I have suggested in an earlier part of this sermon that possibly the
application of this text originally was to the scattered remnant. Be
that as it may, wherever you go, you find the Jew and the Englishman. I
need not dwell upon the ubiquity of our race. I need not point you to
the fact that, in all probability, our language is destined to be the
world's language some day. I need do nothing more than recall the fact
that a man may go on board ship, in Liverpool or London, and go round
the world; everywhere he sees the Union Jack, and everywhere he lands
upon British soil. The ubiquity of the scattered Englishman needs no
illustration.
But I do wish to remind you that that ubiquity has its obligation. We
hear a great deal to-day about Imperialism, about 'the Greater Britain,'
about 'the expansion of England.' And on one side all that new
atmosphere of feeling is good, for it speaks of a vivid consciousness
which is all to the good in the pulsations of the national life. But
there is another side to it that is not so good. What is the expansion
sought for? Trade? Yes! necessarily; and no man who lives in Lancashire
will speak lightly of that necessity. Vulgar greed, and earth-hunger?
_that_ is evil. Glory? that is cruel, blood-stained, empty. My text
tells us why expansion should be sought, and what are the obligations it
brings with it. 'The remnant of Jacob shall be in the midst of many
people as a dew from the Lord' There are two kinds of Imperialism: one
which regards the Empire as a thing for the advantage of us here, in
this little land, and another which regards it as a burden that God has
laid on the shoulders of the men whom John Milton, two centuries ago,
was not afraid to call 'His Englishmen.'
Let me remind you of two contrasted pictures which will give far more
forcibly than anything I can say, the two points of view from which our
world-wide dominion may be regarded. Here is one of them: 'By the
strength of my hand I have done it, and by my wisdom, for I am prudent.
And I have removed the bounds of the people, and have robbed their
treasures, and my hand hath found as a nest the riches of the people;
and as one gathereth eggs that are left, have I gathered all the earth;
and there was none that moved a wing, or opened a mouth, or peeped.'
That is the voice of the lust for Empire for selfish advantages. And
here is the other one: 'The kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall
bring presents; yea, all kings shall fall down before Him; all nations
shall serve Him, for He shall deliver the needy when he crieth, the poor
also, and him that hath no helper. He shall redeem their soul from
deceit and violence, and precious shall their blood be in His sight.'
That is the voice that has learned: 'He that is greatest among you, let
him be your servant'; and that the dominion founded on unselfish
surrender for others is the only dominion that will last. Brethren! that
is the spirit in which alone England will keep its Empire over the
world.
I need not remind you that the gift which we have to carry to the
heathen nations, the subject peoples who are under the ægis of our laws,
is not merely our literature, our science, our Western civilisation,
still less the products of our commerce, for all of which some of them
are asking; but it is _the_ gift that they do _not_ ask for. The dew
'waiteth not for man, nor tarrieth for the sons of men.' We have to
create the demand by bringing the supply. We have to carry Christ's
Gospel as the greatest gift that we have in our hands.
And now, I was going to have said a word, lastly, but I see it can only
be a word, about--