U N S E A R C H A B L E R I C H E S

Being Meditations and Letters from the

Chamber of a Suffering Saint.

BY THE LATE

JOHN DICKIE, of Irvine

Author of; "Songs of Faith, Hope, and Love"

"

Words of Faith, Hope and Love" &

More Words of Faith, Hope and Love"

c., &c

"

&

~

With Permission of ~

"

OLD PATHS GOSPEL PRESS"

P. O. Box 318 - Choteau, MT. 59422

Phone /Fax (406) 466-2311

Originally Published By:

John Ritchie

Kilmarnock, Scotland

1

900

Praise For: “John Dickie's Writings"

We very strongly commend to our readers a little book entitled,

UNSEARCHABLE RICHES, by the late John Dickie. Those who were

privileged to read these messages written from a bed of intense

suffering, will be eager to procure the volume now before us. Rarely

does one meet with writings so choice and eloquent in character. Each

sentence is rounded with intense feeling underlying, which one is

conscious of a spirit of sanctity, only secured by close and constant

communion with Christ. Perhaps the nature of its contents can be best

described by the following brief extracts:—

"As we love God, just as much and no more, shall His love to us be our

unspeakable delight. Just as we love God, shall all His Providential

dealings, whether afflicting or comforting, bring a ceaseless joy to us,

just as we love Him, shall duty be a pleasure, worship an exquisite

enjoyment, and self-denial sweeter than any self-indulgence could be.

Just as we love Him, shall earth become like heaven; this waste howling

wilderness shall be lovelier to our vision than Eden was; it shall be a

Holy 0f Holies, filled on all sides with the tokens of our Fathers Majestic

Presence. Conversion has not changed it, (the heart); it has given him

a new nature, and left the old as it was. He has two natures now, and it

is this new man in him which is to rule, ay, and to crucify the sin-loving

old man (Gal. v. 24). We need to use force against our own flesh, to

knock down our opposing self, as it were, and striding over it, lay eager

hold on Jesus. And this we are quite able to do; if we have faith

enough to rise up to the resolution; Christ will give us strength.”

"Footsteps of Truth" - 1897

"Such letters as could only have been written by one 'chosen in the

furnace of affliction'. Only the true spiritual will care for such a book.

To me, they have been a drink from the brook by the way. As in water,

face answereth unto face, so does our own experience answer to that of

this gracious sufferer----though we blush when we mark his patience, and

our own haste to escape from disease."

Charles Haddon Spurgeon

"A voice speaks from John Dickie's 'eight years' sick chamber, such as

did from Elisha's sick chamber of old, to cheer on all God's bodily

sufferers, and also all His active workers in their good fight against the

world, the flesh, and the devil."

Henry Dyer

"Mr. Dickie's letters remind me of Samuel Rutherford's, in the depths of

their personal acquaintance with, and joy in the Lord; and I can only

desire that they may attain a wide circulation, and be greatly used of

God in the edifying and sanctifying of His people. Their effect on me

every time I take them up, is to humble me in the dust, and yet to draw

me towards the One who is their theme throughout."

John Robert Caldwell

PREFACE.

The following pages contain Short Meditations and Letters written by

one who was called in the furnace of affliction. There, in seclusion from

the outer world, he was led by the Spirit, through the Word, into a

knowledge of "the deep things of God," and into a joyful possession of

the "Unsearchable Riches of Christ," such as few in this day of bustle

and occupation with the outward things of Christianity, attain to. They

were written to friends and fellow-believers in the Lord, in varied

circumstances, walking in different paths, for personal comfort and

edification. But the needs of the Lord's flock, wherever they may be

found, are very much the same, and the ministry of Christ's

unsearchable riches through his tried and suffering servant, were felt to

be so precious, and so well fitted to help and cheer the people of God,

that those who originally received them, willingly consented to their

publication, personal references excepted. The brief Memorial Sketch

has been contributed by one who was personally acquainted with Mr.

Dickie for many years. A former volume of letters written to his friend,

Mr. James Todd, of Dublin, and entitled: "Words of Faith, Hope, and

Love," (Now published by "Gospel Tract Publications" Glasgow,

Scotland) has proved a channel of much blessing to the children of God.

May the following pages from the same pen, mostly written in the same

lone chamber, where the suffering saint communed with his God, and

meditated with joyful spirit on the sacred pages of His holy Word, be to

the pilgrim people of God as streams in the desert, and rills of refreshing

making glad the heart, in the personal enjoyment of Christ's

"Unsearchable Riches."

A Brief Memorial Sketch of the Late

Mr. John Dickie.

John Dickie was born in the small seaport town of Irvine, Ayrshire, on

9th of January, 1823. His mother died when he was twelve years old,

having been for many years a sufferer from spinal disease. His father,

who carried on business as a grocer, died three years later. Thus he and

one sister were left orphans at an early age. John was a delicate boy, of

a very sensitive temperament; modest and retiring, but always of a kind

and warm-hearted disposition. While his mother lived, he often sat by

her bed, and from her lips, he learned much precious, and

never-to-be-forgotten truths. After she was called away, he was very

lonely, and always observed the anniversary of her death with great

solemnity. When his school days were over, he continued his studies,

and prepared to enter Glasgow University, which he did in the year 1841

at the age of eighteen. Here he came in contact with divers and strange

doctrines, and his mind became tinged with infidel opinions, reading all

the skeptical literature he could lay his hands on. But this only

increased his distress, for it was evident that at this time, the Spirit of

God was working deep conviction in his soul, showing him his need of a

Saviour. The crisis was reached on the occasion of one of his visits to

Irvine, which were made on foot. Coming along the road, musing on

the many things he had read, the Spirit of God filled his mind with light,

and he saw that the Gospel of God alone could meet his soul's deep

need. Arriving in Irvine, he shut himself up in the little room that he

occupied, and there, alone with God, the great transaction of his second

birth was accomplished. In after years, he often pointed to the window

of that little room, which was now to him the most sacred spot on earth,

and said, "It was there that I passed from death unto life." His

experience before, and at the time of his conversion, is touchingly

related in one of his hymns, which here we give in full, in the hope that

it may be blessed, as it has been to others, to lead the reader, if still

unsaved, to rest in Jesus Christ the Saviour of sinners, who is just as able

and willing now to save, as He was that day long ago when John Dickie

came up to Him as a weary sinner and found rest to his soul.

ONLY THE SINNER FINDS THE SAVIOUR.

"I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Matt. ix. 13.)

Life was once to me like summer,

With its glitter and its smile;

I, as thoughtless as the insect,

Trifled through the little while.

All was buoyant life within me,

All was jubilant around;

Need of Jesus then I felt not,

So I sought Him not, nor found.

But the summer soon was ended,

And the gloomy winter came;

All my blooming joys were withered

Into griefs of every name.

Still, I hoped the change of season

Would bring summer round again:

But, instead, the gloom grew blacker---

And I sought the Saviour then.

Yes, I sought with cries and weeping,

But no answer was returned,

Echo flung me back my 'plainings,

'Twas as if my cry was spurned.

Sore distressed at the silence,

I with fervour did entreat;

Still the ear could catch no answer,

Save the heart's distracted beat.

Well I know 'twas but through Jesus

That the sinner comes to God:

But with what we come to Jesus?

Ah! 'twas here I missed the road:

I was bringing Him obedience,

When I should have brought but sin;

So my knocking, though half-frantic,

No admittance thus could win.

Then I studied to know better

What already well I knew;

And the good things that I practiced,

Better still I strove to do:

Yet the deeper grew the darkness,

And the silence grew more dread,

So I owned my case was hopeless,

And my soul among the dead.

Then I cast me, self-despairing,

On the Saviour's boundless grace;

Not a hope had I of blessing,

If HE met not such a case.

And I felt that need so urgent

Scarce on earth could ever be:

So I begged for one so ruined,

Mercy instant, mercy free.

Then at once the peace of pardon

Did my sinking soul restore,

And the love sprung up spontaneous,

Which could not force before.

When I took the place of sinner,

And at Mercy's footstool lay,

Jesus took His place as SAVIOUR,

And at once put sin away.

Ah! 'tis ruinous to cover

Filthy sores with rags more foul:

Strip them bare at once before Him,

That His grace may make you whole.

He delights in showing mercy

To a soul that owns its sin;

But the soul that thinks of earning,

Not a smile shall ever win.

He had many severe and lengthened conflicts---as all true believers

have---after his conversion, and had to learn by bitter experience, as

some of his letters show, the evil of his own heart. But these

experiences gave character to his after life, and gave him, to more fully

prove the grace and power of a present God.

Being now the Lord's, he resolved to give himself wholly to His service.

His ardent desire was to preach the glad tidings to others, and so having

finished his University career, he entered the Divinity Hall, but after one

brief season there, his health gave way, and he was obliged to return to

Irvine, where he gradually became worse, until for over two years, his

voice so completely failed, that he had to communicate with his sister by

means of the Deaf and Dumb Alphabet.

About this time, there was in London, a distinguished physician, who

was skilled in chest diseases, and Mr. Dickie took the long journey to

London to consult him. He had an interview with this physician, but

got no help; in fact, he was told that his case was hopeless, and that he

could not live for twelve months. Turning his back on the great city, he

said to himself, "If it be the will of God, notwithstanding this verdict, I

shall yet live; if otherwise, His will be done."

Returning to Irvine, he began to study his trouble, and to adopt a system

of very simple diet, living a life of extreme moderation, which under the

blessing of God, was the means of prolonging his life, after human skill

had failed, for over forty years.

During these years of weakness, Mr. Dickie was not idle. He sought to

redeem every opportunity of speaking a word for His Master. When

able to walk in the country, he was in the habit of slipping tracts into the

hedges and down by the wayside, each followed by earnest prayer that

God would make them a message to the soul of the reader.

For a brief period, he went to Cairnryan, in Wigtownshire, as a school

teacher, but was unable to remain. Then he laboured as a missionary in

Irvine for several years, chiefly among the lower classes, earnestly

seeking their salvation.

In 1858, Mr. Dickie removed to Kilmarnock, where for twenty years he

served the Lord as his health permitted. Here he laboured among the

sick and the poor, and often among the dissipated and openly ungodly.

Many remarkable cases of conversion occurred during these years.

Narratives of several of these have been published, such as "Philip

Sharkey, the Kilmarnock Blacksmith"---"The Missing Receipt"---"The

Story of William Cochrane"---"We'll get it if we be earnest enough" and

others, which have been widely circulated, and greatly blessed to souls.

In 1878, Mr. Dickie became very feeble, and was obliged to return to

Irvine, where he remained, tenderly cared for by his sister, her husband,

and family, until he was called home. For several years, he was able to

move about, serving the Lord as he had opportunity, always rising at

four a.m., for meditation and prayer. Later, irritation of the brain

caused him much suffering, and produced great giddiness, by which he

had some narrow escapes, repeatedly falling and bruising himself. Even

then, he was by no means idle. By his pen and later, by the aid of a

type-writing machine, he was able to communicate with friends and

fellow-believers, and to send from his lonely chamber, those letters and

meditations which have proved such a means of refreshing to the people

of God.

