How truly deplorable is all this! And then the sad condition of the

Lord's dear people, the lambs and sheep of that precious flock for which

He died! It is this that so deeply affects us. It is of little use

attacking Christendom. We quite admit this; but we yearn over the souls

of God's people. We long to see them fully delivered from false

teaching, from Judaism, legalism, and every other _ism_ that robs them

of a full salvation and a precious Saviour. We long to reach them with

the clear and soul-satisfying teachings of Holy Scripture, so that they

may know and enjoy the things that are freely given to them of God. We

can truly say there is nothing which gives us such painful concern as

the state of the Lord's dear people, scattered upon the dark mountains

and desolate moors: and one special object for which we desire to live

is to be the instrument of leading them into those green pastures and

beside those still waters where the true Shepherd and Bishop of their

souls longs to feed them, according to all the deep and tender love of

His heart. He would have them near Himself, reposing in the light of His

blessed countenance. It is not according to His mind or His loving heart

that His people should be kept at a dim cold distance from His presence,

in doubt and darkness. Ah, no; reader, His word tells us to draw

near--to come boldly--to appropriate freely--to make our very own all

the precious privileges to which a Father's love invites us, and a

Saviour's blood entitles us.

"_Let us draw near._" This is the voice of God to us. Christ has opened

up the way. The veil is rent, our place is in the holiest of all, the

conscience sprinkled, the body washed, the soul entering intelligently

into the atoning value of the blood, and the cleansing, sanctifying

power of the Word--its action upon our habits, our ways, our

associations, our entire course and character.

All this is of the very utmost practical value to every true lover of

holiness--and every true Christian is a lover of holiness. "The body

washed with pure water" is a perfectly delightful thought. It sets forth

the purifying action of the word of God on the Christian's entire course

and character. We must not be content with having the heart sprinkled by

the blood; we must also have the body washed with pure water.

And what then? "_Let us hold fast_ the profession of our hope ([Greek:

elpidos]) without wavering (for He is faithful that promised)." Blessed

parenthesis! We may well hold fast, seeing He is faithful. Our hope can

never make ashamed. It rests, in holy calmness, upon the infallible

faithfulness of Him who cannot lie, whose word is settled for ever in

heaven, far above all the changes and chances of this mortal life, above

the din of controversy, the strife of tongues, the impudent assaults of

infidelity, the ignorant ravings of superstition--far away above all

these things, eternally settled in heaven is that Word which forms the

ground of our "hope."

It well becomes us, therefore, to hold fast. We should not have a single

wavering thought--a single question--a single misgiving. For a Christian

to doubt is to cast dishonor upon the word of a faithful God. Let

sceptics, and rationalists, and infidels doubt, for they have nothing to

believe, nothing to rest upon, no certainty. But for a child of God to

doubt, is to call in question the faithfulness of the divine Promiser.

We owe it to His glory, to say nothing of our own peace, to "hold fast

the confession of our hope without wavering." Thus may it be with every

beloved member of the household of faith, until that longed-for moment

"when faith and hope shall cease, and love abide alone."

But there is one more interesting branch of Christian work at which we

must glance ere closing this paper. "_Let us consider one another_, to

provoke unto love and to good works."

This is in lovely moral keeping with all that has gone before. The grace

of God has so richly met all our personal need--setting before us such

an array of precious privileges--an opened heaven--a rent veil--a

crowned and seated Saviour--a great High Priest--a perfectly purged

conscience--boldness to enter--a hearty welcome--a faithful Promiser--a

sure and certain hope: having all these marvelous blessings in full

possession, what have we got to do? To consider ourselves? Nay verily;

this were superfluous and sinfully selfish. We could not possibly do so

well for ourselves as God has done for us. He has left nothing unsaid,

nothing undone, nothing to be desired. Our cup is full and running over.

What remains? Simply to "consider one another;" to go out in the

activities of holy love, and serve our brethren in every possible way;

to be on the lookout for opportunities of doing good; to be ready for

every good work; to seek in a thousand little ways to make hearts glad;

to seek to shed a ray of light on the moral gloom around us; to be a

stream of refreshing in this sterile and thirsty wilderness.

These are some of the things that make up a Christian's work. May we

attend to them! May we be found provoking one another, not to envy and

jealousy, but to love and good works; exhorting one another daily;

diligently availing ourselves of the public assembly, and so much the

more, as we see the day approaching.

May the Holy Spirit engrave upon the heart of both writer and reader

these most precious exhortations so thoroughly characteristic of our

glorious Christianity--"_Let us draw near_"--"_Let us hold fast_"--"_Let

us consider one another!_"

* * * * *

The veil is rent:--our souls draw near

Unto a throne of grace;

The merits of the Lord appear,

They fill the holy place.

His precious blood has spoken there. Before and on the throne:

And His own wounds in heaven declare, The atoning work is done.

'Tis finished!--here our souls have rest, His work can never fail: By

Him, our Sacrifice and Priest, We pass within the veil.

Within the holiest of all, Cleansed by His precious blood, Before the

throne we prostrate fall And worship Thee, O God! */

THE CHRISTIAN PRIESTHOOD

We want the reader to open his Bible and read I Pet. ii. I-9. In this

lovely scripture he will find three words on which we will ask him to

dwell with us for a little. They are words of weight and power--words

which indicate three great branches of practical Christian truth--words

conveying to our hearts a fact which we cannot too deeply ponder,

namely, that Christianity is a living and divine reality. It is not a

set of doctrines, however true; a system of ordinances, however

imposing; a number of rules and regulations, however important.

Christianity is far more than any or all of these things. It is a

living, breathing, speaking, active, powerful reality--something to be

seen in the every day life--something to be felt in the scenes of

personal, domestic history, from hour to hour--something formative and

influential--a divine and heavenly power introduced into the scenes and

circumstances through which we have to move, as men, women, and

children, from Sunday morning to Saturday night. It does not consist in

holding certain views, opinions, and principles, or in going to this

place of worship or that.

Christianity is the life of Christ communicated to the

believer--dwelling _in_ him--and flowing out _from_ him, in the ten

thousand little details which go to make up our daily practical life. It

has nothing ascetic, or sanctimonious about it. It is genial, pure,

elevated, holy, divine. Such is Christianity. It is Christ dwelling in

the believer, and reproduced, by the power of the Holy Ghost, in the

believer's daily practical career.

But let us turn to our three words; and may the Eternal Spirit expound

their deep and holy meaning to our souls!

And first, then, we have the word "living." "To whom coming, as unto a

living Stone, disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and precious,

ye also, as living stones, are built up."

Here we have what we may call the foundation of Christian priesthood.

There is evidently an allusion here to that profoundly interesting scene

in Matt. xvi. to which we must ask the reader to turn for a moment.

"When Jesus was come into the coasts of Caesarea Philippi, He asked His

disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I, the Son of Man, am?[XXIII.]

And they said, 'Some say Thou art John the Baptist; some, Elias; and

others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets.'"

There was endless speculation, simply because there was no real

heart-work respecting the blessed One. Some said this, some said that;

and, in result, no one cared who or what He was; and hence He turns away

from all this heartless speculation, and puts the pointed question to

His own, "But whom say ye that I am?" He desired to know what they

thought about Him--what estimate their hearts had formed of Him. "And

Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the

_living_ God."

Here we have the true confession. Here lies the solid foundation of the

whole edifice of the Church of God and all true practical

Christianity--"Christ the Son of the _living_ God." No more dim

shadows--no more powerless forms--no more lifeless ordinances--all must

be permeated by this new, this divine, this heavenly life which has come

into this world, and is communicated to all who believe in the name of

the Son of God.

"And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona;

for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which

is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter; and upon

this rock I _will build_ My Church; and the gates of hell shall not

prevail against it."

Now, it is evidently to this magnificent passage that the apostle Peter

refers in the second chapter of his first epistle, when he says, "To

whom coming, as unto a _living_ stone, disallowed indeed of men, but

chosen of God, and precious, ye also, as _living_ stones (the same

words), are built up," etc. All who believe in Jesus are partakers of

His risen, victorious, _rock_ life. The life of Christ, the Son of the

living God, flows through all His members, and through each in

particular. Thus we have the _living_ God, the _living_ Stone, the

_living_ stones. It is all life together--life flowing down from a

living source, through a living channel, and imparting itself to all

believers, thus making them living stones.

Now, this life having been tried and tested, in every possible way, and

having come forth victorious, can never again be called to pass through

any process of trial, testing, or judgment whatsoever. It has passed

through death and judgment. It has gone down under all the waves and

billows of divine wrath, and come forth at the other side in

resurrection, in divine glory and power--a life victorious, heavenly,

and divine, beyond the reach of all the powers of darkness. There is no

power of earth or hell, men or devils, that can possibly touch the life

which is possessed by the very smallest and most insignificant stone in

Christ's assembly. All believers are built upon the living Stone,

Christ; and are thus constituted living stones. He makes them like

Himself in every respect, save of course, in His incommunicable deity.

Is He a living Stone? They are living stones. Is He a precious Stone?

They are precious stones. Is He a rejected Stone? They are rejected

stones--rejected, disallowed of men. They are, in every respect,

identified with Him. Ineffable privilege!

Here, then, we repeat, is the solid foundation of the Christian

priesthood--the priesthood of all believers. Before any one can offer up

a spiritual sacrifice, he must come to Christ, in simple faith, and be

built on Him as the foundation of the whole spiritual building.

"Wherefore also it is contained in the Scripture (Isa. xxviii. 16),

Behold, I lay in Sion a chief corner-stone, elect, precious; and he that

believeth in Him shall not be confounded."

How precious are these words! God Himself has laid the foundation, and

that foundation is Christ; and all who simply believe in Christ--all who

give Him the confidence of their hearts--all who rest satisfied with

Him, are made partakers of His resurrection-life, and thus made living

stones.

How blessedly simple is this! We are not asked to assist in laying the

foundation. We are not called upon to add the weight of a feather to it.

God has laid the foundation, and all we have to do is to believe and

rest thereon; and He pledges His faithful word that we shall never be

confounded. The very feeblest believer in Jesus has God's own gracious

assurance that he shall never be confounded--never be ashamed--never

come into judgment. He is as free from all charge of guilt and every

breath of condemnation as that living Rock on whom he is built.

Beloved reader, are you on this foundation? Are you built on Christ?

