The Lord does not always tell us what he will do. “Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself, O God of Israel, the Saviour.” He has told us that “it is the glory of God to conceal a thing,” and our Lord Jesus has said, “It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power.” When he does make known to us what he is about to do, it is not to gratify our curiosity but to direct our conduct. In this case the Lord speaks aloud concerning his intentions. He had grown weary with chastening his people, and therefore he was about to withdraw himself from them and leave them alone, as a man leaves a hopeless work, or as a judge leaves the bench and gives over the prisoner to condemnation. He says, “I will go and return to my place,” as if his waiting time was over, and he would no longer remain in their midst to be provoked by their obstinacy. This withdrawal would occasion the non-acceptance of their prayers and offerings, even as he had said in a former verse, “They shall go with their flocks and with their herds to seek the Lord; but they shall not find him; he hath withdrawn himself from them.” This he tells them, in order that they may be led to implore him to remain with them; or that if he be already gone, they may by hearty confession of their sin, and an immediate seeking of his face, prevail upon him once more to visit them in his grace. If God is about to go then all is going, even hope itself is removing. The divine departure is the worst of calamities, and therefore it is but right that those who are threatened with such a judgment should put their thoughts together and consider their ways, and use the best means to hold him by the skirts ere yet he has departed, or to bring him back again before he has effectually closed the door between him and them. There should be an eager desire to bring the King back that once more the heart may sun itself in the light of his favour. Dear friends, I shall speak this morning with the most anxious desire to be practical; longing and praying in my heart that wherever sin has begun to separate between us and God we may be stirred up to acknowledge our offences and to seek his face, and that where such a separation has long existed there may arise an intense desire of the whole soul to return from its banishment and draw near to God.

We shall this morning use our text first in reference to our national troubles, for the words were originally spoken with regard to the national troubles of Israel and Judah; secondly, we shall use it in reference to our personal trials as believers; and then, thirdly, in its relation to the personal trials of the unconverted. Lessons may here be learned instructive in each of the three cases. May the Holy Ghost speak the truth home to the heart.

And first with regard to our present national troubles. I desire to speak of these things as before God in all sincerity and simplicity. I know it is impossible to touch upon such a subject without being suspected of political bias, but I can truly declare that from all such partiality I desire to be freed, that I may not speak as a partisan, but as the servant of the living God. Calmly and solemnly would I speak words of soberness and truth and justice. It is a burden to my heart to speak a hard word of my own beloved country, and if I seem to do so it is not in wantonness, but because of a pressure upon my conscience which will not let me be silent.

Surely no one will deny that our country is passing through a season of great and grievous adversity. We have been perplexed for many months, and even for years, with perpetual rumours of wars. For a long time no man knew when he went to rest at night but what the journal of the morning would inform him that our nation had plunged into war with one at least of the great powers of Europe. Our policy has been such, whether wise or unwise, that we have been constantly on the verge of conflict. It is wonderful that we have escaped from embroiling ourselves in long and serious war, for many a time the flames of contention have threatened a general conflagration. This disquietude of itself has been a serious injury to the prosperity of our country, for trade and commerce make prosperous voyages upon the waters of peace, but even before those waters are disturbed by the storms of actual war, while only the threat of battle ruffles the surface, they make small headway or are driven back. Commerce is timid as a dove, and is fluttered by every turmoil or whisper of coming trouble. In a thousand ways political agitations stab at the heart of national prosperity.

In addition to this we have been actually engaged in two wars at the least, wars certainly expensive and questionably expedient. In these two conflicts it was impossible for us to gain honour, since they were cases of the mighty assailing the feeble. Laurels gained from nations so far inferior to us would have been unworthy of a place upon the brow of a brave nation. We have invaded one country and then another with no better justification than the law of superior force, or the suspicion of future danger. Disaster has followed upon the heels of disaster, and at the end of it all there are great expenses to be met. Our acts of aggression must be paid for not only with the blood of our soldiers, but with the sinews and sweat of our working men. Results of industry which ought to have gone to support the arts and promote the comfort and advancement of the race have been thrown away in wasteful feats of arms. The food which should have fed our children has been flung into the mouth of the lion, to be devoured by war, that its evil spirit may become yet more ravenous. Wilful waste, it is to be feared, will be followed by woeful want unless God in his mercy shall interpose. We have meddled in many things, and have threatened at least three of the great quarters of the globe either with our fleets or our armies. Nothing could content us till we had drawn the sword against a brave though savage people, whose fighting may well be fierce, since it is for their invaded fatherland. These wars, whatever their issue, are serious calamities.

On the back of all this war has come depression in trade. Everywhere there is complaining, and not without cause. Even the most cheerful of men, who have always been rejoicing when others have lamented, begin at last to look very serious, and to own that the times are threatening. Striving tradesmen wonder whether they shall be able to “provide things honest in the sight of all men.” Many a man now plans and labours, but his care and toil earn but a scant reward. All trade is dull, and some trade is dead. Some branches of industry are already paralysed, and there is but little prospect of their ever being revived. The land mourns, and men’s hearts sink for fear. Matters are not so bad as despondency would paint them, but even hope is unable to draw a cheerful picture. It is a day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick darkness.

As if all this were not enough, the heavens refuse to assist the processes of husbandry. For the most part the crop of hay, so needful for the cattle, may be regarded as lost, and now the great peril is upon the corn. In some places the corn is too backward to have suffered much at present, but in others the prospects are dark indeed. It seems certain that a continuance of this constant rain must deprive us of the most precious fruits of the earth. Farmers are beginning to cry out bitterly, and there is a demand that prayer should be offered in all the churches for fair weather. May God be pleased to look upon our land and deliver us in this hour of trouble, for indeed it is a time of loss and ruin to thousands! If ever prayer was needed it is surely at this hour. You who live in London do not know much about what is happening to the crops, and what the eye does not see the heart does not rue, but to our agricultural friends this ill weather is a matter of most serious consideration, and they are suffering very heavily. No one can doubt that the badness of trade affects the farmer in common with the rest of the community, and now comes the further burden of sunless skies, winter in summer, and the clouds returning after the rain.

In the first matter, that of a warlike policy, we may by God’s goodness make a change. It may be possible that ere long better principles will come to the front, and we may no longer be made to appear as a nation of snarlers and growlers, breathing defiance, and delighting in war. God grant it speedily! But as to the two other matters, what can we do? We are powerless to quicken trade, we are certainly powerless to stay the bottles of heaven. If God wills it, the clouds will gather from day to day, and drench our fields with their pitiless downpour. Deluge will follow deluge till the corn shall rot in the fields if God so determines. Prayer is therefore desired, and well it may be. But by some prayer is desired as if it were quite certain that if certain pious words are repeated the rain must necessarily cease and the weather become favourable. I am not quite so sure. Let prayer be offered by all means, but only under certain conditions can it prove effectual. I know of many reasons why it may be possible that such prayers as are likely to be offered will not be heard, but instead thereof the threatened judgment of God may nevertheless come upon us. I desire, this morning, to speak about prayer in the way of warning, lest men should place an unwise confidence in the formality of reading a form of prayer in churches, or uttering extempore formalities in meeting-houses. Few men believe more thoroughly in the power of real prayer than I do, and I have tested and proved it in many remarkable ways so fully that I can have no doubts as to its efficacy, but heartily magnify the name of our prayer-hearing God. But still we must use our understandings, lest we be deceived, and come to expect what we shall not receive. I would call to your recollection the fact that, under certain circumstances, God does not answer prayer. Our text says, “I will go and return to my place, till they acknowledge their offence”; and, if this be the case, there will be no answering of prayer till repentance is manifested. Sometimes the heavens are brass, even to good men, and their cries reverberate and come back into their own ears, not without a blessing to themselves, but still without any visible reply as to the people for whom their intercessions were offered. It is not every sort of prayer that God will hear, for he saith by his servant Isaiah, “When ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood.” (Is. 1:15.) Intercession is sometimes useless, for Jeremiah tells us, “Then said the Lord unto me, Though Moses and Samuel stood before me, yet my mind could not be toward this people.” (Jer. 15:1.) Ezekiel also warns us that the presence of the godly may not at all times avert judgment, for thus saith the Lord, “Son of man, when the land sinneth against me by trespassing grievously, then will I stretch out mine hand upon it, and will break the staff of the bread thereof, and will send famine upon it, and will cut off man and beast from it: though these three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job, were in it, they should deliver but their own souls by their righteousness, saith the Lord God.” (Ezek. 14:13, 14.) David, doubtless, prayed earnestly that he might escape from the chastisement of his sin when he numbered the people, but it could not be removed. He had a choice of three evils, but one of the three was inevitable. When God has come to this pass with a people, that he must and will smite them, prayer is their only resource, and even that may fail to avert the threatened stroke. A child may have so transgressed that his father may feel bound to punish him, and then he will not spare the rod because of his crying. I pray God that the rain may cease, but if it should be continued it will not be because the Lord cannot help us, or has ceased to answer prayer. Here is the secret of it all, and with trembling do I quote the words: “Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear: but your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear. For your hands are defiled with blood.” (Is. 59:1-3.)