His diet consisted of, from one to two ounces of bread in milk, or milk

and water, three times a day. His weight, dressed in overcoat and

boots, was 87 1/2 pounds, and as may be guessed, he was like a skeleton.

He would say laughing---"The worms will get a cheat with me some

day." His lonely chamber was as the gate of heaven, yea, it was the

dwelling-place of the Most High. He loved to say---"We must not think

of heaven as being now inaccessible or even at a distance. It is, if we

choose to have it so, as close to us as earth, nay, it is closer. For what is

heaven? It is simply the dwelling-place of God, and that condition of a

soul, by which God is known, and loved, and enjoyed. And this heaven

can be entered, can be dwelt in, can be enjoyed now, in every place and

under every set of circumstances. We can even now dwell in God (see

1

John iv. 16), and that is heaven. God is nearer to His people's spirits,

than their clothes are to their bodies, nay, than our bodies are to our

souls. He dwells as in His chosen home, in the humble and the contrite

heart." Such was the experience of the happy sufferer. Even amid

trying sickness, with sleeplessness, he was most contented and always

happy, with a strong sense of humour in his nature; very fond of

children, and ever ready to have a hearty laugh at their childish tricks.

His last eight years were spent in entire seclusion; few, very few having

seen him, save those who nursed and ministered to him. But his

consolations abounded. Often did he say and write to friends---"These

are my best years." As the end drew near, he suffered from

enlargement of the liver and edema. For twenty days, he could only

take sips of water. He felt that his work was done, and his warfare was

over. Nothing remained, but to die, and to him, it was no hard work.

Words of love and streams of refreshing still flowed from his lips, as he

drew near the gate of paradise, and on January 10th, 1891, at five o'clock

in the morning of the Lord's Day, the ransomed and happy spirit of

John Dickie left the frail tent to be "with Christ, which is far better."

THE BOUNDLESS LOVE OF GOD.

"God is Love" {John iv. 8}

I have just been musing to my great refreshment, on the most beautiful

words which have ever been presented to my mind: the words, "GOD IS

LOVE." We need, of course, other and apparently incompatible words,

else with these alone, our wicked hearts would be sure to pervert them.

Still, we cannot afford to abate the joy which the whole-hearted faith in

the love of God to ourselves is fitted to give.

Amid the troubles of one's outward life, and the still more harassing

perplexities of our outward life, how inexpressibly sweet to lie down,

wearied and exhausted, on this confidence of the Heavenly Father's

Infinite Love to us in Christ Jesus, as on a soft bed, and fall into a sound

sleep of faith, with which God refreshes His beloved (Psa. cxxvii. 2; iv.

8

).

God made us in his first creation, in holy, pure love, that He might find

in us, objects of His love, and might enjoy the delight of expending on

us the plentiful tokens of His love. Not to get out of us, but to give to

us, was His end in making us at all. And though sin has come in

between Him and us, and has completely broken up the original holy

intercourse, which was so delightful to Him, and to His obedient

creatures, yet sin, even an UTTER DEATH IN SIN, has not rooted out

God's love to us the sinners; nay, it has not diminished in the slightest

degree, the greatness of His unspeakable love to us. Oh, how delightful

to have the deeply-convicted heart resting in sweetest peace, on the

assured faith of this.

Our sin itself He hates, with His WHOLE heart's WHOLE power of

UNRELENTING HATRED, and He tells us this in plainest words; but

ourselves the guilty sinners, He loves us tenderly as ever. In this aspect,

His love takes the form of rescuing us from that which had destroyed us,

and which He unspeakably abhors. In proceeding to carry out His holy

and loving purpose in attaining this rescue, He has shown in an

unspeakable way, both His infinite HATRED of our sin, and His infinite

LOVE of ourselves. He has done this at a cost which it overpowers us to

look at, when the Holy Spirit helps us to an adequate vision if it.

And now the revelation of the glorious fact that "GOD IS LOVE,"

which is made through the new creation, surpasses immeasurably all that

had been seen of it in the old creation.

It is "in Christ" that the "exceeding riches" of Divine Love are

manifested, and when angels would expand their spirits with the

enrapturing vision, it is to the marvels of human redemption that they

turn (1 Peter i. 12; Eph. iii. 17, 19). And as the workings of Divine Grace

are carried on in a soul, in every successive stage, is a fresh evidence that

GOD IS LOVE. Oh, the unwearied patience! Oh, the inexhaustible

mercy!

And now, in the case of that soul, he being "in Christ" (Eph. i. 2), and

the Holy Spirit in him (1 Cor. vi. 19), the man is more than ever Adam

could have been, the object of God's unrestrained love. He ought to fill

his heart with the joyous assurance of this. So condescending is the

amazing love of the Father, that He now yearns for our love in return,

and it is a joy to Him when we give Him that return. In truth, He has

given us His WHOLE HEART, and He wants us to love Him so, that we

shall give Him ours in return. And this is precisely what faith does. It

both accepts the immense gift of God's infinite love, rejoicing

unspeakably in the possession of it, while in delighted response, it gives

back to God all its heart love again.

THE PERFECT LOVE OF THE SON OF GOD.

"As the Father hath loved Me, so have I loved you"

(

John xv. 9).

Your parcel of most beautiful flowers, came safe to hand last week, and I

beg now to thank you for them with all my heart. I got them put in

water, and they shed their loveliness and their sweet odours around my

corner for many days. But more delightful far, than the loveliness of

the flowers, is your kindness and sympathy in thinking of me at all, and

taking the trouble to send them. . . . I like exceedingly to hear from, or

about, beloved friends, and whatever may be interesting them. My

world is now become a very small and narrow one; and there is constant

need for me to watch and pray, that I do not permit myself to become

the centre of it, the great point of interest in it, to myself. That would

simply be spiritual death, and I dread it; and so feel thankful for every

little help I can get, to be occupied about others; to think of, and be

concerned about, and pray for, beloved ones everywhere.

SELF-ABSORPTION would be uttermost ruin.

Indeed, I may say, my little world is the Bible; and increasingly I am

finding in it everything that I can need. I have just been digging among

the golden nuggets in Gal. ii. 20---a passage which I believe has given me

many months (put all together) of the happiest enjoyment possible on

earth. It seems to me to contain the concentrated essence of the entire

Word of God. Oh, to have the anointed eye, to discover clearly the

wonders comprehended in it. My last exercise on it, was taken up with

the closing words---"Who loved ME, and gave Himself for me." What

an exquisitely delightful subject for believing meditation, is this LOVE

OF JESUS! And how fruitful is it! One hungering for a delicious apple

or two, with which to comfort himself (Song ii. 3), no sooner attempts to

pluck one, than the loaded branches half bury him under a pelting

shower of mellow fruit. How wonderful is this love of Jesus! And how

delightful when a hearty faith appropriates it, and enjoys it, and rests in

it! It is wonderful in the fact of it; and that such a One would so love

creatures like ourselves; and it is equally wonderful in the manner of it

(1 John iii. 1). It is wonderful in what it has done, in what it is now

doing, and in what it proposes to do for its blessed objects, for

evermore.

How inexpressibly sweet is love! I know nothing near so sweet as to be

worthily beloved, except it be to the giver of the love, rather than the

receiver, and this last is far the sweeter. In regard to faith's fellowship

of love with Jesus, we have the twofold joy of both getting and giving.

We get, up to Christ's uttermost capacity of loving us; and we give, up

to our capacity of loving at all, when that capacity is enlarged by the

Holy Ghost. What an incomparably happy life, then, is a life of true

communion with the Son of God in love! Let Him grant me such a life

(and indeed, He is doing it), and let those who prefer health, and riches,

and outward comforts, have the whole of them for me. His love is not

only incomparably sweet in itself, but it sweetens everything else to us.

Trying providences cease to be bitter; and death loses every particle of

repulsiveness. Were it not for His love, His very power, and wisdom,

and holiness would be too terrible for us; but the omnipotence of LOVE,

and the unerring wisdom of LOVE, and the perfect holiness of LOVE,

constitute a vision which is most delightful to a sanctified and trusting

heart. It sweetens this love to us to remember, that it is FREE. Nay, so

far from finding anything in us to attract it to us, it found everything in

us to repel it. His only reason for loving us, He finds in His own heart.

The Lord loved us, because the Lord loved us; and that is all the

explanation we can give of it (see Deut. vii, 7-8). Indeed, we no sooner

saw Him, than we hated both Him and His Father (John xv. 24). So

hated Him, that nothing would satisfy our hatred, but His death. And

yet, the murdered Son of God, yearned in love unutterable, over His

murderers. Even in accepting His murder from our hands (your hands

and mine among the rest), He was dying in very love to us, to save us.

How can we think calmly of a love like this? There is no love known, or

knowable, by us, which we can compare with the love of the Son of

God. Holy Scripture takes up every tender and loving relationship

among us, in order to shadow it forth; but all these are rather contrasts

than comparisons. It goes infinitely beyond them all. It can be

compared with nothing, save with the love of the eternal Father for the

Son. "As the Father hath loved Me, so have I loved you." Oh saint of

Jesus! believest thou this? If so, how unseemly to be disturbed about

trifles; how much more unseemly to squander the love which He prizes

so highly, upon the poor trash of this world! Thou art thy Saviour's

darling, weep no more! Let the joy of that, fill thy cup of joy to the

brim. He withholds nothing from me; He could not keep it. He gives

thee constantly; He gives thee His all; He gives thee HIMSELF. It is

more a delight for Him to give, than for thee to receive. Indeed, at this

moment, Jesus in heaven has nothing more than thou hast, who art still

on earth. In pure love, He shares everything with thee; His Sonship

(John i. 12); His Glory (John xvii. 22); His Throne (Rev. iii. 21); His

EVERYTHING (Rom. viii. 11-17). Perfect love, is unable to keep

anything back from its beloved. And thou art the object of His perfect

love. Many circumstances in our earthly lot, will suggest to us the

opposite of all this; but we must seek to walk by simple faith, and not at

all by the inferences which our own beast-like, devilish wisdom, prompts

us to draw from what we see ( James iii. 15). And he who looks with

the eye of faith on the providences of God towards him, shall see

nothing in them but PURE and PERFECT love.

THE OBJECTS AND CHANNELS OF DIVINE LOVE.

"We love, because He first loved us" (1 John iv. 19).

God made us for love, and to find our happiness in it. We have fallen

from this condition of love, down, down, down into a state of

selfishness, and in this selfishness, lies our sin and misery. For all that

selfishness does is sin; and all that selfishness can accomplish is misery.

