I. A MINISTRY CONSCIOUSLY AUTHORISED BY GOD. The pledge of our soldiership, the credentials of our ambassage, are to be found chiefly within us, not without and around,

II. MINISTRY AFFECTIONATELY ADDRESSED TO ALL. The true ministry never seeks to limit its love to one Church, or to square its sympathies to one sect. No scattering, either of denomination or distance, hinders the desire that all may be taught, comforted, sanctified, saved.

III. A MINISTRY OCCASIONALLY WROUGHT BY WRITING. Some things are noticeable about the ministry of writing as compared with that of speech.

1. It is wider in its scope.

2. It is more permanent in its form.

3. It is frequently more easily discharged. Parents, friends, all who write to dear and most distant ones, can discharge a ministry thus.

(U. R. Thomas.)

The world is full of servants of one kind and another.

1. Many are servants through the force of their worldly position.

2. Through the weakness of their intellectual and moral natures.

3. Through the dominant force of an evil passion.

4. Through their effort to pursue a Christly method of life.By striving to bring our daily life into conformity with the Saviour's, by endeavouring to become pure in our nature, spiritual in our ideas, reverent in our dispositions, and unselfish in our activities, we enter upon the highest service of which a human soul is capable.

I. IT IS SERVICE DEDICATED TO THE SUPREME BEING OF THE UNIVERSE: "James, a servant of God."

1. It is a service dedicated to God.

2. It is a service dedicated to the only Saviour of mankind: "And of the Lord Jesus Christ."

3. This service requires the divinest attitudes and truest activities of our moral nature. It must be —

(1)Sincere in its motives.

(2)Pure in its effort.

(3)Willing in its obedience.

(4)Eternal in its duration. The moral relationships of the soul are deeper and more enduring than any other.

4. This service confers the highest dignity upon the moral nature of man.

5. This service presses itself upon our moral nature with the most emphatic claims.

(1)That God is our Creator.

(2)That Christ is our Saviour.

II. IT IS A SERVICE DIRECTED TO TSHE MORAL CONSOLATION AND INSTRUCTION OF THE SORROWFUL.

1. James recognises the sorrowful condition and painful circumstances of those to whom he wrote.

2. The service of James was rendered effective by the ministry of the pen,

III. IT IS A SERVICE INTENSE IN ITS CONVICTION AND PERSONAL IN ITS REALISATION: "James."

IV. IT IS A SERVICE MOST JUBILANT IN ITS INSPIRATION: "Greeting."

1. It is jubilant because united to the highest source of joy and hope.

2. Because it has to console the world's sorrow.

3. Are we all engaged in this service?

(Joseph S. Exell, M. A.)

Men are the servants of God either generally or particularly. Generally, they are all the servants of Jesus Christ whosoever profess His religion and promise their service unto Him in the general calling of a Christian. Specially, they are called the servants of God and of Christ who in some chief calling do homage unto God and promote His kingdom. So princes in commonwealths, preachers and ministers in the Church of Christ, are servants of God and of Christ in special service. It we were princes, prelates, angels, yet this is the height of all glory, to rejoice in the service of Christ. Who are we, and what are our fathers' houses, who can imagine greater glory than to be servants unto Christ?

1. Now, this name of servant must teach us humility, that we submit ourselves to Christ, whose servants we are, and for His sake and by His example to serve one another, whereunto He exhorteth (Matthew 20:25-27); whereunto His example in washing His disciples' feet serveth (John 13:4-7, 10, 17). Submit yourselves one to another, deck yourselves inwardly in lowliness of mind, for God resisteth the proud and giveth grace to the humble. Hereof our profession and calling putteth us in remembrance, who are servants by calling, to serve God in spirit and truth, and to serve one another in the fear of God.

2. By our service we are furthermore taught what we owe unto Christ Jesus our Lord, even all service, which is the end of our redemption and cleansing by Christ from our sins (Luke 1:74, 75). Let us, then, in the fear of God, confess Him with our mouths, praise Him with our tongues, believe Him with our hearts, glorify Him in our works, and in all things serve Him as it becometh us; for —

(1)He hath made us, and not we ourselves;

(2)He hath redeemed us, not with corruptible things, as silver and gold, but by His own blood;

(3)He sayeth us from death and delivereth us from peril and trouble;

(4)He advanceth us to glory.

3. Servants ought to imitate such virtues as they find to shine in their masters. We are the servants of Christ; we are bound, therefore, to imitate His meekness, patience, humility, love, long-sufferance, liberality, kindness, forgiveness of offences, and the like virtues, which shone in the whole life of Jesus Christ.

4. Servants must attend upon their masters' will, wait their leisures, rely upon their care for them, seek all necessaries at their hands; so we, the servants of Christ, must do His will in all things, wait His leisure patiently for our deliverance, depend upon His provided care, and in all our necessities have recourse to Him by prayer.

5. That St. James entitleth himself the "servant of Christ," he doth not only intimate that he was the servant, the minister and ambassador of Jesus Christ, the Prince of all the princes of the earth, but also giveth us to understand how carefully he had executed that office unto him committed; and if we diligent]y peruse the writings of the apostles we shall find them no less, in consideration of their faithfulness, in performing their duties, than in regard of their high callings, to have termed themselves the servants of Christ.

6. In that he calleth himself the "servant of Christ" he teacheth us that as many as will be the true servants of Christ must addict themselves wholly unto His service, because no man can serve two masters, God and Mammon, Christ and Belial.

7. That he professeth in open writing that he was the servant of Jesus Christ, and that in those dangerous days when wickedness flourished and Christian religion was persecuted: it teacheth God's saints that they must never be ashamed to confess Jesus Christ.

(R. Turnbull.)

James is not only God's servant by the right of creation and providence, but Christ's servant by the right of redemption; yea, especially deputed by Christ as Lord, that is, as mediator and head of the Church, to do Him service in the way of an apostle; and I suppose there is some special reason for this disjunction, "a servant of God and of Christ," to show his countrymen that in serving Christ he served the God of his fathers, as Paul pleaded (Acts 26:6, 7), that in standing for Christ he did but stand for "the hope of the promise made unto the fathers, unto which promise the twelve tribes, serving God day and night, hope to come."

(T. Manton.)

James, the Lord's kinsman, calls himself the Lord's" servant." Inward privileges are the best and most honourable, and spiritual kin is to be preferred before carnal.

(T. Manton.)

1. The truest relation to Christ is founded in grace, and we are far happier in receiving Him by faith than in touching Him by blood; and he that endeavours to do His will may be as sure of Christ's love as if he were linked to Him by the nearest outward relations.

2. It is no dishonour to the highest to be Christ's servant. James, whom Paul calls "a pillar," calls himself "a servant of Christ"; and David, a king, says (Psalm 84:10).

3. The highest in repute and office in the Church yet are still but servants.

4. In all services we must honour the Father and the Son also (John 5:23). Do duties so as you may honour Christ in them; and so —(1) Look for their acceptance in Christ. Oh! it would be sad if we were only to look to God the Father in duties. But now it is said that "in Christ we have access with boldness and confidence" (Ephesians 3:12), for in Him those attributes which are in themselves terrible become comfortable; as water, which is salt in the ocean, being strained through the earth, becometh sweet in the rivers, that in God which, out of Christ, striketh terror into the soul, in Christ begets a confidence.(2) Look for your assistance from Him. You serve God in Christ —

(a)When you serve God through Christ (Philippians 4:13).

(b)When you have an eye to the concernments of Christ in all your service of God (2 Corinthians 5:15).

(c)When all is done for Christ's sake (2 Corinthians 5:14).

(T. Manton.)

He makes no mention of his apostleship. The explanation may be that it was not called in question, and so did not require to be vindicated or asserted. This title may have been a kind of official designation, indicative, not only of his personal character, but also of his ministerial calling, or it may simply have been expressive of his devotion to the work and will of God in common with all His true people. In either case it was of a simple, unassuming description. He comes down to a level with the rest of his brethren. He claims no distinction but what the whole of them, in substance, possess (Psalm 116:16). And yet, while in this respect low, in another how high the title here taken! We never can get beyond it; no, not in a state of glory — not when at the perfection of our being. No creature, not even the archangel nearest the throne, can climb higher; nor does he desire. It is said of the redeemed inhabitants of the new Jerusalem, "His servants shall serve Him." "And of the Lord Jesus Christ." Here comes in the distinctively Christian element. The Old Testament saints might be, and often were, honoured by being called "the servants of God." James had much of the spirit which animated these ancestral worthies. In his character and habits he resembled one of the ancient priests or prophets. But by what he thus added he marked out himself and his fellow-disciples from all who preceded. The two parts were perfectly consistent, the two masters but one in reality.

(John Adam.)

This title conveys more than the general notion of one who believes in and obeys God and the Lord Jesus Christ. The call he had received, the mission and special field of labour assigned him, are also embodied in the term. It is equivalent to the "servant of the Lord" of the Old Testament, a designation with which only a few of the members of the Hebrew Church were honoured, who were raised up by God for some specific work: the founding of a covenant, as in the case of Abraham and Moses: the inaugurating of some step in advance, or the introduction of some new phase or development of the system, as in the case of Joshua, David, and Zerubbabel. Thus St. James had a special service entrusted to him, which appears in this very Epistle to have been to make an appeal to a particular section of his brethren.

(F. T. Basett, M. A.)

If any modern teacher were to sign himself "a servant of God and of Calvin," or "of Arminius," should we not shrink as from a wanton blasphemy, and charge him with having spoken of a mere man as though he were "the fellow of the Lord of hosts"? Judge, then, what James meant when ha described.himself as equally bound to the service of Jesus and of God.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

What scattering or dispersion is here intended?

1. Either that which was occasioned by their ancient captivities, and the frequent changes of nations, for so there were some Jews that still lived abroad, supposed to be intended in that expression, "Will he go to the dispersed among the Gentiles?" (John 7:35). Or —

2. More lately by the persecution spoken of in the eighth of the Acts. Or —

3. By the hatred of Claudius, who commanded all the Jews to depart from Rome (Acts 18:2). And it is probable that the like was done in other great cities. The Jews, and amongst them the Christians, being everywhere cast out, as John out of Ephesus, and others out of Alexandria. Or —

4. Some voluntary dispersion, the Hebrews living here and there among the Gentiles a little before the declension and ruin of their state, some in Cilicia, some in Pontus, &c.

(T. Manton.)

God looks after His afflicted servants: He moveth James to write to the scattered tribes: the care of heaven flourisheth towards you when you wither.

(T. Manton.)

James had in view Jews, not simply as such, but as Christians; that is, believers of his own nation. They were his special charge; and that it was to them he now wrote, is evident from the nature and design of the Epistle. They were the true Israel. They were the seed of Abraham, not after the flesh only, but also after the Spirit. They were the proper representatives of the holy nation; and as such may have been indicated by the language here used. While they were directly addressed, the Gentile converts were not excluded, for they formed with them one Church and community. Nor did the apostle fail to make most pointed references to the state of things among their antichristian brethren — a state of things by which they were more or less injuriously affected. Their outward condition, as thus scattered abroad, was a kind of reflection of the spiritual condition of God's people in all lands and ages. They are strangers and sojourners on the earth; they are wanderers, wayfarers, at a distance from home, and engaged in seeking a country. They are citizens of heaven; their Father's house and native land are there; their inheritance and their hearts are not below, but above. Their present state is one of dispersion.

(John Adam.)

The pilgrim troops of the law became caravans of the gospel.

(C. Wordsworth.)

When Hebrew met Hebrew, the one saluted the other with "Peace to you"; for they had learned that the real blessedness of life was to be at peace with all the world, themselves, and God. But when Greek met Greek, the one saluted the other with "Joy to you," the Greeks being lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of peace. Of course, when they used this salutation, they did not always recognise its full meaning, any more than we, when we say, "Good-bye," always remember that the word means, that it is a contraction of, "God be with you" But St. James both compels his readers to think of its meaning, by continuing, "Count it all joy when ye fall into manifold trials," and at once proceeds to put a higher, a Christian, meaning into the heathen salutation. His joy, the joy he wishes them, is not that pleasant exhilaration which results from gratified senses or tastes of which the Greeks were conscious when things went to their mind; nor that heightened and happy consciousness of the sweetness of life which they held to be the supreme good. It was rather the "peace" for which the Hebrew sighed; bat that peace intensified into a Divine gladness, elevated into a pure and sacred delight. It was the joy which springs from being restored to our true relations to God and man, from having all the conflicting passions, powers, and aims of the soul drawn into a happy accord. It was that fine spiritual essence which radiates new vigour and delight through all the faculties and affections of nature when we stay ourselves no longer on the changeful phenomena of time, but on the sacred and august realities of eternity. A peace all shot through and through with the rich exhilarating hues of gladness, this was the "joy" which St. James invoked on the twelve tribes of the Dispersion.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

This positive injunction of the Christian ethics may seem too difficult, if not impossible to be obeyed. And even if the natural repugnance to suffering can be vanquished, the moral sense still shrinks from what is here commanded, to rejoice in temptation. The paradox is not to be removed by violently changing the established meaning of the word, which never means affliction simply, but in every case conveys the idea of a moral trial, or a test of character. A temptation, to which patience is the proper antidote, must be specifically a temptation to impatience, a rebellious temper, to which we are tempted by a state of suffering. We must, therefore, understand the words as having reference to those providential trials of men's faith and patience in which they are rather passive than active, and under which their appropriate duty is not so much resistance as submission. But even these trials and temptations are not to be sought for or solicited. It is not the mere name, or pretence, or some infinitesimal degree of joy, that believers under trial are to exercise, but "all joy" as opposed to none, and to too little, and to every kind of counterfeit. So far from repining when you fall into divers trials, "count it all joy." But as we know, both from Scripture and experience, that no "chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous, and that afterward (ὕστερον) it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness to them which are exercised thereby" (Hebrews 12:11). This is perfectly consistent with the form of expression (ὃταν περιπέσητε) which might even be translated to mean "when" or "after," "ye have fallen into divers trials." This precise determination of the time at which the joy is to be exercised, as not the time of actual endurance, much less that of previous expectation, but rather that of subsequent reflection — I mean subsequent, if not to the whole trial, yet at least to its inception — this may throw some light on two points. The first is the paradoxical aspect of the exhortation to rejoice in that which necessarily involves pain and suffering. The paradox, to say the least, may seem less startling if we understand the text as calling upon men to rejoice, not that they are suffering, or while they suffer, although even this does not transcend the limits of experience, as we know from the triumphant joy of martyrs at the stake, and of many a lowlier believer on his death-bed, but that they have suffered, that it has pleased God, without their own concurrence, to afford them the occasion of attesting their fidelity, and submission to His will. The other point on which the same consideration may throw some light, is the choice of an expression which, although it primarily signifies no more than moral trial or a test of character, in general usage does undoubtedly denote a positive solicitation to do wrong. For even in this worst sense of temptation, it may be a subject of rejoicing, not beforehand, no, nor in the very crisis of the spiritual conflict; but when that is past, looking back upon the fearful risk which has been escaped, not merely with gratitude for its deliverance, but with unaffected joy that there was such a risk to be delivered from, because it has now, served to magnify God's grace, and at the same time to attest its own fidelity. Just as the soldier, who would have been guilty of the grossest rashness, if he had deliberately thrown himself into the way of a superior enemy, may — when unexpectedly surrounded and attacked, he has heroically cut his way through — rejoice, not only in his safety, but in the very danger which compelled him to achieve it. But the joy experienced in the case before us is not merely retrospective, but prospective also. It is not an ignorant or blind joy, but is founded in knowledge, not only of the principles on which men ought to act, but of the consequences which may be expected from a certain course of action or of suffering. The trials or temptations of the Christian are the test of his faith, both in the strict and comprehensive sense. They put to the proof his trust in God, his belief of a hat God says, of what He promises. But in so doing, they afford the surest test of his whole religious character. Specific trust in God's veracity and faithfulness cannot be an insulated act, or habit. It must have its causes and effects homogeneous to itself in the man's creed, in his heart, in his life. But it does not merely furnish present evidence of faith. It produces a permanent effect upon the character. It generates a habit of patient endurance in the way of God's commandments, For of patience, as of faith, it may be said that it cannot stand alone, independently of other graces of Christian character. The principle of active and passive obedience is the same. He who will not do God's will cannot endure it in a Christian spirit. He can only endure it in the way of punishment. Evangelical patience carries with it evangelical obedience or activity. It therefore comprehends a very large part of practical religion, and to say that it is matured by trial is to say that trial or temptation, in the sense here put upon the term, is an important means of grace, of spiritual growth, and instead of being angrily complained of as a hardship, ought not indeed to be desired any more than medicines, especially when composed of poisons, should be used as ordinary food; but when administered, without our agency or even option, by the Great Physician, should be thankfully submitted to, and afterwards rejoiced in, as a potent agency of God's appointment which produces great effects, not by a sudden change, but, as the original expression seems to mean, by a gradual and long-continued process; for the trial of our faith "worketh out," elaborates, and as it were laboriously cultivates a habit of persistent obedience and submission to the will of God, both in the way of doing and suffering. That the patience thus commended is not a sluggish principle, much less a mere condition of repose, but something active in itself and tending to activity in others, is evident enough from the apostle's exhortation not to hinder it in its operation, but to let it have its perfect work or full effect. Could tills be said of mere inertia, or even patient nonresistance? All this affords abundant room for wise discrimination. It is evidently not a matter which can be conducted to a safe issue by mere audacity or force of will, by cutting knots which ought to be untied, which can neither solve themselves nor be solved by any intellectual force short of wisdom in the highest sense. This wisdom, the idea of which was familiar to the wisest of the heathen, has been realised only in the school of revelation. And woe to him who undertakes, without it, to solve the intricate and fearful problem of man's character and destiny!

(J. A. Alexander, D. D.)

Luther has somewhere made that fine confession, that there were chiefly three things which had introduced him into the depths of true divinity, and which he was, therefore, accustomed to recommend to every one as proved — viz., silent meditation on the Word of God; persevering and ardent prayer, together with the Word of God; and inward and outward attacks on account of the Word of God. It is trial which must arouse the spirit plunged into earthly concerns, and benumbed by the influence of the world out of the sleep of security, and point him to that Word which leads the foolish to wisdom, the sinner to righteousness, Besides, in many cases, especially in the days of carnal ease, the flame of prayer, even on the altar of the regenerated man's heart, would burn out, if trials, returning from time to time, did not carry fresh wood to stir anew the fire of devotion. It is only by struggling that the inward life can become strong: it is only in the storm that the stem of life and godliness can take deeper and firmer roots.

I. In Germany it is one of the requisites of civil law, that he who wants to become a citizen SHALL PASS THROUGH THE POPULAR SCHOOL. They, therefore, speak of a legal school-duty which no one is permitted to shun. There is, also, such a duty in the kingdom of God. He who wants to become a citizen of that kingdom must not refuse to enter the school of suffering which the Lord Himself has instituted on earth, and sanctified by His example. Already, as the natural descendant of Adam, the first sinner, every one has to carry his share of the common misery which weighs on humanity, and cannot avoid it. But what for the natural man is only a constraint laid upon him from without, is, in the case of the Christian, spiritualised and glorified into a deed of voluntary obedience. "The disciple is not above his Master, nor the servant above his Lord. If any man will come after Me, let him deny him. self, and take up his cross and follow Me." "We must, through much tribulation, enter into the kingdom of God." They declare the duty of suffering to be a general law of the Christian life. If, therefore, we look into the roll of the citizens of the heavenly kingdom, we do not find there a single one who had not, in the school of suffering, to resolve heavier or easier tasks, and been obliged to stop longer or shorter there. You have, therefore, no right to complain, if the Lord takes you into the school of suffering, and there assigns you your task. You thereby only fulfil an obligation incumbent upon you as a citizen of the kingdom of God. You will not wish to be exempt from what is the lot of every one. Yea, it is an honour for you to belong to a school through which have passed the prophets and the apostles themselves, and out of which are come the first-fruits of the creatures of God.

II. The peculiarity of each school arises out of THE FIXED AIM TRIED TO BE ATTAINED WITH THE PUPILS, AND FOR WHICH, THEREFORE, ALL SCHOOL ARRANGEMENTS ARE CALCULATED. Thus, the burgher-school wants to form able burghers; the practical school, clever tradesmen; the military school, gallant soldiers; the college, intelligent servants of the sate and of the Church. In a similar manner, Christ's school of suffering pursues a fixed aim. He wants to form His pupils into thoroughly-qualified men; in short, He wants to make nothing less of them than princes and priests in the kingdom of the immortal God. His patience and His obedience, His meekness and His humility, His firm faith and His persevering hope, His victorious fight and His glorious perfection, are to be reflected in the trial of their sufferings, so that He may be able to behold in them the true followers of His spirit, and sharers of His glorious life. From this point of view the apostles considered their sufferings, and by this the sharpest sting of them was broken, and the bitterest cup was wonderfully sweetened. "We always bear about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus." We are sorry to perceive that this apostolical apprehension of sufferings has become so rare among us. If faith can only lay hold on that thought, the burden of suffering is thereby diminished, and we are able to say, with St. Paul, "Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."

III. But, besides the aim of the school, there must, in each well-regulated establishment, also exist A FIXED PLAN AFTER WHICH TO PROCEED. If there is to be progress in the studies of the pupils, a well-pondered plan must not be wanting, by which is determined in what gradation the various branches are to be imparted, and what method of teaching must be observed. For Christ's school of suffering, too, there is a fixed plan according to which the pupils are treated. It is in good hands, for it has been made by Him who gives term and measure to each thing, and always remembers that we are dust and ashes. As soon as the height fixed by Him is reached, the waters will fall again, the storm will abate, thou wilt again perceive the dry land, and thy soul will be permitted to thank the Lord on her harp, that He has been the help of thy countenance and thy God.

(W. Hofacker.)

I. TRIALS ARE A COMMON CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE.

1. Numerous. They come one after another in quick succession, attack us at every point, and, by reiterated importunity, wear out resistance. A continual dropping wears the stone, and blow after blow shatters the fortress.

2. Diversified. The trials are addressed to the different elements of our nature, and are brought to bear on the ever-varying conditions of our life.

3. Combined. They conspire to encompass and overthrow, with such close and serried ranks that there seems no way of escape, and the sorely beset sufferer says, "All these things are against me."

4. Intensified. Often, in the case of Christians of every age, the trials which befall them are more grievous from the time, place, and manner of their occurrence — sufferings inflicted through those that are dear, or when weakened by age or infirmity, and removed from the sympathy and succour of friends.

II. TRIALS ARE A NECESSARY CHRISTIAN DISCIPLINE. They are designed to reveal to us our own sinfulness and weakness, to discover the graces of the Spirit, to prove the strength of our faith, the ardour of our love, the constancy of our devotion. Like the tree which becomes the more firmly Tooted by the blasts which toss and twist its branches, the believer only clings more tenaciously to his Lord when his soul is tried by affliction.

III. TRIALS ARE A COMPLETION OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. What but lives thus perfected by the chastening hand of God can bow cheerfully beneath poverty, feeble health, and dark days of discouragement, or bear up under calumny and vexatious opposition, or wait and work even though the promise tarry and the blessing seems withheld? In proportion as we endure, we obtain grace in fullest measure, and adequate to every demand or emergency.

IV. TRIALS ARE A SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN GLADNESS. The conscious joy of trials springs from the results which follow them.

1. The honour conferred. Suffering for Christ is a gift of favour.

2. The comfort imparted. A stronger sense of assurance is wrought in the soul, and when trials are peculiarly severe, often a foretaste of future felicity is obtained, and martyrs are more than conquerors.

3. The usefulness achieved. The silent heroism and calm endurance of the sufferer are often more effective in maintaining and spreading the truth than the logical reasoning and persuasive eloquence of the preacher.

(W. Ormiston, D. D.)

I. THE DISCIPLINE OF THIS SCHOOL SHOULD BE CHEERFULLY MET.

1. Because trials test our faith.

2. The working of faith develops patience.

3. Patience tends to completeness of character.

II. THE ADVANTAGES OF THIS SCHOOL ARE OBTAINED BY PRAYER.

1. Spiritual excellence is the chief subject of prayer.

2. The great God is the only object of prayer.

3. Unwavering confidence is the power of prayer.

(U. R. Thomas.)

"Count it all joy" means, "Count it nothing but joy," "Count it pure joy," "Count it the highest joy," when trials of many different kinds surround you. They had trouble enough, and therefore they might have joy enough, if they could but learn the secret of extracting joy from trouble. And why should they not learn it? It is simple enough. A paradox to the thoughtless, it is an axiom with the wise. For "trial" means "test." And it is as we are tested that we learn our own weakness, learn what and where it is, and are set on correcting it. The gospel affirms that we are infected with a moral weakness, or disease, of which our sorrows are the natural result, and of which they may become a sovereign remedy. For the sorrows bred by sin dispose us to hate and renounce the sin which produces them. The sorrows that disclose unsuspected weakness set us on seeking a strength that shall be made perfect in weakness. Nay, even the sorrows which involve shame and remorse have a cleansing virtue, if only our sorrow be of a godly sort. "But the Jews of the Dispersion," it may be said, "were not suffering for their sins, but for their virtues, for their faith in Christ and their obedience to His law!" True; but in suffering for our faith, may we not also be suffering for our faults — for the weakness of our faith, for instance? The faith of these Jews must have been weak and immature. It may be that, but for the "many trials" which the hostility of the world and the synagogue brought upon them, they would have remained very imperfectly Christian to the end of their lives, even if they had remained Christian at all. Their trials put them on their mettle. When nothing was open to them but publicly renouncing Christ, or cleaving to Him, their choice was clear, their duty plain. They must cleave to Him; and, cleaving to Him, they would be driven closer and closer to Him by the very opposition designed to detach them from Him. On one point, happily for us, St. James is quite clear: viz., that tribulation is discipline; that by the divers trials which befall us God is making, or seeking to make, us perfect and complete. And where can we find a more inspiriting view of tribulation than this? It is God, our reconciled God and Father, who appoints these tests, God who applies them. And therefore we may be sure that they come for good ends. "The proving of your faith worketh patience, i.e., it results in a firm and steadfast constancy, in a fidelity which can face all allurements and fears. "Tried" and "faithful" are all but synonyms in our common speech, so close is the connection between trials and fidelity, But if our trials are to produce this constant and faithful temper in us, we must "let patience have a perfect work." Since chastening is grievous to us, the danger is that we should seek to escape it as soon as we can, forgetting that only "he that endureth to the end will be saved." The acid that tries the gold bites the gold, or rather, it bites the alloy in the gold. Tests are painful; and they make unwelcome calls on our fortitude. We must therefore let patience have her perfect work, we must suffer our constancy, our fidelity to God, to be exposed to many and searching trials, if we would reap the full benefit of our trials. And what is this full benefit? "That ye may be perfect and entire, lacking nothing," or lacking in nothing. The fall benefit of trial is, that, if we endure it with a patient fidelity, we become mature men in Christ Jesus, nay, complete men, lacking nothing that a Christian man should have and enjoy. And what higher reward could possibly be set before a reasonable and religious being? What we want, what we know we want, most of all, is to have our character fully and happily developed, its various and often hostile affections and aims absorbed and harmonized, by having them all brought under law to Christ. To become such men as He was, and to walk even as also He walked, is not this the supreme end of all who call and profess themselves Christians? is it not our chief good, our highest blessedness?

(S. Cox, D. D.)

In "Count it all joy," i.e., "Consider it as nothing but matter for rejoicing," we miss a linguistic touch which is evident in the Greek, but cannot well be preserved in English. In saying "joy" (χάραν) St. James is apparently carrying on the idea just started in the address, "greeting" (χαίρειν), i.e., "wishing joy." "I wish you joy; and you must account as pure joy all the troubles into which you may fall." It is just possible that "all joy" (πᾶσαν χάραν) is meant exactly to balance "manifold temptations" (πειρασμοῖς ποικίλοις). Great diversity of troubles is to be considered as in reality every kind of joy. Nevertheless, the troubles are not to be of our own making or seeking. It is not when we inflict suffering on ourselves, but when we "fall into" it, and therefore may regard it as placed in our way by God, that we are to look upon it as a source of joy rather than of sorrow. The word for "fall into" (περιπίπτειν) implies not only that what one falls into is unwelcome, but also that it is unsought and unexpected. Moreover, it implies that this unforeseen misfortune is large enough to encircle or overwhelm one. It indicates a serious calamity. What St. James has principally in his mind are external trials, such as poverty of intellect (ver. 5), or of substance (ver. 9), or persecution (James 2:6, 7), and the like; those worldly troubles which test our faith, loyalty, and obedience, and tempt us to abandon our trust in God, and to cease to strive to please Him. The trials by which Satan was allowed to tempt Job are the kind of temptations to be understood here. They are material for spiritual joy, because —

1. They are opportunities for practising virtue, which cannot be learned without practice, nor practised without opportunities.

2. They teach us that we have here no abiding city, for a world in which such things are possible cannot be a lasting home,

3. They make us more Christlike.

4. We have the assurance of Divine support, and that no more will ever be laid upon us than we, relying upon that support, can bear.

5. We have the assurance of abundant compensation here and hereafter. St. James here is only echoing the teaching of his Brother (Matthew 5:11, 12). In the first days after Pentecost he had seen the apostles acting in the very spirit which he here enjoins, and he had himself very probably taken part in doing so (Acts 5:41, cf. 4:23-30). St. Peter (1 Peter 1:6) and St. Paul (Romans 5:3) teach the same doctrine of rejoicing in tribulation. There is no inconsistency in teaching such doctrine, and yet praying, "Lead us not into temptation." Not only is there no sin in shrinking from both external trials and internal temptations; but such is the weakness of the human will, that it is only reasonable humility to pray to God not to allow us to be subjected to severe trials. Nevertheless, when God in His wisdom has permitted such things to come upon us, the right course is, not to be sorrowful, as though something quite intolerable had overtaken us, but to rejoice that God has thought us capable of enduring something for His sake, and has given us the opportunity of strengthening our patience and our trust in Him. This doctrine of joy in suffering, which at first sight seems to be almost superhuman, is shown by experience to be less hard than the apparently more human doctrine of resignation and fortitude. And here it may be noticed that St. James is no cynic or stoic. He does not tell us that we are to anticipate misfortune, and cut ourselves off from all those things the loss of which might involve suffering; or that we are to trample on" our feelings, and act as if we had none, treating sufferings as if they were non-existent, or as if they in no way affected us. He points out to us that temptations, and especially external trials, are really blessings, if we use them aright; and he teaches us to meet them in that conviction. And it is manifest that the spirit in which to welcome a blessing is the spirit of joy and thankfulness. St. James does not bid us accept this doctrine of joy in tribulation upon his personal authority. It is no philosopher's ipse dixit. He appeals to his readers' own experience: "Knowing that the proof of your faith worketh patience." "Knowing" (), i.e., "in that ye are continually finding out and getting to know." The verb and the tense indicate progressive and continuous knowledge, as by the experience of daily life; and this teaches us that proving and testing not only brings to light, but brings into existence, patience. This patience (ὑπομονή), this abiding firm under attack or pressure, must be allowed full scope to regulate all our conduct; and then we shall see why trials are a matter for joy rather than sorrow, when we find ourselves moving onwards towards, not the barrenness of stoical "self-sufficiency" (αὐτάρκεια), but the fulness of Divine perfection. "That ye may be perfect and entire, lacking in nothing," is perhaps one of the many reminiscences of Christ's words which we shall find in this letter of the Lord's brother (Matthew 5:48).

(A. Plummer, D. D.)

It is absolutely essential that a teacher of moral ethics should be —

(1)Of joyful disposition;

(2)Competent to lead men into the depths of Christian character.

I. THE POWER OF TRIAL TO OCCASION CHRISTIAN JOY.

1. The trials to which these Jewish Christians were exposed. Though Christian people are not; now called to endure persecution, yet they are not without their individual trials; though they hear not the shouts and clamour of an invading foe, they are subject to the ravages of death; though they are not exposed to the intrigue of the political marauder, yet they are liable to the crash of commercial panic; though they are not exposed to the invective of aa enraged countryman, yet they are liable to the calumny of the idle gossip.

2. There was in the trials of these Jewish Christians an element of temptation.(1) These temptations were numerous — "divers." They were persecuted; their homes were plundered; their property was pillaged; they were exposed to poverty; they were liable to assassination.(2) Variegated — "divers." There was a blending in them of hope and promise; there was the fortune of war, and the promise of their countrymen to lure them.(3) Precipitous and all-surrounding — "when ye fall into." Grief comes unexpectedly.

3. These trials were to be made the occasion of joy. The Christian life is a grand paradox. In temptation it is in hope; in pain it is in gladness; in sorrow it is in joy; in old age it verges on immortal youth.

4. These Jewish Christians were addressed in the language of deep sympathy. St. James knew that they were in trial, and felt it his duty to write to console and guide them. Some men object to letter-writing; they cannot write even to sorrowing friends. Where are their brotherly instincts? We are near to Christ when trying to aid the sorrowful.

II. THE POWER OF TRAIL TO TEST CHRISTIAN FAITH.

1. Trial tests the reality of Christian faith. If under it we manifest the nobler moral qualities of the Christian character; if we are calm in thought, resigned in temper, prayerful in spirit, and patient in disposition, our faith must be genuine, as such graces are only the outcome of a veritable heart-trust in the Saviour.

2. A tried faith is a potential influence within the soul. No one can estimate the power of a faith that has survived the ordeal of temptation to give energy to a soul, beauty to a character, charm to a life, and influence with the world at large.

III. THE POWER OF TRIAL TO DEVELOP CHRISTIAN PATIENCE.

1. Patience consists in a calm waiting for the unfolding of the Divine will and providence.

2. Patience should be constant and progressive in its exercise — co-ordinate with every trial, superior to every distress, gathering new energy from its continued exercise.

IV. THE POWER OF TRIAL TO ENHANCE THE PERFECTION OF MORAL CHARACTER. St. James is not writing of the perfection of unrenewed human nature, but of the sublime possibility of Christian manhood. He is writing of a life that is animated by faith, that is cultured by deep sorrow, and that is capable of holy patience.

(Joseph S. Exell, M. A.)

James calls the converted among the twelve tribes his brethren. Christianity has a great uniting power: it both discovers and creates relationships among the sons of men. It reminds us of the ties of nature, and binds us with the bonds of grace. Whatever brotherhood may be a sham, let the brotherhood of believers be the most real thing beneath the stars. Beginning with this word "brethren," James shows a true brotherly sympathy with believers in their trials, and this is a main part of Christian fellowship. If we are not tempted ourselves at this moment, others are: let us remember them in our prayers; for in due time our turn will come, and we shall be put trite the crucible, Remembering the trials of his brethren, James tries to cheer them, and therefore he says, "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers trials." It is a part of our high calling to rise ourselves into confidence; and it is also our duty to see that none of our brethren despond, much less despair. The whole tendency of our holy faith is to elevate and to encourage. The message of the gospel is one of gladness, and were it universally received this world would be no longer a wilderness, but would rejoice and blossom as the rose.

I. THE ESSENTIAL POINT WHICH IS ASSAILED by temptation or trial.

1. It is your faith which is tried. It is supposed that you have that faith. You are not the people of God, you are not truly brethren unless you are believers. It is this faith of yours which is peculiarly obnoxious to Satan and to the world which lieth in the wicked one. The hand of faith is against all evil, and all evil is against faith. Faith is that blessed grace which is most pleasing to God, and hence it is most displeasing to the devil. He rages at faith because he sees therein his own defeat and the victory of grace. Because the trial of your faith brings honour to the Lord, therefore the Lord Himself is sure to try it that out of its trial praise may come to His grace by which faith is sustained. It is by our faith that we are saved, justified, and brought near to God, and therefore it is no marvel that it is attacked. Faith is the standard bearer, and the object of the enemy is to strike him down that the battle may be gained. It is by our faith that we live; we began to live by it, and we continue to live by it, for "the just shall live by faith." Hold fast, therefore, this your choice treasure. It is by faith, too, that Christians perform exploits. Faith is the conquering principle: therefore it is Satan's policy to slay it even as Pharaoh sought to kill the male children when Israel dwelt in Egypt.

2. Now, think of how faith is tried. According to the text we are said to fail into "manifold temptations "or into "divers temptations" — that is to say, we may expect very many and very different troubles. In any case these trials will be most real. Our temptations are no inventions of nervousness nor hobgoblins of dreamy fear. Ay, and note too, that the trials of Christians are such as would in themselves lead us into sin. A man is very apt to become unbelieving under affliction: that is a sin. He is apt to murmur against God under it. He is apt to put forth his hand to some ill way of escaping from his difficulty: and that would be a sin. Hence we are taught to pray, "Lead us not into temptation"; because trial has in itself a measure of temptation, and if it were not neutralised by abundant grace it would bear us towards sin. I suppose that every test must have in it a measure of temptation. Did ever a flower of grace blossom in this wretched clime without being tried with frost or blight? Our way is up the river; we have to stem the current, and struggle against a flood which would readily bear us to destruction. Thus, not only trials, but black temptations assail the Christian's faith. As to what shape they take, we may say this much: the trial or temptation of each man is distinct from that of every other, That which would most severely test me would perhaps be no trial to you; and that which tries you might be no temptation to me. This is one reason why we often judge one another so severely, because feeling ourselves to be strong in that particular point we argue that the fallen one must have been strong in that point too, and therefore must have wilfully determined to do wrong. This may be a cruel supposition. "Divers trials," says the apostle, and he knew what he said. And sometimes these divers trials derive great force from their seemingly surrounding us, and cutting off escape. James says, "Ye fall into divers temptations": like men who fall into a pit, and do not know how to get out; or like soldiers who fall into an ambuscade.

II. THE INVALUABLE BLESSING WHICH IS GAINED BY THE TRIAL OF OUR FAITH. The blessing gained is this, that our faith is tried and proved. The effectual proof is by trials of God's sending. The way of trying whether you are a good soldier is to go down to the battle: the way to try whether a ship is well built is not merely to order the surveyor to examine her, but to send her to sea: a storm will be the best test of her staunchness. They have built a new lighthouse upon the Eddystone: how do we know that it will stand? We judge by certain laws and principles, and feel tolerably safe about the structure; but, after all, we shall know best in after-years when a thousand tempests have beaten upon the lighthouse in vain. We need trials as a test as much as we need Divine truth as our food. Admire the ancient types placed in the ark of the covenant of old: two things were laid close together — the pot of manna and the rod. See how heavenly food and heavenly rule go together: how our sustenance and our chastening are equally provided for! A Christian cannot live without the manna nor without the rod. The two must go together. Sanctified tribulations work the proof of our faith, and this is more precious than that of gold which perisheth, though it be tried by fire.

1. Now, when we are able to bear it without starting aside, the trial proves our sincerity.

2. Next, it proves the truthfulness of our doctrinal belief.

3. Next, your own faith in God is proved when you can cling to Him under temptation. Not only your sincerity, but the divinity of your faith is proved; for a faith that is never tried, how can you depend upon it?

4. I find it specially sweet to learn the great strength of the Lord in my own weakness. The Lord suits the help to the hindrance, and puts the plaster on the wound. In the very hour when it is needed the needed grace is given. Does not this tend to breed assurance of faith?

5. It is a splendid thing to be able to prove even to Satan the purity of your motives. That was the great gain of Job. I reckon that the endurance of every imaginable suffering would be a small price to pay for a settled assurance, which would for ever prevent the possibility of doubt. Therefore, when you are tempted, "Count it all joy" that you are tried, because you will thus receive a proof of your love, a proof of your faith, a proof of your being the true-born children of God. James says, "Count it." A man requires to be trained to be a good accountant; it is an art which needs to be learned.

III. THE PRICELESS VIRTUE WHICH IS PRODUCED BY TRIAL, namely, patience; for the proof of your "faith worketh patience." The man who truly possesses patience is the man that has been tried. What kind of patience does he get by the grace of God?

1. First, he obtains a patience that accepts the trial as from God without a murmur.

2. The next kind of patience is when experience enables a man to bear ill-treatment, slander, and injury without resentment. He feels it keenly, but he bears it meekly.

3. The patience which God works in us by tribulation also takes another form, namely, that of acting without undue haste. In proportion as we grow like the Lord Jesus we shall cast aside disturbance of mind and fury of spirit.

4. That is a grand kind of patience, too, when we can wait without unbelief. Two little words are good for every Christian to learn and to practise — pray and stay. Waiting on the Lord implies both praying and staying.

5. This patience also takes the shape of believing without wavering, in the very teeth of strange providences and singular statements, and perhaps inward misgivings. If, in a word, we learn endurance we have taken a high degree. You look at the weather-beaten sailor, the man who is at home on the sea: he has a bronzed face and mahogany-coloured flesh, he looks as tough as heart of oak, and as hardy as if he were made of iron. How different from us poor landsmen. How did the man become so inured to hardships, so able to breast the storm, so that he does not care whether the wind blows south-west or north-west? He can go out to sea in any kind of weather; he has his sea legs on. How did he come to this strength? By doing business in great waters. He could not have become a hardy seaman by tarrying on shore. Now, trial works in the saints that spiritual hardihood which cannot be learned in ease.

IV. THE SPIRITUAL COMPLETENESS PROMOTED. "That ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing." Afflictions by God's grace make us all-round men, developing every spiritual faculty, and therefore they are our friends, our helpers, and should be welcomed with "all joy." Afflictions find out our weak points, and this makes us attend to them. Being tried, we discover our failures, and then going to God about those failures we are helped to be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. Moreover, our trials, when blessed of God to make us patient, ripen us. A certain measure of sunlight is wanted to bring out the real flavour of fruits, and when a fruit has felt its measure of burning sun it developes a lusciousness which we all delight in. So it is in men and women: a certain amount of trouble appears to be needful to create a certain sugar of graciousness in them, so that they may contain the rich, ripe juice of a gracious character. Sanctified trials produce a chastened spirit. Some of us by nature are untender; but after awhile friends notice that the roughness is depart-ins, and they are quite glad to be more gently handled. Ah, that sick chamber did the polishing; under God's grace, that depression of spirit, that loss, that cross, that bereavement — these softened the natural ruggedness, and made the man meek and lowly, like his Lord. Sanctified trouble has a great tendency to breed sympathy, and sympathy is to the Church as oil to machinery. A man that has never suffered feels very awkward when he tries to sympathise with a tried child of God. He kindly does his best, but he does not know how to go to work at it; but those repeated blows from the rod make us feel for others who are smarting, and by degrees we are recognised as being the Lord's anointed comforters, made meet by temptation to succour those who are tempted.

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

I. How THEY WERE TO REGARD THEIR TRIALS (ver. 2). "My brethren," he says — my brethren both by nature and grace, alike as Jews and Christians, as children of Abraham and children of a better father, the God of Abraham — "count it" — that is, reckon, think it — "all joy" — joy of the highest kind, and, indeed, of every kind — joy not in some small measure, but in the very largest, not in certain but the whole of its elements and aspects. "When ye fall into divers temptations." The language points to our being unexpectedly surrounded by temptations. It does not apply to the case of those who recklessly rush into them, who by their own presumption or folly bring them upon themselves. No happy effects can be looked for then, and the feelings suited to such circumstances are the reverse of joyful. He speaks not simply of temptations, but of "divers," that is, manifold, various temptations. He exhorts us to be affected in this way, not merely under one or two of them, but under any number, succession, combination of them — under them not only when they are of this or that kind, but whatever kind they happen to be of — under them not only when they come singly and go speedily, but even when they rush upon us from every side, and seem as if they would never take their departure. James here but reiterates the teaching of the Great Master (Matthew 5:12). Many in early times found it possible to obey the injunction (Acts 5:41; 2 Corinthians 7:4; Romans 5:3; Hebrews 10:34). Trials of any kind, such as earthly losses, bodily afflictions, domestic sorrows, spiritual assaults, are painful in their nature. Not only so, there is an element of danger in every one of them, there is the risk of failure, of dishonouring God in the fires, and losing the benefit of the visitation. But when we are providentially brought into such circumstances, then we should feel not only calmly submissive, but even gratefully glad. We are in a Father's hand, His purposes are all wise and gracious, and, in the very midst of our heaviness, we should greatly rejoice.

II. WHY THEY WERE THUS TO REGARD THEIR TRIALS (ver. 3). If we remember how apt we are to deceive ourselves — how ready to rest in mere appearances, when all is prosperous and pleasant — how we need to be shaken and sifted to know what in reality and at bottom we are — we shall hail whatever searches us through and through, even though it may pierce like a sword, or scorch like a furnace. But how is the result brought about? "Knowing this," he says, knowing it as you do, both by the testimony of God's Word and the experience of God's people — knowing it as a thing often evidenced and indubitably certain — "that the trying of your faith worketh patience." Faith is the primary, radical grace of the Christian character. From it, as a root, all the others spring; on it, as a foundation, all the others are built. It is the grand principle of the new life, which grows as it grows, and declines as it declines. "It worketh patience" — endurance, perseverance, which is more than calm submission to the Divine will, even resolute, energetic constancy in the doing of that will, a standing out, a holding on, and pressing forward in spite of the sufferings undergone. Hence it is said elsewhere, "Knowing that tribulation" — which corresponds to the trying or proving in the present case, for it is effected by means of tribulation — "worketh patience, and patience experience" (Romans 5:3, 4). This is the result brought about, the effect produced. Such dealings not only evince the reality of faith, but promote its growth, for they stir it into more conscious and vigorous exercise. The most tried Christians are the strongest. The proving of faith issues in endurance, and at every step this endurance grows less difficult and less precarious. Past evidences of the Divine love, wisdom, and faithfulness in the time of need, stablish the heart and banish fears in prospect of impending and under the pressure of present trials. Thus there is a going from strength to strength in the path of suffering. But here the apostle pauses, as it were, and turns aside for a moment to exhort those whom he addresses regarding this patience (ver. 4). Let this endurance not stop short in its course; let it produce its full effect, work out its complete result. How needful the counsel! We grow weary, grasp at premature deliverances, have recourse to questionable expedients. *We are net willing to wait God's time and way of extrication. In order to have its perfect work it must act, not partially, but fully; and, I add, it must act not temporarily, but permanently. The purpose of the whole, and the effect, when realised, is, "that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing." Let it be perfect, and we are perfect; so wide is the influence, so precious are the fruits of the grace of patience. The language here may be expressive of Christian completeness or maturity — of the new life in its full development, its well-balanced, vigorous exercise. He who is not only sound but strong, no longer a babe but now a man, is so far perfect. "Entire" — that is, having every requisite element and feature, and each in its proper place, all that enters into stability and consistency of character, to the exclusion of whatever is of an opposite tendency, and might have the effect of marring or weakening. As if that were not enough, he adds, "wanting nothing" — nothing essential to spiritual manhood, to the thoroughness of our personal Christianity. In proportion as we have this endurance at work, we possess grace in all its varied forms and ripest fruits — grace adequate to every duty and emergency.

1. See here the mark to which we should ever be pressing forward. Christians, you are not to be satisfied with holiness that is partial either in its extent, its compass, or in its degree. You are to seek that it may fully pervade every power and relation of your being.

2. See the discipline by which alone this mark can be reached. There must be endurance to the end; and that comes only in the way, and as the fruit of trial. The gold cannot be tested and refined without the furnace. It is the lashing-waves, the roaring breakers, which round and polish the smooth pebbles of the beach. It is only by being burned or bruised that certain spices reveal their fragrance.

(John Adam.)

Of what temptations, think you, was the apostle speaking? Did he mean, think you, that we were to "count it all joy," when we were tempted to the things which are pleasurable to our fleshly appetites, our senses, our pride, but which displease God? Even these temptations may be turned to good by the overpowering grace of God, because every trial in which, by His grace, we stand does bring us larger grace and greater favour of God. But out of such temptations it is a joy to have passed. But there is no joy to fall into them; because even apart from the issue, whether we conquer or are conquered, there is the separate peril whether, by a momentary consent, we displease God. What were, then, the temptations into which the early Christians were chiefly exposed to fall, into which the apostle bids them "count it all joy" to fall? St. Paul recounts them where he speaks of these things which, by the grace of Christ, shall not separate from the love of Christ (Romans 8:35-37; Romans 5:3). But why, then, are we to count such temptations as these joy? Why is it to be a joy to have to forego what flesh and blood desire, to do what flesh and blood shrink from?

1. First (which contains all), it is a token of the love of God. It is a badge of our sonship, an earnest of our future inheritance. To be without trial would be to be neglected by God. To have trial is a proof that God is thinking of us, caring .for us, giving us something which may approve us to Him. It is not the happy lot to have few troubles. The greatest friends of God had most and the heaviest. The happiest lot is to receive in peace, whether more or fewer, what God permits, and by His grace to endure, and to be more than conquerors through Christ that loved us; strengthened by our very conflicts, proofs against temptations through temptations; abounding in grace through the victories of grace, cleaving close to God by overcoming that which would separate us from Him.

2. Then, suffering likens us to Christ; it is a portion of the Cross of Christ.

3. Then, trouble bursts the bonds of this life and shows us the nothingness of all created things. Trouble drives the soul into itself, teaches it to know itself and its own weakness, rouses it when torpid, humbles it when it lifts itself up, strengthens the inner man, softens the heart, cuts off offences, guards virtues. Yet not only are those severer troubles channels of God's grace to the soul, but even temptation itself, when the soul hates it, purifies it. Then only is temptation dangerous when it is pleasant. Then flee it, as worse than a serpent, for it threatens thy soul's life. The apostle speaks not of temptations which we run into, temptations which we seek out for ourselves or make for ourselves, temptations which we tamper with; but temptations into which, by God's providence, we fall. The least, if thou court it, may destroy thy life; out of the greatest, God, if thou seek Him, will make a way of escape; not a mere escape, but out of it, aloft from it, over it. For this the very faith and truth of God are pledged to us that, if we will, we shall prevail. In this way, too, David's words come true, "It is better to fail into the hands of the Lord than into the hands of man" (2 Samuel 24:14). The trials which God sends, as sorrow, losses, bereavement, sickness, are always directly to our profit if we do not waste them. In strife with temptation only canst thou know thyself. "The unrest of temptation sifts whether a man, when in rest, truly loves God." Temptation shows us how weak we are to resist the very slightest assaults. We see in our weakness how any good in us (if there be good) is not of us but of God. And so temptation, if we are wise, makes us more watchful. Slighter temptation is either the way into or the way out of greater. Slighter temptations, if yielded to, prove a broad and high way which leads to greater, and, but for God's mercy, to destruction and death: slighter temptations, if resisted, open the eyes to the peril of greater. Or, again, a great sudden temptation has revealed to the soul the danger of tampering with less. And so temptation drives us to Him who hath said, "Call upon Me in the time of trouble, so will I deliver thee, and thou shalt praise Me." "I will be with him in trouble," saith God. "I will be unto him a wall of fire round about." "My strength is made perfect in weakness." The depth of trouble calls deeply. The deep earnest cry is answered. The longing of the soul is the presence of Christ. He who gives the grace to cry to Him wills to hear. And with the nearer presence of God to the soul come larger gifts of grace and more joyous hope of pleasing God. Experience has made it a Christian proverb, "God gives no grace to man except upon trouble." In victory over temptation God gives a holy fervour. He makes the soul to taste and see that it is far sweeter for His sake to forego what the soul desireth than against His will to have it. Then, after or in temptation, God will give thee consolation. As when on earth our Lord called His disciples to rest awhile, He will, after a while, if thou hold out, give thee rest, or else by the very trial He shields thee from some greater trial. And what will the end be? "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life." Every temptation resisted by the grace of God is a jewel in the heavenly crown.

(E. B. Pusey, D. D.)

The use and ordination of persecution to the people of God is trial. God maketh use of the worst instruments, as fine gold is cast into the fire, the most devouring element. Innocency is best tried by iniquity. But why doth God try us? Not for His own sake, for He is omniscient; but either —

1. For our sakes, that we may know ourselves. In trials we discern the sincerity of grace, and the weakness and liveliness of it; and so are less strangers to our own hearts. Sincerity is discovered. A gilded potsherd may shine till it cometh to scouring. In trying times God heateth the furnace so hot that dross is quite wasted; every interest is crossed, and then hirelings become changelings. Sometimes we discover our own weakness (Matthew 13.); we find that faith weak in danger which we thought to be strong out of danger. In pinching weather weak persons feels the aches and bruises of their joints. Sometimes we discern the liveliness of grace. Stars shine in the night that he hid in the day. Spices are most fragrant when burnt and bruised, so have saving graces their chiefest flagrancy in hard times.

2. Or for the world's sake. And so —(1) For the present to convince them by our constancy, that they may be confirmed in the faith if weak, or converted if altogether un-called. It was a notable saying of Luther, The Church converted the whole world by blood and prayer. We are proved, and religion is proved, when we are called to sufferings. Paul's bonds made for the furtherance of the gospel (Philippians 1:12, 13). was converted by the constancy of the Christians. When he saw the Christians so willingly choose death, he reasoned thus within himself: Surely these men must be honest, and there is somewhat eminent in their principles. So I remember the author of the Council of Trent said concerning Anne de Burg, a senator of Paris, who was burnt for Protestantism, that the death and constancy of a man so conspicuous did make many curious to know what religion that was for which he bad courageously endured punishment, and so the number was much increased.(2) We are tried with respect to the day of judgment (1 Peter 1:7). Use: It teaches us to bear afflictions with constancy and patience.

1. God's aim in your affliction is not destruction, but trial (Daniel 11:35).

2. The time of trial is appointed (Daniel 11:35).

3. God sits by the furnace looking after His metal (Malachi 3:3).

4. This trial is not only to approve, but to improve (1 Peter 1:7; Job 23:10).

(T. Manton.)

There are two general grounds on which believers may well do what is here required of them.

1. In spite of their trials they have precious privileges and exalted prospects — such privileges as peace with God and hearts renewed to righteousness. (Psalm 73:24).

2. Their trials themselves are fraught with good. They are part of God's paternal discipline. They are fitted to give them many salutary lessons respecting the evil of sin and the value of salvation.

3. And, finally, the "trial of their faith," as the apostle goes on to say, "worketh patience."

(A. S. Patterson, D. D.)

The first thing he taken notice of is their sufferings — the troubles to which they are exposed on account of their faith in Christ. By and by he will have plenty to say of their sins, of conduct unbecoming Christian believers, conduct he will be sure to rebuke. If you see it to be your duty to point out a man's sins to him, do not do it till you are quite sure you have let him see that you feel for him with all your heart, and that you have no other wish than to do him good.

1. It verified the faith. Without the trial there might have been suspicion about the reality or the strength of it. The trial came and the faith endured. If you suffer because you are a Christian, this tries you whether you are a Christian. If you suffer in what we call the course of Providence, this tries you whether you have faith in Him who guides and governs all things. And so in every event of life that seems antagonistic to your welfare, it is a test of the reality of your faith, and, therefore, a ground of joy.

2. Trial not only verifies faith, it strengthens it as well, strengthens it so that it is stronger through the trial than it was before. The reason is plain. Whatever exercises faith strengthens faith; whatever compels it to come forth from disuse, whatever rouses it to assert its existence, increases its strength. "Our antagonist is our friend." Trials provoke faith, and the best thing that can happen to it is just to be provoked. You wrap up a child's limbs, you give them no free play, you compress the very channels in which the life-blood flows, and you wonder there is no increase of strength.(1) The purpose of all trial is the trying of faith. Life is the very sphere of trial, and everything that crosses us is a cross in the way we travel to a purer and a stronger faith.(2) Every kind of a trial which the Christian experiences has its special joy. There is a drop of pleasure in every bitter cup which is peculiar to that cup.(3) The beneficence of the trial-character of life; of the demand for verification of faith. Would you go to sea in a ship whose engines had not been tested? What about the journey to the eternal would?(4) How does a man come out from his trials? On a higher plane of spiritual life or on a lower one? He may see here the test.(5) There are trials before us that may be too strong for us. Let us see to it that our faith now be so confirmed that it will be more than conqueror over whatever the future may contain.

(Peter Rutherford.)

That your judgments may be rectified in point of afflictions, take these rules.

1. Do not judge by sense (Hebrews 12:11).

2. Judge by a supernatural light. Christ's eye-salve must clear your sight, or else you cannot make a right judgment: there is no fit apprehension of things till you get within the veil, and see by the light of a sanctuary lamp (1 Corinthians 2:11). So David, "In Thy light we shall see light" (Psalm 36:9); that is, by His Spirit we come to discern the brightness of glory or grace, and the nothingness of the world.

3. Judge by supernatural grounds. Many times common grounds may help us to discern the lightness of our grief, yea, carnal grounds; your counting must be an holy counting. God's corrections are sharp, but we have strong corruptions to be mortified; we are called to great trials, but we may reckon upon great hopes, &c. From that "all joy"; afflictions to God's people do not only minister occasion of patience, but great joy. The world hath no reason to think religion a black and gloomy way. A Christian is a bird that can sing in winter as well as in spring; he can live in the fire like Moses's bush; burn and not be consumed; nay, leap in the fire. But you will say, Doth not the Scripture allow us a sense of our condition? How can we rejoice in that which is evil?(1) Not barely in the evil of them; that is so far from being a fruit of grace that it is against nature; there is a natural abhorrency of that which is painful, as we see in Christ Himself (John 12:27).(2) Their joy is from the happy effects, or consequences, or comforts, occasioned by their sufferings. I will name some.(a) The honour done to us; that we are singled out to bear witness to the truths of Christ: "To you it is given to suffer" (Philippians 1:29).(b) The benefit the Church receiveth. Resolute defences gain upon the world. The Church is like an oak, which liveth by its own wounds, and the more limbs are cut off the more new sprouts.(c) Their own private and particular comforts. God hath consolations proper for martyrs and His children under trials.The sun shineth many times when it raineth; and they have sweet glimpses of God's favour when their outward condition is most gloomy and sad. There is a holy greatness of mind, and a joy that becometh the saddest providences. Faith should be above all that befalleth us; it is its proper work to make a believer triumph over every temporary accident. Again, another ground of joy in ordinary crosses is, because in them we may have much experience of grace, of the love of God, and our own sincerity and patience; and that is ground of rejoicing (Romans 5:3). Lastly, all evils are alike to faith; and it would as much misbecome a Christian hope to be dejected with losses as with violence or persecution. You should walk so that the world may know you can live above every condition, and that all the evils are much beneath your hopes.

4. From that "when ye fall," observe that evils are the better borne when they are undeserved and involuntary; that is, when we fall into them rather than draw them upon ourselves.

5. From that "divers," God hath several ways wherewith to exercise His people. Crosses seldom come single. When God beginneth once to try He useth divers ways of trial; and, indeed, there is great reason. Divers diseases must have divers remedies. Pride, envy, covetousness, worldliness, wantonness, ambition, are not all cured by the same physic. And learn, too, from hence, that God hath several methods of trial — confiscation, banishment, poverty, infamy, reproach; some trials search us more than others. We must leave it to His wisdom to make choice. Will-suffering is as bad as will-worship.

6. From that word "temptations," observe, the afflictions of God's people are but trials. Well, then, behave thyself as one under trial. Let nothing be discovered in thee but what is good and gracious. Men will do their best at their trial; oh, watch over yourselves with the more care that no impatience, vanity, murmuring, or worldliness of spirit may appear in you.

(T. Mounters.)

1. Of the nature of temptation.

2. Of the joyful result to the true Christian.

3. Of his duty under it.

I. THE NATURE OF TEMPTATION.

II. THE JOYFUL RESULT TO THE TRUE CHRISTIAN.

1. We must here remember, first, the account which St. Paul has given us of God's dealings: "Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth." So that, in the suffering of trial, the believer has one especial mark of God's favour.

2. But though all God's people are partakers of chastisement, yet, as mere suffering is not a sufficient test of grace, there is another particular to be noticed, namely, the awakening tendency of trials. I have alluded to the extreme danger of the state of quiet and prosperity when the world smiles upon men; when Satan seems to have departed from them; and when their natural propensities to ease are furthered by all surrounding circumstances (Jeremiah 48:11).

3. This is another useful tendency of trial — it humbles men. Who is so likely to boast as he who has just put on his armour, and has never yet seen the battle?

4. I think we may now easily see that the results of trial to the believer are joyful. Every branch in the living vine that beareth fruit the heavenly Husbandman "purgeth, that it may bring forth more fruit."

III. But it is time, in the third place, to speak more particularly of THE CHRISTIAN'S DUTY UNDER TEMPTATION.

1. And here, I would say, first, he must meet it in faith. And surely there are enough of precious promises whereon we may stay ourselves.

2. I would make another observation; and that is, you must under trial show submission to the Lord's hand. Persons are very often ready, like Cain, to cry out, "My punishment is greater than I can bear."

3. The next point that I would press on you is the exercise of patience. This is especially dwelt on by the apostle in my text, when he says, "Let patience have her perfect work; that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing." Abraham, for instance, was long, very long, kept childless, till he was forced to hope even "against hope." It is by slow degrees that the proud heart is humbled, and the self-sufficient spirit moulded into childlike submission to the will of God. If the gold be taken from the furnace before it be thoroughly purified and refined, why surely it had better never have been cast into the fire.

4. I make but one more closing observation. How anxious ought we to be to reap the benefit God intends from trial! When we contend with the enemies of our salvation, there can be no such thing as a drawn battle; if victory be not for us, we shall be worsted. And there is no state of more fearful augury than that of the man whom trial, chastisement, temptation, hardens. It is only sanctified trial that is profitable; and in order that trial may be so sanctified, we must earnestly implore the blessing of the Divine Spirit.

(J. Ayre, M. A.)

Life is not always easy to any, of whatever condition or fortune. And men increase the painfulness of living by undertaking life on a wrong theory, viz., the conception of the possibility of making life free from trouble. They dream of this; they toil for this; they are all disappointed. It is impracticable, man might just as well seek to live without eating or without breathing. All human beings are born to trouble as the birds fly upward. Why, then, should we increase the difficulties of human life by adding to its natural limitations the attempt to reach the unattainable? They live the less difficult lives who early adjust themselves to the natural fact that trouble is to be the normal condition of life. They prepare themselves for it. They fortify themselves by philosophy and religion to endure the inevitable. Then every hour free from trouble is so much cleat" gain. But to him who adopts the other theory — and who does not? — every trouble is so much clear loss. The man in trouble, the fish in water, the bird in air: that is the law; why not accept it? That fact need not discourage us. It does not take from our dignity, nor from our growth, nor from our final happiness. The painter cannot have his picture glowing on the canvas by merely designing it, nor the sculptor transmute his ideal into marble by a wish. The one must take all the trouble of drawing and colouring, and the other that of chiselling and polishing. It is no necessary discouragement to a boy that he must be under tutors, and must go through the trouble and discipline of school-day, even if he be a prince. It is the law. That answers all. It need scarcely be added, that for any success we must conform to the law.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

1. These afflictions are manifold in respect of the diversity of instruments which God useth in afflicting them upon the saints. For sometimes He useth the devil, sometimes men, sometimes His other creatures as instruments.

2. As in respect of the divers instruments thereunto by God used, "the temptations of men are manifold; so if we look into the nature of temptations they are no less diverse. Some are afflicted by exile and banishment, some by captivity and imprisonment, some by famine and nakedness, some by peril and persecution, some by slander and reproachful contumely, some by rackings and tearings in pieces, some by fire and faggot, some by sores of body and sundry diseases, some suffer in themselves, some are afflicted in their friends, in their wives, in their children, some in their goods, some in their bodies, some in their credits, some by sea, some by land, some at home, some abroad, some by open enemies, some by counterfeit friends, some by cruel oppression, some by manifest injuries, some by force, some by fraud.

3. Finally, the ends wherefore they are afflicted are diverse; therefore in flint respect also they may not amiss be counted diverse. Sometimes we are afflicted to the end we should be humbled, tried, sometimes that in the nature of God's blessings we may better be instructed; sometimes we are afflicted that God may be glorified, sometimes that our sins may be remitted, sometimes that the pride of our hearts may be repressed and sinful desires mortified; sometimes we are afflicted that God's love towards us may the more lively be expressed, sometimes that thereby the world may be hated of us, sometimes that we may be more zealous in prayer for deliverance, sometimes that we may be made conformable and like the image of the Son of God, together with Him may be partakers of His glory. Finally, to make us forsake all trust in other, and to bring us home to God. As Isaiah teacheth us, at that day shall the remnant of Israel, and such as are escaped of the house of Jacob, stay no more upon him that smote him, but shall stay upon the Lord, the Holy One of Israel, in truth.

(R. Turnbull.)

Their spring of joy did not flow from the mere surface of life. It bubbled up from the deep underlying strata, and still ran on whatever changes vexed the surface.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

Mr. John Philpot was shut up with some Protestant companions in the Bishop of London's coal-cellar, but they were so merry that they were fetched out to be reprimanded for their unseasonable mirth. "The world wonders," wrote the good man to a friend, "we can be merry under such extreme miseries, but our God is omnipotent, who turns our misery into joy. I have so much joy that, though I be in a place of darkness and mourning, yet I cannot lament, but both day and night am full of joy. I never was so merry before; the Lord's name be praised for ever. Oh, pray instantly that this joy may never be taken from us, for it passeth all the delights in this world."

(Sunday at Home.)

Every bird can sing in a clear heaven in temperate spring; that one is most commended that sings many notes in the midst of a shower or in the dead of winter.

(Bp. Hall.)

In all temptations be not discouraged. These surges may be, not to break thee, but to heave thee off thyself on the Rock Christ.

(T. Wilcocks.)

Temptation is a necessity, and not only a necessity, but a benefaction. If you were to construct a man, you would have to put into him a certain percentage of temptation that he might become fully developed.

(Prof. Hy. Drummond.)

The quartz gold might bitterly complain when the hammer comes down on it — "Ah! I shall never be good for anything again. I am crushed to atoms." And when the rushing water came along it might cry out, "Here I am drowned. I am lost. I shall never come to the light any more." And when put into the furnace it might say, "Now I am for ever undone." But by and by, see that ring that clases the brow of the king. It is that same gold that understood not, through much tribulation it must enter upon honour. It is even thus with us. We need not complain if the terrible temptation comes along. It will give us an opportunity of using the grace which God has bestowed; it will show what metal we are of; it will bring out our character if we have any; and we may thus "count it all joy."

(W. G. Pascoe.)

Every possible trial to the child of God is a masterpiece of strategy of the Captain of his salvation for his good.

(A. R. Fausset, M. A.)

Tough trees grow in exposed situations, where the mightiest winds of heaven sweep and whirl from year to year. An experienced shipbuilder would not think of using for the mainmast of a ship a tree that had grown in a hot-house, where the whirlwind had never come.

(R. V. Lawrence.)

The best steel is subjected to the alternatives of extreme heat and extreme cold. Were you ever in a cutlery? If you were, you noticed that the knife-blades were heated, and beaten, and then heated again, and plunged into the coldest water, in order to give them the right shape and temper. And perhaps you also noticed that there was a large heap of rejected blades — rejected because they would not bear the tempering process. They cracked and warped; when put upon the grindstone, little flaws appeared in some that, up to that point, had seemed fair and perfect. Hence they were thrown aside as unfit for market. So souls, in order to ensure the right temper, are heated in the furnace of affliction, plunged into the cold waters of tribulation, and ground between the upper and nether stones of adversity and disaster. Some come out of the trial pure, elastic, and bright, ready for the highest service; others come out brittle, with ill-temper, full of flaws and spots of rust, and are thrown into the rubbish-room of the Church as unfit for any but the lowest uses. Now if you would be of any account among the forces that are working out the salvation of this world, be still in the hands of God until He tempers you. Listen to that knife-blade in the hands of the cutler. "Stop, now! I have been in the fire often enough. Would you burn the life out of me?" But in it goes again into the glowing furnace, and is heated to a white heat. "Stop hammering me! I have been pounded enough now." But down comes the sledge. "Keep me out of this cold water. One moment in the fiery furnace and the next in ice-cold water. It is enough to kill one! "But in it goes. "Keep me off the grindstone. You'll chafe the life out of me." But it is made to kiss the stone until the cutler is satisfied. But now see! When all the heating and cooling and pounding and grinding is done you may bend it double, and yet it springs back straight as an arrow; it is as bright as polished silver, hard as a diamond, and will cut like a Damascus blade. It has been shaped, tempered, and polished, and is worth something.

(R. V. Lawrence.)

Right back of Hackensack is a long railroad cut. In the dim twilight, when evening is far advanced, the cut is dark and gloomy. I was thinking of that one evening and I stopped to look into the entrance. I said to myself, "No one would ever imagine, just to glance in there without knowledge, that anything good could come by a way so forbidding." While I was still talking thus to myself, I felt the ground tremble, I saw the darkness light up with a sudden crimson ray, I heard a roar of ever-increasing loudness, and the black entrance of the cut was filled with a shower of sparks and a mixed plume of black and white; a ball of round fire blinded my eyes, a sound of thunder startled my ears, the earth shook up and down as though set upon springs, and then it was gone — the train had rushed by — nothing to be seen in the gloom but the little red lamp on the rear of the cars that rapidly diminished its lustre, blinked once or twice, and went out. Long after it was out of sight I heard the sound of the distant gong; and I realised that this unsightly cut had let some human happiness safely through. Some of our choicest mercies come in by way of some frowning trouble. The station where we receive them is a little further on, to be sure; but it is well to remember that if the dark way had not been traversed nothing so rich and good would have arrived.

(J. W. Dally.)

The more varied are the moral difficulties of life, the more complete is the discipline. The strain must come upon one muscle after another, if there is to be a perfect development of moral vigour — if, as James puts it, we are to be "lacking in nothing." The strength of every separate element of Christian righteousness must be tried, and tried by various tests. The courage which is unmoved by one form of danger maybe daunted by another. The patience which submits without a murmur to familiar suffering may be changed by a new sorrow into angry resentment. The Christian charity which has kept its sweetness through many cruel persecutions may at last be suddenly embittered by some fresh outrage.

(R. W. Dale, LL. D.)

Life, from first to last, is a perpetual "trial," and the "trial" is perpetually varied. In the school of God there are no vacations.

(R. W. Dale, LL. D.)

We go to rest sometimes with an impression of guilt on our minds, because all day long we have been under trial, so that we feel as if evil had been with us continually. At other times night finds us calm and serene. All has gone smoothly, and we are pleased with ourselves and our neighbours. And yet there may be a better record for the dark day than for the bright one, in God's book of remembrance. For temptation is not sin, nor its absence goodness.