Have you come to Him as God's living Stone, and given Him the full

confidence of your heart? Are you thoroughly satisfied with God's

foundation? or are you seeking to add something of your own--your own

works, your prayers, your ordinances, your vows and resolutions, your

religious duties? If so, if you are seeking to add the smallest jot to

God's foundation, you may rest assured, you will be confounded. God will

not suffer such dishonor to be offered to His tried, elect, precious,

chief corner Stone. Think you that He could allow aught, no matter what,

to be placed beside His beloved Son, in order to form, with Him, the

foundation of His spiritual edifice? The bare thought were an impious

blasphemy. No; it must be Christ alone. He is enough for God, and He may

well be enough for us; and nothing is more certain than that all who

reject, or neglect, turn away from, or add to, God's foundation, shall

be covered with everlasting confusion.

But, having glanced at the foundation, let us look at the

superstructure. This will lead us to the second of our three weighty

words. "To whom coming as unto a _living_ Stone ... ye also, as living

stones, are built up a spiritual house, a _holy_ priesthood, to offer

up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ."

All true believers are holy priests. They are made this by spiritual

birth, just as Aaron's sons were priests in virtue of their natural

birth. The apostle does not say, Ye _ought to be_ living stones, and, Ye

ought to be holy priests. He says ye _are_ such. No doubt, being such,

we are called upon to act accordingly; but we must be in a position

before we can discharge the duties belonging to it. We must be in a

relationship before we can know the affections which flow out of it. We

do not become priests by offering priestly sacrifices. But being,

through grace, made priests, we are called upon to present the

sacrifice. If we were to live a thousand years twice told, and spend all

that time working, we could not work ourselves into the position of holy

priests; but the moment we believe in Jesus--the moment we come to Him

in simple faith--the moment we give Him the full confidence of our

hearts, we are born anew into the position of holy priests, and are then

privileged to draw nigh and offer the priestly sacrifice. How could any

one, of old, have constituted himself a son of Aaron? Impossible. But

being born of Aaron, he was thereby made a member of the priestly house.

We speak not now of capacity, but simply of the position. This latter

was reached not by effort, but by birth.

And now, let us enquire as to the nature of the sacrifice which, as holy

priests, we are privileged to offer. We are "to offer up spiritual

sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ." So also in Heb. xiii.

15, we read, "By Him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to

God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to His

name."

Here, then, we have the true nature and character of that sacrifice

which, as holy priests, we are to offer. It is praise--"praise to God

continually." Blessed occupation! Hallowed exercise! Heavenly

employment! And this is not to be an occasional thing. It is not merely

at some peculiarly favored moment, when all looks bright and smiling

around us. It is not to be merely amid the glow and fervor of some

specially powerful public meeting, when the current of worship flows

deep, wide, and rapid. No; the word is, "praise _continually_." There is

no room, no time for complaining or murmuring, fretfulness and

discontent, impatience and irritability, lamenting about our

surroundings, whatever these may be, complaining about the weather,

finding fault with those who are associated with us, whether in public

or in private, whether in the congregation, in the business, or in the

family circle.

Holy priests should have no time for any of these things. They are

brought nigh to God, in holy liberty, peace, and blessing. They breathe

the atmosphere and walk in the sunlight of the divine presence, in the

new creation, where there are no materials for a sour and discontented

mind to feed upon. We may set it down as a fixed principle--an

axiom--that whenever we hear anyone pouring out a string of complaints

about circumstances, his neighbors etc., such an one is not realizing

the place of holy priesthood, and, as a consequence, not exhibiting its

practical fruits. A holy priest should "rejoice in the Lord

always"--ever ready to praise God. True, he may be tried in a thousand

ways; but he brings his trials to God in communion, not to his

fellow-man in complaining. "Hallelujah" is the proper utterance of the

very feeblest member of the Christian priesthood.

But we must now look, for a moment, at the third and last branch of our

present theme. This is presented in that highly expressive word "royal."

The apostle goes on to say, "But ye are a chosen generation, a _royal_

priesthood ... that ye should show forth the virtues (see margin) of Him

who hath called you out of darkness into His marvelous light."

This completes the lovely picture of the Christian priesthood.[XXIV.] As

_holy_ priests, we draw nigh to God, and present the sacrifice of

praise. As royal priests we go forth among our fellow-men, in all the

details of practical daily life, to show forth the virtues--the

graces--the lovely moral features of Christ. Every movement of a royal

priest should emit the fragrance of the grace of Christ.

Mark again, the apostle does not say, _Ye ought to be_ royal priests. He

says ye _are_; and as such we are to show forth the virtues of Christ.

Nothing else becomes a member of the royal priesthood. To be occupied

with myself, to be taking counsel for my own ease, my own interest, my

own enjoyment, to be seeking my own ends, and caring about my own

things, is not the act of a royal priest at all. Christ never did so;

and I am told to show forth His virtues. He, blessed be His name, grants

to His people, in this the time of His absence, to anticipate the day

when He shall come forth as a Royal Priest, and sit upon His throne, and

send forth the benign influence of His dominion to the ends of the

earth. We are called to be the present expression of the kingdom of

Christ--the expression of Himself.

And let none suppose that the actings of a royal priest are to be

confined to the matter of _giving_. This would be a grave mistake. No

doubt, a royal priest will give, and give liberally if he has it; but to

limit him to the mere matter of communicating would be to rob him of

some of the most precious functions of his position. The very man who

penned the words on which we are dwelling said on one occasion--and said

it without shame, "Silver and gold have I none;" and yet at that very

moment, he was acting as a royal priest, by bringing the precious

virtue of the name of Jesus to bear on the impotent man (Acts. iii.).

The blessed Master Himself, we know, possessed no money; but He went

about doing good; and so should we: nor do we need money to do it.

Indeed it very often happens that we do mischief instead of good with

our silver and gold. We may take people off the ground on which God has

placed them, namely, the ground of honest industry, and make them

dependent upon human alms. Moreover, we may often make hypocrites and

sycophants of people by our injudicious use of money.

Hence, therefore, let no one imagine that he cannot act as a royal

priest without earthly riches. What riches are required to speak a

kindly word--to drop the tear of sympathy--to give the soothing, genial

look? None whatever save the riches of God's grace--the unsearchable

riches of Christ, all of which are laid open to the most obscure member

of the Christian priesthood. I may be poorly clad, without a penny in

the world, and yet carry myself truly as a royal priest, by diffusing

around me the fragrance of the grace of Christ.

But, perhaps, we cannot more suitably close these few remarks on the

Christian priesthood, than by giving a very vivid illustration drawn

from the inspired page--the narrative of two beloved servants of Christ

who were enabled, under the most distressing circumstances, to acquit

themselves as holy and royal priests.

Turn to Acts xvi. 19-34. Here we have Paul and Silas thrust into the

innermost part of the prison at Philippi, their backs covered with

stripes, and their feet fast in the stocks, in the darkness of the

midnight hour. What were they doing? murmuring and complaining? Ah, no!

They had something better and brighter to do. Here were two really

"living stones," and nothing that earth or hell could do could hinder

the life that was in them expressing itself in its proper accents.

But what, we repeat, were these living stones doing? these partakers of

the rock-life--the victorious, resurrection-life of Christ--how did they

employ themselves? Well, then, in the first place, as _holy_ priests

they offered the sacrifice of praise to God. Yes, "at midnight, Paul and

Silas prayed and sang praises to God." How precious is this! How morally

glorious! How truly refreshing! What are stripes, or stocks, or prison

walls, or gloomy nights, to living stones and holy priests? Nothing more

than a dark background to throw out into bright and beauteous relief the

living grace that is in them. Talk of circumstances! Ah, it is little

any of us know of trying circumstances. Poor things that we are, the

petty annoyances of daily life are often more than enough to cause us to

lose our mental balance. Paul and Silas were really in trying

circumstances; but they were there as living stones and holy priests.

Yes, reader, and they were there as royal priests, likewise. How does

this appear? Certainly not by scattering silver and gold. It is not

likely the dear men had much of these to scatter. But oh, they had what

was better, even "the virtues of Him who had called them out of darkness

into His marvelous light." And where do these virtues shine out? In

those touching words addressed to the jailer, "_Do thyself no harm_."

These were the accents of a _royal_ priest, just as the song of praise

was the voice of a _holy_ priest. Thank God for both! The voices of the

holy priests went directly up to the throne of God and did their work

there; and the words of the royal priests went directly to the jailer's

hard heart and did their work there. God was glorified and the jailer

saved by two men rightly discharging the functions of "_the Christian

priesthood_."

Father! Thy sovereign love has sought

Captives to sin, gone far from Thee:

The work that Thine own Son hath wrought,

Has brought us back, in peace, and free!

And now, as sons before Thy Face,

With joyful steps the path we tread,

Which leads us on to that blest place

Prepared for us, by Christ our Head.

Thou gav'st us, in eternal love,

To Him, to bring us home to Thee;

Suited to Thine own thoughts above

As sons, like Him, with Him to be.

Oh, boundless grace! What fills with joy

Unmingled all that enter there;

God's Nature, Love without alloy,

Our hearts are given e'en now to share!

Oh, keep us, Love Divine, near Thee!

That we our nothingness may know;

And ever to Thy glory be,

Walking in faith while here below.

J. N. D.

FOOTNOTES:

[XXIII.] Let the reader note this title, "_Son of Man_." It is

infinitely precious. It is a title indicating our Lord's rejection as

the Messiah, and leading out into that wide, that universal sphere over

which He is destined in the counsels of God, to rule. It is far wider

than Son of David, or Son of Abraham, and has peculiar charms for us,

inasmuch as it places Him before our hearts as the lonely, outcast

Stranger, and yet as the One who links Himself in perfect grace with us

in all our need--One whose footprints we can trace all across this

dreary desert. "The Son of Man hath not where to lay His head." And yet

it is as Son of Man that He shall, by-and-by, exercise that universal

dominion reserved for Him according to the eternal counsels of God. See

Daniel vii.

[XXIV.] The intelligent reader does not need to be told that all

believers are priests; and, further, that there is no such thing as a

priest upon earth, save in the sense in which all true Christians are

priests. The idea of a certain set of men, calling themselves priests in

contrast with the people--a certain caste distinguished by title and

dress from the body of Christians, is not Christianity at all, but

Judaism or intelligently worse. All who read the Bible and bow to its

authority will be perfectly clear as to these things.

PAPERS ON EVANGELIZATION

CHAPTER I.

A WORD TO THE EVANGELIST.