But now in recovering us, God has redeemed us for a life of pure love.

He has regenerated us into a Divine nature (2 Pet. i. 4), which is LOVE,

and He has given us His own Spirit to strengthen us, to walk as Christ

walked, which is the Spirit of LOVE and of power (2 Tim. i. 7). Heaven

is what it is, because it is the home of pure love, and hell is hell, because

it is filled with ripened selfishness. For happiness can enter no heart,

except through the doorway of LOVE.

In connection with all this, I am greatly touched with the words in Eph.

v. 2-3. We are called on to IMITATE God, and this, because we are

beloved children, and as such, are partakers of His nature. We are

called on further, to reproduce in our lives, the wonderful life of Christ,

and this, in its manifestation of a love unto death. Oh, what a lofty

mission! God is LOVE, infinite unutterable LOVE; and while the

Christian is to consider himself the object of all this inconceivable

wealth of love, he is equally to look on himself as its anointed

instrument. God has set us, His beloved ones, down in the midst of

sinful, miserable men and women, who are sinful and miserable, because

they know not, believe not, realize not the love of God. And God has

set us down among them, that we might be both witnesses to them of

His love, and also its willing, its self-sacrificing organs. God wants us to

pour out on them that love of His, through our hearts and hands, and

lips and eyes. What a calling is this for dust and ashes like us! We are

set apart and anointed, as really as Jesus was, though on a lower level, to

manifest the holy love of God to sinful men; and to do this so clearly,

that, though they may have no eyes that can see God, or His love, they

may be able to catch a faint glimpse of it, by seeing in us and in our lives

and ways, a Christ-like LOVE.

CHRIST MUST BE EVERYTHING.

"Whom have I in heaven but Thee" (Ps. lxxiii. 25)

I feel that the one great lesson that God has been teaching me, through

the sins and sorrows of my whole life is this; that Jesus must be

EVERYTHING to me. I have been slow, slow to believe it, but He has

patiently continued His precious lessons, and now I feel that the small

measure in which I have been enabled to receive His teaching, is worth

more to me than a million of worlds. No thought is so constantly in my

mind, and I say to myself, hundreds, yea thousands of times, "Oh, my

soul, see that thou make JESUS CHRIST THY EVERYTHING."

God has given to us the matchless gift of His Beloved Son. Let us

heartily receive the gift, and use it for the end for which God gives it;

that is, let Christ be EVERYTHING. We need a whole Christ; but we

need nothing else whatever!

In saying, "Let Jesus Christ be

EVERYTHING," I am using the word in its widest possible meaning. It

is not enough that Christ be something to us. He is that to everybody.

Nor is it enough that He be much, or VERY MUCH; or, that He be the

CHIEF good to us, among a number of good things. He must be OUR

EVERYTHING. The Blessed Lord has condescended too much (Oh how

much!) for our sakes, but there is one thing He will never condescend

to, and that is, that we place Him as one, among a number of objects of

our delight, No, though we make Him the chief object. He will never

stoop to that. He who does not for his sake, forsake ALL else, cannot

be His disciple (Luke xiv. 33). But when by the illumination of the

Holy Spirit, a soul has really tasted of His love, and seen the loveliness

of Jesus, his ravished heart shall be constrained to cry out---"Whom have

I in heaven but Thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire beside

Thee (Ps. lxxiii. 25). And what is this, but just to say in other

words---"Oh, my Blessed Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me my

EVERYTHING."

Yes, God has given to us, out of His free love, the very Christ HIMSELF,

the Christ in whom all the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth (Col. ii. 9).

It is very, very little, if we add, that this unspeakable gift of Christ to us,

includes in it the same "All things" which He had already given to Jesus;

for in giving His Son to us, He gives us ALL that Jesus is, and all that

Jesus has.

You will not mistake my meaning, if I venture to say, that in giving us

Christ, God has, as it were, put it out of His power to give us anything

additional. For, though Eternity shall be filled up with the endless

givings of God to His redeemed children, these ceaseless givings will not

be so much fresh gifts, but the opening up in detail of the infinite and

all-comprehensive gift, He has already given to us in Christ, in which

gift is "All the fulness of God" (Eph. iii. 19).

I am overwhelmed at the thought of this. It fills me with awe and joy.

It lifts me to the highest; it sinks me down to the lowest; and it calls me

into vigorous exercise of every faculty, every emotion, and every

affection of which I am capable. May our hearts be kept full of the

humble joy which the appropriating faith of this infinite gift is sure to

bring, and to live hour by hour, as those who have need of nothing,

desire nothing, delight in nothing, but JESUS ONLY. And this we do,

because Christ has now become our EVERYTHING.

A man may profess what he pleases, and may believe all the orthodox

doctrines, but if Jesus Christ is not EVERYTHING to Him, then He is

nothing to him at all. Scripture is very clear about this, but few seem to

know anything about it.

God wants to have our hearts, and so does Satan. Both are bidders for

them. The grand object of attraction with which God seeks to draw to

Himself, is Christ. Satan's great attraction is the WORLD. But there is

this difference between the two---while Satan will be quite content that

we have Christ in part, if only we love the world too in part. God

insists that we give the whole heart to Christ, else none of it will be

accepted. He cannot endure a divided heart. His name is JEALOUS,

for He is "The jealous God" (Exod. xxxiv. 14). He that is the world's

friend, makes himself God's enemy (James iv. 4); and wherever love of

the world is cherished, there is no love of the Father (1 John ii. 15-16).

These are searching words, but they are the words of God, and by them,

we shall all be judged.

GRACE AND ITS ABUSE.

"

Turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness"

Jude 4).

(

A word or two of Andrew Fuller's, read some forty years ago, burnt

itself into my very soul, and has given a colouring to my entire life ever

since. It was this---"God's free grace through Christ, is the sinner's only

hope, but the ABUSE OF THIS FREE GRACE, is the professing Christian's

GREATEST DANGER."

Yes, grace is free; this is a most glorious truth. But then we must not

mistake wherein its freeness consists. It is perfectly free in the sense

that it is given at every stage of it, without any merit, or deservingness

whatever, of any kind on the part of the receiver. It is for any sinner

just now, and just as he is. But it is not free in the sense that though it

be readily given, it can be easily taken, and used for our fleshly, worldly,

wicked hearts to make their own use of it. He who fancies the freeness

of Divine Grace to be such as exempts him from the need of diligence,

watchfulness, and continuous prayer, is soundly asleep in "The Devil's

Cradle."

It is just here where so many are deceived. The Professing Church (as

it seems to me) swarms with completely self-deluded professors. The

perfect ease with which almost everybody takes for granted his own

spiritual well-being, is, I think, one of the most astounding features of

our time.

SONSHIP AND ITS PRIVILEGES.

"Now we are the sons of God" (1 John iii. 2).

"God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts" (Gal. iv. 6).

Last night, I had a wakeful night, with some sickness; but not enough to

hinder a most delightful meditation. Generally at such seasons, my

mind is wonderfully clear, and during these past six years, I have had in

nights of pain and sleeplessness, the sweetest seasons I have ever

enjoyed in life. "Thou wilt light my candle; the Lord my God will

enlighten my darkness" (Psa. xviii. 28).

I was occupied during the night with Eph. v. 1, and most humbling,

stimulating, and consolatory were the holy words made to me. My

numbed brain will not permit me to do more than try to set before you

the mere bones and crusts, of what was truly a feast of fat things to

myself. We have in the verse a condensed summary as it were, of the

believer's privileges. He is a beloved child of God. And we have also

a condensed summary of his entire duties; He is to imitate his Father.

The true believer is actually a child of God, and every blessing

conceivable, or possible, is summed up in this one verse (John i. 12).

In bestowing upon us this matchless grace of sonship, God has given us

more than He has given to an angel, to every angel, to ALL the angel

host in heaven, and ALL creatures in all worlds, though the immense

aggregate of the bounties to them ALL, were gathered into a single heap.

He has given us so much, that no more remains for Him to give, or for

us to receive. For though in Eternity, the God of love shall go on

forever adding fresh glories to the glorified saints, yet these are not

additions properly speaking, to the unspeakable gift of sonship, they are

only the fuller, and more detailed expressions of it. The gift of Christ

contains in it "all the fulness of God" (Col. ii. 9; Eph. iii. 19). Upon no

angel has God bestowed such a gift; for to which of the angels said He

at any time, "Thou art My Son" (Heb. i. 5). And our sonship arises, not

from the fact that our Redeemer is Himself the only begotten Son---the

Firstborn from the dead---and that through redemption, we are vitally,

inseparably, and eternally one with Him. How can we be other than

sons, when we are brought into the closest union with the Son of God?

Angels are not so made one with the Son, and therefore, are not sons as

we are.

In Christ, the believer is as really a son of God, as Jesus Himself is,

although on different grounds. It is far more than mere adoption, the

bestowal of certain privileges, it is the communication of a DIVINE

NATURE (2 Peter i. 4). It is an actual NEW CREATION (2 Cor. v. 17).

We are God's very children, and we are meant, and fitted to imitate the

ways of God our Father. Hence, because we are children, God has sent

His Spirit into our hearts, to dwell abidingly in us (Gal. iv. 7), and to

enable us ALWAYS to think, and feel, and speak, and act, as befits our

relationship to Him. And this sonship is a present fact, not a something

to be waited for, till we reach another world---"Now we are the sons of

God" (1 John iii. 2). We are unspeakably nearer to God in our

regeneration, than we are to our parents in nature. We are nearer to

Christ in regeneration, than Mary was to Him in nature (Matt. xii. 50).

Yea, Mary was nearer to Him as a believer, than she was as His mother.

And in regeneration, every saint is more closely connected with every

other saint, than with earthly father, mother, husband, wife, or child.

Do you believe all this? Alas, very few do! and who among us is

walking accordingly?

SONSHIP, AND ITS DUTY.

"Be ye therefore imitators of God, as beloved children" (Eph. v. 1)

In this verse, we have a summary of all our duty. We have not a

multitude of things to distract our attention; we have only one. As

beloved children, we are to imitate in every act of life, our Heavenly

Father. What a pattern we are set to copy! Not our own past; not the

conventional style of living prevalent around us, not even the lives of the

holy, but we are to IMITATE God, and our copy is to be worthy of the

Divine pattern (1 Thess. ii. 12). We are to be perfect as our Father is

(Matt. v. 48). Who would dare to hint such things, if God Himself had

not spoken them? To enable us to live on such a pitch, the Holy Spirit

has been given to every child of God, and every one of God's children is

to make use of the Holy Spirit's help for this end (see 1 John iii. 3). The

proverb says, "Noblesse` oblige. "What manner of spirit should ours

ever be?

Let us cast the briefest glance at the connection between the two things

indicated by the word, "AS." "Be ye imitators of God AS beloved

children." The imitation is to come out of the sonship, and the sonship

is to secure the imitation. The two are inseparable, and where one is

not present, equally absent is the other. Having received a nature akin

to God, the saint, by the necessity of his new nature, walks accordingly.