Remember, too, that not only may God withdraw himself in anger, but it may be his determination to punish a people out of a far-seeing design for their good. Perhaps, as a nation, we have had too much prosperity. Ease and plenty have begotten pride and luxury, and these may have weakened the spirit of the nation. It may have become absolutely necessary for this favoured nation, if it is to be still the stronghold of liberty and the fortress of gospel truth, that it should again endure those northern blasts of adversity which have aforetime strengthened it at heart. It will not be the first time that our land has suffered for her good. Bad harvests and decaying trade are not new things to Englishmen. There linger among us now a few venerable men and women who can tell us of the straits of the old war time, of how there was great scantiness of bread, and heaviness of taxation, and frequent alarms from abroad and riots at home. What a long and dreary time it was when the sound of cannon might almost be heard across the straits, and watchfires were ready on every cliff and height! Yet good came of the affliction, and since that gloomy time the country has made rapid progress in many respects, and especially in freedom, civil and religious. It may be so again. I would not wish ill to my country, but if our fellow men will not remember God except in adversity, adversity itself might be desired by the kindest heart. If true religion is to be cast into the dust by boastful infidelity, if a bastard popery is to be allowed to occupy our national churches, if drunkenness is to remain shameless and almost universal, if the language of the common people is to become filthy and obscene, if the exaltation of one favoured sect above its fellow Christians-a crying deed of injustice-is perpetually to endure, if our nation is to shed the blood of weaker nations, and send its armies into lands which are none of ours, then it will not be a strange thing if the Lord resolves to punish, and it will be hard for the righteous man to find an argument with which to plead for pity. When the offence is repented of the punishment will be withdrawn, but can we expect pardon on other terms? Can we even ask for it? The verdict of the sternly just would rather be, “Let the rod fall” than “Let it be withdrawn;” if only by severe means the nation can be made to put away its evil deeds. In our text God declares that he will not give audience to his erring people, but will retire into his secret place until they acknowledge the offence and seek his face. It may be so with our nation at this time, and if it be we need to be exhorted to something more than public prayer; there is need of a work more thorough and more difficult than the public use of a devotional form.

But, saith one, “We hope we shall have national prayer.” I hope so, too, but will there be a national confession of sin? If not-how can mere prayer avail? Will there be a general desire to do that which is just and right between man and man? Will that be a declaration that England’s policy is never to trample on the weak or pick a quarrel for her own aggrandizement? Will there be a loathing of the principle that British interests are to be our guiding star instead of justice and right? Personal interests are no excuse for doing wrong; if they were so we should have to exonerate the worst of thieves, for they will not invade a house until their personal interests invite them. Perhaps the midnight robber may yet learn to plead that he only committed a burglary for fear another thief should take the spoil, and make worse use of it than he. Does the footpad stop a passenger on the road for any other than his own interests? When our own interests are our policy, nobility is dead and true honour is departed; but I fear that only a minority are of this mind. Will the nation repent of any one of its sins? Will it settle itself down like the people of Jerusalem during the great rain of Ezra’s time and do that which is right in the sight of God? Remember what they said in that day: “The people are many, and it is a time of much rain, and we are not able to stand without, neither is this a work of one day or two: for we are many that have transgressed in this thing.” If stern reformation went with supplication, I am persuaded that prayer would prevail; but while sin is gloried in my hopes find little ground to rest upon.

But will there be general prayer? No, there will not. I speak sadly, but I speak no more than the truth. There are numbers among us who say that prayer is of no use with regard to the winds and the clouds, for certain laws govern the weather, and prayer cannot affect those laws. These men, therefore, will not pray, and there are multitudes of others of like spirit whose atheism is practical though it is unavowed. How, then, can prayer be general when such vast numbers utterly disregard it? Turn your eyes to Nineveh. When Jonah threatened that great city, and upon its repentance the judgment was withdrawn, of what character was its humiliation? From the king on the throne even to the beasts in the field all were clothed with sackcloth, and fasted, and cried out to God, and therefore we marvel not that he heard them. Will there be any such crying to God among us? I trow not. A defiant silence will seal millions of lips. But what of those who are supposed to pray; are all these men of the Elias stamp, whose fervent prayer could open or shut the windows of heaven? We dare not put much confidence in the prayers which will be offered. Will they be offered in faith by a tenth of those who will repeat them. I wish I could hope so. By many the public prayer will be regarded as absolutely ridiculous, and by many more as a mere matter of form, which it is proper to use, but in which no confidence whatever can be placed. Do not therefore say, if the rain should continue by the month together, that prayer was ordered by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and that God did not hear it, and therefore all prayer is idle. No, but see what kind of prayer it will be, and how little connected it will be with confession, and how little it will be general, and how little it will be sincere, and then you will not wonder if no comfortable answer comes of it. It may be that my text will be the sole answer of the Lord-“I will go and return to my place, till they acknowledge their offence, and seek my face: in their affliction they will seek me early.”

