Appoint my soul a place,”

Such faith as this is God’s due. He deserves nothing less than unmingled confidence. He has never lied to any one of you: never doubt him till he gives you cause for suspicion, but rest, and quietly wait, and patiently hope, and you shall see the salvation of God. As surely as the Lord liveth, he will not forsake your believing soul, but will be ever at your side till he hath done that which he hath spoken to you of, and brought you home to dwell at his right hand with his dear Son for ever and ever. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Isaiah 42:1-16; 43:1-7.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-191, 257, 193.

THE BEST OF ALL SIGHTS

A short Sermon

written at mentone, by

C. H. SPURGEON.

“But we see Jesus.”-Hebrews 2:9.

In holy Scripture faith is placed in opposition to the sight of the eyes, and yet it is frequently described as looking and seeing. It is opposed to carnal sight because it is spiritual sight; a discernment which comes not of the body, but arises out of the strong belief of the soul, wrought in us by the Holy Spirit. Faith is sight in the sense of being a clear and vivid perception, a sure and indisputable discovery, a realising and unquestionable discernment of fact. We see Jesus, for we are sure of his presence, we have unquestionable evidence of his existence, we have an intelligent and intimate knowledge of his person. Our soul has eyes far stronger than the dim optics of the body, and with these we actually see Jesus. We have heard of him, and upon the witness of that hearing we have believed, and through believing there has come to us a new life, which rejoices in new light and in opened eyes, and “we see Jesus.” In the old sense of sight we speak of him as of one “whom having not seen we love,” but in the new sense “we see Jesus.” Beloved reader, have you such a renewed nature that you have new senses, and have you with these senses discerned the Lord? If not may the Holy Spirit yet quicken you; and meanwhile, let us whom he has made alive assure you that we have heard his voice, for he saith, “My sheep hear my voice”; we have “tasted the good word of God”; we have touched him and have been made whole; we have also known the smell of his fragrance, for his name to us is “as ointment poured forth”; and now, in the words of our text, “we see Jesus.” Faith is all the senses in one, and infinitely more; and those who have it not are in a worse case than the blind and deaf, for spiritual life itself is absent.

Come, then, brethren beloved, whose eyes have been illuminated, let us muse awhile upon our privileges, that we may exercise them with delight and praise the Lord with them. First, let us regard the glorious sight of Jesus as a compensation. The text begins with “but,” because it refers to some things which we do not yet see, which are the objects of strong desire. “We see not yet all things put under him.” We do not as yet see Jesus acknowledged as King of kings by all mankind, and this causes us great sorrow, for we would fain see him crowned with glory and honour in every corner of the earth by every man of woman born. Alas, he is to many quite unknown, by multitudes rejected and despised, and by comparatively few is he regarded with reverence and love. Sights surround us which might well make us cry with Jeremiah, “Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears”; for blasphemy and rebuke, idolatry, superstition, and unbelief prevail on every side. “But,” saith the apostle, “we see Jesus,” and this sight compensates for all others, for we see him now, no longer made a little lower than the angels, and tasting the bitterness of death, but “crowned with glory and honour.” We see him no more after the flesh, in shame and anguish; far more ravishing is the sight, for we see his work accomplished, his victory complete, his empire secure. He sits as a priest upon the throne at the right hand of God, from henceforth expecting till his enemies are made his footstool.

This is a divine compensation for the tarrying of his visible kingdom, because it is the major part of it. The main battle is won. In our Lord’s endurance of his substitutionary griefs, and in the overthrow of sin, death, and hell by his personal achievements, the essence of the conflict is over. Nothing is left to be done at all comparable with that which is already performed. The ingathering of the elect, and the subjection of all things, are comparatively easy of accomplishment now that the conflict in the heavenly places is over, and Jesus has led captivity captive. We may look upon the conquest of the kingdoms of this world as a mere routing of the beaten host, now that the power of the enemy has been effectually broken by the great Captain of our salvation.

The compensation is all the greater because our Lord’s enthronement is the pledge of all the rest. The putting of all things under him, which as yet we see not, is guaranteed to us by what we do see. The exalted Saviour has all power given unto him in heaven and in earth, and with this “all power” he can, at his own pleasure, send forth the rod of his strength out of Sion, and reign in the midst of his enemies. With him are all the forces needful for universal dominion, his white horse waits at the door, and whensoever he chooses he can ride forth conquering and to conquer. At a word from his lips the harlot of Babylon shall perish, and the false prophet shall die, and the idols of the heathen shall be utterly abolished. The empire of wickedness is as a vision of the night, a black and hideous nightmare pressing on the soul of manhood, but when he awaketh he will despise its image, and it shall melt away.