The imitation specially meant is love (see verse 2), love carried to its

uttermost limits. God Himself is Love, and we are to imitate Him in

our love (Matt. v. 44-48; 1 John iv. 11). And if we are to love men, so as

to be ready to die for them, if called to it (1 John iii. 16), as Jesus did,

much more must our hearts be filled to the brim with the holy love of

God. He wants our service; He delights in it; but He will have us serve

Him, not in the spirit of servants---the angels so serve (Heb. 1. 14)---but

in the spirit of tenderly-beloved children. And so, while the Old

Testament speaks of "the sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty" (2

Cor. vi. 18), and no service approaches in its sweetness, either to giver or

receiver, the devoted service of a darling child. It is an exquisite joy to

the other to whom it is rendered. A mere menial's service rendered for

the sake of its hire, is a paltry thing compared with this. Sonship, when

realized by a vigorous faith, always secures this service. The child

cannot but imitate in measure the Father-God. He has received a new

nature, which is a Divine nature, and a man's life is of necessity, shaped

by his nature. I am not forgetting the immense hindrance which the

saint experiences through his natural depravity, but in so far as he walks

in the Spirit, he shall be enabled to overcome this (Gal. v. 16-17; 2 Cor.

xii. 9-10). The very same things which the Divine Spirit has written on

the inspired page, as precepts, He has written also in the regenerated

soul as instincts---instincts which it is so delightful to yield to, and so

distressing to resist. I feel the subject is a most solemn and also a most

delightful one, but I have scarcely touched it. May your own prayerful

and devout meditation upon it, make it very helpful to you.

THE FATHER'S CHASTENING ROD.

"Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth" (Heb. xii. 6).

Those who have the most experience of the Fatherly rod, and who have

been enabled to profit by it, will, I think, be found to be least afraid of

it. For them, the prospect of affliction has no terrors. They cannot tell

what may be awaiting them in heaven (1 Cor. ii. 9), but they know that

the sweetest spot they have ever been in on earth, has been the heart of

"the fiery furnace," kindled to seven-fold heat, when they had the seen

and felt presence of the Son of God walking beside them in it. Such

seasons can never be forgotten, scarcely even in eternity. Oh, may they

be to you, and to me, a daily experience. It is only the sufferers bands

that are burned; not the sufferer himself. For him, not a hair of his

head is singed, nor is there even the smell of fire upon him. Yes, this

miracle of matter, is repeated daily among ourselves; only on a far

grander scale. Suffering, however severe, never diminishes by one

grain-weight, the true happiness of any soul; that is when the sufferer

accepts it in faith, and love, and unreserved resignation. It purifies the

happiness, and increases it; but, in no case does it abridge it. I will take

on me to affirm, that if an angel were sent, this day, to search the whole

world for the happiest man in it, the man whose heart should be most

filled with the joys of heaven, and his lips the warmest in the praises of

his God, I will venture to say, that this blessed man would be found

among the most heavily-afflicted. We need never bewail, then, the loss

of our earthly Eden. Still less, may we try to gather a few sticks and

stones from the ruin, and to build up some poor little Eden for

ourselves. This is precisely what the highest wisdom of the natural man

sets him on doing. No! let our lost Eden go; we can afford to part with

it. The man or woman, who through grace, has been made eternally

one with the Son of God, is infinitely better off, than he could be by the

possession of a million Edens. One with Christ, and this forever! How

easily the wonderful words are uttered! But who can tell the lengths

and breadths, the depths and heights, which they contain. In Him is "all

the FULNESS OF THE GODHEAD BODILY," and in Him it is all brought

within reach of the appropriating hand of faith. And as an "Earnest"---a

stipulating guarantee, that all the exceeding great and precious promises

shall be fulfilled to the last jot and tittle,---we are already put into

possession of the indwelling Holy Spirit. If God Himself be actually

our Father (and we must be quite clear on this point), what follows?

Why, these two things follow, at the very least; first, He shall be sure to

take care of us, and to keep us, and to do for us, in every case, the

absolute best thing possible; seeing He is such a being as He is; and

seeing that He has assumed towards us, the relationship of Father, is it

conceivable that such a Father could neglect His child? How monstrous

then, how wicked, to fear it! Secondly, having such a Father, how

should we conduct ourselves towards Him? What love, what confident

trust, what obedience, what resignation? And when we fail so sadly in

this respect as we do, what lowly confession, what penitential sorrow,

and, most of all, what earnest prayer for help to enable us to live in the

future as becomes the children of such a Father. And there is nothing

so sure, as that every prayer shall be granted.

HOW THE LORD TEACHES HIS PEOPLE.

"I will instruct thee and teach thee" (Ps. xxxii. 8).

What a blessed thing it is to have God to teach us; and this He delights

to do, to every teachable soul (Psa. xxv. 8-9). Christ, as Redeemer,

executes three offices. He is our only Prophet, or Teacher; our only

Priest, and our only King. Now, while we are all jealous of giving Him

His full honour as Priest, I fear that most of us are very sadly careless

about His equally indispensable offices of Teacher and Lord. We are

no more permitted to accept any fellow-creature to be our teacher, than

we are permitted to resort to a human priest, that he may offer an

atonement for our sin. Jesus is the one and only Teacher, whom we

must recognize, and He teaches by HIS WORD and SPIRIT. He may,

indeed, use our fellow-believers to help our ignorance; but, in such cases,

we must be careful to discern, that it is He who teaches through them.

And we must cautiously try their words by the test-standard of His

Word, and also by His Spirit enlightening our minds. I am sorry to

think, that there is very little of this in the churches, but that men and

women are sitting at the feet of human teachers, and not recognizing

that only One is their Master, even Christ (Matt. xxiii. 8, 10).

And all this knowledge which we get from one another, or which we

gather from our own study, even of the Bible, has only one effect; it

puffs up the soul (1 Cor. viii. 1). Jesus alone can teach us savingly and

to profit, and He delights to do it. Let our cry be as in Psalm cxix.---

"Teach me Thy statutes." He does not set before us mere words, or

doctrines (this is all that man can do), but He sets before us the

supernatural realities of the spiritual world; and along with this, He

opens our sealed eyes to see them. This knowledge always deeply

humbles. Oh, may the Lord grant us much of this teaching, whatever

the cost.

And for this kind of teaching, we need the Word of God, but we need

equally the Holy Spirit in the heart. Just as the prophet or the apostle,

would have been unable to write these Divinely-quickening words, save

by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit of God so I, who now read them,

am equally incapable of receiving any benefit at all from these inspired

words, unless I read them by the help of the same Spirit of God.

OUR EDUCATION FOR ETERNITY.

"I am the Lord thy God which teacheth thee to profit"

(

Isaiah xlviii. 17).

We are getting nearer and nearer to the end of earthly life. We are like

railway travelers waiting on the platform, and although the train may

not be quite in sight, the hour marked on the time-table is fully come.

It were folly then for us to count on any future here. And why should we

wish it?

We are still in God's school, receiving the education which is to fit us for

eternity; and that education is indispensable. To state it in a word, it is

that we may be trained to walk by faith and not by sight. Of course our

task is very hard, and we feel it to be so. And so does the child who

went to school a week ago, find his lessons very hard. But we smile at

him when he tells us about the heaviness of his burden, and how he

would like to get rid of it. We shall someday smile at ourselves.

There are dark clouds above us, very dark sometimes, and very

threatening, and our Divine Teacher would train us to beautify the sky,

with the rainbow of faith and hope, and how could we have a bright

rainbow without a black cloud for its background? Only let us supply

the needed faith and hope, then the blacker the cloud, the brighter the

rainbow shall be. And then there are snares among our feet, snares as

thickly planted as the stubble in a newly-reaped corn-field. By these

our God would train us to watchfulness and prayer, to walk

circumspectly, and to wean us from our mischievous trust in ourselves,

or our fellows, or in anyone but Himself. In a world like ours, unless

we walk by faith, recognizing the presence of God, we shall be unhappy

enough, but if we walk WITH God, leaning on Him, we shall be happy

as our faith is strong.

I firmly believe that the great value of present life to any of us is, its

furnishing the suitable, the indispensable education for eternity. This

secured, a man has got out of life all that God ever puts into it, and this

lost life is utterly lost. It is not so looked at in the world, where

mammon is the actual God, and where time is everything and eternity is

nothing. Nay, it is not so looked at in the church, where a man's

DOING is regarded as of much greater importance than his BEING.

But in God's estimate, the BEING is the main point, the DOING is

nothing, except as an outcome of the being. So insignificant is the

amount of work done, that I believe the smallest work of the smallest

worker can scarcely be less than the greatest works of the most brilliant

and successful labourer. This is not thought of any more than man

would count the two mites of the poor widow, a richer gift than the

golden donations of the wealthy. The great thing which God is aiming

at is, the training of the worker, and the cultivation in him of a

Christ-like spirit, in which he should come to do his whole life-work.

This is important beyond all conception. For that spirit shall be carried

into a service which shall have Eternity for its term, and Infinity for its

sphere. And this Christ-like spirit can be just as successfully cultivated

amid any one set of circumstances, as amid any other. This is our

Father's grand object in all His dealings with us. Are we seeking to

have His will done in us perfectly, or, like the many, are we looking on

the trifles as everything, and on this the everything, as nothing? How

solemn is life, when we look at it in the light of the near presence of

God! How clearly is it seen there, that we have ONE errand here; ONE

and no other. Life is a grand and beautiful thing, but it is so only when

it is lived TO GOD. When a life is not lived to God, however admired

its circumstances may be by men,—all whose judgments are false (Luke

xvi. 15),—it is not grand but despicable: it is not beautiful but hideous.

That life alone is of any account in heaven, which has Christ as its

object, and the will of God as its rule.

THE LORD’S CARE OF HIS PEOPLE.

"Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you." (1 Pet. v. 7).

What a perfect rest do we get, when on coming to the Lord Jesus, we

take His yoke upon us; the yoke which He Himself ever wore, and

which He now lovingly imposes upon all His people. O, it is an easy

yoke and a light burden. Love joyfully accepts what INFINITE LOVE

imposes. We then are satisfied in knowing that every interest of ours is

unspeakably precious to Him; that every hair is counted, every tear put

into His bottle, and that every sigh is noted. Nothing can harm those

whom He keeps as the apple of His eye. Our one and only danger is,

that we begin to plan for ourselves, and thus virtually take ourselves out

of His hands. He will bring us at whatever cost of suffering to us, to

commit ourselves ABSOLUTELY to His loving and perfectly trusted

hands.

GOD’S POEM.

"We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus" (Eph. ii. 10).