What then is to be done? This much is to be done. All hope for a country lies in the true believers who dwell therein. Remember Sodom, and how it would have been spared had there been ten righteous men found therein, and know that ye also are the salt of the earth, by whom it is to be conserved. Loathe the spirit of those who say that, because we are citizens of heaven we are to have nothing to do with the concerns of men below. A more un-Christianlike sentiment, a more selfish sentiment, never degraded spiritual minds. Wherever the Jews dwelt in the days of their scattering they were commanded to care for the good of the people among whom they dwelt. Here are the words of the Lord by Jeremiah: “Seek the peace of the city whither I have caused you to be carried away captives, and pray unto the Lord for it: for in the peace thereof shall ye have peace.” Surely Christians are not to be less generous than Jews. Happily we are not under a despot; in England we are our own governors, and the man who in this land does nothing to secure the good government of the country is, by his silence, on the side of wrong. You cannot shirk your responsibility anyhow except by clearing out of the land altogether, and then if it suffers by your absence you will still be found guilty. You are part and parcel of the nation, for you share in its protection and privileges, and it is yours as Christian men to feel that you are bound in return to do all you can in the midst of it to promote truth and righteousness. What then? What course should we now pursue? Let us make confession of sin on behalf of the people as Moses and Jeremiah and Daniel did aforetime. You may not consider that to be sin which I judge to be so, but, my brother, you see sin enough all around you of one sort or another. Take it to yourself, and as the high priest went in to the holy place to plead for the people, so act you as a priest before God, in your quiet personal devotions. Confess the sin of this nation before God. If it will not repent, repent for it. Stand as a sort of consecrated sponsor before God, and let the sin lie on your heart till you fall on your face before the Most High. Remember, the saints are intercessors with God for the people. Ye are God’s remembrancers, and, as ye are called to make mention of his name, keep not silence day nor night, but in this hour of trouble pour out your hearts before him. Get you up to your Carmels and cry aloud, you that know how to cry unto God, that he may send deliverance, and when you have prayed for this people and asked the Lord to forgive its sin, and also to take away the chastising rod, then all of you promote by your daily lives, your precepts, and your actions, “whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report.” Be on the side of temperance and sobriety: be on the side of peace and of justice; be on the side of everything that is according to the mind of God, and according to the law of love. Love God and your fellow men, and seek to promote all interests which look that way. I believe that a country can never have a larger blessing, a truer safeguard for the present, or a firmer security for its future greatness, than a band of praying men and women who make mention of it before the throne of God. English history from the first day till now is as full of instruction as the history of Israel from Egypt even to Babylon. Did you ever read Cowper’s wonderful description of the care which God has taken of this little island, how he has favoured and protected it? When all the nations were in arms against it they could not touch its shore, for God was there: and on the other hand the Lord has laid us low, and made us suffer, when we have boasted of our fleets and armies. Our nation has been as much under the peculiar and especial providence of God as were the descendants of Jacob themselves, and therefore God deals with us as he does not deal with other nations. The smothering of black men with smoke in the caves to which they had fled, the burning down of human habitations, and the hunting of men as if they were wild beasts, is a greater iniquity with us than it would have been in savages, or even in Papists or Mahomedans. Our religion is higher, nobler, purer than theirs; and we ought to be ashamed to act as they do. Bloodshed by some nations God winketh at, for they know but little better, but a country which has in it the very sun of the gospel shining in the fulness of its strength should set to the world an example which it can follow, and, if it does not, it may expect to have trouble after trouble and blow after blow from the hand of God.

Thus have I spoken what was burdening my heart; make what you will of it, it is the warning of an honest lover of his country, who fears the Lord and fears none besides. Judge me to have spoken with political bias or not, and censure me as you choose, I could say no less, or I would gladly have held my peace. Before God I am clear in this thing of any attempt but an upright one. May God grant that my feeble protest may touch the hearts of those who ought to feel its truth. I am not. very sanguine that it will be so, for we have fallen upon evil times, and the heart of the people has waxen gross.

And now, secondly, let us view the text in reference to our personal trials as believers. Brethren and sisters, let us now commune with one another concerning the ways of God with our own souls. The Lord will not cast off his people; notwithstanding their faults they are his own children, and they shall be his children for ever. But when his children sin, God is sure to chasten them for it. “You only have I known of all the people, therefore will I punish you for your iniquities.” He leaves his enemies alone for awhile, but he smites his sons. His foes shall go unpunished till the end shall be; but as for his beloved, he is exceedingly jealous over them, and he will make them smart when they sin. Has the Lord been chastening any of us of late? Has the moth been in our estates, or has the lion been tearing our peace? Let us turn at his rebuke; let us say unto the Lord, “Show me wherefore thou contendest with me. Lord, if thou art smiting me, I would not be as the horse or as the mule which have no understanding, but I would turn unto thee at once, before thou smitest me again.” It is good to repent at once, and seek our heavenly Father’s face betimes.

For, note next, when chastisements are of no avail withdrawment follows. The Lord has promised that he will not forsake his people, nor will he utterly do so, but there are withdrawments which are not included in that promise. God may so hide himself from his servants that they may have no conscious fellowship with him, no enjoyment of his word, no power in prayer; in fact, they may pray and he may shut out their prayer. Their life may be sapless and spiritless; joy and peace may flee. They may possibly try at such times to make up for their loss by enjoying the world. They may run after carnal pleasures and vain amusements, but they cannot fill their minds therewith; they are spoiled for such empty vanities; grace has made them incapable of finding soul food in the corn and wine of earth: they must have their God or die. Let me tell you most solemnly that it is a very sad thing when God has withdrawn from a believing spirit, and the more holy a man has been the more sadly will he lament that he is now under a cloud, and the more earnestly will he cry, “Oh that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his seat.”

When these withdrawments of God are painfully felt, then we should begin most eagerly to search out the sin which has caused them; for sin is at the bottom of it all. If, believer, there be a quarrel between thy Beloved and thyself, is there not a cause? Our Lord Jesus is no fitful lover, who in a pet will leave the soul which is espoused to him merely to indulge a whim. Far otherwise; he never trifles with us, but treats our love as a sacred thing. There is some grave cause whenever the Beloved frowns. Now for a thorough search, a sweeping of the house, and a cleansing out of all things that offend. Throughout the heart, the understanding, and the lips let a search warrant be issued, and if any sin be detected-and it will not be long before it will be-let it be brought to light and judged. Set it in the light of God’s countenance and there confess it and lament it. Make no apologies, and excuses, and explanations, but honestly confess the wrong and leave it. Hast thou restrained prayer? Confess it. Hast thou neglected the reading of the Word? Confess it. Hast thou been neglectful of thy children and thy family as to training them in the nurture of the Lord? Confess it. Has there been laxity in thy contact with the world? Hast thou given way to flippancy and levity? Hast thou been proud? Hast thou been slothful? Hast thou indulged too much in the pleasures of the table? Has thy heart set itself upon thy wealth? Then bring the idols out and let thy heart see the wounds which they have given thee, and what it is that thou hast doted on, and what these things are which have come in between thee and thy God. Surely thou wilt be ashamed of them when thou dost consider that their love is the price for which thou hast parted with thy Saviour’s presence. Is this a goodly price that thy Lord was prized at by thee? Judas’s pieces of silver were not more contemptible than these poor paltry bribes. Lament the treachery of thy heart and hear him ask thee, “Lovest thou me?” nor hesitate to answer, “Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee.”

But, beloved, when you have obtained a sense of the sin or sins which separate you from God, and have made a full confession, then take care that you seek the Lord with hopefulness and confidence, for, notwithstanding all this, you are his child still, and must not give way to a paralyzing despair. You are married unto Christ, and there is no divorce with him, “for the Lord the God of Israel saith he hateth putting away.” He will not cast off for ever nor put away his erring spouse. Come, therefore, unto him with humble confidence. He hath torn and he will heal, he hath smitten and he will bind us up. Seek his face, for his face is towards you. The very face of God is Jesus Christ. The Son of God is he in whom we see the Father. Even as you see a man in his countenance, so God is seen in Christ. Seek you God in Christ Jesus, for thereby good shall come unto you. Do not say, “It is of no use, I have backslidden, and revolted again and again, and he will now refuse me finally.” No, he will not reject you. You are not out of reach of his love; he will turn again and have compassion on you, for he delights in mercy. If he withdraws, it is only that you may sigh after him and seek after him. A nurse, when her little child will go away from her and fall into danger, will sometimes hide herself away from it, to teach it better. She sees the child still, though the little one cannot see her. She is near to help, but the child cannot find her, and so it begins to cry for her, and does not rest till she is found. The child will not so soon wander again. Even so may the Lord hide his face to make us cry after him, but he is very near us all the while, and he will yet be found of us. “Behold,” saith he, “I stand at the door and knock; if any man open to me I will enter in.” It is not much, is it, to open the door? That is all he asks. Open and let him in, for he adds, “and I will sup with him.” “Ah, Lord,” say you, “we have no provision fit for thee.” But know assuredly he brings his supper with him, and we sup with him and he with us. He only wants you to lend the house, by opening your heart, for he has brought the viands, yea, he is himself our bread from heaven. Now, to whom is this spoken? To sinners? No, no, it is spoken to the church of Laodicea, which was “neither cold nor hot.” Her Lord was ready to spue her out of his mouth, and yet in mercy he cries, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” O backslider, Jesus waits to be gracious to you. He longs to restore you. Only acknowledge your transgression and return to him. Be of good cheer as to acceptance, for he casts out none who come to him. End these backslidings, and there need be no more misery. God help you to rise this very day into a closer walk with him, and may he keep you by his side for ever.