Turn we then, wiping our tears away, from the wretched spectacles of human superstition, scepticism, and sorrow, to the clear vision above us in the opened heaven. There we see “the Man,” long promised, the desire of all nations, the deliverer, the death of death, the conqueror of hell; and we see him not as one who girdeth on his harness for the battle, but as one whose warfare is accomplished, who is waiting the time appointed of the Father when he shall divide the spoil. This is the antidote to all depression of spirit, the stimulus to hopeful perseverance, the assurance of joy unspeakable.

Nor is this sight a mere compensation for others which as yet are denied us, it is in itself the cause of present exultation. This is true in so many ways that time would fail us to attempt to enumerate them. “We see Jesus,” and in him we see our former unhappy condition for ever ended. We were fallen in Adam, but we see in Jesus our ruin retrieved by the second Adam. The legal covenant frowned upon us as we beheld it broken by our first federal head; the new covenant smiles upon us with a whole heaven of bliss as we see it ordered in all things and sure in him who is head over all things to the church. Sin once doomed us to eternal despair, but not now, for he who hath put away sin by the sacrifice of himself hath justified his people by his resurrection. The debt no longer burdens us, for there in eternal glory is the Man who paid it once for all. A sight of Jesus kills each guilty fear, silences each threat of conscience, and photographs peace upon the heart. There remains nothing of all the past to cause a dread of punishment, or arouse a fear of desertion; for Christ that died ever liveth to make intercession for us, to represent us before the Father, and to prepare for us a place of everlasting rest. We might see ourselves as dead under the law were it not that he has blotted out the handwriting which was against us; we might see ourselves under the curse were it not that he who was once made a curse for us now reigns in fulness of blessing. We weep as we confess our transgressions, but we see Jesus, and sing for joy of heart, since he hath finished transgression, made an end of sin, and brought in everlasting righteousness.

The same is sweetly true of the present, for we see our present condition to be thrice blessed by virtue of our union with him. We see not as yet our nature made perfect, and cleansed from every tendency to evil; rather do we groan, being burdened, because of the sin which dwelleth in us, the old man which lusteth and rebelleth against the blessed dominion of grace; and we might be sorely cast down and dragged into despair were it not that “we see Jesus,” and perceive that in him we are not what the flesh would argue us to be. He represents us most truthfully, and looking into that mirror we see ourselves justified in Christ Jesus, accepted in the beloved, adopted of the Father, dear to the Eternal heart, yea, in him raised up together, and made to sit together in the heavenlies. We see self, and blush and are ashamed and dismayed; “but we see Jesus,” and his joy is in us, and our joy is full. Think of this, dear brother in Christ, the next time you are upon the dunghill of self-loathing. Lift up now your eyes, and see where he is in whom your life is hid! See Jesus, and know that as he is so are you also before the Infinite Majesty. You are not condemned, for he is enthroned. You are not despised nor abhorred, for he is beloved and exalted. You are not in jeopardy of perishing, nor in danger of being cast away, for he dwells eternally in the bosom of the Lord God Almighty. What a vision is this for you, when you see Jesus, and see yourself complete in him, perfect in Christ Jesus!

Such a sight effectually clears our earthly future of all apprehension. It is true we may yet be sorely tempted, and the battle may go hard with us, but we see Jesus triumphant, and by this sign we grasp the victory. We shall perhaps be subjected to pain, to poverty, to slander, to persecution, and yet none of these things move us because we see Jesus exalted, and therefore know that these are under his power, and cannot touch us except as he grants them his permit so to do. Death is at times terrible in prospect, but its terror ceases when we see Jesus, who has passed safely through the shades of the sepulchre, vanquished the tyrant of the tomb, and left an open passage to immortality to all his own. We see the pains, the groans, and dying strife; see them, indeed, exaggerated by our fears, and the only cure for the consequent alarm is a sight of him who hath said, “He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.” When we see Jesus, past, present, and to come are summed up in him, and over all shines a glorious life which fills our souls with unspeakable delight.