A brother in a religious meeting was suffering from severe temptation, and after a full account of his experience was advised to take courage, "For," said Father Taylor, "the devil was never known to chase a bag of chaff! You may be sure that there is the pure wheat in your heart, or he would not be after you so hard."

Joy lives in the midst of the sorrow; the sorrow springs from the same root as the gladness. The two do not clash against each other, or reduce the emotion to a neutral indifference, but they blend into one another; just as, in the Arctic regions, deep down beneath the cold snow, with its white desolation and its barren death, you shall find the budding of the early spring flowers and the fresh green grass; just as some kinds of fire burn below the water; just as, in the midst of the barren and undrinkable sea, there may be welling up some little fountain of fresh water that comes from a deeper depth than the great ocean around it, and pours its sweet streams along the surface of the salt waste.

(A. Maclaren, D. D.)

When Richard Williams, of the Patagonian Mission, with his few companions, was stranded on the beach by a high tide, and at the beginning of the terrible privations which terminated his life, he wrote in his diary: "I bless and praise God that this day has been, I think, the happiest of my life. The fire of Divine love has been burning on the mean altar of my breast, and the torch light of faith has been in full trim, so that I have only had to wave it to the right hand or left, in order to discern spiritual things in heavenly places." Later, when severe illness was added to circumstantial distress, he could say, "Not a moment sits wearily upon me. Sweet is the presence of Jesus; and oh, I am happy in His love." Again, though held fast by fatal disease, he wrote: "Ah, I am happy day and night, hour by hour. Asleep or awake, I am happy beyond the poor compass of language to tell. My joys are with Him whose delights have always been with the sons of men; and my heart and spirit are in heaven with the blessed."

1. The chief grace which is tried in persecution is faith. Partly because it is the radical grace in the life of a Christian (Hebrews 2:4); we work by love, but live by faith; partly because this is the grace most exercised, sometimes in keeping the soul from using ill means and unlawful courses (Isaiah 28:16); sometimes in bringing the soul to live under gospel-comforts in the absence or want of worldly, and to make a Christian fetch water out of the rock when there is none in the fountain.

Use 1. You that have faith, or pretend to have it, must look for trials. Graces are not crowned till they are exercised; never any yet went to heaven without conflicts.

Use 2. You that are under trials, look to your faith (Luke 22:32).

(1)Hold fast your assurance in the midst of the saddest trials.

(2)Keep your hopes fresh and lively.

2. Many trials cause patience, that is, by the blessing of God upon them. Habits are strengthened by frequent acts; the more you act grace, the stronger; and often trial puts us upon frequent exercise (Hebrews 12:11).(1) It showeth how careful you should be to exercise yourselves under every cross; by that means you come to get habits of grace and patience: neglect causeth decay, and God withdraweth His hand from such as are idle: in spirituals, as well as temporals, "diligence maketh rich" (Proverbs 10:4).(2) It showeth that if we murmur or miscarry in any providence, the fault is in our own hearts, not in our condition.

3. It is an excellent exchange to part with outward comforts for inward graces. Fiery trials are nothing, if yon gain patience; sickness, with patience, is better than health; loss, with patience, is better than gain.

4. Patience is a grace of excellent use and value. We cannot be Christians without it; we cannot be men without it: not Christians, for it is not only the ornament, but the conservatory of other graces. How else should we persist in well-doing when we meet with grievous crosses? You see we cannot be Christians without it; so, also, not men. Christ saith, "In patience possess your souls" (Luke 21:19). A man is a man, and doth enjoy himself and his life by patience: otherwise we shall but create needless troubles and disquiets to ourselves, and so be, as it were, dispessessed of our own lives and souls — that is, lose the comfort and the quiet of them.

(T. Manton.)

I. The sufferer should look at THE HAND which sends the affliction. Patience springs out of faith.

II. The sufferer should look at THE PRESENT BENEFIT of affliction, which to a believer is unspeakably great.

III. The sufferer should look to THE END of his afflictions. God may perhaps see good not to bless us in this life, as He did His servant Job; but, oh, what glory will it be to hear it said of us at the last day, "These are they which came out of great tribulation," &c.

(W. Jowett, M. A.)

An iron railway-bridge is no stronger after its strength has been tried by running a dozen heavy trains over it than it was before. A gunbarrel is no stronger when it comes from the proof-house, and has had its strength tried by being fired with four or five times its proper charge, than it was before. But according to James, the "trials" which test our faith strengthen it; the "temptations" which assault our integrity confirm it.

(R. W. Dale, LL. D.)

People are always talking of perseverance and courage and fortitude, but patience is the finest and worthiest part of fortitude and the rarest too.

(John Ruskin.)

A perfect machine fulfils the object for which it is made, and a perfect Christian is one of such a character that he fulfils the object for which he has been made a Christian. "Entire, lacking in nothing," conveys the idea of being properly adjusted and arranged so that our avenues of temptation are properly guarded. A builder never thinks of putting a window in the floor or a door in the ceiling, and God would have our moral nature so adjusted that we may have everything in its place, and consequently "Entire, lacking in nothing."

(F. Montague Miller.)

It would be far easier, I apprehend, for nine men out of ten to join a storming party than to lie on a rack or to hang on a cross without repining. Yes, patience is a strength; and patience is not merely a strength, it is wisdom in exercising it. We, the creatures of a day, make one of the nearest approaches that is posssible for us to the life of God. Of God, St. has finely said, "Patiens quia aeternus Because He lives for ever, He can afford to wait."

(Canon Liddon.)

Let your hope be patient, without tediousness of spirit, or hastiness of prefixing time. Make no limits or prescriptions to God, but let your prayers and endeavours go on still with a constant attendance on the periods of God's providence. The men of Bethulia resolved to wait upon God but five days longer; but deliverance stayed seven days, and yet came at last.

(Jeremy Taylor, D. D.)

It is said that the immortal astronomer, whose genius discovered the laws which govern the movement of the planets, saw his great labours despised by his contemporaries. Reduced to extreme misery, he was on his death-bed, when a friend asked him if he did not suffer intensely in dying thus without seeing his discoveries appreciated. "My friend," replied Kepler, "God waited five thousand years for one of His creatures to discover the admirable laws which He has given to the stars, and cannot I wait, also, until justice is done me?" Take heed to these words you who are doing God's work. Labour, if necessary, without result; speak, although not listened to; love, without being understood; cast your bread upon the waters; and to subdue the world to the truth, walk by faith and not by sight.

(E. Bersier, D. D.)

Two little German girls, Brigitte and Wallburg, were on their way to the town, and each carried a heavy basket of fruit on her head. Brigitte murmured and sighed constantly; Wallbarg only laughed and joked. Brigitte said, "What makes you laugh so? Your basket is quite as heavy as mine, and you are no stronger than I am." Wallburg said, "I have a precious little herb on my load, which makes me hardly feel it at all. Put some of it on your load as well." "Oh," cried Brigitte, "it must indeed be a precious little herb! I should like to lighten my load with it; so tell me at once what it is called." Wallburg replied, "The precious little herb that makes all burdens.light is called patience."

We can all attain to a certain amount of proficiency at most things we attempt; but there are few who have patience to go on to perfection. Even in reference to things that we like, such as amusements, we are impatient. What is wanted to make even a good cricketer is, that patience should have its perfect work. "The gift of continuance" — that is what so many of us want. As a rule, the time required for the production of an effect measures the value of that effect. The things that can be developed quickly are of less value than those which require longer time. You can weed a garden or build a house in a much shorter time than you can educate a mind or build up a soul. The training of our reasoning faculties requires a longer time than the training of our hands. And moral qualities, being higher than intellectual, make an even greater demand upon the patience of their cultivator. Love, joy, peace, faith, gentleness, goodness, truth-fulness — with what perseverance in the diligent use of God's grace are these acquired! And this patience which we ought to have with ourselves, ought surely to be extended towards others — "Be patient towards all men." It need not surprise us that we cannot make others what we would like them to be, since we cannot make ourselves as we wish to be. Parents are often unreasonably impatient about the intellectual and moral development of their children. Those who labour for the elevation of the masses must have that faith and patience which work where results cannot be seen. If we may say so without irreverence, we would say that we must let patience have its perfect work in our thoughts about the government of God. In our impatience we wonder why He should be so tolerant of the thorns upon which we have to tread, instead of taking them away and strewing our path with rose-leaves. God sees that these thorns are better for us than rose-leaves. The way most persons accept misfortune is the greatest misfortune of all; while nothing is a misfortune if patience be allowed to have its perfect work. In the top room of one of the houses of a miserable court, which I know well, there lives an old woman crippled and deformed in every joint by chronic rheumatism. Listen! She speaks of her gratitude. For what? Because with the assistance of a knitting-needle and her thumb, the only joint that will move, she can turn over the leaves of her Bible.

(E. J. Hardy, M. A.)

If we consider the condition of those Jews to whom the apostle directs this Epistle, we shall find that as they were a dispersed, so they were aa afflicted and persecuted people. To these dispersed and distressed Christians, the apostle directs this his Epistle, and exhorts them, "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations" (ver. 2) — that is, when ye fall into divers tribulations; for by temptations here he means not the inward assaults of the devil, but the outward assaults of his instruments. A strange command, one would think, to bid them rejoice at such a time and in such circumstances as these 1 Now, in this are included two things, which should mightily futher their joy.

1. That all their sufferings are for the trial of their faith. God by these tries whether your faith be well-grounded and saving, or whether it be only temporary and flitting: tie tries whether it be weak or strong; whether it be able to support itself upon a promise, or wants the crutches of sense and visible enjoyments to bear it up; whether it be a faith that is wrought in you only by conviction, or a faith that hath wrought in you a thorough conversion; whether it be a faith wrought in you only by evidence of the truth, or a faith that is accompanied with a sincere love of the truth. And, therefore, rejoice in your afflictions: for these will help you to determine this important question. Certainly that Christian hath great reason to suspect himself who cannot rejoice that he is going to heaven, though God sends a fiery chariot to fetch him.

2. This trial of their faith worketh patience. The more a Christian bears, the more he is enabled to bear; his nerves and his sinews knit and grow strong under his burdens. And therefore also "count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations." If thy sorrows add any degree of fortitude to thy patience, thou hast far more reason to rejoice than to repine; for nothing in this present life is to be accounted good or evil, but only as it respects the advantage or disadvantage which our graces receive by it. "Let patience have her perfect work," and then you shall have cause to rejoice. Let her go on to finish what is begun; and then shall ye "be perfect and entire, wanting nothing." It is not enough that ye can bear some afflictions, and that only for some time; but if you will be perfect, as you must do the whole will of God, and that with constancy unto the end, so you must suffer the whole will of God, and put no earlier period to your patience than to your obedience. Patience ought not to prescribe, either to the kind, measure, or degree of our sufferings.From the words we may observe these two prepositions —

1. That a Christian's patience ought to accomplish all the work that is proper for it while he lies under afflictions: "Let patience have her perfect work."

2. That the perfection of patience is the perfection of a Christian: "That ye may be per. feet and entire, wanting nothing." And herein I shall prosecute this method.

I. WHAT IS THIS PATIENCE which a Christian ought to exercise and accomplish when he is under sufferings? It is a grace of God's Spirit wrought in the heart of a true Christian, whereby he is sweetly inclined quietly and willingly to submit to whatsoever the Lord shall think fit to lay upon him; calming all the passions which are apt to rise up in him against God's dispensations, with the acknowledgment of His infinite sovereignty, wisdom, justice, and mercy, in those afflictions which He is pleased to bring upon him. Negatively.

1. Patience is not a stoical apathy, or a senseless stupidity, under the hand of God. It is no narcotic virtue, to stupify us and take away the sense and feeling of afflictions. If it had any such opiate quality in it, it were not commendable; for that is no suffering which is not felt. And those who are stupified under the hand of God, and who take no notice of His judgments, are no more to be accounted patient than a block is when it is hewn and cut. Nay, patience is so far from taking away the sense of sufferings, that it rather quickens it. There is no man that more feels an affliction than a Christian doth; for he refers his chastisements to his deserts.

2. Patience doth not stifle all modest complaints and moderate sorrow. A patient Christian may well be allowed this vent for his grief to work out at. Grace never destroys, but only regulates and corrects nature. It will permit thee to shed tears, so long as they run clear, and the course of them doth not stir up the mud of thy sinful passions and violent affections. And, again, a patient Christian may make use of all the doleful signs of sorrow which God hath allowed and nature exacts, and yet his spirit not be moved beyond its due temper and consistency; like a tree whose boughs are agitated by every gust and storm of wind, when yet the root remains unmoved in the earth.

3. Patience doth not oblige us to continue under afflictions when we may lawfully and warrantably release ourselves from them. It doth not require us to solicit troubles. It is a sign of a vitiated palate if our physic taste not somewhat unpleasing to us; and of an obstinate mind if we be not careful to shun the discipline of the rod. If God bring sore, and perhaps mortal, diseases upon thee, it is not patience, but presumption, to refuse the means which are proper for thy recovery, under pretence that thou art willing to bear whatsoever it pleaseth God to lay upon thee.

4. Much less doth patience oblige us to invite sufferings. It is fortitude enough if we manfully stand their shock when they assault us; but it is temerity to provoke and challenge them. Neither is it patience to bear those invented severities which blind devotionalists inflict upon themselves: they may soon enough lash themselves into pain, but never into patience; this is a virtue which thongs and whipcord can never teach them. And thus I have showed you what patience is not.Positively. In patience there must be —

1. A quiet, willing submission to the hand of God.

2. A quieting of our unruly passions. A calming of all those impetuous storms which are apt to arise in a man's heart when he is under any heavy sufferings.

3. All this must be done upon right grounds. Indeed, there is a natural patience — a patience that may be found in natural men devoid of true grace — which proceeds only upon natural and moral principles: as, that it is folly to strive against fate, and that it is equally folly to torment ourselves about what we can help. And thus we see what this grace of patience is.

II. WHAT IS THE PROPER WORK OF PATIENCE.

1. The first work of patience is the quieting and composing the spirit of the afflicted. He is calm within, though his outward condition be full of storms (Acts 20:24).

2. Another work of patience is to put a stop to all immoderate complaints.

3. Another work of patience under sufferings is self-resignation to the sovereign will and disposal of Almighty God. And there be two notable ingredients which go to the composition of it — self-denial and submission.(1) Patience works the soul to a self-denying frame and temper. Fretfulness and impatience do always proceed from self-love. A cross lies very heavy upon a selfish man. And he that makes this world his all, must needs look upon himself as utterly ruined if God take from him that wherein he placeth his highest felicity; and therefore no wonder if he break out into passionate exclamations. But a truly patient soul puts a lower estimate upon these things; he values them, indeed, as comforts, but not as his chief good, otherwise he would have no patience in sustaining the loss of them. Yet still be looks not upon himself as undone; still he hath his God and his Christ, and his grace left. God doth but deny him that wherein he hath learned to deny himself.(2) As patience works the soul to a self-denying, so it does likewise to a submissive frame and temper. When it hath brought a man to renounce his own will, it then resolves him into the will of God. The will of His precept He hath made known unto us by His Word, and to that we ought to submit our wills by a cheerful performance of what He hath commanded. The will of His purpose He makes known unto us by His providence; and to that we ought to submit, by a quiet bearing of whatsoever He shall see good to inflict. Christ is willing not to have His own will, and so every patient Christian brings his will to this submission; that it is his will, that not his, but God's will should be fulfilled.

4. Another work of patience is a holy endearing of our afflictions to us; when it bring us to account them precious, as choice mercies bestowed upon us. Patience will make the soul thankful for corrections, esteeming it a token of God's special regard and condescension that He will vouchsafe to afflict us. We are all prone to think that God never minds us, but when He is continually heaping new mercies upon us; and if any calamity befall us, we presently fear that. God hath forgotten us; but patience teacheth a Christian to believe that in every affliction God doth most particularly regard our concerns; that He is as mindful of us when He chastises as when He favours us. And therefore we should account afflictions as dear a pledge of God's love as prosperity. And as weeds grow fastest in a fat and rank soil, so our corruptions thrive and are ready to overrun our souls when our outward condition is most prosperous; and therefore God's love and care of us constrain Him sometimes to use severe discipline.

5. Another work of patience is the reconciling of a man to the instruments of his sufferings, to make him willing to forgive them himself, and to pray to God for their pardon, who is far more offended by them than we can be.

6. Another work of patience is to obstruct all dishonourable or unlawful ways of deliverance from those sufferings under which we lie. Patience will not suffer a man to accept of deliverance if he cannot free the honour of God and the purity of his own conscience from stain, as well as his outward man from trouble.

III. WHEN IT IS THAT PATIENCE HATH ITS PERFECT WORK.

1. Patience hath, then, its perfect work when it is proportionable to the sufferings and affliction, under which we lie, and that both in duration and fortitude. And therefore —(1) If thy afflictions and sorrows be of long continuance, thy patience, that it may be perfect, must be prolonged. If thy patience wear off one day before thy trouble cloth, it hath not its perfect work. Now, then, O Christian 1 look upon thyself as a traveller, and make account that whatsoever burden God is pleased to lay upon thee, He may perhaps not take it off till thou comest to thy inn, to take up thy lodging in the grave.(2) Sometimes our sorrows and sufferings are very deep, our burdens very heavy and pressing; and God may give thee a deep draft of the bitter cup, and squeeze into it the very quintessence of wormwood. Now, in this case, that thy patience may be perfect, it must be strong, as well as lasting; it must have sinews in it, to bear weighty burdens (Proverbs 24:10).

2. That our patience may be perfect, it must be proportionable also to the need of the sufferer. For then hath patience its perfect work, when a man bears whatsoever is necessary for him. Now, both the cure and thy patience are then perfect when, of a proud and high-minded person, He hath brought thee to an humble and meek spirit; when, of a worldly and self-seeking person, He hath made thee a public-spirited and self-denying Christian; when, of a drowsy and secure, He hath made thee a vigilant, zealous, and active Christian.

3. That thy patience may be per-feet, it must be a joyful patience.

IV. That which remains is to ENFORCE upon you this exhortation of the apostle.

1. For the motives to patience, they are many and powerful. And such, indeed, they had need be, to persuade our fretful natures to the exercise of so hard a grace. Yet grace can work those wonders which nature cannot. And there be several considerations that will tend mightily to hush all the disturbances of our spirits, under all our sorrows and sufferings.(1) That there is nothing more necessary for a Christian, in the whole conduct of his life, than the work and exercise of patience (Hebrews 10:36). And this especial necessity of patience will appear, if we consider that our whole life is but a scene of sorrows and troubles. Consider that patience is necessary to alleviate and lighten the afflictions we suffer. The same burden shall not, by this means, have the same weight in it. There is a certain skill in taking up our load upon us to make it sit easy; whereas others, that take it up untowardly, find it most cumbersome. Let the very same affliction befall two persons — the one a patient, meek, and self-resigning soul; the other a proud, fretful wretch, that repines every disappointment — and with how much more ease shall the one bear it than the other! The burden is the very same; but only the one is sound and whole, and it doth not wring nor pinch him; but the other's impatience hath galled him, and every burden is more intolerable to him, because it lies upon a raw and sore spirit. It is not so much the wearing as the striving with our yoke that galls us; and as it is with beasts caught in a snare, so is it with impatient men — the more they struggle, the faster they draw the knot, and make their sufferings more uneasy and their escape more impossible.(2) Another motive to patience may be to consider who is the Author and Inflicter of all the sufferings which thou undergoest. Consider that God is the absolute and uncontrollable Sovereign of all the world. Consider that God is not only our Sore. reign, but He is our Proprietor. Consider the relation wherein God stands unto thee. Consider, again, that it is an infinitely wise God that afflicts thee; and, therefore, thou mayest well acquiesce in His providences. All thy sorrows are chosen out for thee by that God who doth inflict them. He knows the just proportion of what thou art to undergo. He is the Wise Physician, that knows what ingredients, and what quantities of each, are fittest for thee to take. He knows and considers the events and the consequences of things, which are hid in a profound obscurity from us short-sighted creatures. Possibly He intends the greatest mercy when Be brings the sorest trials upon thee. Consider God is a faithful God. To this let me add one consideration more concerning God; and that is, that He is the God of Patience (Romans 15:5). And that, not only as He is the God that requires patience from us; not only as He is the God that gives patience to us; not only as He is the God that doth own and crown patience in us; but as He is the God that doth Himself exercise infinite patience towards us. He bears more from us than we can possibly bear from Him.(3) Consider what thou hast deserved. And this will be a most unanswerable argument for patience under what thou feelest.(4) A fourth motive to patience may be the consideration of the great benefits and advantages that accrue to us by afflictions (Hebrews 12:11). As the ploughing up of a field seems utterly to spoil the beauty of it, when its smoothness and verdure are turned into rough and unsightly furrows, and all its herbs and flowers buried under deformed clods of earth; but yet, afterwards, in the days of harvest, when the fields laugh and sing for joy, when the furrows stand thick with corn and look like a boundless sea and inundation of plenty, they yield an incomparable delight to the eyes of the beholders and welcome sheaves into the bosom of the reapers; so when God ploughs up any of His children, it may seem a strange method of His husbandry thus to deform the flourishing of their present condition; but yet, afterwards, when the seed which He casts into these furrows is sprung up, both the wisdom and goodness of Divine Providence will be made apparent in thus converting a barren prosperity into a more fruitful adversity. Improvements and advantages that we may make of our afflictions. As they are the exercises of our graces, so they keep them lively and active. Exercise, you know, though it weary the body for the present, yet conduceth to its health and soundness. Afflictions are the soul's exercise, by which God keeps our graces in breath, which else would languish and he choked up. Indeed, experience and custom facilitate all things, and make that very easy which before we accounted difficult. All birds when they are first put into their cage fly wildly up and down, and beat themselves against their little prison, but within two or three days sit quietly upon their perch and sing their usual notes. So it fares with us. When God first brings us into straits, we wildly flatter up and down, and beat and tire ourselves with striving to get free; but at length custom and experience will make our narrow confinement spacious enough for us; and though our feet should be in the stocks, yet shall we, with the apostles, be able even there to sing praises to our God. Another advantage of afflictions is this: that they are physic to the soul, to expel and purge out its corruptions. A patient bearing of afflictions is a clear evidence of our adoption. Indeed, our sufferings only prove us to be the sons of Adam, on whom the curse is entailed through his primitive transgression; but our patience is a strong proof that we are the sons of God. All metals may be melted in the furnace; but it is the property of gold only to endure the fire, and lose nothing of its weight or worth. Consider that a patient suffering of affliction will make rich additions to the weight and splendour of thy crown of glory.(5) Another motive may be this: that a patient bearing of affliction is a very great honour, both to ourselves and to God. To ourselves (consult 1 Peter 4:14; 1 Peter 1:7). It brings in a great revenue of glory unto God.(6) Consider that patience under afflictions is the best way to be freed from afflictions. (a) If they be immediately from men, patience is of such a sweet, winning nature, that, unless they have quite divested humanity, they cannot long persevere in a causeless wronging of those who quietly bear and pass by their former injuries. Patience withdraws fuel from wrath: it finds no new occasion to stir up strife by opposition. If our sufferings be immediately from God, a patient bearing of them will the sooner put a period to them; because usually one great end why God doth afflict us is to teach us patience.(7) Consider that all thy sufferings in this life are in themselves tolerable. They are but the infirmities of a man, which the spirit of a man may bear; for they are only partial. All thy afflictions and sufferings have a great mixture of mercy in them.(8) Consider how many thousands in the world are in a far worse condition than yourselves, and would account themselves happy were they in your circumstances.(9) As another motive to patience, consider of how short duration and continuance all the troubles and afflictions of this life are. Though your way be thorny and miry, yet it is but short. Let thy afflictions be as grievous as thy passion can describe them, yet doth God afford thee no lucid intervals? Hast thou no intermission from thy sorrows? This is mercy, and this time of thy refreshment ought not to be reckoned into the suffering, as commonly it is. Indeed, men have got an art of making their sorrows longer than they are. Ask one who labours under a chronic distemper how long he hath been troubled with it; straight he will tell you for so many months or for so many years, when yet, perhaps, the greater part of that time he enjoyed ease and freedom between the returning periods of his disease. If thou hast been long under afflictions, yet perhaps they have been varied. Even this is mercy, that He will not strike long upon one place, nor scourge thee where thou art sore already.(10) The tenth, and last, motive to patience, which ought to be very effectual with all true Christians, shall be taken from the example of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Consider that His sufferings were infinitely greater than any that we can possibly undergo. Consider that all His unknown sufferings were not for His own, but for our offences.

2. The next thing in order is to show those distempers of spirit which are great hindrances of patience, and give a very great advantage to every cross to ruffle and discompose it. And they are such as these —(1) An effeminate softness and delicacy of spirit, when the mind is lax and fluid and hath not its due consistency. Consider the indecency and unbecomingness of impatience. It sits ill upon a man, and renders him contemptible and ridiculous. Consider the vanity and folly of impatience. To what purpose is it that thou torturest yourself? Couldst thou relieve thyself by it, this might be some reasonable pretence. Consider that impatience is not only unseemly and foolish, but it is unchristian too. There is nothing more directly contrary to the true spirit and genius of Christianity.(2) Another great hindrance of patience is a fond love and admiration of these creature enjoyments.(3) Another great hindrance to patience is pride and self-love.(4) Reflecting too much upon the instruments of our sufferings is oftentimes a mighty hindrance to the composure and patience of our spirits. And there are these considerations, that make us impatient under sufferings. The meanness and contemptible vileness of the instrument. It heightens impatience when we reflect upon the nearness of those who are the occasions and instruments of our sufferings. It many times heightens impatience to reflect upon the base ingratitude and foul disingenuity of those from whom we suffer.(5) Reflecting upon a former more prosperous condition is oftentimes a great provocation unto impatience under our present sufferings.

(Bp. E. Hopkins.)

The word "temptations" here includes bodily temptations to evil, but not alone these; all forms of trial of every kind as well. Now, what is the attitude of men, even the best, when the clouds gather about them, when one desire after another is balked, and when one fear after another is fulfilled? Men settle down into gloom. They are very apt to fall into complaints and dolorous lamentations. But the Apostle James says to them, "Count it all joy" when adversity and various trials of the spirit come on you. Where we come into life with comparatively untrained forces, in ignorance of the old-established laws, with social liabilities and desires that seek to be fulfilled, we require a long period of time in which to develop; and when men's desires are unfulfilled and are thwarted, that condition of things makes a man more manly. It drives him from his lower up into his higher nature. For see, "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations, knowing this," etc. Is that, then, the result of patience? Is that homely quality so wonderful as to be praised in that way, that all your trials work faith, and faith works patience, and patience makes the perfect man? Is patience the sign of perfection in a man? It is that supreme quality by which a man reins in his forces, places himself willingly where God, by His providence, allots him, and is superior to his circumstances; where he has that consideration for himself, as a child of God and an heir of immortality, that no condition upon earth can daunt him. A king in disguise, wandering incognito through different lands, brought oftentimes to great straits, obliged to company with peasants, to gnaw their black bread, suffer hunger and thirst, oftentimes pushed hither and thither. But he lives within himself, and says, "How absurd for me, who am a king, who have revenues in abundance, to be put in these conditions. Here I am treated as any peasant; I am shoved here and there, and nobody takes any account of me. In a few weeks or days, at most, I shall recover myself, and sit again in high places." So a man in this life, knowing himself to be God's son, the heir of eternal glory, knocked about by various circumstances here and there and everywhere, has a legitimate pride in his birthright. It is just exactly under such circumstances that pride is legitimate. It lifts one up into a consciousness of his superiority to everything when he is pushed this way, that way, or the other by conflicting troubles and by trial. The conception of the apostle is that the difficulties and temptations of every kind in this mortal life really drive us up into the higher elements of our nature, practise us in them, make us more sanctified men, veterans, as distinguished from militia untried in the field, old men of wisdom and experience as compared with young men just coming into the trial of life. Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations, because it is going to make men of you, going to make you hardy, going to thrust you up upon higher considerations, that are more becoming to you than the mere gain of ease and comfort and desires fulfilled. We see it to be, then, one of the most important qualities, as it works for manhood, to have this conception of ourselves as superior, by the grace of God, to all the accidents and conditions of this mortal life. Are griefs oppressive? By the grace of God I am able to bear grief, saith the Christian hero. Does one suffer lack? I am able to do without abundance. Am I despised and thrust aside? I am able to be despised and rejected. Now look at this matter more largely. Patience is the indispensable condition of mankind, unless they are at the seminal point. A savage and lazy Oriental, in a climate that takes away all courage and enterprise, does not have much patience. He does not want anything. He sits still, without desire, without enterprise, without out-reaching, without grasp, except in momentary fury. Just in proportion to the eminence of a man's sphere and the genius of a man's endowments, the quality of patience is necessary. Necessary, in the first place, because it is not possible for a man to have at once all he wants, or to regulate his wants and nature so that his supplies shall come in their order and in their gradation just as he needs them. Let us consider a few of the conditions in which men are placed where patience is necessary.

1. In the sphere of personal life, patience is a virtue. The ambitions of youth, the far-reaching before we are prepared for manhood, need it.

2. Now, in the household, and in early life generally, there are a thousand things that call for simple patience. The household is a little kingdom. It is a little sphere of light, held together by love, the best emblem and commentary upon Divine government there is. And yet how much there is in the household that frets! In the household there are the seeds of disturbance and confusion. But — patience, patience! You have need of patience in all the various experiences of the household, the collisions that come from differing natures seeking to fit themselves together; developments of all those practical qualities that enable men to live together, not only in patience, but in harmony, making the unity of the family produce every day, as it were, harmonious music. All these things require that men should have faith, and faith is the father of patience — that is to say, that prescience which enables a man to look forward to see that these things must be, and to wait for them, expecting them.

3. So in all the conflicts of business, the misunderstandings of men, the untrustworthiness of men, the rivalries of men, promises not fulfilled, disappointments of every kind. Ye have need of patience in all the conflicts of business. Do not give up. What if to-day is yesterday turned bottom side up, to-morrow it will turn the right way again. What if the cloud does lower to-day? The sun will strike through by and by. What if the rain has come? It has come on you that are able to bear it. A man in all these contingencies of life, in the strife for position and influence, and for wealth, whether it be large or moderate, meeting various troubles and succumbing to them, is scarcely to be called a man. But if he rises in spite of his difficulties, that man is made stronger and larger by his troubles in civil, social, or business life. Ye have need of patience, saith the apostle, that after ye have fulfilled the will of God, ye wait to receive the reward.

4. Even in higher degree do men need patience when they are workers in the moral sphere. Human nature works upward very slowly and irregularly. New truths and new views require a long time. A farmer goes out and gets his phosphate, and puts it on the seed over-night, and says, "We will see in the morning what it has done." He goes out, and says, "Well, it ain't done a bit of good." No, not in a night. Ministers sow sermons on congregations, and think they will come up in a minute. But they will not come up in a good many minutes. By and by, little by little, by those and other influences, men will rise. There is nothing in this world that is so slow as the building of a man. In the process of building him an immense amount of time is consumed. A man gives out his plan of a house to an architect, and goes to Europe. In six months' time he comes back, and thinks he is going to move right in. When he arrives at the spot, there is nothing but brick and stone, and mortar and scaffolding, and all sorts of litter, dirt, and confusion. He is amazed at it. But in proportion to the elaborateness and largeness of the dwelling is the time that is required to construct it. So it is with moral ideas in the community, educating the whole people, enabling men to look without prejudice upon truth, and bringing them forward step by step. It is very slow work, and ministers, reformers, teachers of schools, parents, and all those whose desires are set for the furtherance of the welfare of men, have need of patience, great patience. Still one thing more. "Let patience have her perfect work." Raw patience does not amount to much. Ripe patience means a great deal; not that patience which is momentary and fugitive, but that which is settled down and become chronic. How beautiful it is to see a man or woman who has come to the state of ripe patience — the serene face of the matron, on whom all sweetness and goodness wait, who is living just at the golden sunset of her life, and who has been through trials unnamed — for the great sorrows of this life never come to the surface; broken-hearted almost, yet, by her faith in God, enduring till one and another thing is removed, and her life at last is completed, and she stands in the golden light, waiting. How beautiful is the serenity of victorious age that has not been overthrown, that has gone through the rugged way, and across Jordan into the promised land! How noble, too, is the heroic patience of men willing to give their lives for their kind, without selfish ends, with noble and heroic aspirations, waiting, waiting.

(H. W. Beecher.)

1. The perfection of our graces is not discovered till we are put upon great trials. As a pilot's skill is discerned in a storm, so is a Christian's grace in many troubles.

2. The exercise of grace must not be interrupted till it be full and perfect. Ordinary spirits may be a little raised for a time, but they fall again (Galatians 5:7). It is not enough to begin; our proceedings in religion must lie answerable to our beginnings. While you are in the world, go on to a more perfect discovery of patience, and follow them theft "through faith," and a continued "patience have inherited the promises" (Hebrews 6:12).

3. Christians must press on to perfection. "That ye may be perfect and entire, nothing wanting."(1) Christians will be aspiring to absolute perfection. They are led on to growth by this desire: they hate sin so perfectly that they cannot be quiet till it be utterly abolished. First, they go to God for justification, then for sanctification, then for glorification. And as they are bent against sin with a keen hatred, so they are carried on with an importunate desire of grace. They that have true grace will not be contented with a little grace; no measures will serve their turn.(2) Christians must be actually perfect in all points and parts of Christianity. As they will have faith, they will have patience; as patience, love, and zeal.(3) They aim at the perfection of duration, that, as they would be wanting in no part of duty, so in no part of their lives. Subsequent acts of apostasy made our former crown to wither (2 John 8).

(T. Manton.)

I. THE NATURE OF PATIENCE.

1. It is a grace of the Holy Spirit, and is not to be confounded with that constitutional hardiness, or apathy of mind, which renders some men insensible to the most affecting events.

2. It is manifested in a cheerful submission to the trials of life. The good man perceives the mercy there is in God's frowns, and the kindness there is in His strokes.

3. It is manifested in the steadfast pursuit of religion in spite of all its difficulties.

4. It is manifested in forbearance and kindness to our fellowmen.

5. It is shown in the steadfast expectation of the blessings of grace and glory.

II. THE IMPORT OF THIS EXHORTATION.

1. This intimates that our patience should rise to the highest improvements of which it is susceptible. We must labour to attain such measures of this grace as to glorify providence in the whole of its dealings with us.

2. It intimates that we should endeavour to persevere in the exercise of this grace to the end, in spite of the increase of our troubles.

III. THE MOTIVE WE THIS CONDUCT WHICH THE TEXT SUGGESTS. Attention to the state of the primitive Christians will lead us to the true import of the apostle's language. Their faith in the gospel and their attachment to its Author were strong, they had enabled them to overcome prejudices in favour of the Jewish religion which they had long fondly cherished. They had enabled them to relinquish the esteem of their bigoted countrymen, which had formerly been their solace amidst the indignities of the heathen, and to unite themselves with the followers of the Lord Jesus in spiritual worship and in pure benevolence. Now, as to these principles, they might be ready to imagine that they constituted the whole of the Christian character; but, though essential parts of it, more was still requisite. Patience was a grace which it was necessary they should cultivate most assiduously. It is a principal feature in the character of Christ. In this motive the apostle may be considered as intimating the influence of patience in securing and improving the other graces of religion. It keeps the shield of faith firm on the breast, and the fire of love flaming in the heart. It keeps the hands of prayer from falling down, and the song of praise from becoming cold or careless. Where patience hath its perfect work it hath as powerful an influence on happiness as on goodness. No anxiety can harass, end no despair cloud the heart where it rules. Conclusion: I shall give you a few counsels to aid you in the cultivation of this principle.

1. Be frequent in your prayers to the God of patience, that He may confirm you to the end.

2. Study with care the character of Jesus, and especially His patience.

3. Converse frequently with your companions in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ. You should state your sorrows to each other, not to give vent to a querulous temper, but to solicit aid in presenting such considerations as may animate your resolution and confirm your fortitude.

4. Search the Scriptures daily. The Bible is the word of Christ's patience. There you will see a goodly company who, through faith and patience, inherit the promises, and there the most animating motives are presented to excite you to follow them.

5. Think on the lustre which this will shed on the religion yea profess. This has been one of the boasts of philosophy, that it has made men superior to the evils of life; and nothing will degrade Christianity more, in the estimation of such men, than a querulous temper in its followers.

6. Think on the approbation which Christ will express of the perfect work of patience (Revelation 2:19).

(H. Belfrage, D. D.)

I never feel more strongly the divinity and perfectness of the Christian system, than in reading the works of those classic authors whose morality makes the nearest approach to the Christian standard. The chief fault that I find with Seneca is his omission of patience from his list of virtues; and from this omission, unessential as some might deem it, there flow the most fatal consequences. He gives many admirable precepts for contending with the evils of life, and destroying their power by exterminating them. But if they exceed mortal strength, and cannot be overcome, he represents it as beneath a wise or a brave man to bear them, when it is so easy to leap out of existence. The very field of discipline, which the heathen moralist thus precluded for his disciple, is that on which the precepts and example of Jesus are the most full and clear. Courage is an occasional act or effort of the soul; patience, a continuous habit. Courage is the mission of some; patience, the duty of all. Courage courts observation, and sustains itself by every possible outward stimulus; patience is lonely and quiet, its warfare is within. Courage may give its strength to evil, and may nerve the arm of the thief or the manslayer; patience dwells only in the bosom of piety, and always beholds the face of her Father in heaven. I now ask your attention to a few remarks designed to illustrate the necessity and the means of cultivating the virtue of patience, and the mode in which it so reacts upon the whole character as to make the patient disciple "perfect and entire, lacking nothing." The necessity of this virtue can hardly be overrated. Our Saviour said, with literal truth, "In the world ye shall have tribulation." Who escapes it? No one can feel more fully than I do that God has placed us in a good world, and has put within the reach of us all a large preponderance of happiness over misery. And these visitations of Providence are not momentary, so that they can be met by a sudden and defiant effort; but they are prolonged, spreading out into the future, and the end is not yet, but is beyond our calculation.

1. Among the means of cherishing patience I would first name a deep and enduring sense of the love of God, and of the merciful purpose of all His dispensations. This we all confess in words; but we must feel it. This needed faith in a fatherly Providence parents should teach their children, when they are full of joy; and the young, prosperous, and always happy should grow into it more and more in daily adoration and thanksgiving. There has been, there is, enough in the life of each of us, if we would only ponder upon it, to draw forth the confession, with gratitude too full for utterance, "God has nourished me as a child — in ways and times without number He has revealed Himself as my Father and my Friend." This spirit will give us patience when the evil days come. We shall know that afflictions are but altered forms of mercy, ordained with kind purpose and for a blessed ministry, that outward trial is sent to heal inward disease. We shall lean in faith upon a Father, whose ways seem dark to us only because we are children and fall short of our Father's wisdom. Our trust will be confirmed by exercise and deepened by experience, so that every new period of trial will give to patience its more and more perfect work.

2. Again, patience derives nourishment from the hope of heaven, not from the mere belief in immortality, but from the personal appropriation and consciousness of it. We think little of a rough road or a bad inn, if the end of our journey is near and attractive. We cheerfully encounter temporary inconveniences if fully assured that they are to be followed by long and unbroken quietness and prosperity. Did we let our contemplations rest habitually on eternity, all our earthly trials would in like manner seem light and short, and not worthy to be compared with the joy set before us.

3. Patience receives also ample support from the life and example of Jesus. In Him the disciple learns that whom the Lord loves He chastens. Yet we behold Him calm, submissive, trustful. Not a murmur escapes Him, not an unconditional prayer for relief. His patience is tried at every point, both by the mysterious hand of an afflictive Providence, and by the malice and scorn of the wicked. But this life is a school for heaven, and we are accustomed to believe that we learn lessons here to practise there. Is net patience an exception? We can have no occasion for its exercise in heaven; why, then, assign it so prominent a place in the Christian character? This question will be best answered by considering the uses of patience.(1) Under this head I first remark that there is one work which we must all accomplish, would we enter heaven, namely, the formation of spiritual characters, the establishment of the supremacy of the inward over the outward, of the soul over sense, of things unseen and eternal over things seen and temporal. This, however performed, is an arduous process; but perhaps not more so for those whose discipline is that of protracted suffering, than for the prosperous and happy. But for those who are rich, and full, and strong, if they would reach favoured places in the heavenly kingdom, there must be a course of self-restraint, self-denial, and self-renunciation. And herein lies one essential office of patience, in the spiritual-ising of the character, and how beautifully and effectually it does this many of us can testify, from our having felt nearer heaven in the abode of penury, or by the bed of chronic illness, than in the gayest and brightest scenes that have fallen within our experience.(2) Then, again, in no form does a Christian example seem more attractive, and win more honour to the Christian name and character, than in patience under severe trial and suffering. Piety, indeed, is in the sight of God the same, under whatever form; but by man it cannot be equally appreciated in all conditions of life. In prosperity and joy, there will always be the sneering and sceptical, who will repeat Satan's question, "Doth Job serve God for naught?" But touch the disciple in his dearest earthly interests, and if he then holds fast his faith, and if he talks of the goodness of God, and manifestly dwells in inward peace, there is no room left for cavilling. God means that we should all be examples to one another; that, while we save our own souls, we should shine for the salvation of others; and that thus the world should from generation to generation become more and more filled with lights on the heavenward path. This office, as I have said, seems to be performed with superior felicity and power by those whose mission it is to suffer rather than to do.(3) I remark that patience is not a virtue to which even death sets limits. It belongs to heaven and to eternity. What I you ask, patience in heaven? Will there be suffering there? By no means. But what is patience? It is implicit trust, exercised in the darker scenes and vicissitudes of life. These scenes will brighten into the perfect day, these vicissitudes will be merged in the great change, when the corruptible puts on incorruption; but the faith of which they were the theatre will live for ever, and be for ever needed. There will be mysteries in heaven as well as here: things to be taken on faith before they can be fully known, portions of the vast administration of God, in which, in our ignorance, we must cast ourselves in humble reliance on His wisdom and goodness. I have thus spoken of the necessity, the aids, and the uses of patience. It makes life beautiful. It sheds a calm and heavenly glory upon the bed of death.

(A. P. Peabody.)

In the New Testament" patience," in almost every case, has a reference to what has to be endured or suffered rather than to what has to be accomplished. Nor is this to be wondered at. The first age of Christianity was an age of labour, but it was more conspicuously an age of endurance. Since that age Christianity has become a conquering religion as well as a suffering religion. The spirit of patience takes a wider range now; and instead of meaning endurance under suffering, it takes in all the difficulties which come in the way of well-doing, and embraces all that might come under the word "perseverance." Let me notice some points in the nature of the Christian life which demand this spirit of patience or perseverance.

I. THE KINGDOM OF GOD SNARES, WITH ALL THE WORKS OF GOD, THE CHARACTER OF GROWTH and those who are fellow-workers with Him must accept the laws and conditions of His kingdom, and must, perhaps, wait long. I need hardly dwell on this fact of the growth of the kingdom of God. Take any single element of the character of a good man, or of a Church, or of a nation, and you see how impossible it is that it should all at once attain to perfection. Time, experience, are necessary. And perhaps the greater the virtue is, and the greater the work to be done, the slower will be the growth. It is so in the natural world, where the strongest tree, or the most sagacious and vigorous animal, comes to maturity after many years of slow growth. Civilisation is slow of growth; art, learning, high character in races and in individuals, all are of slow growth; but slower still is the development of religion, of high Christian virtue and character, whether in men or nations. What has strengthened the Christian graces of good men, their wisdom, their faith, their charity, their spirit of watchfulness, their faithfulness? Was it not the daily struggle against evil, the daily need of resorting to God for help, the falling back upon great eternal truths in the heart? If a man had all he wanted at the outset, he might, after a long life, be worse off than when he began. Certainly he would be deficient in many good qualities, and his inner character would be less complete. In countries where the inhabitants can live without labour, civilisation makes no advance; they have all they need, and in vain do you ask them to put forth efforts to rise higher in knowledge or in skill. But not less is the training of the soul in what is spiritual the fruit of opposition and hindrance. The hardest thing in the world is to do good, to chase away the prejudices and the errors and the bad habits which have taken root in the world. If a man could accomplish all this as by the magic wand, would he himself be as good a man as if he had been obliged to reach his end by the long laborious process of thinking and revising his thoughts, restraining his spirit, looking in upon himself, and upward to the Source of all purity and wisdom? Christ prepared His followers for all this. By His parables, by His life, by His death, He taught His disciples that opposition, defeat, and apparent destruction were, or might be, parts of the history of His Church, and that the harvest might only be reaped after long ages of waiting. This growth — so slow, so uncertain in outward appearance, so often advancing when it seems to have ceased, this growth of the kingdom of God in the individual — calls for a spirit of patience on the part of those who belong to the kingdom of God.

II. PATIENCE IN THE WORK OF GOD IS NECESSARY BECAUSE IT IS NO PART OF THE CONDITION OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE TO SEE RESULTS. Results of some sort we ask to see, and results of some sort we do see; but the full sum of our labours it may require more than one generation to see. The man of clear judgment and pure feeling will doubtless, before his career is ended, enjoy the sight of many persons who have caught his spirit and character. But even that reward comes by patience. I do not speak of the individual only, I speak of the Church and of the world.

III. THE SPIRIT OF PATIENCE IN CHRISTIAN WORK AND DUTY IS THE ONLY SPIRIT WHICH REALLY APPREHENDS THE RIGHT CHARACTER OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH. The spirit of patience is not measured by the reward or the result. The whole essence Of Christianity is a contest with what is evil and wrong. It is presumptuous, and in the highest degree unbelieving, in us to say, "I shall not take part in this tremendous conflict until I know what is to come out of it, and what good is to be done." The essential impulse of the Christian spirit is to set itself of the side of what is right and pure and true, irrespective of the issue. I know there are amongst us cases where, again and again, there has arisen, as if prompted by stern necessity, the suggestion that some work on behalf of an individual, or a class of individuals, may as well be thrown up. It comes to nothing. Is there any use doing more? What do you mean? The struggle is not a contest for one individual or for many; it represents the whole question of the supremacy of good or evil, the whole question of our faith in God, the whole question of our hope in the destiny of man. But the question may well arise in every heart, "What right have I to ask that all my plans and purposes shall succeed, or that any one of them shall?" Where do we see universal success free from mischance? In what region of nature do we find gain without loss, progress without decay? Everywhere we see a capacity for life and growth cut short and perish. We never, see in other cases what we so rigorously demand in our own. And what are we, it may well be said, what are we that an exception should be made on our behalf, and that we should never encounter disappointment and failure?

(A. Watson, D. D.)

Patience is not there to begin with. It is no inborn grace, like love. It comes to us by and by, and tries to find room in our nature, and to stay and bless us, and so make us altogether its own. The first thing we are aware of in any healthy and hearty child is the total absence and destitution of this spirit of patience. No trace of it is to be discovered in the eager, hungry outcries, and the aimless, but headstrong struggles against things as they are. Buff presently Patience comes, and rests on the mother's lifted finger as she shakes it at the tiny rebel, and puts a tone he had never heard before within the tender trills of her voice, and he looks up with a dim sort of wonder, as if he would say, What is that? Then, in a few years, she looks at him out of the face of the old kitchen clock. It seems impossible that this steady-going machine should be so impassive, and persist in that resistless march; should not be quick to strike the hour he would drag before its time out of the strong heavens, or should not delay a little as he sits in the circle when the day is done, and dreads the exodus, at the stroke of eight, to his chamber. Poor little man! he has got into the old sorrow. It is not the clock, but the sun and stars he would alter, and the eternal ways. Then, as the child passes into the boy, he has still to find this angel of patience. It is then very common for him to transfer his revolt from the sun to the seasons. If he is in the country, he rebels at the slow, steady growth of things; they never begin to come up to his demand. It is with all boys as it was with John Sterling. His father gave him a garden-bed, to till as he would; and he put in potatoes. They did not appear when be thought they should; so he dug them out, and put in something else; and so he kept on digging in and out, all one summer, because the things sprouted and bloomed at once in his hot little heart, like Jonah's gourd. It was an instance of the whole boy life. Nature can never come up to his notion of what she ought to do until Patience comes to help him. But your big, healthy boy fights it out, hard and long; nothing is just as he wants it. Christmas comes like a cripple, and school, when the holidays are over, like a deer. It is a shame cherries and apples will not ripen sooner, and figures find their places more tractably, and geographies run as straight as a line. It is easy to see, again, that these habits of the child and boy are only the germs of a larger impatience in the youth and the prime. We soon get our lesson from the angel about the kitchen clock and the courses of the sun, and the limits of our power to make this world turn the other way. We learn to come to time, and set ourselves to its steady dictation in all common things; and patience, so far, has her perfect work. I wonder to see the patience of some children, at last, about what they know they have got to do and be, in their tasks and strivings. But if the boy does learn all he ought to learn about times and seasons, and tasks and treats, and lines and limits, it is very seldom that the lesson holds good as he begins the march to his manhood, or when he gets there. Patience, then, has to teach him deeper things: time still says one thing and his desire another, and he hungers again for what God has forbidden in the very condition of his life. But now it is unspeakably more serious than it was ten years ago, as she comes to him and tries to teach him her great lesson. She has to remember what myriads of young men, strong, and eager, and headstrong as he is, have broken away from her after all. Fortune and position, weight for weight, with what faculty the Maker has given him, is just as sure to come to a man in this country as the crop to the farmer, and the web to the weaver, if he will only let this angel have her perfect work. Travellers in India tell us they have seen a magician make an orange tree spring, and bloom, and bear fruit all in half an hour. That is the way many believe fortune ought to come. They cannot wait for its patient, steady, seasonable growth. Patience comes and whispers, "It wilt never do; the perfect work is only that done by my spirit; the magician can never bring his thirty-minute oranges to market, because they can never nourish anybody as those do that come in the old Divine fashion, by the patient sun and seasons." He gives no heed to the wise, sweet counsels; takes his own way; and then if he wins, finds that somehow he has lost in the winning; the possession is not half so good as the expectation: but the rule is, that the man who will not let Patience have her perfect work in building up his position and fortune, ends bare of both, and has nothing but a harvest of barren regrets. No man, again, comes to middle age without finding that this is the truth about all the noble sensations that give such a colour and grace to our life, and are such loyal ministrants to its blessing, if we can say "No" to the enemies of our good angel when they come and counsel us to disregard her ways, to let our passions take the bit in their teeth, and go tearing where they will. Twenty years ago last June, when I had been a few weeks in this country, I tasted, for the first time in my life, an exquisite summer luxury; and it seemed so good that I thought I could never get enough of it. I got some more, and then some more, and then I found, for the first time, I think, what it is to have too much of a good thing. The angel is there with his flaming sword, insisting that I shall only eat of it out of Eden. It has been to me ever since a parable of this deep old verity. I disregarded the angel whispering, "You had better take care; if you eat that for a steady diet, through a whole June day, you do it in spite of me; the hunger for some more, which has been growing all your life, is a pledge that the good of this will abide with you as long as you live if you will always let hunger wait on appetite." I had no idea of doing that. Impatience got the rein, and I gathered and ate the whole harvest of that good thing between dawn and dark. Every glass of wine, or dram of whiskey, drunk by a healthy and strong young man, is an insult and injury to this good angel, and makes it so far impossible for her to do her perfect work, because he is spending ahead of his income of life, and bringing a fine power of being to beggary, if not to worse than that. He can only get that glow and flame at a heavy discount, both of life itself and of all that makes life worth living. Patience would help him to infinitely finer pleasures from her simple and wholesome stores, and they would stay with him as long as he lived; but he will not listen to her counsels, and will have none of her reproofs; therefore will she weep at his calamities, and mock when his dole cometh. There is a whole world of evils of very much the same sort, some more fatal still than the one I have named. It is the same thing whichever way we turn. Nature says one thing, and desire another. Only the perfect work of Patience can make both one, and then the result of both is grace. This is true, first, of our relation to one another. The very last thing most of us can learn of our relations to each other is to let Patience have her perfect work. Very few fathers and mothers learn the secret this angel is waiting to tell them about their children until perhaps the last is born. It is probable that he will give more trouble than any one of the others. Then love and duty were the motive powers; now it is love and patience. Patience is the only angel that can work with love. To refuse her blessing is to refuse God's holiest gift, after what He has given us in the child's own being. I think the day is yet to dawn when fathers and mothers will feel that they would rather scourge themselves as the old anchorites did, than scourge their little ones; and will not doubt that they, and not the child, deserve it, when they feel like doing it. The fruit ripens at last all right, if we have the grace to let the sun shine on it, and to guard it from the destroyer. All the tendencies of our time to give children the right to have a great deal of their own way, are good tendencies, if we will understand that their own way is of course the right way, as certainly as a Climbing vine follows the turn of the sun: all we have to do is carefully and patiently to open the right way for them wherever they turn. Patience, again, must have her perfect work in our whole relation to our fellow-men. It is very sad to read of the shameful things that have been done in the name of religion, for the sake of conformity: how the fagot has burned, and the rack has wrung. Want of patience, indeed, apart from the vilest reasons, must be the main cause for the dreadful rank growth of this evil weed of divorce in our social life. If they did love each other once, they will never find such blessing as could come to them, with patience as the aid to their affections. Human souls have an imperial quality in them; a turn for insisting on being master; and when they come so close together as husband and wife, and love recovers his sight, as he will, Patience must take up her part and adjust the thing by a constitution of equal rights, and by an equal giving up of rights, or, in spite of love, there will come infinite trouble. We have very much the same thing to learn in our relation to each other in the whole length and breadth of our life. Ministers with their people, and people with their ministers; employers with their servants, and servants with their employers; men in their dealings with men, and women in their judgments of women. For, finally, there must be a Divine impatience, too. Jesus Christ felt it now and then; but you have to notice that it is never with weakness or incompleteness, or even folly or sin; for all these He had only forbearance and forgiveness, and pity and sympathy. What roused Him, and made His heart throb, and His face glow, and His voice quiver with a Divine indignation, was the hollow pretence and ugly hypocrisy He had to encounter, and the judgments one man made of another out of a sense of superior attainment. That is our right, as much as it was His right, as we grow towards His great estate. Last of all, for this angel of Patience we must cry to heaven.

(R. Collyer.)

I. We ought to learn this lesson, in the first place, because of THE COMFORT IT GIVES. Patience means not getting put out when things do not turn out just as we wish. Look at Job. Look at Abraham. And then look at Jacob. An old proverb says, "Patience is the remedy for all troubles." The best remedy for hard times is patience. Patience stifles anger, and sweetens the temper, and subdues pride. Patience bridles the tongue, so that it shall not speak in anger, and holds back the hand from striking in wrath. Patience makes us humble in prosperity, and cheerful in adversity. Patience comforts the poor, and restrains the rich.

II. In the second place, we ought to learn this lesson because of THE GOOD IT DOES. When a ship is going to sea, it is necessary for her to be properly ballasted. The ballast steadies the vessel, and enables her to meet the storms and billows in her way with safety. This shows us what good patience can do.

III. But there is a third reason why we should try to learn this lesson, and that is because of THE HELP WE HAVE in doing so. We have great help given, in seeking to learn this lesson, from the examples of those who have learned and practised it before us. Suppose we are trying to climb up a steep mountain. We find it very hard work. If we see no footprints of others, we may say, "No one has ever been along this path before. Perhaps it is impossible to reach the top of the mountain. What is the use of trying?" We feel discouraged, and cease striving. But if the path is well worn, and there are footprints, we know that many people have gone up the mountain: then we may feel encouraged to keep on climbing to the very top. And so, when we have examples of those who have learned the lesson of patience, and in whom "patience has had its perfect work," then we may feel encouraged to try and learn this lesson for ourselves. How patient Jesus was all the days of His life on earth!" When He was reviled, He reviled not again; when He suffered, He threatened not." But this lesson of patience can be learned only by the help of God's grace.

(R. Newton, D. D.)

Patience is spoken of by the apostle in the text as having a work to do. Our work as men, as Christians, in this world is to strive to be more like God, more like Christ, in ourselves, in our home lives, our business lives, our duty, our pleasure; and this cannot be done without patience. Now patience has two main qualities which enable her to do her perfect work. Patience is willing to wait; secondly, patience is willing to endure. There is an old proverb, "All things come to him who can wait," a proverb which commends itself to those who observe how in this world's affairs hurry and worry hinder success, or spoil it, if gained. How often excitement or irritation mar the best laid plans, rendering a man useless or harmful at critical moments. Patience that is willing to wait is necessary even to energetic persons, eager to make money, and, as it is called, "to get on in the world." They learn by experience that energy out of season is wasted, if not harmful, and so they bide their time, and are patiently watchful for opportunity. Now, if this is true in worldly matters, we need not be surprised to find that it has its counterpart in spiritual matters. Patience is willing to wait, being well aware that the strong walls of prejudice which divide class and class are founded mostly upon ignorance, and with it break down. It takes time, and there. fore demands patience. Impatience would attempt to cure what is amiss by remedies which in themselves and in their consequences are worse than the disease. Patience, on the other hand, cherishes hope, and has faith in the increasing purpose of God for good — God whose mercies fail not. Patience willing to wait is characteristic of God's providence. It was also characteristic of the life of Christ on earth. He who was content to grow in wisdom and stature was content to spend the long years of His early manhood in subjection to His earthly parents till He reached the age of thirty and the appointed time was fulfilled. But if in Christ's life is seen patience thus willing to wait, in the record of His ministry and passion we see that very quality of patience which we speak of, namely, patience, willing to endure, working out for our sakes the perfection of human nature. And as a Teacher, what trials must His soul have felt — that soul full of knowledge and wisdom, yet only able to impart but little, and that little veiled in parable, to hearts not receptive and ears dull of hearing! How trying to the patience to find Himself misunderstood and the gospel lesson forgotten even by those nearest to Him and most ready to learn! And then again, all the feeling of indignation aroused by the wilful malignity of the "Scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites," insinuating, traducing, and finally conspiring to kill; and all this endured with patience. These are the facts which in the life and death of Christ tell us of His patience, willing to wait and willing to endure.

(E. Warre, D. D.)

This endurance, which the writer seems to consider the finally desirable thing, may have two meanings: it may signify the being able to bear whatever is laid on us by our Lord, and which we call patience, or it may signify permanence of character. The latter seems the fixed meaning. Before the blast the dead leaves are driven, or the waves on the surface of the ocean are tossed, but the tree has endurance and remains; the ocean has endurance and remains. It is this permanence of character which is desirable above all things. The earlier trials are the first weight imposed upon character. They tend to give compactness. There is a line of density below which no substance can be pressed. Every additional pound of weight causes that which is Dressed to approach that compactness which no additional burden can increase. This completed compactness the writer calls the "perfect work" of endurance. The sooner a man reaches this effect of trouble, the sooner is he at the point where no trouble can ever work him any harm. He is "perfect and entire."

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

The three characteristics of the man of God form a climax: ye are to be spiritually perfect, having all your graces and virtues in their entirety, and in no one thing are ye to be deficient; the ideal statue is not to present to the view one grace in abundant development, and another of stinted proportions, symmetry not deformity is the model, each part is well balanced with the rest, and all in graceful harmony with the whole; the law of physical is also the law of moral beauty. As the temptations spoken of are various, of divers sorts and kinds, assaulting and testing the various constituents of the whole character, the effect of a successful endurance of them severally would be the perfection of each and all of the members of the inner man, the completion of the godly character, the production of a man after God's own heart.

(F. T. Bassett, M. A.)

I. THE CASE SUPPOSED. "If any of you lack wisdom." Although the case, is stated hypothetically, it contains an exact description of the real situation of every human being.

1. There are those who are familiar with the history of nations, who can speak many languages, who can expatiate on the sublimest sciences, who can philosophise on the causes of natural appearances and on the principles of the human mind, who are versed in almost every department of human knowledge; and yet are strangers to those simple truths, an acquaintance with which is necessary to their final happiness. Hear how expresses himself when addressing God, in reference to his applauded acquisitions, but real blindness in early life. "I was fond of learning, not indeed the first rudiments, but such as classical masters teach." But "I attended to the wanderings of AEneas, while I forgot my own. Of what use was it to deplore the self-murdering Dido, while yet I could bear unmoved the death of my own soul, alienated from Thee during the course of these pursuits — from Thee, my God, my life? I loved Thee not, and (such the spirit of the world) I was applauded with, 'Well done,' on all sides. Alas! the torrent of human custom! who shall resist thee? How long will it be ere thou be dried up? "Let it not be supposed that this is to undervalue a learned education. Augustine had no such intention, as is clear from what he subjoins, "That literature which they wished me to acquire, with whatever intention, was yet capable of being applied to a good use. O my King, and my God, may whatever useful thing I acquired serve Thee. Still, O Lord, in my youth I have much to praise Thee for. Many, many were Thy gifts; the sin was mine that I sought pleasure, truth and happiness, not in Thee, but in the creature." But let us not overlook the far greater number who can make no pretension to a learned education, and yet fancy they have no lack of wisdom.

2. There are your men of prudence, who escape the difficulties which perplex others, and whose well-laid schemes for worldly prosperity succeed to their most sanguine expectation. Every such person is commonly reckoned wise; but surely his wisdom, if thus limited, will not stand the test.

3. There are, again, in every class of society, men of ability, good sense and natural shrewdness, who are often in danger of forgetting the necessity of a higher species of wisdom. Nay, who at all acquainted with the scriptural view of human nature, does not perceive that fallen as we are, darkened as is our reason, and corrupted as are our affections, mere natural ability, if left to its own unrestrained influence, will certainly lead men astray from the path of truth?

4. Again, there are your minute reasoners, who either profess themselves to be already wise, or, if they allow their ignorance, expect light only from their own minds: these form another class who with many pass for wise men, but who are altogether destitute of the wisdom of salvation. Far be it from our intention to express any disrespect for the right use of reason; we speak of those who expect more from it than it can give. Pride is one very general cause of the rejection of salvation. This works in a variety of ways; but the two most striking are the pride of self-righteousness, and the pride of intellect. Alas! for those, who, thus walking in the light of their own fire, and compassing themselves about with sparks of their own kindling, carefully shut out the beams of the Sun of Righteousness! All these descriptions of persons, then, lack wisdom; but they are not all sensible of it. A great point is gained when men are brought to a knowledge of their own blindness, for those who know this are already in part taught of God.

5. But, are those who truly know, love, and serve the Lord, to be exempted from the list of those who lack wisdom? The more enlightened any man is, the more humble he invariably becomes. We are all included, then, in this description, either as being entirely destitute of any true wisdom, or as having still much to learn.

II. THE DIRECTION GIVEN, "Let him ask of God." Man's natural ignorance of all true religion being ascertained, the inquiry suggests itself, To whom shall he apply for instruction? Have there been no uncommonly able and enlightened men whose discoveries suffice to lead to safety and true goodness? In vain has it ever been to apply to philosophers, or to the priests of heathen temples. They did not so much as know the true God; how then could they lead others to His knowledge? "The world by wisdom knew not God." As to any way of restoration to the Divine favour, they were totally in the dark. As to any change of heart, they knew not their need of it. And would there be more success in applying to sceptical writers of modern date? Not the least. Whom can the sick cure? whom can the blind direct? Hither, then, let all of us who regard wisdom betake ourselves. Shall we wait till Socrates know something, or Anaxagoras find out light in darkness, or Democritus draw up truth from the bottom of his well? Lo! a voice from heaven teaching the truth, and showing us a light brighter than the very sun. Why are we so unjust to ourselves as to hesitate to adopt this wisdom? — a wisdom which learned men have wasted their lives in seeking, but never could discover. If we lack wisdom, we must apply to God Himself; how then are we to know that His will is? He speaks to us in His Word. Yet this is not to be understood as if the mere perusal of Scripture would of itself bring to true practical wisdom, or even necessarily lead to the formation of correct theoretical opinions. Human teaching and the reading of the Scriptures in a spirit of self-dependence, may lead to orthodox notions; but they may lead far astray from them. Divine teaching is the only certain way of leading even to a correct line of thinking. This revelation is not a miraculous discovery of new truths, for in that sense they are all already revealed in Scripture; but it is the enabling of humbled persons to understand, to believe, to love, to obey, and to take a personal and lively interest in these truths. It is a work on the mind itself. "The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; they are foolishness unto him, neither can he know them because they are spiritually discerned." If, then, we allow the necessity of this teaching, we ought next to inquire how it is to be obtained. To this inquiry the answer is direct — "Ask of God." Prayer is the grand means of attaining this wisdom.

1. Comply with this direction in order to obtain just views of doctrine.

2. This suggests the use of this method to ascertain your religious state. You are enjoined to examine yourselves. But your hearts are deceitful. Ask, then, of God that He would be pleased to guide you to the right conclusion.

3. Ask wisdom of God to know and to avoid whatever is wrong.

4. Attend to this direction, too, that you may be led to the practical knowledge of positive duties.

5. In a state of uncertainty, as to the steps you should take in the important pursuits and changes of life, implore providential direction. "I will instruct thee." saith the Lord, "and teach thee in the way that thou shouldest go; I will guide thee with Mine eye."

6. If blessed with prosperity and affluence, you have the utmost need to pray that you may not forget God, but may attain wisdom to render your salvation certain, which would otherwise be impossible.

7. If pressed with severe afflictions, it is only when they are accompanied with Divine teaching, that you can so bear and so improve them as to reap any benefit from them. Nay, the direction itself cannot be properly complied with, unless we obtain, in the very attempt, wisdom to comply with it; for we cannot pray aright of ourselves. Let us, therefore, say with the disciples, "Lord, teach us to pray."

III. The encouraging PROMISE held forth to every one who will comply with the direction, God "giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him." God is here represented as "the hearer of prayer"; yet with a particular reference to His answering of prayers for saving wisdom. In short, there is an express promise that whoever applies to God in cases of doctrine, or duty, shall be guided aright. But some will be disposed to say, "Is not this to set aside common sense and rational argument, and to open up the floodgates of fanaticism? or, if it must be so, how can these things be? Tell us precisely in what way this overruling influence is exerted." This promise disclaims all regard to extraordinary voices, visions, impressions, and, in short, everything apart from the written Word. It calls on men to be found in the use of the ordinary means, and, sensible of their own liability to error, to implore that God would guide them. Now, how God's directing the mind should be considered as impossible, or involving any. absurdity, we are at a loss to conceive. We pretend not, indeed, to explain the precise manner of His operations; nay, we readily confess our inability to do so; but we ask whether this difficulty be not common to almost every inquiry of a similar nature. It meets, with equal force, all who allow a Providence, but who are obliged to confess that they cannot unravel its mysteries. What more irrational than to exclude the eternal Spirit Himself from all access to those spirits which owe their very being to His will?

1. That God has made this promise, should of itself convince us of its certainty; yet, perhaps, the best illustration of it which can be given is to show its fulfilment in fact. And here it may be remarked, that many of the most celebrated characters in Scripture have left evidence of its being fulfilled in their cases. "O God, Thou hast taught me from my youth." "I have not departed from Thy judgments, for Thou hast taught me" (Psalm 71:17; Psalm 119:102). A most striking instance is furnished in the history of Solomon (1 Kings 3.). When the Apostle Peter uttered the believing declaration, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God," our Lord answered and said unto him, "Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona, for flesh and blood hath not revealed is unto thee, but My Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 16:17). "Ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know all things" (1 John 2:20). Nor has this teaching, in so far as it relates to a personal apprehension of Divine truth, been confined to the ages of inspiration.

2. Another proof of the fulfilment of this promise is exhibited in the uniformity of sentiment, of practice, and of heart, among truly humble, praying persons of every name. It is evident that those scholars who follow any one master who understands the science he professes to teach, will resemble each other in their ideas of that science, But, let it be observed, that we do not say that this promise extends to those who continue merely nominal Christians; nor ought any one to expect that it will be fulfilled in those who neglect the distinctly marked and the absolutely necessary prerequisites. It requires humility, a disposition of implicit submission to the dictates of Scripture, and dependence on Divine instruction. I have said there is a remarkable harmony of views among truly humble, praying persons. Do not oppose to this the differences of various denominations. As in the scholars of the same master we expect only a general agreement, and not a complete identity of sentiment; as in the children of the same family we expect to see only a general likeness, and not an absolute sameness of features; so is is among the disciples of the Lord Jesus — among the children of God. But there are some peculiarities of expression in this promise well deserving of attention, as directly calculated to remove every sentiment which would discourage you from applying to God. One may be ready to say, "It is true that the Lord thus instructs those who serve and honour Him; but it would be vain presumption, in so unworthy and sinful a creature as I am, to make application." In reply to this, none are excluded but those who think themselves too wise to need His aid; but you are sensible of your need, therefore you are by no means excluded, for God "giveth to all men" — or all who ask. A second may be ready to say, "Were there only a few things in which I needed guidance, I could expect to be heard; but I am so very ignorant, there are so many questions which I need to ask, that I fear God would be offended with my importunity." Hear, however, the encouraging declaration: God giveth "liberally." All His communications are on a scale of liberality worthy of Himself, David testified that the Lord had "dealt bountifully" with his soul. And, finally, there are some who, if they do not speak out their minds, yet feel in this way; conscious of their ignorance, they are kept back from availing themselves of instruction by a fear that, in the very application, their ignorance will be detected, and that they themselves will be exposed to ridicule and contempt. There may be reason to apprehend such treatment from some of their fellow-creatures; but there is no reason to fear such treatment from their heavenly Teacher, for God "up-braideth not."To sum up the whole in a few practical exhortations.

1. See that you all use the external means of acquiring saving wisdom. It is a general rule that blessings are promised only when you are in the way of corresponding exertions. Let, then, the Word of God be your daily study. Attend on the preaching of the Gospel, because it is enjoined, and because experience proves it to be one great means of enlightening the mind.

2. Let me expostulate with you who have not followed the direction in the text. It is to be feared there are some of you who have never been brought to humble dependence on Divine teaching, but are under the lamentable deception of trust in your own minds.

3. Improve whatever light you already possess. But, more particularly, this subject speaks in encouraging language to those pious persons who are not possessed of human learning. Look up, then, thou taught of God, to Him who guides thee, lift up thy voice aloud and stag. The range of thy idea is limited, extending, perhaps, but a short way beyond the spot which gave thee birth; but, in much human wisdom there is often much sorrow; while the light that shall bless thee in heavenly mansions, already irradiates thy humble dwelling. Nor would it be the part of gratitude, or of benevolence, to keep all this precious wisdom to yourselves. Endeavour to diffuse it in your more immediate circle, on every side. And, to say no more, sensible of your remaining ignorance, continue in the same humble supplication for farther teaching, and abide all your lifetime in the school of Christ; so shall you, undoubtedly, obtain a clearer light — a light which will cheer you in the darkest night of sorrow, and turn even the shadow of death into the morning.