To be out of fellowship with God is for the heart to be in a state of spiritual disease. Things must be wrong within when we are wrong with God. When we do not walk in the light, as God is in the light, there is some evil in the eye of the soul. Dread the evil, and cry for healing. To be away from God is to be in a state of spiritual weakness. Samson may shake himself as at other times, but he can do no deeds of strength when the Lord has departed from him. God is our strength, and God’s hiding makes us weak as water. If the Lord should leave us we cannot plead with him and prevail, nor can we plead with men and win them for Christ. Our strength has departed, both towards God and towards man, when our fellowship with God is suspended. Our heart cannot leap like a young roe upon the mountains, but our spirit limps as one whose bones are broken. We cannot even gaze through the gates of pearl to see the glory which the Spirit reveals, for our eye is dim, so that we cannot see afar off when Jesus is away. If you are in this condition you are in an evil case; carking care invades you, anxieties annoy you, your temper gets the mastery, Satan accuses, and conscience trembles; your spirit is like that of a carnal man, and you are apt to speak unadvisedly with your lips, and to be readily moved by every external influence. What is worse, when a man is out of fellowship with God he is in danger of presumptuous sins. David on the terraces of his palace had not been walking with God, or else the sight of Bathsheba below had not caused him so grievous a fall. Lose communion with Christ, and you are on the verge of a folly which will stain your character and terribly mar your life. It is only when we are near to God that we are safe; therefore let a sense of danger drive us to him at once. I speak from a widespread observation as well as from an inward experience; there is but a step between distance from God and the nearness of temptation and sin. If God thinks much of you he will have you near him, or else he will make you miserable. He will not permit you to rejoice except in himself. If your love is not worth his having you may love whom you like, but when he loves you much he will be very jealous over you, and if he finds you are content to be without his company, he will make you suffer for such wantonness and ingratitude. That by-path meadow business, that going down the green lane to get off the flints of the right road, that getting away from Christ to have a taste of the world’s sweet delusions, that coming down from our high places as if we had grown weary of being happy, and were discontented with an angelic life-all that means a succession of afflictions and regrets which can only at the very best end in our getting to Christ again with broken bones. Such wanderings are painful, end how they may. David’s career before his sin, how different it was from his life afterwards. You can always tell which psalms he wrote before his transgression, they are so jubilant, so full of holy rejoicing; but afterwards when he sings, it is in a bass voice; he sweeps his harp, but the strings are disordered; he loves his God, but it is the solemn, tearful love of repentance rather than the bright sparkling love of delight in God. Do not err, my beloved brethren, for error brings sorrow. “Little children, keep yourselves from idols.” If you have gone aside to evil, then seek early the face of God, and he will be found of you in Christ Jesus.

And now my time is almost spent, indeed I have but a few minutes to use on the third head, and I would therefore speak few words, but speak them very earnestly indeed. We shall now think of the personal trials of the sinner. Oh, you that are unconverted, if God means to save you, he will before long begin by chastening you in body or in mind. You will have trouble. You are a wandering sheep, and God will send his black dog after you to fetch you to the fold. If one trouble does not do it, you will have another, and another, and another. Perhaps I speak to some who, as the result of providential chastenings, and the work of conscience on their spirit have already been aroused; let them take heed of trifling with their awakenings. After that earnest sermon, or after reading that stirring book, you did begin to pray, but your desires and feelings have now subsided. I would have you greatly grieve over this. Let me warn you that God may withdraw himself from you altogether. Some have been sitting in this Tabernacle now for years from whom I fear God has withdrawn himself; for you used to feel much moved by the gospel, but it is not so now. You would not come when you were called and admonished, but you revolted more and more, and now mercy is growing weary of you. You were smitten again and again, but you still rebelled, and now God says, “Let him alone.” This is a more terrible calamity than you suspect; unless it be averted it will be your ruin.

I may be speaking to some strangers here who at one time had a disturbed conscience, but they have grown very callous of late. You are in danger of eternal wrath, but you are wonderfully easy. You can even make jokes about religion, cannot you? Poor souls! I fear the Lord has given you over for a time at least; I hope not for ever. Do you ask me what you shall do? I reply that, according to our text, it is high time for you to seek the Lord. When you were smitten before you tried self-righteousness, church-going, chapel-going, sacraments, and so forth. As the prophet says, you went to king Jareb, but he could not heal you of your wounds. You must now return to your God, or you will never be right. It is vain to look to priests, or sacraments, or religiousnesses: all these things put together are nothing; you must have personal dealings with your God, and you must confess your sin to him, or you will be eternally undone. Go and do it this morning. Tell him all that you know about your sin, and ask him to have mercy upon you for Jesus’ sake. Seek to know him as he manifests himself in Jesus. Be willing to believe whatever he pleases to reveal. Be anxious to be reconciled to him. Long to be at peace with the great God who made the heavens and the earth. Why should there be a quarrel between your Creator and your soul? The way of reconciliation is by the blood of his Son Jesus Christ. You must, therefore, trust Jesus, and you shall find the peace of God. Oh may his Spirit help you to do this now. Seek him, and seek him intensely, resolving that you will never cease to seek till you find God full of mercy and love to you. Come, I pray you, and turn unto the Lord now, and may the Holy Spirit aid you in so doing. He hath torn and he will heal you. He hath smitten and he will bind you up. After two days will he revive you, in the third day he will raise you up, and you shall live in his sight.

God himself must heal you, or you will never be healed. He who has broken your heart must give you comfort or you will never have any. Hasten to your chamber at once, and then upon your knees cry out unto God with the prayer of faith. Be not content with your own sense of sin. Do not say, “I am getting on, for I have felt my guilt.” No, your sense of sin may be but the first drop of a shower of eternal remorse. Get away to God in Christ, and rest not till you are there. Oh, if I had the power to put this into fitting and forcible words, I would implore every man and woman that I look upon not to live without God. He made you, and you cannot be happy without him. While he is angry with you, you cannot be at peace. He bids you come to him. The smitings of his providence are meant to separate you from the love of sin, and drive you to your God. In Jesus Christ the great Father stretches out his arms to you and says, “Come now, and let us reason together: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” Believe in Jesus and live. “Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near: let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.” God bless you, my beloved friends, for his name’s sake. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Hosea 5.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book.”-605, 620, 614.

OUR MOTTO

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-day Morning, July 20th, 1879, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“With good will doing service, as to the Lord, and not to men.”-Ephesians 6:7.