I have been often positively thrilled, with musings suggested by a word

in the Greek of Eph. ii. 10. Literally rendered, the apostle's statement

is, "For we are His Poem," and the word opens up to me a whole world

of delightful and profitable thought. John Milton once wrote, "He who

would not be frustrate of his hope, to write well hereafter of laudable

things, should himself to be a true poem." This seems to me to be a

grand thought, and a true one. But how many miles it falls short of the

apostle's word here. Think of oneself, and one's life, not only as being

a grand poem, but as being "God's Poem." If there be any work of

man's, in which beyond others, true genius is needed, and in the

execution of which that genius is exercised up to its utmost capability, it

is in the construction of some noble poem. And in this connection, just

think of being "God's poem." For what really is a poem? A

masterpiece of poetical genius? It consists of the selected grandest

thoughts that the most gifted man can think, and these embodied and

given forth, in words the sweetest, sublimest, and most affecting that

man can utter. And to be "God's Poem" is to be the expression of the

grand and worthy thoughts of God, enunciated, not in suitable words

only, but in a vestment which sets the thoughts forth, far more

impressively than any words could do; even in the acts of a life, which is

worthy to be ascribed to God, as the Thinker and the Doer (Col. i. 10;

1

Thess. ii. 12). And this divine poem may be, should be, must be, your

daily LIFE and mine, if we are walking as Christians. It overwhelms one

with a variety of feelings, which it is profitable to cherish, when one

thinks of it. Could one aim at a nobler object, at any object a millionth

part so noble, as to have one's life a divine poem? All that I have been

saying is not, in the very smallest degree true of ant natural life, however

amiable, useful, or religious that life might have been. Such a life, often

enthusiastically admired by men, (men rarely admire any other; they

crown all the "poems" of God with thorns), but it is not a poem of God.

The man himself is the author of it; he, and the Devil between them.

And this sweeping charge is quite as true of the very loveliest life lived

on natural principles, as of the most loathsome. They that are in the

flesh---in the unregenerated, fallen nature, however amiable and

religious, "cannot please God" (Rom. viii. 8). Nothing human pleases

Him, or is accepted by Him, that is not a genuine Divine Poem; in other

words, that is not either Christ's work for us, or Christ's work in us.

It is also a very striking word which is applied to the regenerated man in

Eph. ii. 10. He is "created in Christ Jesus." "Created,"---that is called

out of nothing previously existing. As human beings, we are God's

creatures by the first creation; though we have ruined His originally

lovely workmanship. But of all creatures in the universe, I suppose the

true Christian to be emphatically, and pre-eminently, a creation of God,

so much so, that his actual living is nothing else than a poem of God,

that is, so far as it is Christian living. What less, what else than this, is

taught us in Gal. ii. 20? This verse has been to me, for thirty years, the

key-note of the Bible.

The old English name for a poet was a "Makker," and there is nothing

which man makes at all, that is so entirely his very own, as a genuine

poem. The maker of other articles, merely takes up previously existing

materials, and works them into other shapes, but the genuine poem is

the work of the poet alone. He created His material as well as gave it

its beautiful shape, and so with a true Christian life, to the fullest stretch

of the meaning of the word, it is "God's Poem." The source of

everything in a saint, as a saint, is divine grace (see Eph. ii. 8). This

grace makes us, fits us for holy working, pours itself into us, and

operates through us, our faith being the channel by which it enters and

through which it works. Nay, so completely are we, in the new life,

dependent creatures, that the very faith which receives the divine grace,

is itself a mere grace; it is not from ourselves, it is of God. It is God

who prepares the works for the worker (Eph. ii. 10), and the worker for

the works; and He prepares also the most fitting sphere, in which the

prepared worker may execute the prepared works. In all respects, the

"man of God" is together with his Christ-like life, nothing less than a

divine poem. How can such a life, truly lived in the Spirit, fail to be

graciously accepted by God, since not the man, but Christ through the

man, is the actual author of it (Gal. ii. 20). Let me add, that no other

works whatever, however brilliant and admired they may seem to be,

shall pass the scrutiny of that day, when it shall be seen for the first time

to be believed, that what is "highly esteemed among men" is always

"

ABOMINATION in the sight of God" (Luke xvi. 15). Hence we are

solemnly reminded that "MANY" of the grand workers, shall be dealt

with as working iniquity on a great scale (Matt. vii. 22-23), in that day.

CRUCIFIED WITH CHRIST.

"If we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him"

(

Rom. vi. 8).

In order to have our present life here on earth, a life which shall in

reality be Christ living in us, it is needful for us to remember, that one of

the main essentials is, for us to know what it is to be crucified with Him.

We cannot possibly know what it is to live with Him, or have Him

actually living in us, unless we first learn what it is to die with Him. We

cannot possibly reach the last half of Gal. ii. 20, but through the first

half, "I have ben crucified with Christ."

Very notable are the almost universally unknown words of

2

"

Tim. ii. 11-13, which are just a summary of half of the New Testament.

It is a faithful saying, that if we be dead with Christ, we shall also live

with him. If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him. If we deny Him

by refusing to suffer and to die with Him), He will also deny us." And

(

this is just what He Himself had said previously---"He that taketh not his

cross, and followeth after Me, is not worthy of Me" (Matt. x. 38).

And what is this cross of ours, which we must each take up? We have

long ago perverted the word, and have emptied it of all meaning, when

we read it in the Word of God. We thoughtlessly call one and every

trouble A CROSS, and speak of a Christian's many crosses. No, no;

there are not many crosses; there is only ONE; the dread, appalling,

hated cross, on which the sufferer is put to uttermost shame, agony and

death.

Jesus was "The Man of Sorrows." He endured many sorrows, and

many temptations, but we never speak of His many Crosses. No; we

reserve the word for the one awful, unique experience of extremest

suffering, the near approach of which wrung from Him the bloody sweat

of unequalled horror. He made little of His ordinary sufferings; He

never made little of His cross. And though there may be to any of His

people, any amount of suffering, there is NEVER more than ONE Cross.

But there is ALWAYS one. And that one Cross involves a dreadful and

dreaded experience; that is, dreadful to, and dreaded by the natural

mind. It is in the sufferers case, the execution of God's curse for sin,

and it brings about the final end of the man, as a part of the fallen and

utterly ruined old creation.

Dead with Christ, Christ enters into the man and lives in him, as

Gal. ii. 20, and 2 Cor. iv. 10-11 clearly show. And it is the dread, the

horror of being CRUCIFIED WITH CHRIST, that deters all but the elect

few from a genuine discipleship. All that the natural man hath, will he

give for this life of self (Job ii. 4); self-will, self-pleasing, self-satisfaction,

and self-seeking. But the law is inflexible; "He that loveth his life shall

lose it" (John xii. 25). Holy, blessed, awful, sorrowful, yet delightful

Cross! The only gateway to life in Christ. The sight of it is intolerable

to the natural man, therefore he draws up with some one of the many

gospels which have no Cross in them.

CHRIST LIVETH IN ME.

"Not I, but Christ liveth in me" (Gal. ii. 20).

Our redeemed lips are no longer our own, they are Christ's lips

1 Cor. vi. 19). What manner of holy speech befits them now? Our

(

hands are not now our hands, they are Christ's hands. Shall we dare

to handle with them, or to work with them, what is unworthy of Him?

Our heads, our hearts are not ours at all, they belong exclusively to the

Lord. Shall we think any thought which he would abhor, or love any

object which He could not love? No, let us seek to render unto God,

the things which are God's, and this includes all that we are, and all that

we have. Our time, our purse, our lives, our influence, our everything

all belong to Christ. They no more belong to us, to use them for our

own pleasing, than the wealth of the King of Siam belongs to us. And

He has sent His Holy Spirit to dwell in every true believer for two ends;

first, to enable us to consecrate ourselves to Him in this whole-hearted

way (Rom. xii. 1); and second, to take actual possession for Himself of

what we have surrendered to Him, that He may control all our

movements, our affections, enlighten our minds, direct our conduct, and

in one word, enable us to live, that it shall not be we who live, but

Christ who liveth in us (Gal. ii. 20). This wonderful verse (Gal. ii. 20),

gives us a remarkably clear revelation of what a Christian's life is meant

really to be. It was Paul's life, and yet it was not Paul's; it was Christ's.

Men saw and heard Paul only; but the unseen Actor who lived and

spoke through Paul was Christ. All that Paul did, it was Himself that

did it, and yet it was not himself. "I live, yet not I, but CHRIST liveth in

me." The two lives—Paul's and Christ's—were not two, but one. They

were not united so that certain acts were Paul's, and certain other acts

were Christ's, but every act was Paul's act, yet it was also Christ's. Paul

dearly loved the saints of God, but it was with the love of Christ

(Phil. i. 8)—for Paul had given himself up to Christ as His redeemed

possession, and Christ had taken possession of Paul—soul and

body,—His will, His mind, and His affection, and so though the bodily

organs, and the mental faculties were Paul's, the Spirit which dwelt

within, and moved everything, was not Paul's natural spirit, but Christ.

The old Paul was dead, and now, "to me to live is CHRIST" (Phil. i. 21).

But they alone can understand all this, who have experience in it. It

was indeed Paul's eyes which wept, as he pled with sinners, it was not

the eyes of Christ—the eyes which had once wept at the grave of

Lazarus—but the grief and love which wrung these tears from Paul,

were not the outcome of Paul's natural heart, they were wrought in him

by the Spirit of the indwelling Christ. And the eloquent tongue which

so pled with men, and the knees which were so often bent in prayer for

men, were not the tongue, or the knees of Jesus, they were those of Paul,

but the spirit which moved them was not Paul's own old self, it was the

indwelling Christ. In one sense, it is the same Paul, in another, it is a

different Paul altogether. Once everything that he did was done by his

carnal self, in self-will, in self-righteousness, in self-pleasing, but all that

is now past and done. The old Paul is dead and buried, and the man

that is now in his place has the body and soul of Paul, but these are

dwelt in, and moved wholly by the CHRIST who now dwells within him.

And as it was with Paul, so is it also with all the true children of God.

In how far can we truly say it is so with us?

IMMANUEL----GOD WITH US.

"That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith" (Eph. iii. 17).