Thirdly, “we see Jesus” with gladdest expectation. His glorious person is to us the picture and the pledge of what we shall be: for “it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.” In infinite love he condescended to become one with us here below, as saith the apostle, “Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same”; and this descent of love on his part to meet us in our low estate is the assurance that his love will lift us up to meet him in his high estate. He will make us partakers of his nature, inasmuch as he has become partaker of our nature. It is written, “Both he that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one: for which cause he is not ashamed to call them brethren.” What bliss is this, that we should be like to the incarnate God! It would seem too good to be true, were it not after the manner of our Lord to do great things for us, and unsearchable.

Nor may we alone derive comfort as to our future from his person, we may also be made glad by a hope as to his place. Where we see Jesus to be, there shall we also be. His heaven is our heaven. His prayer secures that we shall be with him where he is, that we may behold his glory. To-day we may be in a workhouse, or in the ward of a hospital, or in a ruinous hovel, “but we see Jesus,” and we know that ere long we shall dwell in the palace of the great King.

The glory of Jesus strikes the eye at once, and thus we are made to exult in his position, for it, too, is ours. He will give to us to sit upon his throne, even as he sits upon the Father’s throne. He hath made us kings and priests unto God, and we shall reign for ever and ever. Whatever of rest, happiness, security, and honour our glorious Bridegroom has attained, he will certainly share it with his spouse; yea, and all his people shall know what it is to be heirs of God, joint heirs with Jesus Christ, if so be that we suffer with him that we may also be glorified together.

How soon our condition shall rise into complete likeness to the ascended Lord we cannot tell, but it cannot be long, and it may be a very short time. The veil of time is in some cases very thin, another week may be the only separation. And then! Ah, then! We shall see Jesus, and what a sight will it be! Heaven lies in that vision. ’Tis all the heaven our loving hearts desire.

The sight of Jesus which we now enjoy is a foretaste of the clearer sight which is reserved for us, and therefore it will be a happy wisdom to be much in the enjoyment of it. A thousand things tempt us away, and yet there is not one of them worth a moment’s thought in comparison. What are works of art and discoveries of science if compared with our Beloved? What are the gems which adorn the brow of beauty, or the eyes which flash from the face of loveliness, if placed in rivalry with him? Other matters, weighty and important, call for our thought; and yet even these we may place in a second rank when Jesus is near.

We may not be doctors of divinity, much as we would desire to be deeply instructed in the truth; “but we see Jesus.” Into many mysteries we cannot pry; “but we see Jesus.” Where the divine sovereignty harmonizes with human responsibility is too deep a problem for us; “but we see Jesus.” The times and the seasons baffle us, the dispensation of the end is dark to us, “but we see Jesus.” Glory over us, ye far-seeing prophets! Deride us, ye deep-glancing philosophers! We leave you to your boastings. We are poor, short-sighted beings, and know but little, but one thing we know, whereas we were once blind, now we see, and “we see Jesus.”

This sight has made us unable to see many things which now dazzle our fellow men. They can see priestly power in a certain set of men like themselves. This we cannot see, for “we see Jesus,” as ending the line of sacrificing priests, and bestowing a common priesthood upon all the saints. Many see great wisdom in the various schools of doubt, in which we see nothing except pretentious folly, for “we see Jesus,” and all human wisdom pales before the wisdom of God, which is perfected in him. Certain of our brethren see perfection in the flesh, “but we see Jesus”; others see the church, and their own sect, “but we see Jesus.” A few see nothing but their own separateness from everybody else, and the peculiar excellence of their exclusiveness, “but we see Jesus.”

Come, beloved, let us get to our secret chambers of communion, and see Jesus there as from the hill of Pisgah. Let us turn the pages of Scripture, and see Jesus there amid the beds of spices. Let us frequent ordinances, especially the breaking of bread, and see Jesus there. Let us watch in our experience, as we are conformed unto his sufferings, and see him there. Let us go into the field of holy labour, and as we gird ourselves and put on the yoke of service, let us see our Master there. Yea, in all things let us learn to see our Lord, for nature and Providence, experience and Scripture are hung with mirrors which reflect him. Till the day break and the shadows flee away let us continue to gaze upon him, till our eyes shall actually see him for ourselves and not another. Be this the grand distinction of our lives: whatever others may see or not see,

“We See Jesus.”