This sentence was expressly addressed, in the first place, to “servants,” which term includes, and first of all intends, those who unhappily were slaves. There were many slaves in the Roman Empire, and the form of bondage which then existed was of the bitterest kind. I can imagine a slave becoming a Christian and so finding peace as to his former guilt, and obtaining renewal of heart; and then, although rejoicing in the Lord, I can well conceive that he would often be downcast in view of his sad condition as a bondsman. I see him sitting down and moaning to himself, “l am a bondsman under a tyrant master. I have already endured many cruelties, and may expect many more. I would be free, but there is no hope of escape, since there is no place to which I can flee, for Cæsar’s arm is long, and would reach me at the very ends of the earth. I cannot purchase my liberty, nor earn it by long years of faithful servitude; neither can my fellow-bondsmen effect our deliverance by rebellion, for this has been tried and has ended in terrible bloodshed. I am hopelessly a slave. What shall I do? How shall I sustain my fate? My life is well-nigh intolerable: would to God it were at an end.” I can imagine the poor bondsman going to his cramped up bed under the stair-for in any hole or corner the Roman slave might find such little rest as was allowed him-and there he would almost wish to sleep himself into another world. Being a Christian, as I have supposed, he pours out his heart before God in prayer, and in answer to his cry the Lord Jesus sets before him the rich consolation which he has provided for all that mourn,-consolation strong enough to enable him to endure to the end, and glorify the name of Jesus even under such hard conditions. While yet troubled in mind this freeman of the Lord, who is yet in bonds to man, is met by the Saviour himself. He appears to him-I will not say in such form as could be perceived by the eyes, but in vision clear enough to be exceedingly influential over his spirit. Jesus stands before him. The five wounds adorning him like precious rubies are infallible tokens; the face lit up with an unearthly splendour is still marked with the old lines of sorrow, and the head bears the thorn-crown still about its brow. The poor slave casts himself at his Redeemer’s feet with astonishment, with awe, and with intense delight; and then I think I hear those dear lips, which are as lilies dropping sweet-smelling myrrh, saying to his poor servant, “Fulfil thy service bravely. Do it unto me. Forget thy tyrant master and remember only me. Bear on, work on, suffer on, and do all as unto me, and not unto men.” Then I think I see the broken-hearted captive rising up refreshed with inward strength, and I hear him say, “I will even bear the yoke until my Lord shall call me away. Unless his providence shall open for me a door of liberty I will patiently abide where I am and suffer all his will; hopefully and joyfully serving because he bids me do it for his sake.” A vision which would so greatly comfort the poor Roman slave in his extremity may well stand before each one of us. Let us each hear our Saviour say, “Live unto me, and do all for my sake.” Our service is so much more pleasant and easy than that of slaves, let us perform it “with good will doing service, as unto the Lord, and not to men.” Our princely motto is “I serve:” be this sentence emblazoned on our banner, and used as the battle-cry of life’s campaign.

Notice well that the Holy Spirit does not bid us leave our stations in order to serve the Lord. He does not bid us forego the domestic relations which make us husbands or wives, parents or children, masters or servants; he does not suggest to us to put on a peculiar garb, and seek the seclusion of a hermitage, or the retirement of monastic or conventual life. Nothing of the kind is hinted at, but he bids the servant continue in his or her service-“with good will doing service.” Our great Captain would not have you hope to win the victory by leaving your post. He would have you abide in your trade, calling, or profession, and all the while serve the Lord in it, doing the will of God from the heart in common things. This is the practical beauty of our holy faith, that when it casts the devil out of a man it sends him home to bless his friends by telling them how great things the Lord has done for him. Grace does not transplant the tree, but bids it overshadow the old house at home as before, and bring forth good fruit where it is. Grace does not make us unearthly, though it makes us unworldly. True religion distinguishes us from others, even as our Lord Jesus was separate from sinners, but it does not shut us up or hedge us round about as if we were too good or too tender for the rough usage of everyday life. It does not put us in the salt box and shut the lid down, but it casts us in among our fellow-men for their good. Grace makes us the servants of God while still we are the servants of men: it enables us to do the business of heaven while we are attending to the business of earth: it sanctifies the common duties of life by showing us how to perform them in the light of heaven. The love of Christ makes the lowliest acts sublime. As the sunlight brightens a landscape and sheds beauty over the commonest scene, so does the presence of the Lord Jesus. The spirit of consecration renders the offices of domestic servitude as sublime as the worship which is presented upon the sea of glass before the eternal shrone, by spirits to whom the courts of heaven are their familiar home.

I suggest my text to all believers as the motto of their lives. Whether we are servants or masters, whether we are poor or rich, let us take this as our watchword, “As to the Lord, and not to men.” Henceforth may this be the engraving of our seal and the motto of our coat of arms; the constant rule of our life, and the sum of our motive. In advocating this gracious aim of our being, let me say that if we are enabled to adopt this motto it will, first of all, influence our work itself; and, secondly, it will elevate our spirit concerning that work. Yet let me add, thirdly, that if the Lord shall really be the all in all of our lives, it is after all only what he has a right to expect, and what we are under a thousand obligations to give to him.

Our subject opens with this reflection, that if henceforth whether we live we live unto the Lord, or whether we die we die unto the Lord, this consecration will greatly influence our entire work. Do you say, my brother, that henceforth your whole life shall be a service of the Lord? Then it will follow, first, that you will have to live with a single eye to his glory. See how in verse 5 we are told, “Servants, be obedient to them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ.” If we do indeed live “as to the Lord,” we must needs live wholly to the Lord. The Lord Jesus is a most engrossing Master. He has said, “No man can serve two masters,” and we shall find it so. He will have everything or nothing. If indeed he be our Lord he must be sole sovereign, for he will not brook a rival. It comes to pass then, O Christian, that you are bound to live for Jesus and for him alone. You must have no co-ordinate or even secondary object or divided aim: if you do divide your heart your life will be a failure. As no dog can follow two hares at one time, or he will lose both, certainly no man can follow two contrary objects and hope to secure either of them. No, it behoves a servant of Christ to be a concentrated man: his affections should be bound up into one affection, and that affection should not be set on things on the earth, but on things above; his heart must not be divided, or it will be said of him as of those in Hosea, “Their heart is divided; now shall they be found wanting.” The chamber of the heart is far too narrow to accommodate the King of kings and the world, or the flesh, or the devil, at the same time. We have no wish, desire, ambition, or exertion to spare for a rival lord, the service of Jesus demands and deserves all. Such is the eminence of this object, that all a man hath or can have of reason or strength must be spent this way if he is to win. Nor is this too much for our great Lord to expect from those for whom he has done so much. To whom should I give a part of myself, my Master? Thou hast redeemed me wholly, and I am altogether thine, take thou full possession of me! Who else can be worthy of my heart? Who else can have a right to set foot within the province whereof thou art the King? Nay, rule alone, thou blessed and only Potentate! As thou alone hast redeemed me, treading the winepress of wrath alone for me, so shalt thou be sole monarch of my soul! Thou art all my salvation and all my desire, and therefore thou shalt have all my homage and service. With such a Lord to be served the current of our life must run in one sole channel, that he may have it all and none may run to waste.

Next, to do service to the Lord we must live with holy carefulness, for what saith the context? We are to serve “with fear and trembling.” In the service of God we should use great care to accomplish our very best, and we should feel a deep anxiety to please him in all things. There is a trade called paper-staining, in which a man flings colours upon the paper to make common wall decorations, and by rapid processes acres of paper can be speedily finished. Suppose that the paper-stainer should laugh at an eminent artist because he had covered such a little space, having been stippling and shading a little tiny piece of his picture by the hour together, such ridicule would itself be ridiculous. Now the world’s way of religion is the paper-stainer’s way, the daubing way; there is plenty of it, and it is quickly done; but God’s way, the narrow way, is a careful matter; there is but little of it, and it costs thought, effort, watchfulness, and care. Yet see how precious is the work of art when it is done, and how long it lasts, and you will not wonder that a man spends his time upon it: even so true godliness is acceptable with God, and it endures for ever, and therefore it well repays the earnest effort of the man of God. The miniature painter has to be very careful of every touch and tint, for a very little may spoil his work; let our life be miniature painting; “with fear and trembling” let it be wrought out. We are serving the thrice Holy God, who will be had in reverence of them that come near to him, let us mind what we do. Our blessed Master never made a faulty stroke when he was serving his Father; he never lived a careless hour, nor let drop an idle word. Oh, it was a careful life he lived: even the night watches were not without the deep anxieties which poured themselves forth in prayer unto God; and if you and I think that the first thing which comes to hand will do to serve our God with, we make a great mistake, and grossly insult his name. We must have a very low idea of his infinite majesty if we think that we can honour him by doing his service half-heartedly, or in a slovenly style. No, if you will indeed live “as to the Lord, and not unto man,” you must watch each motion of your heart and life, or you will fail in your design.