I have just been reading Matthew i., and musing on the three names

given there to the son of Mary. He is Christ; He is Jesus; He is

Immanuel. He is "Christ," because anointed for His office by the

Father; "Jesus," because that office was to save from sin; and

"Immanuel," because in executing this office of Anointed Saviour from

sin, He is Himself God beside us. Nay, we cannot be saved otherwise

than by His becoming "God with us." or rather, within us, as we have it

in Gal. ii. 20---"Christ liveth in me." In this aspect of His salvation

work, He comes nearer to us, and abides closer with us, than the soul is

to the body it inhabits. This surely is the very climax of Divine grace to

ruined man; the highest height to which the love of God rises in His

dealings with us, while we are still on earth. We often overlook all this,

by our exclusive dwelling on the precious atoning death of Jesus;

forgetting that that death, was only a means towards a higher and more

glorious end than even itself; which end is, that Jesus might be to us our

Immanuel; might be Christ in us, "The hope of glory" (compare John

xii. 23). And in this respect, our individual experiences are in precise

proportion to our faith. "Be it unto thee according to thy faith." I

don't mean by faith, the mere intellectual belief of certain orthodox

doctrines. If that be all, there is no true faith at all. By faith, I mean

the direct exercise of the soul on Christ Himself. The mind, divinely

enlightened, discerns the glories and loveliness of Christ; the heart, won

by the astonishing vision, cleaves to Him in love; and the will, freely

chooses to close with His invitation, and to receive Him as the Jesus, the

Christ, and the Immanuel. And walking by this faith, this direct

unshrinking, single-hearted trust in God, the path is one of perfect

peace, and perfect safety. Of peace, for all fleshly fears and burdens are

annihilated. Of safety, for God's faithfulness never fails to respond to

the faith of His trusting child (Psa. lxxxiv. 12).

There is a practical mistake made by many, which I think frequently

cripples the believer, and which it were well to guard against.

Conscious that his faith is feeble, (every true believer is this), he feels as

if the imperfection of his faith abridged his right to look on God, as

being, in Christ Jesus fully and without any reserve, his Father. He

fears that his feebleness of faith diminishes his title to appropriate, and

to enjoy all the exceeding riches of Divine grace, laid open to all in

Christ. Now, this I think is an injurious mistake. Let it be clearly

understood, that faith gives no title whatever to any spiritual blessing.

Our sole and only title to anything in the new life, lies in the free gift of

it to us, by God in Christ Jesus. What faith does, is to accept the gift,

and to enter into the enjoyment of the grace given. But the title to do

this, is prior to any faith, and is quite independent of any special degree

of faith. Now, what is it that God has freely given to us? That is, what

is it that we have already a title to accept, and to enjoy by God's free gift

to us---a title on which faith founds, and which exists prior to the action

that faith takes on it? It is CHRIST, with all His fulness, which fulness

is "the fulness of God" (Col. ii. 9; Eph. iii. 19). Everything in the new

life is ours already, so far as title to it goes, and this equally, whether we

believe strongly or feebly; or even whether we do not believe at all.

The feeblest believer in Christ on earth, has the same title to everything

that John, or Paul, or the strongest believer that ever lived, can have.

Faith does not make the title; it is the free gift of God to all; and faith

acting on it, joyfully finds itself in the unhindered possession of as much

of the immense gift as it is able to appropriate. For the law of the

kingdom is this; "Be it unto thee according to thy faith." Little faith

takes but little, and enjoys little; while strong, healthy faith, the faith

that glorifies God, and girds the soul with superhuman strength, opens

the mouth wide, and even wider; and God keeps it filled (Psa. lxxxi. 10).

And Oh, we need this actual indwelling of Christ, as our Immanuel, for

we are called to service which shall otherwise be far above us. The life

of a faithful Christian, everywhere, and always, must needs be a martyr-

life. We may not be called to end our days in the flames, or on the

gibbet; but we are each called to spend our days in martyr-living, and we

have been anointed with the Spirit of Jesus, to fit us for it. Such a life,

nature shrinks from; and most avoid it by sheer unfaithfulness. But this

is the height of folly and sin. Only they who suffer with Christ can

reign with Him; only they who die with Him, shall also live with Him

(2 Tim. ii. 11-12). We can hardly be living such a life without knowing

very well that we are doing so; for this martyr-living needs fully more of

the spirit of Christ-like self-denial, than martyr-dying does. But Christ

never fails to make His grave sufficient to perfect His strength in our

weakness, and, after all, this very life, the true martyr-life is the blessed

life. Christ never manifests Himself, as He does to those who hang

with Him upon the Cross, who have forsaken their all, that He may be

everything to them. Oh may you and I, dear friend, know this more

and more, in the blessed experience of it, and may He make our few

remaining days here our best, because spent most closely with Him.

Then it shall be no grief to us to go when our Father calls. Let us aim

at living in that perfect preparedness of spirit, so that when the Lord

cometh and knocketh, we may open to Him immediately. Nay, let us

more than aim at it, let us SECURE it. No other style of living is worth

counting life. It is the unpreparedness of spirit, the unfinished spiritual

work left undone, which plants the believer's dying pillow oftimes with

thorns. But what a happy life, when the habitual frame of spirit is---"I

have had the joy of my Father's presence with me all this day on earth.

Perhaps I may be beside Him in heaven to-morrow."

HOLY LIVING.

"What manner of persons ought ye to be, in all holy living and godliness"

(

2 Peter iii. 11).

I am greatly grieved at the indifference which prevails in the church in

regard to the matter of holy living. Indeed, it is almost my only grief,

but it is a very heavy burden to me. We have all been redeemed; we

are all regenerated for holiness. Nothing is so pressed on us in the New

Testament as holiness, and the frequency and urgency of the appeals

show us how God's hearth is set on the holiness of His children, while

they equally show us how averse we are to being holy. Seeing we need

such continual incitement; I feel sure of a few things, as I feel sure of

this, that the common degrees of faith and of holiness, will save nobody.

Most seem to be quite satisfied with them, but a frightful awakening

awaits them soon. The faith commonly rested in, is not faith; and the

holiness that satisfies most, is not holiness at all, but miserable imitations

which suffice to deceive the self-deceived (Jer. xvii. 9), but could never

delude any soul which is truly under Divine teaching.

In all ages, the great majority have been more or less religious, but only

a few have been holy; and it is those few holy ones who alone are the

saved. If any man be truly a child of God, he is now made a partaker of

his Heavenly Father's very nature. That nature is Divine (2 Pet. i. 4),

and it is incapable of sinning (1 John iii. 9). The very Christ Himself

lives in him (Gal. ii. 20), and not only constrains to, but strengthens him

for holy living. Yet still, with all this, I have a strong conviction that

perfect holiness is unattainable here. I frequently desire a something

infinitely better, than that we should ever be able to dream that we have

attained it. To give you my reasons for this conviction is impossible, for

I am writing only a short letter, and not a volume; and so I can merely

glance at a few thoughts, as they occur to my mind.

When we speak of Sin, Holiness, and Perfection, our words have no

meaning, except as referring to a certain standard, whereby we judge.

Whatever fails to come up to that standard is sin; whatever comes up to

it is holy; and whatever perfectly agrees with the standard is perfect

holiness. Now we must see, that the standard by which we judge

ourselves is everything, and I feel convinced that no man who tries

himself by God's standard, ever judges himself to be perfectly holy.

And what standard dare we use, except God's, if we would not deceive

ourselves.

If any one were to go through the town, and get into the secrets of every

heart, it would be found that (except a wonderfully small minority), the

whole were pretty well satisfied with their spiritual condition. From the

drunken thrasher of his wife, up, up, UP to the most zealous religionist,

each will be found on good terms with himself. Only a few will be

found who feel very differently. To say that these "loathe" themselves,

and "abhor" themselves, and are stricken dumb, when they look at

themselves in the light of God's forgiving love, would be to say too little.

Their feelings of utter self-abhorrence go far beyond the power of even

divine words to express, inasmuch as divine realities are inexpressible.

In this small company whose hearts have been both sorely broken and

also sweetly healed, may my soul be found.

Now, how comes it, that those few lowly souls, while exulting in the free

grace of God, to save sinners, can find nothing whatever in themselves,

which gives them any comfort, and this, while all the others---especially

the very religious---are so satisfied with themselves? It is simple these

lowly ones, try themselves by God's standard; while all the rest try

themselves by one or other of the ten thousand human standards which

abound. In regard to our finding about ourselves, all depends on this.

And what is this lofty, Divine standard, which humbles in the dust

everyone who honestly applies it, constraining him to say with Paul---not,

"I am one of the perfectly holy"---but I am "the chief of sinners"

(1 Tim. i. 15). Well, we shall find this standard in THE WORD OF GOD,

and we shall not fail to find it if the Holy Spirit is our Teacher.

Having received, in regeneration, a divine nature, we are now to walk in

that nature alone. The possession of this nature is our one peerless

privilege; the walking exclusively in it is our one peerless duty

(Eph. v. 1). We are set to imitate our Father; and let it be noted, that

our copy is to be as perfect as the divine original (Matt. v. 48). Our

lives are to be worthy, worthy, WORTHY of that God who has made us

partakers of a sinless nature (1 Thess. ii. 12). I feel the warmest

sympathy with all who aim at this, and who out of deep depths of

sorrow, confess how unspeakably they come short. But I only wonder

when men, with the Bible in their hands, speak words, which seem to

imply that they are holy as God is holy; perfect as the ONLY PERFECT

ONE.

THE DECEIT OF THE HUMAN HEART.

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked"

(

Jer. xvii. 9).

I have been reading in the Prophet Jeremiah. I often do, as I feel very

specially drawn to him. There is, I think, some peculiar affinity of

natural character between him and me, which strongly attracts me to

him, and which helps me perhaps, to understand him better than any

other of the old prophets. And then some of his words have been such

powerful forces in my life. I know not how to thank God suitably for

warning, instruction, and encouragement granted me through the words

of the faithful Jeremiah. I venture to think, that nothing is better fitted

to meet the dreadful evils abounding among ourselves, at this day, than

the Book of Jeremiah, and the Epistle of James.

In very early life, a word from Jeremiah laid firm hold on me, in a way

no Scripture had done before, and it has never slackened its grip in the

least. It was this word, "The heart is DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS,

AND DESPERATELY WICKED" (Jer. xvii. 9) with the preceding verse.

That utterance has given distinct shape to all my subsequent life.

Whose heart does the prophet describe? Of course it is my own, and it

is an alarming thing to find, that in dealing with God, one is not even

moderately honest. A deceiver, a self-deceiver, and so deceitful that

there is NOTHING in existence to match it. "He that trusteth in his

own heart is a fool."

Ah, the need to flee to the Lord Jesus, not only from external enemies,

but from our very own selves. And yet how few, how very few, have

the slightest appearance of doing this. Looking back over a fairly long

life, and this life spent among unusual opportunities for becoming

acquainted with the workings of the religious mind in general, I am

greatly struck with the smallness of the number, even among professing

Christians, who seem to have any suspicion of the awful deceitfulness of

their own hearts, or any adequate consciousness of their actual condition

before God.

They sadly recall the awfully solemn warning of our blessed Lord in

Luke vi. 46-49. Instead of digging deep and DEEPER, until they get

down to the living Rock, and laying their foundation on that, they begin

at once, without any deep digging whatever, yea, even without a

foundation, to build their edifice on the surface, to their eternal ruin.

And this is precisely what Jeremiah bewailed in his day (see chapter vi.