We trust it may not be deemed out of place if we venture to offer a word

of counsel and encouragement to all who have been and are engaged in the

blessed work of preaching _the gospel of the grace of God_. We are, in

some measure, aware of the difficulties and discouragements which attend

upon the path of every evangelist, whatever may be his sphere of labor

or measure of gift; and it is our heart's desire to hold up the hands

and cheer the hearts of all who may be in danger of falling under the

depressing power of these things. We increasingly feel the immense

importance of an earnest, fervent gospel testimony everywhere; and we

dread exceedingly any falling off therein. We are imperatively called to

"do the work of an evangelist," and not to be moved from that work by

any arguments or considerations whatsoever.

Let none imagine that, in writing thus, we mean to detract, in the

smallest degree, from the value of teaching, lecturing, or exhortation.

Nothing is further from our thoughts. "These things ought ye to have

done, and not to leave the other undone." We mean not to compare the

work of the evangelist with that of the teacher, or to exalt the former

at the expense of the latter. Each has its own proper place, its own

distinctive interest and importance.

But is there not a danger, on the other hand, of the evangelist

abandoning his own precious work in order to give himself to the work of

teaching and lecturing? Is there not a danger of the evangelist becoming

merged in the teacher? We fear there is; and it is under the influence

of this very fear that we pen these few lines. We observe, with deep

concern, some who were once known amongst us as earnest and eminently

successful evangelists, now almost wholly abandoning their work and

becoming teachers and lecturers.

This is most deplorable. _We really want evangelists._ A true evangelist

is almost as great a rarity as a true pastor. Alas! alas! how rare are

both! The two are closely connected. The evangelist gathers the sheep;

the pastor feeds and cares for them. The work of each lies very near the

heart of Christ--the Divine Evangelist and Pastor; but it is with the

former we have now more immediately to do--to encourage him in his work,

and to warn him against the temptation to turn aside from it. We cannot

afford to lose a single ambassador just now, or to have a single

preacher silent. We are perfectly aware of the fact that there is in

some quarters a strong tendency to throw cold water upon the work of

evangelization. There is a sad lack of sympathy with the preacher of the

gospel; and, as a necessary consequence, of active co-operation with

him in his work. Further, there is a mode of speaking of gospel

preaching which argues but little sympathy with the heart of Him who

wept over impenitent sinners, and who could say, at the very opening of

His blessed ministry, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He

hath anointed Me _to preach the gospel to the poor_" (Isa. lxi.; Luke

iv.). And again, "Let us go into the next towns, that I may preach there

also: for therefore came I forth" (Mark i. 38).

Our blessed Lord was an indefatigable preacher of the gospel, and all

who are filled with His mind and spirit will take a lively interest in

the work of all those who are seeking in their feeble measure to do the

same. This interest will be evinced, not only by earnest prayer for the

divine blessing upon the work, but also by diligent and persevering

efforts to get immortal souls under the sound of the gospel.

This is the way to help the evangelist, and this way lies open to every

member of the Church of God--man, woman, or child. All can thus help

forward the glorious work of evangelization. If each member of the

assembly were to work diligently and prayerfully in this way, how

different would it be with the Lord's dear servants who are seeking to

make known the unsearchable riches of Christ.

But, alas! how often is it otherwise. How often do we hear even those

who are of some repute for intelligence and spirituality, when referring

to meetings for gospel testimony, say, "Oh, I am not going there; it is

_only_ the gospel." Think of that! "_Only the gospel._" If they would

put the idea into other words, they might say, "It is _only_ the heart

of God--_only_ the precious blood of Christ--_only_ the glorious record

of the Holy Ghost."

This would be putting the thing plainly. Nothing is more sad than to

hear professing Christians speak in this way. It proves too clearly that

their souls are very far away from the heart of Jesus. We have

invariably found that those who think and speak slightingly of the work

of the evangelist are persons of very little spirituality; and on the

other hand, the most devoted, the most true hearted, the best taught

saints of God, are always sure to take a profound interest in that work.

How could it be otherwise? Does not the voice of Holy Scripture bear the

clearest testimony to the fact of the interest of the Trinity in the

work of the gospel? Most assuredly it does. Who first preached the

gospel? Who was the first herald of salvation? Who first announced the

good news of the bruised Seed of the woman? The Lord God Himself, in the

garden of Eden. This is a telling fact in connection with our theme. And

further, let us ask, who was the most earnest, laborious, and faithful

preacher that ever trod this earth? The Son of God. And who has been

preaching the gospel for the last eighteen centuries? The Holy Ghost

sent down from heaven.

Thus then we have the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost all actually

engaged in the work of evangelization; and if this be so, who are we to

dare to speak slightingly of such a work? Nay, rather may our whole

moral being be stirred by the power of the Spirit of God so that we may

be able to add our fervent and deep Amen to those precious words of

inspiration, "How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel

of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!" (Isa. lii. 7; Rom. x.

15.)

But it may be that these lines shall be scanned by some one who has been

engaged in the work of preaching the gospel, and is beginning to feel

rather discouraged. It may be that he has been called to preach in the

same place for years, and he feels burdened by the thought of having to

address the same audience, on the same subject, week after week, month

after month, year after year. He may feel at a loss for something new,

something fresh, some variety. He may sigh for some new sphere, where

the subjects which are familiar to him will be new to the people. Or, if

this cannot be, he may feel led to substitute lectures and expositions

for the fervid, pointed, earnest preaching of the gospel.

If we have in any measure set forth the reader's feelings on this

subject, we think it will greatly help him in his work to bear in mind

that the one grand theme of the true evangelist is Christ. The power to

handle that theme is the Holy Ghost. The one to whom that theme is to be

unfolded is the poor lost sinner. Now, Christ is ever new; the power of

the Holy Ghost is ever fresh; the soul's condition and destiny ever

intensely interesting. Furthermore, it is well for the evangelist to

bear in mind, on every fresh occasion of rising to preach, that his

unconverted hearers are totally ignorant of the gospel, and hence he

should preach as though it were the first time they had ever heard the

message, and the first time he had ever delivered it. For, be it

remembered, the preaching of the gospel, in the divine acceptation of

the phrase, is not a mere barren statement of evangelical doctrine--a

certain form of words enunciated over and over again in wearisome

routine. Far, very far from it. The gospel is really the large loving

heart of God welling up and flowing forth toward the poor lost sinner in

streams of life and salvation. It is the presentation of the atoning

death and glorious resurrection of the Son of God; and all this in the

present energy, glow, and freshness of the Holy Ghost, from the

exhaustless mine of Holy Scripture. Moreover, _the_ one absorbing object

of the preacher is to win souls for Christ, to the glory of God. For

this he labors and pleads; for this he prays, weeps, and agonizes; for

this he thunders, appeals, and grapples with the heart and conscience of

his hearer. His object is not to teach doctrines, though doctrines may

be taught; his object is not to expound Scripture, though Scripture may

be expounded. These things lie within the range of the teacher or

lecturer; but let it never be forgotten, the preacher's object is to

bring the Saviour and the sinner together--to win souls to Christ. May

God by His Spirit keep these things ever before our hearts, so that we

may have a deeper interest in the glorious work of evangelization!

We would, in conclusion, merely add a word of exhortation in reference

to the Lord's Day evening. We would, in all affection, say to our

beloved and honored fellow-laborers, Seek to give that one hour to the

great business of the soul's salvation. There are 168 hours in the week,

and, surely, it is the least we may devote _one_ of these to this

momentous work. It so happens that during that interesting hour we can

get the ear of our fellow-sinner. Oh, let us use it to pour in the sweet

story of God's free love and of Christ's full salvation.

CHAPTER II.

A MOTTO FOR THE EVANGELIST.

(2 Cor. x. 16.)

"To _preach the gospel in the regions beyond you_." These words, while

they set forth the large-heartedness of the self-denying and devoted

apostle, do also furnish a fine model for the evangelist, in every age.

The gospel is a traveler; and the preacher of the gospel must be a

traveler likewise. The divinely-qualified and divinely-sent evangelist

will fix his eye upon "_the world_." He will embrace, in his benevolent

design, the human family. From house to house; from street to street;

from city to city; from province to province; from kingdom to kingdom;

from continent to continent; from pole to pole. Such is the range of the

"good news" and the publisher thereof. "The regions beyond" must ever be

the grand gospel motto. No sooner has the gospel lamp cast its cheering

beams over a district, than the bearer of that lamp must think of the

regions beyond. Thus the work goes on. Thus the mighty tide of grace

rolls, in enlightening and saving power, over a dark world which lies in

"the region of the shadow of death."

"Waft, waft, ye winds, the story,

And you, ye waters, roll,

Till, like the sea of glory,

It spreads from pole to pole."

Christian reader, are you thinking of "the regions beyond you?" This

expression may, in your case, mean the next house, the next street, the

next village, the next city, the next kingdom, or the next continent.

The application is for your own heart to ponder: but say, are you

thinking of "the regions beyond you?" I do not want you to abandon your

present post at all; or, at least, not until you are fully persuaded

that your work, at the post, is done. But, remember, the gospel plough

should never stand still. "_Onward_" is the motto of every true

evangelist. Let the shepherds abide by the flocks; but let the

evangelists betake themselves hither and thither, to gather the sheep.

Let them sound the gospel trump, far and wide, o'er the dark mountains

of this world, to gather together the elect of God. This is the design

of the gospel. This should be the object of the evangelist, as he sighs

after "the regions beyond." When Caesar beheld, from the coast of Gaul,

the white cliffs of Britain, he earnestly longed to carry his arms

thither. The evangelist, on the other hand, whose heart beats in unison

with the heart of Jesus, as he casts his eye over the map of the world,

longs to carry the gospel of peace into regions which have heretofore

been wrapped in midnight gloom, covered with the dark mantle of

superstition, or blasted beneath the withering influences of "a form of

godliness without the power."

It would, I believe, be a profitable question for many of us to put to

ourselves, how far are we discharging our holy responsibilities to "the

regions beyond." I believe the Christian who is not cultivating and

manifesting an evangelistic spirit, is in a truly deplorable condition.

I believe, too, that the assembly which is not cultivating and

manifesting an evangelistic spirit is in a dead state. One of the truest

marks of spiritual growth and prosperity, whether in an individual or in

an assembly, is earnest anxiety after the conversion of souls. This

anxiety will swell the bosom with most generous emotions; yea, it will

break forth in copious streams of benevolent exertion, ever flowing

toward "the regions beyond." It is hard to believe that "the word of

Christ" is "dwelling richly" in any one who is not making some effort to

impart that word to his fellow-sinners. It matters not what may be the

amount of the effort; it may be to drop a few words in the ear of a

friend, to give a tract, to pen a note, to breathe a prayer. But one

thing is certain, namely, that a healthy, vigorous Christian will be an

evangelistic Christian--a teller of good news--one whose sympathies,

desires, and energies, are ever going forth toward "the regions beyond."