(J. Foote, M. A.)

I. WHO IS TO ASK? "If any of you lack ' — evidently the lacking man. A man who is full does not feel the need of asking: he has no necessity for seeking. Now, we know as a matter of fact and of experience, that as long as we are living an even, prosperous life, even though we may be Christians, there is great danger lest we should fancy that we lack not. There is great danger lest we should be satisfied with our faith, with our Christian standing, with our conduct in the world, and with our general deportment. "Thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing." But presently trial comes, and we know that trial very soon searches us out, and makes us feel that there is that in our faith which is lacking, that in our love which is lacking, that in our obedience which is lacking, that in our separation from the world which is lacking, that in many parts and phases of our Christian character and conduct, which comes far short of that to which it ought to have attained.

II. FOR WHAT? "If any of you lack" — now what are we to ask for? The case supposed is that of a Christian under trial. You will observe that the apostle does not direct us to pray for deliverance from the trial; he does not direct us to ask that the trial may be removed — this is a very common prayer; but it is rarely a wise or a safe prayer; and it is not often a successful prayer. St. Paul, when the thorn in the flesh was sent to him, sought the Lord thrice, that it might be taken from him; but it was not taken from him; his prayer was not answered as he had offered it. Neither, you will see, does the apostle direct us to pray for patience, for a stronger faith, for an entire submission; all that is most important. But what we want when the trial comes is, first and foremost, Divine wisdom, that we may be able first rightly to understand the true meaning of God in the discipline that we may be able to see what His purpose is in thus dealing with us. Then, having that wisdom, we shall receive the trial submissively and with resignation. I believe that one of the causes why men murmur so much against God's discipline is because they do not understand it. And thus we shall use it rightly; we shall make use of it for our sanctification, and the perfecting of the work of God in the soul.

III. OF WHOM IS this wisdom to be sought? Obviously of God; and very emphatically is the giving character of God brought out in this verse, "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask" — literally it is," of the giving God"; "of the giver God, who giveth to all men." Our Lord has taught us that it is "more blessed to give than to receive," and it is one of the attributes of the Divine character that He delights in giving — He is God, the Giver. But the Christian under trial, feeling the impenitence and the hardness of his own heart, feeling how he has rebelled against God, feeling how little he deserves any blessing from God, may ask, "Is this for me? Have I any right to look for it?" Observe how large are the terms of the promise — "that giveth to all men" — there is no exception there. God gives, and He gives "simply." There is no complexity in His giving. When man gives, he gives from a variety of motives, and he very often makes the person who receives feel that he is receiving a favour, and to receive that which is given to him with very unpleasant feelings; but there is nothing of this kind in God's gifts. When He gives, He gives simply; as the word is further explained in what follows, "And upbraideth not." There are things for which God does upbraid us. He rebukes us for our sins and our shortcomings, that we do not come and ask simply, as He is willing to give simply; but God never upbraids us for asking for wisdom; He never finds fault with us for seeking this great blessing and gift at His hands.

IV. THE MANNER HOW are we to ask? The apostle does not say, "Let him ask with humility" — that is implied, I think. Every man who really feels his need will come to God in a humble spirit. Neither does he say, "Let him ask with reverence"; that, I think, is implied. Every man who feels his need and lifts up his thoughts to the great God must come before Him with more or less of reverence and abasement of self. That which is placed before us as the essential qualification of the prayer which is to receive air answer, is simply this," Let him ask in faith," with a full and certain persuasion that God can and that God will answer such petition. And it is this spirit of doubting which is condemned by the apostle, as that which absolutely disqualifies the person who prays for the reception of the promised grace. There are, I think, three reasons which are adduced in the verses which follow.

1. In the first place, the doubting man offers no firm heart, and no firm mind, for the reception of the Divine gift, and, therefore, God cannot deposit that gift, so to speak, upon that heart and mind. "He that wavereth, he that doubteth, is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed."

2. But secondly, the doubting man dishonours God. If God makes a distinct promise, God declares that if we come before Him and ask for the fulfilment of that promise, He will grant it, and we come before Him doubting whether He wilt fulfil the promise and carry out His Word or not, do we not dis-honour Him?

3. But then there is another and a third reason given, namely, that the doubting man is unable to retain and to profit by the gift even if it were granted. "A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways." We know that double-mindedness is of the very essence of weakness.

(E. Bayley, B.D.)

1. This wisdom may be said to consist in a knowledge of the truth of religion, at least of the principal and common proofs of it.

2. It consists in a knowledge of the things which a Christian ought to believe and to do.

3. And because to know our duty avails nothing, unless we practise it, religious wisdom consists in a lively sense of the possibility, reasonableness, obligation, and advantage of performing what God requires, which will excite us to persevere in the observation of it.

I. To WANT WISDOM, if we consider the words by themselves, MAY MEAN, EITHER TO HAVE NONE AT ALL, OR NOT TO HAVE A SUFFICIENT MEASURE OF IT. And here, if we consider the many frailties and defects which stick close to the best of men, and the violent assaults of some temptations, and the great faults into which the most religious have sometimes fallen, we may reasonably conclude that few, if any Christians, during this their state of probation, are so accomplished in this true wisdom as to need no further improvement.

II. If any of you lack wisdom, LET HIM ASK OF GOD. This must have seemed strange advice to those who ascribed too much to their own reason and relied too much on their own understanding. Men are often slow to give, and glad of any plausible excuse for witholding their hand: they often accompany their acts of kindness, when they condescend to per. form them, with reluctance, haughtiness, and insolence, and upbraid at the same time that they relieve; they set too high a value upon the good offices which they have done: they expect most unreasonable submissions and compliances; and upon any failure this way, they make loud complaints of the ingratitude of the obliged person: they often bestow their favours, not according to the wants or to the deserts of those whom they assist, but either with a view to some return, or as mere unthinking capricious fancy directs. They will give to those who humour and flatter them, to the bold and importunate, against their inclination, purely to purchase repose, and with slights and forbidding coldness they will receive the person who hath everything that ought to recommend him to their esteem. A state of dependence upon God is liable to none of these inconveniences. If we lay open our wants to men, perhaps they will not believe us, or will charge them to our own fault; but the things of which we stand in need are known to God before we ask Him. Such encouragement we have to ask wisdom of God. One condition indeed there is, from which we cannot be excused, and that is a belief that we shall obtain our requests. Let him ask of God, and it shall be given him; but let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. It ought to be observed that, in the gospel, a firm persuasion of God's good will towards us is perpetually represented as absolutely necessary to make us capable of obtaining any favours from Him. In the case of miracles, faith, that is a belief that the miracle should be performed, was often required both of the person who wrought the miracle, and of the person on whom it was wrought. When any came to our Saviour to be cured by Him, and declared their belief of His power, He always healed them, and usually added these words, "As thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee"; "Thy faith hath made thee whole"; "According to your faith be it unto you"; "Thy faith hath saved thee." In prayer, also, the same condition is required, and without it we must not expect to obtain our petitions. Upon which it is natural to make these two inquiries: Why doth God so strictly require this faith? and, Why is it so acceptable to Him, that He rewards it with conferring upon us all that we ask?

1. God requires of us a belief that we shall obtain our petitions, because He hath given us abundant reason to believe it.

2. Another reason why God demands such faith is, because upon a belief of His paternal care and kindness all religion is founded.The other question is, Why is this faith so acceptable to God that He rewards it with granting our petitions? If it be asked, Why so? the answer is, because it produceth many good moral effects; because it is the greatest honour which we can pay to God; and because it is one of the best proofs of a well-disposed mind.

1. A firm faith in God is the guardian of all other virtues, and suffers us not to be seduced by worldly hopes, or deterred by worldly fears from the performance of our duty; and as it is stronger or weaker, such will be its influence on our practice.

2. We cannot honour any man more than by placing an entire confidence in him.

3. A steady faith is also a victory over many doubts which the world and the flesh usually raise in vicious minds.

(J. Jortin, . D. D.)

I. THE WANT SUPPOSED. Wisdom is far more than knowledge or understanding. We may have vast stores of information, we may even have high powers of mind, and after all be little if any better than the merest simpletons. It is a peculiar combination of the intellectual and the moral. It dictates the choice of worthy ends, and the employment of the most suitable means for the accomplishment of these ends. As a gracious thing, a spiritual gift, it is an enlarged acquaintance with the Divine revelations and dispensations, an insight into the meaning of the Word and the plan of Providence, especially as they bear on character and conduct, with a state of feeling and a course of action in harmony with their teaching. It consists in seeing what is the mind of God, what He would have us believe and do, and in yielding ourselves up to His will as thus ascertained, in the face of all opposition from without and from within, in defiance alike of frowns and flatteries fitted to turn us aside. He says here, "If any of you lack wisdom." The present exhortation is closely connected with what precedes, and is to be viewed accordingly. Believers are to count it all joy when they fall into divers temptations; but how is that possible? Under these trials they are to let patience have its perfect work; they are to endure without fretting or fainting, without grasping at questionable expedients or premature deliverances, seeking through all and above all the attainment of a spiritual maturity, a Christian completeness, in which nothing shall be wanting. We can well imagine them saying, "Who is sufficient for these things?" How are we to pierce the darkness of the Divine dispensations and get at the meaning of His dealings? How can we thread our way through the perplexities of these manifold temptations? Wisdom, what wisdom, is needed for every part of it — for the regulation alike of our views, feelings, words, and actions in seasons of trial! "Well," says the apostle, "if any of you realise this in your own cases, if you are sensible of your want of wisdom, if you feel unable to cope with these divers temptations, to solve such problems, escape from such snares, then here is the remedy — go and have your lack supplied, go and be Divinely fitted for the fiery ordeal."

II. THE REMEDY PRESCRIBED.

1. It is asking of God (ver. 5). It is not let him study, let him speculate, let him search human systems, let him ransack the recesses of his own being, let him cultivate and strain his intellectual powers to the utmost. It is thus men left to themselves have engaged in the pursuit of wisdom. Far simpler and more effective is the Scriptural method — "Let him ask"; that is all, only ask. But of whom? Is it of philosophers and sages so called, of the Aristotles and Platos of antiquity, or of their applauded successors in modern times, whether home or foreign? No; however wonderful the attainments of some of these have been — and we are far from depreciating them in their own place — they cannot bestow this gift, for they have not had it in any high and holy sense themselves. Is it of priests and prophets, of those holding sacred offices and possessing special spiritual speculations? No; they cannot effectually impart it, however much of it they may have received and manifested in their teaching. It is "of God" — the omniscient, all-wise, "only wise God." He has it as one of His infinite perfections; it is an essential attribute of His nature. He can communicate it to creatures truly, efficaciously, savingly, by His inspired Word and His Holy Spirit; and He is not less willing than able to do it, as His promises testify and His dealings demonstrate. "God that giveth." It is literally "the giving God" — that God of whom this is characteristic, to whom giving specially, distinctively belongs. He is infinitely full, all-sufficient of and for Himself. He neither needs nor can receive anything, properly speaking. With Him there is only imparting, constant, unwearied communicating; and where there is a rendering back to Him, it can only be of what He has previously bestowed, both as regards the disposition and the offering. He "giveth to all men." The term "men" is supplied by the translators. The statement, wide as it is in this form, admits of extension. His goodness reaches far beyond human beings (Psalm 145:15, 16). But while we are not the only, we are the chief objects of His care and recipients of His bounty. How manifold the blessings which are showered down on men of every country, condition, and character — men without any distinction or exception whatever! But while thus true in the largest, most absolute sense of the expression, still we are most probably to regard the statement as limited to genuine suppliants, the giving in question being conditioned by the asking. His ear and hand are open to all who come in the manner here set forth. His grace is dispensed without partiality or distinction. He listens not merely to favoured classes or particular individuals, but to as many as call on His name in spirit and in truth. The one requisite is asking. Where there is that, the giving is never wanting. No real seeker is sent empty away. And now mark His mode or style of giving. He does it "liberally"; more literally and exactly, He does it "simply." God confers blessing really and purely, without stint and without condition. There is nothing partial or hesitating about it, as there often is when performed by men. Theirs is generally a mixed and modified giving, a giving and a withholding — the one with the hand, the other with the heart — a giving and a taking; that is, doing it from a regard to certain returns to be made, certain benefits to be received in consequence — a giving accompanied by terms that detract from the graciousness of the act and impose no light burden on those who accept the favour. God does it not thus; no, it is a free, single, simple thing in His case: it is giving, and that without mixture, that entire and alone — giving from the pure native love of giving. He says, "Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it." Nor does He confine Himself to what is asked. Often He far exceeds His people s requests (1 Kings 3:11-18). And upbraideth not. He indulges in no reproaches. He connects His bestowal of gifts with no recriminations. He might point to the past, and ask, "How much have I given you already, and what use have you made of these My former favours?" or, keeping to the present, He might say, "Think of your weakness and unworthiness — how unfit you are to appear before Me, how ill-prepared to receive any such blessing"; or, directing the view forward, He might chill our hearts and shut our mouths by declaring, "I know the miserable improvement you are sure to make of whatever I bestow — how you will break all these promises, falsify all these professions." He does indeed seem at times thus to chide suppliants, as witness our Lord's language to and His treatment of the Syro-Phoenician woman; but He does it only to stir up desire, try faith, and prepare the soul for appreciating more highly and receiving more gratefully what for the moment He appears to withhold. He does it to furnish new arguments, which the heaven-taught petitioner takes up and urges with irresistible effect. The apostle adds, "And it shall be given him." There is here no peradventure, no mere chance or probability of success. There is absolute certainty. Many dig for treasure, and never find it; but in this field there is no possibility of failure. James may have had before his mind, when thus writing, that most precious passage (Matthew 7:7-11). What encouragement is there here for those who lack wisdom, or indeed any blessing, to have recourse to this quarter for the needed supply I

2. It is asking in faith. Not only go to the right quarter, but also go in the right manner. Faith is absolutely essential in all our religious exercises (Hebrews 11:6). It is specially insisted on as requisite to the success of our approaches to the mercy-seat (Matthew 21:22; James 5:15). We must draw near, confiding in the ability and willingness of God to grant our requests, resting in the truth of His Word, the certainty of His promises, and pleading for all through the infinite merits of the adorable Redeemer, having respect to His finished work, and it alone, as the ground of our acceptance and our expectations. "Nothing wavering." We are to ask without doubting, fluctuating, vacillating — not carried hither and thither by conflicting influences. It refers first and chiefly to prayer. It is not to be irregular, inconstant, fitful — urgent to-day, formal, perhaps neglected altogether, to-morrow, it is not to be for this and the other thing by turns — now for one blessing, then for a different, as if we knew not what we lacked or desired, as if neither our wants nor wishes had any fixed, definite character, had any real and deep hold of our spirits. Above all, we are not to oscillate, like a pendulum, between faith and unbelief, distrust and confidence, at one time pleading with boldness, filling our mouths with arguments, bringing forth our strong reasons, and anon, it may be, saying or thinking there is no use of asking; we are too unworthy to be heard — we have been, and still will be sent empty away. "For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed." What more unstable, restless, changeable! Such a wave is now carried toward the shore, then hurled back from it; now it mounts to heaven, then it goes down into the depths. It is in ceaseless motion, and yet, with all its rising and falling, there is in reality no progress. So it is with many persons. Borne along by strong feelings at certain seasons, you would think them decidedly, even ardently, religious. But while their emotions have been deeply stirred, their principles have not been thoroughly changed. The world retains its old hold of their hearts, and soon you may find them as eagerly devoted to its interests and as entirely conformed to its ways as those who made little or no profession. Believers have their fluctuations also. They have many ups and downs in their condition and their experience. Often are they in the midst of tumult; and the confusion around may be little in comparison with the confusion within. But still faith is the ruling, predominant power in them; it guides them through these tempestuous tossings, and under its influence the storm is changed into a calm. Having told us what wavering is like, the apostle now explains and enforces the warning against it by declaring that it must be fatal to success in prayer — "For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord" (ver. 7). In point of fact he does receive from Him many a thing. He is constantly cared for and supported by that Lord whom he distrusts, He is fed, clothed, protected, blessed with countless temporal and not less with high spiritual privileges. But he need expect nothing in answer to prayer, as the fruit of his asking. He has no good reason to look for the least portion or any kind of favour by coming to the footstool of mercy. Why? His wavering hinders God from giving. Such a suppliant dishonours, insults God to His face, by doubting the truth of His Word, by treating Him as unworthy of confidence, by not drawing near in the way He has prescribed as that in which alone access can be had and benefits obtained. It unfits us for receiving, as well as hinders the Lord from giving. What use could we make of the blessing sought if it were granted? The unsteady hand cannot hold the full cup, but spills its contents. Those who have no stability, no fixed principles and plans, are little the better for anything they obtain. We often see this in temporal matters. Some persons are so changeable, irresolute, unreliable, that any help you give them is of little service. It is practically very much the same whether they have or want, for whatever they may get soon disappears. This feature of the ease is brought out strongly in what is added — "A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways" (ver. 8); or, continuing the account of the waverer who is to receive nothing, James says of him, "He is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways." Double-minded — that is, he has a divided spirit; he is drawn in two opposite directions — now heavenward, then earthward; now he goes forward, then backward; now to the one side, then to the other. It is not only in prayer that his divided mind appears; that is but a manifestation of what comes out in every department of his conduct. It is only an index of his character generally. He is unsteady, uncertain, not to be depended on in his whole course of action. He wants the resolute will, the fixed purpose; he wants strength of mind and deep religious principle.

1. Let us realise our need of wisdom. Without it we will not discern the hand or the purpose of God in our divers temptations. Without it we will not see either the source of support under them or the door of deliverance from them. Without it we will flee to false refuges, and perhaps adopt means of cure worse a great deal than the disease itself. And we need it not only for the bearing and improvement of trial, but for the whole of our Christian work and warfare. We require the wisdom of the serpent amidst the snares and perils by which at every step we are surrounded. Not restrained and regulated by it, zeal often defeats its own ends, and injures the cause which it seeks to advance.

2. Let us see how this and every want is to be supplied. We must go out of ourselves, and rise far above all creatures. We must repair to the only good, the only wise God. Ask of Him — ask largely. We please not Him by coming with narrow and poor requests. Ask boldly. Not in a presumptuous or self-sufficient, but in a hopeful, confiding, filial manner. Be humble, but not timid; be lowly, but not fearful, desponding in spirit. Lay hold of the exceeding great and precious promises which are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus.

(John Adam.)

This verse has a special reference to persons in trouble. Much tempted and severely tried saints are frequently at their wits' end, and though they may be persuaded that in the end good will come out of their afflictions, yet for the present they may be so distracted as not to know what to do. How seasonable is this word! However, the promise is not to be limited to any one particular application, for the word, "If any of you," is so wide that whatever may be our necessity, whatever the dilemma, this text consoles us. This text might be peculiarly comforting to some of you who are working for God. You cannot work long for your heavenly Lord without perceiving that you need a greater wisdom than your own. To every honest Christian worker this text speaks with all the soft melody of an angel's whisper. Thy lips shall overflow with knowledge, and thy tongue shall drop with words of wisdom, if thou wilt but wait on God and hear Him before thou speakest to thy fellow-men. Thou shalt be made wise to win souls if thou wilt learn to sit at the Master's feet, that He may teach thee the art which He followed when on earth and follows still. But the class of persons who just now win my heart's warmest sympathies are those who are seeking the Saviour; and, as the text says, "If any of you," I thought I should be quite right in giving seekers a share of it.

I. THE GREAT LACK OF MANY SEEKERS, NAMELY, WISDOM. This lack occurs from divers reasons.

1. Sometimes it is their pride which makes them fools. Like Naaman, they would do some great thing if the prophet had bidden them, but they will not wash and be clean. If this be thy difficulty — and I believe in nine cases out of ten a proud heart is at the root of all difficulty about the sinner's coming to Christ — then go to God about it, and seek wisdom from Him. He will show you the folly of this pride of yours, and teach you that simply to trust in Jesus is at once the safest and most suitable way of salvation.

2. Many persons also are made foolish, so that they lack wisdom through their despair. Probably nothing makes a man seem so much like a maniac as the loss of hope. When the mariner feels that the vessel is sinking, that the proud waves must soon overwhelm her, then he reels to and fro, and staggers like a drunken man, because he is at his wits' end. Ah! poor heart, when thou seest the blackness of sin, I do not wonder that thou art driven to despair! You lack wisdom because you are in such a worry and turmoil. As John Bunyan used to say, you are much troubled up and down in your thoughts. I pray you, then, ask wisdom of God, and even out of the depths, if you cry unto Him, He will be pleased to instruct you and bring you out into a safe way.

3. No doubt many other persons lack wisdom because they are not instructed in gospel doctrine. The window of the understanding is blocked up with ignorance; if we could but clean away the cobwebs and filth, then might the light of the knowledge of Christ come streaming in, and they might rejoice in His salvation. Well, if you are be-mired and be-puzzled with difficult doctrine, the text comes to you and says, "If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God."

4. Ignorance also of Christian experience is another cause for the lack of wisdom. The way of life is a new road to you, poor seeking soul, and therefore you lack wisdom in it and make many mistakes about it. The text lovingly advises, "Ask of God"; "Ask of God."

5. Very likely, in addition to all this. which may well enough make you lack wisdom, there are certain singularities in the action of Providence towards you which fill you with dismay. It is not at all an uncommon thing for the Lord to add to the inward scourgings of conscience the outward lashings of affliction. These double scourgings are meant for proud, stubborn hearts, that they may be humbly brought to Jesus's feet. Then it is that eternal mercy will take advantage of your dire extremity, and your deep distress shall bring you to Christ, who never would have been brought by any other means.

6. Many lack wisdom because, in addition to all their fears and their ignorance, they are fiercely attacked by Satan. He it is who digs that Slough of Despond right in front of the wicket-gate and keeps the big dog to howl before the door so that poor trembling Mercy may go into a fainting fit and find herself too weak to knock at the door. Now, in such a plight as that, with your foolish heart, and the wicked world, and the evil one, and your sins in dreadful alliance to destroy you, what could such a poor timid one as you do if it were not for this precious word? "If any of you" — that must mean you — "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not."

II. THE PROPER PLACE OF A SEEKER'S RESORT — "Let him ask of God." Now you perceive that the man is directed at once to God without any intermediate object or ceremony or person. Above all, do not let the seeker ask of himself and follow his own imaginings and feelings. All human guides are bad, but you yourself will be your own worst guide. "Let him ask of God." When a man can honestly say, "I have bowed the knee unto the Lord God of Israel, and asked Him, for Jesus's sake, to guide me by His Spirit, and then I turned to the Book of God, asking God to be my guide into the book," I cannot believe but what such a man will soon obtain saving wisdom.

III. THE RIGHT MODE IN WHICH TO GO TO GOD.

1. The text says, "Let him ask," which is a method implying that ignorance is confessed. No man will ask wisdom till he knows that he is ignorant. Make a full confession, and this shall be a good beginning for prayer.

2. Asking has also in it the fact that God is believed in. We cannot ask of a person of whose existence we have any doubt, and we will not ask of a person of whose hearing us we have serious suspicions.

3. There is in this method of approaching God by asking also a clear sight that salvation is by grace. It does not say, "Let him buy of God, let him demand of God, let him earn from God." Oh, no! — "let him ask of God." It is the beggar's word.

4. Observe here what an acknowledgment of dependence there is. The man sees that he cannot find wisdom anywhere else, but that it must come from God. He turns his eye to the only fountain, and leaves the broken cisterns.

IV. The text has in it ABUNDANT ENCOURAGEMENT for such a seeker. There are four encouragements here.

1. "Let him ask of God, who giveth to all men." What a wide statement — who "giveth to all men"! I will take it in its broadest extent. In natural things God does give to all men life, health, food, raiment. Now, if God hath gifts for all men, how much more will He have gifts for that man who earnestly turns his tearful eye to heaven and cries, "My Father, give me wisdom, that I may be reconciled to Thee through the death of Thy Son"! Why, the grass, as Herbert says, never asked for the dew, and yet every blade has its own drop; and shall you daily cry for the dew of grace and there be no drop of Heaven's grace for you? Impossible. Fancy your own child saying, "My father, my father, I want to be obedient, I want to be holy"; and suppose that you have power to make your child so, could you find it in your heart to refuse? No; it would be a greater joy to you to give than it could be to the child to accept. But it has been said the text ought not to be understood in that broad sense. I conceive that there is implied the limitation that God giveth to all who seek. There are some men who live and die without the liberal favours of grace, because they wickedly refuse them; but He gives to all true seekers liberally.

2. The next comfort is, He gives to all men liberally. God does not give as we do, a mere trifle to the beggar, but He bestows His wealth by handfuls.

3. It is added as a third comfort, "and upbraideth not." That is a sweet word.

4. Then comes the last encouragement: "It shall be given him." Looking through my text, I asked the question, "Is that last sentence wanted?" "Let him ask of God, which giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not." Now, if the Lord gives to all men, He will certainly give to the seeker. Is that last promise wanted? And I came to this conclusion, that it would not have been there if it was not required. There are some sinners who cannot be contented to draw obvious inferences; they must have it in black and white. Such is the fearfulness of their nature, they must have the promise in so many express words. Here they have it — "it shall be given him." But to whom shall it be given? "If any of you lack wisdom." "Well," says one, "I am quite out of all catalogues; I am one by myself." Well, but you are surely contained in this "any of you." "Ah!" says one, "but I have a private fault, a sin, an offence which I would not dare to mention, which I believe has damned me for ever." Yet the text says, "If any of you." "Let him ask of God, and it shall be given him." "But," says one, "suppose my sins should prove to be too great!" I cannot, will not, suppose anything which can come in conflict with the positive Word of God.

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

1. What this wisdom is. It is the doctrine of the Cross here specified, namely, to endure patiently whatsoever God layeth upon us, and to know that God in singular love correcteth all those with the rod of affliction whom He purposeth to make heirs of His eternal glory. This to know is wisdom far greater than the wisdom of men. This wisdom standeth in two things —(1) In knowledge, that we wisely understand the causes for which we are thus afflicted of God as that partly for the punishment of our sins, partly for the more manifestation and plain trial of our faith, partly for the advancement of God's greater glory, that thereby in the deliverance of men from their calamities He might be more glorified; finally, that hereby we being touched might repent, lest we perish with the world. Hereof to have true understanding is a great point of wisdom.(2) As the wisdom how to bear the cross consisteth in knowledge of the ends wherefore it is inflicted, so also it consisteth in an inward feeling and judgment when in our hearts and consciences we have sense of the comfort of the Spirit which in afflictions of this life supporteth us and with assured hope of safe deliverance in due season under-proppeth us.

2. This wisdom is not a quality in nature, but a grace and an excellent girt of God; therefore of Him only is this wisdom to be sought, which the apostle to intimate willeth that if any man lack this wisdom he should ask it of God. To bear the cross patiently, to know the use of afflictions truly, to feel the comfort of the Spirit inwardly — this is wisdom not of man, but of God, not of ourselves, but from His heavenly goodness, from whom all wisdom floweth as from a fountain.

3. Patiently to bear the cross, wisely and well to behave ourselves in our afflictions, being a gift from God, what hope have we to obtain it by asking of Him? Three ways are we here to conceive hope of obtaining this wisdom from God.(1) From the promise we have from God that He will hear when we call, open when we knock, give when we ask it of Him. Almighty God assureth us of this hope by His prophet, by whom He willeth us in the days of tribulation to call upon Him, with promise that He will hear us. In fine, He protesteth that He is more ready to hear us than we to call upon Him, and more willing to supply our need than we desirous to ask it at His hands.(2) As from the promise that is made us that we shall obtain, so from the liberality of God we must conceive hope of obtaining the thing we pray for. God giveth to every man liberally. Shall He not give us wisdom who is liberal to all men? Shall we distrust His goodness who is rich to all that call upon Him? Shall we suspect His bountifulness which poureth out plentifully His blessings upon all flesh?(3) We have hope to obtain this wisdom at the hands of God from the goodness of His nature. He giveth His gifts liberally to all men, and He upbraideth none, neither casteth any man in the teeth either with His benefits so plentifully poured upon us or with our beggarliness and miserable want whereunto we are subject; therefore is there great hope of obtaining the wisdom we pray for.

4. But how shall we ask this wisdom? How shall we pray for the gift of patience that we may obtain it? Ask it in faith, and waver not! Faith in all the prayers of God's saints is necessary, neither is there anything which more hindereth the grants of God towards man than when they doubt or waver in their prayers, distrusting either the power of God, as not able, or His goodness, as not willing to hear us in the days of our necessities, which distrustfulness is no small evil in the sight of God; neither is it a light matter to doubt of obtaining that thou desirest, whereby thy double heart and wavering mind is descried. Who in asking pretendest hope, in wavering distrustest either the power or promptness or readiness of God to give thee the desire of thy heart and to doubt either of His power or promptness and readiness of mind is great impiety, disloyalty, and ungodliness.

(R. Turnbull.)

1. All men are concluded under an estate of lacking. Dependence begetteth observance. If we were not forced to hang upon Heaven, and live upon the continued supplies of God, we would not care for Him.

2. Want and indigence put us upon prayer, and our addresses to Heaven begin at the sense of our own needs.

3. There is need of great wisdom for the right managing of afflictions.(1) To discern of God's end in it, to pick out the language and meaning of the dispensation (Micah 6:9). Our spirits are most satisfied when we discern God's aim in everything.(2) To know the nature of the affliction, whether it be to fan or to destroy; how it is intended for our good; and what uses and benefits we may make of it (Psalm 94:12). The rod is a blessing when instruction goeth along with it.(3) To find out your own duty; to know the things of obedience in the day of them (Luke 19:41). There are seasonable duties which become every providence; it is wisdom to find them out — to know what to do in every circumstance.(4) To moderate the violences of our own passions. He that liveth by sense, will, and passion is not wise. Skill is required of us to apply apt counsels and comforts, that our hearts may be above the misery that our flesh is under. The Lord "giveth counsel in the reins," and that calmeth the heart. Well, then —(a) Get wisdom if you would get patience. Men of understanding have the greatest command of their affections.(b) To confute the world's censure; they count patience simplicity and meekness under injuries to be but blockishness and folly. No; it is a calmness of mind upon holy and wise grounds; but it is no new thing with the world to call good evil and to baptize graces with a name of their own fancying. As the astronomers call the glorious stars bulls, snakes, dragons, &c., so they miscall the most shining and glorious graces. Zeal is fury; strictness, nicety; and patience, folly! And yet James saith, "If any lack wisdom" — meaning patience.(c) Would ye be accounted wise? Show it by the patience and calmness of your spirits. We naturally desire to be thought sinful rather than weak. "Are we blind also?" (John 9:40).

4. In all our wants we must immediately repair to God.

5. More particularly observe, wisdom must be sought of God. He is wise, the fountain of wisdom, an unexhausted fountain. His stock is not spent by misgiving (Job 32:8). Men have the faculty, but God gives the light, as the dial is capable of showing the time of day when the sun shines on it.

6. God will have everything fetched out by prayer (Ezekiel 36:37). Prayer coming between our desires and the bounty of God is a means to beget a due respect between Him and us; every audience increaseth love, thanks, and trust (Psalm 116:1, 2). We usually wear with thanks what we win by prayer; and those comforts are best improved which we receive upon our knees.

7. Asking yieldeth a remedy for the greatest wants. Men sit down groaning under their discouragements because they do not look further than themselves. Oh! you do not know how you may speed in asking. God humbleth us with much weakness that He may put us upon prayer. That is easy to the Spirit which is hard to nature.

8. God's dispensations to the creatures are carried in the way of a gift. Usually God bestoweth most upon those who, in the eye of the world, are of least desert and least able to requite Him. Both not He invite the worst freely? (Isaiah 55:1).

9. "To all men." The proposals of God's grace are very general and universal. It is a great encouragement that in the offer none are excluded. Why should we, then, exclude ourselves? (Matthew 11:28).

10. God's gifts are free and liberal. Many times He giveth more than we ask, and our prayers come far short of what grace doth for us.(1) Do not straiten God in your thoughts (Psalm 81:10). When God's bounty is not only ever-flowing, but overflowing, we should make our thoughts and hopes as large and comprehensive as possibly they can be.(2) Let us imitate our heavenly Father, and give liberally — with a free and a native bounty; give simply, not with a double mind.

11. Men are apt to upbraid, but not God.(1) God gives quite in another manner than man doth. It is our fault to measure infiniteness by our last, and to muse of God according as we use ourselves. Let us learn not to do so. Whatever God doth He will do as a God, above the measure of the creatures, something befitting the infiniteness and eternity of His own essence.(2) God does not reproach His people with the frequency of their addresses to Him for mercy, and is never weary doing them good.

13. One asking will prevail with God.

(T. Manton.)

I. FOR WHAT THE WISDOM IS NEEDED. TO achieve Christian perfection. Materials for building a house are nothing without the requisite constructive ability. Recollect what abundant material the willing-hearted people brought for the making of the tabernacle; they had even to be stayed at last; but all the willing-heartedness would have done nothing without Bezaleel and Aholiab to make use of the materials.

II. THE WISDOM TO BE SOUGHT OF GOD. Thus there is relief from all need to attempt definitions of wisdom. The Father of Jesus knows what is needed toward perfection.

III. We are helped in asking by recollecting THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN GOD AND MEN IN RESPECT OF GIVING.

1. God is the giving God. That can be set forth as an element in His character. He is not part of the energy of life, which has to receive before it can give.

2. He is the God giving liberally. His giving is pure giving, giving for the need, giving uncomplicated by considerations of whether it will pay to give.

3. The God giving without reproach. God's giving is ever gladsome giving. The more we ask for, of the right sort, the more He has to give and the better He is pleased.

(D. Young, B. A.)

In one of Cicero's moral books, in speaking of the things which we could properly ask of the gods, he enumerates such things as wealth, honour, and health of body, but he adds, it would be absurd to ask wisdom of any god, for it would be totally out of his power to give such a thing to his worshippers; whereas we Christians, and even the sincere and faithful Jews in the old times, believed that it was the first thing we have to ask of the true God. Of course we may not ask it under the name of wisdom, but it is the same practically if we ask for repentance, or for faith, or for obedience; for all these are a part of true wisdom, which may be described as the godly, the spiritual, the Christian mind.

(M. F. Sadler, M. A.)

It is evident that if the chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy Him for ever, then wisdom in the highest sense is simply another name for religion; and indeed that, looking at the matter from the point of view which an immortal creature ought to take, there is no real wisdom at all where religion is wanting. Suppose the owner of a factory for the making of some delicate and expensive fabric were to bestow great attention on certain departments of the manufacture, and exhibit much ingenuity in devising improvements on the machinery and processes connected with these departments, but neglected other branches, and, above all, gave little heed to the grand purpose of the whole, so that he produced unsatisfactory and unsaleable material, none of us would say that this was a wise man of business. An actual case of the kind is not very common, for the interests of this world keep men from such outrageous folly; but, alas! it is by no means rare to see a man of much worldly sagacity, heedless of the great ends of his being — diligent in the twisting of a certain thread, or the preparation of a certain dye, for the web of life, whilst yet the web itself, looked at in the light of the Lord, is worthless. True wisdom lies in the subjection of all our capacities and energies and affections to the control of high moral principles, and the consequent faithful application of them all to noble moral uses; and the fear of God is the beginning — the foundation — of this wisdom.

(R. Johnstone, LL. B.)

This heaven-sent wisdom, discretion, right judgment, is that of which the Psalmist speaks (Psalm 32:9; Psalm 48:13). This is a part of the endowment of Pentecost. This is that gift of right estimate and practical wisdom which we need so much, and seek so little; and for the want of which all our lives through we make most lamentable and hurtful mistakes. Surely it was not Joshua only who erred when he made peace with the Gibeonites without seeking counsel from God. It was not David only who erred, when following his own opinion against the remonstrances of such a man as Joab, he numbered the people; but Christians who have received the Spirit, and who may always have larger and larger gifts of wisdom only for the asking; and amongst those foolish Christians, ourselves also, are continually falling into grievous errors for want of a right judgment. How happy would that country be, how peaceful and prosperous, if the citizens used a right judgment in all things. Far more would this possession be to them than rich mines, or fertile fields — a much greater endowment. Would parents indulge their children, to those children's future misery, if they exercised a sound judgment? Now, they spoil their children, and too late use that most sad lament, "The more abundantly I love you, the less I am loved." Would parents place their children in places of temptation, in which, whilst their bodies perhaps grow, their souls shrink up and die, if by an exercise of right judgment they perceived that this world is not their children's best prospect, nay, that it is their worst, if by misuse it mars the everlasting future? How about the parents' own souls? Would it be possible for Christians with any real judgment, any show of wisdom and understanding, to value things temporal more than the unseen and the eternal? Knowing what they do of the value of education, of practising the powers of the mind and the body, could they dream that their present scanty devotions, stinted worship in the sanctuary, communions, if any, rare and ill-prepared for; few and hurried readings of Scripture, could they dream, I say, that their souls can thus be prepared for the presence of God? There is such a thing as a natural judgment, part of that endowment of reason which remains to us after the Fall, although often clouded and overpowered by passions. And even this we are often not at the trouble to use. We speak upon impulse, and act upon impulse; speak unadvisedly with our lips, and act hastily and unwisely. How few go to God, and ask for His guidance in their difficulties, and in every perplexing turn of their lives! How few pray earnestly for "right judgment in all things." Few, few indeed. Oh what a privilege it is, what a happiness, to be able to commit our way to the Lord! What a comfort to be able to repair to Him and lay our burden down at His feet! When we cannot decide for ourselves, and when we cannot trust any man to decide for us, we can resort to the Ear which is ever open to our cry, the Eye ever watchful to guide us. And observe that the answer to our prayers is not simply good advice, or good influence. It is nothing less than the gift of the Holy Sprat Himself, which God bestows upon those that ask Him; nothing less than God the Holy Ghost, the Third Person in the ever-blessed Trinity, living wisdom, light, truth, holiness; disposing as well as directing, enabling as well as suggesting.

(W. E. Heygate M. A.)

The wisdom we are to seek may be that wisdom which will enable us to turn every trouble to a good account. He is a great merchant who can make a great commercial disaster the foundation of a fortune. He is a great general who can wrench victory from defeat. He is a wise man who grows stronger in the midst of troubles which break weaker men. Or it may be that exalted nobility of spirit which James describes (James 3:17) as produced by the wisdom which cometh down from above. Or it may be that same religiousness which is named in Scripture as "the fear of the Lord," which fear the Psalmist (Psalm 111:10) calls "the beginning of wisdom," and (Psalm 112:1) describes as great delight in the commandments of the Lord (see also Job 18:28).

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

If you honestly crave wisdom to make His will your will, to aim at that maturity and perfection of character which He knows to be your supreme good, He will as surely give you that wisdom as the sweet, pure, sun-warmed air will flow into your room when you throw open your window to the day.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

Before he went into the school-life each day, Dr. Arnold prayed for himself this prayer, "O Lord, I have a busy world around me. Eye, and ear, and thought will be needed for the work to-day done amidst that busy world. Now I enter upon it, I would commit eye, ear, thought, and wish to Thee. Do Thou bless them, and keep their work Thine, that, as through Thy natural law my heart beats, and my blood flows, without any thought of mine for them, so my spiritual life may hold on its course at those times when my mind cannot consciously turn from my absorbing work to Thee. I commit each particular thought to Thy service. Hear my prayer, for my dear Redeemer's sake."

On assuming the governorship of the Soudan, a province half as large again as France, desolated by the slave-traders, whom it was to be his work to put down, Gordon wrote, "No man ever had a harder task than I, unaided, have before me, but it sits as a feather on me. As Solomon asked, I ask wisdom to govern this great people; and not only will He give it, but all else besides."

(J. F. B. Tinling, B. A.)

wanders in search of the highest wisdom, the knowledge of God." He tries a Stoic, who tells him his Search is in vain. He turns to a second philosopher, whose mercenary tone quenches any hope of assistance from him. He appeals to a third, who requires the preliminary knowledge of music, astronomy, and geometry. Just think of a soul thirsting after God and pardon and peace being told, You cannot enter the palace and have access to the fountain until you have mastered music, astronomy, and geometry. What a weary climb for most I what a sheer inaccessible precipice for many of us! In his helplessness he applies to a follower of Plato, under whose guidance he does begin to cherish some hope that the road leading to the desired summit may some day be struck. But in a memorable hour, when earnestly groping after the path, he is met by a nameless old man, who discourses to him about Jesus the Christ. Without any more ado, he is at the end of his quest. "Straightway," says Justin, "a flame was kindled in my soul," and if not in the actual words, yet in spirit he sang —

"Thou, O Christ, art all I want,

More than all in Thee I find."

Bengel having observed, respecting the ways of Providence, how much often depends upon a single minute circumstance; look, for instance, he said, "how frequently all the events relating to a young clergyman's marriage and future condition in life, and perhaps the destinies of many hundreds of souls, may be traced up to the apparent accident of a vacancy in some pastoral charge." Here a friend replied, "This is what renders it so serious a matter to decide for one's self; that one is perplexed to know whether one ought to proceed according to one's best judgment immediately, or take more time to wait." "This," said Bengel, "is the very thing which makes it so desirable to pray without ceasing."

(Bengel's Life.)

It belongs to true wisdom to meditate, hit upon, and mind whatever is to the purpose at the right time.

(Bengel's Life.)

I have heard of a young man who went to college; and, when he had been there one year, his parent said to him, "What do you know? Do you know more than when you went?" "Oh, yes!" said he; "I do." Then he went the second year, and was asked the same question. "Do you know more than when you went?" "Oh, no!" said he; "I know a great deal less." "Well," said the father, "you are getting on." Then he went the third year, and was asked the same question, "What do you know now?" "Oh!" said he, "I don't think I know anything." "That is right," said the father; "you have now learned to profit, since you say you know nothing." He who is convinced that he knows nothing of himself, as he ought to know, gives up steering his ship, and lets God put His hand on the rudder. He lays aside his own wisdom, and cries, "O God! my little wisdom is cast at Thy feet: my little judgment is given to Thee."

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

I. IN HIS BESTOWMENT OF THE HIGHEST SPIRITUAL GIFT. "Wisdom "consists in choosing those ends which are Worthy of our nature, which are the highest within the reach of our faculties, and in the employment of the best means in the best way for the attainment of those ends. It stands, in one word, for moral excellence or religion — the chief good.

II. In His bestowment of the highest spiritual gift ON THE SIMPLEST CONDITION. "Let him ask." This means soul-asking, an earnest, importunate, persistent yearning.

1. The man who does not intensely desire this "wisdom," or religion, will never have it.

2. The man who does intensely desire it is sure to have it.

III. In His bestowment of the highest spiritual gift, on the simplest condition, IN A SPIRIT OF SUBLIME GENEROSITY. He gives in a spirit of —

1. Impartiality;

2. Genuine liberality;

3. Unreproaching affection.

(Homilist.)

The writer seems to hear some of his readers say, "But it requires much wisdom to live thus in the midst of trials." Very true I But the supply is at hand, "Ask of God." "If any of you come short of wisdom, let him ask of the giving God." What an encouraging epithet, "the giving God" — the God who is accustomed to give, who is known amongst men and ages as "The Giver"! And that there may be the utmost encouragement, James gives three characteristics of His giving: It is universal, abundant, unselfish. One may say, "I am so insignificant"; another, "I am so sinful"; another, "I have so little faith"; another, "I am so hard." But you are a human being, and He gives to all. "But I am so fearfully lacking, my need of wisdom is so great. If I had any sense whatever, I might apply to Him." But He "giveth liberally." He longs to have great things asked of Him. Go to little men for little things. It is as easy for a great man to do a great thing, as for a small man to do a small thing. God, the Father, King of the world, may be asked for the largest gifts, since no giving can possibly render Him poorer. A humane monarch once said, "The greatest advantage of being a king is, that the king has the power to make so many happy." The advantage which God has over all His children — even earthly monarchs — is that He has more power to make mere people happy. The unselfishness of the Divine Giver is seen in that He never "upbraids." Human givers are so interested in their part of any giving transaction that a much-solicited person is apt to do or say something which shall remind the receiver of his obligation, and to make former gifts a reason for withholding that which is now sought; and, more especially, if good use has not been made of former benefactions, to upbraid the ungrateful or thriftless receivers. Even human parents sometimes do this. It requires the greatest nobility to rise above such inclinations. Our Father never upbraids. He never prints to the misuse we have made of any former gifts. He never tires of giving. He is so delighted to have us ask, that He Would have us more ashamed of not coming to Him for needed wisdom than for any other fault or sin.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

To all sincere petitioners He "giveth liberally" — with unstinted hand, with glorious munificence. Jacob asked for "bread to eat and raiment to put on," and God makes him "two bands." Solomon prayed for an "understanding heart," and God said (1 Kings 3:11-14). The prodigal thinks of the position of "an hired servant," and his father says (Luke 15:22-24). Sweet and beautiful, however, as this word "liberally" is, the apostle's own word is something even more comprehensive and encouraging. It is the adverbial form of the term employed in Romans 12:8, and Ephesians 6:5. The exact meaning here is, that God gives "with simplicity," "with singleness of spirit": He does not as men often do, give and yet in effect not give; He does not give, and yet by an unkind manner, or by subsequent ungenerous exactions, neutralise the benefit of His giving; His kindness in giving does not, as so often with men, fold in upon another motive of a selfish nature; His giving is without any duplicity, with singleness of aim to bless the recipient, to reveal the love of His own nature for the happiness of His creatures. "And upbraideth not" is pretty nearly an expansion, in a negative form, for the sake of clearness and emphasis, of the thought already giver in "liberally," "with simplicity." We may easily weary human benefactors. Those who have often shown no kindness are apt to feel continuing it a burden; and even if they do continue it, there is much chance of our hearing painful references to the frequency and largeness of our applications. Under these circumstances a suppliant may well enter the house even of one whom he has good cause to acknowledge as friend with hesitation and fear. But God, in His giving, "upbraideth not." He makes no mention of our past folly and abuse of His kindness. He always employs His past kindness as an argument to induce us, through trust in His love, to ask for more and greater blessings (Psalm 81:10).

(R. Johnstone, LL. B.)

How positive is the assurance of an answer to this prayer for wisdom! You may pray for a change of circumstances, for more land or money, or for success in some undertaking, or for deliverance from some trouble; and the Father may see that it is better to leave you just as you are, and answer your prayer in some other way. In some way for good every true prayer is answer, d. There could not possibly be an unanswered prayer without something greater than a miracle — without a revolution of the whole system of the universe. Until attraction repels, and heat makes cool, and effects produce their own causes, there cannot be an unanswered prayer, because God has ordained the connection between the real prayer, intellectually meant and heartily felt prayer, with the production of some spiritual good. The law of gravity is not more sure in its existence, or more unerring in its action, than the law of spiritual prayer. But, as in physical, so in spiritual operations, the result does not always come in the anticipated mode; but it comes somehow. The law of equivalents is unfailing. But there is one prayer which we know the Father will answer. There is no "perchance" here. There are no conditions in asking God for wisdom. He that seeks it shall find. The petitioner may present his prayer as a claim, and demand the answer of this special prayer as the fulfilment of God's special promise. All the more may he do so, because this wisdom is something no man can have by inheritance, and no man can acquire by any study under the best teachers and amidst the best circumstances, and no man can impart to his fellowman. For this wisdom we must "ask of God."

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

What abundant testimony we have to the liberality of God! The very winds proclaim it, as they sweep with tumultuous haste from shore to, shore all round the world. The sunshine utters it, as in silent majesty it ascends the heavens, and fills immensity with its glorious presence. The dew whispers it, as it steals softly down, until not a blade, or leaf, or flower but glitters with its vivifying beauty. The stars announce it, as they, the unnumbered host of God, come forth to shine in the inmeasurable depths of heaven. This is the testimony that He" giveth to all men liberally." And yet there is testimony yet more conclusive still, although it would be strange to meet such signs of liberality even to lavishness here, and to meet with parsimony in a realm which encircles a life more precious and more permanent. The winds may cease, the sun may be obscured, the stars may fall, and the earth with all its works may be burnt up, but His Word shall not fail, and this His assurance and appeal — "He that spared not," &c.

(T. Stephenson.)

Alexander the Great said to one overwhelmed with his generosity, "I give as a king." Jehovah gives as the Infinite God.

A pasha once made one of his councillors open his mouth, and he filled it with diamonds and jewels. We may be sure he opened his mouth as wide as he could. So let us "open our mouths wide that they may be filled."

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

His giving is not the cover of any unavowed purposes; it conceals no secret policy; it is frank, open, genuine. He gives for the sake of giving, and because He delights in it.

(R. W. Dale, LL. D.)

When poor men make requests to us, we usually answer them as the echo does the voice: the answer cuts off half the petition. We shall seldom find among men Jael's courtesy, giving milk to those that ask water, except it be as this was, an entangling benefit, the better to introduce a mischief. There are not many Naamans among us, that, when you beg of them one talent, will force you to take two; but God's answer to our prayers is like a multiplying glass, which renders the request much greater in the answer than it was in the prayer.

(Bp. Reynolds.)

This is a very interesting feature in the character of the Divine Being as a Giver. Not a little of the value of a gift — I mean, of course, not the intrinsic value, but the pleasure imparted by the reception of it — arises from the manner of its bestowal. We feel this, in receiving from a fellow creature. Even a poor man, of any sensibility, would many a time rather be without the alms he seeks, than have it with the ill-natured or the contemptuous scowl with which it is given — thrown to him, it may be, to send him about his business and get rid of his troublesome importunity. How wide the difference of his emotions, when the same or even a less a his is bestowed with open-handed cheerfulness, or the tear of tender pity! Even in higher cases than that of the mere beggar, a gift is often bestowed with what we calf a bad grace; with a manifest grudge; with some reflection against the petitioner for his folly, or for the trouble he causes. This is not God's way. He "upbraideth not." In the first place, He upbraids not the petitioner who comes to Him for wisdom, with his want of it — with his stupidity and folly. On the contrary, He is pleased with that sense of deficiency — that humble consciousness of proneness to err which brings the suppliant to His footstool. In the second place, He does not "upbraid" the petitioner for his importunity; for it is by making importunity necessary that He tries faith — tests its reality and its strength. He is never wearied with the frequency, or displeased with the pressing earnestness of the petitions presented. He receives all graciously. He rejects none. When they embrace His very feet in the earnestness of desire, He spurns them not from Him. Nor does He "send them away empty."

(R. Wardlaw, D. D.)

What is it to ask in faith? To this some things are requisite as necessary conditions, though more remotely; some things as essential ingredients.

I. THE NECESSARY CONDITIONS RESPECTING THE PETITIONER, ASKER, THE THING ASKED, THE MANNER OF ASKING.

1. The asker must be in the faith, or rather faith in him; the petitioner must be a believer. How can he ask in faith who has no faith? (John 16:23.) How can he ask in Christ's name who believes not in it? There is no answer for him that is not a believer, "God heareth not sinners" (John 9:31). A fervent prayer for a thing unlawful is a crying sin.

2. The thing asked for must be an object of faith; such things as you may upon good grounds believe that God will grant (1 John 5:14).

3. The manner of asking must be faithful.(1) With fervency. He does not ask in faith that asks not fervently (chap. James 5:16). If we pray as if we prayed not, God will hear as though He heard not, take little notice except to correct. Strong cries only pierce heaven; such were Christ's.(2) With submission.(3) With right intentions. We must pray to glorify God, make us serviceable to Him, capable of communion with Him.

II. THE ESSENTIAL INGREDIENTS OF THIS DUTY ARE THE ACTINGS OF FAITH IN PRAYER, which are one or other of these four. He whose faith puts forth any one of these acts prays in faith.

1. Particular application. Believing the promises whereby God has engaged Himself to give what he asks; so to ask in faith is to pray with confidence the Lord will grant the petition, because He has promised.

2. Fiducial recumbence. Faith can read an answer of prayer in the name of God, and stay itself there, when a promise appears not, or, through faith's weakness, cannot support it (Isaiah 50:10, 11).

3. A general persuasion that the prayer shall be heard. The prayer may be heard, though the thing desired be not presently bestowed, or not bestowed at all. And so a man may pray in faith, though he be not confident that what he prays for shall be given him, much more that it shall not be presently given.

4. A special confidence that the very same thing which is asked shall be given. Use: Take notice of the misery of unbelievers. They that cannot pray in faith must not expect to have their prayers heard. Of all duties and privileges, none more advantageous and comfortable than prayer; but it is faithful prayer: for without faith there is neither advantage by it, nor comfort in it. To pray, and not in faith, is to profane the ordinance. Pray as much, as often as you will, if not in faith, you lose your labour. The apostle is peremptory, "Let not that man think he shall receive anything of the Lord" (ver. 7).Now to prevent this wavering, this doubting, so dishonourable and offensive to God; so prejudicial, dangerous, uncomfortable to you: let me prescribe some directions, the observance of which will establish the heart, and encourage faith, in your approaches to God.

1. Get assurance of your interest in the covenant; that Christ has loved you, and washed you from your sins in His blood; that He has given you His Spirit; that you are reconciled and in favour. If you be sure you are His favourites, you may be sure to have His ear.

2. Consider, the Lord is engaged to hear prayer. Faith may conclude He will hear, for He will not, He cannot, be false to His engagement; but He is engaged strongly, by His titles, attributes, dec. When you pray consider He is able to hear and give what you ask. It is gross atheism to doubt of this, to question omnipotency. Consider He can do abundantly (Ephesians 3:20). He can do more than we ask. Easily. He can do the greatest thing you ask more easily than you can do the least thing you think. Safely. Without any loss or damage to Himself, without any diminution of that infinite store that is in Himself. He is willing. Faith seldom questions God's power; that which hinders its actings is doubts whether He is willing. But there is more reason to question this, for He is as willing as He is able.

3. Consider the nature and dignity of prayer, which affords divers arguments to confirm faith.(1) It is God's ordinance, instituted and enjoined for this end.(2) He in Scripture adorns it with, and ascribes to it, many transcendent privileges, such as, considered, may fortify the most languishing faith. There is a strength in prayer which has power with God (Hosea 12:3, 4).(3) Prayer is the Lord's delight, the most pleasing service we can ordinarily tender; therefore He does not only most frequently command it, but importunately sue for it. Let me hear thy voice, says Christ to His spouse (Song of Solomon 2:14), for thy voice is sweet. It is sweet as incense (Psalm 141:2; Proverbs 15:8).

4. Consider the promises. The Lord has promised He will hear. If ye doubt He will hear, ye doubt He is faithful. Consider how many, how universal, how engaging.

5. Consider your relation to God. He is your Father; Christ teaches us to begin with this.

6. He gets glory by hearing prayer.

7. Consider the success of others, how effectual the prayers of God's ancient people have been; this affords great encouragement.

8. Consider your own experiences, how many times God has answered your prayers formerly; that will be a great encouragement to trust Him for time to come. Those that have tried God are inexcusable if they will not trust Him.

9. Labour to remove those discouragements which hinder the exercise of faith in prayer, or weaken it in its actings. Try whether we pray in faith.

(1)Backwardness to pray is a sign that you pray not in faith.

(2)Carelessness in praying.

(3)Perplexity and solicitousness after prayer.This was a sign Hannah prayed in faith (1 Samuel 1.). (a) How can they believe their prayers will be accepted who see no ground to believe that their persons are accepted? There is a confidence to be found in unregenerate men in their addresses to God. The confidence of faith in prayer differs from this presumptuous confidence.(1) In its rise. The carnal man arrives at this confidence he knows not how. He attained it with ease, it cost him nothing; it sprang up in him as a mushroom, on a sudden, without his care or industry. Whereas the confidence of faith is not in an ordinary way so soon, nor so easily, nor so insensibly attained.(2) In the grounds. Presumption has either no ground at all, or else it is raised upon nothing but the sand; in some it springs from their natural temper. But now the confidence of faith is to be found in those who are most modest as to their natural constitutions, when once they are renewed and fortified by the power of grace. Christ and the promise is the ground of this confidence.(3) In the attendants. Confidence of faith is accompanied with —

(a)Reverence; a filial and a holy fear of God.

(b)Resignation of his will and wisdom to the will and wisdom of God.(4) In the effects.

(D. Clarkson, B. D.)

1. The apostle condemneth it, first, from a comparison or similitude, wherein the doubtful person in prayer is compared to a wave of the sea. For as a wave or surge of the sea swelleth by the rising of the wind, and by the strength thereof is carried hither and thither, and never remaineth steady, but always is troubled, so is a wavering minded man; for his manifold imaginations, his sundry cogitations, his divers thoughts of heart, so toss him and carry him up and down, that his mind can never rest, but is always vexed and never surely fixed upon any one thing; for now he thinketh God will hear him, and by and by he mis-doubteth; now he persuadeth himself God can give him his heart's desire, and forthwith he mistrusteth; now he conceiveth hope, and immediately he fainteth; now he saith with himself, I will make sure to God; but straightway he feareth. Thus is he tossed and troubled by his own cogitations, and carried away with the wind of his own vanity, and never resteth: wherefore he is well compared to a wave, of the wind and moved air tossed and tumbled.

2. As by this plain similitude, de this doubtfulness and inconstancy is condemned, so in like manner, and secondly, by a reason from discommodity and disadvantage, which followeth this wavering, the reason is this: that which bringeth no good unto men, but procureth hurt rather, ought not to be used among the saints of God. If a man should come to his neighbour and say, "Sir, I have a suit unto you, but I doubt I shall not obtain it, for I fear either you cannot, or at least you will not, perform my desire," doth he not stay the hand of the giver — doth he not make himself unworthy to receive anything that is so doubtful? Shall it not be replied, "Shall I do for him that hath me in suspicion that I will not help him, and doubteth of my good nature and frank heart towards him?"

3. The third and last way whereby he condemneth this is from a sentence generally received of all men, which he protested, as it were, proverbially. A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways, therefore wavering in prayer is condemned. Unstable, which is derived from the commonwealth, which, having laws and orders whereby it may be governed, and they carefully observed. The commonwealth thereby hath her quietness and stability, whatsoever hindereth the prosperous quietness of the commonwealth, whatsoever is against good laws and orders, as sedition, tumults, uproars, tyrannical empire and bearing rule, and the like is called unstable, so in like manner in the mind of man, whilst reason ruleth and executeth her office, the affections of man continue in their place, and man's mind resteth in her quiet constitution; but if the affections break the bonds which reason prefixeth, there ariseth disorderedness and instability. He therefore which, doubting and wavering, prayeth, hath a disturbed and disordered mind, and hath in himself an uproar and tumult of affections which follow another thing than faith prescribeth, therefore is said to be unstable in all his ways. The double and wavering minded man is like an old and tottering wall, which daily shaketh and is always in danger of falling; yea, like the foolish man's building in the gospel, whose foundation being but on the sand, at the rain falling, at the floods rising, at the wind blowing, and the tempest raging, is in daily danger of ruin. The inconstant and wavering minded man, like the weathercock, is always turning, never long staying. Sometimes the wind of vainglorious ambition carrieth him with mainsail to pride; sometimes the blast of filthy pleasure thrusteth him headlong to unclean conversation; sometimes the swelling waves and mighty surges of prosperous condition enforceth him to vain confidence; sometimes the woful state of adversity casteth him violently into utter desperation; sometimes by desire of gain he is carried into covetousness; sometimes as careless of his estate he lavisheth out at large, and spendeth his goods by prodigality; sometimes he is allured with fleshly pleasures, sometimes he is cast down with fear, sometimes he is carried away with contempt and arrogancy of his spirit; now his mind is set upon this thing, now upon another, that he may rightly say with St. James, that he is unstable in all his ways. The wavering minded man, subject to all affections that are evil, and to all dangerous alterations, may therefore be compared to the unstable reed, which boweth and turneth at every wind; his unstayedness and instability carrieth the wavering minded man now into this danger, now into that, and so is always near unto perdition.

(R. Turnbull.)

I. WHAT IS MEANT HERE BY "ASKING IN FAITH."

1. TO "ask in faith" may be here spoken in reference to the person that prays; namely, he that prays must be in the faith, a faithful or righteous person (Psalm 66:18). "The prayer of a righteous man availeth much" (James 5:16).

2. To "ask in faith" is to believe that all we say in prayer is true. When we confess ourselves to be grievous sinners, we are to think ourselves to be as great sinners as we say we are; when we call God Almighty "our Father," we are to believe Him to be so.

3. We are to believe that whatsoever we ask of God in prayer is according to His will.

II. As concerning the matter of our prayers we are to believe as hath been said, so AS TO GOD WE ARE TO BELIEVE SEVERAL THINGS. Indeed, scarce any of His attributes but some way or other we are to act our faith upon in prayer; but I shall choose some few on which the eye of faith is especially fixed in prayer.

1. The first is God's omniscience; for else we shall be at a great loss. If we believe not this, how can we be assured that God hears our prayers?

2. We are to believe God's providence, that He rules and orders all things. Whoso thinks that all things are ruled by second causes, by the power and policy of men, or by the stars, or chance, they will not pray at all, or go to God merely as a refuge: we shall pray to God, but trust to ourselves; or to medicines when we are sick, and to our food when we are well.

3. God's omnipotence is to be believed. Else we will stagger through unbelief.

4. We must act our faith upon His goodness and bounty. If we do not believe that the goodness of God is as much above the love of our dearest friend, as we account His wisdom and power above our friend's, we have unworthy thoughts of that attribute which God hath most abundantly manifested, and would have most glorified; and the love our friend bears us is but a drop from and of that ocean that is in God.

III. The third object of faith are THE PROMISES; and there are three kinds, some to prayer, some to the person praying. We are to act our faith upon all.

IV. The fourth and main object of faith which our faith must eye in our prayers, is CHRIST, in whom "all the promises are Yea and Amen , who hath reconciled the person and attributes of God: and concerning Christ we are to believe —

1. The great love God bears to Christ. Which is doubtless greater than to the whole creation.

2. We are to believe the fulness of Christ's satisfaction, and the greatness of the value and efficacy of the death of Christ. For if justice be not satisfied, we have no throne of grace, but a bar of justice, to come before. The blood of Christ hath a pacifying, purifying, purchasing, perfuming, reconciling, satisfying, justifying, virtue.

3. We are to believe the efficacy and infallible success of Christ's intercession. Christ doth four things as to our prayers.

(1)He indites them by His Spirit;

(2)He perfumes them by His merit; then —

(3)He presents our prayers and persons; for we have access through Him (Ephesians 3:12); and then —

(4)Superadds His own intercession, His blood crying louder than our sins, and better things than our prayers.

4. We are to believe and improve this truth; namely, that the Father exceedingly delights to Christ. And hereby God wonderfully honours Christ, by pardoning and receiving into favour such rebellious sinners as we are, for His sake, by forgiving anything for His sake.

5. We are to believe, improve, and obey Christ's commands (John 14:13, 14; John 16:23).

(1)We are to believe these things of God and Christ with an historical faith.

(2)With a faith, of recumbency. We are to rely upon the power, wisdom, and goodness of God, and upon Christ's interest in God, &c.

(3)Saints are, by way of duty, but not by way of a necessary condition of obtaining whatsoever they ask, to believe with the faith of assurance of obtaining whatsoever we pray for.

(Thos. White, LL. B.)

1. The trial of a true prayer is the faith of it.(1) An actual reliance upon the grace and merits of Jesus Christ. We cannot lift up a thought of hope and trust but by Him. We must come humbly; we are sinners: but we must come in faith also; Christ is a Saviour: it is our folly, under colour of humbling ourselves, to have low thoughts of God. If we had skill, we should see that all graces, like the stones in the building, have a marvellous symmetry and compliance one with another; and we may come humbly, yet boldly, in Christ.(2) We must put up no prayer but what we can put up in faith: prayer must be regulated by faith, and faith must not wander out of the limits of the word. If you have a promise, yon may be confident that your requests will be heard, though in God's season: you cannot put up a carnal desire in faith (1 John 5:14). All things are to be asked in faith; some things absolutely, as spiritual blessings — I mean, as considered in their essence, not degree. Degrees are arbitrary. Other things conditionally, as outward blessings. Let the prayer be according to the word, and the success will be according to the prayer.(3) The soul must actually magnify God's attributes in every prayer, and distinctly urge them against the present doubt and fear.

2. Man's nature is much given to disputes against the grace and promises of God. Carnal reason is faith's worst enemy. Then is our reason well employed, when it serves to urge conclusions of faith.

3. The less we doubt, the more we come up to the nature of true faith. Do not debate whether it be better to cast yourselves upon God's promise and disposal, or to leave yourselves to your own carnal care; that is no faith when the heart wavers between hopes and fears, help and God (Luke 12:29). Get a clear interest in Christ, and a more distinct apprehension of God's attributes. Ignorance perplexeth us, and filleth the soul with dark reasonings, but faith settleth the soul, and giveth it a greater constancy.

4. Doubts are perplexing, and torment the mind. An unbeliever is like the waves of the sea, always rolling; but a believer is like a tree, much shaken, but firm at root.

(T. Manton.)

"While the prayer of faith," said an eloquent Welsh preacher, "is sure to succeed, our prayers, alas! too often resemble the mischievous tricks of children in a town, who knock at their neighbours' houses, and then run away. We often knock at mercy's door, and then run away, instead of waiting for an entrance and an answer. Thus we act as if we were afraid of having our prayers answered"

(New Cyclopaedia of Illustrations.)

Paul describes them as being "driven about by every wind." You never know where to find them; they are scarcely ever two days alike. The chameleon is said to take its colour from its surroundings, and so would it seem do these religions changeabilities. But, after all, these are not so dangerous to other people as are those who for the most part are consistent, but who at rare intervals seem to fall into sin. A clock that ever varies is never trusted even when it is right, and therefore does but little mischief; but let the trusted time-keeper go wrong, and the whole town may be thrown into confusion. And this applies the more forcibly as our position may be more public and conspicuous. Your own watch in your pocket may be altogether wrong, and nobody may know it but yourself, but if the clock in the steeple be in error, the fact will be on every lip. What the good beacon is to the sailor, such should every Christian be amongst men. The pilot making his way towards the Thames is shaping his course by the lightship; but, alas! the lightship has broken from her moorings, and soon both the "guide" and the voyager are stranded on the Goodwins. I was sitting one day looking out on the beautiful Mediterranean as it was lashed by the gale, and I was struck by what appeared to be the hesitancy of a vessel to enter the harbour. She backed and filled and stood off and on, when, as I supposed, she might have entered forthwith. The secret, however, Soon explained itself. Amongst the breakers dashing along the shore, there was being tossed "to and fro" one of the large black buoys which had previously marked the channel entrance. During the gale it had been driven from its moorings, and from being a useful guide it had become a helpless log. Alas that any who have been guides to others should ever be found amongst the miserable breakers of sin, driven away from the moorings of Christian believing and of Christian living.

(W. H. Burton.)

Of course no blessing comes if the man doubts. God could not give in such a case, because the man could not receive. When the Father has promised His wisdom, a special spiritual gift, how can it rule me if I close all the avenues of my spirit by my unbelief? The object of the gift is to improve the relations between the Father and the child, but manifestly that cannot begin to be done if the child believes that the Father is a liar, or even if he fail to have the most perfect faith in the honour and good intentions of the Father. He must not doubt. If he is not willing to give God trust, how can he expect God to give him wisdom?

(G. F. Deems, D. D.)

Place yourselves on the seashore in a storm; you see the billows rise up in varied form and size, but not one assumes its form or height independently of the rest. As the wind blows more or less violently, as it comes from this or that quarter, as the following wave presses on with greater or less force, will be the size and duration of each one that approaches you. And thus it is with the inclinations and wishes of men; they receive their direction from without, from this or that impulse, and fluctuate hither and thither as outward obstacles vary. Their wishes and resolves are never clear and determinate; their heart is always divided; they are fickle, wavering, inconstant, in all their ways. Is this the right condition of mind for prayer? For what are we especially to pray? To-day about one thing, to-morrow about another? At the present hour are we to pray ardently for a gift, about which at the next we shall be utterly careless? or shall we be earnestly interceding for an individual, to whose welfare in a few hours we are quite indifferent? Can this be what is meant by praying in faith? No; for in such a state of perpetual variation there is no faith, no certain assurance of the object of hope, no undoubting belief of that which we do not see.

(B. Jacobi.)

James the First of England, and the Sixth of Scotland, was a waverer. He was aware of this defect, and heard of a preacher who was singularly happy in his choice of texts. James appointed him to preach before him, that he might put his abilities to the test. The preacher, with the utmost gravity, gave out his text in the following words: "James the First and Sixth [James 1:6], in the latter part of the verse, ' For he that wavereth,'" &c. "He is at me already!" said the king.

An eminent Frenchman hit off in a single phrase the characteristic quality of the inhabitants of a particular district, in which a friend of his proposed to settle and buy land. "Beware," said he, "of making a purchase there; I know the men of that department; the pupils who come to it from our veterinary school at Paris do not strike hard on the anvil; they want energy, and you will not get a satisfactory return on any capital you may invest there."

(S. Smiles.)

1. Unbelievers, though they may receive something, yet they can expect nothing from God. They are under a double misery.(1) They can lift up no thoughts of hope and comfort, for they are not under the assurance of a promise.(2) If they receive anything, they cannot leek upon it as coming by promise, or as a return of prayers.

2. Men usually deceive themselves with vain hopes and thoughts; they are out in their thinking (Matthew 3:9).

3. The cause why we receive not upon asking is not from God, but ourselves; He "giveth liberally," but we pray doubtingly. He would give, but we cannot receive. We see men are discouraged when they are distrusted, and suspicion is the ready way to make them unfaithful; and, certainly, when we distrust God, it is not reasonable we should expect aught from Him.

4. From that "anything" — neither wisdom nor anything else — that God thinketh the least mercy too good for unbelievers: He thinketh nothing too good for faith, nod anything too good for unbelief.

5. From that "from the Lord," that the fruit of our prayers is received from the hands of Christ; He is the middle person by whom God conveyeth blessings to us, and we return duty to Him.

(T. Manton.)

man: —

I. THE CHARACTER OF ONE WHO IS IRRESOLUTE AND UNFIXED IN HIS LEADING VIEWS AND DESIRES.

1. His understanding is various.

2. He acts as if he had two wills.

3. His affections are spiritual or carnal, serious or sensual, heavenly or worldly, just as the two contrary principles of flesh and spirit prevail in him, which alternately sway the mind, and of which alternate sway this variableness of temper is the certain effect.