THE HUNGER-BITE

A Sermon

delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“His strength shall be hunger-bitten.”-Job 18:12.

Bildad was declaring the history of the hypocritical, presumptuous, and wicked man; and he intended, no doubt, to insinuate that Job was just such a person, that he had been a deceiver, and that therefore at last God’s providence had found him out and was visiting him for his sins. In this Bildad was guilty of great injustice to his friend. All the three miserable comforters of Job were mistaken in the special aim of their discourses, and yet concerning the speeches of each one it may be said that their general statements were, for the most part, true. They uttered truths, but they drew mistaken inferences, and they were ungenerous in the imputations which they cast upon Job. It is true that, sooner or later, either in this world or the next, all conceivable curses do fall upon the hypocrite and the ungodly man, but it is not true that when a Christian is in trouble we are to judge that he is suffering for his sin. It would be both cruel and wicked for us to think so. Nevertheless, because what Bildad said was, in the main, true, though unkindly and wrongly applied, we feel ourselves quite at liberty to take a text out of his mouth.

It is true of many persons that their strength shall be hunger-bitten, and I shall speak concerning these words in three ways, noticing first, that this is a curse which will surely be fulfilled upon the ungodly. Secondly, this is a discipline which God often exercises upon the self-righteous when he means to save them. And, thirdly-and it is grievous work to have to say it-this is a form of chastisement upon believers who are not living near to God as they ought to be-their strength becomes hunger-bitten.

First we shall view our text as a curse which will be fulfilled upon the ungodly. “His strength shall be hunger-bitten.”

It is not said that they are hunger-bitten merely, but that their strength is so; and if their strength be hunger-bitten what must their weakness be? When a man’s strength is bitten with hunger, what a hunger must be raging throughout the whole of his nature.

Now, a large proportion of men make their gold to be their strength, their castle and their high tower, and for awhile they do rejoice in their wealth, and find great satisfaction in gathering it, in seeing it multiplied, and in hoping by-and-by that it shall come to great store. But every ungodly man ought to know that riches are not for ever, and often they take to themselves wings and fly away. Men of colossal fortunes have dwindled down to beggars; they made great ventures and realized great failures. None are secure. As long as a man is in this world he is like a ship at sea, he is still liable to be shipwrecked. O you that are boasting in your gold, and calling your treasure your chief good, the day may come to you when your strength will be hunger-bitten, and, like the victims of famine, you will find yourselves helpless,-you whose money aforetime answered all things, and made you feel omnipotent.

But it will be said, of course, that it is not in every case that the ungodly man’s strength of wealth is hunger-bitten; and I willingly concede it. But it comes to pass in another fashion. How many there are who keep their wealth, and yet, for all that, are very poor. It is not that the gold goes, but it stays by them and does not comfort them. I do not know which would be the worse of the two-to be hungry for want of bread, or to have abundance of bread, and yet remain hungry eat whatever you might. Thousands in this world are precisely in that condition. They have all that heart could wish, if their heart were right, but it seems nothing to them because they have envy in their spirits. Remember Haman. He is invited to the banquet of wine, he is a chief noble of the empire, he has his monarch’s favour, but all that avails him nothing because Mordecai sits in the gate. Envy has cankered his soul, and if he were able to mount to the throne of Ahasuerus himself it would make no difference to him; he would be unhappy there; and all because one poor Jew will not bow to him. There are persons going up and down Cheapside every day who are intolerably wretched about a something which they would hardly like to mention to reasonable men. A wretched trifle frets them like a moth in a garment, and all the glory of their position is eaten away: their strength is hunger-bitten.

Where the canker does not happen to be envy it may come to be a passion akin to it, namely, revenge. Alas, that we should have to talk of revenge as still existing upon this earth after Christ has been here and taught us to pray, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” Yet there are ungodly men who even think it right to foster resentments. A word uncourteously spoken, a deed unkindly done, will be laid up, and an opportunity sought for retaliation; or, if not, a hope will be cherished that some blight, or blow from God, may fall upon the offender: and if that offender still bears himself aloft, and lives right merrily, and makes no recompense for the wrong done, the aggrieved one has eaten out his own heart with chagrin, and the strength of his wealth has been hunger-bitten.