"I must preach the gospel to other cities also, for therefore am I

sent." Such was the language of the true Evangelist.

It is very doubtful whether many of the servants of Christ have not

erred in allowing themselves, through one influence or another, to

become too much localized--too much tied in one place. They have dropped

into routine work--into a round of stated preaching in the same place,

and, in many cases, have paralyzed themselves and paralyzed their

hearers also. I speak not, now, of the labors of the pastor, the elder,

or the teacher, which must, of course, be carried on in the midst of

those who are the proper subjects of such labors. I refer more

particularly to the evangelist. Such an one should never suffer himself

to be localized. The world is his sphere--"the regions beyond," his

motto--to gather out God's elect, his object--the current of the Spirit,

his line of direction. If the reader should be one whom God has called

and fitted to be an evangelist, let him remember these four things--the

sphere, the motto, the object, and the line of direction, which all must

adopt if they would prove fruitful laborers in the gospel field.

Finally, whether the reader be an evangelist or not, I would earnestly

intreat him to examine how far he is seeking to further the gospel of

Christ. We must not stand idle. Time is short! Eternity is rapidly

posting on! The Master is most worthy! Souls are most precious! The

season for work will soon close! Let us, then, in the name of the Lord,

be up and doing. And when we have done what we can, in the regions

around, let us carry the precious seed into "THE REGIONS BEYOND."

CHAPTER III.

THE WORK OF AN EVANGELIST.

(Acts xvi. 8-31.)

We ventured to offer a word to the evangelist, which we now follow up

with a paper on the evangelist's work; and we cannot do better than

select, as the basis of our remarks, a page from the missionary record

of one of the greatest evangelists that ever lived. The passage of

Scripture that stands at the head of this article furnishes specimens of

three distinct classes of hearers, and also the method in which they

were met by the great apostle of the Gentiles, guided, most surely, by

the Holy Ghost. We have, first, _the earnest seeker_; secondly, _the

false professor_; and thirdly, _the hardened sinner_. These three

classes are to be met everywhere, and at all times, by the Lord's

workman; and hence we may be thankful for an inspired account of the

right mode of dealing with such. It is most desirable that those who go

forth with the gospel should have skill in dealing with the various

conditions of soul that come before them, from day to day; and there can

be no more effectual way of attaining this skill than the careful study

of the models given us by God the Holy Ghost.

Let us then, in the first place, look at the narrative of

THE EARNEST SEEKER.

The laborious apostle, in the course of his missionary journeyings,

came to Troas, and there a vision appeared to him in the night, "There

stood a man of Macedonia, and prayed him, saying, Come over into

Macedonia and help us. And after he had seen the vision, immediately we

endeavored to go into Macedonia, assuredly gathering that the Lord had

called us for to preach the gospel unto them. Therefore loosing from

Troas, we came with a straight course to Samothracia, and the next day

to Neapolis; and from thence to Philippi, which is the chief city of

that part of Macedonia, and a colony: and we were in that city abiding

certain days. And on the Sabbath we went out of the city by a river

side, where prayer was wont to be made; and we sat down, and spake unto

the women which resorted thither. And a certain woman named Lydia, a

seller of purple, of the city of Thyatira, which worshiped God, heard

us; whose heart the Lord opened, that she attended unto the things that

were spoken of Paul. And when she was baptized, and her household, she

besought us, saying, If ye have judged me to be faithful to the Lord,

come into my house and abide there. And she constrained us" (Acts xvi.

8-15).

Here, then, we have a touching picture--something well worth gazing at

and pondering. It is a picture of one who, having through grace gotten a

measure of light, was living up to it, and was earnestly seeking for

more. Lydia, the seller of purple, belonged to the same interesting

generation as the eunuch of Ethiopia, and the centurion of Caesarea. All

three appear on the page of inspiration as quickened souls not

emancipated--not at rest--not satisfied. The eunuch had gone from

Ethiopia to Jerusalem in search of something on which to rest his

anxious soul. He had left that city still unsatisfied, and was devoutly

and earnestly hanging over the precious page of inspiration. The eye of

God was upon him, and He sent His servant Philip with the very message

that was needed to solve his difficulties, answer his questions, and set

his soul at rest. God knows how to bring the Philips and the eunuchs

together. He knows how to prepare the heart for the message and the

message for the heart. The eunuch was a worshiper of God; but Philip is

sent to teach him how to see God in the face of Jesus Christ. This was

precisely what he wanted. It was a flood of fresh light breaking in upon

his earnest spirit, setting his heart and conscience at rest, and

sending him on his way rejoicing. He had honestly followed the light as

it broke in upon his soul, and God sent him more.

Thus it is ever. "To him that hath shall more be given." There never was

a soul who sincerely acted up to his light that did not get more light.

This is most consolatory and encouraging to all anxious enquirers. If

the reader belongs to this class, let him take courage. If he is one of

those with whom God has begun to work, then let him rest assured of

this, that He who hath begun a good work will perform the same until the

day of Jesus Christ. He will, most surely, perfect that which

concerneth His people.

But let no one fold his arms, settle upon his oars, and coolly say, "I

must wait God's time for more light. I can do nothing--my efforts are

useless. When God's time comes I shall be all right; till then, I must

remain as I am." These were not the thoughts or feelings of the

Ethiopian eunuch. He was one of the earnest seekers; and all earnest

seekers are sure to be happy finders. It must be so, for "God is a

rewarder of them that diligently seek Him" (Heb. xi. 6).

So also with the centurion of Caesarea. He was a man of the same stamp.

He lived up to his light. He fasted, he prayed, and gave alms. We are

not told whether he had read the sermon on the mount: but it is

remarkable that he exercised himself in the three grand branches of

practical righteousness set forth by our Lord in the sixth chapter of

Matthew.[XXV.] He was moulding his conduct and shaping his way according

to the standard which God had set before him. His righteousness exceeded

the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, and therefore he entered

the kingdom. He was, through grace, a real man, earnestly following the

light as it streamed in upon his soul, and he was led into the full

blaze of the gospel of the grace of God. God sent a Peter to Cornelius,

as he had sent a Philip to the eunuch. The prayers and alms had gone up

as a memorial before God, and Peter was sent with a message of full

salvation through a crucified and risen Saviour.

Now it is quite possible that there are persons who, having been rocked

in the cradle of easy-going evangelical profession, and trained up in

the flippant formalism of a self-indulgent, heaven-made-easy religion,

are ready to condemn the pious conduct of Cornelius, and pronounce it

the fruit of ignorance and legality. Such persons have never known what

it was to deny themselves a single meal, or to spend an hour in real,

earnest prayer, or to open their hand, in true benevolence, to meet the

wants of the poor. They have heard and learnt, perchance, that salvation

is not to be gained by such means--that we are justified by faith

without works--that it is to him that worketh not, but believeth on Him

that justifieth the ungodly.

All this is most true; but what right have we to imagine that Cornelius

was praying, fasting, and giving alms in order to earn salvation? None

whatever--at least if we are to be governed by the inspired narrative,

and we have no other means of knowing aught about this truly excellent

and interesting character. He was informed by the angel that his prayers

and his alms had gone up as a memorial before God. Is not this a clear

proof that these prayers and alms were not the trappings of

self-righteousness, but the fruits of a righteousness based on the

knowledge which he had of God? Surely the fruits of self-righteousness

and legality could never have ascended as a memorial to the throne of

God; nor could Peter ever have said concerning a mere legalist that he

was one who feared God and worked righteousness.

Ah, no, reader; Cornelius was a man thoroughly in earnest. He lived up

to what he knew, and he would have been quite wrong to go further. To

him the salvation of his immortal soul, the service of God, and

eternity, were grand and all-absorbing realities. He was none of your

easy-going professors, full of flippant, vapid, worthless talk, but

_doing_ nothing. He belonged to another generation altogether. He

belonged to the _working_, not the _talking_ class. He was one on whom

the eye of God rested with complacency, and in whom the mind of heaven

was profoundly interested.

And so was our friend of Thyatira, Lydia, the seller of purple. She

belonged to the same school--she occupied the same platform as the

centurion and the eunuch. It is truly delightful to contemplate these

three precious souls--to think of one in Ethiopia; another at Caesarea;

and a third at Thyatira or Philippi. It is particularly refreshing to

contrast such downright thorough-going, earnest souls, with many in this

our day of boasted light and knowledge, who have got the plan of

salvation, as it is termed, in their heads, the doctrines of grace on

the tongue, but the world in the heart; whose absorbing object is self,

self, self,--miserable object!

We shall have occasion to refer more fully to these latter under our

second head; but, for the present, we shall think of the earnest Lydia;

and we must confess it is a far more grateful exercise. It is very plain

that Lydia, like Cornelius and the eunuch, was a quickened soul; she was

a worshiper of God; she was one who was right glad to lay aside her

purple-selling, and betake herself to a prayer-meeting, or to any such

like place where spiritual profit was to be had, and where there were

good things going. "Birds of a feather flock together," and so Lydia

soon found out where a few pious souls, a few kindred spirits, were in

the habit of meeting to wait on God in prayer.

All this is lovely. It does the heart good to be brought in contact with

this deep-toned earnestness. Surely the Holy Ghost has penned this

narrative, like all Holy Scripture, for our learning. It is a specimen

case, and we do well to ponder it. Lydia was found diligently availing

herself of any and every opportunity; indeed she exhibited the real

fruits of divine life, the genuine instincts of the new nature. She

found out where saints met for prayer, and took her place among them.

She did not fold her arms and settle down on her lees, to wait, in

antinomian indolence and culpable idleness, for some extraordinary

undefinable thing to come upon her, or some mysterious change to come

over her. No; she went to a prayer-meeting--the place of expressed

need--the place of expected blessing: and there God met her, as He is

sure to meet all who frequent such scenes in Lydia's spirit. God never

fails an expectant heart. He has said, "They shall not be ashamed that

wait for Me;" and, like a bright and blessed sunbeam on the page of

inspiration, shines that pregnant, weighty, soul-stirring sentence, "God

is a rewarder of them that DILIGENTLY seek Him." He sent a Philip to the

eunuch in the desert of Gaza. He sent a Peter to the centurion, in the

town of Caesarea. He sent a Paul to a seller of purple, in the suburbs of

Philippi; and He will send a message to the reader of these lines, if he

be a really earnest seeker after God's salvation.