Living as to the Lord means living with a concentrated spirit, and living with earnest care that our one service may be the best of which we are capable when at our best estate. Alas, how poor is that best when we reach it! Truly, when we have done all we are unprofitable servants, but that all is seldom reached.

Further, if henceforth our desire is to live “as to the Lord, and not unto men,” then what we do must be done with the heart. “In singleness of your heart,” says the context; and again in the sixth verse, “As the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart.” Our work for Jesus must be the outgrowth of the soil of the heart. Our service must not be performed as a matter of routine: there must be vigour, power, freshness, reality, eagerness, and warmth about it, or it will be good for nothing. No fish ever came upon God’s altar because it could not come there alive; the Lord wants none of your dead, heartless worship. You know what is meant by putting heart into all that we do; explain it by your lives. A work which is to be accepted of the Lord must be heart-work throughout; not a few thoughts of Christ occasionally, and a few chill words, and a few chance gifts, and a little done by way of by-play, but as the heart beats so must we serve God: it must be our very life. We are not to treat our religion as though it were a sort of off-hand farm which we were willing to keep going but not to make much of, our chief thoughts being engrossed with the home farm of self and the world, with its gains and pleasures. Our Lord will be aut Cæsar aut nullus, either ruler or nothing. My Master is a jealous husband: he will not tolerate a stray thought of love elsewhere, and he thinks it scorn that they who call themselves his beloved should love others better than himself. Such unchastity of heart can never be permitted, let us not dream of it.

We may not claim to be his if we give him only lip service, and brain service, and hand service; he must have the heart. Oh, our beloved Lord, thou didst not spare thy heart from agony for us, the lance set it abroach with all its costly double flood for our unworthy sakes; therefore thou canst not be content to receive in return lifeless forms and cold pretences. Thou didst live indeed; there was no sham about thy life. In all thou didst thou wast intense. The zeal of thy Father’s house had eaten thee up. Thou wast clad with zeal as with a cloak which covered thee from head to foot. Let us live somewhat after this glorious fashion, for thy servant only truly lives when he lives as his Master. “He that is perfect shall be as his Master.” If we are to live to the Lord, the fountains of our soul must flow with boiling floods, and our life must be like a great Icelandic geyser casting up its columns of water, which seethe and boil as they rise. As great earthquakes shake the very centre, so must there be movements of life within us which stir our soul with vehement longings for Jesus, and with intense yearnings for his glory. All our light and life must turn to love, and that love must be all on flame for Jesus. If we truly live unto Christ it must be so.

What else saith the passage before us? If we say,-henceforth I will do the will of God as to the Lord and not unto men, then we must do it under subjection: for note well the words, “doing the will of God.” Some people’s religion is only another way of doing their own will. They pick and choose what precepts they shall keep and what they shall neglect, what doctrines they shall hold and what they shall refuse: their spirit is not bowed into sacred servitude, but takes licence to act according to its own pleasure. The freedom of a Christian lies in what I will venture to call an absolute slavery to Christ; and we never become truly free till every thought is brought into subjection to the will of the Most High. Now if henceforth I live to God, I have no longer any right to say, “I will do this or that,” but I must inquire, “My Master, what wouldst thou have me to do?” As the eyes of the maidens are to their mistress, so are our eyes up to thee, O Lord. Believer, thy Master is to will for thee henceforth. It is idle to say, “I shall live as to the Lord, and not unto men,” when all the while we intend to live in our own fashion. Which is to be master now, self or Christ? On every point this question must be settled: for if on any point we assume the personal mastery the rule of Jesus is wholly refused. To go or to stand still, to suffer or to be in pleasure, to be in honour or to be in disgrace, is no more to be at our option, or if we have a momentary choice it is to be cheerfully resigned before the sovereignty of him whom we have now taken to be our all in all. There is no being a Christian if Christ does not have the throne in the heart and life. It is but the mockery of Christianity to call Jesus Master and Lord while we do not the things which he commands.

Again, we must do all this under a sense of the Divine oversight. Notice in verse 6 it is said of servants, “Not with eyeservice, as menpleasers.” What a mean and beggarly thing it is for a man only to do his work well when he is watched. Such oversight is for boys at school and mere hirelings. You never think of watching noble-spirited men. Here is a young apprentice set to copy a picture: his master stands over him and looks over each line, for the young scapegrace will grow careless and spoil his work, or take to his games if he be not well looked after. Did anybody thus dream of supervising Raphael and Michael Angelo to keep them to their work? No, the master artist requires no eye to urge him on. Popes and emperors came to visit the great painters in their studios, but did they paint the better because these grandees gazed upon them? Certainly not; perhaps they did all the worse in the excitement or the worry of the visit. They had regard to something better than the eye of pompous personages. So the true Christian wants no eye of man to watch him. There may be pastors and preachers who are the better for being looked after by bishops and presbyters; but fancy a bishop overseeing the work of Martin Luther, and trying to quicken his zeal; or imagine a presbyter looking after Calvin to keep him sound in the faith. Oh, no; gracious minds outgrow the governance and stimulus which comes of the oversight of mortal man. God’s own Spirit dwells within us, and we serve the Lord from an inward principle, which is not fed from without. There is about a real Christian a prevailing sense that God sees him, and he does not care who else may set his eye upon him; it is enough for him that God is there. He hath small respect to the eye of man, he neither courts nor dreads it. Let the good deed remain in the dark, for God sees it there, and that is enough; or let it be blazoned in the light of day to be pecked at by the censorious, for it little matters who censures since God approves. This is to be a true servant of Christ: to escape from being an eye-servant to men by becoming in the sublimest sense an eye-servant, working ever beneath the eye of God. If we did but realize this, how well we should live! If now I recollect, as I try to do, that God hears each word I speak to you from this pulpit; that he reads my soul as I address you in his name, how ought I to preach? And if you go to your Sabbath-school class this afternoon, and picture Jesus sitting among the boys and girls, and hearing how you teach them, how earnestly you will teach. At home when you are about to scold a servant; or in the shop, when you think to do a rather sharp thing, if you think your Master stands there and sees it all, what a power it will have over you! Our lives should all be spent under the spell of “Thou God seest me,” and we should each be able to declare, “I have set the Lord always before me.”

One more thought, and it is this. If henceforth we are to serve the Lord, and not men, then we must look to the Lord for our reward, and not to men. “Knowing,” saith the eighth verse, “that whatsoever good thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive of the Lord, whether he be bond or free.” Wage! Is that the motive of a Christian? Yes, in the highest sense, for the greatest of the saints, such as Moses, have “had respect unto the recompense of the reward,” and it were like despising the reward which God promises to his people if we had no respect whatever unto it. Respect unto the reward which cometh of God kills the selfishness which is always expecting a reward from men. We can postpone our reward, and we can be content instead of receiving present praise, to be misunderstood and misrepresented: we can postpone our reward, and we can endure instead thereof to be disappointed in our work, and to labour on without success, or when the reward does come how glorious it will be! An hour with Jesus will make up for a lifetime of persecution! One smile from him will repay us a thousand times over for all disappointments and discouragements.