II. THE EFFECT OF THIS UNHAPPY TEMPER.

1. The double-minded man is inconstant in his purposes and pursuits.

2. Another effect of such a divided heart is that it can seldom in good earnest fall in with the dictates of conscience in the plainest instances of duty.

3. The double-minded man is easily overcome in an hour of temptation.Lessons:

1. There is no man but what hath, and must have, some leading views in life, some grand point at which he aims, and to which he makes almost all his other views subservient.

2. Common understanding and reason will lead a man to examine what this great end is that he drives at.

3. Every man, as a reasonable creature, endowed by his Maker with reflection and understanding, should take special care that his governing aims be right.

4. Before we can know what ought to be our great and governing views, we must know what we are and what we are designed for.

5. That to serve and please and fear that great God that gave us being is our great concern, and ought at all times to be our governing view, as reasonable creatures born for immortality.

(John Mason, M. A.)

If reason be compared to the helm of a ship, the passions are the sails. It was necessary that we should be impelled to act, as well as that our actions should be duly regulated: and that is the most perfect state of human nature in which the guidance of the enlightened judgment is seconded by a steady and generous ardour. The "double-minded man" may be considered as divided in his judgment, and divided in his inclination. Divided in judgment, having thought, but thought superficially, upon the concurrent evidences of religious truth, "he is carried about with every wind of doctrine." Hence the light which guides him is not a single and steady, but a wandering and bewildering, light. Divided in inclination, not averse to receive good impressions, yet unapt to retain them. In consequence of these internal changes, the double-minded man is equally changeable in his outward conduct, "unstable in all his ways"; and as the good or evil principle prevails, he is either intent on repairing his faults and advancing towards perfection, or he becomes the slave of his sins, injurious to his fellow creatures and a rebel to his God. Such is the character of "the double-minded man" in the general view.

1. Let us examine it as it appears to others. To the eminently good he is an object of humiliating compassion; to the bad, of derision. Moreover, every change of conduct adds his own testimony to the suffrage of the world, either that his understanding is so weak as to be always wavering between truth and error; or that his resolution is so frail as to fluctuate incessantly between good and evil, clearly discerned and acknowledged by himself to be so. Like a child, playing on the brink of a precipice (overhung with fruits and flowers), now struck with the danger, now tempted by the beauty and the fragrance; trembling, yet lingering, whether he recede from or advance to his destruction; presenting an image of most pitiable imbecility. His mind is torn by struggling passions; his life, a scene of conflict, that one may compare to civil war, in which rival parties, alternately defeated and victorious, inflict and suffer reciprocal calamities; and whichsoever prevails, nothing is to be seen but the burning of towns, the laying waste of provinces, confusion and desolation on every side. Alas, when a man is conscious of breaking through the secret resolutions of his own mind, of violating injunctions to which he has been professing perpetual obedience, renewing transgressions which he has been lamenting in anguish, which will shortly make him abhor himself, which will possibly fill up the measure of his guilt and seal his doom — what a scene of internal misery to be conscious, while knowing his duty, of wanting spirit and resolution to perform it; to possess an understanding, yet violate its best dictates; to have a heart, yet transgress its purest sentiments; to hear the voice of conscience and of God recalling him from ruin, yet finding himself hurried on by the headstrong fury of his passions — what must be the feelings of this man, who has endured so lately the pangs of guilt, who has been in the very crisis of a blessed change, who had begun to taste the sweets of liberty, yet is ensnared again — what must his feelings be while renewing and perpetuating his ignominious bondage!

2. Thus unhappy is the double-minded man in his own eyes: we are now to consider him with respect to his moral worth — his character in the sight of God. It is not a wavering, divided temper and conduct which comes within the line of salvation marked out by the gospel: "If ye continue in My Word" (says Jesus Christ Himself), "then are ye My disciples indeed"; and again, "No man having put his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." As guilt is the poison of the soul, so repentance is its cure: the double-minded man betakes himself alternately to the poison and to the remedy. If such treatment would be fatal to the bodily constitution, how much more to the constitution of the mind, which, if it do not fix in virtue, must sink into the reverse, while the passions and appetites are rather inflamed than moderated by temporary and ineffectual restraints, and all those finer principles which should hold them in subjection are gradually impaired and become callous by frequent injuries — every virtuous effort grows weaker and weaker, till it yields mechanically to every impulse of desire, and the whole mind becomes at length blind to danger, deaf to counsel, and dead to the sense of goodness. In this melancholy state, what hope of moral recovery can remain? Those who have lost sight of reason in the career of passion, or who have even long slumbered in a course of stupid unthinking wickedness, may still be awakened; and strong motives, with the aid of strenuous exertion, may still open some glimmering prospect of recovery. But when reason, conscience, religion, have tried their utmost, but in vain, what more remains to be done?

(P. Houghton.)

The word signifies one that has two souls; and so it may imply —

1. A hypocrite (James 4:8). As Theophrastus saith of the partridges of Paphlagonia, that they had two hearts, so every hypocrite hath two souls. As I remember, I have read of a profane wretch that bragged he had two souls in one body, one for God and the other for anything.

2. It implieth one that is distracted and divided in his thoughts, floating between two different ways and opinions, as if he had two minds or two souls.

3. And, more expressly to the context, it may note those whose minds were tossed to and fro with various and uncertain motions; now lifted up with a billow of presumption, then cast down in a gulf of despair, being divided between hopes and fears concerning their acceptance with God.

1. That unbelieving hypocrites are men of a double mind; they want the conduct of the Spirit, and are led by their own affections, and therefore cannot be settled: fear, the love of the world, carnal hopes and interests, draw them hither and thither, for they have no certain guide and rule. This double mind in carnal men bewrayeth itself two ways — in their hopes and their opinions.(1) In their hopes they are distracted between expectation and jealousy, doubts and fears; now full of confidence in their prayers, and anon breathing forth nothing but sorrow and despair; and possibly that may be one reason why the Psalmist compareth the wicked to chaff (Psalm 1:4), because they have no firm stay and subsistence, but are driven to and fro by various and uncertain motions, leading their lives by guess, rather than any sure aim.(2) In their opinions hypocrites usually waver and hang in suspense, being distracted between conscience and carnal affections; their affections carry them to Baal, their consciences to God.

2. That doubtfulness of mind is the cause of uncertainty in our lives and conversation. Their minds are double, and therefore their ways are unstable. For our actions do oft bear the resemblance of our thoughts, and the heart not being fixed, the life is very uncertain. The note holdeth good in two cases.(1) In fixing the heart in the hopes of the gospel.(2) In fixing the heart in the doctrine of the gospel; as faith sometimes implieth the doctrine which is believed, sometimes the grace by which we do believe.A certain expectation of the hopes of the gospel produceth obedience, and a certain belief of the doctrine of the gospel produceth constancy.

1. None walk so evenly with God as they that are assured of the love of God. Faith is the mother of obedience, and sureness of trust maketh way for strictness of life.

2. None are so constant in the profession of any truth as they that are convinced and assured of the grounds of it.

(T. Manton.)

I. WE HAVE TO OBSERVE ON THE MISERABLE DISADVANTAGE, INEFFICIENCY, AND, WE MAY SAY, WORTHLESSNESS, OF SUCH A STATE OF MIND FOR ANYTHING GREAT AND GOOD. "Double-minded," "unstable in all" things. Now, connect this with the consideration of the feebleness of the human powers at the best. Let those powers be in their best order, and exerted in the most steady, constant, and consistent manner possible, and even then, how slow and toilsome is the progress to any good! The most vigorous have mourned and been mortified, to see how little they had done: the most determined servants of God have confessed that they were "unprofitable servants." Again, connect the idea of this character with that of the shortness of life; short, in the most protracted instances, shorter still, in the far greater number. And how much of this inevitably consumed in little cares and occupations, and, in many instances, in grievances, pains, and languor! A man deliberating and perplexing and confounding his designs, and life still hastening on; prosecuting a purpose a little while, and then, hesitating, stopping, life still going on! abandoning his design — life all the while passing away'. Think, again, what dishonour and ignominy it is, for a man to be thus, as it were, his own opponent and frustrator. There is enough to obstruct him, from without, were he ever so vigorously prepared for the great operations of duty. But he has within him the causes of defeat. He cannot put in order the active principles and powers within the citadel of his soul, to sally out in force against the external difficulties and opposition. He has there opinion dissenting from opinion, motive disagreeing with motive, passion conflicting with passion, purpose thwarting purpose. But to carry the view outward; this double-minded man, who has no simplicity and unity of purpose, think how unfortunate is his case, on account of the multiplicity of things there will be to distract his purposes, and frustrate his exertions. In this "double" condition of mind he is liable to be arrested by a great number of things on either side.

II. But we may previously observe that there are very many men exempt from this miserable weakness, BY BEING THE SUBJECTS OF SOMETHING STILL WORSE. There is many a sinner that betrays no double-mindedness. He is actuated wholly, steadily, constantly, by some one predominant evil. The man of all-grasping ambition, the complete sensualist, the insane lover of money. And these, in their way, are most worthy to be held up as examples to those who profess to be, or to wish to be, devoted to better things. "Look at them," we would say to the unstable, double-minded man — "look at them and be ashamed!" In representing the character of our text, in some of its most usual forms, we may note that there is perhaps some difference between a double-mindedness of variableness, fluctuation, fickleness, and that of inconsistency or self-contradiction. But we would rather direct the attention to that doable-mindedness which endeavours, in the habitual course of life, to combine irreconcilable things. And how many exemplify this in the manner in which their minds are affected between the present and the future! A predominance of regard to the great and endless future is indispensable to the happy order of the human soul. But in some minds this concern rather harasses than predominates — it cannot govern, but will not depart. And as it will not, it is attempted to be brought into some kind of compromise with the prevailing interest about the present objects. There is the warning thought, "These present objects will soon be no longer mine — I must leave them! and what will be the state of my soul elsewhere?" And there is terrible authority in this thought. It forces its demand on the conscience of such a man. There are, therefore, some serious thoughts; some employments of a religious kind; some abstinences and self-denials; some prayers, however constrained. And this miserably embitters the interest of the present and temporal objects. Still the heart cannot, cannot let these objects sink down to the subordinate rank, and admit the predominance of the grand future ones. This miserable double-mindedness distracts the tenor of a man's life. He goes on hesitating, embarrassed, impeded, and only succeeds in going wrong 1 It is much the same thing, we have said already, when we exemplify the character, denominated in the text, in the case of a man who approves some great, general, good object, but is influenced by a selfish interest against it. This private interest rises up against all his convictions and better wishes and sympathies, and determines him to oppose the thing he pronounces so good. But yet, not without a painful consciousness of inconsistency, which his utmost efforts cannot reconcile, and which gives a wavering "unstable" character to his course of proceeding. See, again, the character in the text exemplified in the case of a man harassed between the dictates of his own judgment and conscience, on the one side, and the consideration of how he will be accounted of in the world, on the other side. The attempted combination of things which cannot truly agree is exemplified in some who wish to carry an appearance and a profession of belonging to the Christians, the people of God, and at the same time are very desirous of being on the most favourable terms with worldly and irreligious society. We will only add to the description one more particular, and that of a doctrinal reference. There seems to be in some persons a "double-minded" apprehension of the meritorious cause of human salvation — a notion of some kind of distributive partition of the merit, between the sinful being himself and Jesus Christ. Now this must produce a painful perplexity and instability in a man's experience, and in his religious exercises and efforts. For it can never be adjusted, on each side, how much. If the Redeemer will not, of mere free favour, furnish all for justification, where will He stop? If I am to contribute essentially, meritoriously, myself, what will suffice? by what rule is it to be estimated? Unstable, therefore, is such a man in his feelings, in his efforts, in his prayers.

III. WHAT IS THE REMEDY FOR ALL THIS? The great thing to quell all this mischief and conflict and wretchedness is to have one grand predominant sovereign purpose of life. And what can that be but to live for God and eternity? How gloriously this would crush the hateful strife! and bring us out free, in singleness of spirit, for the enterprise of immortality! The means conducive, under the Divine influence, to the establishment of this great predominant principle and power are most plain and obvious. Let the man who feels the plague of this internal dissension, let him look most deliberately, most resolutely, and, as in the sight of God, at the motives, the objects, the interests, which divide and baffle his spirit; and solemnly decide what it is that deserves to have the ascendency. And what he is losing all the while! losing the labour of his vital powers — spending his strength for nought; losing his time, the inestimable advantages for the attainment of the final good, the present happiness he might be enjoying, the benefits of the Redeemer's work, the day of grace and salvation. By continuance, too, these worse contesting principles have habit on their side, the most infernal ally of evil principles, an angelic one of the good. And, lastly, as God is, if we may speak so, the supreme unity, simplicity, consistency, stability, in the universe, the soul must have a firm connection with Him, so as to be in a humble sense (what we should not venture to express, if His own Word had not) a "partaker of the Divine nature," by His Spirit imparted, through the medium of the Redeemer. And then these opposing evil principles and powers in the soul will shrink in the strife, will no longer prevail, though they linger to struggle, will have received the touch of death, and will perish wholly and for ever when the spirit is at last set free from mortality and this infected world.

(J. Foster.)

He is one who is inconstant; he is changeable; he hath a mind to serve God and be saved, but he hath at the same time a mind also to satisfy his lusts; he would be eternally happy in the next world, but he would not quit the sensual pleasures of this; he is godly by fits and by intervals, but he is not so uniformly, and uninterruptedly; his religion hath its flows and its ebbs, its rises and its falls; now it grows, and presently again it decays. To give us a more lively image of this instability, which is the distinguishing mark of a double-minded man, our apostle paints him out to us by a familiar but elegant comparison, "He that wavereth is like to a wave of the sea, driven by the wind and tossed." The ground of this instability is the diversity of those principles upon which he acts; his heart is not pure and free from mixture, and therefore his actions are thus repugnant. He hath a double mind, and therefore nothing that he doth can be simple and uniform. To remove this inconsistency and incongruity, which there is betwixt what he at several times doth, his heart must be purified from all secular and low aims, and entirely be fixed on the choice of one single end, and steadily apply itself to the use of such means, as all jointly conspire to the attainment of that end. When we make the glory of God and the salvation of our souls our last and chief end; when we form no other designs that come in competition with this; when all our actions are so ordered as to have a proper tendency to this end, and do all agree with each other by agreeing together in this tendency, then have we that purity of heart which our apostle here enjoins.

(Bp. Smalridge.)

Should we observe a person at the same time taking aim at two different marks placed at a considerable distance, and much more, if they were placed diametrically opposite to one another, we must be more than ordinarily serious if such a sight did not move our spleen and provoke our laughter. And yet every whit as ridiculous is that person who proposes to himself such designs as do plainly interfere with each other. For is it not the height of folly to aim at any end which we are sure never to accomplish? And must not he that pursues opposite ends necessarily fall short of one of them? For will not all those means that contribute to the gaining one, hinder the attainment of the other? If the pleasures of this world are more suited to our natures; if they are more agreeable to our rational faculties; if they are more durable; if they are more perfect whilst they last; let us pursue these steadily, without troubling ourselves for anything beyond them. Let us not rob ourselves of any of the present satisfactions of this life, in expectation of lesser joys at a greater distance. Or if the pleasures of this world, though they do not exceed, yet are truly equal to the pleasures of the next; if, having weighed them together in an even balance, we find that neither of them turns the scale; then let us live at all adventures: where there is no room for preference, let us take either side, as it happens. Let us "set our affections on things above, or on things below"; be godly or profane; sober or intemperate; righteous or unjust; merciful or uncharitable, according as we are in humour. Let us practise some duties to comply with the motions of the Spirit, and commit some sins to gratify the lusts of the flesh; and having no certain haven where we would be, let us suffer our inclinations to run afloat, and to be tossed about to any point of the compass by every blast of wind. But if neither of these be the true state of our case, as, if the Christian religion be true, we are sure neither is; if the advantages and pleasures of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed; nay, farther, if the seeking of the things of this world, either more than the glories of the next, or equally with them, will shut us out of the kingdom of God; and if on the other side, to those who "first seek the kingdom of God, and His righteousness, these things shall be added" over and above; where there is such a vast disparity in the objects, where the dispute lies between the creature and the Creator, between finite and infinite, between momentary and eternal, there to be equally poised between such unequal objects; and, in short, for the want of a uniform pursuit of the better part, to lose both parts, is such a degree of folly as in speculation we could never have believed possible, had not the practice of men showed it to be very common.

(Bp. Smalridge.)

When a mariner hath determined within himself what port to make to, and is secure that he is in the direct way which will bring him to that port, whatever ill accidents he meet with in his passage are in some measure made tolerable by the prospect he hath of arriving at the desired haven at last; but when he is tossed by contrary winds from one point to the other; when, in the words of the Psalmist, "he reels to and fro, and staggers like a drunken man, and is at his wits' end," because he knows not which way to steer his course, then must his soul needs be melted within him because of trouble. Now this is the unpleasant condition of a double-minded person: he is tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind. Sometimes the pleasures of this world appear amiable in his eyes, and he pursues them with great eagerness of soul; but these have nothing in them which will satisfy his desires; these either flying from him whilst he follows them, or vanishing away in the fruition; he hopes to find more solid contentment of mind in the practise of virtue and the duties of religion; but having not a true relish for these more refined pleasures, finding some hardships in his first entrance upon a holy life, and wanting resolution of mind to overcome them by patience, he quickly relapses into) his former wicked courses, and tries again the more beaten paths of vice; but still he is as far removed as ever he was from the attainment of true happiness, because he does not move towards it in a direct line, but, by going sometimes forwards and sometimes backwards, is at an equal distance from his journey's end, after all his wearisome travel and pains, as he was when he at first set out. The heavenly. minded person who pursues the paths of virtue with an even course finds in himself a fund of joy which is never to be exhausted, a spring of comfort and delight which never fails him (Psalm 16:5). On the other side, the carnal-minded person who is uniform and consistent with himself in a constant course of sin; who hath got the conquest over his conscience, and is deaf to its loudest cries; who, finding the fetters of religion too burdensome, hath taken care to break these bonds asunder, and to cast away these cords from him, hath his share of pleasures, which he freely enjoys, without abatement or control. The double-minded person who pretends to be sometimes spiritual, and who at other times is carnal; who shares his affections betwixt the Creator and the creature; who sometimes obeys the laws of God to comply with the dictates of his conscience, and at other times disobeys God's laws to gratify his sensual appetite, may perhaps propose to himself a double share of pleasure; and all that happiness which the spiritual and carnal person do separately divide between them, he may fondly hope to join together in one, and to enjoy at once. But whilst he aims at too much, he is in danger to lose all; whilst he claims more happiness than comes to his share, he forfeits what otherwise he might have fairly enjoyed; and, instead of uniting in one the different pleasures of a sensual and spiritual life, he will find by experience that he truly tastes neither. For the pleasures of sin are embittered by the remorses of conscience, whose checks he is not able wholly to silence; and, on the other side, that satisfaction of mind which he should reap from the consciousness of having done some things well is impaired by the sense of guilt which arises from his having done other things which he knows to be evil. There are several forbidden pleasures which a profligate, dissolute thorough-paced sinner, who hath no sense of shame, no fear of God, no strugglings of conscience to restrain him, doth without control freely indulge himself in; and these make up a great part of that happiness which he pitches upon as his portion. But the double-minded person who proposes to himself different ends, and pursues different courses, though he sometimes transgresses the lines of duty, dares not go great lengths in vice; he hath not so far got the mastery over his conscience but that there are several kinds and instances of sin at which he presently starts back and recoils; he is for keeping up an interest with two opposite parties, God and the world; and therefore is careful not to serve either, so far as to make the breach with the other utterly irreconcilable; and thus, for want of a perfect and uniform obedience, he loses those pleasures which the saints of God find in a religious life; and at the same time, for want of being thoroughly wicked, he debars himself from several sorts and degrees of pleasure which profligate sinners take very frequent and very large draughts of. And as through the restraint of conscience he dares not allow himself in several pleasures which notorious sinners liberally taste of, so in those which, through the prevalence of his lusts, he gives way to, he finds not all that relish which they do. For though he is so far wicked as not to resist a temptation when it is offered; yet he cloth not so much as the other entertain himself with the prospect of criminal pleasure before be enjoys it; his soul is not so wholly swallowed up with it whilst he enjoys it; and he doth not with so much contentment call it back and dwell upon it in his memory, and act it over again in his imagination after he has enjoyed it.

(Bp. Smalridge.)

I. IT IS CONTRARY TO THAT LOVE OF GOD WHICH THE GOSPEL EXPRESSLY REQUIRES (Matthew 22:35). Now, if the steadiness of our obedience depends upon the sincerity of our love of God; if nothing can seduce them from their duty, whose hearts are truly possessed with an ardent love of God; then will it follow, on the other side, that those whose obedience is partial and interrupted, who advance some steps in the paths of virtue, and after that depart back into sinful courses, are destitute of that superlative love of God which is the very basis of all religion, and the first and chief condition of our eternal salvation.

II. IT IS INCONSISTENT WITH THAT PERFECTION WHICH IS ANOTHER CONDITION OF THE GOSPEL COVENANT. Absolute perfection is not to be attained, and therefore repentance comes in to supply the want of it; but a sincere endeavour after perfection is possible; and he who sins with a resolution to repent is not sure that God will give him grace to repent in time of need. Now, if an endeavour after perfection, if doing the utmost we can do in "all things to keep a conscience void of offence," is confessed on all hands to be the least that can be meant by that perfection which is the condition of our salvation, then must double-minded persons be in a very dangerous state who cannot pretend that they perform this condition. For can that person be said to use his utmost endeavours to be perfect who, though he resists some temptations, yet not only yields to but even invites others? Doth he do all he can do to approve himself to God who doth as many actions, which he knows to be displeasing to God, as he doth actions acceptable? Can he be thought in earnest to press forwards towards the mark whose retreats are equal to his advances? who is always in motion, but rids no ground; and who, after some years spent in a course of religion, is got no farther than when he at first set out? As well may he be thought a perfect scholar who, in that part of learning he professes, is ignorant of as many things as he knows; or that be deemed a perfect animal which, of those limbs it should have, wants as many as it hath, or which is destitute of as many organs of sense as it enjoys.

III. IT IS INCONSISTENT WITH THAT SINCERE FAITH UPON THE OBSERVANCE OF WHICH ON OUR PART WE EXPECT SALVATION, "if we examine the faith of a double-minded person, if we try it by its works, we shall not find it thus general and impartial. He finds gracious promises the gospel annexed to the performance of some duties, and these he pretends to discharge on purpose that he may inherit those precious promises; but he finds also severe threats denounced against some sins; and, notwithstanding these threats, he goes on in a constant habitual commission of them. Now, how is his performance of these duties a better proof that he heartily believes those promises than his voluntary transgressions are, that in his heart he disbelieves those threats?

(Bp. Smalridge.)

A two-souled man is unsettled; "unstable in all ways." His opinions are fluctuating; and so are his sentiments. Sometimes he is repenting of his sins, and sometimes he is repenting of his repentance. Sometimes the importance of the future overwhelms him, and sometimes he feels theft nothing is worth thinking of but the present. Such instability of sentiment must unsettle the believer. The man is sometimes as serene as a May morning, and sometimes as sweeping as a cyclone. You can never know how he will receive you, or how he will behave under certain circumstances. His instability imparts its changefulness to his countenance; while he is looking one way, his soul has gone another. His speech is ambiguous, his tone of voice wavering, his utterance now very rapid and now very slow. Sometimes he answers offhand and without reflection, and then he requires so much time to consider that the opportunity for speech has passed. He is untrustworthy in every department of life. That man cannot receive anything of the Lord. He cannot hold his hand long enough to have anything placed therein.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

I. "LET THE BROTHER OF LOW DEGREE REJOICE IN THAT HE IS EXALTED." When called to rejoice we expect a reason. Good cause may exist for joy; but unless we know it we cannot be affected by it. But in the injunction before us there is no want of true sympathy. A reason is assigned, "Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is exalted." The first thing here to be noticed is, that the humiliation and the exaltation cannot be of the same description. The one is temporal, the other spiritual — temporal depression, spiritual elevation. Their abasement as the children of earth and mortality is set in contrast with their exaltation as the children of God, and heaven, and eternity.

1. The poor of Christ's people are "exalted" as to birth. The poorest believer is a child of God, by the redeeming purchase of Christ's blood, and the regenerating power of His Spirit.

2. He is exalted as to character. This is inseparably associated with the former dignity. That birth itself is a change of character. It is a birth into a new life: a life of new principles, affections, desires, and a new course of conduct; and it is true "exaltation" — from the debasement of sin to the beauty of holiness — from the image of Satan to the image of God.

3. "The brother of low degree is exalted" in regard to his society. The poor Christian frequents no palaces; graces no parties of aristocratic fashion. But he has society which "the world knoweth not of"; society far higher than the highest to which this world, in its best estate, could introduce him. It is a society, indeed, which the world does not acknowledge, but it is honoured of God. They are "the excellent of the earth, in whom is all His delight"; and of whom He hath said, "I will dwell among them, and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they shall be My people."

4. "The brother of low degree is exalted" in power; in dominion; in honour. It is a spiritual power; not a power of spiritual oppression, but of self-subjugation and self-control; and the power that proves victorious over the mightiest of the enemies of mankind — "the world, the flesh, and the devil."

5. "Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is exalted" in riches. The poorest believer is rich — rich in the present possession of "all spiritual blessings, in heavenly places, in Christ Jesus"; rich in the future hope of the" inheritance that is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away"; and, in one all-comprehensive word, rich in having "God Himself as the portion of his inheritance and cup."

6. "The brother of low degree may rejoice in being exalted," when he surveys his prospects. These are transcendently glorious. They surpass all our feeble conceptions.

II. Pass we now to the CONTRAST. It is contrast only as to this world and to time; for the spiritual blessings and hopes of poor and rich in the Church of God are the same: "But the rich, in that he is made low: because as the flower of the grass he shall pass away" (ver. 10). Now, according to the testimony of the Bible — confirmed by a sad amount of experience — riches, operating upon the corruption of the human heart, are ever apt to produce in their possessor the spirit of pride and vanity; of self-confidence and self-elation. Even when the tendency does not, in any remarkable degree, manifest itself in the behaviour and bearing of the rich toward their fellow-men, it appears in a spirit of independence — of "trust in their wealth, and boasting themselves of the multitude of their riches," and of a forgetfulness of God. Instead of being led by the gifts to the Giver, they forget the Giver in the gifts; and, in the use of them, place self before God. If such be the strength of this tendency, has not the Christian whom God, in His providence, has blessed with a large amount of this world's good cause to be thankful when in spite of it he has, by the influence of the Divine Spirit, been "made low"? when, by that Divine influence, he has been made an exception to the atheistical tendencies of his riches, and kept in the spirit of humility and in the spiritual-mindedness of devotion to God? The "lowliness" here made the ground of grateful joy consists essentially in two things, which ever accompany each other, and in their elementary nature may be regarded as one — namely, a sense of entire dependence on the God of providence for every temporal good, and a sense of equal dependence on the God of grace for all spiritual and eternal blessings.

III. Notice now the GROUNDS on which "the rich" brother is called to rejoice in his being "made low." They are such as these —

1. The transitory nature of all the riches and honours of this world. Had the rich man not been "made low," he might have drawn upon himself the temporary admiration of his fellow-men; and that would have been all: he should have "passed away, and been no more seen"; all his honours dying with him. He would thus, like other rich men, have "had his portion in this life" — a pitiful portion for an immortal creature! — and then have gone destitute into another world. Well for him, then, that he has been "made low," for —

2. By this he has been brought into possession even here of better blessings than the world can furnish. His very humility is, as a creature and a sinner, his true honour; as it is the honour of the first archangel before the throne. In that humility, too, Jehovah has complacency. He obtains the smile and the blessing of Jehovah, and all the present joy, and all the soul-satisfying hope which that smile and that blessing impart. Which leads me to notice —

3. That the rich man who is thus "made low," besides true honour and blessing from God in this world, becomes an heir of a richer heritage than any which he could ever attain to here, where all is corruptible and fading. It is by his having been "made low" that he has been ', made meet to be a partaker of that inheritance." But for this he might have continued to enjoy his earthly riches and honours — "clothed in purple and fine linen, and faring sumptuously every day "-but he must have forfeited the inheritance above — "the better country, even the heavenly."

(R. Wardlaw, D. D.)

I. THE TWO CLASSES OF PERSONS ADDRESSED.

1. Poor Christians. He calls the party addressed a "brother," that is obviously a brother in the faith of the gospel, a member of the same spiritual family. It was thus Christians then spoke of, and to each other. They realised the endearing relationship which subsisted between them — a bond not of a merely figurative or formal nature, but most intimate. He is not simply a brother, but one "of low degree" — that is, in humble circumstances. James had called on them generally, irrespective of any distinctions among them, to count it joy when they fell into divers temptations, and now he specially presses this on the class here addressed. The brother of low degree, without wealth, without rank, without influence, without any of the coveted possessions or advantages of earth, is exhorted to exult.

2. Rich believers. Here he says simply, "the rich," and as the other party was the man poor temporally, so this doubtless, and still more evidently, is the man rich temporally. And the person thus singled out represents not this class of people generally, but those of them who belong to the household of faith. It is still a "brother" whom he addresses. Both had reason to rejoice, notwithstanding the wide separation between them in all outward respects. The lowest and the, highest alike had matter of exultation. The gospel placed them on the same platform of spiritual privilege. In Jesus all classes meet add have a common heritage of blessing.

II. THE TWO GROUNDS OF BOASTING RECOMMENDED.

1. In the case of the poor brother, it is his exaltation. He is to rise above his outward poverty and the depression connected with it, and to glory in the elevation to which he has been raised, the treasures of which he has become possessed, as one of God's people. Taken from the dunghill, he sits among the princes; and, high as he is already, he is advancing towards a height of glory, transcending not only his attainments, but even his conceptions. He is the heir of a portion, in comparison with which all the estates and dignities of earth are not worthy to be named. Well may the poor man lose sight of his low degree, rise far above all its privations, and exult in his being thus spiritually exalted. So far we have viewed the exhortation generally; but doubtless it carries a special reference to the temptations treated of both in the preceding and succeeding verses. The exaltation was closely connected with them; it resulted in no small degree from the suffering they involved. Such dispensations seem fitted only to reduce to a low degree. But they do the very reverse. They cast down, but they also raise up; they empty, but only in order to fill us with something far better. If they abase with one hand, they elevate with the other. For consider how they link us with, and assimilate us to the Lord Jesus. These trials purify and ennoble the character. Even Jesus was thus perfected.

2. In the case of the rich brother, it is his humiliation. "But the rich, in that he is made low." The Christian is net to glory in his worldly elevation. That had been forbidden long before (Jeremiah 9:23). It is not his being lifted high, but his being brought down, which is to constitute his ground of boasting. As the poor believer was to rejoice in his exaltation, the wealthy one is to rejoice in his humiliation. As the former of these terms must be understood spiritually, so must the latter; for it is only thus there can be a proper contrast, as is evidently intended. The natural tendency of wealth is to fill Inert with pride, self-confidence, vainglory. There is no more formidable barrier in the way of that poverty of spirit which is a fundamental characteristic of all Christ's disciples. When, then, the affluent are delivered from this snare; when they are enabled to see the emptiness of all their treasures, and the danger which the possession of them involves; when they are made willing to take their places in the dust as sinners — to abase themselves before God, and walk without high looks and haughty bearing among men — they have good reason to rejoice, exult, glory. In this humiliation lies their defence against evils of terrible power and endless duration. This being made low is, not less than the other, the fruit of temptations and trials. These are often the means of bringing down those whose looks are high, and laying them in the dust of selfabasement. It is thus that many enter the kingdom. God employs painful dispensations of providence to awaken them out of their security, and to prepare them for submission to the doctrines of the gospel. James enforces the exhortation by the consideration that earthly riches are perishable, transitory in their nature, and that all who trust in them, identify themselves with them, are doomed to speedy destruction.

(John Adam.)

I. THEIR CIRCUMSTANCES ARE DIFFERENT.

1. Circumstances are no test of character.

2. Christians should be contented with their lot.

3. There are opportunities for the exercise of brotherly benevolence.

II. THEIR CAUSE FOR JOY IS THE SAME.

1. Not in external circumstances.

2. In spiritual triumph over circumstances.

(U. R. Thomas.)

I. CHANGE IS NEEDFUL FOR THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE NOBLER FACULTIES OF MAN'S NATURE. It keeps alive those faculties of mind and heart that are already active; rouses into activity those that are lying dormant; and hinders us from falling into mere routine and mental and moral barrenness.

II. CHANCE IS NEEDFUL TO KEEP US FROM FORGETTING GOD AND RELAPSING INTO CALLOUS SELF-CONFIDENCE. There is a painful truth in what David says — in our prosperity we think we shall never be moved. And we become self-indulgent, self-sufficient, and forgetful of God, and are only reminded of our duty to Him, and our dependence upon Him, when He hides His face, and breaks in upon our prosperity; when storm waves threaten to engulf us, we cry, "Lord, save, or I perish."

III. CHANGES ARE NEEDFUL FOR THE FOSTERING OF SPIRITUAL LIFE AND GROWTH. If there are no changes in our religious life, or in the discharge of our religious duties, religion not infrequently relapses into mere formalism, machine work. To prevent this, and to rouse the soul to greater activity, God sends us changes. He stops the orderly machine — throws it out of gear, compels us to pause awhile and examine the various parts, and adjust them and start afresh.

IV. CHANGES ARE NEEDFUL TO SLACKEN OUR HOLD ON EARTH, AND STRENGTHEN OUR HOLD ON HEAVEN. By a thousand alternating lights and shades the mind has forced upon it the fact of the instability of terrestrial things, and the folly of setting our affections too firmly upon them; while at the same time, it is made to feel the need of some centre of stability where change is not, some rock of strength on which it may build without fear of coming storms.

(W. Fox.)

Read fairly the words of St. James cannot fail to carry this plain sense to our minds: that the Christian brother who is poor in this world's goods is to be glad when he gets rich in this world's goods; and that the Christian brother who is rich in these goods is to be glad when God takes them away from him, since God will only take them away when it is for his good. And if we sincerely believe, as we profess to believe, spiritual good to be better than temporal good, and spiritual wealth to be far more precious than temporal wealth, I am persuaded that we should never think of taking these words in any other sense. For St. James is the most prosaic, the least mystical, of the New Testament writers. It is almost impossible to misunderstand him except by thrusting meanings into his words which never entered into his mind. But the verses do not stand alone. They are intimately connected both with the verses which go before and the verses which follow them. Directly he has uttered his opening salutation, the apostle strikes his key-note. In the salutation he had wished the Christians of the Hebrew dispersion joy — "Joy to you." But what a wish was that for men whom their heathen neighbours hated because they were Jews, and their Jewish neighbour hated because they were Christians! How could men so miserable hope for joy? St. James teaches them: "Count it all joy," &c. But what was this strange art of extracting joy from sorrow, honour from shame, gain from loss? St. James teaches them this also. Trials beget that patient and constant temper which makes a man mature, complete in character, so that he lacks nothing. If, then, they made perfection of Christian character their first aim, preferring it before all happy outward conditions, they would rejoice in any change of condition which put their character to the test and helped to make it perfect. So that these verses, taken quite literally, fall in with the whole scope of the apostle's argument. With that argument in view it becomes impossible to take them in any other than this plain sense. The poor man is to be glad when he is tried by riches, remembering, however, that for him they are a trial; and the rich man is to be glad when he is tried by poverty, and to take comfort in the conviction that it is a trial by which God is seeking to make a man of him, rounded and complete in character, lacking nothing that he ought to have. The ruling thought of these verses is, then, that great reverses of fortune are a test of Christian character, and a means of Christian perfection; and that we ought not simply to bear them patiently, but to rejoice in them because they so test our character as to mature and perfect it. Yet no one will deny that the reverses by which such a character is formed are very searching trials, very hard to meet in a manly, still harder to meet in a Christian, spirit. When you see a poor good man suddenly made rich, are you not a little afraid for him, though, perhaps, in the same circumstances, you would have no fear for yourself? Do you not fear that he may lose in humility, in sobriety, in spirituality; that he will pamper his senses with unaccustomed luxuries; that his devotion to Christ and the Church may grow weaker? On the other hand, when you see a "rich brother," who has been successful in business, and for many years has lived in luxury and ease, suddenly reduced to comparative penury: if he has to "begin life again" when the strength and sanguine hopefulness of youth are past, do you not fear for him? Do you not fear that his piety may prove to have been a mere adjunct of his prosperity; that his patience may fail him; that he may grow sour. irritable, suspicious; that he may fail to get any good from the evil which has befallen him; that he may confound misfortune with disgrace, lose his self-respect, and conclude that he has forfeited the respect of men because it has pleased God to bring him low? The shoe does not always pinch where our neighbours think it does. The most searching test in these great reverses is often, not in their direct, but in their indirect, consequences. A man, without being a hero, may have so much of goodness and of good sense as that a sudden access of fortune would make little difference to him, none in him, if he stood alone in the world: and yet it may pierce him and try him to the heart because others share it with him. He may have a vulgar wife, fond of show, or children who will give themselves airs, or friends who flatter him, or servants whose solemn, formal deference gives him a sense of importance; and by all these indirect influences his own standard of thought and duty may be insensibly changed and lowered. And the other man, the rich man who has been smitten with poverty, may be affected in a similar manner. To a sensible good man outward changes are of little moment save as they affect character and usefulness. How many a good fellow have we all known to whom the hard work and comparative penury of a reduced income has been a positive relief, and who would have snapped his fingers at "Fortune and her wheel" had he had no one to care for but himself, or had those for whom he was bound to care been likeminded with himself! But if he has a wife who frets or storms, or children who sulk or wrangle; if those immediately dependent upon him are too "stuck up" to work for their bread, and yet cannot eat their bread without a good deal of the best butter — then his trial may become very penetrating and severe. Are we to rejoice in such trials as these? Yes, even in these; for these, too, test our character and may help to make us perfect. St. James, indeed, speaks only of poverty and riches; but of course he includes under these terms whatever other changes or reverses they involve. And if a man finds his kind, pleasant wife changed into a "fine lady" by prosperity, or into a shrew by adversity; if a woman finds her once kind and manly husband turned into a fretful poltroon by misfortune, or into a lazy sensualist by wealth, these sorrowful changes are part of the reverses which have come upon them; they are among the consequences of having been "lifted up" or "brought low"; and in these also the apostle bids us rejoice. Before we can honestly give, or take, the apostle's comfort, we must occupy his position, we must hold his convictions, we must rise to the full stature of men in Christ Jesus. St. James held that this world would soon pass away, and that we should still sooner pass out of it; but that there is another world in which we shall live for ever, and in which our conditions will be shaped by our character. In his view, therefore, the chief aim of every man was, or should be, to form in himself a character which would best fit him both for the life that now is, and for that which is to come. It mattered very little whether he was rich or poor in things which he must soon leave behind him: what did matter was that by the enjoyment or by the loss of these things he should be qualifying himself for, should be laying hold of, the life which is eternal. Whatever changes, whatever reverses, contributed to elevate, purify, complete the power and quality of his life, and stamp on it the characters of immortality, should therefore be welcome to him.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

I. CHRISTIANITY TEACHES THAT MAN, HOWEVER LOW IN DEGREE, IS MAN STILL. The millions are not aware of the greatness of their nature. Spite of the fall, man still possesses intelligence, conscience, moral sensibility, and power to will. Redemption comes to him as an angel of light, and proposes to take the wanderer by the hand, and conduct him to the great Father — to glory and perfection.

II. CHRISTIANITY TEACHES THAT MAN, HOWEVER EXALTED IN POSITION, IS BUT MAN. It is as great an error in the rich to think too highly of themselves as it is for the poor to think too meanly of themselves. The spirit of many is, that pence make shillings, shillings make pounds, and pounds make men. How common, but how erroneous this! Christianity gives us the true idea of humanity. Only let its light enter the mind — then the poor, the degraded, the rude barbarian, the privileged Jew, the philosophic Greek, and the cultivated European, will feel that they are men, and but men. The one is exalted, the Other is made low.

III. CHRISTIANITY TEACHES THAT ALL MEN, INDEPENDENT OF CIRCUMSTANCES, ARE EQUAL. The brother of low degree and the rich are one in everything which constitutes man.

1. Physically (Genesis 3:20; Genesis 10:32; Acts 17:26).

2. Morally. Our common depravity proves the oneness of the race.

IV. CHRISTIANITY TEACHES THAT MAN IS THE SUBJECT OF GREAT VICISSITUDES.

1. Riches are not of human, but of Divine disposal.

2. Riches and poverty are no proof of Divine pleasure and displeasure.

3. The only test of Divine approval or disapproval is moral character.

V. CHRISTIANITY TEACHES THAT THE EXALTATION OF THE POOR AND THE HUMILIATION OF THE RICH ARE SOURCES OF REJOICING. They now see their nature in the light of Christianity. Their errors are corrected; they now think of themselves as they ought to think; they now behold their equality with each other. Between them there is no feeling of superiority and inferiority. They rejoice in their common brotherhood and oneness.

(J. Briggs.)

1. The people of God are brethren. They are begotten by the same Spirit, by the same immortal seed of the Word. They have many engagements upon them to all social and brotherly affection. Ah! then live and love as brethren. Averseness of heart and carriage will not stand with this sweet relation.

2. He saith "of low degree," and yet "brother." Meanness doth not take away Church relations. Christian respects are not to be measured by these outward things; a man is not to be measured by them, therefore certainly not a Christian. We choose a horse by his strength and swiftness, not the gaudiness of his trappings; that which Christians should look at is not these outward additaments, but the eminency of grace (James 2:1).

3. Not a" man" of low degree, but a "brother." It is not poverty, but poor Christianity that occasioneth joy and comfort.

4. From the word τάπεινος — it signifieth both humble, and of low degree — observe, that the meanest have the greatest reason to be humble; their condition always maketh the grace in season — poverty and pride are most unsuitable. It was one of Solomon's odd sights, to see "servants on horseback, and princes going on foot" (Ecclesiastes 10:7). A poor proud man is a prodigy of pride; he hath less temptation to be proud, he hath more reason to be humble.

5. God may set His people in the lowest rank of men. A brother may be τάπεινος, base and abject, in regard of his outward condition. "The Captain of salvation," the Son of God Himself, was "despised and rejected of men" (Isaiah 53:3); in the original, "the leaving-off of men"; implying that He appeared in such a form and rank that He could scarce be said to be man, but as if He were to be reckoned among some baser kind of creatures; as Psalm 22:6.

6. From that "let the brother of low degree glory." That the most abject condition will not excuse us from murmuring: "though you be base, yet you may rejoice and glory in the Lord. A man cannot sink so low as to be past the help of spiritual comforts. Though the worst thing were happened to you, poverty, loss of goods, exile, yet in all this there is no ground of impatience: the brother of low degree may pitch upon something in which he may glory. Well, then, do not excuse passion by misery, and blame your condition when you should blame yourselves: it is not your misery, but your passions, that occasion sin; wormwood is not poison.

7. From that rejoice, or glory, or boast. There is a concession of some kind of boasting to a Christian: he may glory in his privileges. To state this matter, I shall show you —(1) How he may not boast.

(a)Not to set off self, self-worth, self-merits; so the apostle's reproof is just (1 Corinthians 4:7).

(b)Not to vaunt it over others (Isaiah 65:5).(2) How he may boast.

(a)If it he for the glory of God, to exalt God, not ourselves (Psalm 34:2).

(b)To set out the worth of your privileges (Romans 5:3).

8. From that "he is exalted." That grace is a preferment and exaltation; even those of low degree may be thus exalted. All the comforts of Christianity are such as are riddles and contradictions to the flesh: poverty is preferment; servants are freemen, the Lord's freemen (1 Corinthians 7:22). The privileges of Christianity take off all the ignominy of the world.

9. The greatest abasures and sufferings for Christ are an honour to us (Acts 5:41).

(T. Manrope.)

If any object here that St. James willeth the brother of low degree to rejoice when he is exalted, and the rich man when he is made low, which seemeth contrary to other Scriptures, where we are exhorted to rejoice only in God, as Jeremiah 9:23, 24; Philippians 4:4, hereunto the answer is easy. First, if we acknowledge whatsoever happeneth unto us to be from God, who both casteth down and lifteth up, then either in our low degree being exalted, or in our riches being humbled, to rejoice is to rejoice in that God sendeth, and so to rejoice in the Lord. Secondly, if again we look into our own wretched condition, who of ourselves have nothing, but whatsoever we have we have received it, then in the things which we have received moderately to rejoice is also to rejoice in the Lord, who is the Fountain of all graces and blessings. Finally, if we hold this as a ground and foundation that all good gifts flowing unto man grow of His mere favour and mercy, and not from any merit or desert of ours, then in the good blessings of God, of exaltation, advancement, glory, or other whatsoever, to rejoice is godly, Christian, and dutiful; and thus men rejoicing rejoice in the Lord. The Apostle James, then, in exhorting the brother of low degree to rejoice when he is exalted, and the rich in like manner when he is made low, is in all points answerable unto other Scriptures, wherein we are required to rejoice in the Lord, for thus for God's sake, and in obedience of His commandments to rejoice, is to rejoice in the Lord also.

(R. Turnbull.)

In the Old Testament worldly wealth is set forth as the reward of righteousness; in the New Testament poverty is commended and riches contemned. When mankind were in their infancy God rewarded them as infants; but on their attaining to years of discretion He sets before them worthier treasures than those things that perish in the using. When, therefore, Christians look on wealth as the reward of righteousness, they are as grown-up sons mistaking nursery toys for their inheritance. God has, as it were, opened our nursery door, and shown to us the splendid domain to which we are heirs, and bus bid us go forth and fit ourselves for the larger life. When, then, He puts away our toys, and sends us to school to learn the duties of the life before us, shall we, as silly children, sit down and cry over our banished plaything rather than submit to the discipline wherein we may learn how to acquit ourselves as men? Do we wish to go into the next stage of being mere milksops, having all to learn which we ought to have learned here? Earthly wealth is a thing of sight, and just in so far as it is loved and leaned on is it a hindrance to the development of faith. If we have grown accustomed to measure life's enjoyment and life's success by the money we possess, shall we notbe at a great disadvantage when we enter a sphere where money is unknown? Christians have been so swept along by the rush of the world after pleasures that wealth procures, that they are little aware of their unfitness for higher joys.

(The Christian World Pulpit.)

What is the meaning of the "high estate" (ὕψος) in which the brother of low degree is to glory, and of the "being made low" (ταπείυωσις), in which the rich man is to do the same? At first sight one is disposed to say that the one is the heavenly birthright, and the other the Divine humiliation, in which every one shares who becomes a member of Christ; in fact, that they are the same thing looked at from different points of view; for what to the Christian is promotion, to the world seems degradation. If this were correct, then we should have an antithesis analogous to that in 1 Corinthians 7:22. But on further consideration this attractive explanation is found not to suit the context. What analogy is there between the humiliation in which every Christian glories in Christ and the withering of herbage under a scorching wind? Even if we could allow that this metaphor refers to the fugitive character of earthly possessions, what has that to do with Christian humiliation, which does not depend upon either the presence or the absence of wealth? Moreover, St. James says nothing about the fugitiveness of riches: it is the rich man himself, and not his wealth, that is said to "pass away," and to "fade away in his goings." It is a baseless assumption to suppose that the rich man here spoken of is a Christian at all. "The brother of low degree" is contrasted, not with the brother who is rich, but with the rich man, whose miserable destiny shows that he is not "a brother," i.e., not a believer. The latter is the wealthy Jew who rejects Christ. Throughout this Epistle (James 2:6, 7; James 5:1-6) "rich" is a term of reproach. This is what is meant by the Ebionite tone of the Epistle; for poverty is the condition which Ebionism delights to honour. In this St. James seems to be reproducing the thoughts both of Jesus Christ and of Jesus the son of Sirach (Luke 6:25, 26; cf. Matthew 19:23-25; Ecclus 13:3, 20). But when we have arrived at the conclusion that the "being made low" does not refer to the humiliation of the Christian, and that the rich man here threatened with a miserable end is not a believer, a new difficulty arises. What is the meaning of the wealthy unbeliever being told to glory in the degradation which is to prove so calamitous to him? In the exhortation to the rich man St. James speaks in severe irony: "Let the brother of low degree glory in his high estate; and the rich man — what is he to glory in? — let him glory in the only thing upon which he can count with certainty, viz., his being brought low; because as the flower of the grass he shall pass away." Whether or no this interpretation be accepted it must be clearly borne in mind that no explanation can be correct which does not preserve the connection between the humiliation of the rich man and his passing away as the flower of the grass. This fading away is his humiliation, is the thing in which he is to glory, if he glories in anything at all. The inexorable "because "must not be ignored or explained away by making the wealth of the rich man shrivel up, when St. James twice over says that it is the rich man himself who fades away.

(A. Plummer, D. D.)

I. THE UNEQUAL DISTRIBUTION OF THE GOOD THINGS OF THIS LIFE IS A FACT WHICH HAS OFTEN PROVED A STUMBLING-BLOCK TO PROUD UNBELIEVERS.

1. The poor Christian is here called a "brother": and this title at once marks his real dignity. He has been adopted into the family of Heaven. He is a child of God, a brother of Christ, an heir of glory.

2. It is not only by the nobleness of their future and eternal prospects that the gospel "exalts" the poor: it equally exalts them as to their present condition and enjoyments. See how it raises them above all those little envyings and grudgings which are too often found in their station of life. It sets before them "the true riches," and thus makes them indifferent about the things of this present evil world.

3. It exalts them above many of the cares of life. While others are "running here and there for meat," etc. — incessantly crying, "Who will show us any good?" and suffering from continual fears of not being provided for — the Christian looks up to that bountiful Hand which has never failed him yet, and which, he knows, never will.

4. The gospel exalts "the brother of low degree," even in his mind and ideas. Worldly learning has indeed its use; and it is a gift of God, for which those who possess it should be thankful; yet is it good for nothing to the owner, if he be at the same time destitute of that "wisdom which cometh from above." It is recorded of a certain great scholar that he exclaimed on his deathbed, "Alas! I have wasted my life in laborious trifling."

5. We might proceed to show, in several other instances, how the gospel, when received into the heart, improves and exalts the poor of this world — how it creates in them habits of industry, cleanliness, regularity, temperance, domestic affection, liberality, brotherly kindness, and every social virtue.

II. THE RICHER CLASS OF CHRISTIANS HAVE ABUNDANT CAUSE TO REJOICE IN THAT ABASEMENT WHICH THE GOSPEL BRINGS WITH IT.

1. Riches themselves are a dreadful clog upon the soul.

2. It is not riches alone that are hurtful to the soul; it is what accompanies wealth, or the higher stations of life, that is so dangerous.

3. Look, again, at the mode of life which prevails among the better classes of society, and there see what dangers surround them on every side. The leisure which the better classes enjoy gives the tempter many a fatal opportunity against them. This leisure must be filled up: for the human mind has an insatiable appetite; and while Satan does everything in his power to keep it from its proper nourishment, "the bread of life," he always takes care, in the meanwhile, to supply it abundantly with the poisonous husks of worldly pleasure-in the shape of trifling and seductive books, fashionable parties, public amusements, &c.If, therefore, at any time the grace of God touches the heart of one who is surrounded by these temptations — humbling him in true repentance, and bringing him to a genuine and active faith in Christ — how clearly do we then perceive the motive for the apostle's exhortation.

1. Let him "rejoice that he is made low" in the spirit of his mind, and in his estimate of his own state and character.

2. In his estimate of the world, and his expectations from James 2:3. Should God lay His chastening hand heavily upon the rich brother — to reduce him from affluence to poverty — to bereave him of the dear objects of his affection — to visit him with bodily pain and sickness — or even to bring upon him all these calamities together; yet, even then, he would have cause to rejoice — yes, "to rejoice in that he is" thus "made low"; for affliction is the peculiar mark of the Lord's children; and sanctified affliction is one of the best and most profitable gifts His fatherly wisdom ever bestows on them.

(W. Hancock, B. D.)

I. WEALTH IS COMPATIBLE WITH PERSONAL RELIGION. Some, in successive ages of the world, have been arrested by Divine grace amidst the splendour of high estate, and, feeling that these are but a paltry portion for a spirit fallen by sin and doomed to immortality, have sought a richer boon — a nobler birthright. Many, too, who were brought to Christ when moving in a humble sphere have, by diligence, honesty, and temperance, become the possessors of a considerable amount of worldly riches. And fearful though it be for a man to be rich before he is converted, and necessary as vigilance ever is, as to others, so not least to the rich believer, piety may flourish as truly in the sumptuous hall as at the cottage-hearth.

II. THE RICH BROTHER IS LOWLY. He knows the grandeur and purity of God, and he knows the weakness and corruption of his own soul. He feels how unsatisfactory earthly possessions are. He realises that decisive event which is sure to scatter man's accumulated treasures to the winds, and to lay all earthly honours in the dust. And as for the faith which brought peace and safety to his soul, and the piety that holds its dwelling in his heart, he is ready to exclaim (1 Corinthians 15:10).

III. THE RICH BROTHER IS HERE CALLED TO TRIUMPH IN HIS LOWLINESS. Christian humility, on the part of the wealthy believer, is a favourable symptom of his state. It is, according to an oft-repeated principle of Scripture, a prelude of future advancement in the scale of dignity and blessedness. It is an important qualification for a considerate distribution of wealth among the destitute. And finally, it is what the unsatisfactoriness, and transitoriness of earthly riches, and the weakness, as well as sinfulness, of their possessor, may well inspire.

(A. S. Patterson, D. D.)

1. Riches are not altogether inconsistent with Christianity. Usually they are a great snare. The moon never suffers eclipse but when it is at the full; and usually in our fulness we miscarry (Matthew 19:24). Plato, a heathen, saith the same almost with Christ, that it is impossible for a man to be eminently rich and eminently good. But you will say, "What will you have Christians to do then — in a lavish luxury to throw away their estates? or in an excess of charity to make others full, when themselves are empty?" No (see Matthew 19:26; Mark 10:23, 24). Riches in the having, in the bare possession, are not a hindrance to Christianity, but in our abuse of them. Your possessions will not be your ruin till your corruptions mingle with them. Under the law the poor and rich were to pay the same ransom (Exodus 30:15), intimating they may have interest in the same Christ. Riches in themselves are God's blessings that come within a promise. Yea, riches with a blessing are so far from being a hindrance to grace, that they are an ornament to it (Proverbs 14:24).

2. A. rich man's humility is his glory. Your excellency cloth not lie in the splendour of your condition, but in the meekness of your hearts. Humility is not only a clothing — "Put on humbleness of mind" (Colossians 3:12) — but an ornament. "Be decked with humility" (1 Peter 5:5). A high mind and a low condition are all one to the Lord, only poverty hath the advantage, because it is usually gracious. If any may glory, they may glory that have most arguments of God's love. Now a lowly mind is a far better testimony of it than a high estate. And so before men, as said, he is a great man that is not lifted up because of his greatness. You are not better than others by your estate, but your meekness. The apostles possessed all things though they had nothing. They have more than you if they have a humble heart.

3. The way to be humble is to count the world's advantages our abasement. The poor man must glory in that he is exalted, but the rich in that he is made low. Honours and riches do but set us beneath other men, rather than above them, and do rather abate from than add anything to you; and it may be you have less of the Spirit because you have more of the world.

4. If we would be made low in the midst of worldly enjoyments, we should consider the uncertainty of them. Outward riches are so far from being the best things, that they rather are not anything at all. Solomon calleth them "that which is not"; and who ever loved nothing, and would be proud of that which is not?

5. The uncertainty of worldly enjoyments may be well resembled by a flower — beautiful, but fading.(1) Though the things of the world are specious, yet they should not allure us, because they are fading. Flowers are sweet, and affect the eye, but their beauty is soon scorched; the soul is for an eternal good, that it may have a happiness suitable to its own duration. An immortal soul cannot have full contentment in that which is fading. When the creatures tempt you, be not enticed by the beauty of them, so as to forget their vanity. Say, Here is a flower, glorious, but fading; glass that is bright, but brittle.(2) The fairest things are most fading. Creatures, when they come to their excellency, then they decay, as herbs, when they come to flower, they begin to wither; or, as the sun when it cometh to the zenith, then it declineth. "Man at his best estate is altogether vanity" (Psalm 39:5); not at his worst only, when the feebleness and inconveniences of old age have surprised him. So the prophet speaketh of "a grasshopper in the beginning of the shooting up of the latter growth" (Amos 7:1). As soon as the ground recovered any verdure and greenness, presently there came a grasshopper to devour the herbage: the meaning is, a new affliction as soon as they began to flourish. Well, then, suspect these outward things when you most abound in them.

(T. Manton.)

Many Christian people are like some evening primroses, for whose opening we watched with some friends the other evening. It was a common-looking plant, and the buds were tightly wrapped up so long as the sun shone, and gave but faint promise of the coming beauty. But the moment the sun disappeared, and the gloom of the coming night was threatened in the darkening twilight, they suddenly burst their bonds, displaying sweet blossoms that crowned the homely stock with golden glory. So there are many men and women whose lives are homely and hard and selfish, until their sun of prosperity sets, and the gloom of coming sorrow overshadows them, when, unexpectedly, under that touch of trouble, a hidden bud blossoms in beauty and a sweetness of spirit and character that crowns the whole stock of their lives with goodness and glory.

St. James plays the fabulist, or historian here, and narrates the sad end of a certain blade of grass. In whose field, then, did this grass grow? All the commentators reply, "In that of the prophet Isaiah." St. James is here falling back on Old Testament words which would be familiar to the Jews for whom he wrote — words which his story would be sure to recall to their minds.

I. THE STORY OF THE BLADE OF GRASS (Isaiah 40:6-8). As we listen to the prophet, imagination stirs and works; we see the broad, pleasant field bathed in sunlight, fanned with sweet airs, thick with verdant grass, gay with the purely tinted, fragrant wild flowers which clothe the grass as with the robes of a king; and then we feel the fierce, hot blast sweep across the field, under whose breath the grass withers, the bright flowers fade, and all that teeming life, all that exquisite and varied beauty, is swallowed up of death. Who does not feel at times that that is a true picture of human life? And remembering how, in this field, every separate blade of grass and every fragile flower has its own little world of hopes and fears, joys and pains, who can fail to be saddened as he beholds them withered by a breath, their early promise unfulfilled, their goodliness not ripening to its maturity? "All flesh is grass" — all the great heathen races; but also "this people is grass" — a grass which withers like the rest. Like their neighbours, the Jews were in a constant flux, vexed by constant change. One generation came, and another went. The life, vexed with perpetual changes while it lasted, never continuing in one stay, was soon over and gone. Their only hope lay in obedience to the Divine Word, in appropriating that Word, in steeping their life in it till it became enduring as the Word itself.

II. THE MORAL OF THIS STORY. St. James is not content with a lesson so large and general as had contented Isaiah. He has a special purpose in view in telling the story which called up memories, prophetic and historic, from the past. As he had taken a single blade of grass out of Isaiah's broad field, so he selects one man, or one class of men, for special warning. The blade of grass reminds us that human life soon withers, that human fortune often withers even before the man dies. Yes; but it also reminds us that some men wither even while they retain the full vigour of their life, and their good fortune abides. The rich man "withers in his ways," in his goings to and fro along the lines of his traffic, before his health is touched, before his wealth is touched. And therefore, argues St. James, the rich man should rejoice when his riches use their wings and fly away. The alternative the apostle places before him is this: Let the wealth wither that the man may live, or let the man wither amid the abundance of his wealth. It is a hard saying I but, before we reject it as too hard for practical use, let us clearly understand what it means. James had just said, "Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is lifted up, but the rich in that he is brought low." Now, however much we may dislike the injunction, or part of it, can we deny that it is based on a true, on a Christian, view of human life? Are not sudden and large reverses of condition severe and searching tests of character? Does it not take a very good poor man to ride straight to God when he is set on horseback, and a very good rich man not to "break down" when he is "brought low"? Great reverses of fortune are very searching and conclusive tests of character. And can we expect a Christian teacher to bid us grieve over any reverse by which our character is tested, matured, perfected? The wealth and the poverty will soon pass, but the character will remain, and will determine our destiny. Does any one object, "It may be easy enough for a poor man to be glad when he gets rich; but how is a rich man to rejoice when he becomes poor? You ask too much of us, more than it is in man to give." I reply: "You are not speaking, and you know that you are not speaking, from the Christian point of view, in the spirit of Him who, when He was rich, for our sakes became poor. You are putting circumstances before character, transitory gains and pleasures before abiding and eternal realities. St. James himself felt that the latter half of his injunction was hard to flesh and blood; in demanding that the rich man should rejoice whenever he is brought low, he felt that he was imposing a very severe test on character, a very heavy strain on virtue. And that, I suppose, is why he told his story of the blade of grass, to which at last we come back. What he meant was, I think, to this effect: "You remember the prophet Isaiah's field of grass, and how it withered beneath the scorching heat, so that the flower thereof fell off, and the grace of its form perished. The rich man is often like a blade of that grass. The sun of prosperity shines on him more hotly than he can bear; all the promise and beauty of his nature fade beneath the scorching heat; he withers in his ways, in the multitude and perplexity of his schemes and pursuits: his fortune grows, but the man decays, dies before his time, dies even long before he ceases to breathe and traffic." Douglas Jerrold, one of our keenest wits and satirists, has depicted "a man made of money." He had only to put his hand into his breast to find it full of banknotes; but as he draws away note after note, he drains away his vitality; he dwindles and pines amid his vast schemes and luxuries month by month, till he wastes into a mere shadow, till the very shadow disappears. The picture is hardly a satire, it is so mere a comonplace. Every day we live we may see men dying of wealth, all that is manly, all that is fine and pure and noble in character, perishing as their fortunes grow. The warning comes home to us in this age as in few previous eras of the world; for our whole life is so rapid and intense, our business is such a strenuous and exhausting competition, we are solicited by so many schemes for our own advancement, or for the good of the town in which we dwell, or for the benefit of the commonwealth of which we form part, that it is almost impossible to make leisure for thought, for a quiet enjoyment of what we have gained, or for those religious meditations and exercises on which our spiritual health in large measure depends. We are literally withering away in our ways, so many are the paths we have to tread, so rapid the pace we have to maintain, so scorching and tainted the atmosphere we breathe. And hence, whether we are rich, or seeking riches, or are labouring with anxious and fretting care for a bare competence, we all need to take heed to the warning which speaks to us as to men; i.e., as to spiritual and immortal creatures, children of God and heirs of eternity. If we would not Suffer this world, which holds us by ties so many, so strong, and so exacting, to crush all high spiritual manhood out of us, we must set ourselves to be in this world as Christ was in the world. Let the mind that was in Christ be in us also; let us cultivate His preference of duty to pleasure, of service to gain, of doing good to getting good; and instead of withering away in our ways, we shall find every path in which we walk a path of life, a path that leads us home.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

The metaphor here used of the rich man is common enough in the Old Testament. Man "cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down," says Job, in his complaint (Job 14:2); and, "As for man, his days are as grass," etc., says the Psalmist (Psalm 103:15, 16). But elsewhere, with a closer similarity to the present passage, we have this transitory character specially attributed to the ungodly (Psalm 37:2). None of these passages, however, are so clearly in St. James's mind as the words of Isaiah (Isaiah 40:6, 7). Here the words of St. James are almost identical with those of the Septuagint. "Grass" throughout is a comprehensive term for herbage, and the "flower of grass" does not mean the bloom or blossom of grass in the narrower sense, but the wild flowers, specially abundant and brilliant in the Holy Land, which grow among the grass. "The scorching wind" (ὁ καύσων) is one of the features of the Epistle which harmonise well with the fact that the writer was an inhabitant of Palestine. It is the furnacelike blast from the arid wilderness to the east of the Jordan. The fig-tree, olives, and vine (James 3:12) are the chief fruit-trees of Palestine; and "the early and latter rain" (James 5:7) points still more clearly to the same district. It has been remarked with justice that whereas St. Paul for the most part draws his metaphors from the scenes of human activity — building, husbandry, athletic contests, and warfare — St. James prefers to take his metaphors from the scenes of nature. In this chapter we have "the surge of the sea" (ver. 6) and "the flower of the grass" (ver. 10). In the third chapter we have the "rough winds" driving the ships, the "wood kindled by a small fire," "the wheel of nature," "every kind of beasts and birds, of creeping things, and things in the sea," "the fountain sending forth sweet water," "the fig-tree and vine" (vers. 4-7, 11, 12). In the fourth chapter human life is "a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away" (ver. 14). And in the last chapter, besides the moth and the rust, we have "the fruit of the earth," and "the early and latter rain" (vers. 2, 3, 7, 18). These instances are certainly very numerous, when the brevity of the Epistle is considered. The love of nature which breathes through them was no doubt learned and cherished in the village home at Nazareth, and it forms another link between St. James and his Divine Brother. Nearly every one of the natural phenomena to which St. James directs attention in this letter are used by Christ also in His teaching. In some cases the use made by St. James of these natural objects is very similar to that made by our Lord, and it may well be that what he writes is a reminiscence of what he had heard years before from Christ's lips; but in other cases the use is quite different, and must be assigned to the love of nature, and the recognition of its fitness for teaching spiritual truths, which is common to the Lord and His brother. But there is this great difference between Christ's teaching from nature and that of St. James: St. James recognises in the order and beauty of the universe a revelation of Divine truth, and makes use of the facts of the external world to teach spiritual lessons; the incarnate Word, in drawing spiritual lessons from the external world, could expound the meaning of a universe which He Himself had made. In the one case it is a disciple of nature who imparts to us the lore which he himself has learned; in the other it is the Master of nature, who points out to us the meaning of His own world, and interprets to us the voices of the winds and the waves, which obey him.

(A. Plummer, D. D.)

I. We delight in pictures and emblems, for then the soul, by the help of fancy, hath a double view of the object in the similitude, which is, as it were, a picture of it, and then the thing itself. This was God's ancient way to teach His people by types; still He teacheth us by similitudes taken from common objects, that when we are cast upon them, spiritual thoughts may be awakened; and so every ordinary object is, as it were, consecrated to a heavenly purpose. Well, then, let this be your field meditation; when you see them decked with a great deal of bravery, remember all this is gone in an instant when the burning heat ariseth.

2. Our comforts are perishing in themselves, but especially when the hand of Providence is stretched out against them. The flower fadeth of itself, but chiefly when it is scorched by the glowing, burning east wind. Our hearts should be loose at all times from outward things, but especially in times of public desolation; it is a sin against Providence to effect great things; when God is overturning all, then there is a burning heat upon the flowers, and God is gone forth to blast worldly glory (Jeremiah 45:4, 5).There are three sins especially by which you make Providence your enemy, and so the creatures more vain.

1. When you abuse them to serve your lusts. Where there is pride and wantonness, you may look for a burning; certainly your flowers will be scorched and dried up.

2. When you make them objects of trust. God can brook no rivals; trust being the fairest and best respect of the creatures, it must not be intercepted, but ascend to God.

3. Worldly men pursue wealth with great care and industry. The rich turneth hither and thither, he hath several ways whereby to accomplish his ends. What pains do men take for things that perish! Do but observe their incessant care and unwearied industry, and say, how well would this suit with the heavenly treasure! It is a pity a plant that would thrive so well in Canaan should still grow in the soil of Egypt; that the zealous earnestness of the soul should be misplaced, and we should take more pains to be rich unto the world than to be rich towards God (Luke 12:21). Shall a lust have more power upon them than the love of God upon me? And when we see men "cumber themselves with much serving," and bustling up and down in the world, and all for riches that "take themselves wings and fly away," we may be ashamed that we do so little for Christ, and they do so much for wealth.

4. Lastly, again, from that ἐν ταῖς πορείαις "in his ways," or journeys. All our endeavours will be fruitless if God's hand be against us. As the flower to the burning heat, so is the rich man in his ways; that is, notwithstanding all his industry and care, God may soon blast him: they "earned wages, but put it in a bag with holes" (Haggai 1:6), that is, their gains did not thrive with them. Peter "toiled all night but caught nothing," till he took Christ into the boat (Luke 5:5). So you will catch nothing, nothing with comfort and profit, till you take God along with you (Psalm 127:2).

(T. Manton.)

There is a fable of a covetous man who chanced to find his way, one moonlight night, into a fairy's palace. There he saw bars, apparently of solid gold, strewn on every side; and he was permitted to take away as many as he could carry. In the morning, when the sun rose on his imaginary treasure, borne home with so much toil, behold I there was only a bundle of sticks; and invisible beings filled the air around him with scornful laughter. Such shall be the confusion of many a man that died in this world worth his thousands, and woke up in the next world not only "miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked" (Revelation 3:17), but in presence of a heap of fuel stored up against the great day of burning (Romans 2:5).

Do all rich men know how to be rich? He does not know how to do anything who does that thing so that he brings it to its worst and not its best results. Is that not true? A man does not know how to sail a ship who steers it so that when it ought to go to Liverpool he brings it into Madagascar. Where is the ship of wealth then meant to sail? Her port is clear and certain — to generosity and sympathy, and fineness of nature, and healthy use of powers. What shall we say, then, of the man whose money makes him selfish and cruel, and coarse and idle, or any one of these bad things? There are many hard names which we may call him by, but the real philosophy of the whole matter, the comprehensive definition of it all, is this — he does not know how to be rich! He is a blunderer in a great art. Look at his opposite. Look at the man who takes money into the easy mastery of his character, appropriates it. He makes it part of him. The richer that he grows the more generous and sympathetic and fine and active he becomes. What can you say of him but that he does know how to be rich. I say of a man that he knows how to travel when he makes each new country, as be enters it, open its secrets and render up to him new interest and knowledge. I say of a man that he does not know how to swim when the water takes possession of him and drowns him in itself. So I say that a man does not know how to be rich when his money makes him its slave, and turns him into a coarseness like itself instead of being elevated and refined by the commanding spirituality of his human soul.

(Bp. Phillips Brooks.)

What an awful thing it is to die rich! Imagine the Master auditing the account of a servant who has left behind a million! If that poor wretch who had but one talent was cast into outer darkness because he laid it up instead of using it in his Master's service, what will be the doom of those who, with their half millions and millions (while giving, it may be, a few thousands for decency's sake), have, year after year, hoarded up countless treasures which they could never use? Think of the poor saints pinched with cold and hunger! Think of the Redeemer's cause languishing for the want of that filthy lucre which they hold with close-fisted selfishness! Yet listen to their talk! "I am but a steward." "I am not my own." "Every believer in Jesus is my brother or sister." What a mockery! Will not this be the Master's language to many a professor: "Out of thine own mouth will I condemn thee"?