It is ever a moment of deepest interest when a prepared soul is brought

in contact with the full gospel of the grace of God. It may be that that

soul has been under deep and painful exercise for many a long day,

seeking rest but finding none. The Lord has been working by His Spirit,

and preparing the ground for the good seed. He has been making deep the

furrows so that the precious seed of His Word may take permanent root,

and bring forth fruit to His praise. The Holy Ghost is never in haste.

His work is deep, sure and solid. His plants are not like Jonah's gourd,

springing up in a night and perishing in a night. All that He does will

stand, blessed be His name. "I know that whatsoever God doeth, it shall

be forever." When He convicts, converts, and liberates a soul, the stamp

of His own eternal hand is upon the work, in all its stages.

Now, it must have been a moment of intense interest when one in Lydia's

state of soul was brought in contact with that most glorious gospel

which Paul carried (Acts xvi. 14). She was thoroughly prepared for his

message; and surely his message was thoroughly prepared for her. He

carried with him truth which she had never heard and never thought of.

As we have already remarked, she had been living up to her light; she

was a worshiper of God; but we are bold to assert that she had no idea

of the glorious truth which was lodged in the heart of that stranger who

sat beside her at the prayer-meeting. She had come thither--devout and

earnest woman that she was--to pray and to worship, to get some little

refreshment for her spirit, after the toils of the week. How little did

she imagine that at that meeting she should hear the greatest preacher

that ever lived, save One, and that she should hear the very highest

order of truth that had ever fallen upon mortal ears.

Yet thus it was. And, oh, how important it was for Lydia to have been at

that memorable prayer meeting! How well it was she had not acted as so

many, now-a-days, act, who after a week of toil in the shop, the

warehouse, the factory, or the field, take the opportunity of lying in

bed on Sunday!

How many there are whom you will see at their post from Monday morning

till Saturday night, working away with all diligence at their calling,

but for whom you will look in vain at the meeting on the Lord's day. How

is this? They will tell you, perhaps, that they are so worn out on

Saturday night that they have no energy to rise on Sunday, and therefore

they spend this day in sloth, lounging, and self-indulgence. They have

no care for their souls, no care for eternity, no care for Christ. They

care for themselves, for their families, for the world, for

money-making; and hence you will find them up with the dawn of Monday

and off to their work.

Lydia did not belong to this class at all. No doubt she attended to her

business, as every right-minded person will. We dare say--indeed, we are

sure--she kept very excellent purple, and was a fair, honest trader, in

every sense of the word. But she did not spend her Sabbath in bed, or

lounging about her house, or nursing herself up, and making a great fuss

about all she had to do during the week. Neither do we believe that

Lydia was one of those self-occupied folk whom a shower of rain is

sufficient to keep away from a meeting. No; Lydia was of a different

stamp altogether. She was an earnest woman, who felt she had a soul to

save, and an eternity before her, and a living God to serve and worship.

Would to God we had more Lydias in this our day! It would give a charm,

and an interest, and a freshness to the work of an evangelist, for

which many of the Lord's workmen have to sigh in vain. We seem to live

in a day of terrible unreality as to divine and eternal things. Men,

women, and children are real enough at their money-making, their

pursuits, and their pleasures; but oh, when the things of God, the

things of the soul, the things of eternity, are in question, the aspect

of people is that of a yawning indifference. But the moment is rapidly

approaching--every beat of the pulse, every tick of the watch, brings us

nearer to it--when the yawning indifference shall be exchanged for

"weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth." If this were more deeply

felt, we should have many more Lydias, prepared to lend an attentive ear

to Paul's gospel.

What force and beauty in those words, "Whose heart the Lord opened, that

_she attended_ unto the things that were spoken of Paul." Lydia was not

one of those who go to meetings to think of anything and everything but

the things that are spoken by the Lord's messengers. She was not

thinking of her purple, or of the prices, or the probable gains or

losses. How many of those who fill our preaching rooms and lecture halls

follow the example of Lydia? Alas! we fear but very few indeed. The

business, the state of the markets, the state of the funds, money,

pleasure, dress, folly--a thousand and one things are thought of, and

dwelt upon, and attended to, so that the poor vagrant, volatile heart is

at the ends of the earth instead of "_attending_" to the things that are

spoken.

All this is very solemn, and very awful. It really ought to be looked

into and thought of. People seem to forget the responsibility involved

in hearing the gospel preached. They do not seem to be in the smallest

degree impressed with the weighty fact that the gospel never leaves any

unconverted person where it finds him. He is either saved by receiving,

or rendered more guilty by rejecting it. Hence it becomes a serious

matter to hear the gospel. People may attend gospel meetings as a matter

of custom, as a religious service, or because they have nothing else to

do, and the time would hang heavy upon their hands; or they may go

because they think that the mere act of going has a sort of merit

attached to it. Thus thousands attend preachings at which Christ's

servants, though not Pauls in gift, power, or intelligence, unfold the

precious grace of God in sending His only begotten Son into the world to

save us from everlasting torment and misery. The virtue and efficacy of

the atoning death of the divine Saviour--the Lamb of God--the dread

realities of eternity--the awful horrors of hell, and the unspeakable

joys of heaven--all these weighty matters are handled, according to the

measure of grace bestowed upon the Lord's messengers, and yet how little

impression is produced! They "reason of righteousness, temperance, and

judgment to come," and yet how few are made even to "tremble!"

And why? Will anyone presume to excuse himself for rejecting the gospel

message on the ground of his inability to believe it? Will he appeal to

the very case before us, and say, "The Lord opened her heart; and if He

would only do the same for me, I, too, should attend; but until He does,

I can do nothing"? We reply, and with deep seriousness, Such an argument

will not avail thee in the day of judgment. Indeed we are most

thoroughly convinced that thou wilt not dare to use it then. Thou art

making a false use of Lydia's charming history. True it is, blessedly

true, the Lord opened her heart; and He is ready to open thine also, if

there were in thee but the hundredth part of Lydia's earnestness.

And dost thou not know full well, reader, that there are two sides to

this great question, as there are to every question? It is all very

well, and sounds very forcibly, for thee to say, "I can do nothing." But

who told thee this? Where hast thou learnt it? We solemnly challenge

thee, in the presence of God, Canst thou look up to Him and say, "I can

do nothing--I am not responsible?" Say, is the salvation of thy

never-dying soul just _the_ one thing in which thou canst do nothing?

Thou canst do a lot of things in the service of the world, of self, and

of Satan; but when it becomes a question of God, the soul, and eternity,

you coolly say, "I can do nothing--I am not responsible."

Ah! it will never do. All this style of argument is the fruit of a

one-sided theology. It is the result of the most pernicious reasoning of

the human mind upon certain truths in Scripture which are turned the

wrong way and sadly misapplied. But it will not stand. This is what we

urge upon the reader. It is of no possible use arguing in this way. The

sinner is responsible; and all the theology, and all the reasoning, and

all the fallacious though plausible objections that can be scraped

together, can never do away with this weighty and most serious fact.

Hence, therefore, we call upon the reader to be, like Lydia, in earnest

about his soul's salvation--to let every other question, every other

point, every other subject, sink into utter insignificance in comparison

with this one momentous question--the salvation of his precious soul.

Then, he may depend upon it, the One who sent Philip to the eunuch, and

sent Peter to the centurion, and sent Paul to Lydia, will send some

messenger and some message to him, and will also open his heart to

attend. Of this there cannot possibly be a doubt, inasmuch as Scripture

declares that "God is not willing that any should perish, but that all

should come to repentance." All who perish, after having heard the

message of salvation--the sweet story of God's free love, of a Saviour's

death and resurrection--shall perish without a shadow of an excuse,

shall descend into hell with their blood upon their guilty heads. Their

eyes shall then be open to see through all the flimsy arguments by which

they have sought to prop themselves up in a false position, and lull

themselves to sleep in sin and worldliness.

But let us dwell for a moment on "the things that were spoken of Paul."

The Spirit of God hath not thought proper to give us even a brief

outline of Paul's address at the prayer-meeting. We are therefore left

to other passages of Holy Scripture to form an idea of what Lydia heard

from his lips on that interesting occasion. Let us take, for example,

that famous passage in which he reminds the Corinthians of the gospel

which he had preached to them. "Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you

the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and

wherein ye stand; by which also ye are saved if ye keep in memory what I

preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain. For I delivered unto

you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for

our sins according to the Scriptures; and that He was buried, and that

He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures" (I Cor. xv.

I-4).

Now we may safely conclude that the foregoing passage of Scripture

contains a compendium of the things that were spoken of Paul at the

prayer-meeting at Philippi. The grand theme of Paul's preaching was

Christ--Christ for the sinner--Christ for the saint--Christ for the

conscience--Christ for the heart. He never allowed himself to wander

from this great centre, but made all his preachings and all his

teachings circulate round it with admirable consistency. If he called on

men, both Jews and Gentiles, to repent, the lever with which he worked

was Christ. If he urged them to believe, the object which he held up

for faith was Christ, on the authority of Holy Scripture. If he reasoned

of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, the One that gave

cogency and moral power to his reasoning was Christ. In short, Christ

was the very gist and marrow, the sum and substance, the foundation and

top stone of Paul's preaching and teaching.

But, for our present purpose, there are three grand subjects, found in

Paul's preaching, to which we desire to call the reader's attention.

These are, first, the grace of God; secondly, the Person and work of

Christ; and thirdly, the testimony of the Holy Ghost as given in the

Holy Scriptures.

We do not attempt to go into these vast subjects here; we merely name

them, and entreat the reader to ponder them, to muse over them, and seek

to make them his own.

(I) The grace of God--His free, sovereign favor--is the source from

whence salvation flows--salvation in all the length, breadth, height,

and depth of that most precious word--salvation which stretches, like a

golden chain, from the bosom of God, down to the very deepest depths of

the sinner's guilty and ruined condition, and back again to the throne

of God--meets all the sinner's necessities, overlaps the whole of the

saint's history, and glorifies God in the highest possible manner.

(2) Then, in the second place, the Person of Christ and His finished

work are the _only_ channel through which salvation can possibly flow to

the lost and guilty sinner. It is not the Church and her sacraments,

religion and its rites and ceremonies--man or his doings in any shape or

form. It is the death and resurrection of Christ. "He died for our sins,

was buried, and rose again the third day." This was the gospel which

Paul preached, by which the Corinthians were saved, and the apostle

declares, with solemn emphasis, "If any man preach any other gospel, let

him be accursed." Tremendous words for this our day!

(3) But, thirdly, the authority on which we receive the salvation is the

testimony of the Holy Ghost in Scripture. It is "according to the

Scriptures." This is a most solid and comforting truth. It is not a

question of feelings, or experiences, or evidences; it is a simple

question of faith in God's word wrought in the heart by God's Spirit.