1

3-14; viii. 11), though I think the evil could not well have been more

prevalent then, than it is now among us. The words in chapter vi.,

strike one dumb. On the eve of threatened judgments, the prophet is

charged to search Jerusalem with care, and if he shall find a man, ONLY

ONE, among the crowds of zealous religionists, who was a SINCERE

FEARER OF GOD, for the sake of this unit, the doomed city would be

spared. But it seems there was not one. And all this is the more

striking, when it is recollected, that Jerusalem was at this time zealously

religious, and that a great revival had not long before taken place,

during the reign of King Josiah. And as a spectator of all this, what a

model Jeremiah furnishes to any who may be cognizant of similar evils

among themselves (see chapter ix. 1). No doubt, it was in part for the

same evils in His day, that Jesus was "A Man of Sorrows." His general

aspect reminded the people of "The weeping Prophet," so that some

thought He must be Jeremiah himself come back again

(see Matt. xvi. 14).

What a heart-breaking thought it is, that there are more, far more, of our

fellow-men---many of them the professed disciples of Christ---on the way

to the bottomless pit, than to the Father's house.

Why did the Jews so scornfully reject Jesus? Because He was not the

sort of Deliverer they wished; neither was the salvation He offered

them, the kind of salvation which they ardently longed for. They would

not have it, or Him, on any terms. "We will not have this Man to reign

over us," was their settled decision. So they hurried Him to the Cross.

And the case is still the same. What is substantially the same grand old

gospel, is now generally welcomed among us as a doctrine, but Christ as

actual Lord, is just as little wanted, and His salvation is just as little

relished now as then. The modern Church no more really welcomes

the RULE of Christ, than the ancient people of Israel accepted Him as

their King. All this brings us back to the word, "The heart is

DECEITFUL above all things, and DESPERATELY wicked. Who can

know it?" Whose heart? Mine. This is the heaviest affliction I have,

and it is as distressing to speak of it, as to detail the shame of a mother.

If what I have said be true, it is well that we should all solemnly think of

it. If not true, it was an unspeakable mercy to me, to have my mistake

corrected.

This subject may possibly be somewhat new to you. It is most familiar

for long years to me, and what I have hinted at---the deceit of the human

heart---is the heaviest affliction I have. May the Lord draw us and keep

us near to Himself.

DIVINE SEARCHINGS, AND SELF-ABASEMENT.

"Now mine eye seeth Thee; wherefore I abhor myself"

(

Job xlii. 5-6).

You say, "I am constantly finding myself out, more and more; so terribly

weak, all failure round and round; never realizing, in the most distant

way, my own desires; a perfect bundle of contradictions." With all my

heart, I thank God on your behalf for giving you such an experience.

Oh may He be pleased to increase it, a thousand fold, for therein lies

God and heaven. Into no human soul has the Holy Spirit yet entered, if

His light has not revealed to it more or less of its own horrors; while

every advance in grace, is accompanied by fresh discoveries of

indwelling evil, and a consequent deeper self-abasement.

It is, I think, about the very worst symptom of our modern experience,

that this deep self-abasement, because of felt indwelling sin, is lacking to

an unprecedented extent; nay, that the spirit of the present-day teaching

is not in the least fitted to produce it. Indeed, with very much of the

popular teaching, anything like deep conviction is simply impossible.

Oh, the unspeakable blessedness of a thorough self-knowledge of our

wickedness! We have plenty of room for carrying out investigation

here; the field is well-nigh infinite.

Human heart-wickedness, like Divine perfection, is unsearchable. He is

the happiest who, in the school of Christ, has learned this heart-lesson

best. It is only such blessed souls that are capable of discerning the

matchless glories of Jesus. All, except these, merely trifle with Christ,

and delude themselves. The generation in which our Lord lived was

unusually religious, but He described them as merely playing at religion,

while He likened the truly spiritual seekers of God, to men in burning

earnest, acting like soldiers storming a city (see Matt. xi. 12, 16-20).

In referring to the believer's ever-deepening conviction of sin, and his

ever-increasing self-abhorrence---because of it, it is scarcely necessary to

say, that the bewailed sin, which he is hourly detecting in himself, is not

immoralities; it is UNSPIRITUALITIES. If he be a healthy believer, he

has no immoralities at all, but just in proportion to his holiness, will he

be heart-broken, because of his unspiritualities.

It is not so much what he is, that sinks him to the dust---it is what he is

not, yet ought to be. It is not so much the positive evil he has done that

breaks his heart, it is rather the good he ought to have been doing all

along, and which he has failed to do. Oh! it is this wide margin, this

dreary expanse, measurable by miles on miles, between what we ought

to be and what we ARE, that pierces the true Christian with a grief the

very keenest, of which the human heart is susceptible. And yet how

very few seem to have an acquaintance with this sorrow. Why is this?

It is simply self-ignorance, and hardness of heart that keep such from

self-loathing. A tiny ray of the Holy Spirit's light would dispel their

self-satisfied religious peace. For He always begins His work in a soul,

by convincing it of sin (John xvi. 8), and when He convicts, nothing but

Christ and His free, full grace, can avail to comfort. Let us then keep

constantly before us the exceedingly lofty ideal of Christian living, which

the Word of God urges on us, and let us try ourselves by it, and not by

the low conventional standard of ordinary practice. As the Lord liveth,

it is by this lofty standard that we shall be finally be judged before Him,

and if we apply another and easier standard to ourselves, our verdict

must of course be false. I believe that it is owing to the general neglect

of applying God's standard to ourselves, and to our substitution for it of

the world's low standard, that our spiritual vitality is, in general, so

unprecedentedly low.

PERFECTION.

"Not as though I . . . were already perfect" (Phil. iii. 12).

I have the strongest possible dislike to the doctrine of Perfection, as it is

now advocated in certain writings, and claimed to be possessed by

certain individuals. I must avow my conviction that in every case, the

claim to perfect holiness is a great delusion, always harmful, generally

dangerous, and only possible where there is much ignorance of God's

perfect way and standard. The pattern of all Perfection set before us by

God, is Christ. He was perfect. His life, and all His ways were absolute

perfection in everything. Who shall dare to lay down his own living

from day to day, beside the matchless life of the Holy Jesus, and to

say---"The same Jesus lived these two lives; the one in His own person in

Judea, the other here in my person---and I venture to say that my life is

as worthy of the Son of God as His own." I will run the risk of

affirming, that every true Christian would be shocked by the very

suggestion of such a thought. Yet this, and THIS ALONE, is perfect

holiness. Why then, when we fall so unspeakably short of the perfect

standard of holiness---the only one given by God in His Word---should

we use "great swelling words," which on our lips are only words of

vanity, perilously deceiving ourselves, and others.

It is sometimes said that we are commanded to be perfect, and that this

implies we may be so. I admit the command, but do not admit the

inference. God never lowers His own standard; He meets our great

need---not by assigning us a lower standard---but by graciously forgiving

our failure, if---as every true saint does---we sincerely seek to please Him

perfectly.

I will suggest another consideration. The FLESH, the old nature,

cannot be made holy. "Cannot" is God's Word when He speaks about

it (Rom. viii. 7-8). He does not mean to make it holy; He means to

destroy it, after it has served its useful purposes in our education. Now

this incurable flesh remains in us till death, and how any man with this

unalterable sinful flesh in him, can be said to be PERFECTLY HOLY, is

beyond my comprehension.

It is often said that to speak in this way discourages the pursuit of true

holiness, and it has been asked---"How can a man earnestly seek what he

knows he shall never attain to? Well, I grant that it is likely to

discourage mere professors---who are not possessors of Christ, but God

has taken care that truly living souls shall be constrained to seek holiness

under all hindrances. They cannot but seek it. The new nature in

them hungers and thirsts after holiness, with a vehemence of desire

which has no parallel among human desires. I shrink from saying a

word about myself; but I know that I have sought after holiness as I

never did after anything else, and I have not been discouraged by the

knowledge that I shall never be perfect. But in the eager search, I have

found, and am still finding, what, for the present is INFINITELY better

for me than the blessing aimed at. I am learning more thoroughly, than

would otherwise be possible, what a wretched creature sin has made me,

what infinities of all that is horrible, exist in every sin, and I am learning

too, many precious lessons about the infinite holiness and love of my

God and Father which are of higher value by far to me than an

attainment in which I might rest self-satisfied.

As for the eager seeking after perfection, that will always be the true

believer's aim, just in proportion to the vigour of his grace, but to say he

has attained to it is a very different thing.

DIVINE PITY.

"The Lord is very pitiful" (James v. 11).

Oh how good the Lord always is. The longer I live, the more I think of

it and I am the more amazed, overwhelmed, in view of the unwearied

goodness of God. One sometimes hears it said, that "everything is

mixed with mercy." I do not believe it. Everything is all mercy, and

only pure mercy, and there is no mixture in the case (Psa. xxv. 10).

I have just been enjoying a small feast of fat things in some feeble

musings on James v. 11, and if it would not weary you, I shall be glad to

gather up a few fragments, very broken though they be. The apostle

says, "The Lord is VERY PITIFUL." What a sweet thought! He is "very

pitiful." How sweet to the suffering one it is to meet with pity. Well,

God is full of pity, INFINITELY full. And we need to saturate our tired

hearts with the assured faith of this delightful fact. Our natural minds

do not take Him to be pitiful at all. And everything we see around us

in the world, suggests to us any thought rather than this, that God is full

of pity. See in Psalm lxxiii., how Asaph was stumbled, when he

reasoned on what he saw. There lies a Lazarus on every pavement; and

there are the groans of the despairing, and the cries of suffering, arising

from every street. Ah, we must like Asaph, carry our perplexities into

"the sanctuary," if we would get them solved. And in the sanctuary,

what clear light is given to us. God tells us in the strongest, plainest

words there, that He is "very pitiful." With a Father's pity, and a

mother's compassion, He is acting towards us (Psa. ciii. 13; Isa. xlix. 15).

And He tells us story after story of His dealings with sufferers of old,

showing us that when the end of the Lord was wrought out, the whole

course was seen to be "full of pity." And beyond all else, He shows us

the immensity of His pity in the gift to us of His beloved Son. And

faith's clear sight of Jesus on the Cross for us, dispels every doubt.

But we need to close the eyes of fallen nature, and look at the matter

only through the eyes of faith, else we shall mistake it altogether. God

is the Sovereign Ruler of a world which is up in stubborn rebellion

against Him, and which owes all its wretchedness to this rebellion. His

very pity then, constrains Him to act with needful severity. He is as a

Physician in a hospital crowded with patients, some insane, some in the

delirium of fever, all of them in the extremity of mortal disease. The

very tenderness of PITY, constrains vigorous treatment. He is a Father,

with a family whose foolishness surpasses belief, and how then can He

cast away the indispensable rod? Let us get the key to His treatment of

us, at the Cross of the dying Jesus. Applying this key to His daily

providence, it shall open every door of mystery, and we shall come to

have it as one of our firmest convictions, that the Lord is in truth "very

pitiful."