Where this has not been the case, it has, perhaps, more frequently happened that persons have been afflicted by avarice. Nothing more tends to impoverish a man than being rich. It is a hard thing to find a rich man who enjoys riches. A rich man is a man who has all he wants, and many a man is rich on a few shillings a week: a poor man is a man who does not get what he wants, and people with twenty thousand a-year are in that list. In fact, where shall you find such poverty as among those poor rich men? The miser is often pictured as afraid to sleep because thieves may break in; he rises at midnight to tell over his hoarded treasure, he is afraid lest bonds, securities, mortgages, and the like may, after all, turn out to be mere waste paper; he frets and stews and mars his life because he has too great a means of living-such a man may not be very common, but it is an easy thing to find people who have very much, and yet are just as careful, just as grasping, just as fretful after more, as if they had but newly started in business, and were almost penniless-their strength is hunger-bitten. If somebody had told them, “You will one day reach to so many thousand pounds,” they would have said, “Ah, if ever I get that amount I shall be perfectly satisfied.” They have saved that sum long ago, and ten times as much, and now they say, “Ah, you don’t know what it is to want money till you have a good portion of it. Now we have so much we must have more. We are up to our necks in the golden stream, and we must needs swim where the bottom cannot be touched.” Poor fools! They have enough water to float them, but they must have enough to drown in. One stick is a capital thing for a lame man, as I know right well, but a thousand sticks would make a terrible load for a man to carry. When any one has a sufficiency let him be thankful for so convenient a staff, but if he will not use what he has until he has accumulated much more, the comfort of his substance is gone, and his strength is hunger-bitten.

There are cases in which the hunger-bite does not take a shape which I could well describe. Instances are met with of persons who have made their gold their strength, who are altogether unrestful. Some have thought that their brain was diseased, but it is likely that the disease was lower down, and in their hearts. We have known wealthy men who believed themselves to be poor, and were haunted with the idea that they should die in the poor-house, even when they were worth a million; and others who have quarrelled about the division of a farthing, when the loss of ten thousand pounds would have been a fleabite to them. In great substance they have found no substantial rest. They have often wished they could be as cheerful as their own menial servants. As they have lolled in their carriage, and looked at the rosy cheeks of the urchins in the village, they have coveted their health and felt willing to wear their rags if they could possess their appetites. As they have looked upon poor persons with family loves and domestic joys, and felt that their own joys were few in that direction, they have greatly envied them. It is a great mercy when the worldling is made uneasy in this world; it is a ground for hope that God means to wean him from his idols. But, alas, there are some who do not rest here, and yet will not rest hereafter. They have no rest in all that God has given them under the sun, and yet they will not fly to him who is the soul’s sure repose.

I need not dwell for another moment upon the failure of the strength which is found in riches. It is the same with all sorts of men who try to find comfort out of Christ and away from God, their “strength shall be hunger-bitten.” What a melancholy instance of this is Solomon. He had an opportunity to try everything in his quest for the chief good, and he did test everything, so that we need not repeat the experiment. He was the great alchemist who tried to turn all manner of metals into gold, but failed with them all. At one time he was building great palaces, and when the building fit was on him he seemed happy; but when once the gorgeous piles were finished he said, “Vanity of vanities: all is vanity.” Then he would take to gardening and to the planting of rare plants and trees, and to the digging of fountains, but when he had done enough of this he looked upon his orchard and vineyards and again muttered, “Vanity of vanities: all is vanity.” Then he thought he would try laughter and madness: the comic side of human life he would test, as well as the useful; so he plunged into all manner of pleasures, and gathered to himself singing men and singing women, and all delights of the flesh, but after he had drank deep of that cup he said again, “Vanity of vanities: all is vanity.” Poor Solomon! He had great strength, but his strength was hunger-bitten. He looked here and there, up and down, on the right hand and on the left, and found no bread for his soul; he snatched at shadows and tried to feed himself with bubbles; he was devoured with hunger in the midst of plenty; and where the humble people of Israel were blessing the God who satisfied their mouth with good things and renewed their youth like the eagles, poor Solomon was complaining that there was nothing new under the sun, and that it was better for a man not to be born than to have lived at all.