It is a serious reflection for the evangelist, that wherever God's

Spirit is at work, there Satan is sure to be busy. We must remember and

ever be prepared for this. The enemy of Christ and the enemy of souls is

always on the watch, always hovering about to see what he can do, either

to hinder or corrupt the work of the gospel. This need not terrify or

even discourage the workman; but it is well to bear it in mind and be

watchful. Satan will leave no stone unturned to mar or hinder the

blessed work of God's Spirit. He has proved himself the ceaseless,

vigilant enemy of that work, from the days of Eden down to the present

moment.

Now, in tracing the history of Satan, we find him acting in two

characters, namely, as a serpent, or as a lion--using craft or violence.

He will try to deceive; and, if he cannot succeed, then he will use

violence. Thus it is in this sixteenth chapter of the Acts. The

apostle's heart had been cheered and refreshed by what we moderns should

pronounce, "a beautiful case of conversion." Lydia's was a very real and

decided case, in every respect. It was direct, positive, and

unmistakable. She received Christ into her heart, and forthwith took

Christian ground by submitting to the deeply significant ordinance of

baptism. Nor was this all. She immediately opened her house to the

Lord's messengers. Hers was no mere lip profession. It was not merely

_saying_ she believed. She proved her faith in Christ, not only by going

down under the water of baptism, but also by identifying herself and her

household with the name and cause of that blessed One whom she had

received into her heart by faith.

All this was clear and satisfactory. But we must now look at something

quite different. The serpent appears upon the scene in the person of

THE DECEIVER.

"It came to pass, as we went to prayer, a certain damsel possessed with

a spirit of divination met us, which brought her masters much gain by

soothsaying. The same followed Paul and us, and cried, saying, These men

are the servants of the most high God, which show unto us the way of

salvation. And this did she many days. But Paul, being grieved, turned

and said to the spirit, I command thee in the name of Jesus Christ to

come out of her. And he came out the same hour" (vers. 16-18).

Here, then, was a case eminently calculated to test the spirituality and

integrity of the evangelist. Most men would have hailed such words from

the lips of this damsel as an encouraging testimony to the work. Why

then was Paul grieved? Why did he not allow her to continue to bear

witness to the object of his mission? Was she not saying the truth? Were

they not the servants of the most high God? And were they not showing

the way of salvation? Why be grieved with--why silence such a witness?

Because it was of Satan; and, most assuredly, the apostle was not going

to receive testimony from him. He could not allow Satan to help him in

his work. True, he might have walked about the streets of Philippi owned

and honored as a servant of God, if only he had consented to let the

devil have a hand in the work. But Paul could never consent to this. He

could never suffer the enemy to mix himself up with the work of the

Lord. Had he done so, it would have given the deathblow to the testimony

at Philippi. To have permitted Satan to put his hand to the work, would

have involved the total shipwreck of the mission to Macedonia.

It is deeply important for the Lord's workman to weigh this matter. We

may rest assured that this narrative of the damsel has been written for

our instruction.

It is not only a statement of what has occurred, but a sample of what

may and indeed what does occur every day.[XXVI.]

Besides Christendom is full of false profession. There are multitudes of

false professors at this moment, throughout the wide domain of Christian

profession. It is sad to have to say it, but so it is, and we must press

the fact upon the attention of the reader. We are surrounded, on all

sides, by those who give a merely nominal assent to the truths of the

Christian religion. They go on, from week to week, and from year to

year, professing to believe certain things which they do not in reality

believe at all. There are thousands who, every Lord's Day, profess to

believe in the forgiveness of sins, and yet, were such persons to be

examined, it would be found that they either do not think about the

matter at all, or, if they do think, they deem it the very height of

presumption for any one to be sure that his sins are forgiven.

This is very serious. Only think of a person standing up in the presence

of God and saying, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins," and all the

while he does not believe any such thing! Can anything be more

hardening to the heart, or more deadening to the conscience than this?

It is our firm persuasion that the forms and the formularies of

professing Christianity are doing more to ruin precious souls than all

the forms of moral pravity put together. It is perfectly appalling to

contemplate the countless multitudes that are at this moment rushing

along the well-trodden highway of religious profession, down to the

eternal flames of hell. We feel bound to raise a warning note. We want

the reader most solemnly to take heed as to this matter.

We have only instanced one special formulary, because it refers to a

subject of very general interest and importance. How few, comparatively,

are clear and settled as to the question of forgiveness of sins! How few

are able, calmly, decidedly, and intelligently, to say, "_I know_ that

my sins are forgiven!" How few are in the real enjoyment of full

forgiveness of sins, through faith in that precious blood that cleanseth

from all sin! How solemn, therefore, to hear people giving utterance to

such words as these, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins," while, in

fact, they do not believe their own very utterance! Is the reader in the

habit of using such a form of words? Does he believe it? Say, dear

friend, are thy sins forgiven? Art thou washed in the precious atoning

blood of Christ? If not, why not? The way is open. There is no

hindrance. Thou art perfectly welcome, this moment, to the free benefits

of the atoning work of Christ. Though thy sins be as scarlet; though

they be black as midnight, black as hell; though they rise like a

dreadful mountain before the vision of thy troubled soul, and threaten

to sink thee into eternal perdition; yet do these words shine with

divine and heavenly lustre on the page of inspiration, "_The blood of

Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from_ ALL _sin_" (I John i. 7).

But mark, friend, do not go on, week after week, mocking God, hardening

thine own heart, and carrying out the schemes of the great enemy of

Christ, by a false profession. This marks the damsel possessed by a

spirit of divination, and here her history links itself with the present

awful condition of Christendom. What was the burden of her song, during

those "many days" in the which the apostle narrowly considered her case?

"These men are the servants of the most high God, which _show unto us_

the way of salvation." But she was not saved--she was not delivered--she

was, all the while, under Satan's power herself.

Thus it is with Christendom--thus it is with each false professor

throughout the length and breadth of the professing Church. We know of

nothing, even in the deepest depths of moral evil, or in the darkest

shades of heathenism, more truly awful than the state of careless,

hardened, self-satisfied, fallow-ground professors, who on each

successive Lord's Day give utterance, either in their prayers or their

singing, to words which, so far as they are concerned, are wholly

false.

The thought of this is, at times, almost over-whelming. We cannot dwell

upon it. It is really too sorrowful. We shall therefore pass on, having

once more solemnly warned the reader against every shade and degree of

false profession. Let him not say or sing aught that he does not

heartily believe. The devil is at the bottom of all false profession,

and by means thereof he seeks to bring discredit on the work of the

Lord.

But how truly refreshing to contemplate the actings of the faithful

apostle in the case of the damsel. Had he been seeking his own ends, or

had he been merely a minister of religion, he might have welcomed her

words as a tributary stream to swell the tide of his popularity, or

promote the interest of his cause. But Paul was not a mere minister of

religion; he was a minister of Christ--a totally different thing. And we

may notice that the damsel does not say a word about Christ. She

breathes not the precious, peerless name of Jesus. There is total

silence as to Him. This stamps the whole thing as of Satan. "No man can

call Jesus Lord but by the Holy Ghost." People may speak of God, and of

religion; but Christ has no place in their hearts. The Pharisees, in the

ninth of John, could say to the poor man, "Give God the praise;" but in

speaking of Jesus, they could say, "This man is a sinner."

Thus it is ever in the case of corrupt religion, or false profession.

Thus it was with the damsel in Acts xvi. There was not a syllable about

Christ.

There was no truth, no life, no reality. It was hollow and false. It was

of Satan; and hence Paul would not and could not own it; he was grieved

with it and utterly rejected it.

Would that all were like him! Would that there were the singleness of

eye to detect, and the integrity of heart to reject the work of Satan in

much that is going on around us! Such an eye Paul, through grace,

possessed. He was not to be deceived. He saw that the whole affair was

an effort of Satan to mix himself up with the work, that thus he might

spoil it altogether. "But Paul, being grieved, turned and said to the

spirit, I command thee, in the name of Jesus Christ, to come out of her.

And he came out the same hour."

This was true spiritual action. Paul was not in any haste to come into

collision with the evil one, or even to pronounce upon the case at all;

he waited many days; but the very moment that the enemy was detected he

is resisted and repulsed with uncompromising decision. A less spiritual

workman might have allowed the thing to pass, under the idea that it

might turn to account and help forward the work. Paul thought

differently; and he was right. He would take no help from Satan. He was

not going to work by such an agency; and hence, in the name of Jesus

Christ--that name which the enemy so sedulously excluded--he puts Satan

to flight.

But no sooner was Satan repulsed as the serpent, than he assumed the

character of a lion. Craft having failed, he tried violence. "And when

her masters saw that the hope of their gains was gone, they caught Paul

and Silas and drew them into the market-place unto the rulers, and

brought them to the magistrates, saying, These men, being Jews, do

exceedingly trouble our city, and teach customs which are not lawful for

us to receive, neither to observe, being Romans. And the multitude rose

up together against them; and the magistrates rent off their clothes,

and commanded to beat them. And when they had laid many stripes upon

them, they cast them into prison, charging the jailor to keep them

safely" (vers. 19-23).

Thus the enemy seemed to triumph; but be it remembered that Christ's

warriors gain their most splendid victories by apparent defeat. The

devil made a great mistake when he cast the apostle into prison. Indeed

it is consolatory to reflect that he has never done anything else but

make mistakes, from the moment that he left his first estate down to the

present moment. His entire history, from beginning to end, is one tissue

of errors.

And thus, as has been already remarked, the devil made a great mistake

when he cast Paul into prison at Philippi. To nature's view it might

have seemed otherwise; but in the judgment of faith, the servant of

Christ was much more in his right place in prison for the truth's sake,

than outside at his Master's expense. True, Paul might have saved

himself. He might have been an honored man, owned and acknowledged as "a

servant of the most high God," if he had only accepted the damsel's

testimony, and suffered the devil to help him in his work. But he could

not do this, and hence he had to suffer. "And the multitude (ever fickle

and easily swayed) rose up together against them: and the magistrates

rent off their clothes, and commanded to beat them. And when they had

laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into prison, charging the

jailor to keep them safely. Who, having received such a charge, _thrust_

them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks"

(vers. 22-24).

Here, then, some might have said, was an end to the work of the

evangelist in the city of Philippi. Here was an effectual stop to the

preaching. Not so; the prison was the very place, at the moment, for the

evangelist. His work was there. He was to find a congregation within the

prison walls which he could not have found outside. But this leads us,

in the third and last place, to the case of

THE HARDENED SINNER.