Thus you see, brethren, that if we do in very deed make this our rule and maxim-“As to the Lord, and not to men”-our work will be shaped and fashioned most wonderfully. May God grant that the influence of this motive may manifestly sway our whole life henceforth, until we close it for this world, and commence it anew where we shall not need to shift our course, but shall continue eternally to live to the Lord alone.

May the Holy Spirit guide us while we reflect, secondly, that should this text become the inspiration of our life it would greatly elevate our spirits. What would it do for us? First, it would lift us above all complaining about the hardness of our lot, or the difficulty of our service. “Alas,” says one, “I am worn out. I cannot keep on at this rate. My position is so terribly trying that I cannot hold on much longer: it strains not only muscle and sinew, but nerve and heart. Nobody could bear my burden long: my husband is cruel, my friend is unkind, my children are ungrateful.” Ah, poor heart, there are many others who wear the weeping-willow as well as thyself. But be of good courage, and look at thy case in another light. If the burden is to be borne for Jesus’ sake, who loved thee and gave himself for thee, by whose precious blood thou art redeemed from the pains of hell, canst thou not bear it? Canst thou not bear it? “That is quite another thing,” say you: “I could not bear it for a sneering master: I could not bear it for a passionate, froward mistress, but I could do anything and I could bear anything for Jesus.” This makes all the difference-

“For him I count as gain each loss,

Disgrace for him, renown;

Well may I glory in his cross,

While he prepares my crown!”

We are satisfied to bear any cross so long as it is his cross. What wonders men can do when they are influenced by enthusiastic love for a leader! Alexander’s troops marched thousands of miles on foot, and they would have been utterly wearied had it not been for their zeal for Alexander. He led them forth conquering and to conquer. Alexander’s presence was the life of their valour, the glory of their strength. If there was a very long day’s march over burning sands, one thing they knew,-that Alexander marched with them; if they were thirsty, they knew that he thirsted too, for when one brought a cup of water to the king, he put it aside, thirsty as he was, and said, “Give it to the sick soldier.” Once it so happened that they were loaded with the spoil which they had taken, and each man had become rich with goodly garments and wedges of gold; then they began to travel very slowly with so much to carry, and the king feared that he should not overtake his foe. Having a large quantity of spoil which fell to his own share, he burned it all before the eyes of his soldiers and bade them do the like that they might pursue the enemy and win even more. “Alexander’s portion lies beyond,” cried he, and seeing the king’s own spoils on fire his warriors were content to give up their gains also and share with their king. He did himself what he commanded others to do: in self-denial and hardship he was a full partaker with his followers. After this fashion our Lord and Master acts towards us. He says, “Renounce pleasure for the good of others. Deny yourself, and take up your cross. Suffer, though you might avoid it; labour, though you might rest, when God’s glory demands suffering or labour of you. Have not I set you an example?” “Who, though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we through his poverty might be rich.” He stripped himself of all things that he might clothe us with his glory. O, brothers and sisters, when we heartily serve such a leader as this, and are fired by his spirit, then murmuring, and complaining, and weariness, and fainting of heart are altogether fled: a divine passion carries us beyond ourselves.

“I can do all things, or can bear

All suffering if my Lord be there.”

Next, this lifts the Christian above the spirit of stinting. I believe great numbers of working men-I am not going to judge them for it-always consider how little they can possibly do to earn their wages, and the question with them is not, “How much can we give for the wage?” that used to be; but, “How little can we give? How little work can we do in the day. without being discharged for idleness?” Many men say, “We must not do all the work to-day, for we shall need something to do to-morrow: our masters will not give us more than they can help, and therefore we will not give them more than we are obliged to.” This is the general spirit on both sides, and as a nation we are going to the dogs because that spirit is among us; and we shall be more and more beaten by foreign competition if this spirit is cultivated. Among Christians such a notion cannot be tolerated in the service of our Lord Jesus. It never does for a minister to say, “If I preach three times a week it is quite as much as anybody will expect of me; therefore I shall do no more.” It will never be right for you to say, “I am a Sabbath-school teacher; if I get into the class to the minute-some of you do not do that-and if I stop just as long as the class lasts, I need not look after the boys and girls through the week; I cannot be bothered with them: I will do just as much as I am bound to do, but no more.” In a certain country town it was reported that the grocer’s wife cut a plum in two, for fear there should be a grain more than weight in the parcel, and the folks called her Mrs. Split-plum. Ah, there are many Split-plums in religion. They do not want to do more for Jesus than may be absolutely necessary. They would like to give good weight, but they would be sorry to be convicted of doing too much. Ah, when we get to feel we are doing service for our Lord Jesus Christ, we adopt a far more liberal scale. Then we do not calculate how much ointment will suffice for his feet, but we give him all that our box contains. Is this your talk, “Here, bring the scales, this ointment cost a great deal of money, we must be economical. Watch every drachm, yea, every scruple and grain, for the nard is costly”? If this be your cool manner of calculation your offering is not worth a fig. Not so spake that daughter of love of whom we read in the gospels, for she brake the box and poured out all the contents upon her Lord. “To what purpose is this waste?” cried Judas. It was Judas who thus spoke, and you know therefore the worth of the observation. Christ’s servants delight to give so much as to be thought wasteful, for they feel that when they have in the judgment of others done extravagantly for Christ, they have but begun to show their hearts’ love for his dear name. Thus the elevating power of the spirit of consecration lifts us up above the wretched parsimony of mere formality.

Again, this raises us up above all boasting of our work. “Is the work good enough?” said one to his servant. The man replied, “Sir, it is good enough for the price: and it is good enough for the man who is going to have it.” Just so, and when we “serve” men we may perhaps rightly judge in that fashion, but when we come to serve Christ, is anything good enough for him? Could our zeal know no respite, could our prayers know no pause, could our efforts know no relaxation, could we give all we have of time, wealth, talent, and opportunity, could we die a martyr’s death a thousand times, would not he, the Best Beloved of our souls, deserve far more? Ah, that he would. Therefore is self-congratulation banished for ever. When you have done all, you will feel that it is not worthy of the matchless merit of Jesus, and you will be humbled at the thought. Thus, while doing all for Jesus stimulates zeal, it fosters humility, a happy blending of useful effects.

The resolve to do all as unto the Lord will elevate you above that craving for recognition which is a disease with many. It is a sad fault in many Christians that they cannot do anything unless all the world is told of it. The hen in the farm-yard has laid an egg, and feels so proud of the achievement that she must cackle about it: everybody must know of that one poor egg till all the country round resounds with the news. It is so with some professors: their work must be published, or they can do no more. “Here have I,” said one, “been teaching in the school for years, and nobody ever thanked me for it; I believe that some of us who do the most are the least noticed, and what a shame it is.” But if you have done your service unto the Lord you should not talk so, or we shall suspect you of having other aims. The servant of Jesus will say, “I do not want human notice. I did it for the Master; he noticed me, and I am content. I tried to please him, and I did please him, and therefore I ask no more, for I have gained my end. I seek no praise of men, for I fear lest the breath of human praise should tarnish the pure silver of my service.”