Now remark that if this hunger does not come upon the ungodly man during the former part of his life, it will come to him at the close of it. While we have much to do and our minds are occupied we may be able to put off thought, but when, at last, God sends to us that messenger with the bony hand, whose oratory is soul piercing, the dulness of whose eyeless eye darts fire into the soul, then will all human strength be hunger-bitten. When death is left alone with the man, then he perceives that his money bags contain nothing precious, because he must leave them. How now with his broad acres? How now with his large estates? How now with his palatial residence? How now with all that he called dear? How now with his doctor’s degree and his learning? How now with his fame and his honour? How now even with his domestic comforts and the joys of life? Hunger-bitten are they all. When he comes to die they cannot help him. The soul that is within him, which he would not allow to speak, now opens its hungry mouth and cries, “Thou hast denied me bread. God, and God alone, could fill me; and thou hast denied me God; and now thou feelest the hunger which has come upon me, and thou must feel it, and feel it, too, for ever.” Alas, alas, alas, for a man to have spent all his life in earning a disappointment, labouring hard to lose his soul, sweating and straining to lose the race, tugging and toiling to be damned; for that is the case of many a man, and that is whereunto the tide drifteth with all mankind who seek for lasting good apart from God and apart from the blood and righteousness of God’s dear Son. Of each one of them it shall be said, “His strength shall be hunger-bitten.”

I have said these things mournfully to my own heart; but I would say to any of you who may not be rich, but who are looking for your good in your own little home and the comforts of it-any of you young men who are seeking the great object of life in learning, or the like-if you are not living for God, your strength will be hunger-bitten. If you do not “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” whatever you gain and however satisfied you may be for a little while, an awful hunger must ultimately come upon you, and you will then lament that you spent your money for that which is not bread and your labour for that which satisfieth not.

Briefly, in the second place, we shall speak of our text as indicating a kind of discipline through which God puts the self-righteous when he means to save them.

Many people are very religious, and yet are not saved. They are unsaved because they go about to establish their own righteousness, and have not submitted themselves to the righteousness which is of God in Jesus Christ. Now, these persons may for awhile be very well satisfied with their own righteousness, and if they are not the children of God they will be satisfied with it for life. Some of them talk in this way,-“I don’t know that I ever wronged anybody. I have always been honest and honourable in my transactions, and I have brought up my children respectably. I have had a hard fight of it, and for all that nobody could say that I ever disgraced my character.” It is not very long ago that I was driven by a cabman, an aged man, and when I got out of his cab I referred to his age, and he remarked upon it himself: I said, “Well, I trust when this life is over you will have a portion in a better world.” “Yes, I think so, sir,” he said: “I was never drunk, that I know of, in my life; was always reckoned a civil man; never used bad language; and I go to church sometimes.” He seemed to be perfectly satisfied, and to be quite astonished that I did not express my assurance of his safety. His confidence is the common reliance of all classes of Englishmen, and though they may not always put it in that shape, yet that is the notion-that by a sort of goodness, a very poor and mangled goodness, men may after all enter heaven. Now, when God means to save a man the hunger of the heart comes in and devours all his boasted excellence. Why, a spiritually hungry soul would take fifty years of self-righteousness and swallow them up like a morsel, and cry for more. Our goodness is nothing compared with the demands of the law and the necessities of the case. Our fine righteousnesses, how they shrivel up like autumn leaves when the Spirit of God acts as a frost to them. Our virtues are as a meadow in the spring bedecked with golden kingcups, but when the Spirit of God bloweth upon it the grass withereth, and the flower thereof fadeth, for all flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of grass. It is a part of the operation of the Holy Ghost to wither all the goodliness of human nature, and to destroy all those lovely flowers of natural virtue in which we put such store, cutting them down as with a mower’s scythe. In truth, there is none good, no, not one. We are all shut up in unbelief and sin by nature. In the best of natures sin affects the whole body, “the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint,” and it is a great blessing when the Holy Spirit makes us feel this. Painful is the feeling but blessed is the result when, once for all, our strength is hunger-bitten.