I. IN THE PRESENT LIFE MEN ARE EXPOSED TO TEMPTATIONS,

1. Men are tempted when assailed by Satan.

2. Men are tempted by their fellow-creatures.

3. Men are tempted by the afflictions and privations of life.

II. MEN ARE REQUIRED TO ENDURE TEMPTATION.

1. When it is borne in a spirit of unflinching piety.

2. When it induces the cultivation of a spirit of dependence on God.

3. When it is not allowed to hinder progress in piety.

III. THE REWARD OF SUCH AS ENDURE TEMPTATION.

1. Great dignity.

2. The enduring character of their reward.

IV. THE SECURITY OF THIS REWARD.

(Evangelical Preacher.)

This is a blessing which the true disciple of Christ should never weary of holding in remembrance. At the very outset of his letter the apostle strikes this keynote: "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into divers trials, knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh endurance." What the Christian needs is the power of patient endurance, and the apostle goes on to say how this may be secured. We want wisdom to learn the lessons of experience; and wisdom is given to those who ask for it in faith. It is the want of faith which causes instability. Our subject, then, is — The various trials which we meet in daily life, and which put to the proof our faith and power of endurance. Our true life in this world is a life of struggle, and our true wisdom is to learn by experience what is the real good of life. Some of the trials which we have to endure come upon us by God's appointment from the circumstances in which we are placed, and over which we have no control. Just as the worth of a sailor is tested by the length and the roughness of the voyage, as the courage of a soldier is put to proof by the marches and the battles he must go through, so is every one of us put to the test by the ordinary circumstances of life; and according to the stuff that we show ourselves to be made of, according to our worth, so will be our judgment. There is no escaping this process of trial: from our earliest days till we draw our last breath it is the inevitable lot of each one of us. God has appointed to every time of life its own discipline, and true progress is possible only if we make a right use of the advantages which lie to our hand, only if we learn the wisdom of experience from each passing season as it comes and goes. But it is when we go forth from the home and school, and begin to do life's work in earnest, that we find out what it is to live, and how hard it often is to live as we would wish. The conditions of modern society are not altogether favourable to virtue and godliness. On the one hand we have wealth and culture, and refined ease and pleasure-seeking; we have thoughtful inquiry into the nature of things, bold invention, and fertility of resource; science, art, religion, all dressed in their best clothes, and looking very fair and comfortable indeed. On the other hand there is hunger and poverty and degradation, seething discontent and daring impiety and reckless crime prowling like wild beasts outside the circles of respectability, threatening to accomplish their unholy ends by works of violence, hating the light and loving the darkness because their deeds are evil. Every circumstance of daily life becomes a trial of our virtue. The wealth we have, the talents we possess, the station in life we occupy, our knowledge, our leisure, our business capacity are all tests of character whereby we prove to God and man what we are living for — whether we are living all for self and the world, or whether we are living for anything nobler, purer, better. And not only as individuals are we thus tested, but as communities and nations. Our laws and our governments, our inventions, our means of communication, our ships, our railways, our telegraphs — everything by which labour is lessened and wealth increased, every scheme projected for subduing nature and bettering the material condition of mankind — these and the use that we make of them are the things by which we are every day tried and judged, and shall be tried and judged at the last day. In the next place, we must reckon in the category of trials the misfortunes and hard things of life, the disappointments, the losses, the diseases, the sufferings, the thousand ills that natural flesh is heir to — all the things which cause us to have hard thoughts of life, of God, of our brethren. These hard things do not come from chance, nor are they necessarily temptations of the devil. They come to us in the ordinary course of life, as inevitable accidents if you will; but, better still, they are to be regarded as discipline, appointed by the love of a heavenly Father. Now, the effect which sufferings and hardships have upon us depends entirely upon the way in which we receive them. If we yield to them and grumble, they leave us unsoftened and worse than we were before. But if, on the other hand, we bear them patiently, seeing in them the loving hand of an all-wise Benefactor, then they leave us chastened indeed, but purged of earthy dross, with the true gold of our hearts purified and fit for use in the great temple of the Lord. There is still one other class of trials which we must not forget to mention, and these are temptations proper, as we usually understand the word — the actual inducements to sin which surround us and lie in wait for us, and fall upon us to hurt us in the course of our lives. These temptations may be of two kinds. They may be enticements to that which in itself is sinful, as, for instance, when we are tempted in business to dishonesty, or when in intercourse with others we are tempted to falsehood, malice, unrighteous conduct of any kind. On the other hand, the temptations may arise from what is in itself innocent, but which becomes sinful from an improper use of it. Such are the temptations to excess in the use of stimulants; excess in seeking after pleasure which may be mere frivolity or uncleanness; excess in carefulness of worldly things, the covetousness which is idolatry. A very large number of sins which men commit are of this kind. Most men do not seek after what they know to be evil, but they cannot draw the line at moderation. These, too, are trials or tests which show whether or not we can be true and brave for the right and the pure. If we conquer them they are powerless to hurt us, and become instruments for bracing us up and making us stronger than before; if we yield to them they become our tyrants to oppress us with a slavery worse than the bondage of the Israelites in Egypt. What we all need, then, is the Holy Spirit of God ruling within our hearts in love and power, teaching us to refuse the evil and choose the good, making us steadfast to adhere to the right, and causing us to use our time, our talents, our means, our circumstances, both for the strengthening of our own souls and for the furthering of the cause of righteousness among men. Blessed are we if we can do this, and come out of our trials proved and perfected, holding fast at every cost the true and the right. Blessed are we if we have wisdom to consider our wealth and talents as so many gifts to be used for the glory of God and the good of our fellow-men. Blessed are we if we have the courage in all our business dealings to be absolutely honest and just. Blessed are we if we are not only just but pitiful, loving, forgiving, and merciful.

(A. C. Watson, B. D.)

What the function of evil is, and why it is permitted to exist, is a question which has perplexed the minds of men ever since they used discourse of reason. It is, confessedly, the most difficult of questions, and many, perhaps most, of the wise have given it up as, for the present at least, an insoluble problem. But the question, so difficult to us, seems to have presented no difficulty to the practical and an-inquisitive intellect of St. James. According to him, the function of evil is to try men, to test them, to put them to the proof, to show them what they are and what they ought to be. Because trials bring us wisdom, and faith, and patience, we are not to shrink from them, but to glory in them, however trying they may be, and even though they seem to put that which is good in us to jeopardy. In verse 12 the apostle sums up all that he has previously said. As he has mused over his theme his heart has taken fire, and he breaks out into the exclamation, "Happy is the man that endureth temptation!" He has bidden us rejoice when we fall into divers trials; now he pronounces us happy, because we have let patience have her perfect work, because we have sought wisdom of God, because we have risen to an unwavering faith. And, indeed, we may easily see that it is not enough for our welfare that we should simply be exposed to trials, or that we should suffer them. If we are to get the good of them, if they are to refine and complete our character, we must endure them, i.e., as the word implies, we must meet them with a cheerful constancy. I know how hard all this sounds, and is, to the ordinary man. And even if, as yet, we feel that we ourselves cannot endure heavy trials with cheerful fortitude, do we not count those happy who can? do we not wish we were as strong as they? We must admit, then, that St. James is simply uttering an obvious truth when he exclaims, "Happy is the man that endureth trial!" But why is he happy? The apostle hints at one reward in the words, "when he is approved," and distinctly states another reward of constancy in the words, "he shall receive the crown of life." For the phrase, "when he is approved," points to a figure often employed both in the Old and New Testament Scriptures. Both the prophets and the apostles represent God as a refiner, who sits by the furnace, assaying and purifying gold and silver, and who, when He has purged them of their cross, stamps them as true metal of sterling worth. He has proved them, and He approves them. That a man should like trial for its own sake is no more to be expected than we could expect gold, were it rational and sensitive, to like the fire. But even gold, if it were rational as well as sensitive, might well be content to endure the furnace by which its purity and value are enhanced, by which its alloys and defects are searched out and purged away. Nor does St. James demand that we should like trial for its own sake, but for the sake of the happy effects it will produce on us if it be borne with constancy. How happy, then, is the man who endures trial with a cheerful constancy — happy in that his character is at once refined and approved! This twofold reward we might deem sufficient. But God giveth liberally, with a full hand. To the cheerful endurer He is a cheerful Giver. And hence St. James goes on to promise "the crown of life" to as many as endure. But what is this crown of life? It is simply a life victorious and crowned; or, in other words, it is a royal and perfected character. Now I suppose there is no one thing that a thoughtful man, who takes his life earnestly, so much desires, as the reward St. James here promises to those who endure. In every one of us there are two men, two worlds, at strife, each of which gains the upper hand at times, neither of which ceases to struggle for its lost supremacy. It is because of this doubleness of nature, and the incessant strife between them, that we are so restless. What is there that we so heartily crave as the power to rule ourselves, to subdue, pacify, and harmonise the conflicting energies, whose ceaseless strife carries havoc through the soul? St. James tells us how we may attain it. Trials, he says, come for this very end, to make us perfect and complete men. If we endure them with steadfast patience, they will work in us a noble character, a royal dignity; they will put a crown on our heads, the crown of life. And, mark, he is not dealing with mere figures of speech; or, rather, he is dealing with figures of speech, but with figures that accurately express facts which we may all verify for ourselves. The phrase, "when he is approved," points to the figure of the refiner's furnace. But drop the figure, and is it not true that trials, wisely borne, refine and elevate character? Do not those who have patiently endured many sorrows acquire a gentleness, a tenderness, a quick sympathy which, to mere polish of manner, is as tinsel to gold? That other phrase, "the crown of life," is also a figure, which indicates the royalty of character that makes a man lord of himself and equal to any fate. And if, at first, the promise sounds a little extravagant, is it not nevertheless a literal statement of fact? Look around you and mark who are the men of whom you are most sure, whom everybody trusts, to whom all are glad to run for counsel or succour. Are they not those who have been tested by divers kinds of trial, and have borne them with manly resolution and cheerfulness? Are they not those who are known to have long ruled themselves in the fear of God, who have governed their passions and cravings with a firm hand; men who, when need was, have planted themselves against the world, and have overcome it? Ah! happy and blessed men! They have endured temptation, and they are approved by God and man. They have risen to that royal sway over themselves which is the true crown of a true life. The life eternal is theirs, even as they pass through the fleeting and changeful hours of time. Every part of St. James's promise, then, accords with the plain facts of human life. Trials borne with constancy do refine men, do manifestly win for them the approval of God, do give them a royal self-mastery and control. But we must not expect to "receive" this promise until we have fulfilled its condition. The reward of constancy is only for the constant. What is the secret of that constancy of which the reward is so great? The apostle reveals this secret. "The crown of life," he says, is promised "to them that love Him, i.e., to them that love God; or, as we cannot love the Father whom we have not seen without loving the brother whom we have seen, this crown is promised to those who love God and man. Those who endure are those who love.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

Nothing can exceed the diversity which characterises the lot of men in this life. Looking abroad on the surface of human society we behold constant and most wonderful mutations. You do not see around you now such a state of things as you ever expected. Some whom you hoped to see in honour are covered with infamy — others are covered in the dust! There is something unpleasant to such beings as we are, in this fluctuating state. We meet with much to try us. We have disappointments, afflictions, fears, reverses. And there is no course or character that can secure us against disappointment, and the grave of the graceless is dug just beside the grave of the man of God. Let us look beyond these changes. Let us anticipate that state when change shall be no more.

I. TRIALS AND TEMPTATIONS ARE IN THIS LIFE TO BE EXPECTED. From some ardour of temperament, from some vanity of self-esteem, from some inadequate idea of the station in which religion places us in this world, or some inadequate idea of the duties it requires, we are prone to flatter ourselves that we are going to find it not a very difficult thing, and not very severe to the flesh, to preserve the integrity of a Christian's virtue. But this is a dangerous delusion. Rut we do say, that in this life believers should expect temptations, and be on their guard. They will not find it easy to be always faithful to their Master.

1. There is nothing said in the Scriptures which gives us any reason to suppose that it is an easy thing to be faithful Christians. Provision is made for us to vanquish assaults; but the security and peace of heaven do not belong to us here.

2. The express declarations of the Holy Scriptures assure us that believers will, in this life, have very much to tempt and try their fidelity.

3. The character of the believer is such, that it is impossible he should be free from temptation. He is sanctified only in part. Now every feeling and every principle of the believer which are not wholly sanctified, are so many weak points at which he is exposed to injury. More than this, there are so many living, active enemies exerting their energies to drive him into sin. We shall find it difficult to endure. When we little think it, some propensity to evil will solicit gratification. There is almost an infinite variety in those ways in which corruption operates. The heart is the fountain of a thousand streams. One of them turned from its channel will often seek out another, and flow onward with accelerated speed. Another, checked in its course, will often accumulate its energies for a more terrible rush. We ought not to feel secure.

4. Whatever we may hope, there is no situation in this world which places us beyond danger. There are temptations of adversity. There are temptations of prosperity. There are temptations of youth. There are temptations of middle life. There are temptations of old age. How difficult for the man of years to give up the world! There are temptations of health. There are temptations of sickness.

5. If we look at the course in which God has led His own people, we shall find that they have been tried so as by fire. Can we find among the biographies of the saints any one that entered into his rest by a smooth path?

II. NOW THE OBJECT OF ALL THESE IS OUR TRIAL. "When he is tried," is the language of our text. There may be some obscurity lingering around this idea. Certainly our God does not try us for the same purposes that men make trials. He knows perfectly what we are and what we shall do in every situation, and needs not the evidence of a trial to enlighten His knowledge.

1. The trial may be designed for our improvement. Surely, those who have had the most mature fitness for entering into the assembly of the first-born had been indebted for it, under God, to those circumstances of difficulty which "tried men's souls." Grace is a gift, but it is the nature of grace to improve by action. No man can be of strong body whose muscles have not been used to hard work. No mind can attain much vigour without much severe exercise. And the temptation which tries grace may be necessary for that perfection of grace which fits for heaven.

2. The trial may be designed as a proof to the creatures of God.

III. Whatever may be our trials or the design of them, both DUTY AND INTEREST DEMAND OUR UNSHAKEN FIDELITY. God is a righteous rewarder. There is no difficulty or temptation which will excuse us for unfaithfulness. There is no want of gracious resource in God.

IV. What shall we do? WHAT SHALL BE OUR RESOURCE AMID THE TEMPTATIONS THAT BESET US — these outward fightings and inward fears? The text holds up a crown of life upon our view; it points to the promise and speaks of the love of God. Listen to three ideas on this point.

1. You will find but little to fortify your souls by hope against temptation, if you do not look beyond time. Here few joys will you have. Your peace will be often interrupted — your pleasures vanish — and many a poisoned arrow enter into your heart! But there is another and a better world. Look forward to it.

2. And remember the gift is certain. The text mentions a promise. It is the promise of Him who cannot lie. Resort, then, to the promises of God when temptation assails you.

3. But hope and faith need assistance. Things unseen and eternal are not, always, as living realities to such creatures as we. You may muster resolution, array arguments, multiply resolves, and do whatever else you will for your security; but the love of God is worth more than all. Christians often resort to vain contrivances.

(I. S. Spencer, D. D.)

I. THE MAN WHO IS BLESSED. We read in Job, "Behold, happy is the man whom God correcteth." So James says here, "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation." Here we are to understand troubles, afflictions of whatever kind, all that calls for submission, endurance — all that causes pain, anxiety, apprehension. It may be outward in its nature. It may be personal or domestic affliction. It may be disease. It may be poverty with its toils and cares. It may be persecution, with its reproaches, injuries, and penalties. It may be family difficulty, for what crosses arise from heat of temper, perverseness of disposition, incongruity of character, &c.? Or the temptation may be more internal, spiritual in its nature. It may lie in the buffetings of Satan, in seasons of darkness and depression, in peculiar and painful experiences, in terrible fears and fightings within. Every Christian has to pass through the furnace, while in the case of some it is heated seven times, Now mark, the blessed man is he that endureth temptation. The emphasis lies on the endureth. That is equally removed from two extremes (Hebrews 12:5). We are not to manifest a proud, defiant spirit under trial, to summon up resolution and refuse to bend under the blow, to treat it with a stoical indifference. That is not Christianity. We are to give scope to the sensibilities of our nature, within due limits. And it is only thus it can serve the purpose of trial, can prove and improve our graces. We are to see the hand of our heavenly Father in all that befalls us, to recognise ever His power, wisdom, faithfulness, and love, to guard against everything like charging Him foolishly, like questioning either the equity or the goodness of any of His dealings. We are to apply to Him for needful guidance and strength, to repress the risings of impatience, unbelief, self-will, and to fall back ever on the sure promises of His Word and provisions of His covenant. Thus to wait, thus to suffer, and so to have an unquestionable title to the blessing pronounced by the apostle.

II. THE RESPECT IN WHICH HE IS BLESSED. "When he is tried" — that is after he has been thus tested. "He shall receive the crown of life" — shall receive it then, at the last, after the completion of this process of sifting. The reference is to the future inheritance of the saints. It is the prospect of that which makes the believer blessed for ever. It is indicative of spiritual triumph — of the battle fought and the victory won. It is conferred only on him that overcometh. It is also, and in its own nature, a symbol of honour and power. It is the accompaniment and expression of royal dignity and authority. And so it tells us that, whatever the humiliation of the believer here below, whatever the contempt heaped on him, he is to be highly exalted; all reproach is to be wiped away, and as in the case of the Lord Himself, the cross is to be exchanged for the crown. And mark the crown, which elsewhere is described as one of righteousness and of glory, is here spoken of as one of life — that is, it consists in life; it is, as it were, composed of this material. It is here literally and exactly the life — that is to say, the well-known life which is promised to those who fight the good fight of faith, and triumph in the conflict. Here is life worth the having — life most blessed, never-ending, all-perfect — life in comparison with which every other is little better than death. But is the man that endureth perfectly sure of this imperishable crown? Here is his warrant, his guarantee, "which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him." The apostle thus condenses what is spread out at large in many of the exceeding great and precious promises. The believer does not earn the crown by his trials; he does not procure it by means of personal merit. No; the crown is the fruit of the Cross; not any cross borne by us, but that which was endured by the Lord Jesus. All spiritual life is the result and the reward of His atoning death. He alone is worthy; and it is as united to Him by faith that His people are in any sense entitled to the eternal recompense. As it is thus gracious, so the blessedness is not present but future, in respect of its full possession and enjoyment. It is a thing as yet not given, but only promised, so long as the believer is here below. He is here the heir rather than the proprietor, the man of large prospects rather than of large possessions. But the issue is absolutely certain, secured, as it is, by the promise of that God. Not only so, he is favoured with present pledges and earnests of the future glory. In the hope of it he has an element of strength and comfort, by which he is invigorated and gladdened amidst all his struggles and sorrows. On whom is this crown to be bestowed? The question is an important one; and we are not left without a perfectly distinct answer. The Divine Word brings clearly out who may, and who may not, warrantably appropriate the provisions of the covenant, the sure mercies of David. So here the crown is said to be promised "to them that love Him," that is, to those who thus prove themselves the Lord's people. Their love does not constitute their title to it, but it establishes and manifests that title (see John 14:21; Matthew 10:37; 1 Corinthians 16:22; Romans 8:28; James 2:5). And this statement serves to bring out the only true spring and the only scriptural kind of endurance. The source of it is love to God and His Son Jesus Christ. It is this which sweetens the most bitter cup, and cases the heaviest burden. It keeps down dark suspicions and rebellious murmurs. It enables us to take a right view of the gracious design of the Divine dealings, and to kiss the rod which is seen to be held in a Father's hand, and used not for His pleasure, but solely for our profit. It changes the whole aspect of Providence, and imparts a peace and a strength which sustain under the severest temptations or trials. And any constancy, perseverance, which has not this element in it, yea, which is not rooted in it, is not Christian and cannot be crowned with the life everlasting.

(John Adam.)

I. WHAT IS MEANT BY THE TERMS TRIAL AND PROBATION.

1. The power and opportunity — the danger of proving unfaithful, and of incurring the final displeasure of our Maker and Judge.

2. The power and opportunity of doing right; the blessed possibility of answering the purpose of our being; of proving obedient and faithful, and of our so doing this, as to secure at last, the approbation of our Almighty Judge.

II. OUR PRESENT EXISTENCE IS PROBATIONARY.

III. IT IS GOD HIMSELF WHO PROPORTIONS AND REGULATES THE TRIAL THROUGH WHICH WE HAVE TO PASS. He is too just, too wise, to appoint a trial low and inadequate; and too good to appoint one more severe than the strength He has imparted can sustain.

IV. EVERY AGE, EVERY SITUATION IN LIFE, IS A STATE OF TRIAL; it therefore behoves us to be on our guard against that particular danger to which our particular situation exposes us.

V. IT WILL BE OUR WISDOM NOT TO MURMUR AT THAT PARTICULAR KIND OF TRIAL TO WHICH WE ARE SUBJECTED, but to endure its severity and avoid its danger.

VI. THE PERIOD OF OUR PROBATION WILL CONTINUE NO LONGER THAN IS STRICTLY NECESSARY.

VII. A GREAT AND GLORIOUS REWARD is promised to the man who is faithful to his trial. Such a crown as is worn by those who are kings and priests to God; a crown that shall shine with undiminished splendours, when the light of the sun is extinguished, and the stars shall glitter no morel

(James Bromley.)

I. Let us inquire into THE ORIGIN OF TEMPTATION. HOW does temptation arise? Temptation, one of the darkest facts of human life, arises, strange to say, from two sources which are man's peculiar heritage and glory — his moral nature and his moral perfectibility. We can be tempted because we know right from wrong; because right carries with it a feeling in ourselves of obligation to do it; and because with this feeling come into frequent conflict inducements to do the wrong. We can be tempted because the vision of the ideal opens itself out to our inward eye; because we are conscious of the possibility of better things; and because the sluggishness of the natural man prompts us to remain content with present attainments, and represents to us the arduous effort that is necessary if we would reach the things that lie beyond. Let us look at these two points with a somewhat closer attention. We of all creatures on the earth are the sole possessors of what deserves to be called a moral nature. We are sensible that we ought to do this and ought not to do that, that we owe the doing and the not doing to our own life and well-being and to the life and well-being of mankind. The highest moral natures among men are such as feel most strongly that, to use the weighty words of Ruskin, "a duty missed is the worst of loss." But here, as I say, in this moral nature of ours, and in the feeling of duty that has its seat in it, is found one of the two sources whence temptation arises. God, speaking to us through the universe in which we live, through the age-long experience of the human generations of the past, has set before us the acts that lead to life and blessing, and the acts that lead to death and the curse. But again and again we choose death instead of life. Again and again, under the thoughtless impulse of the moment, we prefer the present to the future, immediate gratification to lasting good; the pretty flower that we know will wither in our hand to the seed which, if only we wait for it, will live again. In a word, we know our duty, and yield to the temptation to refuse to do it. In these temptations to neglect of duty lies the virtue that there is in doing it; and from the feeling of duty implied in our moral nature these temptations come. Furthermore, the second source of temptation is, as I have said, the perfectibility, the capacity for increasing progress, of the mortal nature of man. For you must bear in mind that the present is the child of the past, and accordingly has upon it the marks of its parentage. Everybody knows how much in common man has with the animals beneath him. His physical frame is fashioned after a pattern in many respects similar to theirs. In the same way, the spiritual elements in him have not yet shaken themselves free from the elements pertaining to his animal life. Greed, passion, appetite, the instinct that prompts him to pursue his own happiness without any regard to the good of others; self considered, not as related to society, but as independent of, even if not opposed to it — these characteristics of the lower nature from which the higher has developed, still remain. In the best men they are faint and weak; in the worst men they are pronounced and strong; in all men, except Him who is the Ideal Man — Jesus Christ — something of them still appears. Hence temptation arises — the temptation to sink back again into the brute instead of going on and ever on to the likeness of the Son of God. To proceed. We have sought, in the first place, to answer the question, How does temptation arise?

II. We will now, in the second place, endeavour to answer the question, WHAT IS ITS END? For let us be well assured that no fact of the universe is there as a thing of chance. It has its function in the vast cosmic machinery that is working out the final purposes of God. Sable though its livery may be, still it is a servant in the Divine household. Question it with meekness and reverence, and you will find it not without an answer. It seems, then, that the end of temptation is threefold.

1. First of all, it is an education in self-knowledge. We find out our weak points, we learn where we are strongest, we get to know what we possess of moral resource, we discover where we stand in the upward path. Our Father in heaven sets us in the world of temptation that we may come to know what we are. The knowledge is beyond price, for through self-knowledge, wisely used, comes self-conquest.

2. Then, in the second place, it is through temptation that there arises the strengthening of the moral nature, Mere innocence is not the highest moral state; and innocence does not grow into virtue until it has been exposed to temptation, and the right has been voluntarily chosen, and the wrong voluntarily eschewed. Go to the shed where a potter is working. See around him the products of his art. They are beautiful in form, in design. But take one into your hand. Ah! you have marred it; its shape is spoiled. The clay was soft. It has as readily taken the impress of your unskilled touch as it took the impress of the potter's skilful hand. Why? Because it has not yet been put in the fire to have its beauty made permanent. Similar is it with the soul. We should not have been even what we are, if we had not been tempted, and largely by the same means shall we come to be what we hope — souls perfected in goodness, possessors of a will whose currents, deep and strong, flow ever toward the right.

3. We come to the end of temptation — the creation of sympathy between man and man. Self-knowledge is good; moral strength is better; sympathy is best of all. And it is through similarity of experience that sympathy between man and man is produced. It counts for next to nothing that my neighbour sins in different ways from me. We both sin — that is the central fact. What I may feel with regard to his sin and its consequences is a different matter. They deserve denunciation, but he sympathy. Am I without a stain to cast stones at him? All, no! the Holiest this earth has seen was the friend of publicans and sinners. Like Him, I should sympathise with my sinful brethren; like Him, myself having suffered being tempted and suffering it every day I live, I should seek, by the power of sympathy, so sweetly strong, to succour them that are tempted.

(H. Farley, B. A.)

The text is a Beatitude. It begins with blessed. We should all like to be blessed. What a more than golden word that "blessed" is! It begins the Psalms of David: there is sweetest poetry in it. It begins the sermon of the Son of David; it is the end of all holy teaching. "Happiness" is the earthly word; "blessedness" is the heavenly one. There are such persons as blessed men, or the eminently practical James would not have written concerning them. It is true the curse has fallen on the world, and man is born to endure toil and suffering in tilling a thorn-bearing earth, and earning his bread with the sweat of his face; but for all that, there are blessed men — men so blessed that the wilderness and the solitary place are glad for them, and by their presence the desert is made to rejoice and blossom as the rose. Great mistakes are made as to the persons who are happy and blessed. Some suppose that the wealthy must be blessed; but if their lives were written, it could be proved to a demonstration that some of those who have had the largest possessions have had the very least of blessedness, especially when those possessions have brought with them the curses of the oppressed and the wailings of the down-trodden. No, look not in gold mines for blessedness, for it gleams not among the nuggets. It cannot be gotten for all the treasures of the miser, or the wealth of nations. But, surely, it is to be found in positions of eminence and power. These are greatly coveted, and men will sell their souls to win them; but I suppose from what I have read of history that if I were to select the most unhappy set of men beneath the vault of heaven one would only have to select statesmen emperors, and kings. Not the high but the holy are blessed; not those who sit with the great, but those who serve with the good are marked out of the Lord as blessed. Nobler natures feel no greed for gold, and pine for no distinction of rank; but they count those blessed who know, and are stored with wisdom. But is it so? Doth he that increaseth knowledge increase joy? Doth he not the rather add to his sorrow? If knowledge were bliss the devil would be in heaven. But some think that surely blessedness may be had by a combination of dignity and wisdom and riches. Put these together, and a man might surely be blessed. And yet it does not seem to be so. I should think that no mortal that ever lived had finer opportunities than Solomon. He cast everything into the crucible, and he brought out of it, not gold, but ashes. "Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher; all is vanity." No, you cannot find blessedness on a throne nor in making many books, nor in seeking out many inventions, nor in enjoying all luxuries. These things all cry, "It is not in me." If you want blessedness, hear him speak who knows. That is, hear the Holy Ghost speak by the mouth of His servant James: "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation."

I. Let us behold my. BLESSED IN THIS LIFE. "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation." It does seem very startling at first sight that the blessed man should be described in this way. Notice, it does not say, "Blessed is the man that is tempted," nor "Blessed is the man that is beset by temptation." No. "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation." That is to say, the man who bears up under it, survives it, is not led. aside by it, but endures it as gold endures the fire. You need to have a religion which is tested every day in the week, and which stands you in good stead because it can endure the test. You are blessed if you have a religion which God gives, which God tries, which God sustains, which God accepts. As an uncultivated garden is no garden, so untried godliness is no godliness. A faith that will not bear strain and test is no faith. A love that cannot endure temptation is no love to God at all. The men who bear affliction in a gracious manner, these are the blessed people, for they have a patience that has been tested, a faith that has passed the ordeal, a love that has been more than a conqueror in trial. These according to our text are the blessed people.

1. And they are blessed among other things for this reason: because they have endured temptation through their love to God. To cease from evil ways because the Lord Jesus Christ has loved you and given Himself for you, and you have been led to put your sole trust in the merit of His precious blood — this is a genuine work of grace.

2. Then there arises out of the endurance of temptation a sense of God's acceptance. The text saith, "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation, for when he is approved": that is the new version, and a very correct one, too. Not so much when he is tried, but when he has been tried — when he has been put into the fitting pot, and has come out warranted to be real unalloyed gold; when he is proved, and therefore approved, then he shall receive the crown of life." After the tried man has stood against temptation, God says of him, "Now I know that thou fearest Me," as He said concerning Abraham after He had tried him. "Now I know that thou fearest God," This approval of God breeds a holy delight in the soul.

3. There comes over the back Of this a number of things to help to make such a man blessed: for he has great thankfulness in his soul. You remember Bunyan's description of the feelings of Christian when he had passed through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and was able to look back by the intoning light. tie was struck with awe to think that he had ever passed through such a war as that, with an abyss on one side and. a quagmire on the ether. The road was haunted with sprites and hobgoblins, and beset with traps and gins and snares beyond all count; and yet he had actually come through that way in safety. When he saw what he had escaped, what could he do but down on his knees and bless God with all his heart that he had been protected through so great a peril? It helps to make a man blessed when his mind is filled with holy gratitude to God who has preserved him.

4. Besides, another feeling comes over him — that of deep humility. "Oh," says he, "what a wonder of grace I am! However is it that I have escaped such peril? With such a base nature as mine, how have I been kept from destruction? I shall to-morrow perish and fall unless the Lord Himself be still my helper." Putting his trust in God, that sense of his own nothingness, accompanied with a sense of his perfect security in God, makes him feel exceedingly happy.

5. And, once more, he enjoys a fearlessness of heart. The forked tongue of slander has no power with him: he has an antidote against the venom of malice. The noise and strife of this world can little distress him, for innocence walls him up against the onslaught of the enemy. He stands like a rock in the midst of the raging billows, for God has given him steadfastness of soul; and is not that blessedness?

II. WHAT THE BLESSED MAN IS TO BE BY AND BY.

1. He shall receive a crown. That crown which is promised us is not for talk, nor thought, nor vow, but it records something done. It was something appreciated-appreciated by Him that gave the crown. It will be no small heaven for God Himself to appreciate our poor lives 1 It is our blessedness both now and for ever to be accepted in Christ Jesus. A crown meant reward. Now, in the gospel system there is room for a reward, though it is not of debt, but of grace. The child of God, like Moses, has "respect unto the recompense of the reward." He does not run to win a crown by his own merit, but he runs knowing that there will be a crown given to him according to the love and goodness of the God of grace.

2. Now go an inch farther in the text: "A crown of life." What must that be! What is life? To live means to be in health, to be in force, in joy, in fit condition, to have one's whole self in order, and to enjoy all that surrounds you with all that is within you. God will give to all His people by and by such a crown of life. There shall be no sickness, no weakness, no dulness, no emptiness, no sense of depletion, nor of want; we shall be for ever filled with all the fulness of God. There shall be no pain, no misery, but a plenitude of enjoyment at His right hand where there are pleasures for evermore. We shall possess and enjoy all that manhood can desire. Life shall crown all. All your life shall be crowned; and all the crown shall be life! "A crown of life." Does it not mean, however, as well a living crown? The crown they gave in the Olympic games soon faded. That bit of parsley, or olive, or laurel, was soon turned into faded leaves. But you shall have a living crown; that is to say, it shall never be taken from you, nor you from it. When yon sun grows pale with weariness; when his bright eye grows dim with age; when yonder moon shall redden into blood as her brightness is o'ershaded, then shall your crown be as resplendent as ever. Did you ever try to indulge a speculation as to what the crown of life shall be? I mean this: You have a bulb in your hand of an unknown plant. I have had several lately from Central Africa. The missionary said, "Put it in your stove-house"; and I did. It did not look to me worth a half a farthing; it was an uncomely root. But it bus developed large green leaves; it is growing rapidly; and "it doth not yet appear what it shall be." I am speculating upon the colour of the flowers, and the form of the fruit. I guess by the delicate velvetness of its leaves that it is going to turn out something very remarkable; but I cannot prophesy what it will be. Man by nature is that uncomely bulb. When he dies, you know what a poor dried-up bulb he seems to those who lay him in his coffin. Yet even here, when God gives spiritual life, what a beautiful thing the Christian is! There is an amazing comeliness about the heavenly life even here below; yet we do not know what it is going to be. We know what spiritual life is, but we cannot guess what the flower of that life will be. Whatever it is to be, God will give that glory to those who by His grace endure temptation because they love Him. You gentlemen who believe in evolution, as I do not, tell us what a man will come to when God has sanctified him fully by His grace, and He has passed through ages of blessedness. What will he be when his life develops into the crown of life? We make poor guess-work of it. But I will tell you what I mean to do. I pray you follow me therein. I mean to go and see what this crown of life is like. We do not know what we shall be, but we have heard a soft whisper say, "When He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is."

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

We pray that we may not be led into temptation; and in using that prayer we acknowledge that it is an imperative duty not to go into temptation. And our Lord speaks more strongly of avoiding temptation than of almost any other duty, bidding us even cut off the right hand or pluck out the right eye, if the right hand or the right eye have proved a temptation. And our own experience agrees with this; and in too many instances where we have fallen, we are compelled to confess that we might have avoided the fall by avoiding the temptation. But still temptations are not scattered all about us without a purpose. As far as we can see, it is by temptations that we are educated. I do not mean that God could not educate us in any other way if He thought fit to do so; nor even that He does not educate some men altogether, and all men, in some degree, without temptations. But the exceptions are not to the point. If two men hold precisely the same principles, and mean to act in precisely the same way, and if one has been tempted to forsake those principles, and has withstood the temptation, and the other has never been tempted at all, then the principles and character of the two are in reality quite different. I do not mean merely that you do not yet know whether the untempted man is thoroughly sincere or not. I mean more than that. I mean that the passage through temptation actually makes a change in the man. The very same principles which he held before he was tempted he may, to all appearance, hold still; but though they are the same in form, and if you were to put them into words, you would have to put them into the same words, they are not the same in reality. The passage through the fire of temptation has ennobled — has sanctified them. Of course it will be inevitable, if we are to be disciplined by temptation, that we shall sometimes fall. How often, must depend on the energy with which we fight. But what is the use of seeking palliations? Seek as we may, the fact remains that here was the means provided by the Providence of God for disciplining our souls; and, instead of using it as we ought, we have made it an occasion for doing ourselves harm. What is the use of thinking what we might have done if we had not been tempted? It is silly for a man to talk to his own heart in a tone which implies that he could have contrived a better arrangement of the circumstances of his own life; and that if he were left to arrange his own trials and his own temptations he could give himself a proper discipline without the same dangers. We must take the circumstances of our lives as we find them, and make the best use of them. And if we have failed to make the best use of them, we must still learn not to lay the fault on them; for whatever they were, we might as well have done the best that could be done. Even after you have fallen you may still make a better use of the temptation than trying to lay the fault upon it. You may seek out how far you can avoid it, and take care to do so. Why, it there were no danger where would be the soldier's honour or reward? where would be his means of proving his devotion to his duty? why should he even exist? And so too, without temptation, where would be the Christian's crown? or why should we be Christians at all? A general does not send a soldier whom he cannot trust into a service of difficulty. Neither does Christ employ servants whom He does not love on difficult acts of obedience. On the other hand, it is very important to notice that it is not every apparent victory over temptation that is a real victory. There are two ways of resisting and overcoming temptation. You may turn away from the tempter with a cheerful, resolute will, heartily throwing yourself into your duty, endeavouring to find there, not your duty only, but your happiness also, turning out of your head cheerfully but resolutely even the thought which hankers after what is wrong. Or you may resist the temptation, and even overcome it, with anger at your heart, and an eager longing for the forbidden pleasure still ruling your soul; with eyes looking back to what you are quitting, with discontent at the hard duty which has divided you from your wish, with secret complaining and bitterness at the hardness of your trials. Now this last way of overcoming temptation is not that which St. James declares to be blessed. The type of the character is Balaam, the wicked prophet. He obeyed; exactly obeyed what he was plainly commanded. But it is clear as day that his obedience was merely outward. He did not surrender himself heart and soul to the command. Was he much benefited by having overcome the temptation of Balak's offers? Or was he not rather hardened in a subtler but wickeder sinfulness? Yet this kind of victory is by no means uncommon. You are, for instance, plainly called to do some act of unselfishness. Your conscience points out to you that here is an occasion for self-sacrifice; perhaps not only points out that here is an occasion, but that hero is a distinct call which you cannot rightly turn away from. You are too conscientious not to listen to the call. You sacrifice your own wish to the wish, the pleasure, the feelings of others. But in what spirit? How very natural is it to indemnify one's self, as it were, by cherishing an angry discontent at having been called on to make such a sacrifice; perhaps to despise the one who has benefited by it, even though he is not in the least degree conscious of the benefit; perhaps to long for some happy, turn of accident that shall make the sacrifice unnecessary, and give one the double satisfaction both of enjoying one's wishes and of having sacrificed them; perhaps to brood over it often afterwards, and complain of one's lot, or even of life altogether, so full as it is of hardships like these. How can we expect that unselfishness like this will strengthen the character, will bring us nearer to God. But the same issue is also possible in fighting with other temptations — temptations to vanity, frivolity, idleness; to indulgence of bodily appetite; to pride; to love of power; to wrong ambition, may be resisted, and may be overcome; and yet he that, overcometh may not be blessed, because he has not overcome the inward enemy but only the outward. The evil spirit may have been driven out, and vet may have left behind him a spirit of discontent to keep his place; and that spirit, if left unmolested, shall do as much harm as the spirit that has been expelled. To overcome temptation, not in outer act merely, but with heart and soul, that is what wins the crown of life; the crown emphatically of life, for he who has passed through temptations victorious, he it is who emphatically lives. He has in him the richness of his own experience. He is not using words without meaning, or words with a vague, hazy, indistinct idea, when he speaks of the battle of the Christian,. or of the help of his Redeemer. His principles are not mere sentiments, but living powers, whose strength has been tried and proved. His doctrines are not mere forms of speech; they correspond with needs of his soul, which he has probed to the bottom in the hour of difficulty. The Bible is not to him a beautiful and awful book, full of wonderful promises which sound like words in a foreign tongue, full of awful threatenings which seem too fearful to be literally true; but a record of realities into which he has himself entered, a world of spirits where he can find his own place, see his own work, obtain his own helps. This is the crown which buds here and blossoms hereafter, and fills all the soul on which it falls with the power of its beauty; and this crown is given to him who, when temptations come, gives himself mind and soul, and will and heart, to fulfil the law of Christ.

(Bp. Temple.)

1. Afflictions do not make the people of God miserable. There is a great deal of difference between a Christian and a man of the world: his best estate is vanity (Psalm 39:5); and a Christian's worst is happiness.(1) Afflictions cannot diminish his happiness. In the greatest want of earthly things there is happiness, and comfort enough in a covenant-interest.(2) Sometimes afflictions increase their happiness, as they occasion more comfort and further experience of grace: God seldom afflicted in vain. They that count God their chiefest good know no other evil but the darkening of His countenance; in all other cases, "Blessed is he that endureth": they lose nothing by affliction but their sins.

2. Of all afflictions those are sweetest which we endure for Christ's sake.(1) That it be for Christ.(2) That your heart be right for Christ. The form of religion may many times draw a persecution upon itself, as well as the power; the world hateth both, though the form less. Oh! how sad is it that a man cometh to suffer, and he hath nothing to bear him out but an empty form.

3. Before crowning there must he a trial. The trial doth not merit heaven, but always goeth before it. Before we are brought to glory, God will first wean us from sin and the world, which the apostle calleth a being "made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light" (Colossians 1:12). He that passeth his life without trial knoweth not himself, nor hath opportunity to discover his uprightness.

4. It is good to oppose the glory of our hopes against the abasure of our sufferings. Here are trials, but we look for a crown of glory.

5. No enduring is acceptable to God but such as doth arise from love. The victory is less over outward inconveniences than inward lusts; for these, being more rooted in our nature, are more hardly overcome.

(T. Manton.)

I. BLESSED IS THE MAN THAT ENDURETH TEMPTATION! The same word means both trial and temptation. And it is not at all surprising that there should be but one expression for these two things, because though the things seem to be different, yet the difference is more in appearance than in reality. At all events, they generally accompany each other: trials, very commonly, prove temptations to sin; and temptations, when rightly viewed, are the very heaviest of all trials. The temptations, however, of which St. James is speaking were what we more usually denominate trials. They were the outward troubles and persecutions attending a Christian life in his days. Persecution became a temptation to the man to go back, to give up his Christian profession, and return to the world. I might specify many other things which are felt to be trials, and which actually are temptations. But these are sufficient to show how extensively the language of St. James may be applied. Let us, then, apply it to ourselves. Blessed is the man that endureth temptation! But let us come more particularly to religious trials. Every man among you knows, in his conscience, that he ought to seek, above all things, the salvation of his soul. You feel convinced, whenever you think upon these subjects, that it is your duty to repent, to believe in Christ Jesus, to lead a holy life, and to separate yourself, so far as may be practicable, from worldly and irreligious companions. But there are many difficulties attending such a course of life. Still, however, you know that these difficulties do not alter the real state of the case. They may tempt you to disregard religion.

II. THE CROWN OF LIFE WHICH IS HERE HELD FORTH TO THE MAN THAT ENDURETH TEMPTATION HAD BEEN PREVIOUSLY PROMISED, IT SHOULD SEEM, TO THEIR THAT LOVE THE LORD. This is, in fact, but another expression describing the same characters. It will supply us, however, with further materials for examining whether we ourselves are of the happy number. Do we, then, love the Lord? Surely, if such be really our character, there will be some clear manifest tokens of this Divine affection visible in our conduct. Love is a feeling which cannot dwell in the heart without producing a perceptible influence upon a man's whole behaviour towards the person whom he loves. On this part of my subject let me give you one necessary caution. God must be loved according to His real character, and not according to any imaginary character which, in our ignorance, we may think fit to ascribe to Him. He must be loved as a God that hateth all sin, and as a God who has given His only Son to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. Some think Him "a God all mercy" — too kind to punish a single sin.

(J. Jowett, M. A.)

The hardy fir-tree that stands the bitter blast on some mountain side is a nobler object than the delicate hot-house exotic.

(J. W. Hardman, LL. D.)

It is recorded of the great soldier, the gallant Moutrose, that, finding his followers ill provided with armour, he stripped off breast-plate and steel cap, with his stout leathern coat, and rode into battle in his bared shirt sleeves, at the head of his men, to show them that he scorned to use defences which they could not avail of. Even so our Great Captain laid aside the panoply of heaven, and as a man entered into the conflict.

(J. W. Hardman, LL. D.)

There is said to be at Birmingham a department where every rifle is tested before it is sent out. At Greenwich Observatory there is a room where the multitude of ships' chronometers are daily corrected and observed, until, being fully tested, they are sent forth as of value and satisfactory usefulness.

(J. W. Hardman, LL. D.)

When Napoleon felt that the crisis had come at Waterloo, when the fate of the battle might be decided by one great effort, he ordered the Old Guard to advance, the tried veterans who had followed his eagles from the Nile to the walls of Moscow, and on whose courage and steadiness he could rely to the utmost.

(J. W. Hardman, LL. D.)

At Trafalgar, Nelson ordered the flag of England to be nailed to the mast of his ship, so that it was not possible for it to be hauled down. Such should be the firm resolve of the Christian, as he reflects on the threefold array — the ranks of the world, the flesh, and the devil — drawn up against him.

(J. W. Hardman, LL. D.)

There are four possible experiences in regard to the trials of life.

1. They may fail of that which may be their best result. We may have the troubles of life — indeed, we must have them — and yet we may fail of the discipline.

2. They may be made seductions to evil, and yielded to.

3. They may be suffered just as brutes suffer pain.

4. They may be "endured." Blessed is the man who has this last experience, who accepts the troubles of life as trims, who endures them, going on his way of duty as speedily in the storm as in the sunshine, obeying the injunction, "Let those who weep be as though they wept not." These are the blessed ones. There is no blessing for the untried man, as there is no currency for the unstamped bullion — for the metal, however precious, which is not marked so as to show that is has been tested and is now approved. There is no blessing for the man who yields to temptation or fails under trial. There is no blessing to him who has brutal insensibility to the pains of trial, or unconsciousness of the process, as the anvil is unconscious of the blows of the hammer. But there is a blessing for the man who knows what is going for. ward; who understands the intent, and appreciates the object, and desires the result of the process. For when he has become approved, after the testing and by reason of the testing, "he shall receive the crown of life."

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

I find it most true that the greatest temptation out of hell is to live without temptations; if any waters could stand they would rot; Faith is the better for the free air and the sharp winter storm in its face; grace withereth without adversity. The devil is but God's master-fencer, to teach us to handle our weapons.

(S. Rutherford.)

Let no man think himself to be holy because he is not tempted, for the holiest and highest in life have the most temptations. How much the higher a hill is, so much is the wind there greater; so, how much higher the life is, so much stronger is the temptation of the enemy.

( Wycliffe.)

No chain is stronger than its weakest link; no boiler is stronger than its weakest plate; no character is stronger than its weakest point.

(F. M. Miller.)

At certain seasons the authorities at the mint go through a certain ceremony, which is to ascertain if the coin issued is true and genuine. So does God try us, to prove whether we be sterling metal, bearing His image and superscription, or base metal of the devil's coining. We have all read how they try the great guns before they use them in the Queen's service. So God tries us, to prove whether we are fit for the service of Christ's militant here on earth. As the brightest jewels have to be cut and ground, and some tried in a fierce fire, so the brightest gems, on the day when God makes up His jewels, will be those people who have suffered, and passed through the fire of affliction, of whom it can be said, "blessed is the man that endureth temptation."

(H. J. Wilmot Buxton, M. A.)

The wandering Hindoo's pipe, that draws the serpents out of their holes, did not put them there, neither do the temptations which draw out the evil of the heart put the evil there, but only show it. Christ's scrip, with His own and His disciples' little store, did not make Judas the thief he was. It was his lust, his love of money, that made him gladly undertake the trust which, if he had known his own leanings, he would have declined. It was his covetousness, his love of money, which "is the root of all evil," that led him to pilfer from his Master's store. It was his "lust" that made him indignant that that large sum should be lavished on Christ's person, which he said would have been better spent upon the poor, but which he meant would have been better than either in his own hands.

(W. W. Champneys, M. A.)

A smooth sea never made a skilful mariner; neither do uninterrupted prosperity and success qualify for usefulness and happiness. The storms of adversity, like those of the ocean, rouse the faculties, and excite the inventions, prudence, skill, and fortitude of the voyager. The martyrs of ancient times, in bracing their minds to outward calamities, acquired a loftiness of purpose and moral heroism worth a lifetime of softness and security.

Afflictions are God's most effectual means to keep us from losing our way to our heavenly rest. Without this hedge of thorns on the right and left we should hardly keep the way to heaven. If there be but one gap open, how ready are we to find it and turn out at it! When we grow wanton, or worldly, or proud, how doth sickness or other affliction reduce us? Every Christian as well as Luther, may call affliction one of his best schoolmasters, and with David may say, "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now have I kept Thy word." Many thousand recovered sinners may cry, O healthful sickness! O comfortable sorrows! O gainful hope! O enriching poverty! O blessed day that ever I was afflicted! Not only the green pastures and still waters, but the rod and staff, they comfort us. Though the Word and Spirit do the main work, yet suffering so unbolts the door of the heart that the Word hath easier entrance.

(R. Baxter.)

After a forest fire has raged furiously, it has been found that many pine-cones have had their seeds released by the heat, which ordinarily would have remained unsown. The future forest sprang from the ashes of the former. Some Christian graces, such as humility, patience, sympathy, have been evolved from the sufferings of the saints. The furnace has been used to fructify.

I. Temptation, a testing, As INEVITABLE EXPERIENCE, a necessity of our condition. Needful to prove us, and develop strength and symmetry of character. Teaches us to feel for others.

II. Temptation to be STEADFASTLY ENDURED TILL CONQUERED. Yielding is weakening. Love endures, God's grace sustains.

III. CROWNING OF THE CONQUERER. Not of merit, but grace.

(J. M. Sherwood, D. D.)

I. First of all, we shall take a view of THE TRIED BELIEVER, because he belongs to a very large class of God's family. The buffetings of Satan. What a mercy it is that all he can do is to buffet us. He has buffeted me about my belief. Ah, they are high doctrines, and crude notions. Then he will buffet the Church of God about their birthright. Ah, it is all presumption, he will tell you. How do you know that you are born of God? Go on to the blessings. Satan will buffet us about them. The promises, the spirit of adoption, the joys of God's salvation. Very precious all these; but has the devil never said to you, "These are only the movings of the natural passions"? Now I pass on from these things, though I might write a volume upon them, and look, under the term "tempted," at life's calamities, and exercises, and cares. But just go on to mark the exercise of experimental conflicts. I presume my hearers are fully aware that every corruption belonging to the old Adam nature is at war with, and will be at war with, every grace of the Holy Spirit. Now for the sustaining power by which we endure. Why have not you and I made shipwreck of faith? We would have done so long ago but for that sustaining power of which the Lord spake by the prophet, "Fear not, for when thou passeth through the fire, I wilt be with thee, and the flames shall not kindle upon thee; and through the floods, they shall not overflow thee, I will uphold thee, I will sustain thee with the right hand of My righteousness." "Blessed is the man that endureth," — patiently, with resignation, I may add with satisfaction. To endure with patience. "It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth Him good." To endure with resignation. "Good is the word of the Lord concerning me." To endure with anticipation. "When He has tried me, I shall come forth like gold." This is what I call enduring; not merely bearing because I must bear, and cannot help myself, but approving the will of God; and the point I want to reach is that which I last named — satisfaction. My faith has got it, but my feelings have not,. Well, then, I want to endure so as to suck some honey out, as Samson did.

II. Now about THE HIGH ATTAINMENT. "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation; for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him." With regard to the word "tried," I take a different view of it altogether to that which we have just indulged in with regard to temptation. I understood it in the very same way that I understand that portion of Scripture in which it is said, "It came to pass that the Lord tempted Abraham when he was tried"; and if you read the sequel, you can come to no other conclusion than that it means that He put his graces to the test; and I believe that all our temptations, all our trials, are intended for this very purpose, that the Spirit's graces may be put to the test as to whether they are genuine. You must be aware that there is much among professing multitudes in our day that is spurious. Well, now, how shall we know whether they are genuine or spurious? "When he is tried." There is a blessedness in this. The devil may take his bellows, and blow the fire, and bring his fuel, and ply his temptations — there is faith in lively exercise. "He is my Lord and my God." There is hope entering into that within the veil — there is love glowing, so that the very mention of the name of Jesus, so dear to me, brought a flood of tears of delight. So of all the other graces. I tell you, it is in this way that the believer is blessed as well as tried. His graces are tried, to see whether they are genuine; and if they are proved to be so, they will endure, they will shine brighter, after all they have been called to experience. Then mark the establishment, the establishment of the soul in every feature of vital godliness. That is true blessedness. I suppose you have read that sweet Scripture of the apostle, "It is a good thing that the heart be established with grace, and not with meats." Now I meet with but few established Christians. "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation." If temptations kill his religion, the sooner it is killed the better, but if his religion endure the temptation he shall get the blessedness, and stand fast in the Lord, in the power of His might. O how precious is Christ to such a soul! A. word more here. The Divine glory is and must be thus promoted. Referring again to be good old patriarch, it is written, that he was "strong in faith, giving glory to God."

III. Now ABOUT THE END. "When he is tried he shall receive the crown of life." "The crown of life." There are many crowns spoken of in the Scripture. The Church in the Apocalypse is exhorted to hold fast that which she had, that no man "take her crown" — her crown of distinction, and dignity, and attainment. Our Lord Himself was seen wearing many crowns — but these are not to our point. Then again He was crowned with thorns. What a mercy that you and I can never be crowned with them. He may mean that life which is manifested in this world first of all — and there is a crown — for if spiritual life be uppermost, and Divine life the life of God in the soul, it contains the idea of reigning — a crown — "The crown of life." A man may have mental life, but it is not worth calling a crown. He may be crowned in some attainments with honours, literary honours, and the like, but to have a crown of life is to have a life that is supernatural, the life of God in the soul — life that cannot live on earth without visiting heaven every day — a life that shall last for ever — a life that lives upon spiritual and eternal realities — a life of a dignified description. But I apprehend the precise meaning to be the crown of eternity which the apostle elsewhere calls a crown of glory. It cannot be withheld. What is that poor tired soul, tempted, harassed, ready to die in this wilderness journey to be crowned? Ah! but he must strive first, and he must strive lawfully. Just mark further here, that this crown is appointed and said in my text to be given. And who is it to be given by? "The Lord." The Lord hath promised it. He never promises without giving — His promises and performances are always inseparable, But do just mark the naming of the recipients — "Them that love Him." It is not to them that hate Him — it is "to them that love Him." It is not to them that care nothing about Him — not to them that are strangers to Him — it is "to them that love Him." Ask then the question, Do I really love the Lord — love Him so as to take Him at His word — love Him so as to delight in no company like His — love Him so as to cleave to Him with purpose of heart — love Him so as to lay out my life to honour, and exalt, and glorify Him.

(J. Irons.)

We always associate with the term "crown" the idea of living in power, affluence, honour, and glory. But such a life, the reward of the tried sufferer, does it lie on this or the other side of death? My friends, from fuels which fall under our own observation, we learn, that as it seldom goes well with the ungodly to the end of his days, but punishment seizes him even here below, so the afflictions of the righteous often reach their termination on earth, and he receives a partial recompense for the sufferings he his undergone in earthly prosperity. But will such instances authorise us to say that he who has been proved in tribulation, who has kept the faith, and exercised patience under the chastening hand of God, will be certainly recompensed by a day of sunshine and prosperity, and at last succeed in his wishes and undertakings, and that this will form "the crown of life" of which our text speaks? God has not promised the reward of earthly prosperity to those who love Him, nor do the Scriptures term it a crown of life. Must we then say that it is delayed till after the death of the Christian sufferer or conqueror? It is true that St. Paul says, (2 Timothy 4:7, 8). But he had referred just before, in explicit terms, to his approaching death. "The time of my departure is at hand"; and thus the crown of righteousness was his consolation, when he had nothing more to expect in and from this earthly life. Yet do not the beatitudes at the beginning of our Lord's Sermon on the Mount relate to the present life? and does not St. Paul declare "godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come?" "He that believeth on the Son of God hath everlasting life." Yes, such is the fact. Have we learned in our humiliation to glory in our exaltation, and in our exaltation to glory in our humiliation? Do we endure the manifold temptations to which we are exposed, and preserve our faith unimpaired? How glorious is the crown of life, even already on our heads, invisible to men of the world, who are sensible only of external pomp and splendour, but visible to the children of God, to whom Divine wisdom is justified in all her ways. Only let this crown adorn us, and we will consent to.lie in the dust, the scorn and by-word of the people. Our apostle was stoned to death; but among the martyrs his countenance would appear like that of the first martyr, Stephen, "as the face of an angel." That was his crown here below. That adorable head, which on earth had not a place where to lay itself, wore no visible crown but a crown of thorns; but those who looked upon it with the eye of faith, beheld it still replendent with the glory of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth, even when He hung upon the Cross; and that was His crown even on earth. But at the right hand of God His crown shines still more gloriously; and there also the crown of the Christian will shine with its full lustre.

(B. Jacobi.)

I. THE CHARACTER GIVEN OF GOD.

1. "God cannot be tempted of evil."(1) The absolute and infinite self-sufficiency of His blessedness. That blessedness is altogether independent of every other being whatever besides Himself. It is full: incapable of either diminution or increase: springing as it does from the infinite perfection of His own immutable nature. He can never have any. thing for which to hope; and never anything to fear.(2) He is placed beyond all such possibility by the absolute perfection of His moral nature. "God cannot be tempted with evil." His nature is necessarily and infinitely opposed to everything of the kind; and to such a nature what is sinful or impure never can present aught capable of exerting even the remotest influence.

2. "Neither tempteth He any man."(1) God tempts no man, by presenting to him inducements, motives, persuasives, to sin.(2) God tempts no man by any direct inward influence; by infusing evil thoughts, inclinations, and desires.(3) God "tempteth not any man" by placing him in circumstances in which he is laid under a natural necessity of stoning.

II. Proceed we now to THE ADMONITION FOUNDED ON WHAT IS SAID OF GOD: — "Let no man say, when he is tempted, I am tempted of God"; "for God tempteth no man: "or to put it according to the order of thought we have chosen to follow — "God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man: let no man therefore say, when he is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man." It is because every such thought of God is impious, that the saying is condemned as impious. The delusion before us is one of the most fearful palliations of sin, and opiates to the conscience, that the deceitful heart of man has ever suggested. But, if conscience is allowed to speak in sincerity, its utterance will be — "I am a voluntary sinner. No extraneous force has kept me back from good; no such force has compelled me to evil. I have followed my own inclinations. My heart and my will have been in all the evil I have done. It is all my own."

1. Let the unbelieving sinner beware of imagining that the guilt of his rejecting the gospel lies anywhere else than with himself.

2. There is one view in which you would do well to remember God "cannot be tempted with evil." He can never be induced to act, in any step of His procedure, inconsistently with any attribute of His character, or, in a single jot or tittle, to sacrifice the claims of the purest moral rectitude.

III. THE TRUE NATURE OF TEMPTATION. "But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed." In this description temptation is to be understood as relating to the state of the mind between the moment of the first entrance of the sinful thought, and the actual commission of the evil; — the state of the mind while the enticement is working within among the hidden desires and appetencies of the heart, exerting there its seductive influence. "Every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust." This is evidently meant to be emphatic. It refers back to the preceding verse — "Let no man say, I am tempted of God": God "tempteth not any man." The "lust" by which he is tempted, is not of God: it is "his own lust." And all evil that is in man is his own. Within our own hearts are seated many evil desires. The devil needs not introduce them. There they are. He acts upon them, no doubt, in his own mysterious and insidious way. But the extraneous operations of a tempter are not at all required to stir up their evil exercise. They work of themselves. From all the objects around us, that are fitted to gratify those desires, our senses are so many inlets of temptation to our hearts. Nor are even our senses necessary to the admission of temptation. The imagination can work independently of them, And both in waking and in sleeping hours, many a time is it busy in summoning tempting scenes before them. The principle of the words before us may be applied alike to prosperity and adversity. In adversity, "our own lusts" may tempt us to "charge God foolishly," and that too both in our hearts and with our lips; and thus to give sinful indulgence to ungodly tempers of mind. Then again, in the time of prosperity; "our own lust" may often tempt us to the abuse of it. We may be led to forget God, at the very time when His accumulated kindnesses give Him the stronger claim on our grateful and devout remembrance. We may give, in our hearts, the place of the Giver to His gifts.

IV. THE FEARFUL CONSEQUENCES OF YIELDING TO TEMPTATION. "When lust hath conceived." The obvious meaning of the figurative allusion is, that when the evil desire is admitted into the mind, and, instead of being resisted, prayed against, and driven out, is retained, fostered, indulged, and through dwelling upon the object of it, grows in strength, and at length is fully matured, it will come forth in action; as after the period of gestation and growth, the child in the womb comes to the birth. The lust, having thus conceived, "bringeth forth sin"; that is, produces practical transgression — sin in the life — actual departure from the way of God's commandments. "And sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." That God's righteousness may not only condemn justly, but appear as condemning justly, the sentence is thus connected with the act — with the effect and manifestation of the evil principle. But the very language implies that the sin did not begin with the act: it is finished in the act; and the evil of the act concentrates in it all the previous evil of the thoughts, desires, and motives from which it arose, and by which it was ultimately matured into action. The "death" — that death which is "the wages of sin" — follows on the commission of it, as surely as, in nature, the birth follows the conception.

V. THE IMPORTANCE OF FORMING AND CHERISHING RIGHT, AND OF AVOIDING WRONG, CONCEPTIONS ON THIS SUBJECT. "Do not err, my beloved brethren." It is as if the apostle had said — "Beware of mistakes here." And certainly there are few subjects on which it is of more essential consequence to have correct ideas, or on which misapprehensions are more perilous. The thought that is specially reprobated in the passage which has been under review is one which cannot fail to affect all the principles, and feelings, and practices of the Christian life. It affects our views of God: and these lie at the foundation of all religion. According as they are right or wrong, must our religion be right or wrong, it must equally affect our views of ourselves — of ourselves as sinners; inasmuch as all the penitential humiliation, all the contrite broken-heartedness, on account of our sins, which we ever ought to feel, lose entirely their ground, and are inevitably gone, the moment we say, or think, that "we are tempted of God" — that in any way our sin and guilt are attributable to Him. It must, in the same way, affect our conceptions of sin itself; of its "exceeding sinfulness" and unutterable guilt. And thus it will affect our views of our need of a Saviour; and especially of such a Saviour, and such a salvation, as the gospel reveals.

1. Let believers be impressed with the necessity of unceasing vigilance over their own hearts. Their worst enemies are in their own bosoms.

2. Let all consider the necessity of the heart being right with God. It is only in a holy heart, a heart renewed by the Spirit, a heart of which the lusts are laid under arrest, and crucified, that He can dwell.

3. Ponder seriously the certain consequences of unrepented and unforgiven sin: and by immediate recourse to the Cross, and to the blood there shed for the remission of sins, shun the fearful end which otherwise awaits you.

(R. Wardlaw, D. D.)

I. IT REMINDS US OF THE DEPRAVITY OF HUMAN NATURE.

II. WE ARE TAUGHT HOW SURELY THE EVIL PRINCIPLE WILL WORK IN THE HEART, IF UNCHECKED AND UNRESTRAINED, TILL IT HAS BROUGHT FORTH FRUIT UNTO DEATH. Every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. It is the internal desire which gives temptation its power over man. Were there no appetite for the intoxicating liquor, the cup which contains it would be offered in vain. Were there no covetous desire, the prospect of gain would be no temptation to deviate from the path of rectitude. In every case it is the state of the heart which gives to temptation its power to subdue. Its suddenness may surprise into transgression, but when its success is owing entirely to this circumstance, repentance may be expected quickly to arise. The case supposed in the text is not of this nature. The temptation is embraced and followed. The sinner is "drawn away of his own lust and enticed" to his ruin. The stronger the sinful propensity has become by indulgence, the greater is the power which every corresponding temptation has to overcome him. He is the less disposed, and therefore the less able to resist. Pleasure in some form is the bait that hides the hook by which he is drawn and enticed. The death which is the end of sin will therefore be of as long duration as the life which is the fruit of holiness. It will not be an arbitrary undeserved punishment, but the wages of sin, its proper desert. Such is the death which sic, when it is finished, bringeth forth.

III. WE LEARN HOW EASILY GOD CAN BRING SIN TO LIGHT. Should sin escape detection in this life, we know that nothing can be concealed from the eye of God, who will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and make manifest the counsels of all hearts. The day shall declare every man's work of what sort it is. Every one must give an account of himself to God, must narrate his own proceedings, and unfold his own character, before an assembled universe.

IV. THE IMPORTANCE OF SUPPRESSING THE FIRST RISINGS OF EVIL IN THE HEART, AND GUARDING AGAINST THE FIRST STEP IN A WRONG COURSE.

V. WE LEARN THAT NOTHING CAN BE MORE WRONG THAN FOR .ANY MAN TO THROW THE BLAME OF HIS SINS UPON GOD. "Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God, for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man." The all-wise, pure, perfect, self-sufficient, almighty Creator and Ruler of the universe can be under no temptation to evil, neither can He place temptation in the way of any one to induce him to sin. This would be to act in direct contrariety to His own nature. A wicked man may say, "If God has given me such passions how can I help being led astray by them?" God has not given you such passions; you have given them to yourself. The desires He gave you were needful to the great purposes of human existence. Without them the powers of man could not be called into action. You have perverted them, and allowed them to gain the mastery over reason, conscience, and religion. Suppose a friend recommended to you a servant whom he had uniformly found, after a long trial, faithful and obedient, and you had spoiled that servant, after taking him into your service, by every unwarrantable indulgence, till he had tyrannised over you, and wasted your property, would you have any right to complain of your friend for recommending him, would not the blame rest entirely with yourself? Everything becomes a temptation to a depraved heart — prosperity or adversity; wealth or poverty; success or disappointment. On the other hand, "All things work together for good to them that love God, and are the called according to His purpose."

VI. Finally, WE LEARN, THAT SUCH BEING THE DEPRAVITY OF MAN, THERE IS NO SECURITY FROM THE RUIN WHICH SIN WILL INEVITABLY BITING UPON THE TRANSGRESSOR, BUT IN THAT COMPLETE RENOVATION OF OUR NATURE WHICH IN SCRIPTURE IS CALLED REGENERATION — A NEW CREATION. "That which is born of the flesh is flesh" — corrupt in its tendencies. But, "whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for His seed remaineth in him; and he cannot sin because he is born of God."

(Essex Remembrancer.)

Archbishop Trench points out that many words, which when first used bad an innocent and even commendable meaning, have come by use to carry a doubtful or malignant sense; and in this degradation of our words he sees a proof and illustration of human depravity. The word "temptation," both in Greek and English, is a case in point. According to its derivation and original use, the word simply means "test," whatever tends to excite, to draw out and bring to the surface, the hidden contents of the heart, whatever serves to indicate the ruling bent. But in process of time the word has come to have a darker significance. For if there is much that is good in us, there is also much that is evil. And because, in their intercourse with each other, men are too often bent on provoking that which is evil in each other, rather than on eliciting and strengthening that which is good, the word "temptation" has sunk from its original plane, and has come to signify mainly such testings and trials of character as are designed to draw out the evil that is in us; trials and tests skilfully adapted to our besetting infirmities, and likely to develop the lower and baser qualities of our nature. It is because of this double meaning of the word that we meet in Scripture such apparently contradictory phrases as, "Lead us not into temptation," and, ' "Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations." It is in this double meaning of the word, moreover, that we find the key to the apparently contradictory statements that God does tempt men, and that He does not tempt them. He does tempt us all in the sense that He puts us all to the proof, and compels us at times to see what manner of men we are. But if, in this sense, God tempts every man, there is a sense in which "He tempts no man." For it is never the design of the trials to which He puts us to bring out and confirm that which is evil in us. It is always His purpose to bring out and confirm that which is good in us; or, if He show us wherein we are weak, it is not that we may remain weak and foolish, but that we may seek and find strength and wisdom in Him. When we have fallen into "temptation," in the bad sense of that word — when, that is, we have yielded to an evil influence, and have suffered our baser passions to be excited — we are apt to say, "I am tempted of God," to plead: "Well, after all, He made me what I am. Am I to blame for my passionate temperament, or for the strength and fierceness of my desires?" Or, again, we say: "Circumstances were against me. The opportunity was too tempting, my need or my craving was too importunate, to be resisted. And are not our circumstances and condition appointed by Him?" Thus we charge God foolishly, knowing and feeling all the while that it is we ourselves who are to blame whenever the lower part of our nature is permitted a supremacy against which the higher part protests. God tempts no man, affirms St. James, and assigns as a reason, "for God is unversed in evil," or, "God is incapable of evil," or, "God is untemptable with evil"; for in these three several ways this one word is translated. His implied argument is sufficiently clear, however we may render his words. What he assumes is, "Every one who tempts another to do evil must have some evil in his own nature. But there is no shadow or taint of evil in God, and therefore it is impossible that God should tempt any man." But if the evil temptations we have to encounter do not come from God, whence do they come? St. James replies, "Every man is tempted when he is drawn aside of his own lust, and enticed" — the man's lust being here conceived of as a harlot who lavishes her blandishments upon him; "then the lust, having conceived, bringeth forth sin; and the sin, when it is mature, bringeth forth death." The origin of sin is in man's own breast, in his own hot and extravagant desires for any kind of temporal or sensual good; and the apostle traces the sinner's career through the successive steps that lead down to death.

1. First, the man is drawn aside. James conceives of him as occupied with his daily task, busily discharging the duties of his daily calling. While be is thus engaged, a craving for some unlawful or excessive gratification, for a gain that cannot be honestly secured, or an indulgence which cannot be taken soberly and in the fear of God, springs up within his mind. The craving haunts his mind, and takes form in it. He bends his regards on it, and is drawn towards it. At first, perhaps, his will is firm, and he refuses to yield to its attraction. But the craving is very strong; it touches him at his weak point. And when it comes back to him again and again, it swells and grows into what St. James calls a "lust." It is "his own lust," the passion most native to him, and most potent with such as he — the love of gain, or the love of rule, or the love of distinction, or some affection of a baser strain. For a time tie may resist its fascination; but ere long his work is laid aside, the claims of duty are neglected, the warnings of conscience unheeded. All he means is to get a nearer view of this strange, alluring visitor, to lift its veil, to see what it is like and for what intent it beckons him away. And so he takes his first step: he is drawn aside from the clear and beaten path of duty.

2. Then he is enticed, "allured," as the Greek word implies, "with pleasant baits." His craving waxes stronger, the object of desire more attractive, as he advances. All specious excuses — all that moralists have allowed or bold transgressors have claimed — are urged upon him, until at last his scruples are overborne, and he yields himself a willing captive to his lust.