This would lift you above the discouragement which sometimes comes of human censure. If you seek the praise of men you will in all probability fail in the present, and certainly you will lose it in the future sooner or later. Many men are more ready to censure than to commend; and to hope for their praise is to seek for sugar in a root of wormwood. Man’s way of judging is unjust, and seems fashioned on purpose to blame all of us one way or another. Here is a brother who sings bass, and the critics say, “Oh yes, a very fine bass voice, but he could not sing treble.” Here is another who excels in treble, and they say, “Yes, yes, but we prefer a tenor.” When they find a tenor they blame him because he cannot take the bass. No one can be candidly praised, but all must be savagely censured. What will the great Master say about it? Will he not judge thus-“I have given this man a bass voice, and he sings bass, and that is what I meant him to do: I gave that man a tenor voice, and he sings tenor, and that is what I meant him to do: I gave that man a treble voice, and he sings treble, and so takes the part I meant him to take. All the parts blended together make up sweet music for my ears”? Wisdom is justified of her children, but folly blames them all round. How little we ought to care about the opinions and criticisms of our fellow-men when we recollect that he who made us what we are, and helps us by his grace to act our part, will not judge us after the mode in which men carp or flatter, but will accept us according to the sincerity of our hearts. If we feel, “I was not working for you; I was working for God,” we shall not be much wounded by our neighbours’ remarks. The nightingale charms the ear of night. A fool passes by, and declares that he hates such distracting noises. The nightingale sings on, for it never entered the little minstrel’s head or heart that it was singing for critics: it sings because he who created it gave it this sweet faculty. So may we reply to those who condemn us,-“We live not unto you, O men; we live unto our Lord.” Thus do we escape the discouragements which come of ungenerous misapprehension and jealous censure.

This, too, will elevate you above the disappointments of non-success, ay, even of the saddest kind. If those you seek to bless be not saved, yet you have not altogether failed, for you did not teach or preach having the winning of souls as the absolute ultimatum of your work, you did it with the view of pleasing Jesus, and he is pleased with faithfulness even where it is not accompanied with success. Sincere obedience is his delight even if it lead to no apparent result. If the Lord should set his servant to plough the sea or sow the sand he would accept his service. If we should have to witness for Christ’s name to stocks and stones, and our hearers should be even worse than blocks of marble, and should turn again and rend us, we may still be filled with contentment, for we shall have done our Lord’s will, and what more do we want? To plod on under apparent failure is one of the most acceptable of all works of faith, and he who can do it year after year is assuredly well-pleasing unto God.

This lifts us above disappointment in the prospect of death. We shall have to go away from our work soon, so men tell us, and we are apt to fret about it. The truth is we shall go on with our work for ever if our service is pleasing to the Lord. We shall please him up yonder even better than we do here. And what if our enterprise here should seem to end, as far as man is concerned, we have done it unto the Lord, and our record is on high, and therefore it is not lost. Nothing that is done for Jesus will be destroyed: the flower may fade, but its essence remains; the tree may fall, but its fruit is stored; the cluster may be crushed, but the wine is preserved; the work and its place may pass away, but the glory which it brought to Jesus shines as the stars for ever and ever.

Ay, and this lifts us above the deadening influence of age and the infirmities which come with multiplied years. What little we can do we do it all the more thoroughly for Jesus as our experience ripens. If we must contract the sphere, we condense and intensify the motive. If we are living unto Christ, we love him even when our heart grows cold to other things. When the eye grows dim earthwards, it brightens towards heaven; when the ear can hardly hear the voice of singing men and singing women, it knows the music of Jesus’ name; and when the hand can do little in human business, it begins feeling for the strings of its celestial harp that it may make melody for the Well-beloved. I know of nothing which can possibly elevate our spirit as workers for Christ like the sense of doing all unto the Lord and not unto men. May the Spirit of God help us to rise into this perfect consecration.

I have not time to say more than just this word. A due sense of serving the Lord would ennoble all our service beyond conception. Think of working for him,-for him, the best of masters, before whom angels count it glory to bow. Work done for him is in itself the best work that can be, for all that pleases him must be pure and lovely, honest and of good report. Work for the eternal Father and work for Jesus are works which are good and only good. To live for Jesus is to be swayed by the noblest of motives. To live for the incarnate God is to blend the love of God and the love of men in one passion. To live for the ever-living Christ is elevating to the soul, for its results will be most enduring. When all other work is dissolved this shall abide. Men spake of painting for eternity, but we in very deed serve for eternity.

Soon shall all worlds behold the nobility of the service of Christ, for it will bring with it the most blessed of all rewards. When men look back on what they have done for their fellows, how small is the recompense of a patriotic life! The world soon forgets its benefactors. Many and many a man has been borne aloft in youth amidst the applause of men, and then in his old age he has been left to starve into his grave. He who scattered gold at first, begs pence at last: the world called him generous while he had something to give, and when he had bestowed all it blamed his imprudence. He who lives for Jesus will never have ground of complaint concerning his Lord, for he forsaketh not his saints. Never man regretted ought he did for Jesus yet, save that he may regret that he has not done ten times more. The Lord will not leave his old servants. “O God, thou hast taught me from my youth: and hitherto have I declared thy wondrous works; now also when I am old and grey-headed, O God, forsake me not,” such was the prayer of David, and he was confident of being heard. Such may be the confidence of every servant of Christ. He may go down to his grave untroubled; he may rise and enter the dread solemnities of the eternal world without a fear, for service for Christ creates heroes to whom fear is unknown.

I close by saying, that if we enter into the very spirit of this discourse, or even go beyond it,-if henceforth we live for Jesus only, so as never to know pleasure apart from him, nor to have treasure out of him, nor honour but in his honour, nor success save in the progress of his kingdom, we shall even then have done no more than he deserves at our hands. For, first, we are God’s creatures. For whom should a creature live but for his Creator? Secondly, we are his new creatures, we are the twice-born of heaven; should we not live for him by whom we have been begotten for glory? As many as have believed in Jesus are the produce of that divine power which raised the Son of God from the dead, shall they not live in newness of life? God has taken this pains with us, that he has made us twice over, and he has made a new heaven and a new earth for us to dwell in; whom should we serve with all our mind but him by whom we have been made anew? Then comes in redemption. We are not our own, for we are bought with a price. We dare not be selfish: we may not put self in opposition to God, but I must go further,-we may not allow self to be at all considered apart from God. Even when it seems that self and God might both be served at the same time, it must not be; self in any degree will spoil all. We are never to be masters, but servants always; and to serve ourselves is to make ourselves masters. Turn thine eyes, O my heart, to the cross and see him bleeding there whom heaven adored: he is the light of glory, the joy and bliss of perfect spirits, and yet he dieth there in pangs unutterable-dieth for me. O bleeding heart, my name was engraven upon thee! O tortured brain, thy thoughts were all of me! O Christ, thou lovedst me and lovest me still, and that I should serve thee seemeth but natural; that I should pray to serve with intense white-hot enthusiasm is an impulse of my life. Do you not confess it so, my brethren? Besides, remember you are one with Christ. Whom should the spouse serve but her husband? Whom should the hand serve but the head? It scarce is service. Christ is your alter ego, your other self-no, your very self; should you not live for him? You are bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh and therefore you must love him. Let a divine selfishness impel you to love your Lord. No hand, methinks, counts it hard to be serving his own head. Sure, it can be no hardness to do service to him with whom we are joined by bonds and bands of vital union. He is our head, and we are his body and his fulness. Let us fill up his glory; let us spread abroad the praises of his name. God help us to finish this sermon never, but to begin it now and go on preaching it in our lives world without end. For heaven shall lie in this: “Not unto us, not unto us, but to thy name be praise;” and the beginnings of heaven are with us now, the youth, the dawn of glory, in proportion while we say from our very souls, “Whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord; whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord’s.” And so shall it be henceforth and for ever.

As to those that know nothing of this, seeing they know not Christ, may the Lord bring them to believe in Jesus Christ this day, that they may through his grace become his servants. Amen and amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Luke 6.