Ay, and there are some who are very satisfied because, in addition to a commendable life, they have performed certain ceremonies to which they impute great sanctity. There is a theory abroad nowadays which some persons who are not in either the lunatic or the idiot asylum believe, namely, the theory that sacramental performances convey grace. It is wonderful how a rational being can ever think so, but there are persons, who are apparently rational in other things, who believe that the sprinkling of drops of water upon an infant’s brow regenerates it, that the eating of bread and the drinking of wine really convey Christ to the soul, and so on: that aqueous applications and materialistic festivities can bring spiritual good to the heart-a monstrous doctrine, worthy of the priests of Baal, but so foolish as to make one doubt his ears when he hears it stated. Because they have gone through these operations, and have been confirmed, and I do not know what besides, many are content. Others who happen to belong to a dissenting community have passed through the ordeal of joining the church, or have attended class-meetings, and have subscribed to the various societies, think that, therefore, they are saved. Heirs of hell will rest content with such outward things, but heirs of heaven never can. Their strength, if they make external religion their strength, will by-and-by be hunger-bitten, and they will cry out,” My God, my soul panteth for thee as the hart pants for the water-brooks. I cannot be satisfied with outward forms, I want inward grace, and I cannot be content with being told that the grace went with the form. I want to know the grace of God in truth, I long to feel it, I pine to exhibit it in my own life.” To be told I was born again when I was a babe will not satisfy me; I want to feel the inner life, the new life of God within my spirit. To be told that I did eat Christ when I ate the bread will not content me; my heart longs to know that Christ is really in me the hope of glory, and. that I am living upon him. If I cannot have communion with God and with his dear Son for myself in my very soul, I turn with loathing from every substitute, ritualistic, priestly, or otherwise. Beloved, I would have you flee from every sacrament to the Saviour; I would have you fly away from ceremonies to the cross of Christ. There is your only hope. Look to him by faith: for all the rest without this is but outward and carnal, and can minister no good to your spirit. May your strength be hunger-bitten if you are resting in anything which is external and unspiritual.

Many a person has known what it is to have this hunger-bite go right through everything he rested in. I once knew what it was to get a little comfort from my prayers before I found the Saviour, but when the Spirit of God dealt with me I saw that my prayers wanted praying over again. I thought I had some sort of repentance, and I began to be contented with it; but when the Spirit of God came I found that my repentance needed to be repented of. I had felt some confidence in my Bible readings, and hoped that my regular attendance upon public worship would bring me salvation, but I found that I was after all mocking the Word, for I was reading it, but not believing it; hearing it, but not accepting it; was increasing my knowledge and my responsibility, and yet was not rendering obedience to God. Dear soul, if you are resting anywhere short of Christ, may your strength be hunger-bitten. You are at your strongest when you are utter weakness apart from him. When you rest in him completely, and alone, then is salvation accomplished in you, but not till then. May God in his infinite mercy grant that all your strength apart from Christ may be hunger-bitten, and that speedily.

Lastly, and very earnestly-and perhaps this last part may have more reference to most of you than anything I have said-I believe there are many of God’s servants whose strength is lamentably hunger-bitten. In this age we are all busy, and through being busy we are apt to neglect the soul-feeding ordinances; I mean the reading of Scripture, the hearing of the word, meditation upon it, prayer and communion with God. Some of you do not rise so soon as you might in the morning, and prayer is hurried over; and too often at eventide you are half asleep with the many cares of the day, and prayer is offered in a slovenly way. Nor is this all, for during the day when, if you were as you should be, you would be praying without ceasing, there is this to think of, and that, and the other, and such a pressure of business that ejaculations are few. How can you pray? You did at one time get a text of Scripture in the morning and chew it all day, and you used to get much sweetness out of it, and your soul grew; but now, instead of a text of Scripture, you have pressing engagements as soon as you are out of bed. You would, now and then, steal into a mid-day prayer-meeting, perhaps, or get two or three minutes alone, but you have gradually dropped that habit, and you have felt justified in doing so for “really, time is so precious, and there is so much to do in this age of competition.” Dear friend, I am no judge for you, but let me ask you whether you are not becoming hunger-bitten through not feeding upon the word of God. Souls cannot be strong without spiritual meat any more than bodies can be well when meals are neglected. There is a good rule I have heard mothers say about children and chickens-“little and often”; and I think it is true with Christians. They want little and often during the day; not a long passage of Scripture, perhaps memory would fail, but a short passage now and a short passage then, and a little prayer here and a little prayer there. It is wonderful how souls grow in that way. Alas! I fear all this is neglected, and spiritual strength is hunger-bitten. Let us begin from this time forward to give attention to the sustenance of our souls. Let us daily feed upon the word of God, that we may grow thereby; so shall our strength no more be hunger-bitten.

END OF VOLUME XXV.