3. Then lust" conceives." The will consents to the wish ' the evil desire grows toward an evil deed. He can know no rest till his craving be gratified. The good work in which he was occupied looks tame and wearisome to him. He is fevered by passion, and absorbed in James 2:4. Having conceived, "lust bringeth forth sin." The bad purpose has become a bad deed, and the bad deed is followed by its natural results. Coming to the light, his evil deeds may be reproved. When the sin is born, the man may recognise his guilt. He may repent, and be forgiven and restored.

5. But if he do not turn and repent, the last step will be taken, and sin, being matured, will bring forth death. Action will grow into habit, the sinful action into a habit of sinning. As sin grows and matures, it will rob him of his energy. He will no longer make a stand against temptation. He will wholly surrender himself to his lust, until all that makes him man dies out of him, and only the fierce, brutal craving remains. Hogarth has left us a familiar series of pictures entitled "The Rake's Progress," in which the career of a profligate spendthrift is sketched from its commencement to its close. Were I an artist, I would paint you a similar series on a kindred but wider theme — the Sinner's Progress.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

Now, affliction is an evil of which God Himself is the author, very consistently with the perfect purity of His nature, and with the tenderest compassion for His servants: "Whom He loveth, He rebuketh and chasteneth"; and the design is worthy of supreme goodness as well as rectitude, for it is to try the virtues of the afflicted in order to strengthen them, that they may be found unto praise, and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 1:7). But there is another kind of temptation here spoken of, of which God is not the author or cause. The meaning of this, certainly, is a solicitation to sin; when the intention is not to prove the sincerity of feeble virtue in order to confirm and increase it, but to subvert and destroy it; to draw the weak and unwary into wickedness which leadeth to their ruin. This is what the perfectly holy and good God is not capable of.

I. THAT GOD IN ALL HIS WORKS AND WAYS, THE WHOLE OF HIS ADMINISTRATION TOWARDS MANKIND, STANDETH PERFECTLY CLEAR OF TEMPTING THEM TO MORAL EVIL. He is not in the least degree, or by a fair construction, in any part of His conduct, accessary to any one of their offences. But all religion resteth upon this principle, utterly inconsistent with His tempting any man or any creature, that God is only pleased with rational" agents doing that which is right, and displeased with their doing what is wrong in a moral sense: if that be denied, piety is entirely subverted, and all practice of virtue on the foundation of piety. A being who is wholly incapable of any moral turpitude, cannot solicit any others to it, nor give them the least countenance in it, which must always necessarily suppose a corrupt affection. Another of the Divine attributes is goodness, equally essential to his character, but if God be good, He cannot tempt any man.

2. Let us proceed to consider the works of God which relate to man, and we shall be convinced that far from having a tendency, or showing a design, to draw him into sin, which is tempting him, on the contrary, they provide against it in the best manner. And, first, if we look into the human constitution, which is the work of God, this sense of right and wrong discovereth itself early; it is not the result of mature reflection, close reasoning, and long study, but it plainly appeareth that the gracious author of our being intended to prevent us with it, that we should not be 'led astray before our arriving at the full exercise of our understanding. To this sense of good and evil, there is added in our constitution a strong enforcement of the choice, and the practice of the former, in that high pleasure of self-approbation which is naturally and inseparably annexed to it. Must it not be acknowledged, then, that the frame of our nature prompteth to the practice of virtue at its proper end, and that the designing cause of it did not intend to tempt us to evil, but to provide against our being tempted? It is true that liberty is a part of the constitution, which importeth a power of doing evil, and by which it is that we are rendered capable of it. This, as well as the other capacities of our nature, is derived from God; but there is no rational profence for alleging that gift to be a temptation, because liberty is not an inclination to evil, but merely the mind's power of determining itself to that, or the contrary, according as the motives to the one or the other should appear strongest; and that the author of the constitution hath cast the balance on the side of virtue, we may see from what hath been already said, since tie hath given us virtuous instincts, with a sense of moral obligations, and added a very powerful sanction to them. Besides, liberty is absolutely necessary to the practice of virtue, as well as to the being of moral evil; nor could we without it have been capable of rational happiness.

3. Again, if we consider the administration of providence, and the Divine conduct towards all men, we shall find that the same design is regularly pursued by methods becoming the wisdom of God, and best suited to our condition; the design, I mean, not of tempting us to sin, but preserving us from it. As God sent men into the world, a species of rational beings, fitted by the excellent faculties wherewith He endued them for rendering Him very important service, and enjoying a great measure of happiness, so He constantly careth for that favourite workmanship of His hands. Of all the nations of men who are made to dwell on the face of the earth, none are without witness of their Maker's mercies, for He continually doth them good, "sending them rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, and filling their hearts with food and gladness." Now if such kindness be the character of the Divine administration, what is the tendency of it? Is it to tempt men, to lead them to sin, which is rebellion against Himself, and against their own reason? But when men had wilfully corrupted their ways, and turned the bounty of God into lasciviousness, Providence hath sometimes interposed in a different manner, that is, by awful judgments suddenly spread over nations or cities.

4. And, lastly, if we consider the revelation of the gospel, and that whole Divine scheme contained in it, which God in love to mankind hath formed for our salvation, we must see that the whole design of it is directly opposite to the design of tempting; it is to turn every one of us from our iniquities. But for the general tenor of the Divine administration towards men, it designedly favoureth their escape from temptations, and directeth them to the paths of virtue (1 Corinthians 10:13). Some, indeed, to shun the dangerous mistake of imputing sin and temptation to God as in any respect its cause, have run into the opposite equally absurd extreme of withdrawing moral evil altogether from under God's government of the world, and deriving it from an original independent evil principle; which scheme, as it destroyeth the true notion of vice representing it not as the voluntary act of imperfect intelligent beings, but as flowing from an independent necessity of nature. The generality of Christians, owning the unity of God, do also acknowledge His perfect purity and goodness, and in words, at least, deny Him to be the author of sin: but I am afraid the opinions received among some of them are not perfectly consistent with these true principles. For instance, to represent the nature of men as so corrupted, without any personal fault of theirs, that they are under a fatal necessity of sinning, and that it is utterly impossible for them to do anything which is good. What thoughts can a man have of this, but that it is the appointed condition of his being, to be resolved ultimately into the will of his Maker, just like the shortness of his understanding, the imperfection of his senses, or even the frailty of his body?The counsels of God concerning men's sins, and the agency of His providence about them, not in overruling the issue, but in ascertaining and by its influence determining them, as intending events, ought also to be considered with the utmost caution.

1. And, first of all, that God is not tempted with evil, neither tempteth any man, tendeth to preserve in our minds the highest esteem and reverence for Him. It is not possible for us to have a veneration for a tempter.

2. This doctrine tendeth to beget and confirm in us an utter abhorrence of sin, because it is the thing God hateth, and will have nothing to do, no kind of communication with it.

II. The second instruction relating to temptations, now to be considered, amounteth to this, that the true and most useful account of the origin of sin to every particular person, that which really is the spring of prevailing temptation, Is HIS OWN LUST; but every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed.

1. Wbat is meant by lust. To understand this we must look into the inferior part of the human constitution. Since it pleased God to form man as he is, compounded of flesh and spirit, it was necessary there should be in his nature affections suitable to both. This leadeth us to a true notion of what the apostle calleth lust; it signifieth the whole of those affections and passions which take their rise from the body and the animal part of our nature, and which terminate in the enjoyments and conveniences of our present state, as distinguished from the moral powers and pleasures of the mind, and the perfection of them, which requireth our chief application as being our principal concern and ultimate happiness. That inferior part of our constitution, in itself innocent and necessary for such beings, yet giveth the occasion whereby we, abusing our liberty, are drawn away and enticed to evil by various ways; such as, vehement desires beyond the real value of the objects; an immoderate indulgence in the gratification of those desires, either in instances which are prohibited by reason and the laws of God, or even within the licensed kinds, above the proper limits which the end of such gratification hath fixed; all tending to weaken the devout and virtuous affections which are the glory of our nature and the distinguishing excellence of man. Other affections also tempt us, as sorrow, which often through our weakness exceedeth in proportion the event which is the occasion of it. 2. To consider how men are tempted by lust, being drawn away and enticed. And here what I would principally observe is, that lusts are only the occasions or temptations to moral evil, not necessitating causes. The mind is free, and voluntarily determineth itself upon the suggestions of appetites and passions, not irresistibly governed by them; to say otherwise, is to reproach the constitution and the author of it; and for men to lay upon Him the blame of their own faults, which yet their consciences cannot help taking to themselves. Let us reflect on what passeth in our own heart on such occasions, to which none of us can be strangers; and we shall be convinced that we have the power of controlling the inclinations and tendencies which arise in our mind, or not consenting to them, and a power of suspending our consent till we have farther considered the motives of action, and that this is a power often exerted by us. The most vehement desires of meat and drink are resisted upon an apprehension of danger; the love of money and the love of honour are checked, and their strongest solicitations sometimes utterly denied, through the superior force of contrary passions, or upon motives of conscience.

3. To show, that in the account which the text giveth, we may rest our inquiry, as to all the valuable purposes of it, concerning the origin of sin in ourselves. The true end of such inquiry is our preservation and deliverance from sin, that we may know how to avoid it, or repent of it when committed; excepting so far as they contribute to those ends, speculations about it are curious but unprofitable.What I have just now hinted directeth us to the proper application of this subject.

1. And, first, upon a review of the whole progress of temptation from the first occasion of it to the last unhappy effect, the finishing of sin, which, I suppose, we are all agreed is the just object of our deepest concern, we may see what judgment is to be made, and where we ought to lay the blame.

2. From this doctrine of the apostle which I have endeavoured to explain, we see where our greatest danger is of being led into sin, and whence the most powerful and prevailing temptations arise, that is, from the lusts of the heart.

3. And therefore, thirdly, if we would maintain our integrity, let us keep the strictest watch over our own appetites and passions, and here place our strongest, for it will be the most effectual defence.

(J. Abernethy, D. D.)

Next to the belief of a God, and His providence, there is nothing more fundamentally necessary to the practice of a good life than the belief of these two principles. First, that God is not the author of sin, that He is in no way accessary to our faults, either by tempting or forcing us to the commission of them. For if He were, they would not properly be sins, for sin is a contradiction to the will of God; but supposing men to be either tempted or necessitated thereto, that which we call sin would either be a mere passive obedience to the will of God, or an active compliance with it, but neither way a contradiction to it. Nor could these actions be justly punished; for all punishment supposeth a fault, and a fault supposeth liberty and freedom from force and necessity; so that no man can be justly punished for that which he cannot help, and no man can help that which he is necessitated to. And though there were no force in the case, but only temptation, yet it would be unreasonable for the same person to tempt and punish. Secondly, that every man's fault lies at his own door, and he has reason enough to blame himself for all the evil that he does. And this is that which makes men properly guilty, that when they have done amiss, they are conscious to themselves it was their own act.

I. THAT GOD DOTH NOT TEMPT ANY MAN TO SIN.

1. The proposition which the apostle here rejects, and that is, that God tempts men, "Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God." Now, that we may the more distinctly understand the meaning of the proposition, which the apostle here rejects, it will be very requisite to consider what temptation is, and the several sorts and kinds of it. Temptation does always imply something of danger. And men are thus tempted, either from themselves, or by others; by others, chiefly these two ways. First, By direct and downright persuasion to sin. And to be sure God tempts no man this way. He offers no arguments to man to persuade him to sin; He nowhere proposeth either reward or impunity to sinners; but, on the contrary, gives all imaginable encouragement to obedience, and threatens the transgression of His law with most dreadful punishments. Secondly, men are likewise tempted, by being brought into such circumstances, as will greatly endanger their falling into sin, though none persuade them to it. The allurements of the world are strong temptations; riches, honours, and pleasures are the occasions and incentives to many lusts. And, on the other hand, the evils and calamities of this world, especially if they threaten or fall upon men in any degree of extremity, are strong temptations to human nature. That the providence of God does order, or at least permit, men to be brought into these circumstances which are such dangerous temptations to sin, no man can doubt, that believes His providence to be concerned in the affairs of the world. All the difficulty is, how far the apostle does here intend to exempt God from a hand in these temptations. Now, for the clearer understanding of this it will be requsiite to consider the several ends which those who tempt others may have in tempting them; and all temptation is for one of these three reasons. First, for the exercise and improvement of men's graces and virtues. And this is the end which God always aims at, in bringing good men, or permitting them to be brought, into dangerous temptations. And this certainly is no disparagement to the providence of God, to permit men to be thus tempted, when He permits it for no other end but to make them better men, and thereby to prepare them for a greater reward. And this happy issue of temptations to good men the providence of God secures to them either by proportioning the temptation to their strength; or. if it exceed that, by ministering new strength and support to them, by the secret aids of His Holy Spirit. And where God doth secure men against temptations, or support them under them, it is no reflection at all upon the goodness or justice of His providence to permit them to be thus tempted. Secondly, God permits others to be thus tempted, by way of judgement and punishment, for some former great sins and provocations which they have been guilty of (Isaiah 6:10). So likewise (Romans 1:24) God is said to have given up the idolatrous heathen "to uncleanness, to vile and unnatural lusts" (Romans 28; 2 Thessalonians 2:11). But it is observable, that, in all these places which I have mentioned, God is said to give men up to the power of temptation, as a punishment of some former great crimes and provocations. And it is not unjust with God thus to deal with men, to leave them to the power of temptation, when they had first wilfully forsaken Him; and in this case God doth not tempt men to sin, but leaves them to themselves, to be tempted by their own hearts' lusts; and if they yield and are conquered, it is their own fault. Thirdly, the last end of temptation which I mentioned is to try men, with a direct purpose and intention to seduce men to sin. Thus wicked men tempt others, and thus the devil tempts men. But thus God tempts no man; and in this sense it is that the apostle means that "no man when he is tempted, is tempted of God." God hath no design to seduce any man to sin.

2. I now proceed to the second thing which I propounded to consider, viz., the manner in which the apostle rejects this proposition, "Let no man say, when he is tempted, I am tempted of God." By which manner of speaking he insinuates two things. First, that men are apt to lay their faults upon God. For when he says, "Let no man say" so, he intimates that men were apt to say thus. It is not unlikely that men might lay the fault upon God's providence, which exposed them to these difficult trials, and thereby tempted them to forsake their religion. But however this be, we find it very natural to men to transfer their faults upon others. They think it is a mitigation of their faults, if they did not proceed only from themselves, but from the violence and instigation of others. But, especially, men are very glad to lay their faults upon God, because He is a full and sufficient excuse, nothing being to be blamed that comes from Him. Secondly, this manner of speech, which the apostle here useth, doth insinuate further to us, that it is not only a false, but an impious assertion, to say that God tempts men to sin.

3. Third thing I propounded to consider; namely, The reason or argument which the apostle brings against this impious suggestion; that "God cannot be tempted with evil"; and therefore no man can imagine that He should tempt any man to it.First, consider the strength and force of this argument: and — First, we will consider the proposition upon which this argument is built, and that in, that "God cannot be tempted by evil." He is out of the reach of any temptation to evil. For, first, He hath no temptation to it from His own inclination. The holy and pure nature of God is at the greatest distance from evil, and at the greatest contrariety to it. He is so far from having any inclination to evil, that it is the only thing in the world to which He hath an irreconcilable antipathy (Psalm 5:4; Habakkuk 1:13). Secondly, there is no allurement in the object to stir up any inclination to Him towards it. Thirdly, neither are there external motives and considerations that can be imagined to tempt God to it. All arguments that have any temptation are founded either in the hope of gaining some benefit, or in the fear of falling into some mischief or inconvenience. Now the Divine nature, being perfectly happy, and perfectly secured in its own happiness, is out of the reach of any of these temptations.

2. Consider the consequences that clearly follow from it, that because God cannot be tempted with evil, therefore He cannot tempt any man to it. For why should He desire to draw men into that which He Himself abhors, and which is so contrary to His own nature and disposition? Bad men tempt others to sin, to make them like themselves, and that with one of these two designs; either for the comfort or pleasure of company, or for the countenance of it, that there may be some kind of apology and excuse for them. And when the devil tempts men to sin, it is either out of direct malice to God, or out of envy to men. But the Divine nature is full of goodness, and delights in the happiness of all His creatures. His own incomparable felicity has placed Him as much above any temptation to envying others as above any occasion of being contemned by them. Now, in this method of arguing, the apostle teacheth us one of the surest ways of reasoning in religion; namely, from the natural notions which men have of God. Inferences: First, let us beware of all such doctrines as do any ways tend to make God the author of sin; either by laying a necessity upon men of sinning, or by laying secret design to tempt and seduce men to sin. We find that the holy men in Scripture are very careful to remove all thought and suspicion of this from God. Elihu (Job 36:3), before he would argue about God's providence with Job, he resolves, in the first place, to attribute nothing to God that is unworthy of Him. "I will (says he) ascribe righteousness to my Maker." So likewise St. Paul "What shall we say then? Is the law sin? God forbid" (Romans 7:7). "Is the law sin?" that is, hath God given men a law to this end, that He might draw them into sin? Far be it from Him. "Is Christ the minister of sin? God forbid" (Galatians 2:17). Secondly, let not us tempt any man to sin. All piety pretends to be an imitation of God; therefore let us endeavour to be like Him in this. Thirdly, since God tempts no man, let us not tempt Him. There is frequent mention in Scripture of men's tempting God, i.e., trying Him, as it were, whether He will do anything for their sakes that is misbecoming His goodness, and wisdom, and faithfulness, or any other of His perfections. Thus the Israelites are said to have "tempted God in the wilderness forty years together," and, in that space, more remarkably ten times. So likewise if we be negligent in our callings, whereby we should provide for our families, if we lavish away that which we should lay up for them, and then depend upon the providence of God to supply them, and take, care of them, we tempt God to that which is unworthy of Him; which is to give approbation to our folly, and countenance our sloth and carelessness.

II. THAT EVERY MAN IS HIS OWN GREATEST TEMPTER. "BUut every man is tempted, when he is drawn aside of his own lust, and enticed." In which words the apostle gives us a true account of the prevalency of temptation upon men. It is not because God has any design to ensnare men in sin; but their own vicious inclinations seduce them to that which is evil. To instance in the particular temptations the apostle was speaking of, persecution and suffering for the cause of religion, to avoid which many did then forsake the truth, and apostatise from their Christian profession. They had an inordinate affection for the ease and pleasure of this life, and their unwillingness to part with these was a great temptation to them to quit their religion; by this bait they were caught, when it came to the trial. And thus it is proportionably in all other sorts of temptations. Men are betrayed by themselves. First, that as the apostle doth here acquit God from any hand in tempting men to sin, so he does not ascribe the prevalency and efficacy of temptation to the devil. I shall here consider how far the devil by his temptations is the cause of the sins which men, by compliance with those temptations, are drawn into. First, it is certain that the devil is very active and busy to minister to them the occasion of sin, and temptations to it. Secondly, the devil does not only present to men the temptations and occasions of sin; but when he is permitted to make nearer approaches to them, does excite and stir them up to comply with these temptations, and to yield to them. And there is reason, from what is said in Scripture, to believe that the devil, in some cases, hath a more immediate power and influence upon the minds of men, to excite them to sin, and, where he discovers a very bad inclination or resolution, to help it forward (John 13:27; Acts 5:3). Thirdly, but for all this the devil can force no man to sin; his temptations may move and excite men to sin, but that they were prevalent and effectual proceeds from our own will and consent; it is our own lusts closing with his temptations that produce sin. Fourthly, from what hath been said it appears that though the devil be frequently accessary to the sins of men, yet we ourselves are the authors of them; he tempts us many times to sin, but it is we that commit it. I am far from thinking that the devil tempts men to all the evil that they do. I rather think that the greatest part of the wickedness that is committed in the world springs from the evil motions of men's own minds. Men's own lusts are generally to them the worst devil of the two, and do more strongly incline them to sin than any devil without them can tempt them to it. Others, after he has made them sure, and put them into the way of it, will go on of themselves, and are as mad of sinning, as forward to destroy themselves, as the devil himself could wish; so that he can hardly tempt men to any wickedness which he does not find them inclined to of themselves. So that we may reasonably conclude that there is a great deal of wickedness committed in the world which the devil hath no immediate hand in. Second observation, that he ascribes the efficacy and success of temptation to the lusts and vicious inclinations of men, which seduce them to a consent and compliance with the temptations which are afforded to them. "Every man is tempted when he is drawn aside of his own lust, and enticed." Lay the blame of men's sins chiefly upon themselves, and that chiefly upon these two accounts: First, the lusts of men are in a great measure voluntary. By the lusts of men I mean their irregular and vicious inclinations. Nay, and after this it is still our own fault if we do not mortify our lusts; for if we would hearken to-the counsel of God, and obey His calls to repentance, and sincerely beg His grace and Holy Spirit to this purpose, we might yet recover ourselves, and "by the Spirit mortify the deeds of the flesh." Secondly, God hath put it in our power to resist these temptations, and overcome them; so that it is our own fault if we yield to them, and be overcome by them. First, it is naturally in our power to resist many sorts of temptations. If we do but make use of our natural reason, and those considerations which are common and obvious to men, we may easily resist the temptations to a great many sins. Secondly, the grace of God puts it into our power, if we do not neglect it, and be not wanting to ourselves, to resist any temptation that may happen to us; and what the grace of God puts into our power, is as truly in our power as what we can do ourselves. Learn: First, not to think to excuse ourselves by laying the blame of our sins upon the temptation of the devil. Secondly, from hence we learn what reason we have to pray to God, that He would "not lead us into temptation," i.e., not permit us to fall into it; for, in the phrase of the Scripture, God is many times said to do these things which His providence permits to be done. Thirdly, from hence we may learn the best way to disarm temptations, and to take away the power of them; and that is by mortifying our lusts and subduing our vicious inclinations.

(Abp. Tillotson.)

1. Man is apt to transfer the guilt of his own miscarriages.(1):Beware of these vain pretences. Silence and owning of guilt is far more becoming; God is most glorified when the creatures lay aside their shifts.(2) Learn that all these excuses are vain and frivolous, they will not hold with God.

2. Creatures, rather than not transfer their guilt, will cast it upon God Himself.(1) Partly because by casting it upon God the soul is most secure. When He that is to punish sin beareth the guilt of it, the soul is relieved from much horror and bondage; therefore, in the way of faith, God's transacting our sin upon Christ is most satisfying to the spirit (Isaiah 53:6).(2) Partly through a wicked desire that is in men to blemish the being of God. Man naturally hateth God; and our spite is shown by profaning His glory, and making it become vile in our thoughts; for since we cannot raze out the sense of the Deity, we would destroy the dread and reverence of it. We charge God with our evils and sins divers ways —(a) When we blame His providence, the state of things, the times, the persons about us, the circumstances of Providence, as the laying of tempting objects in our way, our condition, &c., as if God's disposing of our interests were a calling us to sin: thus Adam (Genesis 3:12).(b) By ascribing sin to the defect and faint operation of the Divine grace. Men will say they could do no otherwise; they had no more grace given them by God (Proverbs 19:3).(c) When men lay all their miscarriages upon their fate, and the unhappy stars that shone at their birth, these are but blind flings at God Himself veiled under reflections upon the creature.(d) When men are angry they know not why.(e) Most grossly, when you think God useth any suggestion to the soul to persuade and incline it to evil.(f) When you have an ill understanding and conceit of His decrees, as if they did necessitate you to sin. Men will say, "Who can help it? God would have it so" — as if that were an excuse for all.

3. God is so immutably good and holy that He is above the power of a temptation. Men soon warp and vary, but He cannot be tempted. And generally, we deal with God as if He could be tempted and wrought to a compliance with our corrupt ends, as Solomon speaketh of sacrifice offered with an evil mind (Proverbs 21:27); that is, to gain the favour of heaven in some evil undertaking and design.

4. The Author of all good cannot be the author of sin.

(T. Manton.)

I. THERE IS A TENDENCY IN THE MIND OF TRANSGRESSORS TO TRACE THEIR ERRORS AND INIQUITIES TO TEMPTATIONS PLACED IN THEIR WAY BY THE MORAL RULER OF THE WORLD.

II. TO EVINCE THE UTTER ABSURDITY AND INCONSISTENCY OF ASCRIBING, IN ANY MANNER OR TO ANY EXTENT, THE MORAL DELINQUENCIES OF MEN TO THE AUTHOR OF THEIR BEING, THE APOSTLE REMINDS US OF THE MORAL RECTITUDE OF THE DIVINE CHARACTER. He cannot be imagined as making any arrangements of the natural, or forming any plans in the moral world, of which the direct and necessary effect would be to lead His creatures into that which He has so solemnly declared that He cannot look upon but with abhorrence. Since He views with unmixed complacence the progress of His rational offspring in holiness and benevolence, can we imagine that He should either endow them with capacities, or place them in circumstances, the direct tendency of which should be to lead them into the paths of malevolence and impurity?

III. Having shown from the holiness of the Divine character that God is not the author of human temptations, he next grounds this assertion on THE DIVINE CONDUCT TO THE HUMAN FAMILY.

1. Examine, O man! the moral constitution of thy nature, and see if thou canst detect there any arrangement for thy departure from the path of holiness and peace. God has so formed the human mind that the perception of virtue awakens a sentiment of pleasure, and the presence or discovery of vice a feeling of disapprobation and disgust.

2. Look next into the history of Divine providence. Why has He been so mindful of man, and so careful of his comfort? Not, surely, to tempt him to in. gratitude against his bountiful Benefactor, or to encourage him in rebellion against His authority and law. No! the goodness of God is designed to lead them who are the objects of it unto repentance.

3. Turn, now, to the revelation of the gospel, and see if there be any statements or provisions there that tend to countenance or confirm the strange delusion with which sinners seek to allay the alarms of conscience. Was not the Son of God manifested to destroy the works of the devil? Vegas He not sent to bless us, in turning every one of us from our iniquities?

(John Johnston.)

I. In support of the first, or negative part of the proposition — THAT GOD IS NOT THE AUTHOR OF SIN OR TEMPTATION., I confine myself entirely to the argument suggested by the text, "God cannot be tempted with evil." There must be a certain analogy, or congenial resemblance, between every cause and its effect. We cannot find in the effect any attribute or quality which was not first inherent in the cause by which it was produced. How then can evil, moral evil, flow from the Divine nature, from which it is not only excluded, but to which it is directly opposite and contradictory?

II. In the text, TEMPTATIONS ARE POSITIVELY ASCRIBED TO THE LUSTS OF MEN; and therefore the guilt and misery arising from them must centre entirely in the person of the offender. Reflect upon that fatal hour when temptation assailed, and at last prevailed against you. What did you then feel? Why did you hesitate for a moment about gratifying the favourite passion? Did not another principle within you suggest danger, and hold you in suspense? Was not every concession to the tempting object extorted against the most earnest remonstrances, and the most awful forebodings of conscience? Lessons:

1. The doctrine, now illustrated, affords the strongest consolation and encouragement under the manifold dangers and trials to which we are exposed in the present state of probation and discipline. God tempts no man to sin. Omnipotent power and goodness are ever ready to interpose in the defence of struggling virtue.

2. From the doctrine of the text we may discern not only the weakness and folly, but the arrogance and impiety of those subterfuges and apologies to which sinners have recourse in order to extenuate or cancel their personal guilt.

3. Let us abhor every sentiment and expression tending so much as to insinuate that God is the author of temptation. Some errors may be set on foot while yet no more than the outworks of religion are attacked. But whatever misrepresents the perfections and moral government of God is immediately levelled against the foundation which supports the whole fabric of our faith.

(T. Somerville, D. D.)

Even a Christian master is especially careful not to throw temptations in the way, for instance, of his servants. He would not leave sums of money about, because it would be throwing temptation in their way. If he did it through accident, then the honest servant would preserve the money, and put it into the master's hands when he returned. If he purposely did it to try his servant, then he would be guilty if the servant took it; and if the man left it about for the very purpose, we know whose servant that master would be. It was nothing less than devilish to place the helmet and broadsword in sight of the imprisoned Joan of Arc, expecting that the sudden impulse of old and dear associations, the sudden spring of reviving habit, would lead her to put them on, and so break her word and forfeit her life. To think, then, that what a Christian master would not knowingly do, God would do, were blasphemy.

(W. W. Champneys.)

I. How SIN BEGINS. NOW here is a point on which a most profane idea is often held, which our text begins with contradicting. Sin, saws an old proverbial saying, is a child that nobody will own. Men are forward to commit it, but they are backward to acknowledge that they gave it birth. But "drawn away of his own lust," does the apostle say? Why does he not rather say" Drawn away by Satan"? Because the Lord is evidently aiming in this place to make men see that sin is their own doing — and that they are inexcusable in doing it. As some men are profane enough even to charge their sins upon the Lord, so many are glad, however, to lay all the blame of their transgressions at the door of Satan. "The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat." But no, says the doctrine of our text — you are self-tempters. It is your own lust that is to blame. However busy Satan is to ensnare you he has an active fellow-worker in your own ungodly bosom. God made man upright; but man has spoiled the nature which his God bestowed on him.

II. SIN'S PROGRESS. "Lust, when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin." Now this I call sin's progress, because the lust itself, that is to say, the desire of what is evil, is a sin as well as the act of sin which it brings forth. The law of God reaches to the heart. It says, "Thou shalt not covet." Evil desires, that is, when cherished in the heart, lead on to evil deeds.

III. THE END OF SIN. Many of those who practise it seem to think its end is peace. Lessons:

1. To lay the blame of sin at the right door.

2. To prize unspeakably the tender mercies of a Saviour, and to plead hard for them.

3. That we should "keep our hearts with all diligence, for out of them are the issues of life."

(A. Roberts, M. A.)

Here James traces the whole evil done by man, first, back to its proper source, and then forward to its final issue. He says, in this case the temptation is not from God; the inducement to sin, and the influence by which it is yielded to, are not from Him but from ourselves.

I. THE SOURCE OF SUCH TEMPTATION.

1. It does not originate with God. It is here clearly implied, on the one hand, that some are ready to say this, either with their lips or in their hearts. It has been supposed that the reference is to the fatalism which characterised many of the Jews; but for that there seems to be no good warrant. The error is common one, and has ever been found springing up, under this or that form, in the soil of our depraved nature. It appeared at a very early period, and is indeed coeval with the fall itself (Genesis 3:13). In every age men have sought to cast the burden off themselves, and if possible to implicate the great Author of their being in the impurities of their character and conduct. They have done it in various ways. Some have identified sin with God, with His very nature. They have espoused the Pantheistic philosophy, which makes good and evil alike emanate from Him, yea, alike constitute Him, be equally manifestations and features of Him, parts of the universal, all-embracing Deity. Not a few who stop short of that monstrous but fascinating system, yet bring matters to the same issue, so far as the responsibility of their vices and crimes is concerned. They attribute them to Divine suggestion. It has not been uncommon to trace the foulest deeds to ideas and impulses of heavenly origin. Less directly, but not less really, is the same thing done by those who find a shelter in their corrupt dispositions and desires, in those propensities and passions which strongly incite to and issue in evil courses. Genius has boldly, defiantly urged this plea in defence of irregular habits, of gross excesses, and rolled back on the Author of our being the guilt of the darkest misdeeds. Persons of this stamp have appealed to Him, as knowing that He has framed them with passions wild and strong, and have traced their wildest wandering to light from heaven (Burns). And what is perhaps worse, their blind and foolish admirers have endorsed the impious plea, and deemed it sufficient excuse for the foulest immorality and profanity to talk of the poet's galloping blood and quick nerves, of "the gunpowder in his composition," separating him from tame, cold precisions, and raising him far above the common rules of judgment and action. These parties forget that God made man upright, after His own image, without an evil tendency, without one lust, vanity, or imperfection in his constitution. Everything of the sort is the fruit of the fall, of the change wrought in us by apostasy, of our voluntary, wilful, presumptuous rebellion against the authority of heaven. All that is corrupt is of ourselves. The origin of it is human and Satanic; it is not, in whole or part, Divine. Others say, in effect, that they are tempted of God, because of the position they occupy, the circumstances in which they are placed, and the objects by which they are surrounded. High or low, rich or poor, young or old, learned or ignorant, we have each that in our condition which not only tries, but tempts; and for that is not the great Disposer of affairs, He who has fixed our position and appointed our lot, is not He responsible? He fills and directs that stream which is flowing all around, carrying us down by its constant, swollen, resistless current. How can we bear up against it, and if we are swept away by it, is it at all wonderful? God does it, and He could have ordered things far otherwise, He could have shielded us from all such malign influences. Those who entertain the thought overlook the fact that we have often very much to do with these circumstances ourselves. How common a thing is it to choose our own way, regardless of the will of God, and presumptuously to place ourselves in that situation, and among those objects, on which we afterwards cast the blame of the sins we there commit, of the errors and impurities into which we are there seduced! Further, these persons fail to realise the truth, that circumstances in themselves have comparatively little power over us, that they derive their mastery, not from what is in them, but what is in us — from the dispositions and desires on which they operate. And they forget that these very circumstances which are complained of are meant to furnish a wholesome discipline, to supply that moral and spiritual training which we need, and that in the exercise of reason and conscience — above all, by grace sought and obtained, we are to control, to govern them, to rise superior to them, and, instead of allowing them to be masters, make them our servants. Let no man then say that, in these respects or any others, he is tempted of God; let him guard against the most distant approach to such foul blasphemy. So far from anything of the kind, God sets before us the most powerful inducements to reject evil under every form, to avoid it as we should a serpent in our path. How authoritative the commands, how awful the sanctions of His law! while the operations of His providence, and indeed the very constitution of our being, which is His workmanship, supply us with the most convincing evidence that He hates sin and punishes its commission. James gives a reason for this, he founds it on the Divine nature itself. "For God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man." "He cannot be tempted with evil." He is infinitely far removed from it, raised above it, under all its forms. He is so because of the absolute perfection of His being and blessedness. He has no want to be supplied, no desire to be gratified. He can gain nothing, can receive nothing. His happiness is complete, absolute, admitting neither of diminution nor enlargement. What inducement, then, can evil present to Him, what bribe can it offer to such a being? "Neither tempteth He any man." The two statements are closely connected. The one follows from, and is based on, the other. He who cannot be tempted cannot tempt. He whose holiness shuts out all solicitation to evil will not, cannot present such solicitation. His spotless, glorious character is opposed equally to either supposition.

2. It originates with man himself. It springs from elements which have their seat in his own bosom. It rises from, it centres in, "lust." This term is not limited here, as it often is in common use among us, to sensual passion, to licentiousness. It is far more general and comprehensive. It denotes strong desire of any kind; and here, as often elsewhere, it means irregular, sinful desire — desire either of what is not lawful, or of what is lawful in an inordinate degree. It may be evil in its very nature, irrespective of extent, or it may be so only by reason of perversion and excess. There is much of this in every bosom. It is the corrupt principle in its various tendencies and motions — its striving, craving for certain objects and indulgences. It is the body of sin in its manifold appetites and members. Here is the primary, prolific source of transgression. The apostle says, "his own lust," and this is a significant and emphatic circumstance. Each person has a particular lust, a master-passion, an evil tendency, which has the chief influence in determining his conduct and moulding his character. All of us have sins that do more easily beset us, by reason of the special principles and propensities which bold sway in our bosom. One is governed by the love of pleasure, another by the love of power. Thin man is ambitious, that is covetous. Here it is the filthiness of the flesh, there it is the filthiness of the spirit, which is dominant. But what is brought out by "his own," is that the lust by which we are tempted is a thing strictly belonging to ourselves. It excludes the idea of foreign action or influence; it confronts and condemns the imagination that God is at all implicated in the matter. Our own lust is more to be dreaded than all Satan's assaults, though these are ever to be watched and feared. But the temptation in question, that which issues in sin, operates, takes effect, has its success in the manner here described. "When he is drawn away of his own lust and enticed." We take the first step in the direction of real and overt acts of disobedience when we allow ourselves to be drawn away and enticed by it; for it acts in both cases, brings about the latter step as well as the former, in this downward process. We break loose from the restraints of various kinds which have helped to hold us back from evil, and gradually yield to the enticements presented, to the fascinations of vanity or vice, of folly or wickedness. The one step precedes and prepares for the other.

(John Adam.)

It is natural for men, in the commission of sin, to design to themselves as much of the pleasure and as little of the guilt as possible; and therefore, since the guilt of sin unavoidably remains upon the cause and author of sin, it is their great business to find out some other cause, upon which to charge it, beside themselves.

1. What the apostle here means by being tempted.

2. What is intended by lust,

1. For the first of these: it is as certain that the Scripture affirms some men to have been tempted by God, and particularly Abraham, as that it is positively affirmed in the verse before the text, that God tempts no man. In the sense that it is ascribed to God, it signifies no more than a bare trial; as when, by some notable providence, He designs to draw forth and discover what is latent in the heart of man. In the sense that it is denied of God, it signifies an endeavour, by solicitations and other means, to draw a man to the commission of sin: and this the most holy God can by no means own, for it would be to take the devil's work out of his hands. But neither does this sense reach the measure of the word in this place; which imports not only an endeavour to engage a man in a sinful action, but an effectual engaging him with full prevalence, as to the last issue of the commission. And thus a man can be only tempted by his own lust; which is —

2. The second thing to be explained. By lust the apostle here means, not that particular inordination or vice that relates to the uncleanness of the flesh; but the general stock of corruption that possesses the whole soul, through all its respective faculties. But principally is it here to be understood of the prime commanding faculty of all, the will, as it is possessed and principled with sinful habits and depraved inclinations.

I. THE MISTAKEN CAUSES OF SIN; in the number of which we may reckon these that follow: —

1. The decree of God concerning things to come to pass is not a proper cause for any man to charge his sins upon; though perhaps there is nothing in the world that is more abused by weak and vulgar minds in this particular. It has no casual influence upon sinful actions; no, nor indeed upon any actions else: forasmuch as the bare decree, or purpose of a thing, produces or puts nothing in being at all. A decree, as such, is not operative or effective of the thing decreed. But it will be replied, Does not everything decreed by God necessarily come to pass? And yet I suppose that none will say that God's foreknowledge of a man's actions does, by any active influence, necessitate that man to do those actions; albeit, that this consequence stands unshakeable, that whatsoever God foreknows a man will do, that shall certainly be done. Otherwise, where is God's omniscience and His infallibility? God hath shown thee, O man, what is good and what is evil. He has placed life and death before thee. This is the rule by which thou must stand or fall: and no man will find that his fulfilling God's secret will, will bear him out in the breach of His revealed.

2. The influences of the heavens and of the stars imprint nothing upon men that can impel or engage them to do evil; and yet some are so sottish as to father their villainies upon these; they were born, forsooth, under such a planet, and therefore they cannot choose but be thieves or rebels all their life after. But admitting that the heavens have an influence upon inferior bodies, and that those glorious lights were not made only to be gazed upon, but to control as well as to direct the lesser world; yet still all communication between agent and patient must be in things that hold some proportion and likeness in their natures; so that one thing can pass no impression upon another, of a nature absolutely and in every respect diverse from it, provided it be also superior to it; and such a thing is a spirit in respect of body. Upon which grounds, what intercourse can there be between the stars and a soul?

3. Neither can any man charge his sins upon the constitution and temper of his body, as the proper cause of them. The body was made to serve and not to command. All that it can do is only to be troublesome, but it cannot be imperious. They are not the humours of the body, but the humours of the mind, to which men owe the irregularities of their behaviour. The sensitive appetites having their situation in the body, do indeed follow the peculiar complexion and temper of it; but reason is a thing that is placed so solely and entirely in the soul, and so depends not upon those inferior faculties; but though it is sometimes solicited by them, yet it is in its power, whether or no it will be prevailed upon. And for all the noise and tumult that is often raised amongst them; yet reason, like the uppermost region of the air, is not at all subject to the disturbances that are below. No man is made an adulterer, a drunkard, or an idle person by his body; his body indeed may incline him to be so, but it is his will only that makes him so. And besides, there have been some in the world, who by the conduct of their reason have made their way to virtue, through all the disadvantages of their natural constitution. Philosophy has done it in many, and religion may do it in all.

4. And lastly, to proceed yet higher: no man can justly charge his sins upon the devil, as the cause of them; for God has not put it into the power of our mortal enemy to ruin us without ourselves; which yet he had done, had it been in the devil's power to force us to sin. The Spirit of God assures us that he may be resisted, and that upon a vigorous resistance, he will fly. He never conquers any, but those that yield; a spiritual fort is never taken by force, but by surrender. It is confessed, indeed, that the guilt of those sins that the devil tempts us to, will rest upon him; but not so as to discharge us. He that persuades a man to rob a house is guilty of the sin he persuades him to, but not in the same manner that he is who committed the robbery. I shall remark this by way of caution: that though I deny any of these to be the proper causes of sin, yet it is not to be denied but that they are often very great promoters of sin, where they meet with a corrupt heart and a depraved will. And it is not to be questioned but that many thousands now in hell might have gone thither in a calmer and a more cleanly way at least, had they not been hurried on by impetuous temptations, by an ill constitution, and by such circumstances of life as mightily suited their corruption, and so drew it forth to a pitch of acting higher and more outrageous than ordinary. For there is no doubt but an ill mind in an ill-disposed body will carry a man forth to those sins, that otherwise it would not, if lodged in a body of a better and more benign temperament. As a sword, covered with rust, will wound much more dangerously, where it does wound, than it could do if it were bright and clean. All this is very true; and therefore, besides those internal impressions of grace, by which God sanctifies the heart, and effectually changes the will, many are accountable to His mercy for those external and inferior assistances of grace. As, that He restrains the fury of the tempter; that He sends them into the world with a well-tempered and rigthtly disposed body; and lastly, that He casts the course of their life out of most of the snares and occasions of sin: so that they can with much more ease be virtuous than other men. But on the other side, where God denies a man these advantages, and casts him under all the forementioned disadvantages of virtue, it is yet most certain that they lay upon him no necessity of sinning.

II. THE PROPER AND EFFECTUAL CAUSE OF SIN IS THE DEPRAVED WILL OF MAN, expressed here under the name of LUST. The proof of which is not very difficult; for all other causes being removed, it remains that it can be only this. We have the word of Christ Himself that it is from within, from the heart, that envyings, wrath, bitterness, adulteries, fornications, and other such impurities do proceed. I shall endeavour further to evince this by arguments and reasons.

1. The first shall be taken from the office of the will, which is to command and govern all the rest of the faculties; and therefore all disorder must unavoidably begin herb. The economy of the powers and actions of the soul is a real government; and a government cannot be defective without some failure in the governor.

2. The second argument shall be taken from every man's experience of himself and his own actions; upon an impartial survey of which he shall find, that before the doing of anything sinful or suspicious, there passes a certain debate in the soul about it, whether it shall or shall not be done; and after all argumentations for and against, the last issue and result follows the casting voice of the will.

3. A third reason is from this, that the same man, upon the proposal of the same object, and that under the same circumstances, yet makes a different choice at one time from what he does at another; and therefore the moral difference of actions, in respect of the good or evil of them, must of necessity be resolved into some principle within him; and that is his will.

4. The fourth and last reason shall be from this, that even the souls in hell continue to sin, and therefore the productive principle of sin must needs be the will. All the blowing of the fire put under a cauldron could never make it boil over, were there not a fulness of water within it. Some are so stupid as to patronise their sins with a plea that they cannot, they have not power to do otherwise; but where the will is for virtue, it will either find or make power.

III. THE WAY BY WHICH A CORRUPT WILL (here expressed by the name of lust) IS THE CAUSE OF SIN; and that is, by "drawing a man aside, and enticing him."

1. It seduces, or draws a man aside; it actually takes himself from the ways of duty: for as in all motion there is the relinquishment of one term before there can be the acquisition of another; so the soul must pass from its adherence to virtue before it can engage in a course of sin. Now the first and leading attempt of lust is to possess the mind with a kind of loathing of virtue, as a thing harsh and insipid, and administering no kind of pleasure and satisfaction. This being done, and the mind clear, it is now ready for any new impression.

2. The other course is by enticing; that is, by using arguments and rhetoric, to set off sin to him with the best advantage, and the fairest gloss. And this it does these two following ways:(1) By representing the pleasures of sin, stripped of all the troubles and inconveniences of sin. Bit now it is the act of lust to show the quintessence and the refined part of a sinful action, separate from all its dregs and indecencies, so to recommend it to the apprehension of a deluded sinner. Lust never deals impartially with the choice, so as to confront the whole good with the whole evil of an object; but declaims amply and magnificently of one, while it is wholly silent of the other.(2) Lust entices by representing that pleasure that is in sin greater than indeed it is;" it swells the proportions of everything, and shows them, as it were, through a magnifying-glass, greatened and multiplied by desire and expectation; which always exhibit objects to the soul, not as they are, but as they would have them be. Nothing cheats a man so much as expectation: it conceives with the air, and grows big with the wind; and like a dream, it promises high, but performs nothing. They are cursed like the earth, not only with barrenness, but with briars and thorns; there is not only a fallacy, but a sting in them: and consequently they are rendered worse than nothing; a reed that not only deceives, but also pierces the hand that leans upon it.But the exceeding vanity of every sinful pleasure will appear by considering both the latitude of its extent and the length of its duration.

1. And first, for the latitude or measure of its extent. It seldom gratifies but one sense at a time; and if it should diffuse a universal enjoyment to them all, yet it reaches not the better, the more capacious part of man, his soul: that is so far from communicating with the senses, that in all their revels it is pensive and melancholy, and afflicted with inward remorses from an unsatisfied, if not also an accusing conscience.

2. And then secondly, for its duration or continuance.

(R. South, D. D.)

The word "lust" signifies in this place every desire or inclination after things unlawful in any kind. The desire of unlawful pleasures, which is the vice of sensuality. The desire of unlawful riches, which is the foundation of unrighteousness, oppression, and fraud. The desire of obtaining honour by corrupt methods, which is the sin of ambition. The desire of being religious without true virtue, without the sincere love of God and of our neighbour, which is the foundation of idolatry, and of all superstitions. When by any of these desires a man is drawn away from what he knows is right, and enticed to do what the reason of his mind condemns, then is he led into sin.

I. In the nature of things EVERY SIN IS A DEVIATION FROM SOME RULE; and such a deviation as the person is sensible of at the time he acts, and knows that he ought not to have so acted. This it is that makes the action blameworthy in its own nature, and justly punishable by a wise and good governor. But, man being endued with rational faculties, and knowing well the difference between good and evil, is still placed in such a situation as to be frequently tempted to depart from reason, and to act contrary to what he knows is right.

II. Second place, to illustrate and confirm this doctrine BY COMPARING IT WITH SOME REMARKABLE EXAMPLES of sinful men and sinful actions, recorded in Scripture for our admonition. Men at all times, and in all places, when they have been seduced by sin, and begun to apprehend the ill consequences of it, have endeavoured to shift off the blame from themselves, and to lay at least part of the fault upon whatever else they could. But the Scripture, in every history there recorded, has always taken care to direct us with sufficient clearness to the true source of the evil. Our first parent, Eve, when she had eaten of the forbidden fruit, immediately her excuse was, "The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat." Saul comforted himself under his disobedience to an express command of God, with an imaginary intention of sacrificing the choice of his forbidden spoils unto the Lord his God. But the true motive that drew him away from his duty was a covetous desire of the spoil (1 Samuel 15:21, 24). David, in the committing of that great crime, the murder of Uriah, flattered himself with that shameful apology, because Uriah fell by the band of the Ammonites (2 Samuel 11:25). Ahab was willing to persuade himself that he had a right to Ramoth-Gilead, and that God too, by His prophets, encouraged the undertaking. Yet had not his ambition and his passions drawn him away, and blinded his attention, it was easy for him to have perceived that in this whole matter he was acting contrary to the will of God (1 Kings 22:8).

(S. Charke, D.D.)

1. The cause of evil is in a man's self, in his own lusts, the Eve in our own bosom. God gave a pure soul, only it met with viciously disposed matter.

2. Above all things, a man should look to his desires.

3. The way that lust takes to ensnare the soul is by force and flattery.(1) By violence.(a) When your desires will not endure the consideration of reason, but you are carried on by a brutish rage (Jeremiah 5:8).(b) When they grow more outrageous by opposition, and that little check that you give to them is like the sprinkling of water upon the coals, the fire burns more fiercely.(c) When they urge and vex the soul till fulfilled, which is often expressed in Scripture by a languor and sickness.(2) By flattery. This is one of the impediments of conversion — lust promises delight and pleasures (Job 20:12).(a) Learn to suspect things that are too delightful. That which you should look after in the creatures is their usefulness, not their pleasantness — that is the bait of lust.(b) Learn what need there is of great care. Noonday devils are most dangerous, and such things do us most mischief as betray us with smiles and kisses.

(T. Manton.)

We are tempted, it seems — "drawn" into sin. Who draws us? Not God. He is perfectly holy, and by a necessity of nature does good and not evil. God is for us; who is against us? There is indeed a tempter. The evil spirit has no power at all over any of us, except what we concede to him. As the prince of the power of the air, he could do a soul no harm: it is when he is welcomed within a man's own heart that he ensnares. So then, in the last resort, "every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed." From this striking figure we learn some specific features of the sad process. The two terms are literally, "drawn out, and hooked." The first expression does not yet mean drawn by the hook; it means rather drawn to the hook. There are two successive drawings, very diverse in character. The first is a drawing towards the hook, and the second is a dragging by the hook. The first is a secret enticement of the will, and the second is an open and outrageous oppression by a superior force, binding the slave and destroying him. The first process, as applied to hunting and fishing, is well known and easily understood. This part of the process is carried on with care and skill and secrecy. No noise is made, and no danger permitted to meet the eye of the victim. By smell or by sight, the fish or the wild animal is "drawn" from the safe, deep hiding-place in the bush or in the river. The victim, not perceiving the danger, is by its own "lust" — its own appetite — drawn to its doom. The next part of the process is the act of fixing the barbed hook in the victim's jaws. The word is "baited"; that is, enticed by the bait to swallow the hook — the hook that is in the first instance unsuspected. When the hook is fastened, there is another drawing; but oh, how diverse from the first! The angler does not now hide himself, and tread softly, and speak in a whisper. There is no more any gentleness. He rudely drags his helpless prey to shore, and takes its life. I have often seen the same process, with the same difference between its commencement and its conclusion, in the tempting of human souls. The best, the only real preventive against these baited hooks, is to be satisfied with a sweetness in which there are no sin and no danger. The human soul that is empty — that is not satisfied with the peace of God — is easily drawn into the pleasures of sin. In a certain Highland lake, I have been told, sportsmen at one season of the year expect no sport. There are plenty of fishes, but they will not take the bait. Some vegetable growth on the bottom at that period is abundant and suitable as food. I have observed, in the process of fishing, that on the part of the victim there are two successive struggles, both violent, both short, and both, for the most part, unavailing. When first it feels the hook, it makes a vigorous effort to shake itself free. But that effort soon ceases, and the fish sails gently after the retreating hook, as if it were going towards the shore with its own consent. What is the reason of its apparent docility after the first struggle? Ah, poor victim! it soon discovers that to draw against the hook, when the hook is fastened, is very painful. Then, when it feels the shore, and knows instinctively that its doom has come, there is another desperate struggle, and all is over. I think I have observed these two struggles, one at the beginning and one at the end, with the period of silent resignation between them, in the experience of an immortal man. There is an effort to resist the appetite, after the victim discovers that he is in its grasp. But the effort is painful, and is soon abandoned. "I will seek it yet again," is the silent resolution of despair. The struggle, with all the agonies of remorse, may be once more renewed when the waters of life grow shallow, and the soul is grazing the eternal shore. The result? Alas! the darkness covers it; we know it not. After the first drawing, which is soft and unexpected, the way of transgressors is hard. The fish with the hook in its jaws is the chosen glass in which the Scripture invites us to see it. The snare of intemperance is the one in which the victim is tormented, and made a show of openly, in sight of the world.

(W. Arnot.)

Of the two verbs used here to describe the temptational agency of lust, the former was originally a venatorial, the second a piscatorial term. Each has its own significance in the description. Before the wild beast can be captured it must be drawn out of its lair. It must be enticed away from its defences, out into the open, where it can be surrounded on all sides, where the assaults can be conducted with greater freedom, where all retreat will be cut off. So temptation will be most effectual when the soul can be enticed out of its retreat, when it exposes itself to the solicitations of evil, and puts itself at the mercy of its foes. When man has lost his adjustments, when his spiritual centre of gravity is disturbed, he is much more susceptible to the power of assaults made upon his integrity, and much more easily overthrown. This, then, is the first endeavour of the Epithumia to induce a change of locality and of environment, to urge man further away from the source of true security, to lead him to advance so far out into the place of exposure that he will fall an easy prey to his adversaries. The other figure carries us a step further. The angler baits his hook to catch the fish. He lures his unwary victim to its death. He offers in sight what he knows will surely attract, and hides within the barbed point which is to capture and to destroy. So in temptation there is this same combination of allurement and destruction. First comes the lure — pleasure, fame, wealth, honour, power, knowledge — the fatal barb which lurks within, so placed that to snatch at it is to swallow death. Man is allured, deceived; yet not unwittingly nor unwillingly. He is "baited from his own lust." His morbid appetite seeks out the forbidden fruit, and greedily plucks it.

(J. Caldwell, D. D.)

Thus James gives us the genesis of evil. It is in the individual man. The man is drawn away from good and caught in evil by his own lust. The writer lays special emphasis on this: it is "his own"; it is not of God — not of the devil — not of the world; it is of the man's self, and in the man's self. It is that in his self without the exhibition of which there would be nothing to which the work of the devil could appeal. It is most important to inculcate in all children that it is a mistake to lay their faults on any one else, even on the devil. That personage has enough to bear without having our sins laid upon him. No sinner can be reformed so long as he makes Satan or any one else responsible for his transgressions. I knew a child of strong character and strong passions who used to have paroxysms of rage. Her parents and others would sometimes tell her to open her mouth and let the bad spirit go under the table. The child was growing into the belief that she was the innocent victim of an unseen being, who was snottier person, and she was learning to shift all the responsibility upon that person, that person not herself. A friend one day taught her the fallacy of this; showed her that she was the only person responsible; that she herself was the bad spirit, and there was nothing to do but have that spirit, namely, herself, totally changed. She went to her closet and prayed — prayed as David prayed (Psalm 51.), when the conviction seized him that it was against God, and God only, that he had sinned. There was no third party in the transaction, From the hour the child had that conviction she was a changed person. So must we all feel. We can never resist temptation as we should, so long as we hold God or any one else responsible for our sins.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

Sin is a reality. It is not a weakness, but a power; a power which gnaws at the very core of life; a power encompassing and swaying the entire range of our being. It is an inward strife, a pain reaching even to the heart. Let us, then, seek first of all to discern the full significance of sin, that in sincere penitence we may turn away from it. It gives sin's history. The history naturally divides itself into three parts: — Sin.

I.In its origin.

II.In its essence.

III.In its results.

I. EVERY MAN IS TEMPTED, WHEN HE IS DRAWN AWAY OF HIS OWN LUST, AND ENTICED. "His own lust" — the emphasis lies there. Do not throw the blame on any external power; least of all upon God, the Holy One, who has written His law in your hearts! He condemns and punishes sin. He desires that you should be holy as He is holy. Do not seek for the guilt outside yourself, among the people who surround you. I know, indeed, how great is the power of custom, of education, of companionships, the power of men over men; bow overmastering are the first impressions of youth, made upon the unconscious spirit and the undeveloped will. But, nevertheless, all these external influences only tempt — they cannot compel; there is no inseparable connection between them and the soul. The tempting lust! Ah, how insignificant and harmless does it appear at first! How beautiful, in the brilliant colours of childhood! The lust after outward show, after enjoyment, after the possession of earthly things — selfish-ness, vanity, ambition! At first these seem only a childish playfulness, as it were, a snatching at things; a sweet gratification in the absorbing attractions of the outer world; but soon they become a habit.

II. But now, further, SIN IS BORN OF LUST. It surrounds us everywhere — nay, it is within us — it has taken possession of our senses and our thoughts. And in what does it essentially consist? In the opposition between the flesh and spirit! Selfishness and the desires of the senses — these are the two fundamental forms of all sin. You perhaps ask me if sin is indeed so universally powerful and universally diffused? Be assured, sin has manifold forms — refined and gross; concealed and bare; violent and torpid.

III. And so our text proceeds: "AND SIN, WHEN IT IS FINISHED, BRINGETH FORTH DEATH." That is the end — dissolution, ruin, death. And how does the corruption of the spirit show itself? Thus: — The conscience becomes dumb; the sense of spiritual realities dull; the nobler feelings of honour vanish; virtue is only an un-comprehended idea; goodness is only policy, or that which is approved by the lax judgment of so-called good society; truth is trampled under the feet of falsehood; and humanity becomes venal, and makes its bargain with the world. And these are the ruinous lineaments of the face of death — indifference, joylessness, hopelessness 1 And these not only take possession of the individual, but proceed further, and, in their moral ruin and destruction, bear violently away. everything which comes within the range of the sinful life: they destroy the entire house which is built upon the sand. Not yonder only, in the other world, are the punishment and recompense received; there is a Divine justice even upon this earth.

(Dr. Schwarz.)

I. THE BEGINNING OF SIN. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." This is the source of all evil. Before the act can be committed the purpose must be formed in the breast, which takes time, design, deliberation. Seduction, theft, perfidy, drunkenness, injustice, murder, the popular vices of the day, require design, arrangement, decision.

II. THE PROGRESS WHICH IT MAKES IN ITS INFLUENCE OVER THE HEART AND CHARACTER OF MAN.

1. The causes brought into operation to produce this. One is the popular reading of the age. Associations with those who have made some advances in vice.

2. Let me show how these principles advance. "When lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." No man can become suddenly wicked. At first there must be awful violence done to the conscience. But when you have once gone into this moral contamination, when you cast off the fear of man, no one is astonished, because previously to this you have cast off the fear of God.

III. THE END OF SIN.

1. The death of the body. "Death has passed upon all men, for all have sinned." But there is a natural tendency in sin to hasten this end. I read in my Bible, "Bloody and deceitful men shall not live out half their days." The glutton, the intemperate, the lascivious person, the debauchee, all these men shorten their days.

2. The death of the soul. And what is that? I cannot tell.(1) Allow me to make an appeal to those who are invested with parental authority. Beware lest by connivance and withholding due restraint, you become accessories to the ruin of your children.(2) Let me warn the young against the danger of yielding to the first temptation.

(T. East.)

1. Sin encroaches upon the spirit by degrees. Lust begetteth vigorous motions, or pleasing thoughts, which draw the mind to a full and clear consent; and then sin is hatched, and then disclosed, and then strengthened, and then the person is destroyed.(1) Oh, that we were wise, then, to rise against sin betimes! that we would "take the little foxes" (Song of Solomon 2:15), even the first appearances of corruption! A Christian's life should be spent in watching lust. Small breaches in the sea-bank occasion the ruin of the whole if not timely repaired.(2) This reproves them that boldly adventure upon a sin because of the smallness of it. Consider the danger to yourselves. Great faults do not only ruin the soul, but lesser; dallying with temptations is of a sad consequence. Caesar was killed with bodkins.

2. Lust is fully conceived and formed in the soul, when the will is drawn to consent; the decree in the will is the ground of all practice. Well, then, if lust hath insinuated into your thoughts, labour to keep it from a decree and gaining the consent of the will. Sins are the more heinous as they are the more resolved and voluntary.

3. What is conceived in the heart is usually brought forth in the life and conversation. "Lust, when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin." That is the reason why the Apostle Peter directeth a Christian to spend the first care about the heart — "Abstain from fleshly lusts," and then "have your conversations honest" (1 Peter 2:11, 12). As long as there is lust in the heart there will be no cleanness in the conversation; as worms in wood will at length cause the rottenness to appear.(1) Learn that hypocrites cannot always be hidden; disguises will fall off.(2) Learn the danger of neglecting lust and thoughts. If these are not suppressed, they will ripen into sins and acts of filthiness.(3) Learn what a mercy it is to be hindered of our evil intentions, that sinful consequences are stillborn, and when we wanted no lust we should want no occasion. Mere restraints are a blessing. We are not so evil as otherwise we would be.

4. The result and last effect of sin is death (Romans 6:21; Ezekiel 18:4). Draco, the rigid law-giver, being asked why, when sins were equal, he appointed death to all, answered he knew that sins were not all equal, but he knew the least deserved death.(1) It teacheth us how to stop the violence of lust; this will be death and damnation. OhQ consider it, and set it as a flaming sword in the way of your carnal delights. Observe how wisely God hath ordered it — much of sin is pleasant; aye I but there is death in the pot, and so fear may counterbalance delight. Another part of sin is serious, as worldliness, in which there is no gross act, and so there being nothing foul to work upon shame, there is something dreadful to work upon fear. Well, then, awaken the soul; consider what Wisdom saith (Proverbs 8:36). Why will you wilfully throw away your own souls? Sin's best are soon spent, the worst is always behind.(2) It showeth what reason we have to mortify sin, lest it mortify us. No sins are mortal but such as are not mortified; either sin must die or the sinner. The life of sin and the life of a sinner are like two buckets in a well — if the one goeth up the other must come down. When sin liveth the sinner must die. There is an evil in sin and an evil after sin. The evil in sin is the violation of God's law, and the evil after sin is the just punishment of it.

(T. Manton.)

I. Sin. Lust — that is, impure or inordinate desire, at first harlot-like, for that idea runs through the whole passage — draws away its victims with an art resembling that of a skilful fisher or hunter. Having so far worked on them, got them into its embrace, it conceives — as it were becomes pregnant. This is a decisive stage in the process. It determines all that follows. It leads at once to the bringing forth of sin, and by another step to the bringing forth of death. What, then, is its nature? What are we to understand by this conception? It is produced by the union of lust with the will, the passing of prompting into purpose, desire into determination. It takes place when the two meet and mingle, when inclination, instead of encountering resistance, secures acquiescence. It is consenting, yielding to the workings of corruption, and lending ourselves to the doing of its bidding. When, instead of praying and striving against evil stirring within us and seeking to lead us captive, we tolerate it, dally with it, let it gain strength, and finally obtain the entire mastery, then the impure, criminal union is consummated. The actual transgression straightway ensues. It is sin in the strongest sense of the word — sin actual, obvious, complete in its nature. But are we to infer from this that there is nothing of the kind until it is brought forth? Is all faultless which precedes the birth of the monster? No.

1. There can be no doubt as to the nature and desert of the conception. It is the giving ourselves up to be voluntary slaves of that law which is in the members. We thereby embrace the evil, and it matters little whether action follow or not. He who plans a robbery is a real thief, though in point of fact he may not take away a farthing's worth of his neighbour's property. He may have been defeated in his design; he may not have found the fitting opportunity; he may have failed in courage when the resolution had to be carried into effect. The intention was there, and that is enough; for while human tribunals can deal only with palpable acts, the Divine law is fettered by no such restrictions. Suppose we are not answerable for the rising up of the foul harlot lust, for the blandishments it practises, we certainly are for not rejecting its offers and escaping from its impure embraces. The will is not overmastered by force, but is seduced from its allegiance, and plays the traitor.

2. It is not otherwise with the lust that conceives. We find sin lurking in its bosom, marking every one of its forms and motions. The effect reveals the nature of the cause by which it is produced. The two necessarily correspond. The fruit is good or bad according as the tree on which it grows is the one or the other. Were the fountain-head pure, the waters which issue from it would not be so poisonous. And the testimonies of Scripture on the subject are explicit. One of the commandments of the moral law is directed against coveting — that is, lusting after what is our neighbour's. The works of the flesh enumerated by Paul largely consist of inward dispositions, mental tendencies. Jesus Himself represents evil thoughts as among the things which defile a man. What is often more involuntary, instinctive, than hasty, causeless anger? and yet He makes it a species of murder, and declares that a person chargeable with it is in danger of the judgment. But we are not left to inference, however direct and obvious. We have this concupiscence expressly called sin (Romans 7:7, 23; Romans 8:7). Does any one ask, How can I be held responsible for a thing thus belonging to the very constitution of my being that lies beyond the control of the will, at least in its first stages, in those early risings and actings of it we are now considering? Lust is a feature and function of our inner man as fallen, depraved; and that inner man, as such, we may not trace to God, the great Maker and Governor. He created us in His own image, and we lost, defaced its Divine features by our wilful and inexcusable apostasy. And, further, let it be noted how much of our lust is, in a far more direct and personal way still, the workmanship of our own hand, the fruit of our own doings. We produce and foster it, either entirely originating it or immensely strengthening it; in short, we make it what it actually is by association and indulgence, by the scenes we frequent, the companions we choose, the habits we form, the lives we lead.

II. DEATH. This is the ultimate issue. "And sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." Sin itself is the offspring of lust; but in turn it becomes a parent. In due time it gives birth to a child, "a grizzly terror," a dark, devouring monster. This takes place when sin is finished; and the most important question here is, How are we to understand that expression? James, we apprehend, speaks here of the act of sin which follows the submission of the will to impure or inordinate desire. Whenever lust conceives it brings forth sin; and that child in every instance grows up, and on arriving at maturity, in turn becomes a parent, its issue being death. There is no transgression which is not pregnant with this hideous progeny. The law connects every violation" of its precepts with death, as its righteous, inevitable punishment. The execution of the sentence may be long deferred, but nothing is more certain; and indeed it is in part inflicted from the time the sin is committed. The evil deed passes away as soon as done, but the guilt remains, staining and burdening the conscience; and not only so, for a virus proceeds from it, an active, malign influence which continues to operate, and that in an ever-widening, augmenting degree. The natural tendency of it is to darken the mind and harden the heart, to increase the strength of depravity and fasten more firmly its yoke, to lead on to repetitions of the same act, and to others still more heinous in their nature. It has wrapped up in it multiplied evils which develop themselves more and more fully, advancing from bad to worse, unless in so far as they are checked and overcome by counteracting influences. But it is not finished, does not produce its mature and final result, until it issue in inevitable separation from God and the endurance of His wrath to all eternity (Romans 6:16, 21, 23). How terrible the death which sin, when finished, thus brings forth! That of the body is but the passage to the region where it reigns in all its horrors. Its nature will not be fully manifested, its work will not be fully done, until it brings forth its brood of future terrors, the pains of hell for ever. James adds an equally tender and solemn warning — "Do not err, my beloved brethren." These words point both backward and forward. They respect what goes before, and introduce what comes after, by way of confirmation. They form the transition from the one to the other, and so may be viewed in connection with either. There is here implied exposure to error. We are prone to go astray as to the origin of temptation; for that is the matter in hand, and to which reference is made by the apostle. The language intimates not less the danger of error in this matter. It is not a light thing to fall into such a mistake. On the contrary, it is perilous in the extreme. It perverts our views of the Divine character; it deadens the sense of sin; it renders us blind and insensible to the only effectual remedy; it fosters pride, self-deception, and fatal delusion. It is pregnant with evils of incalculable magnitude and eternal duration.

(John Adam.)

In this passage we have held up before us the genesis of death. Now, the difficulty is to know whether the death spoken of refers to the spirit or the body. In a large number of cases in Scripture the word refers to spiritual death. But there are passages in which the word "death" seems to refer to that of the body. I am disposed to regard the passage before us in this way, and that for two reasons. First, St. James is a writer who deals chiefly with the outward and visible; and a second reason may be found in the fact that he is here speaking of a form of sin whose results are emphatically, though not exclusively, physical. Lust is the enemy of the body. There are senses, then, in which bodily death is the result of sin. Not in all senses. We must be careful to limit the statement that the death of the body is the result of sin. We are told that "the wicked do not live out half their days." If there bad been no wickedness men would have lived out all their days. In the midst of life there would not have been death, but only at the end of life-when its appointed term had been reached. There would have been no death from disease, but only from what we call the decay of nature. I do not speak positively on this matter. The evidence is not sufficient to do so. I only give this as my conception of the subject. It is significant, too, that our Lord, the only sinless one ever seen on our earth), did not, so far as we can judge from the record, suffer from any disease. Nor must we connect too closely bodily disease with personal sin. in many a case the life begins with a diseased or feeble frame inherited from others. But none the less it is true that the connection between disease and sin is both real and close. We think of consumption as the most fruitful cause of the premature mortality in our land. It does slay its thousands every year; but if it slays its thousands, sin slays its tens of thousands, whilst no small proportion even of what we call consumption is traceable either directly or indirectly to sin. Men of the world talk glibly of young men sowing their wild oats. They are silent as to the harvest which springs therefrom. Were such sins to cease out of our land a marvellous change would come over the health of the nation. A complete crusade against disease must include spiritual as well as sanitary weapons. Minds as well as bodies diseased must have their ministry. We must fight the lust within which leads to sin and, at last, to death. Now, how is this fruitful source of disease and death to be grappled with and overcome? The first essential is that we should feel that it must be dealt with. That was the first step taken in relation to other causes of disease. There was a time when men regarded epidemics like cholera as visitations of God — punishments for sin; and so long as this was the feeling nothing was done. All that men did was to pray for their removal. And when men realise that the most fruitful and constant cause of disease and mortality is sin, they will see that these can cease only as the sin producing them is overcome. There are those who say, "Teach all alike the facts of physiology — let men know all about their bodies, and they will then preserve them from defilement." I have not a particle of faith in such a remedy. Knowledge of the body is no preservation; if it were, the people whose chief business is to understand the body would not need the warning now before us: "Then, when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is full grown, bringeth forth death." Is it thus? Careful inquiry has satisfied me that the students of medicine in our great hospitals are not purer, even if they are as pure, as youths in other walks of life. There are others who say, "Trust to education. Increased knowledge will bring about purer ways. As schools and scholars multiply vice will decrease." Doubtless some forms of vice will decrease. In certain realms knowledge will accomplish much. But no one who knows much of life will say that this is one of those realms. It is not knowledge that is needed. It is the impulse which will prompt to the good, the constraint which will hold us from the evil. There is no force mighty enough that I have ever heard of to grapple with sin save the gospel. Christ alone raises a barrier strong enough to resist the onslaughts of this great enemy. And why is it thus?

1. Because the Christian faith makes us realise that there is a Divine Spirit within us which renders holy even the temple of the body in which it dwells.

2. The Christian faith alone holds up an ideal lofty enough to keep us from impurity.

3. By the constraint of His peerless love He constrains us to live not to ourselves, yielding not to our lower impulses and passions, but unto Him who died for us and rose again.

(W. G. Herder.)