It was very unlikely that the jailor would ever have found his way to

the prayer-meeting at the river side. He had little care for such

things. He was neither an earnest seeker, nor a deceiver. He was a

hardened sinner, pursuing a very hardening occupation. Jailors, from the

occupation of their office, are, generally speaking, hard and stern men.

No doubt there are exceptions. There are some tender-hearted men to be

found in such situations; but, as a rule, jailors are not tender. It

would hardly suit them to be so. They have to do with the very worst

class of society. Much of the crime of the whole country comes under

their notice; and many of the criminals come under their charge.

Accustomed to the rough and the coarse, they are apt to become rough and

coarse themselves.

Now, judging from the inspired narrative before us, we may well question

if the Philippian jailor was an exception to the general rule with

respect to men of his class. Certainly he does not seem to have shown

much tenderness to Paul and Silas. "He _thrust_ them into the _inner_

prison, and made their feet _fast_ in the stocks." He seems to have gone

to the utmost extreme in making them uncomfortable.

But God had rich mercy in store for that poor, hardened, cruel jailor;

and, as it was not at all likely that he would go to hear the gospel,

the Lord sent the gospel to him; and, moreover, He made the devil the

instrument of sending it. Little did the jailor know whom he was

thrusting into the inner prison--little did he anticipate what was to

happen ere another sun should rise. And we may add, little did the devil

think of what he was doing when he sent the preachers of the gospel into

jail, there to be the means of the jailor's conversion. But the Lord

Jesus Christ knew what He was about to do, in the case of a poor

hardened sinner. He can make the wrath of man to praise Him and restrain

the remainder.

"He everywhere hath sway,

And all things serve His might,

His ev'ry act pure blessing is,

His path unsullied light.

"When He makes bare His arm,

Who shall His work withstand?

When He His people's cause defends,

Who then shall stay His hand?"

It was His purpose to save the jailor; and so far from Satan's being

able to frustrate that purpose, he was actually made the instrument of

accomplishing it. "God's purpose shall stand; and He will do all His

pleasure." And where He sets His love upon a poor, wretched, guilty

sinner, He will have him in heaven, spite of all the malice and rage of

hell.

As to Paul and Silas, it is very evident that they were in their right

place in the prison. They were there _for the truth's sake_, and

therefore _the Lord was with them_. Hence they were perfectly happy.

What, though they were confined within the gloomy walls of the prison,

with their feet made fast in the stocks, prison walls could not confine

their spirits. Nothing can hinder the joy of one who has the Lord with

him. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, were happy in the fiery furnace.

Daniel was happy in the lions' den; and Paul and Silas were happy in the

dungeon of Philippi: "And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang

praises to God: and the prisoners heard them."

What sounds to issue from the inner prison! We may safely say that no

such sounds had ever issued thence before. Curses and execrations and

blasphemous words might have been heard; sighs, cries, and groans come

forth from those walls. But to hear the accents of prayer and praise,

ascending at the midnight hour, must have seemed strange indeed. Faith

can sing as sweetly in a dungeon as at a prayer-meeting. It matters not

where we are, provided always that we have God with us. His presence

lights up the darkest cell, and turns a dungeon into the very gate of

heaven. He can make His servants happy anywhere, and give them victory

over the most adverse circumstances, and cause them to shout for joy in

scenes where nature would be overwhelmed with sorrow.

But the Lord had His eye upon the jailor. He had written his name in the

Lamb's book of life before the foundation of the world, and He was now

about to lead him into the full joy of His salvation. "And suddenly

there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were

shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one's bands

were loosed" (ver. 26).

Now if Paul had not been in full communion with the mind and heart of

Christ, he would assuredly have turned to Silas and said, "Now is the

moment for us to make our escape. God has most manifestly appeared for

us, and set before us an open door. If ever there was an opening of

divine Providence surely this is one." But no; Paul knew better. He was

in the full current of His blessed Master's thoughts, and in full

sympathy with his Master's heart. Hence he made no attempt to escape.

The claims of _truth_ had brought him into prison; the activities of

_grace_ kept him there. Providence opened the door; but faith refused to

walk out. People talk of being guided by Providence; but if Paul had

been so guided, the jailor would never have been a jewel in his crown.

"And the keeper of the prison awaking out of his sleep and seeing the

prison doors open, he drew out his sword, and would have killed himself,

supposing that the prisoners had been fled" (ver. 27). This proves, very

plainly, that the earthquake, with all its attendant circumstances, had

not touched the heart of the jailor. He naturally supposed, when he saw

the doors open, that the prisoners were all gone. He could not imagine a

number of prisoners sitting quietly in jail when the doors lay open and

their chains were loosed. And then what was to become of him if the

prisoners were gone? How could he face the authorities? Impossible.

Anything but that. Death, even by his own hand, was preferable to that.

Thus the devil had conducted this hardened sinner to the very brink of

the precipice, and he was about to give him the final and fatal push

over the edge, and down to the eternal flames of hell; when lo, a voice

of love sounded in his ear. It was the voice of Jesus through the lips

of His servant--a voice of tender and deep compassion--"_Do thyself no

harm_."

This was irresistible. A hardened sinner could meet an earthquake; he

could meet death itself; but he could not withstand the mighty melting

power of love. The hardest heart must yield to the moral influence of

love. "Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and came _trembling_,

and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, and said,

Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" Love can break the hardest heart. And

surely there was love in those words, "Do thyself no harm," coming from

the lips of one to whom he had done so much harm a few hours before.

And, be it noted, there was not a single syllable of reproach, or even

of reflection, uttered by Paul to the jailor. This was Christ-like. It

was the way of divine grace. If we look through the Gospels, we never

find the Lord casting reproach upon the sinner. He has tears of sorrow;

He has touching words of grace and tenderness; but no reproaches--no

reflections--no reproach to the poor distressed sinner. We cannot

attempt to furnish the many illustrations and proofs of this assertion;

but the reader has only to turn to the gospel story to see its truth.

Look at the prodigal: look at the thief. Not one reproving word to

either.

Thus it is in every case; and thus it was with God's Spirit in Paul. Not

a word about the harsh treatment--the thrusting into the inner

prison--not a word about the stocks. "Do thyself no harm." And then,

"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy

house."

Such is the rich and precious grace of God. It shines, in this scene,

with uncommon lustre. It delights in taking up hardened sinners, melting

and subduing their hard hearts, and leading them into the sunlight of a

full salvation; and all this in a style peculiar to itself. Yes, God has

His style of doing things, blessed be His name; and when He saves a

wretched sinner, He does it after such a fashion as fully proves that

His whole heart is in the work. It is His joy to save a sinner--even the

very chief--and He does it in a way worthy of Himself.

And now, let us look at the fruit of all this. The jailor's conversion

was most unmistakable. Saved from the very brink of hell, he was brought

into the very atmosphere of heaven. Preserved from self-destruction, he

was brought into the circle of God's salvation; and the evidences of

this were as clear as could be desired. "And they spake unto him the

word of the Lord, and to all that were in his house. And he took them

the same hour of the night, and washed their stripes; and was baptized,

he and all his straightway. And when he had brought them into his house,

he set meat before them, and rejoiced, _believing in God, with all his

house_."

What a marvelous change! The ruthless jailor has become the generous

host! "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature; old things are

passed away: behold, all things are become new." How clearly we can now

see that Paul was right in not being guided by _providences_! How much

better and higher to be led by the "eye" of God! What an eternal loss

it would have proved to him had he walked out at the open door! How much

better to be conducted out by the very hand that had thrust him in--a

hand once the instrument of cruelty and sin, now the instrument of

righteousness and love! What a magnificent triumph! What a scene,

altogether! How little had the devil anticipated such a result from the

imprisonment of the Lord's servants! He was thoroughly outwitted. The

tables were completely turned upon him. He thought to hinder the gospel,

and, behold! he was made to help it on. He had hoped to get rid of two

of Christ's servants, and, lo! he lost one of his own. Christ is

stronger than Satan; and all who put their trust in Him and move in the

current of His thoughts shall most assuredly share in the triumphs of

His grace now, and shine in the brightness of His glory forever.

Thus much, then, as to "the work of an evangelist." Such are the scenes

through which he may have to pass--such the cases with which he may have

to come in contact. We have seen the earnest seeker satisfied; the

deceiver silenced; the hardened sinner saved. May all who go forth with

the gospel of the grace of God know how to deal with the various types

of character that may cross their path! May many be raised up to do the

work of an evangelist!

FOOTNOTES:

[XXV.] The reader will notice that in Matthew vi. I, the marginal

reading is the correct one: "Take heed that ye do not your

_righteousness_ before men, to be seen of them." Then we have the three

departments of this righteousness, namely, alms-giving (ver. 2); prayer

(ver. 3); fasting (ver. 16). These were the very things Cornelius was

doing. In short, he feared God, and was working righteousness, according

to his measure of light.

[XXVI.] [An evangelist will not travel far in our day to find persons

who will take him warmly by the hand, and profess lively interest in his

work. A moment's intercourse with them, however, will disclose them to

be agents of "Christian Science," of "Millennial Dawn" of "Seventh Day

Adventism" or of some one or other of like systems--messengers of Satan,

all professing Christianity, though in reality destroyers of it; pluming

themselves with its name, only to get inside and work destruction the

more easily. ED.]

CHAPTER IV.

LETTERS TO AN EVANGELIST.

DEAREST A----,

I have been much interested, and I trust profited, of late, by tracing,

through the Gospels and the Acts, the various notices of the work of

evangelization; and it has occured to me that it may not be amiss to

present to you, as one much occupied in the blessed work, a few of the

thoughts that have suggested themselves to my mind. I shall feel myself

much more free in this way, than if I were writing a formal treatise.

And, first of all, I have been greatly struck with the simplicity with

which the work of evangelizing was carried on in primitive times; so

very unlike a great deal of what obtains among us. It seems to me that

we moderns are quite too much hampered by conventional rules--too much

fettered by the habits of Christendom. We are sadly deficient in what I

may call spiritual elasticity. We are apt to think that in order to

evangelize there must be a special gift; and even where there is this

special gift, there must be a great deal of machinery and human

arrangement. When we speak of doing the work of an evangelist, we, for

the most part, have before our minds great public halls, and crowded

audiences, for which there is a demand for considerable gift and power

for speaking.