It is not our bodies that He is caring mainly for; that were too mean a

motive even for a man, and it is altogether beneath our Father-God. It

is the soul He wants to heal, and to sanctify. And for this end, He who

grudged not to sacrifice His only Son, shall not grudge to sacrifice our

bodily ease. And it is not our comfort for time merely that He

considers; it is our highest attainable blessedness for eternity. And it is

our true happiness that His wise and holy pity aims at.

Our wretchedly foolish hearts left to themselves, would seek nothing

better than plenty of the world's swine-husks, with a good digestion of

grovelling fare. But His infinite pity, desires for us a higher enjoyment.

He would make us partakers of His own nature; sharers of His own joy;

filled yes, filled with all the fulness of God. And as it is quite

impossible that we should enjoy both the heavenly and the earthly; Oh,

how should we rejoice in the boundless pity, which gently strips of the

earthly, that He may clothe us in His "Best Robe."

A gentleman has an estate. In the fields around his mansion, may be

seen growing course weeds and thistles. But he takes no pleasure in

these. He does nothing with them, but orders his bailiff to get them

rooted out. He has also a Garden, in which he has much delight, and

on the plants of which he expends no end of care. And has also a

Conservatory, and a Hot-house, which are his special delight, into which

he brings only his favourite and selected plants. He never thinks of

putting the thistles and course weeds there.

God is this owner. His field is the world. The great strong weeds are

the world's honoured and envied ones, who seem to get all that their

hearts desire. The Garden is the true Church and the Hot-house is the

school of affliction, in which God is forcing as it were, the growth of His

favoured plants into a special brilliancy of flower and wealth of fruitage,

which it is a joy to Him to contemplate. "For whom the Lord loveth,

He chasteneth," and those whom He loveth most dearly, He scourgeth

most severely. For His aim is to make us "partakers of His holiness"

(Heb. xii. 6, 10). Oh, what pity it was in Him to bring us first out of the

field, and into His Garden; and then what additional grace, to take us

out of the ordinary Garden; and set us in His Hot-house. Let us be as

ready to accept His loving chastenings, as He is to inflict them. And if

the flesh in us feels the strokes to be painful, let our fervent desire for

holiness at any cost, and our steadfast faith in the wise and pitying love,

which is helping us to this holiness, bring a more than compensating

sweetness to our spirits.

And it shall be so with us, if we with self-will destroyed, with all

worldliness and self-seeking rooted out, commit ourselves unreservedly

into His hands with all our fervent desires concentrated into this single

one---"Oh my Father, fulfil in me perfectly, all the good pleasure of Thy

goodness."

THE SYMPATHY OF THE LORD JESUS.

"We have not a High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our

infirmities" (Heb. iv. 15).

How we crave for sympathy, especially when we are in sore trouble; and

how sweet it is for us to get it. Now all this is quite right, for the

Blessed Lord felt the same craving, still more than we do. The wrong

thing is, that we turn to get sympathy to the wrong quarter. Will you

read the feelings of the Lord Jesus in respect to this, in Psa. lxix. 20-21,

and will you muse on every word, until it burns itself into your hearts?

But He got not one particle of sympathy from anybody. I sometimes

think of the sweet solace it would be to His most loving human heart, to

commune for a few minutes with Moses and Elias at the Transfiguration,

respecting His coming DEATH. It weighed on His heart like a

mountain, that heart of love which so yearned for human sympathy; and

yet there was no man, not so much as ONE, to whom He could open His

mind. When He spoke of it to the twelve, they shrunk from it with a sort

of horror (Matt. xvi. 21-23; Luke xviii. 31-34). And what did Jesus do in

these circumstances? In the lack of human sympathy He turned to His

Father. "I am not alone because the Father is with Me" (John iv. 32).

Had it not been for this, His life would have been an unbearable

solitude. And it is here where we err; not in craving sympathy, but in

seeking it from man. Poor man! so empty of all true goodness, has it

not to give. Let us seek it from Christ, as He sought it from His Father.

And Oh, how rich in sympathy is He; and how ready to bestow it. I am

amazed at what I see of this in the Gospel story; and of what I have had

in my own life. Only think of God becoming a Man, and living amid all

the sorrowful experiences of a human life, for this very end (among

other ends), that, through the actual experiences of our human sorrows,

He might be able fully to sympathize with us, and efficiently to help

and comfort us (Heb. iv. 15; ii. 17-18). Since then, we so yearn for

sympathy, and since we always seek it at first from our fellow-men, what

a mercy that we do not get it from them, and that we are driven to seek

it from the glorified Man of Sorrows. We would not go to Him for it, if

we got what satisfied us on earth.

THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN SYMPATHY.

"Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep"

(

Rom. xii. 15).

A little thought comes into my mind, which I will try to express. Is not

the exercise of sympathy a very important Christian ministry; and is it

not greatly neglected? There are few of us who can give money-gifts; or

who can stir up masses of people by an eloquent discourse. But is there

anybody in the Church who is not able if he tried it, to make some one,

or two, or twenty persons happier, by his tender Christ-like sympathy

with them. Perhaps there is nothing whatever, which produces so much

unhappiness as the general unsympathetic thoughtlessness which is

careless in small matters, about the feelings of those who are round

about us. Men are not positively cruel; and would not dare to be, but

then they are not lovingly sympathizing, as each of us should pray, and

strive to be. What an immense difference, for instance, would it make

in the sum-total of happiness in S----, if every professing Christian were

to set himself to care tenderly for the troubles, and to sweeten the lives

of the six persons, whom God in His Providence had placed nearest to

him? Why, this would make a new town of it! And though most of us

might not have the power to do any services that was more than a mere

trifle, yet by one ceaseless self-denying, loving, Christ-like attention to

these trifles, we could, each of us, relieve some one, or two, or three

neighbours of half their burdens. And this sympathetic spirit would

commend the Gospel to their wounded hearts, as nothing else can. A

single Christian making it his or her business to live in this spirit, and

looking for opportunities of showing sympathy, as a trader looks for a

bargain, might do more real work for God, than all the preaching in the

town. For to the suffering heart, sympathy is a hand very sweet, and

some Christ-less mourner might be drawn by tasting its sweetness from

the sympathy of some poor fellow-worm, to desire, and to heed, and to

seek after, the higher, fuller sympathy of the Blessed Lord Jesus.

And besides all this, where they saw a fellow-creature—a

Christian—sympathizing with them, genuinely, it would make it easier

for them to believe in the Infinite love of the Son of God, who loved

them and gave Himself for them.

How Our Marah's Are Made Sweet.

"We glory in tribulations also" (Rom. v. 3).

The peculiarity of the believer's position does not lie in his being

exempted from the severest sufferings, but in his being possessed of an

ANTIDOTE, whereby he can, with ease, take away every trace of

bitterness from the waters of his Marah (Exod. xv. 23); nay, turn them

into the most delicious sweetness.

Sometimes the enemy suggests to me the thought, that the cup which I

am called to drink is filled with bitterness; and, if one were to judge of

things by natural feeling, there is no denying of it. But whenever I feel

this taste of bitterness, I know that there is something wrong, not in the

cup (for that is all exactly as it should be), but in myself. And then I

seek to get the wrong corrected at once, and this is not hard to do.

First, I look upwards for the succour always needed, and refused never.

Then I turn the mind to a few considerations, which at once remove the

bitterness. Then, I let the mind rest a little, on the most tender

sympathy of the Man of Sorrows. How sweet is sympathy to the

afflicted! None really knows how sweet except the afflicted himself.

But who can describe the whole-hearted compassion of Him whose

Nature and whose Name is love? Why, in order that He might be able

fully to sympathize with us. He got a cup mingled for Himself similar

to ours, and incomparably more bitter, and of that cup He drank for

three and thirty years.

And then I remind myself that this cup of mine was compounded

expressly for me, by Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; that all the infinite

resources of Divine wisdom and love have been exercised in the making

of it up, as a perfect remedy for all my diseases. How then shall I dare

to think, that there can be a tint of evil, in what God regards as being

His VERY BEST? And then I call to mind that my present cup, is not the

one which originally belonged to me. That was a truly fearful cup. It

was the cup of God's righteous indignation, and it was filled to the brim

with the wine of His wrath, poured into it without mixture, and it was to

be drunk for ever and ever (Rev. xiv. 10). But this fearful cup I never

saw. Ere it was passed into my hands, the blessed Son of God took it,

and drank it to the last drop. It cost Him dear. And now, having

been raised from the dead—for the drinking of my cup caused Him to

die—He has compounded this other cup for me, and brought it to me.

And I am constrained to say, "This cup which my Father hath prepared

for me, and which my Saviour hath brought to me, and which the Holy

Spirit has filled full of choicest blessings for me, shall I not drink it?"

FELLOWSHIP WITH THE SON OF GOD.

"Our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ"

(

1 John i. 3).

We are called to FELLOWSHIP with the Son of God. Try to think as

clearly and as deeply as you can, of what is meant by this

word—fellowship. The nearest approach to a perfect fellowship which

we have on earth, is that which subsists between a most affectionate

husband and wife, when heart is knit in heart, as God meant them to be.

They have every earthly possession and enjoyment COMMON. What

belongs to one, belongs to both. Their interests are identical. Their

children, are the children of both; their home belongs equally to each.

But this is the merest shadow of the infinitely more intimate

FELLOWSHIP between Christ and every believing soul. The two are

one spirit (1 Cor. vi. 17), which husband and wife cannot be. The One

lives within the other; Christ thinks and feels, speaks and acts through

His people (Gal. ii. 20; Phil. i. 21). What union between husband and

wife approaches this? In fact, Christ and His people have only one life

between them: He is their life. As for their own old life, it is to be

counted dead (Col. iii. 3). His Father is their Father (John i. 12; xx. 17).

His home is their home (John xvi. 2; xvii. 27). His glory He shares with

them (John xvii. 22). He seats His people with Him, on His very throne

(Rev. iii. 21). He keeps back nothing, but ALL that the Father gave

Him, He opens up to us, to make present use of, so far as we are

spiritually able to appropriate and enjoy it. The same love, of the same

Infinite Father, which rests on Jesus now with ineffable delight, rests this

day on all His people.

Oh let us keep our souls saturated with the lively faith of these truths,

till like a sponge soaked in water, they can hold no more. The time for

fellowship with Christ in GLORY has not yet come, but in the case of

every true believer, the fellowship itself is already begun. For the

present it is "the fellowship of His sufferings" (Phil. iii. 10), for just as it

was with Him, so is it with us now. There was first "the sufferings of

Christ" before there could be "the glory which should follow"

(1 Pet. i. 7). For it is only if we be DEAD with Christ, we shall also live

with Him, if we SUFFER we shall also reign (2 Tim. ii. 11-12).