The word here translated "lust" might be more aptly rendered concupiscence, that fleshly principle which seems to have been engendered in the hearts of our first parents at the instant of committing the primal sin; and which is the root of all that is sinful and irregular in our thoughts, words, and actions. The seeds of sin are lodged in the bosom of every infant, and naturally grow up to death. And even those in whom the counteracting principle of Divine grace has done its work most thoroughly are yet made painfully sensible, from time to time, that the flesh, or natural corruption, so "lusteth against the Spirit," that if they do not yield to its wicked solicitations, they are nevertheless greatly hindered from doing the good they would in the manner they would. Thoughts and wishes that savour of original depravity force their way into our minds, and would fain take possession of our will, before we are almost aware. But observe, it is not the first incursion of such thoughts and wishes that makes us actual sinners, though it proves our sinful nature. Evil desire does not conceive, does not become the mother of sin, until married to the will. The wicked inclination has become a fixed purpose; the fixed purpose has been consummated; and now it only remains for retribution to follow. And that retribution is set forth, by a similar figure to what was used before, as the child of sin. Sin being "finished," being ripe and strong and active, and perhaps having signalised itself by many appropriate feats, becomes the parent of death. It fixes a deadly sting in the conscience; is frequently the cause of a premature and violent death among men; and hands over its wretched victim to eternal death by God's righteous judgment. We go for our first example to Eve, the mother of mankind. Concupiscence has now conceived sin; and sin is not long in coming to the birth. And, oh, how quickly does sin produce death! The dissolution of soul and body indeed is somewhat delayed by Divine compassion. But shame has come; for Adam and his wife see themselves to be naked, and gird fig-leaves about their loins. Fear has come; for they dare not meet the Almighty, as aforetime, but slink away, and try to hide themselves. Disease is come; for the principles of decay are even now at work in them, and they have already set out on their journey to the grave. Go on to Cain, and see how another form of concupiscence proceeds. In his case it is envy. A deadly malice is conceived; and so, when some occasion presents itself — a very small one would suffice — to set the bad passion in a flame, he brings forth the sin that has long been breeding within him, and sheds a brother's blood. Wretched man I that innocent blood is not wholly drunk up by the ground. It has gone up to heaven, and cried for vengeance. It is sprinkled on the murderer's conscience; and henceforth Cain's life is a living death. Then Ahab, what a striking instance does he present of the effect of covetousness being nourished instead of stifled. I must allude to one other form of natural corruption — I mean, impure desire. Of the sins and calamities that grow out of this headlong appetite, when it is not held in by the strongest moral and religious curbs, David has furnished a mournful example in his own person. Oh, what would he not have given, when the Law poured a stream of fiery wrath into his conscience, and incest and murder became the furies of his house, what would he not then have given to undo what he had done!

(J. N. Pearson, M. A.)

A large oak-tree was recently felled in the grove adjoining Avondale, near the centre of which was found a small nail, surrounded by twenty-nine cortical circles, the growth of as many years. The sap, in its annual ascents and descents, had carried with it the oxide from the metal, till a space of some three or four feet in length, and four or five inches in diameter, was completely blackened. Is not this a striking illustration of sin as it exists in the hearts of many sincere Christian, s? The nail did not kill the tree; it did not prevent growth; it did not destroy its form and beauty to the eye of the casual observer; but year after year it was silently spreading its influence in the interior of the tree. So, after a believer has been justified by faith in a crucified Saviour, he is made conscious of inherent evil. He may be sensible of pride, envy, ambition, worldly desires, impatience, anger, and unbelief. Should he fail to apply for deliverance to the all-cleansing blood of Jesus, such inherent evils will remain, year after year, corroding and corrupting the seat of his affection and desires. His outward profession may be steady and consistent. His religious life may be continued. There may be growth in religious knowledge, and increased fixedness in religious habits. And yet sin, though hidden, may be percolating through his thoughts and at the end of thirty, forty, or fifty years, he may still be sensible that his nature is not thoroughly renewed.

(T. Brackenbury.)

The trees of the forest held a solemn parliament, wherein they consulted of the wrongs the axe had done them. Therefore they enacted that no tree should hereafter lend the axe wood for a handle on pain of being cut down. The axe travels up and down the forest, and begs wood of the cedar, ash, oak, elm, and even the poplar, not one would lend him a chip. At last he desired as much as would serve him to cut down the briars and bushes, alleging that these shrubs did suck away the juice of the ground, hinder the growth and obscure the glory of the fair and goodly trees. Herein they were content to give him so much; but, when he had got the handle, he cut themselves down, too! These be the subtle reaches of sin. Give it but a little advantage, on the fair promise to remove thy troubles, and it will cut down thy soul also. Therefore resist beginnings.

(T. Adams.)

Nothing here reaches maturity in a moment. Things begin to be, they grow, they ripen. It is so in nature, in character, and in the moral world. Sin is a growth; it matures, and then its fruit is death. The growth of sin may be slow at first, but it ripens fast as the time of harvest draws nigh.

I. The game of chance finds its maturity in the abandoned gambler.

II. Indulgence in the cup is matured in the sot.

III. Covetousness finds its maturity in the swindler, the thief, the robber.

IV. Lasciviousness has its maturity in the pollutions and obscenities of the brother.

V. Profanity has its maturity in those unrestrained blasphemies which have sometimes been uttered at the very juncture when life was going out.

VI. The growth of infidelity may be traced from its low beginnings to the same destructive maturity.

VII. So we may trace the sin of lying, from the first instance of prevarication on to the fixed habit of dauntless and deliberate perjury. Conclusion:

1. How may we know when sin has approached nigh to maturity?

(1)Maturity in sin stuns the sensibility of conscience.

(2)Maturity in sin progressively excludes shame.

2. The subject addresses itself to parents.

(1)We should be careful not to corrupt our children by example or precept.

(2)If we love our children, we shall be careful and watchful that others do not corrupt or lead them astray.

(3)In view of this subject, be warned not to let any sin ripen in your heart.

(Daniel A. Clark.)

St. James tells us that, finally, all "sin" brings forth "death"! And I believe this to be true in many senses, that death has a Protean form.

1. It is quite certain that every allowed sin — of any kind — kills the power of the perception of truth. I might put it more strongly still. Sin weakens, and tends to destroy, every power we possess. Physical sin weakens physical strength. And both physical and mental sin weaken both mental and spiritual powers. And if the weakening process is allowed to go on, it will weaken till it kills! It will go on till it "brings forth death"! This is the result of two causes.(1) In the first place, by natural cause and effect, whatever weakens the moral condition, weakens the whole man. It weakens the action of the brain and of the heart; and so affects the whole being.(2) But still more, all the perception of spiritual truth depends upon the operation of the Holy Ghost; and each sin, grieving the Holy Ghost, causes Him to withdraw I-Its assisting power; and, in the same degree, in which He withdraws from us, we are left impotent, and incapable of understanding, or even seeing truth. One habitually allowed sin will deaden the grace both of the mind and the heart, till, by more and more withering processes, the grace of both will die! Why are so many young men and young women prone to infidelity? Why have they grown sceptical of old and familiar truths which were dear to their parents, and were once dear to themselves? Look at their lives, their worldliness, their frivolity, their private habits, their secret or their open sins! There is the reason. Infidelity is a deadening thing. And "sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth that death."

2. Another consequence of any indulged sin is, that it necessarily involves some concealment, if not further positive sin. It cannot be compatible with a perfectly open character. No sin can go on without some hiding; and that hiding of one thing fosters a reservation, and an uncandidness, and untruthfulness in the whole life. And if once this openness goes, almost everything goes with it! Self-respect is essential to make life worth the living. But who can feel self-respect who is conscious of a hidden sin? The whole world may respect him; but self must bleach and tremble! And sin — any habit or affection which is unsanctioned by God and conscience — is destructive of all pure love. True love is too sacred a thing to stay in a breast with wrong deeds or wicked actions! The wrong love kills the good love. It "beings forth death"; and the good love dies. And what is love worth which is always carrying about with it a bad conscience? And who, that is tampering with any sin, whatever may be the service of his life, can escape a bad conscience? What — if all be happy and prosperous outside — and that conscience is gnawing within a man? You are praised by a great many people, and conscience tells you all the while you would not have that praise if they but knew everything! What is all the praise but a very mockery! You are trusted; but you do not deserve that trust! You go on your knees, and say your prayers, but you feel all the while, with that secret sin in the heart, no prayer will avail. "If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." So sin kills prayer. A life — a real life — is to be useful, and do good to others. But if a person is living in any sin, that sin will paralyse, if not the will, certainly the power, to live to any good purpose. The consciousness of sin will always come across his mind, when he is speaking, checking him, incapacitating him. "Who am I to speak?" I, who am living myself so sinfully! And men are keen judges of each other. They very soon discover what is unreal in all your fine talking! And can God bless any effort that such a man makes? He may speak as an angel; but God has not sent him. This sin will turn his most living words to death!

3. But still more, when that man thinks of his own death, will he not foresee and know how that sin which he is now allowing will come up to his memory! How it will be a thorn in his dying pillow! And what a double dying will that "death" be — when the present "sin brings forth," at the end, its deathly power, to double and increase, a thousand-fold, the pangs of dying! But yet further, and far above all, that "sin" is wounding his own Saviour; and the more you confess it, and the more you hate it, as a Christian, the more you see how it wounds Him. It brings "death" on the Son of God! And no less it is grieving that Holy Spirit who has drawn him so often, and strove with him so patiently and so tenderly! And how can his soul live if that Spirit goes? And it wrongs his Father in heaven. And how can he call himself God's child, or plead the children's right, or claim a Father's love, at the hand of a wronged and outraged God? It kills his sonship! So "sin" — any one indulged sin even now — will be always sapping life, and weakening faith, till faith can believe nothing, and, removing all consciousness, "brings forth" the "death" of hope and heaven! And that is not all.

4. "Sin" is not "finished" yet. All sin has in it a necessity to increase. Sin makes sin. One barrier broken down, the stream of evil rushes on with a greater force; and another barrier giving way, the current swells, till it scarcely knows a check. But what will "sin finished" be? What will it be when, stripped of its soft and beautiful colours, it stands out, without a mask, in its true and native form? What a monster will every, least, sin look beside Perfect Holiness.

(James Vaughan, M. A.)

In looking at the allegory as a whole, we note —

1. Its agreement as to the relation of sin and death with the teaching of St. Paul (Romans 5:12).

2. Its resemblance to like allegories in the literature of other nations, as in the well-known Choice of Hercules that bears the name of Prodicus, in which Pleasure appears with the garb and allurements of a harlot.

3. Its expansion in the marvellous allegory of Sin and Death in Milton's "Paradise Lost," where Satan represents Intellect and Will opposed to God, Sin its offspring, self-generated, and Death the fruit of the union of Mind and Will with Sin. In the incestuous union of Sin and Death that follows, and in its horrid progeny, Milton seems to have sought to shadow forth the shame and foulness and misery in which even the fairest forms of sin finally issue.

(Dean Plumptre.)

The working of sin does not end with the angry speech, the lie, the act of dishonesty or sensual indulgence: it hardens, darkens, debases the nature, renders the heart opener than before to all evil influences, and less open to all good; and unless the Divine mercy intervene, will certainly at last yield as its result death, in the most comprehensive and awful sense of that word. From the nature of things, death, in the great Bible use of the term — blight and desolation over the whole man, spirit, soul and body — is the consequence of sin. Sin renders intercourse with God, who is the Fountain of life, impossible. It consists in the exercise of feelings that in their own nature are utterly inconsistent with true happiness; and it increases constantly in strength, in malignity, in power to destroy the peace of the soul. Death follows sin as naturally, and by as constant a law, as the deadly nightshade bears poison berries. Besides, looked at apart from these essential tendencies of sin, the relation which it bears to conscience and to the justice of God renders the connection between it and death — between iniquity and misery — indissoluble. Death is "the wages of sin," due to it in justice. Under the righteous administration of the affairs of the universe by God, there is the same obligation in justice that sin should be followed by death, as that a labourer should receive the recompense he has been promised and has worked for. Sin is spiritual death, and every act of sin intensifies the spiritual deadness; to sin, and sin alone, is due that awful and mysterious change which severs soul from body, and which we commonly call death; and when sin is "finished" — when it is allowed to go on to its legitimate issues — "it bringeth forth" that intensity of misery, transcending our present powers of conception, which John calls "the second death," and which the Lord Himself, the Faithful Witness, describes as "outer darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

(R. Johnstone, LL. B.)

Mr. Spurgeon says that he saw, while on a visit to the gardens of Hampton Court, many trees almost entirely covered, and well-nigh strangled by the huge coils of ivy, which were wound about them like the snakes about the unhappy Laocoon. There is no untwisting the folds; they in their giant grip are fast fixed, and the rootlets of the climbers are constantly sucking the life of the trees. There was a day when the ivy was a tiny aspirant, only asking a little aid in climbing; had it been denied, then the tree need not have become its victim, but by degrees the humble weakling grew in strength and arrogance, and at last it assumed the mastery, and became the destroyer. Just the same with the beginning of sin; the least little act of disobedience, it may be a lie, then another, then something else, and they become alarmingly frequent, and each time a little more wicked until they gain the mastery over us, and overwhelm us, and at last drag our souls down to hell.

Many years ago I saw in a museum around stone, as large as a cannonball and quite round. It had been cut through by tools to see what was inside; and what was found? Right in the centre was a little rusty nail. A card stated that this stone had been found in the stomach of a horse. It had first swallowed that little nail, then petrifying matter had gathered round it little by little, till at length it had reached this size and destroyed the life of the animal. So in the end sin will destroy the sinner.

(W. Arnot, D. D.)

The bosom sin in grace exactly resembles a strong current in nature, which is setting full upon dangerous shoals and quicksands. If in your spiritual computation you do not calculate upon your besetting sin, upon its force, its ceaseless operation, and its artfulness, it will sweep you on noiselessly, and with every appearance of calm, but surely and effectually to your ruin. So may we see a gallant ship leave the dock, fairly and bravely rigged, and with all her pennons flying; and the high sea, when she has cleft her way into it, is unwrinkled as the brow of childhood, and seems to laugh with many a twinkling smile, and when night falls the moonbeam dances upon the wave, and the brightness of the day has left a delicious balminess behind it in the air, the ship is anchored negligently and feebly, and all is then still save the gentle drowsy gurgling, which tells that water is the element in which she floats, but in the dead of the night the anchor loses it hold, and then the current, deep and powerful, bears her noiselessly whither it will; and in the morning the wail of desperation rises from her decks, for she has fallen on the shoal, and the disconsolateness of the dreary twilight, as the breeze springs with the daybreak and with rude impact dashes her planks angrily against the rock, contrasts strangely with the comfort and peacefulness of the past evening. Such was the doom of Judas Iscariot. Blessed with the companionship of our Lord Himself, dignified with the apostleship, and adorned with all the high graces which that vocation involved, he was blinded to the under-current of his character, which set in the direction of the mammon of unrighteousness, and which eventually ensured for him an irretrievable fall.

(Dean Goulburn.)

There is more bitterness following upon sins ending than ever there was sweetness flowing from sins acting. You that see nothing but well in its commission will suffer nothing but woe in its conclusion. You that sin for your profits will never profit by your sins.

What a frightful picture James paints! Desire has successfully solicited the will to an impure embrace. In the unblessed union the child, Sin, is conceived and finally brought forth. It is a little one. It may be as pretty and as playful as a tiger's kitten. But it grows. When Sin, which is so vigorous, has attained its growth, it becomes a dreadful parent, and its fearful offspring is Death. Before a man sins let him consider this tremendous genealogy. The sinner is the father of his own sin, and the grandfather of his own death!

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

When Nicephorus Phocas had built a strong wall about his palace for his own security in the night-time, he heard a voice crying to him, "O, emperor! though thou build thy wall as high as the clouds, yet if sin be within, it will overthrow all."

: —

I. WE ARE LIABLE TO ERR.

1. From the weakness of our understandings, and the limited operation of the human faculties.

2. From the awfully mysterious subjects to which our attention is directed.

3. From the impositions and cheats practised upon us.

II. IT IS NOT NECESSARY. If error were involuntary, it would be unnecessary to guard us against it. We need not err —

1. Because we have a comprehensive and an all-sufficient directory.

2. Because we have a perfect Pattern and Exemplar.

3. Because we have an infallible Guide to conduct us into all truth.

III. WE SHOULD RE ON OUR GUARD AGAINST ERROR.

1. Because error is discreditable.

2. Because error is uncomfortable.

3. Because error is unsafe.

(Sketches of Sermons.)

1. It is not good to brand things with the name of error till we have proved them to be so. After he had disputed the matter with them, he saith, "Err not." General invectives make but superficial impressions; show what is an error, and then call it so. Truly that was the way in ancient times. Loose discourses lose their profit. Blunt iron, that toucheth many points at once, doth not enter, but make a bruise; but a needle, that toucheth but one point, entereth to the quick.

2. We should as carefully avoid errors as vices; a blind eye is worse than a lame foot, yea, a blind eye will cause it; he that hath not light is apt to stumble (Romans 1:26); first they were given up "to a vain mind," and then "to vile affections." Many, I am persuaded, dally with opinions, because they do not know the dangerous result of them: all false principles have a secret but pestilent influence on the life and conversation.

3. "Do not err"; that is, do not mistake in this matter, because it is a hard thing to conceive how God concurreth to the act, and not to the evil of the act; bow He should be the author of all things, and not the author of sin; therefore he saith, however it be difficult to conceive, yet "Do not err."(1) You see, then, what need you have to pray for gifts of interpretation, and a "door of utterance" for your ministers, and a knowing heart for yourselves, that you may not be discouraged by the difficulties that fence up the way of truth. observeth that the saints do not pray, Lord, make a plainer law, but, Lord, open my eyes, that I may see the wonders of Thy law; as David doth.(2) It showeth how much they are to blame that darken truth, and make the things of God the more obscure.

4. Again, from that "Do not err." Take in the weightiness of the matter. Ah! would you err in a business that doth so deeply intrench upon the honour of God? The mistake being so dangerous, he is the more earnest. Oh! do not err. There is nothing more natural to us than to have ill thoughts of God, and nothing more dangerous; all practice dependeth upon it, to keep the glory of God unstained in your apprehensions.

5. From that "my beloved brethren." Gentle dealing will best become dissuasives from error. Certainly we bad need to use much tenderness to persons that differ from us, speak to them in silken words. Where the matter is like to displease, the matter should not be bitter: pills must be sugared, that they may go down the better: many a man hath been lost through violence: you engage them to the other party.

(T. Manton.)

I. MEN ERR BY ATTACHING GREATER IMPORTANCE TO THE AFFAIRS OF THIS LIFE, THAN TO THOSE OF ETERNITY. HOW many and great privations and dangers will the warrior pass through to gain the honour of a victory I Yet to conquer himself, to win a kingdom that cannot be moved — this never engaged his serious thoughts, never excited his desire,

II. MEN DECEIVE THEMSELVES BY THE HOPE OF A DEATH-BED REPENTANCE. IS it not highly presuming on the patience of God when we expect that God will grant us "repentance unto life" eternal, in the day of sickness, after we have spent our best days in the service of sin?

III. MEN ERR IN THEIR VIEW OF THE NATURE, THE EVIL, AND THE CONSEQUENCE OF SIN. Every sin, how small or insignificant soever it may seem to us, is an act of black ingratitude for multiplied mercies. It is a provoking of the wrath of God. Again, every sin, however secretly committed, will be brought to light in the day of judgment. The sins of omission as well as the sins of commission; the sins of the heart as well as the sins of the life; all will then be brought forward against every impenitent sinner, and exhibited to an assembled world. The pleasures of sin for a season are purchased at too dear a rate. What are the luxuries of life which" drown the soul in perdition," when contrasted with their reward — an eternity of anguish!

IV. MEN ERR IN THEIR VIEW OF "THE DIVINE LAW" THAT IS, THE MORAL LAW. They are not aware that the law of God "is spiritual'; that it extends to the secret chambers of the heart; that it condemns everything that the sinner does, says, or thinks, because it is not done, said, or thought, as the law requires. Multitudes erroneously imagine that the law is of no force, or, at least, that its exactions are greatly relaxed, since the death of Christ. This is a fundamental. The law of God, being a transcript of His own unchangeable holiness, is itself unchangeable. It will be the standard by which the righteous Judge will at the last day critically try all actions, words, and affections of men.

V. MEN ERR AND DECEIVE THEMSELVES IN THE VIEW OF THEIR OWN CHARACTER. They imagine that though they are not what they ought to be, yet they are not so bad as others, and have a good heart, and mean well. If they are wrong, what must become of thousands? Some conclude that their state is good, because they are born of Christian parents, educated in a Christian land, admitted to Christian ordinances (Revelation 3:17).

VI. MEN ERR IN THEIR APPREHENSION OF THE CHARACTER OF GOD. They think Him to be altogether such an one as themselves. They venture upon sin, and presumptuously flatter themselves that God is not so rigid as to notice everything they do amiss. They foolishly conclude that because the Lord delayeth the execution of His threatenings, He will not pour out His fury on the ungodly. Application:

1. To those who may be under the influence of self-deception. If you are deceived, you neither will seek safety nor apprehend any danger: and if you are not undeceived before you die, you will be awfully convinced, but too late, of your fatal error.

2. To those who feel the vast importance of their souls' concerns, and are anxious to be preserved from error. Do you abandon the vain refuge of lies in which you once sought shelter? If it be so, we may pronounce your case a hopeful one. Yet rest not in present attainments; but press forward to the mark. Examine yourselves. Adopt the prayer of the Psalmist (Psalm 139:23, 24).

(E. Edwards.)

This verse emphasises the importance of having correct views of God. In regard to other things, wander into the forests of falsehood so far as one may, the man who holds the truth as to God can never be finally lost. And yet how few seem to appreciate that. Any philosophy of physical science is unsound and untrustworthy in proportion to its holding unsound relations to the truth as to God. The same is true in civil life: heresies in doctrine, errors in morals, and wrongs in life are to be traced almost invariably to some mistake of the truth as to God. Let a man be right here, and he has formed a hasp on which he may bang the first link of any chain of thought or action or life which he may be able to forge in time and in eternity. Do not wander from the great central truth as to God.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

It is not from the lowest but from the highest points that the best things in the world always come. We get from the sky, and not from the earth, all those gracious influences without which our world would be only a gigantic lifeless cinder roiling through space. Light and heat come down to us from above; and so do the sunshine that warms and quickens and beautifies everything, and the rain and the dew that refresh the face of nature. The ground is to the plant mainly the soil in which its roots are fixed; it obtains its food chiefly from above, from the air and the sunshine and the showers of heaven. Then, too, it is from the highest parts of the earth's surface, not from the lowest, that all the good things come which make the earth such a beautiful and comfortable home for man. The mountains, not the plains, are the sources of our greatest and most precious gifts. Were it not for the mountains there would be no streams to quench our thirst and water our fields — no winds to purify the air — no clouds to overshadow the earth in the heat of the day, and to keep in the warmth from being diffused in space at night. And is it not a very beautiful, as well as a very striking, thought, that all our flowers come to us originally from the mountains — from the highest and not from the lowest parts of the earth? They bloomed on the heights; and when the foul atmosphere of the plains and valleys vanished gradually, and the air and sunshine became so clear and bright that flowers could breathe in them, they descended as God's good and perfect gifts from above to beautify the lowlands with their lovely presence. Thus you see that even in the natural world every good and perfect gift literally is from above. The things that make this world most beautiful and best fitted to be our abode come from the heights. And is there not a wise lesson for your souls from this fact? If your ordinary natural life is supported and enriched by the good things which come from the sky and the highest parts of the earth, how much more should your true life — the immortal life of your souls — be nourished and enriched by the good things that come to you from the highest of all sources, from the Author of every good and perfect gift — the Father of Lights? The best and most perfect of all gifts has come from above, the unspeakable gift of God's dear Son; and with the gift of His own Son He gives you the gift of the Holy Spirit, that you may know and appreciate fully all the goodness and perfection of Jesus Christ, and make Him your own; that He may work in you the faith which is the gift of God, by which you may believe in Christ to the saving of your soul, and enjoy all the blessings of salvation. In Christ the blessings of this life itself come to you from above, strained and filtered of all their evil, and made truly satisfying without any sorrow being added. And you will get every good and perfect gift from above — from the Father of Lights, by that wonderful ladder set up between earth and heaven along which the angels are ascending and descending — the new and living way of Christ's finished work — in answer to that real earnest prayer of yours which brings your heart and mind into closest contact with the mind and heart of God.

(H. Macmillan, D. D.)

It is not the things that come to you from the earth that will fill the void of your nature, but the things that come to you from heaven. You cannot call any gift that comes to you from below a good gift, for it is mixed with the evil of the earth, like the pure snow when it is soiled by the mud of the ground; or a perfect gift, because it is passing and perishing, and even when at its best it ear, not satisfy your nature. There is ever some drawback to the goodness of the gift that you get from below; some imperfection that, like the worm in the apple, spoils the beauty and the sweetness of it. It is about the things that come from below that people always quarrel; about their lands and wealth and houses and properties — all of the earth, earthy. These are the causes of the frequent strifes and jealousies and greeds that make life often so unhappy. People do not quarrel about the things that come from above — the sunshine and the rain and the sweet influences of the starry Pleiades; and the things of Divine grace from a higher source still — the love and the beauty of heaven. The things that come from above sweeten and ennoble life, reconcile and unite men to one another, and make one family, one loving brotherhood of the human race.

(H. Macmillan, D. D.)

To the bounteous hand of God we owe all that we have, more than we deserve, and all that we hope for. The breath of life was given us by Him, and is dependent upon His pleasure. The stores from which we draw our subsistence are only ours by His permission. It is in His power to withdraw them from us, or us from them, at any moment. We have cause to be thankful that He has so long allowed us the benefit of His mercies. By the "good and perfect gift which is from above," he means more especially the Divine grace b which all other spiritual blessings are rendered attainable. Aptly, indeed, may the preventing and assisting influence of God's Holy Spirit be denominated a "good and perfect gift," since without it we could not make a beginning, much less any progress, in Christian goodness and perfection.

(James Aspinall, M. A.)

I. ALL THE GOODNESS IN HUMAN HISTORY COMES FROM GOD. This principle applies in a specially direct manner to the spiritual forms of human good. Divine influences on the soul come directly from God. Strength, consolation, hope, holiness, are the results of the soul's fellowship with God. Christian virtues are fruits of the Divine Spirit, coming down and operating on the individual character.

II. THE DIVINE GOODNESS IN HUMAN HISTORY COMES IN SEPARATE GIFTS AND DIFFERS IN DEGREE.

1. It comes in separate gifts as man's demands arise (1 Kings 13:10).

2. It comes in different forms: physical; intellectual; spiritual. These forms differ in their intrinsic worth: "Good" — physical and intellectual; "perfect" spiritual. This subject —

(1)Sheds new light on the good of human life, and reveals its sacredness.

(2)Fixed as a habit is favourable to the culture of religious sentiment: humility; gratitude; devotedness.

(3)Reveals the stewardship of humanity.

(4)Discloses the wickedness of a selfish life.

(Homilist.)

The origin of evil is a problem which, in all probability, will never be solved until we reach the world in which there is no evil. And I think we should do well to approach this problem from its brighter rather than from its darker side. I see more hope of our learning what evil is, and even whence it came, if we first ask ourselves what goodness is and whence that came. Now by "goodness" we mean moral goodness; goodness as it exists, or may exist, in man. And by human or moral goodness we mean, not a mechanical and involuntary conformity to law, but a free and willing choice of the righteousness which the law ordains. Moral goodness implies free choice, and how can there be a free choice of that which is good if there be no possibility of choosing evil rather than good? The will of man must have this solemn alternative before it — good or evil — if it is ever to become a good will. God does not make us good, therefore, but He has so made us that we may become good; and in order that we may become good we must be free to choose evil. He is good, perfectly and absolutely good, because His will is fixed in its choice of goodness; and only as our wills rise to that steadfast attitude can we become good. Now if we start from this conception of goodness we shall define its moral opposite, evil, as the wrong choice of the will; we shall say that, just as men become good by freely choosing and doing that which is right, so they become evil by freely choosing and doing that which is wrong. And we shall not blame God for their bad choice, nor for leaving them free to make it; we shall admit that He must leave their will free if they are to be really good, and that, if the will is to be left free, it must be possible for them to choose evil rather than good. Thus we shall reach the conclusion that evil is from man, not from God; that it is not fatal necessity imposed upon them from above, but a wrong choice which they have made when a right choice was open to them. That evil springs from human lust, not from the will of God, St. James has shown us in the verses which precede these; and he now goes on to show how impossible it is that evil should come from God by considerations drawn from what God is in Himself, and from what He has done for us. Even his opening phrase, "Do not err, my beloved brethren," indicates that he is about to resume and carry further the argument with which he has already dealt. Now on this question of the origin of evil men do perpetually err. They ascribe it to a Divine origin. St. James will have no part in such opinions as these. Evil only too certainly is, but he is sure that it is not from God. And he tries to make us sure by giving us the facts and arguments which had most impressed his own mind. His first argument is drawn from the conception he had formed of the nature of God. God cannot be the Author of evil, he argues, because He is the Author of good, because He is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. "Every good gift and every perfect boon" is from Him; or, as the Greek implies, all that comes to us from God is good, and every good gift of His bestowal is perfect as well as good, perfect in kind and degree. But if all He gives is good, and even perfect, how can evil and imperfection spring from Him. As Bishop Sanderson has it, "We are unthankful if we impute any good but to God, and we are unjust if we impute to Him anything but good." St. James, however, is not content with the argument from the acknowledged and absolute goodness of God. With the ease and simplicity which we so much admire in the proverbs and parables of our Lord, he rises into a fine illustration of his argument. The illustration comes to this: "You might as well, and much more reasonably, attribute darkness to the sun as impute evil to God." But mark for a moment with what a natural and unforced ease he passes to his illustration. He had said, "Every good gift and every perfect boon is from above," from yonder fair, pure world on high. And as, in thought, he glances upward to that world, he sees the sun which God has set to rule the day, the moon and the stars which He has set to rule the night. Of these lights God is "the Father," and of all lights. But can the Source and Fountain of all light be the source and fountain of all darkness? Impossible. The sun gives light, and only light. If we are in darkness, that is only because the world has turned away from the sun, of our hemisphere of the world. And, in like manner, God gives good gifts, and only good. Thus, and so naturally, does St. James bring in his illustrative thought. But even yet he is not content with it. The thought grows as he considers it, grows somewhat thus. The Father of the lights must be more perfect than the lights He has called into being. They vary; even the sun for ever shifts its place, and its relation to the earth. But whatever inconstancy there may be in them, there is none in Him who made them. He is good, and doeth good only and continually. And now he advances another step. He argues that evil cannot be of God, because, of His own free will, God sets Himself to counterwork the death which evil works in us, by quickening us to a new and holy life: "Of His own will begat He us, by a word of truth." If we, when we were sinners, were redeemed and made anew by the free action of Divine will, can we for a moment suppose that evil sprang from the will which delivered us from evil? We acknowledge with joyful certainty and gratitude that He who begat us to a new and holy life, when we were "dead in trespasses and sins," must hate the evil from which He delivered us, that He cannot have been the Author of that which He sent His Son to destroy. It may be said, "You who are redeemed and born anew by the grace of God, at the word of His truth, may have reason to believe in His goodness: but what reason has the world at large, the world which is not saved as yet? Perhaps, in logic, it would be a sufficient answer to this objection were we to say: "The world may be saved if it will; God is always trying to save it; but, as we have seen, good as He is, He cannot make men good against their will." Logically, the answer is fair enough; but. our hearts are not to be satisfied by mere logic, and they crave a more tender and hopeful answer than this. Happily, St. James supplies the very answer they crave. God, he says, has begotten us, by some word of truth which met our inward needs, into a new and better life; and therefore we are sure that He hates evil and death. But He has begotten us, not simply that we ourselves may be saved from evil, but also "that we should be a kind of first-fruit of His creatures." Now the consecration of the first-fruits of the earth wan a recognition of God's claim to the whole harvest, and pledge that it should be devoted, in various ways, to His service. This was the great lesson of the first-fruit offering. It was not a tax on payment of which the harvest was to be exempted; it was a confession that it was all the gift of God, and was all due to Him. When, therefore St. James says that the regenerate are kind of first-fruit of the creation, so far from implying that they alone are to be saved, he implies that "all flesh shall see the salvation of God," and that "the whole creation" shall have a part in their redemption.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

A gift is something that expresses the mind and betokens the love of the giver, and at the same time brings happiness to the receiver. What, then, is "a good gift"? That which fulfils these two requisitions. And what is "a perfect gift"? That which entirely fulfils these two ends. Now everything we have in the world — from the blade of grass, or the ray of sunshine — up to eternal glory; from the slenderest thought that darts through the mind to the highest flights of philosophy; from the earthly songs to the triumphant anthems of heaven — everything we touch, or feel, or see, or hear, everything is "a gift." A gift! We did not make it; we did not buy it; we did not deserve it. It is God who gives it, and He gives it lovingly of His own free will, and He gaves it to make whoever receives it happier and better. That is "a gift." But you may say, Is everything God gives us good? Does not He give us trials, sorrows, separations, sickness, bereavement, death? Are these good gifts?" Yes, as they came from Him they were "good." St. Paul was "caught up to the third heaven, and heard unutterable things." It was "a gift." Presently "there was given him" — it is his own expression — "a thorn in the flesh." It was "a gift," and a second gift. It was necessary to balance and make safe the first gift. Each alone was "a good gift," but the two in combination make "a perfect gift." Is there any difference between "a good gift" and "a perfect gift," or are we to take it only as a repetition of the same thought, expressing the same meaning, rising to the same climax? I think there is a difference. "A perfect gift" is one which exactly fits the minds and the taste of the receiver; expresses the whole heart of the giver, and can never be taken away. A gift which has in it perfect adaptation and eternity. Now we might say that all light — the light of the world — was but one light; but we see it broken up into its prismatic colours. There is the light of nature; there is the light of reading; there is the light of grace; there is the light of knowledge; there is the light of love; there is the light of heaven. But it all comes from the same spring, and in every case it is "the light" which is on it which makes the value of "the gift." Some of us have many "gifts." They are all "from above," from the same:Father; but from the want of "the light" which should reign in that "gift," the gift is valueless. Nay, more, it is an unfulfilled possibility; it is the handle of temptation; it turns to self, to pride, to sin. The "gift" is abused; and in proportion as the "gift" is "good and perfect," it becomes evil, and it incurs the heavier "gift" of condemnation.

(James Vaughan, M. A.)

This text, I believe more and more every day, is one of the most important ones in the whole Bible; and just at this time it is more important for us than ever, because the devil is particularly busy in trying to make people forget God, to make us acknowledge God in none of our ways, to make us look at ourselves and not to God, so that we may become earthly. He puts into our hearts such thoughts as these: "Ay, all good gifts may come from God; but that only means all spiritual gifts. We are straightforward, simple people, who cannot feel fine fancies; if we can be honest, and industrious, and good-natured, and sober, and strong, and healthy, that is enough for us — and all that has nothing to do with religion. Those are not gifts which come from God. A man is strong and healthy by birth, and honest and good-natured by nature." Have you not all had such thoughts? But have you not all had very different thoughts; have you not, every one of you, at times, felt in the bottom of your hearts, after all, "This strength and industry, this courage, and honesty, and good-nature of mine, must come from God; I did not get them myself. If I was born honest, and strong, and gentle, and brave, some one must have made me so when I was born, or before. The devil certainly did not make me so, therefore God must. These, too, are His gifts!" Let us go through now a few of these good gifts which we call natural, and see what the Bible says of them, and from whom they come. First, now, that common gift of strength and courage. Who gives you that? — who gave it to David? For He that gives it to one is most likely to be He that gives it to another. David says to God, "Thou teachest my hands to war, and my fingers to fight; by the help of God I can leap over a wall: He makes me strong that my arms can break even a bow of steel." That is plain-spoken enough, I think. God is working among us always, but we do not see Him; and the Bible just lifts up, once and for all, the veil which hides Him from us, and lets us see, in one instance, who it is that does all the wonderful things which go on round us to this day, that when we see anything like it happen we may know whom to thank for it. So, again, with skill and farming in agriculture. From whom does that come? The very heathens can tell us that; for it is curious, that among the heathen, in all ages and countries, those men who have found out great improvements in tilling the ground have been honoured and often worshipped as divine men — as gods; thereby showing that the heathen, among all their idolatries, had a true and just notion about man's practical skill and knowledge — that it could only come from heaven; that it was by the inspiration and guidance of God above that skill in agriculture arose. Again, wisdom and prudence, and a clear, powerful mind — are not they parts of God's likeness? How is God's Spirit described in Scripture? It is called the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of prudence and might. Or, again, good-nature and affection, love, generosity, pity — whose likeness are they? What is God's name but love? Has not He revealed Himself as the God of mercy, full of long-suffering, compassion, and free forgiveness; and must not, then, all love and affection, all compassion and generosity, be His gift? Yes. As the rays come from the sun, and yet are not the sun, even so our love and pity, though they are not God, but merely a poor, weak image and reflection of Him, yet from Him alone they come. Or honesty, again, and justice — whose image are they but God's? Is He not The Just One — the righteous God? Are not the laws of justice and honesty, by which man deals fairly with man, His laws — the laws by which God deals with us? Now here, again, I ask: If justice and honesty be God's likeness, who made us like God in this who put into us this sense of justice which all have, though so few obey it? Can man make himself like God? Can a worm ape his Master? No. From God's Spirit, the Spirit of Right, came this inborn feeling of justice, this knowledge of right and wrong, to us — part of the image of God in which He created man — part of the breath or spirit of life which He breathed into Adam. From whom else, I ask, can they come? Can they come from our bodies? What are they? — Flesh and bones, made up of air and water and earth — out of the dead bodies of the animals, the dead roots and fruits of plants which we eat. They are earth — matter. Can matter be courageous? Did you ever hear of a good-natured plant, or aa honest stone? Then this good-nature, and honesty, and courage of ours must belong to our souls — our spirits. Who put them there? Did we? Does a child makes its own character? Does its body make its character first? Can its father and mother makes its character? No. Our characters must come from some spirit above us — either from God or from the devil. And is the devil likely to make us honest, or brave, or kindly? I leave you to answer that. God — God alone is the Author of good — the help that is done on earth, He doeth it all Himself: every good gift and every perfect gift cometh from Him.

(Canon Kingsley.)

I. THE GENERAL TRUTH THAT GOD IS THE GIVER OF EVERYTHING GOOD. "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above." The words rendered "gift" are not the same in the original. They are closely related, but not identical. The one signifies properly the act of giving, the other the thing given, a little before God is represented as He "who giveth liberally and upbraideth not." He stands pre-eminent alone, in His mood of giving. In His case, act and object entirely harmonise. All giving which is really, absolutely good — good in its origin and exercise — good without any mixture of evil, is from the hand of the infinitely, only good God. "And every perfect gift." Here He speaks of what is bestowed, of the benefaction itself. By "perfect" we are to understand complete of its kind, without radical defect, what is adequate, entire, fitted to serve the end, to accomplish the purpose intended. Every gift of this description, be it natural or spiritual, providential or gracious, ranging from common weekday mercies up to the highest crowning blessings of salvation, is of Divine origin and communication. Through whatever channel they reach us, in whatever quarter they present themselves to view, they are all from above — primarily and properly from above. And they are so, not merely as being originally from a celestial region, but as coming from a Divine bestower. They are from God Himself — from God alone. Now mark how He, the great Giver, is here described. He is called "the Father of lights" — literally of the lights. The primary, direct reference, apparently, is to the grand luminaries of the firmament — the sun, moon, and stars of heaven. These majestic orbs, before which so many nations in all ages have bowed down to worship, are preeminently the lights of the natural world, and they were at first created, as they are still sustained, by Jehovah. As their Maker, Originator, He may be appropriately termed their Father. Light is the brightest, purest, most gladsome of all material elements; and hence it is very often used in Scripture as an emblem of knowledge, holiness, and joy — of all excellence, intellectual, moral, and spiritual — of whatever is most precious and perfect. All the glory of heaven is often represented by the same symbol. Everything which resembles this element, of which it is a tilting figure, is here pointed at in the remarkable designation. The bright orbs above shadow forth a higher, nobler splendour than their own, that which adorns the world of spirits, the kingdom of grace and glory. The whole of this light, shine where it may, proceeds from Him, has Him as its great source and centre. But men are not uniform, undeviating in their spirit and actings. They change, at one time they go in opposition to what they have done at another. The most regular and constant of them are subject to disturbing influences. And is it not so even with the material symbols here introduced by the apostle? But God is not only infinitely clearer and purer, He is also steadier, more constant than the great orbs of heaven. Hence, it is added, "With whom is no vaiableness, neither shadow of turning." He has no variableness about Him, no change, alternation, no fluctuation or uncertainty; no, not the least degree of it, not the most distant approach to anything of the kind, for He is without even "the shadow of turning." In these terms there may be, as is generally supposed, an implied contrast between the Father of lights and the lights themselves. All good, then, comes from Him, all kinds and degrees of it, natural and spiritual. Every blessing, great and small, whether for the body or the soul, is of His bestowal. And so nothing but good comes from Him — no evil whatever. He sends trials, troubles, no doubt, but these are often blessings in disguise, and the very best blessings. Night and storm have their beneficial influence in the natural world, and so have frowning providences in the spiritual.

II. THE MORE SPECIAL TRUTH THAT GOD IS THE QUICKENER OF ALL THE SAVED. James speak of regeneration. It is evident that "begat" here is to be understood, not in the natural sense, but the spiritual; for he adds that it was effected by "the word of truth." There is no admission to His favour and family, no possibility of being one of His sons and daughters, but by being born again.

1. The origin of this regeneration. It is here attributed to God as its Author. It is effected by Him, and Him alone. We pass in it from the carnal to the spiritual, from the earthly to the heavenly. We are thenceforth actuated by wholly different views, feelings, desires, and motives. But more is here stated. James says, "Of His own will begat He us." When He regenerates, God acts according to His own free, sovereign purpose. It is always a most spontaneous, gracious proceeding. It is wholly self-moved. The new birth is never necessitated or merited by the creature. There is nothing about us to deserve it, to draw down the Divine power and mercy for its accomplishment (Ephesians 2:8, 9; Titus 3:5; 1 Peter 1:3).

2. The instrument of this regeneration. "The word of truth," the word which is truth — truth without mixture of error, truth the purest and highest, truth absolute, Divine. Jesus prayed, "Sanctify them through Thy truth; Thy Word is truth." It is the Spirit who is the efficient agent in working this change. It was thus that peace first entered the dark, troubled bosom of . It was from the old Bible found in the library at Erfurt that Luther learned the way of life, and began not only to walk in it himself, but to guide into it the feet of multitudes. It was as his eyes rested on the precious words, "the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin," that one of those noble soldiers of the Cross whom the army of our Queen has furnished, Captain "Vicars, was led to that resolution, and entered on that course, which was followed by a career of eminent consistency and devotedness. This word is all pure, and is proved to be so by the influence it exerts, the holiness it produces in all who comes under its power.

3. The design or object of this regeneration. "That we should be a kind of first-fruits of His creatures." He speaks of the "creatures," and this term, perhaps, goes beyond the redeemed. It points probably to the wider deliverance — that emancipation extending to nature itself, which is associated with the manifestation of the sons of God hereafter (Romans 8:21, 22).(1) We may learn here a lesson of gratitude. Think of our providential bounties, think of our religious privileges — think, above all, of our spiritual and saving mercies, and of what acknowledgments are due to Him from whom they all issue!(2) We may learn also a lesson of humility. We have not the slightest claim to any of these benefits. We have nothing to boast of, no worth, no merit, for our righteousness is no better than filthy rags, and our proper place is the dust of self-abasement.(3) And, finally, we may learn a lesson of holiness. Is God the Giver only of good? Is His begetting us the greatest, best proof that evil cannot proceed from Him, that He stands essentially opposed to all sin at the utmost possible distance from everything of the kind? Then, clearly, if we would act in accordance with the nature and design of our new birth, if we would show ourselves the children of this Father of lights, we must cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, we must ever sock to be sanctified wholly in heart and life, in soul and body.

(John Adam.)

I. THE CHARACTER OF THE GIVER.

1. The designation employed by the apostle is fitted to elevate our conception of Deity. God is "the Father of lights," the Creator and Governor of sun, moon, and stars. "God is Light." Not only has He kindled the luminaries of space, He is the Lord of all light, both physical, and also intellectual and moral.

2. The description of one of the Divine attributes exhibits the character of God still more clearly and delightfully. With Him there "can be no variation, neither shadow that is cast by turning." There is no fickleness or caprice in the heart, in the action of the beneficent Almighty.

II. THE QUALITY OF HIS GIFTS.

1. They partake of the nature of their origin. "From above." "What have we that we did not receive?" Yet too many men are like the swine that feast upon the acorns, but look not up to the tree whence the fruit falls. There is a Divine flavour, a Divine fragrance, a Divine beauty, in all the gifts of God.

2. They are good. They have all of them a natural goodness, and they are all a means, if used aright, to moral and spiritual goodness, and thus lead to something better than themselves.

3. They are perfect.

(1)Commensurate with the character and resources of the Giver.

(2)Adapted to the recipient.

(3)Complete, being finished as they are begun.

III. THE SPECIAL ILLUSTRATION OF DIVINE GOODNESS. Instead of charging God with tempting us to sin, we are directed to observe, and gratefully to acknowledge, the provision He in His wisdom and love has made for our highest welfare.

1. What it is — the new life. "He begat us," or "brought us forth," — as it is differently translated. Our thoughts are thus led to the supreme blessing of God's covenant of grace. Has God given us His Son? He has done so that we might have life, eternal life. Has God given us His Spirit? He has done so that by that Spirit we might be born anew. The new, the higher, the spiritual life of humanity is the great fact of revelation, the great fact of the world's history.

2. Its origin in the Divine purpose. This gift came from God-"of His own will." Christians are "born not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God."

3. Its means and instrumentality. A moral end must be effected by moral means.

4. Its end. That "we should be a kind of first-fruits of His creatures," is His aim in all He has done for our salvation. The early Christians were the first-fruits of a spiritual harvest, comprising the Church of Christ in all lands and through every age. Application:

1. Here we have an incentive to gratitude.

2. An inducement to confidence.

3. An encouragement to prayer.

4. An inspiration to hope.

(J. R. Thomson, M. A.)

Whatever is excellent in the creature, is freely imparted to it by the bounty of the Creator; who is high in glory above all, perfect and unchangeable.

I. THE GOOD WHICH WE RECEIVE FROM GOD MAY BE DIVIDED INTO TWO SORTS, NATURAL GOOD AND SPIRITUAL GOOD.

1. Under natural good is comprehended the animal life of our bodies, its health, and all things that contribute to support and render it comfortable. The reason and understanding of man, his power of memory, and faculty of speech, with the knowledge he is enabled to gain by them, and the arts and improvements of life which arise from them, are to be ranked under the same notion.

2. Spiritual good is whatever contributes to purify the soul, to raise it towards heaven, and to prepare it for the presence of God. It bears its blossoms of hope and peace here on earth; but produces a fruit which is to be gathered in eternity.

II. LET US NEXT CONSIDER THE RIGHT USE AND IMPROVEMENT OF THIS DOCTRINE.

1. It should leach us gratitude and thanks for the blessings of life.

2. It should teach us a constant and humble dependence on the providence of God, under a sense of our own insufficiency to our welfare.

3. It teaches us submission to God's blessed will in all things.

III. Hitherto we have been describing our duty to God, as lie is the Giver of all natural good; let us next consider it, AS HE IS THE AUTHOR OF ALL SPIRITUAL GOOD.

1. And, first, it is a duty which we owe to God and ourselves, when He sets such different objects before us, to weigh and examine their different value, and prefer the best. If what is temporal and worldly is oftentimes permitted to the unthankful and evil, let us desire some other blessing which is a surer token of the favour and loving-kindness of the Giver.

2. And to this we have the greatest encouragement, because He who is the Giver of this heavenly wisdom, hath graciously promised to bestow it on those who ask and seek it of Him.

3. The way, therefore, of asking and seeking so as to obtain, is by prayer, accompanied with a suitable practice.

(T. Townson, D. D.)

1. That all good things are from above; they come to us from God. Mere evil is not from above: "the same fountain doth not yield sweet and bitter waters." God is good, and immutably good, and therefore it cannot be from Him, which was Plato's argument. But for good that floweth clearly from the upper spring, there are indeed some pipes and conveyances, as the Word, and prayer, and the seals; and for ordinary blessings, your industry and care. But your fresh springs are in God; and in all these things we must, as chickens, sip and look upwards.

2. Whatever we have from above, we have it in the way of a gift. There is nothing in us that could oblige God to bestow it; the favours of heaven are not set to sale.

3. Among all the gifts of God, spiritual blessings are the best: these are called here "good and perfect," because these make us good and perfect.

4. That God is the Father of lights. Light being a simple and defecate quality, and, of all those which are bodily, most pure and spiritual, is often put to decipher the essence and glory of God, and also the essences and perfections of creatures as they are from God. The essence of God (1 John 1:5). There light, being a creature simple and unmixed, is put to note the simplicity of the Divine essence. So also the glory of God (1 Timothy 6:16). So Jesus Christ, in regard as He received His personality and subsistence from the Father, is called in the Nicene Creed, "Light of light, and very God of very God." So also the creatures, as they derive their perfections from God, are also called lights; as the angels (2 Corinthians 40:14); the saints (Luke 16:8). Yea, reasonable creatures, as they have wisdom and understanding, are said to be lights; so John 1:9. Well, then, if God be the Father of lights —(1) It presseth you to apply yourselves to God. If you want the light of grace, or knowledge, or comfort, you must shine in His beam and be kindled at His flame. We are dark bodies till the Lord fill us with His own glory.(2) It shows the reason why wicked men hate God (John 3:19-21). He is the Father of lights; He hath a discerning eye, and a discovering beam.(3) It presses the children of God to walk in all purity and innocency (Ephesians 5:8).

5. The Lord is unchangeable in holiness and glory; He is a Sun that shineth always with a like brightness. This is an attribute that, like a silken string through a chain of pearl, runneth through all the rest: His mercy is unchangeable," His mercy endureth for ever" (Psalm 100:5). So His strength, and therefore He is called "The Rock of Ages" (Isaiah 26:4). So His counsel; He may change His sentence, the outward threatening or promise, but not His inward decree; He may will a change, but not change His will. So His love is immutable; His heart is the same to us in the diversity of outward conditions: we are changed in estate and opinion, but God He is not changed; therefore when Job saith (Job 30:21), "Thou art turned to be cruel," he speaketh only according to his own feeling and apprehension. Well, then —(1) The more mutable you are, the less you are like God. Oh! how should yon loathe yourselves when you are so fickle in your purposes, so changeable in your resolutions!(2) Go to Him to establish and settle your spirits.(3) Carry yourselves to Him as unto an immutable good; in the greatest change of things see Him always the same: when there is little in the creature, there is as much in God as ever (Psalm 102:26, 27).

(T. Manton.)

The word "gift" is one of the loveliest in the language. It is a flower-like word, and full of fragrance. It is a most significant and expansive term. Like the firmament, it is inclusive of all bright things visible to man in the doings of God. You might enumerate every act of the Father, from the creation of man to the gift of the Holy Ghost, and all the operations of His mercy since, and group them all together; you may call the roll of all His deeds of love to man, and all His gracious acts to us individually: and above them all, or upon the face of each separately, one might, with the accuracy of entire truthfulness, write "Gift." They have all come to the race, and to each of us, fresh from His hand. There is not a hope I have in which I do not see my Father's face; and the reflection of the face reveals the mirror's use, and makes it lovely. There is not a love known to your life, to which is any depth or purity, from which come not Divine reflections. Nor is there any sympathy in your heart or mine, friend, or any sweet impulse or prompting, no high aim or noble motive, no, nor any consolation which makes our sorrows like wounds which heal themselves in bleeding, not of God. I bring all these together, and string them like pearls upon one necklace, and lay them in the palm of His benevolence — a kind of tribute; my little gift to the All-giving. You may begin with the very lowest of His gifts to you — those that come through the ordinary channels of nature, and hence seem least connected with supernatural bestowment — even your bodily powers — and you can but see at a glance how perfectly you are equipped for usefulness and happiness upon the earth. In your own body find proof of your Creator's love. What grace, what beauty, what sensitiveness, and subtlety of feeling, has been given to the body! How responsive it is to the mind I how willing its subjection I how free and generous its service! I know that it shall fail, and be not; I know that by-and-by we shall have a better; but for the time being, for the present state of soul-development, how adapted the instrument is to the wishes and wants of the player! But it is not until you contemplate man in respect to his mental and moral faculties; it is not until you look within yourself, and behold the powers of your mind, and the more subtle but incomparably superior attributes of the soul — that you fairly see what God has done for you. What costly, what magnificent furniture is this with which the almighty Architect has fitted up and adorned the temple of the Spirit! Here is Reason — that pale but lovely reflection of God — which draws the line between beast and man: on one side of which is mastery, the powers and pleasures of intelligence and eternal life; on the other, inbred subjection, absence of thought, and existence that hurries to extinction. This is ours — our birthright; given, not bought: bestowed, not acquired — the sign and proof of our sonship, and a bond that binds us as with ties of blood to His eternal Fatherhood. Here, too, is Memory — life's great thesaurus, where we bestow all our jewels; that gallery in which are hung the faces of the loved as no limner could depict them; that chamber swathed thick with tapestry, on which the days, like flying fingers, have wrought grave and bright forms, and retained the otherwise transient joys. Who would give up his memory? who surrender this shield against forgetfulness? No one. And yet memory is one of God's gifts to you. Here, too, is Imagination, the divinest faculty of them all, winged like an eagle, tuneful as a lark. Of all faculties, of all powers given of God, I count this the greatest, the most subtle, the most ethereal, and the most Divine. Are you not rich in gifts? Are you not blessed? What more could He have done for you than He has done? Has He not given as a father who as a God should give — generously, munificently? What, now, let me ask, have you done for Him? Where are your days of labour? where the long account of service? How and when have you cancelled the bond and obligation you are under? When your Father called, have you answered? when He directed, have you gone? when He commanded, have you obeyed? To what use have you put these faculties? Or again: to what use do you put your memories? Its lessons are many. Do you allow them to teach you wisdom? Do you not know that the highest of all attainments is to so live that recollection shall not be painful? Half of heaven will consist of remembrance: the endless song will derive half its pathos and power from retrospection. The day hasteth on, yea, is even nigh unto us, when we must own all these children of the mind, be they white or black; when they will swarm about us, and say to Him who shall then be sitting in judgment, "This is our father and our mother!" And, lastly, imagination — what have you been doing with that? What are you doing with it day by day? Do you fill its hand with tare-seeds, and send it forth over all the field of your future life, compelling its unwilling palms to sow for a dire harvest? or have you even debauched it until its former Divine repugnance to such service is lost, and it delights itself in wickedness? Christ alone can forgive your abuse of reason; He alone can take remorse from recollection, even by washing out the record of the transgression which feeds it; He alone can restore your imagination to its original purity, and make it as familiar with spiritual sights and uses as you have made it with sensual. And so you see that the bestowments of grace are even greater than the bestowments of nature; and that, in this offer to rectify the misadjustment of your faculties, God does more for you than He did even in their endowment. The mercy which forgives and reforms is greater than the goodness that created.

(W. H. Murray, D. D.)

I. Apart from the religious view of the subject, no thoughtful person can fail to admire the wisdom and the goodness of Almighty God IN GRANTING TO US HIS CREATURES CONSTITUTIONS AND CHARACTERS SO DIVERSIFIED. By means of that wonderful variety human intercourse has received an interest which could not otherwise have attached to it; human thought has been deepened and diversified, so as to include manifold views of every subject which it contemplates, and the work of the world generally is done in a far more perfect manner.

II. We pass from the kingdom of nature to THE KINGDOM OF GRACE. These various temperaments with which God has endowed us, His rational creatures, were given for much higher ends than those which are merely natural.

1. Are you of the choleric temperament? God has need of you and of those gifts which He has bestowed upon you. He requires the earnestness of nature to be consecrated to the service of His grace, and He can raise the lofty aims of this temperament to a height to which nature never could aspire.

2. If we turn to the sanguine, we shall perceive that this has, no less, its own proper work for God. St. Peter was no unimportant element in the body of the apostles. Are not the great mass of men far too slow in receiving impressions of heavenly things?

3. So also the phlegmatic serves an important purpose in the Church of Christ. If we are called upon to a ready obedience to God's holy will, there is another attribute of a faithful service which He no less requires and approves, a steady consistency and stability.

4. And assuredly if all these temperaments are intended by God to be sanctified in the individual and made thereby serviceable also to the Christian community, the same may be said of that which still remains — the melancholic. The temperament of tenderness and of depth could not be removed from the body of Christ without serious loss to every member of it.

III. I want you to believe that THERE IS FULL PROVISION IN THE GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST, AND IN THE DISPENSATION OF THE GRACE OF GOD, FOR THE SANCTIFICATION OF ALL THESE VARIOUS TEMPERAMENTS AND DISPOSITIONS.

1. We have referred to the example of our Lord as a means of sanctification and a proof of the possibility of every temperament being made holy and acceptable for the work of God. And this first view of the subject is not devoid of importance. Jesus Christ is the model man. He is much more; but He is this as well. He shows us in His life what man should be. Now in that life we behold all the four temperaments of which we have been speaking, and we behold them all perfectly sanctified.(1) In Jesus we behold the melancholic temperament — He was "a Man of sorrow and acquainted with grief"; but we behold it sanctified and free from every stain of sin, calm and uncomplaining in the peace and the love of God.(2) If we pass to the phlegmatic, we shall perceive that this was not lacking in the human constitution or in the earthly life of Christ. He had all its calmness, its peace, its silence.(3) In Him, too, we see the excellences of the sanguine temperament; specially we may note its readiness and its trustfulness.(4) And so, moreover, in Him we see the choleric temperament present and sanctified. The hypocritical misleaders of the people are called "whited sepulchres." He calls the scribes and Pharisees "hypocrites," &c. His life displays all the firmness, energy, and decision of this temper.

2. But, again, there is provision for the sanctification of this temperament in the redeeming work of Jesus. On the Cross He offered a fall, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. He there tasted death not for one temperament, for one class, for one nation; but for every man. And as He died for all, so He ever liveth to make intercession for all who come unto Him.

3. There is all provision for the daily sanctification of the life of nature in the words of Jesus. To the choleric He prescribes, by His example and in His words, the spirit of love. To the sanguine He says, that if it would build a tower, it must sit down first and count the cost, etc. To the phlegmatic He says, "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself," &c. To the melancholy, longing for sympathy, He says, "Lo, I am with you always"; dreading the difficulties and dangers of an earthly life, He says, "In the world ye shall have tribulation. But be of good cheer," dec.

4. Nor would it be right to overlook another important means which God has provided for correcting our natural faults, and disciplining our powers and faculties; I mean His providential dealings with us. They are far more; they are instruments of a Divine discipline, parts of that training which the good providence of God affords, in conjunction with those other means which are set forth in the gospel, and provided in the ministry and ordinances of the Church.

5. But once more let it be observed that the great agent in the sanctification of the human temperaments and of the human heart is the Holy Spirit of God. It is He who makes every other means efficacious — flowing in every channel as a stream of life.

(W. R. Clark, M. A.)

God is the fountain of all goodness, the giver of all good gifts, the author of all good things in men, He worketh whatsoever is good in the whole world. Here, hence St. Peter calleth Him the God of all grace (1 Peter 5:10), because all grace and all go, d gifts come only from Him, as from a well-head and fountain. All the effects of God's will are only good, and whatsoever virtue, grace, Food gifts, it is from God. In this place Almighty God is adorned with three ornaments, wherein His excellent goodness more appeareth.

1. First, He is called the Father of Lights, the Fountain and Well-spring, the Author and Cause from whence all good gifts flow and spring unto men.

2. Secondly, and moreover, it is attributed unto God that He is not variable, mutable, changeable, with whom there is, saith St. James, no variableness. This is added to prevent that which otherwise might have been objected, they might say, God, indeed, is sometimes the cause of good things among men, it followeth not therefore but that He may be sometimes in like manner the cause of evil. God is not variable, there is no changing with Him, He is constant, always alike, ever cause of good, never author of evil: whereof even Balaam the covetous prophet truly prophesied (Numbers 23:19). When God altereth things at His own pleasure, saith Gregory, the things alter, but He remaineth the same, and changeth not. Therefore by His prophet Malachi He crieth, "I am the Lord, I change not; and you sons of Jacob are not consumed."

3. Thirdly, as God changeth not, so there is no shadower turning with Him. He is not like the sun, the moon, the stars, which appear and shine sometimes, but at other times are covered with darkness, which have their changes and their courses, the day now, within ten, eleven, or twelve hours the night; the sun glorious now in beauty, but anon in an eclipse; the moon now in the fall, now in the wan, now new, now a quarter old, and so forth. The planets now in this place of heaven, now in that shining. There is no such turning with God. He is not now good, and now turned to the contrary, for He is always light, and with Him is no darkness at all. For His goodness is always clear, bright, and continually shining.

(R. Turnbull.)

There is no such thing as spontaneous goodness among men. If there be anything good in the universe, enjoyed by men or beasts, or any other thing living in heaven or on earth, visible or invisible, it is the gift of God. If it be a transient good, enjoyed and then gone, so that nothing but the memory of the enjoyment is left, it is the gift of God. If it be the fountain of a stream rolling out pleasure or power to irrigate the world, it is the gift of God. The universe may be searched. If anywhere anything can be found which any intellect can perceive, and any heart can feel to be good, it has come from God. If it be good for any man's body, good for any man's soul, good for any man's spirit, if it be good for any other animal, if it be good for the present or future inhabitants of the earth — find a good thing, and you find a Godsend.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

First, perhaps, to strike the eye amongst the clusters of our Canaan is home — the father's reason made silken by affection; the mother's voice sweeter than any music; the kindly strength of the brother; tire fondness of the sister; the comeliness and sparkle of little children. Friendship is a kindred cluster engolbing rich wine. Another fruition is philanthropy, delicious as a fruit of paradise plucked from some branch running over the wall. Then the eye longs to drink as well as the lip, and the ear to drink as well as the eye, so art displays creations refreshing as the vineyard's purple wealth; the artist with marble and canvas unsealing fountains of beauty, the musician with pipe and string pouring streams of melody. Science shows the earth a great emerald cup, whose fulness flashes over the jewelled lip. Literature is a polished staff bearing grapes beyond those of Eshcol. Commerce is a whole vine in itself, and we gaze at its embarrassing lavishness with amazed delight. Patriotism is a first rate grape whose generous blood gives to the spirit that unselfish glow which surpasses all sensual pleasure; and the best wine runs last in that sentiment of humanity which gives the crowning joy to the festival of life.

(W. L. Watkinson.)

"Iterum, iterum, iterumque" — "Again, again, and again." Such was the motto wittily adopted by the English dramatist, Samuel Foote, after he happily became the possessor of a third fortune, when two previous fortunes had been entirely squandered away. "Again, again, and again" be had been favoured; and placed each time in an increasingly responsible position. With each new endowment he had the experience of the past to guide him, and had less excuse to furnish for any misuse of his possessions. Samuel Foote's motto may be adopted by every reader in relation to the mercies he has received. Not once, not twice only, has God blessed us, but "again, again, and again." It would be an interesting calculation if the reader could survey his past life and tabulate the number of mercies, in the form of meals, he has received; the number in the shape of suits of apparel, and the number in the persons of friends to cheer life's pilgrimage. Suppose you are twenty years of age, then God has placed upon your breakfast-table 7,300 refreshing repasts to fit you for the day's duties. And if you have partaken of four meals a day, then in twenty years the bountiful Giver of every good and perfect gift has provided for you no fewer than 29,200 meals. This is irrespective of the delicious fruits which tie has oftentimes showered into your lap between the stated meals. Are all these mercies to be received and employed by us without acknowledgment?

(J. H. Hitchens, D. D.)

In 1808 a grand performance of the "Creation" took place at Vienna. Haydn himself was there, but so old and feeble that he had to be wheeled into the theatre in a chair. His presence roused intense enthusiasm among the audience, which could no longer be suppressed as the chorus and orchestra burst in full power upon the passages, "And there was light." Amid the tumult of the enraptured audience the old composer was seen striving to raise himself. Once on his feet, he mustered up all his strength, and in reply to the applause of the audience, he cried out as loud as he was able, "No, no! not from me, but," pointing to heaven, "from thence — from heaven above — comes all!" saying which he fell back in his chair, faint and exhausted, and had to be carried out of the room.

Among the good things, the best is light, the physical light which makes the things of the outer world visible, the intellectual light which enables any man to see truths and their relations, the spiritual light which enables a man to walk as seeing Him that is invisible and the invisible world by which He is surrounded. God is the "Father of lights," the source of all conceivable modes of illumination, and Ha pours down upon men all the good things they have. It is not a shower, an occasional gift of things desirable, but it is an unceasing rain of blessings. It is incessant sunshine. As at all hours rays of light are going off in all directions from the sun, and covering all the space of the solar system, so are God's gifts going from Him, descending from Him, ceaselessly, in an unbroken stream of blessing, and an uninterrupted radiation of light. He is the Father of lights, the Producer of the heavenly bodies, the Source of all the light of knowledge, all the light of wisdom, all the light of faith, all the light of hope, all the light of love, all the light of joy. If any man arise in his generation to shine as a star in the hemisphere of human society, God kindled the splendour of his intellect and the benign radiance of his high spiritual character, if any woman arise to brighten a home, or send the kindly light of her sweetness over any cheerless portion of our race, it was God who dwelt in her heart, and smiled through her life. If on the coast of our humanity we, mariners on life's uncertain sea, behold lighthouses so placed along the shore as to enable us to take bearings or shape courses that bring us to our havens of safety, it is God who has erected each such lighthouse and kindled each such pharos.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

God, as the Author of all our spiritual light, receives a faint illustration from the sun, as the source of natural light. The rays from the sun are of three kinds, differing from one another probably only as to the lengths of the waves of which they are composed.

1. Light rays. Nearly all the light we receive comes from the sun. Even the moonlight is but reflected sunlight. Even when we are in the shade, or in the house where we cannot see the sun, the light we receive is sunlight, dispersed from the particles in the air, reflected from all things around us; even the light of our lamps and gas-burners is but sunlight which has been stored up in the earth. So it is that all our spiritual light, from whatever sources it seems to come, is really from God. Our white sunlight is really composed of thousands of colours, shades, and tints, which fill the world with beauty. Such variety is in the pure light from God, reflected from our manifold natures, needs, and circumstances.

2. Heat rays. Nearly all the heat in the world comes directly or indirectly from the sun. The fires that warm us and that are the source of power are from the wood or coal in which the heat of the sun has been stored. Such is God's love to us.

3. Chemical rays, which act upon plants and cause the movements of life. These rays are in a sense the source of life, the instrumentality of life. So God is the Source of our spiritual life. Light, love, and life all come from the Father of lights.

(Christian Age.)

I suggest to you all the prayer of a Puritan who, during a debate, was observed to be absorbed in writing. His friends thought he was taking notes of his opponent's speech, but when they got hold of his paper, they found nothing but these words, "More light, Lord! More light, Lord!" Oh, for more light from the great Father of lights!

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide world's joy. The lonely pine on the mountain-top waves its sombre boughs and cries, "Thou art my sun"; and the little meadow violet lifts its cup of blue, and whispers with its perfumed breath, "Thou art my sun." And the grain in a thousand fields rustles in the wind and makes answer, "Thou art my sun." So God sits, effulgent in heaven, not for a favoured few, but for the universe of life; and there is no creature so poor or so low that he may not look up with childlike confidence and say, "My Father, Thou art mine."

(H. W. Beecher.)

I. CONSIDER GOD, AS HE IS UNCHANGEABLE IN HIS OWN NATURE AND PERFECTIONS. This Author of all must be unchangeable. He cannot change for the better, because He hath in Himself all excellences. He cannot change for the worse, because neither can He have a will or a power to hurt Himself, nor can other beings be able to diminish His perfections, since they have no other strength than He gave them, and receive their nature and qualities from Him. Thus reason teacheth us to conclude that God is unchangeable. The Holy Scriptures also teach us the same.

II. CONSIDER GOD IN HIS DEALINGS WITH US, AS HE IS OUR RULER, AND SHOW THAT HE IS UNCHANGEABLE IN HIS WILL, HIS PURPOSES, AND DECREES. This is a manifest consequence of what has been said; for, if God is unchangeable in His nature and perfections, whatsoever He decrees and resolves concerning mankind in general, or any of us in particular, He must and infallibly will accomplish. To resolve and not to perform is a certain mark of imperfection,

III. CONSIDER THOSE ACTIONS AND THAT PART OF GOD'S CONDUCT TOWARDS MANKIND, WHICH SEEM TO ARGUE IN HIM INCONSTANCY AND CHANGE OF MIND.

1. "When God is said to repent, and to be grieved, it is manifest that such popular expressions are to be understood as spoken in condescension to the weakness of our apprehensions.

2. We learn from the Scriptures that God gave the Jews ritual laws, which in themselves and of their own nature were not good, and which He afterwards repealed by His Son. The gospel is the natural and the moral law in full perfection; but, as we are imperfect, and cannot live up to it, it was suitable to perfect goodness and mercy to use some abatement and condescension. Therefore God, in compassion to our infirmities, to exact unsinning obedience, substitutes repentance, which is accepted through the propitiation and mediation of Christ.

3. We find in the Scriptures some promises and threatenings, which are so expressed that they seem to be absolute and irreversible; which yet, as the event showed, were not accomplished; and this seems not to agree with the unchangeable nature of God. The following observations may serve to explain this matter, and to set it in a true light.(1) All the promises and threatenings contained in the New Testament are conditional, and the condition is plainly expressed. Thus our happiness or misery is made to depend upon our own choice and behaviour. In the Old Testament likewise, the far greater part of God's promises and threatenings are of the same kind: they are conditional, and the condition is named expressly.(2) Some of God's decrees concerning societies or particular persons have no dependence upon the moral behaviour of men; and these consequently are absolute and irreversible.(3) These decrees excepted which are prophetic and providential, all other declarations, though they may seem absolute and unchangeable, yet are not so; for God reserves to Himself a power of altering them, or suspending their execution.Application —

1. The consideration of God's unchangeable nature compared with our changeable condition, may teach us to entertain humble thoughts, and to know ourselves to be most imperfect creatures in all respects.