Now you and I thoroughly believe, that in order to preach the gospel

publicly, there must be a special gift from the Head of the Church; and,

moreover, we believe according to Eph. iv. 11, that Christ has given,

and does still give, "evangelists." This is clear, if we are to be

guided by Scripture. But I find in the Gospels, and in the Acts of the

Apostles, that a quantity of most blessed evangelistic work was done by

persons who were not specially gifted at all, but who had an earnest

love for souls, and a deep sense of the preciousness of Christ and His

salvation. And, what is more, I find in those who were specially gifted,

called, and appointed by Christ to preach the gospel, a simplicity,

freedom, and naturalness in their mode of working, which I greatly covet

for myself and for all my brethren.

Let us look a little into Scripture. Take that lovely scene in John i.

36-45. John pours out his heart in testimony to Jesus: "Behold the Lamb

of God!" His soul was absorbed with the glorious Object. What was the

result? "Two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus." What

then? "One of the two which heard John speak, and followed Him, was

Andrew, Simon Peter's brother." And what does he do? "_He first findeth

his own brother_ Simon, and saith unto him, We have found the Messias,

which is, being interpreted, the Christ. And he brought him to Jesus."

Again, "The day following, Jesus would go forth into Galilee, and

findeth Philip, and saith unto him, Follow Me.... _Philip findeth

Nathanael_, and saith unto him, We have found Him, of whom Moses in the

law, and the prophets, did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of

Joseph.... _Come and see._"

Here then, dearest A., is the style of thing for which I earnestly long:

this individual work, this laying hold of the first man that comes in

our way, this finding one's own brother, and bringing him to Jesus. I do

feel we are deficient in this. It is all right enough to gather

congregations, and address them, as God gives ability and opportunity.

Neither you nor I would pen a single word to detract from the value of

such a line of work. By all means hire rooms, halls, and theatres; put

out bills inviting people to come; leave no lawful means untried to

spread the gospel. Seek to get at souls as best you can. Far be it from

me to cast a damp upon any who are seeking to carry on the work in this

public way.

But does it not strike you that we want more of the individual work?

more of the private, earnest, personal dealing with souls? Do you not

think that if we had more "Philips" we should have more "Nathanaels?" If

we had more "Andrews," we should have more "Simons?" I cannot but

believe it. There is amazing power in an earnest personal appeal. Do you

not often find that it is after the more formal public preaching is

finished, and the close personal work begins, that souls are reached?

How is it then that there is so little of this latter? Does it not often

happen at our public preachings, that when the formal address is

delivered, a hymn sung, and a word of prayer offered, all disperse

without any attempt at individual work? I speak not now, mark you, of

the preacher--who cannot possibly reach every case, but of the scores of

Christians who have been listening to him. They have seen strangers

enter the room, they have sat beside them; they have, it may be, noticed

their interest, seen the tear stealing down the cheek; and yet they have

let them pass away without a single loving effort to reach them, or to

follow up the good work.

No doubt it may be said, "It is much better to allow the Spirit of God

to follow up His own work. We may do more harm than good. And besides,

people do not like to be spoken to: they will look upon it as an

impertinent intrusion, and they will be driven away from the place

altogether." There is considerable weight in all this. I fully

appreciate it; and I am sure you do likewise, dearest A. I fear great

blunders are committed by injudicious persons intruding upon the sacred

privacy of the soul's deep and holy exercises. It needs tact and

judgment; in short, it needs direct spiritual guidance to be able to

deal with souls; to know whom to speak to, and what to say.

But allowing all this, as we do in the fullest possible manner, I think

you will agree with me that there is, as a rule, something lacking in

connection with our public preachings. Is there not a want of that deep,

personal, loving interest in souls which will express itself in a

thousand ways that act powerfully on the heart? I confess that I have

often been pained by what has come under my own notice in our

preaching-rooms. Strangers come in and are left to find a seat wherever

they can. No one seems to think of them. Christians are there, and they

will hardly move to make room for them. No one offers them a Bible or

hymn-book. And when the preaching is over, they are allowed to go as

they came; not a loving word of inquiry as to whether they enjoyed the

truth preached; not even a kindly look which might win confidence and

invite conversation. On the contrary, there is a chilling reserve,

amounting almost to repulsiveness.

All this is very sorrowful; and perhaps you will tell me that I am

drawing too highly colored a picture. Alas! the picture is only too

true. And what makes it all the more deplorable is, that one knows as a

fact that many persons frequent our preaching-rooms and lecture-halls in

the deepest exercise, and they are only longing to open their hearts to

some one who could offer them a little spiritual counsel; but through

timidity, reserve, or nervousness, they shrink from making any advance,

and have but to retire to their homes and to their bedchambers, lonely

and sad, there to weep in solitude because no man cares for their

precious souls. Now I feel persuaded that much of this might be remedied

if those Christians who attend the gospel preachings were more _on the

look out_ for souls: if they would attend, not so much for their own

profit, as in order to be co-workers with God, in seeking to bring souls

to Jesus. No doubt it is very refreshing to Christians to hear the

gospel fully and faithfully preached. But it would not be the less

refreshing because they were intensely interested in the conversion of

souls, and in earnest prayer to God in the matter. And, besides, it

could in no wise interfere with their personal enjoyment and profit to

cultivate and manifest a lively and loving interest in those who

surround them, and to seek at the close of the meeting to help any who

may need and desire to be helped. It has a surprising effect upon the

preacher, upon the preaching, upon the whole meeting, when the

Christians who attend are really entering into, and discharging, their

high and holy responsibilities to Christ and to souls. It imparts a

certain tone and creates a certain atmosphere which must be felt in

order to be understood; but when once felt it cannot easily be dispensed

with.

But, alas, how often is it otherwise! How cold, how dull, how

dispiriting is it at times to see the whole congregation clear out the

moment the preaching is over! No loving, lingering groups gathering

round young converts or anxious inquirers. Old experienced Christians

have been present; but, instead of pausing with the fond hope that God

would graciously use them to speak a word in season to him that is

weary, they hasten away as though it were a matter of life and death

that they should be home at a certain hour.

Do not suppose, dearest A., that I wish to lay down rules for my

brethren. Far be the thought.

I am merely, in the freest possible manner, pouring out the thoughts of

my heart to one with whom I have been linked in the work of the gospel

for many years. I feel convinced there is a something lacking. It is my

firm persuasion that no Christian is in a right condition, if he is not

seeking in some way to bring souls to Christ. And, on the same

principle, no assembly of Christians is in a right condition if it be

not a thoroughly evangelistic assembly. We should all be on the lookout

for souls; and then we may rest assured we should see soul-stirring

results. But if we are satisfied to go on from week to week, month to

month, and year to year, without a single leaf stirring, without a

single conversion, our state must be truly lamentable.

But I think I hear you saying, "Where is all the Scripture we were to

have had? where the many quotations from the Gospels and the Acts?"

Well, I have gone on jotting down the thoughts which have for some

considerable time occupied my mind; and now, space forbids my going

further at present. But if you so desire, I shall write you a second

letter on the subject. Meanwhile, may the Lord, by His Spirit, make us

more earnest in seeking the salvation of immortal souls, by every

legitimate agency. May our hearts be filled with genuine love for

precious souls, and then we shall be sure to find ways and means of

getting at them!

Ever, believe me, dearest A., Your deeply affectionate yoke-fellow, * * *

LETTER II.

There is one point in connection with our subject which has much

occupied my mind; and that is, the immense importance of cultivating an

earnest faith in the presence and action of the Holy Ghost. We want to

remember, at all times, that we can do nothing, and that God the Holy

Ghost can do all. It holds good in the great work of evangelization, as

in all beside, that it is "not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit,

saith the Lord of hosts." The abiding sense of this would keep us

humble, and yet full of joyful confidence. Humble, because we can do

nothing; full of joyful confidence, because God can do all. Moreover, it

would have the effect of keeping us very sober and quiet in our

work--not cold and indifferent, but calm and serious, which is a great

matter just now. I was much struck with a remark lately made by an aged

workman, in a letter to one who had just entered the field.

"Excitement," says this writer, "is not power, but weakness. Earnestness

and energy are of God."

This is most true and most valuable. But I like the two sentences taken

together. If we were to take either apart, I think you and I would

prefer the latter; and for this reason: there are many, I fear, who

would regard as "excitement" what you and I might really consider to be

"earnestness and energy." Now I do confess, I love a deep-toned

earnestness in the work. I do not see how a man can be otherwise than

deeply and thoroughly in earnest, who realizes in any measure the

awfulness of eternity, and the state of all those who die in their sins.

How is it possible for any one to think of an immortal soul standing on

the very brink of hell, and in danger at any moment of being dashed

over, and not be serious and earnest?

But this is not excitement. What I understand by excitement is the

working up of mere nature, and the putting forth of such efforts of

nature as are designed to work on the natural feelings--all high

pressure--all that is merely sensational. This is all worthless. It is

evanescent. And not only so, but it superinduces weakness. We never find

aught of this in the ministry of our blessed Lord or His apostles: and

yet what earnestness! what untiring energy! what tenderness! We see an

earnestness which wore the appearance of being beside oneself; an energy

which hardly afforded a moment for rest or refreshment; and a tenderness

which could weep over impenitent sinners. All this we see; but no

excitement. In a word, all was the fruit of the Eternal Spirit; and all

was to the glory of God. Moreover, there was ever that calmness and

solemnity which becomes the presence of God, and yet that deep

earnestness which proved that man's serious condition was fully

realized.

Now, dear brother, this is precisely what we want, and what we ought

diligently to cultivate. It is a signal mercy to be kept from all

merely natural excitement; and, at the same time, to be duly impressed

with the magnitude and solemnity of the work. Thus the mind will be kept

properly balanced, and we shall be preserved from the tendency to be

occupied with _our_ work merely because it is ours. We shall rejoice

that Christ is magnified, and souls are saved, whoever be the instrument

used.

I have been thinking a good deal lately of that memorable time, now

exactly ten years ago, when the Spirit of God wrought so marvelously in

the province of Ulster. I think I gathered up some valuable instruction

from what then came under my notice. That was a time never to be

forgotten by those who were privileged to be eyewitnesses of the

magnificent wave of blessing which rolled over the land. But I now refer

to it in connection with the subject of the Spirit's action. I have no

doubt whatever that the Holy Ghost was grieved and hindered in the year

1859, by man's interference. You remember how that work began. You

remember the little school-house by the road side, where two or three

men met, week after week, to pour out their hearts in prayer to God,

that He would be pleased to break in upon the death and darkness which

reigned around: and that He would revive His work, and send out His

light and His truth in converting power. You know how these prayers were

heard and answered. You and I were privileged to move through these

soul-stirring scenes in the province of Ulster; and I doubt not the

memory of them is fresh with you, as it is with me, this day.