2. Since God is set forth in the Scriptures as the bright and perfect original which in all things we should resemble, His unchangeable nature reminds us that we must endeavour, like Him, to be constant in all that is good, in our love of virtue, and in our lawful promises to one another.

3. The unchangeable nature of God suggests very powerful dissuasions from vice. There is a law which declares that impenitent vice shall end in destruction. This law is eternal and unchangeable.

(J. Jortin, D. D.)

I. EXPLAIN WHAT IS MEANT. By the immutability of God we mean that He always is, and was, and will be, the same; that He undergoes no changes either of His essence and Being, or of His properties and perfections.

II. SHOW THAT THIS IS ESSENTIAL TO GOD.

1. From the dictates of natural reason; which tells us that nothing argues greater weakness and imperfection than inconstancy and change. Now if the Divine nature were subject to change, this would cast an universal cloud upon all the Divine perfections, and obscure all other excellences. And, as mutability in God would darken all His other perfections, so would it take away the foundation and comfort of all religion; the ground of our faith, and hope, and fear; of our love and esteem of God, would be quite taken away.

2. This will yet more clearly appear from the Divine revelation of the Holy Scriptures, which tell us that God is unchangeable in His nature and in His perfections, in all His decrees, and purposes, and promises, in tits essence and Being. "I am that I am" (Exodus 3:14); this is His name, whereby He made known Himself to the comfort of His people, and to the terror of the Egyptians, their oppressors. "From everlasting to everlasting Thou art God" (Psalm 90:2). "Thou art the same, and Thy years fail not" (Psalm 102:27). "I am the Lord, and change not" (Malachi 3:6). Hence it is that the title of "the living God" is so frequently attributed to Him; and He swears by this, as denoting not only His eternity, but His unchangeableness — "As I live, saith the Lord." Hither, likewise, we may refer those texts where He is called the "incorruptible God" (Romans 1:23). "The immortal King" (1 Timothy 1:17), and is said "only to have immortality" (1 Timothy 6:16). And He is immutable, likewise, in His perfections; hence it is so often said in the Psalms that "His goodness and His mercy endure for ever"; His righteousness is likewise said to "endure for ever" (Psalm 111:3), and to be "like the great mountains" (Psalm 36:6); not only visible and conspicuous, but firm and immovable; and the same, likewise, is said of His truth and faithfulness, "His truth endureth for ever" (Psalm 117:2), and of His power, "In the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength" (Isaiah 26:4). And so likewise in His decrees, and purposes, and promises (Psalm 33:11; Isaiah 14:24; Numbers 23:19; Psalm 89:33). APPLICATION —

1. In regard to sinners and wicked men.(1) The unchangeableness of God is matter of great terror to wicked men. Let but the sinner consider what God is, and the consideration of His unchangeable nature must needs terrify him (Habakkuk 1:13; Psalm 5:4, 5; Exodus 34:7; Psalm 90:11; Psalm 76:7; Revelation 18:8).(2) This should be a powerful argument to urge sinners to repentance.

2. In reference to good men, the consideration of God's unchangeableness is matter of great consolation to them; in all the changes and vicissitudes of the world, their main comfort and hope is built upon a rock, it relies upon the unchangeable goodness and faithfulness of God, "all whose promises are yea and amen," truth and certainty.

(Abp. Tillotson.)

There are two facts for us to look at here; the first fact, that this world and all that is in it are full of change; the second fact, that God who made us, and from whom comes every good gift, is unchanging. The face of the earth and the history of its people are always changing. If we turn from the world of nature and look at ourselves, we shall see change everywhere. Have you ever known what it is to revisit your home after an absence of many years? All changed. The place, once so familiar, looks strange and unnatural now. Yes, the tree lives yet, but the hand that planted it is gone. Seeing these constant changes in the world, in ourselves, in our friends, it becomes a tremendous thought that God is just the same as ever. The same as the God of the new-made universe, the same as the God of Abraham, of Moses; the same who took our flesh and was made man; the same who rose again and ascended into heaven, the Christ of the Gospels, ever the same. One great reason why our lives are so fall of change is that we may learn that this is not our rest. That we may look up from changing earth, to a changeless God, and on eternity, where a thousand years are but as yesterday. The gift of faith in believing, the gift of hope, and of life eternal — these things change not; the gifts of the world, the greatness of the world, pass away, God and His gifts alone remain unchanging.

1. First of all, God's justice is unchanging.

2. Again, the lovingkindness of God is unchanging.

3. Again, the tender care of God for us is unchangeable.

4. Lastly, the forgiveness of God is unchangeable. God will forgive us our sins on the same conditions as of old, and on no other.

(H. J. Wilmot Buxton, M. A.)

Apart from revelation, men in general would not have supposed that God, the Creator of a changeful world, is Himself unchangeable. The heathen nations appear for the most part to have regarded their gods as beings subject to like passions, to the same fickleness of mind and purpose with themselves. Such was the common belief, though here and there one might be found gifted with a deeper insight (Numbers 23:19). The laws by which he governs as are as fixed and immutable, though to us as unsearchable, as those by which He directs the vicissitudes of the seasons and the succession of storm and calm, of sunshine and rain. The great event in the world's history, the Incarnation of Christ, took place so as to seem an after-thought — an interruption in the course of things, occasioned by the sin of man; but what says the Scripture (1 Peter 1:20; Romans 16:25; Ephesians 3:11) And this being true of the most wonderful work of His providence and love, we may be sure it holds good of all His dealings with us. His gracious purposes towards us do not vary, they are Yea and Amen. Though His favour may seem to be withdrawn, and His face turned away from us, it is not so even for a moment. God is said here to be "the Father of lights." He is the Source of all illumination. The light of day, the light of earthly happiness, the light of reason, the light of conscience, the light of revelation, all are from Him, and whether they are continued to us or withdrawn, His purpose is the same — to prepare us for a still more marvellous light into which tie is bringing us, even the light of His presence. But while He is so constant, so immutable, what are we? How fickle, how moody, how unstable! We build castles in the air, and hovels on the ground; promising much, performing little; doing a thing to-day, wishing it undone to-morrow; full of bravery as to the future, and cowards for the present, changing our opinions at the bidding of our interests; making Our way through life, not like the bird of passage, intent upon an unseen home, but like the butterfly, in ancient times chosen as the emblem of the human soul, flitting this way and that, without any certain course in view. Above all, as to the most important concerns of our souls, often we keep not the same resolution for two days, or even two hours together — strongly impressed one hour with their overwhelming importance, aroused, distressed, anxious about them; the next, how glad to get rid of them, to be willingly, wilfully forgetful of them! But the changeableness of our nature has its good as well as its evil side. If you have given yourself up to some bad way, you are not to look upon it as a thing from which there is no escape, a prison from which you cannot get forth. If, indeed, you will not make the effort, you must be as you are; if you will, you may be made free. But in no case is it more true than in yours, that "who would be free themselves must strike the blow." You will be aided, indeed, by God's good Spirit. But you must strive as if all depended on yourself, and then the most inveterate propensity to evil may be overcome, and you may be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so as to know by your own experience what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

(W. G. Humphry, B. D.)

It is not necessary to press the astronomical figures which St. James employs. It is clear that he means to assert most emphatically two things about God, namely, that with Him there is no alienation of goodness and no obscuration of goodness. As one says, "God is always in the meridian."

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

He cannot change. He cannot call that no sin which is sin; nor that a small sin which is a great sin; nor that a private sin which is a public sin. His purpose is not the easy, pliable, changeable thing which thine is. He is the God only wise, only righteous, only mighty, and is, therefore, above all such vacillations. O saint, remember that thou hast to do with a holy and unchangeable God! O sinner, think that thou hast also to do with Him, and that this inflexibility is as yet all against thee! He will not alter either His law or His gospel to suit you. You must take them as they are, or perish for ever!

An old writer says, "A man travelling upon the road espies some great castle; sometimes it seems to be nigh, another time afar off; now on this hand, anon on that; now before, by and by behind; when all the while it standeth still unmoved. Thus it is with God; sometimes He seemeth to be angry with the sons of men, another time to be well pleased; now to be at hand, anon at a distance; now showing the light of His countenance, by and by hiding His face in displeasure: yet He is not changed at all. It is we, not He, that is changed.

There is never a time at which one could say that through momentary diminution in holiness it had become possible for Him to become a tempter.

(A. Plummer, D. D.)

There are many Christians, like young sailors, who think the shore and the whole land do move, when the ship and they themselves are moved; just so, not a few imagine that God moveth, and faileth, and changeth places, because their souls are subject to alteration; but the foundation of the Lord abideth sure.

Let us consider —

I.THE AUTHOR:

II.THE NATURE:

III.THE INSTRUMENT: and

IV.THE END OF THE GREAT CHANGE.

I. WE HAVE GAINED THE SUMMIT OF THE MOUNTAIN OF TRUTH WHEN WE REACH GOD. What wonders, majesties, mysteries, lovelinesses centre in that name! He is the blessed and only Potentate on whom eternity and creation and redemption repose. How God as a sovereign works the salvation of a soul from the slavery and death of sin, in conformity with the laws of free agency and responsibility, may be incomprehensible to us; but surely there is nothing unreasonable in affirming that infinite perfection works out everything in the highest scale of moral excellence, and in accordance with the designs of Divine wisdom, justice and love, amid a world full of sinful but accountable creatures

III. IN FREE, RICH, AND SOVEREIGN GRACE, THEREFORE, THE LORD BEGETS US. And the outcome means life — spiritual, heavenly, Divine. It is not a mere polishing of the human spirit, or the giving of a right direction to its faculties only. The grandeur of the change is implied in such phrases as, being born of God; passing of death to life; a new creature; quickened with Christ from the death of sin; the washing of regeneration; and the new heart, out of which proceed thoughts, affections, principles, desires, and hopes — all new. The day of its occurrence is called a day of power; a time of refreshing; a springtime of grace. God draws and renews the soul in mercy and truth, and re-traces on it the lines of His own likeness in knowledge, righteousness, and true holiness. It must not be forgotten that a moral life, however estimable in the sight of men, is not acceptable with God unless it be the offspring of the new birth, By no means can a dead soul please a living God. The tree must be made good by the omnipotent workmanship of God, or the fruit will be apples of Sodom. The necessity of life from God is proved by such varieties of evidence as bespeak the greatness of the gift; and show at the same time the criminal nature and heinous guilt of unbelief. The perfect law of liberty demands a pure heart that loves God with all its strength and mind and soul. From every throne and crown of glory and harp of gold in heaven there flashes the demonstration that a sinful man must be born again before he can enter the gate of the golden city.

III. "THE WORD OF TRUTH" IS THE INSTRUMENT OF CONVERSION. Truth is God at work on a human spirit, for its rectification and investiture with His own perfection and beatitude. The gospel derives its power from the image of God which it mirrors forth; from the knowledge of sin and wrath which it communicates; from its professed design to set forth the propitiation and grace of the Lord Jesus, to make men partakers of the Holy Ghost, of God's righteousness, and the sunshine of His favour. More glorious than the law, and revealing life and immortality, it moulds men into saints, and constrains them to love and obedience. The gospel is all grace. Invented by God to communicate this blessedness and glory, its excellency is infinite. It civilises, it moralises, it converts. It is the glory of Jehovah that He gave the gospel; of any people, that they possess it; of a soul, that its unsearchable riches are his own; of heaven, that it is the field where its wealth and its wonders shall be displayed; of eternity, that it alone can contain all its magnificence.

IV. THE DESIGN OF GOD IN REGENERATION IS TO MAKE US "A KIND OF FIRSTFRUITS OF HIS CREATURES." The incomparable excellence of the new life is seen in the formation of holy character in the sense of duty, which is power. Believers feel themselves to be the property of the great High Priest who bought them; in everything they are desirous to please Him. Under the imperishable principles of the living Word, they are shaped after the Divine likeness in bliss, purity, and moral greatness. It was a law in Israel that the "first fruits" should be offered to God; and preceded by an oblation for sin, they were accepted by God in worship as a grateful acknowledgment that the riches of the harvest and the beauties of spring and the products of the vegetable and animal kingdom are His. And so it is that ransomed souls in whom the Divine life is, are claimed by God; and, devoted to Him, are, through the expiatory sacrifice of the Lord Jesus, most acceptable in His sight. I have redeemed them, and "they are Mine": I have made a covenant with them, and they are Mine: and they shall be Mine "in the day when I make up My jewels." Furthermore, "the firstfruits," ripened by sun, earth, and air, have the beauty of maturity in their fulness and bloom, and were thus an appropriate offering to Infinite perfection. In the mode in which they were offered we are taught the duty and the privilege of all living souls to dedicate themselves to God in faith, fear and joy. For there is great dignity and excellence about the righteous man. He has better principles than others; a better heart; better affections; better dispositions; and better prospects. He is a son of God; one with Christ; righteous in the Just One; a peculiar treasure to the Majesty of Heaven; a king divinely born; and oh! wonderful, partaker of the Divine nature by grace, and destined to be filled with the fulness of God! The sons begotten of God are the firstfruits of His creatures. That is, the regenerated of the human family are the promise and the seal of the great and glorious change that awaits creation.

(W. Magill, D. D.)

1. That which engaged God to the work of regeneration was merely His own will and good pleasure (Romans 9:18). God's will is the reason of all His actions; you will find the highest cause to be will, love, and mercy. God can have no higher motive, nothing without Himself, no foresight of faith and works, He was merely inclined by His own pleasure (John 15:16). This is applicable divers ways.(1) To stir us up to admire the mercy of God, that nothing should dispose His heart but His own will; the same will that begat us, passed by others: whom He will He sayeth, and whom He will He hardeneth.(2) It informeth us the reason why, in the work of regeneration, God acteth with such liberty: God acteth according to His pleasure; the Holy One of Israel must not be limited and confined to our thoughts (John 3:8).

2. The calling of a soul to God is, as it were, a new begetting and regeneration. This is useful —(1) To show us the horrible depravity of our nature; repairing would not serve the turn, but God must new make and new create us, and beget us again.(2) To show us that we are merely passive in our conversion: it is a begetting, and we contribute nothing to our own forming (Psalm 100:4).(3) It showeth us two properties of conversion.(a) There will be life. A man cannot have interest in Christ, but he will receive life from Him.(b) There will be a change. At the first God bringeth in the holy frame, all the seeds of grace; and therefore there will be a change: of profane, carnal, careless hearts, they are made spiritual, heavenly, holy (Ephesians 5:8).

3. It is the proper work of God to begetus: "He begat." It is sometimes ascribed to God the Father, as here, and so, in other places, to God the Son: believers are "His seed." (Isaiah 53:10). Sometimes to the Spirit (John 3:6). God the Father's will: "Of His own will begat He us." God the Son's merit: through His obedience we have "the adoption of sons" (Galatians 4:5). God. the Spirit's efficacy: by His overshadowing the soul is the new creature hatched and brought forth. It is ascribed to all the three Persons together in one place (Titus 3:5, 6). It is true, the ministers of the gospel are said to beget, but it is as they are instruments in God's hands. So Paul saith, "I begat you" (1 Corinthians 4:15); and of Onesimus he saith, "Whom I begat in my bonds" (Philemon 1:10). God loveth to put His own honour many times upon the instruments. Well, then —(1) Remove false causes. You cannot beget yourselves, that were monstrous; you must look up above self, and above means, to God, who must form you after His own image.(2) It showeth what an honourable relation we are invested with by the new birth. He begat us. God is our Father; that engageth His love, and care, and everything that can be dear and refreshing to the creature.

4. The ordinary means whereby God begetteth us is the gospel (1 Corinthians 4:15; 1 Peter 1:23). The influences of the heavens make fruitful seasons, but yet ploughing is necessary. It is one of the sophisms of this age to urge the Spirit's efficacy as a plea for the neglect of the means.

5. The gospel is a word of truth; so it is called, not only in this, but in divers other places (2 Corinthians 6:7; Ephesians 1:12; Colossians 1:5; 2 Timothy 2:15). You may constantly observe that in matters evangelical the Scriptures speak with the greatest certainty; the comfort of them is so rich, and the way of them is so wonderful, that there we are apt to doubt most, and therefore there do the Scriptures give us the more solemn assurance (1 Timothy 1:15).

(T. Manton.)

I. THE NEW CREATION. By necessity of birth the state of every infant is guilty, and, therefore, subject to con-detonation. Original sin rests on its head, and subjects it to the penalties of death; so that in law it stands as a criminal convicted, and, therefore, incapable of heavenly privileges. But by the laver of baptism made a recipient of heavenly prerogatives, and thus far innocent in the sight of God, it is capable of receiving those spiritual privileges, which are Divinely ordered to flow from this source. It becomes incorporated into the Church, and, consequently, a member of Christ; whence proceeds its adoption as a son, and its title to an inheritance in the kingdom of heaven. And not only so, but a principle of new life is infused into him. His very nature is changed. In understanding, will, affections, and conscience, he is altogether different.

II. THE ORIGINAL CAUSE OF REGENERATION. Creation is a prerogative solely vested in God. No finite being possesses it. Man is incapable of changing his own state and nature; as incapable of effecting his own regeneration as of bringing himself originally into being. St. John speaks of the regenerated as "born of God"; St. Paul as "partakers of the Divine nature"; and again, as being "His workmanship created in Christ Jesus unto good works."

III. THE IMPULSIVE OR MOVING CAUSE OF REGENERATION — the will of God The original expression signifies, not "will" merely, but "good will"; that is, a decree of the mind caused by His grace in behalf of fallen men. Man's regeneration could not proceed from any advantages accruing to God; for the salvation of a thousand worlds could not add to His happiness, nor their destruction detract from His felicity.

IV. THE INSTRUMENTAL CAUSE OF REGENERATION. AS God in His providence always works His pleasure by instruments, so it is in the kingdom of grace; and that which there effects His purposes is the gospel or "Word of truth." By a single expression of His will He might convert the millions that are on earth; but He prefers treating them as reasonable beings with a moral agency, and using means to make them workers together with Him in their own regeneration. And the means He adopts is "truth," Divine truth, as expressed in the gospel of His Son, and as set forth in the means of grace flowing through His Church. How these effect their purpose, the mode of their operation, is a mystery hidden in the secrets of God. He has drawn a veil as ranch over His mode of re-creation, as over the philosophy of His own essence, and the original principle of things animate or inanimate. But thus much we do know — that, though He can beget without the Word, the Word cannot beget without Him. It is as seed, which the dew and sun of heaven must act upon, or it will never yield a grain to the will of the sower.

V. THE FINAL CAUSE OF REGENERATION — dedication to God. Christians are "a kind of first-fruits of His creatures," the spiritual antitypes, whereof the law-type of the first-fruits was a figure.

1. For, first, they have been redeemed from a bondage worse than that of Egypt. They have been "bought with a price," and hence are no longer "their own, but His who redeemed them." They answer, then, the character of first-fruits in the object of the oblation, being God's by right of purchase and possession.

2. Hence, also, like the first-fruits, they are separated from the rest of their kind. They differ from the unchristian world in nature, in maxims and principles, in spirit and temper, in company and conduct.

(John Budgen, M. A.)

Here is a splendid specimen of God's good gifts, in that He has given us eternal life through His Son Jesus. This life is the climax of Divine goodness, as death, the child of sin, is the climax of human badness. It was free. It came by no law, it was produced by no necessity, it was the product of no natural evolution, it arose from His own goodness and lovingness. He emphasises "us" in addressing Hebrew Christians. They were originally chosen by His Divine goodness to be the repository of the oracles of God, the ark, so to speak, which should bear the truth of God down the stream of the centuries. When the fulness of time had come, and Jesus inaugurated the ripened plans for the world's salvation, those Israelites who earliest became Christians had the distinction of being a kind of first-fruits of all God's creatures. Christianity had completed to them the revelation that under God the highest beings are men, that humanity is to take the lead of the universe, that men are superior to angels, and men are to live for ever, and are to lead and govern and teach the intelligences of the universe, that those individuals of humanity who are to do this are those who receive eternal life through Jesus Christ, and that the first, as the first-fruits of an abundant harvest, are those Jews who were early in Christ, having been begotten by the Word of truth.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

Every real Christian upon earth has been twice begotten — twice born. First, he was born naturally, and he became a man; then he was born spiritually, and he became a new man. His first birth is to be calculated by his age — his second birth by the length of time that he has been living unto God. This second birth is, on various accounts, a far more excellent one than the first, and is attended with privileges of an infinitely higher order and degree.

I. First, our text points out the AUTHOR of this second birth. "He begat us," it says — and of whom does it speak thus? He, then, and He alone, is the Author of the second birth — the Father of the spiritual life of the regenerated soul.

II. His MOTIVE. None of those men to whom He hath given a new birth could be said to deserve to be new born. What, then, determined God to make them new creatures?" Of His own will begat He us." And so say a multitude of other texts (Ephesians 1:5; Romans 9:18; 2 Timothy 1:9; Titus 3:5).

III. THE MEANS WINCH HE EMPLOYED. We have seen why His people were begotten. Let us now see how — "How," at least, in reference to the outward instrument made use of. For who can tell how the process is carried on within? We do, however, know the outward instrument and means which it pleases God to make use of. It is "the Word of truth." And what is this "Word of truth"? The blessed gospel, either as it is written or preached. This, says St. James, is the instrument of man's conversion.

IV. THE END WHICH HE PROPOSED. "That we should be," says he, "a kind of first-fruits of His creatures."

(A. Roberts, M. A.)

Malan asked a joiner, who said he wished to render himself worthy of the grace of God, whether he had ever succeeded by careful polishing, in turning a piece of common wood into ebony.

(J. F. B. Tinling, B. A.)

A man has bought a farm, and he finds on that farm an old pump. He goes to the pump and begins to pump. And a person comes to him and says, "Look here, my friend, you do not want to use that water. The man that lived here before, he used that water, and it poisoned him and his wife and his children — the water did." "Is that so?" says the man. "Well, I will soon make that right. I will find a remedy." And he goes and gets some paint, and he paints up the pump, putties up all the holes, and fills up the cracks in it, and has got a fine-looking pump. And he says, "Now I am sure it is all right." You would say, "What a Joel, to go and paint the pump when the water is bad!" But that is what sinners are up to. They are trying to paint up the old pump when the water is bad. It was a new well he wanted. When he dug a new well it was all right. Make the fountain good, and the stream will be good. Instead of painting the pump and making new resolutions, my friend, stop it, and ask God to give you a new heart.

(D. L. Moody.)

Of His own will; by His mere molten, induced by no cause but the goodness in His own breast.

1. To distinguish it from the generation of the Son, which is natural, this voluntary.

2. Not by a necessity of nature, but by an arbitrariness of grace.

3. Not by any obligation from the creature; the will of God is opposed to the merit of man. "Begat us," or brought us forth; for the same word (ver. 15) is translated "brings forth." "By the Word of truth," a title given to the gospel both in the Old and New Testament.And it is called truth by way of excellency, as paramount to all other truth.

1. Either, by an Hebraism, the word of truth; that is, the true word.

2. Or rather, by way of eminency, as containing a higher truth, more excellent in itself, more advantageous for the creature, than any other Divine truth; wherein the highest glory of God, the sure and everlasting happiness of the creature, is set forth; a word which He hath "magnified above all His name" (Psalm 138:2).And called the Word of truth.

1. In regard of the Author, truth itself; and the Publisher, He who was "the Way, the Truth, and the Life."

2. In opposition to all false doctrines, which can never be the instruments of conversion; for error to convert to truth is the same thing as for darkness to diffuse light, or water to kindle fire.

3. In opposition to the windy and fleshy conceits of men, which can no more be instrumental in the begetting a Christian than mere wind can beget a man.

4. In opposition to the legal shadows, the gospel declares the truth of these types. The law was the word of truth, but referred to the gospel as the great end of it. This contains the whole and ultimate purpose of God, for saving men by Jesus Christ, and in Him enriching them with all spiritual blessings, and not by the works of the law; and thus the Spirit, which enlightens and seals instruction upon our souls, is called "the Spirit of truth" 1 John 14:17.

I. FOR EXPLICATION, TAKE SOME PROPOSITIONS.

1. It is not the law that is this instrument. It is true, the law considered in itself is preparatory to cast men down; but the law without the gospel never brought any man to Christ.

2. The gospel is this instrument. It is an instrument to strike off the fetters, and draw out the soul to a glorious liberty.(1) It is not a natural instrument, to work by any natural efficacy, as food doth nourish, the sun shines, or the air and water cools, or as a sharp knife cuts if it be applied to fit matter. If it were thus natural, it would not be of grace.(2) It is the only instrument appointed by God to this end in an ordinary way.(3) It is, therefore, a necessary instrument. In regard of the reasonable creature there must be some declaration. God doth not ordinarily work but by means, and doth not produce anything without them which may be done with them. It is necessary the revelation of this gospel we have should be made. No man can see that which is not visible, or hear that which has no sound, or know that which is not declared. This necessity will further appear, if we consider that it always was so. Adam and Eve were the first after the Fall wherein God did constitute His Church, whose regeneration and conversion were wrought by that promise of the seed of the woman made to them in Paradise (Genesis 3:21). It seems to be the standing instrument of it to the end of the world (Psalm 68:18, compared with Ephesians 4:8, 9). It is necessary, by God's appointment, for all the degrees of the new birth, and all the appendixes to it. As God created the world by the Word of His power, and by the Word of His providence bid the creatures increase and multiply, so by the Word of the gospel He lays the foundation, and rears the building of His spiritual house. As it is not a natural instrument, but the only instrument appointed by God, and therefore, upon these and other accounts, a necessary instrument, so it is an instrument which makes mightily for God's glory. The meaner the appearance of the instrument, the more evident the power and skill of the workman. Consider, as it is an instrument, so but an instrument. God begets by the Word; the chief operation depends upon the Spirit of God. No sword can cut without a hand to manage it; no engine batter without a force to drive it.

II. How DOTH THE WORD WORK?

1. Objectively, as it is a declaration of God's will, as it doth propose to the understanding what it is to be known, in order to salvation. The Spirit gave us an eye to see, and the Word is the light which discovers the object to the eye. The two chief parts of the Word are —(1) The discovery of our misery by nature.(2) A second discovery is of the necessity and existence of another bottom. It discovers our misery by nature, and our remedy by Christ.

2. The Word seems to have an active force upon the will, though the manner of it be very hard to conceive. It is operative in the hand of God for sanctification.

III. THE USE.

1. How admirable, then, is the power of the gospel! It is a quickening Word, not a dead; a powerful Word, not a weak (Hebrews 4:12).(1) It is above the power of all moral philosophy. How excellent is that gospel which hath done that for the renewing of millions of souls, which all the wit and wisdom of the choicest philosophers could never effect upon one heart!(2) Above the power of the law. The natural law makes us serve God by reason, the Mosaical by fear, and the gospel by love.(3) Its power appears in the subjects it hath been instrumental to change. Souls bemired in the filthiest lusts have been made miraculously clean; it hath changed the hands of rapine into instruments of charity, hearts full of filth into vessels of purity; it hath brought down proud reason to the obedience of faith, and made active lusts to die at the foot of the Cross.(4) The power of it is seen in the suddenness of its operation. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, like the change at the last resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:51, 52).(5) And this hath been done many times by one part, one particle of the Word. One word of the gospel, a single sentence, hath erected a heavenly trophy in a soul, which all the volumes of the choicest mere reason could never erect; one plain Scripture hath turned a face to heaven that never looked that way before, and made a man fix his eye there against his carnal interest.(6) And this power appears in the simplicity of it. The gospel is, then, certainly of Divine authority. It shows us the reason why the gospel is so much opposed by Satan in the world. It begets those for heaven whom he had begotten for bell. We see, then, how injurious they are to God, who would obstruct the progress of the gospel in the world, that would hinder the reading and the preaching of the Word. It informs us that the gospel shall then endure in the world, as long as God hath any to beget. Men may puff at it, but they cannot extinguish it; it is a Word of truth, and truth is mighty, and will prevail. It is a sign, then, God hath some to beget, when He brings His gospel to any place. He hath a pleasure to accomplish, and it shall not return unto Him void. It informs us what an excellent thing is new birth! The end is more desirable than the means; this is the chief end of all the ordinances of God in the world. What a lamentable thing is it that so few should be now begotten by the Word of truth! Hereby you may examine whether you are new begotten. It instructs ministers how to preach. The opening the Word is the life of it, and the true means of regeneration. Highly glorify God for the Word of truth, which is so great an instrument. How thankful should we be for an invention, to secure our estates from consuming, houses from burning, bodies from dying! The gospel, the Word of truth, doth much more than this. Bless God in your hearts —

1. That ever you had the Word of truth made known to you.

2. Much more that it has been successful to any of you. Glorify God in your lives. As you feel the power of it in your hearts, let others see the brightness and efficacy of it in your actions. Prize the Word of truth, which works such great effects in the soul. Value that as long as you live, which is the cord whereby God hath drawn any of you out of the dungeon of death. Pray and endeavour for the preservation and success of the Word of truth. Were there a medicine that could preserve life, how chary should we be in preserving that? The gospel is the tree whose leaves cure the nations (Revelation 22:2). Wait upon God in the Word. Where there is a revelation on God's part, there must be a hearing on ours. Sit down, therefore, at the feet of God, and receive of His words (Deuteronomy 33:3).

(S. Charnock, B. D.)

I. Consider THE WORK OF GOD'S GRACE AMONG MEN IN ITS ORIGIN, This is ascribed to the absolute will of God. Has He not a right to do what He will with His own? and are not all things His own? Is He not absolute, uncontrolled, and sovereign, upholding all things at every moment, managing all creatures infallibly, from the hosts of angels that surround His throne down to the smallest particle of inanimate matter? Men talk of "the laws of nature," and if it be rightly understood, we need not object to that phrase. But let it be rightly understood. There can be no laws without a law-maker; there can be no administration of laws without a constant, living executive. Uniform, indeed, they are, but that arises from His perfection. The first time that God did anything He did it in the best way: He would not do it worse, and He could not do it better; therefore He always does it in the best way. These agencies are, then, to be depended on as regards uniformity. But they are not less the agencies of a living, present, acting Being. So it is also in the affairs of men. Men are as thoroughly under His power as matter, though not in the same way. It were to limit His power to say that He can only manage matter and must leave mind to itself. He manages mind in all its liberty as infallibly as He does matter in all its inertness. And so is it, too, in the smaller matters of private life. Health, sickness, wealth, poverty, happy homes or bitter afflictions, these are all under the sovereign arrangement of God, and according to "His own will." So, again, in the matter referred to in the text — the changing of the minds and hearts of fallen men — one is taken, and another left, according to God's will. "Many are called, and few are chosen": "of His own free Will." Is there danger in this high truth? Undoubtedly. There is danger to fallen man in every truth, arising not from the truth itself, but from the perverseness with which it is treated. Man, living to himself, either neglects or abuses truth, so that it becomes "a savour or death unto death." To say, then, that there is danger in truth, is to say nothing against the truth. Is there difficulty connected with the truth of which I have been speaking? Undoubtedly there is. Why should there not be? Does it reveal anything of God? Then it inevitably involves a difficulty. With a finite understanding either there must be absolute ignorance of God, or difficulty must be involved where the understanding fails. The slightest glimpse of God involves man in a horizon of knowledge. The extent of the horizon may vary a little between man and man; but to the highest created intellect there must still be a horizon, and in the horizon difficulty; and if that which presents the difficulty now were cleared away by some greater truth being exhibited at a greater distance, that new revelation would but occupy the place of the present one, and still leave a horizon to created intellect to all eternity. We do not pretend, then, to divest the truth of difficulty, in asking man to submit his intellect, as well as his will, to the majesty of God. Is there practical perplexity in the truth before us? Yes, there is, through the perverseness of man, who is ready to take advantage of any imaginary excuse for himself, and to throw the blame of his own sin upon God's sovereignty. But "let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man: but every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." There is the pedigree of everlasting death, which man is charged with bringing upon himself. But does it follow, that as man is the author of this evil, he may originate good? "Do not err, my beloved brethren. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. Of His own will begat He us." It is thus, then, that the apostle treats this subject. He declares, but explains not.

II. Consider THE NATURE OF IT. "Begat He us." The phrase is figurative, and the figure is very expressive. It describes a great moral change; a change as complete as that which takes place physically in the state of an infant between the period before and the period after its birth. All things have become new. The element in which it lives is new; the mode in which life is communicated is new. There is a direct exercise of God's power upon the man's spirit, an immediate agency of the Holy Ghost operating on his mind. Therefore it is that we say "you must be born again." "That which is born of the flesh is flesh." Man propagates his likeness, but man born again is brought into the likeness of God. It is not the effect of moral suasion or education, or of outward circumstances; it is not produced by the fear of consequences, or by the love of approbation amongst men, or by any of the thousand motives which actuate men in society, but it is wrought by the immediate agency of God upon the spirit of man, without which no man of the race of Adam can be pure or happy. We are all so thoroughly estranged from Him, so thoroughly taken up with creatures to the practical neglect of Him, and when we are compelled to think of Him we think of Him so unworthily and so selfishly, that without this change no man living can have worthy notions of God, or be happy even if admitted into His presence. Now how simply this accounts for the facts of the case as discovered when you look around you in the world i The unconverted men of this world are, as touching God and the things of God, like a man in a deep sleep as touching the things of the world around him. Imagine a man in a deep sleep; dreaming, possibly speaking in his dream; attentive to the visions of the mind on his bed, but quite unconscious of all that is going on around him. His house takes fire, but he knows nothing of it; he is asleep. The fire gains upon a part of the house which is distant from him; some of his children, perhaps, are burnt; but he knows nothing of it, he is still asleep. The fire approaches his own chamber; his wife, lying by his side, convulsed with terror, expires from suffocation; still he is asleep. The fire, however, at length reaches his own person. Now the spell is broken! he starts into sudden consciousness of what has been taking place. But it is too late: the house, the room, the bed, all are gone, and he sinks amid the ruin. Here is a history, in very few words, of the mass of mankind, as touching the things of God. They are dreaming busily of the affairs of this world; money, pleasure, ambition — these are the visions of their minds, and in the affairs of God they feel no more concern than the sleeping man in the state of his house. The hand of God is stretched out. Some of their enjoyments are cut off; some of their friends taken from them: their children are, it may be, snatched away and laid in an early grave, or a wife removed from their sight. Still the unconverted man dreams on, and he continues dreaming, until the Word of God touches himself. Then it is too late, and he sinks into a ruined eternity. Now this sounds very sad, but it is common, and in the course of the world there is nothing peculiar about it. It is, in a few words, I repeat, the history of the mass of mankind, the mass of the community around. I could not add truly the majority of yourselves; yet I cannot doubt that there are many in this congregation who are still in that position, and to whom God is saying, "Arise, ye that sleep; awake, and Christ shall give you light." You must be born again, or else be ruined. I know that it is of God's sovereign will that the new birth is brought about; but He constantly uses means, and I am now using the means which He has appointed for this end, namely, the Word of truth.

III. THE INSTRUMENT BY WHICH THIS GREAT CHANGE IS PRODUCED IN MAN. It is wrought, not by any charm, but by the secret power of God, using a suitable instrument for the purpose. "The Word of truth" is God's instrument. "Hear," says the prophet, "and your souls shall live." "Faith," says the apostle, "cometh by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God." The work, in virtue of which this change takes place — the work of Christ — is done. All that was necessary has been done; the Word of God proclaims it as done. And the Word of God further addresses itself to man as requiring this finished work. It addresses itself to him in the condition in which he is found as a fallen creature. It comes to him with light for his understanding, and with love for his affections. These are precisely what he requires; light in his understanding to rescue him from false estimates of things, love in his heart to deliver him from idolatry — the idolatry of creatures. Thus we discover the suitability of the instrument provided by God. Man's understanding is so darkened that he is constantly making false estimates. One grand item is constantly left out of his calculations; and you know that if any item be improperly left out of a calculation, the result must inevitably be erroneous. The grand item which is omitted in all the calculations of man is eternity. He makes calculations in which are included the things of this world only. I do not say that he takes into account only the brief space during which he himself will be in the world. Many worldly men have a posthumous ambition, and desire to benefit society, present and future. Still their views are confined to this world, and the things of this world, either in the present generation or in the persons of children and children's children. Improvement in political and social institutions, advances in civilisation, and the amelioration of the condition of the various classes of society, occupy man's attention; and his calculations, so far as these things are concerned, are often most accurate and valuable. Still the grand item is omitted. When society shall be reaping the benefit of such designs, in the persons of children and children's children, the fathers and the grandfathers, where are they? Eternity was not in their plans. They planned for the advantage of posterity, and posterity have obtained the benefit. But they planned nothing for their own salvation; and where are they? What did they value most? Let their history speak.

IV. After having stated the origin, nature and instrument of this work in the Church of God, the apostle adds a few words descriptive of THE PRESENT POSITION OF THE CHURCH RELATIVELY TO THE REST OF THE WORLD" "That we should be," he says, "a kind of first-fruits of His creatures." The creation is described in Scripture as in a groaning state. Man himself is described as "waiting for the manifestation of the sons of God." It is for the resurrection of the Church that the world is waiting and must wait. No scheme of man can regenerate, because no scheme of man can get rid of sin; no superstructure can stand which has sin at the foundation. The present state of things was intended to take people out of mankind — "a kind of first-fruits." Why is it said, "a kind of first-fruits?" Because the parallel is not exact. Christ is the first-fruits of the Church. The Church, as the first objects of His care, are to be brought to see what He is. "We shall be like Him when we see Him as He is." As the harvest is like the first sheaf, so shall the Church be like Christ.

(H. McNeile, D. D.)

I. To come to THE EXCELLENCY OF THE WORD, WHICH IS THE MEANS OF OUR REGENERATION, the apostle setteth down the other causes thereof also, so that in ver. 18 there are three causes of our regeneration the most apparent testimony of the goodness of God towards man.

1. The efficient.

2. The instrument.

3. The final cause.

1. The good will of God, the gracious favour and free purpose of God, is the first and efficient cause of salvation and regeneration in men.

2. The instrumental cause and means whereby we are regenerate is the Word of God, which St. James expresseth in this place.(1) In respect of God, the Word and gospel is the Word of truth, because it is God's Word and gospel, who cannot lie, therefore His Word is, then, the Word of truth.(2) As in respect of God, the Author thereof, the gospel may rightly be called the Word of truth, so in respect of Christ, who is the Matter, the very Subject whereof the gospel entreateth, it is the Word of truth, for it entreateth of Christ, and Christ is Truth itself, therefore is the gospel the Word of truth.(3) Moreover, this Word is inspired from the Spirit.(4) In respect that every particular thing in the gospel contained is true, therefore it is also the Word of truth. Whatsoever is there mentioned is most true. This is the seed of the new birth, from hence our new birth and regeneration ariseth. Whereof St. Paul speaking, testifieth to the Corinthians that he had begotten them through the gospel. If the gospel of Christ be the Word of truth, why do we not believe it? If it be the instrument of our regeneration, why do we not honourably embrace it? If thereby God hath begotten us again, why are we in any wise so careless of it; we come not to the hearing of this Word of truth? But either we talk out at table, or walk out abroad, or sleep out at home, or play out with company, or spend out in vain exercise, or contrive out with dalliance, or pass out by evil means, that time which is appointed for the preaching and hearing of the Word.

3. The final cause of our regeneration is that we should be the first-fruits of His creatures; that is, that out of the whole mass of mankind and kindreds of the earth, we might be select, culled and chosen out, to be a peculiar people unto Him, whose portion and lot, whose inheritance and peculiar people the saints are.

II. The Word of God being then so excellent, THE APOSTLE REMOVETH SUCH THINGS AS HINDER THE ATTENDING THEREUNTO; and the things which greatly hinder the Word are two:

1. Babbling and talking when we should hear with attentive and deep silence

2. Anger, when we are taught and reformed by the Word. Thus by the affections and perturbations of our minds, we oftentimes make the Word of God fruitless in us, and so to lose, not only the blessed effect it would work in us, but also, in a manner, the credit which it should have among men whereunto (were we the servants and true disciples of Christ) we would yield all attentive audience.

(R. Turnbull.)

The glory of a religion lieth in three things — the excellency of rewards, the purity of precepts, and the sureness of principles of trust. Now examine the gospel by these things, and see if it can be matched elsewhere.

1. The excellency of rewards.

2. Purity of precepts. That God's children are His first-fruits.The Word hinteth two things.

1. It noteth the dignity of the people of God in two regards —(1) One is, they are "the Lord's portion," His "peculiar people" (Titus 2:14), the treasure people, the people God looked after. The world are His goods, but you His treasure.(2) That they are the considerable part of the world. The first-fruits were offered for the blessing of all the rest (Proverbs 3:10).

2. It hinteth duty; as —(1) Thankfulness in all their lives. First-fruits were dedicated to God in token of thankfulness. You, that are the first-fruits of God, should, in a sense of His mercy, live the life of love and praise.(2) It noteth holiness. The first-fruits were holy unto the Lord. God's portion must be holy. God can brook no unclean thing. Sins in you are far more irksome and grievous to His Spirit than in others.(3) It noteth consecration. You are dedicated things, and they must not be alienated; your time, parts, strength, and concernments, all is the Lord's; you cannot dispose of them as you please, but as it may make for the Lord's glory; you are not first-fruits when you "seek your own things."

(T. Manton.)

According to the Levitical ceremonial, the first sheaf of the new crop, accompanied with sacrifice, was presented in the temple on the day after the Passover Sabbath. No part of the harvest was permitted to be used for food until after this acknowledgment that all had come from God. A similar law applied to the first-born of men and of cattle. Both were regarded as in a special sense consecrated to and belonging to God. Now, in the New Testament, both these ideas of "the first-born" and "the first-fruits," are transferred to Jesus Christ. In His case the ideas attached to the expression are not only that of consecration, but that of being the first of a series, which owes its existence to Him. That which Jesus Christ is, primarily and originally, all those who love Him and trust Him are secondarily and by derivation from Himself.

I. GOD'S PURPOSE FOR CHRISTIANS IS THAT THEY SHOULD BE CONSECRATED TO HIM. Man's natural tendency is to make himself his own centre, to live for self and by self. And the whole purpose of the gospel is to decentralise him and to give him a new centre, even God, for whom, and by whom, and with whom, and in whom the Christian man is destined, by his very calling, to live. Now, how can an inward devotion and consecration of myself be possible? Only by one way, and that is by the way of love that delights to give. Consecration means self-surrender; and the fortress of self is in the will, and the way of self-surrender is the flowery path of love. To take the metaphor of Scripture, the consecration which we owe to God, and which is His design in all His dealings with us in the gospel, will be like that of a priestly offering of sacrifice, and the sacrifice is ourselves. So much for the inward; what about the outward? All capacities, opportunities, possessions, are to be yielded up to Him as utterly as Christ has yielded Himself to us. We are to live for Him and work for Him; and set, as our prime object, conspicuously and constantly before us, and to be reached towards through all the trivialities of daily duty, and the common-places of recurring tasks, the one thing, to glorify God and to please Him. Now, remember, such consecration is salvation. For the opposite thing, the living to self, is damnation and hell and destruction. And whosoever is thus consecrated to God is in process of being saved. That consecration is blessedness. There is no joy of which a human spirit is capable that is as lofty, as rare and exquisite, as sweet and lasting, as the joy of giving itself away to Him that has given Himself for us. Such consecration, which is the root of all blessedness, and the true way of entering into the possession of all possessions, is only possible in the degree in which we subject ourselves to the influence of these mighty acts which God has done in order to secure it. "He gave Himself for us that He might purchase for Himself a people for His possession." My surrender is but the echo of the thunder of His; my surrender is but the flash on the polished mirror which gives back the sunbeam that smites it. We yield ourselves to God, when we realise that Christ has given Himself for us.

II. GOD'S PURPOSE FOR CHRISTIANS IS THAT THEY SHOULD BE SPECIMENS AND BEGINNINGS OF A GREAT HARVEST. The sheaf that was carried into the temple showed what sun and rain and the sweet skyey influences had been able to do on a foot or two of ground, and it prophesied of the acres of golden grain that would one day be garnered in the barns. And so, Christian men and women to-day, and even more eminently at that time when this letter was written, are meant to be the first small example of a great harvest that is to follow. If Christianity has been able to take one man, pick him out of the mud and the mire of sense and self, and turn him into a partially and increasingly consecrated servant of God, it can do that for anybody. "We have all of us one human heart." Whatever may be man's idiosyncrasies or diversities of culture, of character, of condition, of climate, of chronology, they have all the same deep primary wants, and the deepest of them all is concord and fellowship with God. And the path to that is by faith in His dear Son, who has given Himself for us. What a harvest is dimly hinted at in these words of my text; the "first-fruits of His creatures." That goes even wider than humanity, and stretches away out into the dim distances, concerning which we can speak with but bated breath; but at least it seems to suggest to us that, in accordance with other teaching of the New Testament, "the whole creation" which "groaneth and travaileth together in pain until now," will, somehow or other, be brought into the liberty and the glory of the children of God, and, as humble waiters and attenders upon the kings who are the priests of the Most High, will participate in the power of the redemption. At all events, there gleam dimly through such words as my text, the great prospects of a redeemed humanity, of a renewed earth, of a sinless universe, in which God in Christ shall be all in all.

III. GOD'S PURPOSE FOR CHRISTIANS IS THAT THEY SHOULD HELP THE HARVEST. That does not lie in the Levitical ceremonial of the sheaf of the first-fruits, of course. Though even there, I may remind you, that the thing presented on the altar carried in itself the possibilities of future growth, and that the wheaten ear has not only "bread for the eater, but seed for the sower," and is the parent of another harvest. But the idea that the first-fruits are not merely first in a series, but that they originate the series of which they are the first, lies in the transference of the terms and the ideas to Jesus Christ; for when He is called "the first-fruits of them that slept," it is implied that He, by His power, will wake the whole multitude of the sleepers; and when it speaks of Him as "the first-born among many brethren," it is implied that He, by the communication of His life, will give life, and a fraternal life, to the many brethren who will follow Him. And so, in like manner, God's purpose in making us "a kind of first-fruits of His creatures," is not merely our consecration and the exhibition of a specimen of His power, and the pledge and prophecy of the harvest, but it is that from us there shall come influences which shall realise the harvest of which our own Christianity is the pledge and prophecy. What do you get Christ for? To feed upon Him? Yes! But to carry the bread to all the hungry as well. Do not say you cannot. You can talk about anything that interests you. And are your lips to be always closed about Him who have given Himself for you? Do not say that you need special gifts for it. Any man and any woman that has Christ in his or her heart can go to another and say, "We have found the Messiah"; and that is the best thing to say. You ought to preach Him. To have anything in this world of needy men who are all knit together in the solidarity of one family — to have anything implies that you impart it. The corn laid up in storehouses gets gnawed by rats, and marred by weevils. If you want it to be healthy, and you own possession of it to increase, put it into your seed-basket; and "in the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand," and it will come back to thee, "seed for the sower and bread for the eater."

(A. Maclaren, D. D.)

I. LEGISLATION FOR THE EAR. "Be swift to hear."

1. The duty here enjoined is a readiness to listen to the pure, the generous, the true.

2. Teachableness is the state of mind required. This includes —

(1)Freedom from prejudice.

(2)Eagerness to learn.

II. LEGISLATION FOR THE TONGUE. "Slow to speak."

1. Evidently he does not mean —

(1)Unsocial taciturnity.

(2)A drawling utterance.

2. The slowness of speech he enjoins is that of cautiousness. Because we are in danger of speaking —

(1)The wrong thing.

(2)At the wrong time. Jesus often manifested a Divine reserve.

III. LEGISLATION FOR THE TEMPER. "Slow to wrath."

1. Men in this world of evil are in danger of being provoked to wrath.

2. Wrath in no case tends to excellence of character.

IV. LEGISLATION FOR THE LIFE. "Lay apart all filthiness," &c. The summing up of all. It insists upon —

1. Renunciation of all evil.

2. Appropriation of good.

(1)The thing received. "Ingrafted word." (a) Essential vitality of gospel. (b) Its fitness to human nature.

(2)The manner of receiving it.

(3)The reason for receiving it.

(U. R. Thomas.)

This is one of the wisest and most difficult sayings in Holy Scripture. In one line we are bidden to be both swift and slow. It concerns all, and affects the usefulness and happiness of each. We may be helped in our perception of its importance, and also in our power to observe it, if we bear in mind the words which come before. St. James there tells us that all good and perfect gifts come down from the Father of Lights. But, chief among those gifts, he would say, is that "new life," which he and his beloved brethren had received by means of the Word of truth. Thus he calls Christians the "first-fruits" of God's creatures. This is a very high title. The hearer is addressed as one not merely invested with great responsibility, but as holding a powerful post. The ground on which the apostle pleads with him is that he is in union with the Father of Spirits, the Most High God. Here we have not only an interesting historical notice, but a great encouragement to us in our present efforts to conduct ourselves aright. Some, indeed, might think that a man in close union with God is freed from much that ethers have to consider, that he is an exalted personage, above control, or at least has some of the supposed liberty of high place allowed to him. But it is not so. Because the Christian stands in the front rank of God's creatures, he is not, therefore, to carry himself confidently as if he were superior to the lessons which others need, and to be excused from showing that respectful reticence or caution which is idly assumed to become such as are in a lower position. As his spirit has been kindled from on high, the Christian, above all men, carries himself circumspectly. In so far as he is brought spiritually nearer to God, he is swift to hear. As he is closest to the throne, he is, above all, slow to speak. He, near of kin to the Spirit of Divine justice, is, above all, slow to wrath. He should know, better than any, that the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. This teaching of St. James is grand; towards its better realisation let us look at two or three of the chief ways in which we are called to its observance. One is seen in the formation of opinions, especially in regard to religion and the spiritual condition of our neighbour. The other appears in the regulation or economy of our ordinary life. I suppose it may be admitted that a common fault of religious people is impatience of instruction, and a readiness to pass judgment upon others. We are tempted to reverse the order of the Divine precept, and to become slow to hear and swift to wrath. But, in truth, as we are near to God, so we realise our ignorance and His tolerance. Thus, instead of being eager to deliver our verdicts, and to define His will, we hold back, lest our meddling interference and shortsighted decisions should mar the working of the Divine will, if not in larger ways, yet at least in our small circle and surroundings. We check our indignation in the presence of the great tide or stream of justice which is ever fulfilling itself. Perhaps our course in this respect ought to be most obvious and easy as we contemplate the great matters which concern the conduct and state of the Church at large. These are furthest removed from our personal influence. We might be expected to leave them most readily in the hands of God, content with the discharge of those duties which lie immediately around us. In fact, however, the things of the kingdom of heaven are often the most gaily and hastily disposed of by some. We settle doctrines and define the unseen. We give sentence on eternity. We print and publish the mind of God. Take the most ignorant talker you know, and he is ready to tell you all. Go to the wisest, and he will teach you most just in so far as he induces you to share his sense of ignorance. But there is another side to this. The perception that we deal with large things may not lead us into rash conjectures. The greatness of God's procedure may not have the effect of making us gaily confident, and ready to give sentence. Being gifted with inquisitive if not inquiring minds, we may be provoked at the largeness of our field of vision, and so provoked as to profess our inability to apprehend it with petulance and contempt of religion. There is, however, too much made in these days of man's intellectual defects, as if they need make him despair, or as if a limited apprehension of God's will took away the charm and joy of faith. The Christian's God tells him but little at a time. If we are beset with perplexities we can often do nothing but put them into the hands of Him with whom we are at one through the Christ. We are content for God to rule His own kingdom, and take the helm of His own ship. We are quick to hear, but slow to speak and slow to wrath, believing that He will justify Himself. Thus may we take the advice of St. James in respect to the greater matters of the kingdom of heaven. There is, however, an application of it in small things about which I would say a few words. "The sundry and manifold changes of the world" appear to most of us, not in national or cosmopolitan disorder, not in the conflict of religious opinions, but in the little demands, crosses, and accidents of ordinary life. We are often disturbed and upset by what we call "trifles." But the grace of God is intended to be used in small things as well as great. So it is in what we call nature. The law of gravitation affects the apple which drops from the tree and the spheres which move on in their courses. The glory of God clothes the lily in the valley and the sun in the sky. Divine force is used equally in the construction of the mountain and the molehill. And so each of us has daily need and opportunity for the application of the great power which rules the world. We are ever called and enabled to exercise Divine grace in the smallest human round of life. Remember that St. James bases his precept upon the fact that we are the first-fruits of "God's" creatures. And as we use Divine communion so we are really helped to keep the apostle's rule in our discharge of the homeliest duties. So, indeed, we find it to be. There are few, tempted to irritability, who have not sometimes found themselves checked in it by the employment of the highest motives. Many a man is occasionally enabled to rule his spirit by prayer, and by a very sacred resolve to command his temper and his tongue. True Christianity, as it can be practically exercised by most of us, is seen not in spasms of exceptional piety, or vehement strivings after great ends, but in bearing and forbearing amongst those with whom we most intimately live; in being swift to hear when our sympathy is needed, and slow to wrath when the skin of our feelings is pricked. Sometimes provocations become impotent as they are simply and sturdily ignored. They do so most readily as we realise our high place in God's kingdom, and our union with the Father of lights from whom every good gift descends, including the power to overcome vexation. Our sense of this union, too, is the secret of much success in work. Here is the Divine economy of strength. Accept the Almighty powers. Ally yourselves with them. Be in league with time and growth. Thus, taking the Divine lines of progress, the work will be God's, not yours. And this reticence, this abiding, this committing of self to Him that judgeth righteously, all the while with a strenuous reserve of force under control, will raise us above the sundry and manifold changes of the world. We shall not be indifferent to them, as a man on the eve of leaving a mean house for a better one glances with an unconcerned eye at the narrowness which once vexed him; but we shall have a mastery over them, a power of looking down on them with a sense that we are in union with the source of change, growth, and power, all working together in orderly sequence.

(H. Jones, M. A.)

The ear, the tongue, and the heart have all much to do with the life or practical conduct of the man of God, whose life-business, according to the law of the text, consists in "working the righteousness of God." The ear for learning, or acquiring what is to be gathered instruction; the tongue for teaching, or giving forth what we have thus acquired in a testimony of our own; the heart for the ordering of the affections or passions which sway the man, and give their own tone to his character, and all for the advancement of the work of righteousness. In reference to that everything that concerns the man is viewed and weighed. In the light of that, as the consummation to be wished for and attained, is the whole character placed, and every element that enters into its composition assigned its due proportion.

I. Every child of the Father of lights, being "swift to hear," is to be one who feels that he is a learner or listener, rather than a teacher, who "has not yet attained, neither is already perfect" in the knowledge of the truth to which he is "begotten" — who has more to get than he has to give. This is the pith and point of the contrast and antithesis between "swift to hear" and "slow to speak."

1. They have a revengeful and fervent love of the truth where-ever it is to be found, and freedom from prejudice, prepossession, and narrow foreclosure of any kind. They are the children of light. The Father of lights is their Father, and, as His genuine children, they like and long above all things to come to His light, to walk in His light, to see more and more, and still more, of His light every day, as long as they live in His world. They have a taste for the truth, an appetite for the truth, whose cravings must be satisfied; a hunger and thirst after the truth which makes them long to see it, or with all saints comprehend it in its length and breadth, and depth and height, as men who are in darkness long for the morning light.

2. These children of the light are meek and lowly in heart, like so many babes; they are conscious of their own ignorance, and know that the truth is a well, or flows from a fountain, too deep for them to sound or fathom with their puny line. Its length and breadth and depth and height, who can tell but the Father of lights? From Him, therefore, they ask instruction. To Him, and the means which He has graciously appointed for the purpose, they come for illumination. What a discipline is required to form this babe-like spirit, and prepare the soil of the heart and understanding for the reception of the good seed that is to be sown, our Saviour explains in many parts of His discourses and parables, and the history of Israel testifies (Deuteronomy 8:2, 3).

3. In this babe-like spirit, thirsting after the truth, the children of light are so teachable, so credulous, if you will, and full of holy curiosity, that they have an open ear, "an ear to hear," as our Saviour so often expresses it, wherever there is anything to be heard, an eye to see if there be a ray of light visible in the horizon revealing God the Father of lights. - A great man, and a great teacher of the truth, once said that the difference between himself and others to whom he was preferred was but this, that he was willing to learn from every one, and that there was no one from whom he did not learn something. He was indeed, a great man, if this was his character; for there is nothing in which one man is more distinguished from another. A man who knows himself, and is not proud and hard, but "swift to hear," makes himself a scholar, a learner, a listener, wherever he goes. Men and things have to him a meaning beyond what they have to others. Poverty and riches, health and sickness, life and death, prosperity and adversity, all come to him charged with a special message. In all, and in each, he hears his Father's voice (Psalm 107:43). Each in its way, and after its kind, is God's minister for good, for "all work together for good."

4. For the truth itself contained in the Word of God they have a special longing and liking, because it is the word and wisdom of God, by which they have been begotten, or made God's children, and by which they are supported in their spirits, as by their daily bread, and carried forward from the feebleness of babes to the strength and stature of the new Man, the Son of God, who is their Model and the spiritual Sun of their firmament.

II. Every child of the Father of lights who acts in character, as one begotten with the Word of truth and by the will of God to newness of life, is one who does not run to seed, or exhaust himself, by talking all he knows, or has, of religion, or allowing his life and light to expire and spend itself in words. We should have this day far more religion in our land, and a far higher style and standard of religion in the Church, as God's witness to the truth —

1. If every man were, as here commanded, slow to speak dogmatically and controversially about knotty or disputed points of doctrine or discipline.

2. We should not have less religion, nor a lower form of Christianity, and less perfect testimony for God, if Christians were slow to speak critically, in a way of judgment on others, or slow to speak of evil, and things that do not concern themselves, in any way.

3. Every man should be slow to speak boastfully of himself, or of himself at all, directly or indirectly, who wishes to be a child and witness of the Father of lights.

III. Slowness to wrath is another seal of the children of light begotten of the Father's own will by the Word of truth to be His witnesses in the new creation.

1. Proneness to wrath is a great and heinous sin, and fertile root of innumerable sins. In itself, in all its varieties of form, it is nothing less than murder, the spirit of murder, if it takes the shape of hatred or ill-will to the party who provokes it, or proceeds, as it most frequently does. from offended self-love, i part it is of that carnal mind which is enmity against both God and man, and is not, and refuses to be, subject to the law of God. Its emblem in the Word of God is some wild and furious beast, such as the bear, the wolf, the dog, the lion, the serpent.

2. This proneness to wrath is a besetting sin against which the man of God must be on his guard at every moment, and throughout his entire life. In the family, in the Church, in social and political life, in the transactions of business, and in hours of leisure and pleasure, slowness to wrath is the highest law of eternal life. None is so often forgotten. Of none is the breach followed by surer, or swifter, or more fearful penalties even in the present life, to say nothing of that beyond the grave.

3. It is by ceasing from wrath because it is sin against God, and being slow to wrath because this is the righteousness of God, that we become new-born babes or living men. Every victory that we obtain over the temptations or provocations to wrath is a victory over the devil, who is thus removed from us to a greater distance, and leaves our spirits, from which he is thus dispossessed, more open for Christ to come in and take lull possession. And He does come in whenever by slowness to wrath, and ceasing from wrath, and striving against wrath, in every form of bad temper, and ill humour, peevishness, fretfulness, rage, uncharitableness, we cease to keep Him out.

IV. Every living child of the Father of lights is one whose whole aim in life is to work the righteousness of God, and to promote it in others by every means in his power, as well as to beware of everything to its prejudice.

1. It is not an imputed righteousness, in the sense of the righteousness of another, but real, and actual, and personal righteousness, that is called here "the righteousness of God."

2. This righteousness is righteousness not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.

3. This righteousness of God is the work of God's Spirit.

4. This righteousness is the righteousness of faith working by love, and of faith and love united in a life of God.

(R. Paisley.)

1. From that" wherefore." It is a great encouragement to wait upon the ordinances, when we consider the benefits God doth dispense by them.

2. Again, from the illative particle "wherefore." Experience of the success of ordinances engageth us to a further attendance upon them. He hath begotten you by the Word of truth, "wherefore, be swift to hear." Who would baulk a way in which he hath found good, and discontinue duty when he hath found the benefit of it?

3. From that "let every one." This is a duty that is universal, and bindeth all men. None are exempt from hearing and patient learning. These that know most may learn more. Junius was converted by discourse with a ploughman.

4. From that "be swift," that is, ready. The commendation of duties is the ready discharge of them. Swiftness noteth two things —(1) Freeness of spirit; do it without reluctancy when you do it.(2) Swiftness noteth diligence in taking the next occasion; they will not decline an opportunity, and say, Another day. Delay is a sign of unwillingness.

5. From that "be swift to hear"; that is, the Word of God, for otherwise it were good to be slow in hearing. Divers things are implied in this precept. I shall endeavour to draw out the sense of it in these particulars.(1) It showeth how we should value hearing: be glad of an opportunity; the ear is the sense of learning, and so it is of grace; it is that sense that is consecrated to receive the most spiritual dispensations (Romans 10:14). Reading doth good in its place; but to slight hearing, out of a pretence that you can read better sermons at home, is a sin. Duties mistimed lose their nature; the blood is the continent of life when it is in the proper vessels; but when it is out, it is hurtful, and breedeth diseases.(2) It showeth how ready we should be to take all occasions to hear the Word. If ministers must preach "in season and out of season," a people are bound go hear. Heretofore lectures were frequented when they were more scarce. The wheat of heaven was despised when it fell every day (Amos 8:12).(3) It noteth readiness to hear the sense and mind of others upon the Word. We should not be so puffed up with our own knowledge, but we should be swift to hear what others can say. You do not know what may be revealed to another; no man is above a condition of being instructed. Divide self from thy opinion, and love things not because they suit with thy prejudices, but truth. "Be swift to hear," that is, to consider what may be urged against you.(4) It noteth what we should do in Christian meetings. If we were as patient and swift to hear as we are ready to speak, there would be less of wrath and more of profit in our meetings. I remember when a Manichee contested with , and with importunate clamour cried, "Hear me, hear me," the father modestly answered, "Neither hear me, nor I thee, but let us both hear the apostle."

6. That there are many cases wherein we must be slow to speak. This clause must also be treated of according to the restriction of the context; slow in speaking of the Word of God, and that in several cases.(1) It teacheth men not to adventure upon the preaching of the Word till they have a good spiritual furniture, or are stored with a sufficiency of gifts. John was thirty years old when he preached first (Luke 3:1). So was our Lord. Hasty births do not fill the house, but the grave.(2) It showeth that we should not precipitate our judgments concerning doctrines and points of divinity. The sudden conceptions of the mind are not always the best. There should be a due pause ere we receive things, and a serious deliberation ere we defend and profess them.(3) That we be not more forward to teach others, than to learn ourselves. Many are hasty to speak, but backward to do.(4) That we do not vainly and emptily talk of things of God, and put forth ourselves above what is meet: it is good to take every occasion, but many times indiscreet speaking doth more hurt than silence.(5) It teacheth us not to be over-ready to frame objections against the Word. It is good to be dumb at a reproof, though not deaf.

7. Renewed men should be slow to wrath. You must understand this with the same reference that you do the other clauses; and so it implieth that the Word must not be received or delivered with a wrathful heart: it concerneth both hearers and teachers.(1) The teachers. They must be slow to wrath in delivering the Word.(a) Let not the Word lacquey upon private anger: spiritual weapons must not be used in your own cause. The Word is not committed to you for the advancing of your esteem and interests, but Christ's.(b) Do not easily deliver yourselves up to the sway of your own passions and anger: people will easily distinguish between this mock thunder and Divine threatenings.(2) The people. It teacheth them patience under the Word.

8. It is some cure of passion to delay it. "Be slow to wrath." Anger groweth not by degrees, like other passions, but at her birth she is in her full growth; the heat and fury of it is at first, and therefore the best cure is deliberation (Proverbs 19:11). It is a description of God that He is "slow to wrath"; certainly a hasty spirit is most unlike God.

(T. Manton.)

The well-known wisdom of swiftness to hear and slowness to speak has been inculcated by teachers in all ages. On his disciples enjoined five years of preliminary silence. It was supposed that such a long probation in which there should be total abstinence from speech would give the disciples the advantage of hearing much and hearing it attentively; because the mind was not preoccupied with preparing and uttering an answer. There was supposed to be also the other advantage of pondering what was heard; so that it should be well marked and thoroughly digested. Some one has called attention to the fact that a man has two ears and but one tongue, and inferred therefrom that a man ought to hear at least twice as much as he speaks. As touching the matter of which James had been writing to his brethren, namely, their troubles, the temptations likely to arise there from, this admonition was most timely. They should be swift to hear. God, who had spoken to Elijah in the still small voice, was now speaking to them in their great trials. God is talking. He may speak slowly. We must "wait God's leisure." We must be attentive to the voice in the darkness, as little Samuel was to the night-voice in the temple. "God is His own interpreter"; but He never hurries; with Him a thousand years are as a day. And so we must be slow to speak; very slow to make cur own interpretation; and slower in making charges against God. If we speak incontinently, we shall not only be indiscreet, but we shall excite ourselves to anger. The tongue kindles. See what folly it is to be angry against God for His providences. Do we know what God is doing? Does not God know all things? Can He not relieve? And will He not relieve at the proper time and in the proper manner? See what a sin it is: that great, black sin of ingratitude. Has not every good gift enjoyed by us come from Him? What led Him to the bestowment of those gifts? Was not the motive wholly in Him? Does He ever change? Is He not the same? Whatsoever, therefore, comes from Him must be good. It is well to regulate our lives by the great precept, "Swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath," because of the injurious effect upon others of a failure to be guided thereby. Our circle of relatives and friends know how quick to advance opinions are those who are either ignorant or half-taught. If they discover that we are impatient of the speech of others, are unwilling to hear what may be said upon the other side, they will perceive in us an unchristian lack of charity for others as well as the absence of that modesty which always accompanies wisdom. If they find that we have an offhand opinion upon all the gravest questions which concern God and man, upon the most mysterious problems of the universe, they will lose respect for our utterances, and our influence over them for good will depart. If we are not slow to anger, it will exhibit such a want of self-control as will deprive us of the power of governing others.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

The Rev. Mr. Burridge being visited by a very loquacious young lady, who engrossed all the conversation of the interview with small-talk concerning herself, when she arose to retire, he said, "Madam, before you withdraw, I have one piece of advice to give you; and that is, when you go into company again, after you have talked half an hour without intermission, I recommend it to you to stop a while, and see if any other of the company has anything to say."

1. "Be swift to hear" — "swift," that is, ready, eager. "To hear" — what? Not everything, assuredly. There is much that is profane, impure, erroneous, frivolous, unprofitable. We cannot be too slow to hear, speaking of this description. The reference here is evidently to "the Word of truth," mentioned immediately before as that by which God had begotten the believers, who are addressed as a kind of first-fruits of His creatures. That James had it in view throughout is clear from the latter part of the 21st verse. All who would know What is required of them as God's children, and would be fitted for the doing of their Heavenly Father's will, must come into close contact with the sacred Scriptures. The secret of getting good from the study of the Word is this swift hearing. But there is a special reference in the expression to the preaching of the gospel by the lips of those entrusted with the ministry of reconciliation. We are to be "swift to hear." That implies very obviously that we are to seize all opportunities of hearing. We are to rejoice when it is said unto us, "Let us go into the house of the Lord." Not less does it imply fixed attention in hearing. We may be where the gospel is preached, there frequently, systematically, and yet have our ears closed against the entrance of truth, so as to profit no more than if we were absent.

2. "Slow to speak." The one is intimately connected with the other. What stands most in the way of many being ready to hear? What but their being so ready to speak. They have little time or taste for receiving instruction — they think themselves so well qualified for giving it. We are not forbidden to speak altogether; indeed, the very opposite is here implied, for what is enjoined is to be slow to do it, not to abstain from doing it entirely. To open our lips is often an imperative duty. We are to reprove evil-doers at fitting seasons, and in a right spirit. We are to instruct the ignorant and the erring as God gives us the opportunity. But even when we are in the path of duty we are to be "slow to speak." We are to weigh the matter well, and proceed calmly, thoughtfully, deliberately. We are to guard against all rash, reckless judgments, and to be very sure of our ground before we pronounce on the characters or the conduct of others. When constrained to break silence we should do it, not under some sudden impulse, or in a random way, but from conviction and with deliberation.

3. "Slow to wrath." While being "swift to hear" is a powerful means of sustaining the Christian life, being "swift to speak" is fitted to inflame corruption and stir up unholy passions. There is a place for wrath, and that is here intimated, for you observe it is not wholly forbidden. We are only to be slow to it, not speedy, not hasty. This last injunction is enforced by a weighty consideration (ver. 20), "For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God." "The wrath of man" — literally wrath of man, any such wrath, whatever the extent to which it goes, or whatever the circumstances in which it appears. By "the righteousness of God" we are to understand that which belongs to and is distinctive of His kingdom, that which He requires in all the subjects of it, and calls them to strive after, both in themselves and others. Such a passionate, angry spirit does not further His cause, it promotes not, it works not out, those holy ends for which the Church exists and souls are brought into its fellowship. It kindler the flame of controversy, and divides the friends of truth instead of subduing its enemies. It thus puts obstacles in the way of God's cause and glory.

(J. Adam.)

The synagogue, not the temple, of the Jews was the model on which the primitive Churches were constructed. And in the synagogue the function of teaching was not confined to any one order or caste. Any intelligent and devout man might be called upon, by the ruler of the synagogue, to address an exhortation to the people. And in the primitive Churches any member who had "a gift" might exercise his gift, whether it were native to him or "miraculous," for the benefit of the congregation. St. James wrote to the Jews of the Dispersion, to men who, though they were Christians, were also Jews; to men, therefore, in whom the habits formed in the synagogue would be familiar and dear. Probably many of them were too eager to hear their own voices, and too reluctant to listen to others. Nor are we so docile, so meek, that we can afford to put aside the exhortation as though it had no warning for us. But the exhortation is introduced by the word "wherefore" — a word which refers us to the previous clause of the letter, or to some phrase in it, for an answer to the question, "What is it that every man is to be swift to hear?" It is "the Word of truth." If we owe, as we do, every access of spiritual energy to a clearer and larger perception of God's will as revealed in His Word, should we not gladly take some pains to enlarge our knowledge of that Word, to lay hold with a firmer grasp of the truths we already know? But if we would be "swift to hear," we must be "slow to speak." Those whose tongues run fast have but dull ears, and are apt to lose the benefit of eves the little to which they listen. Of this general fact, that he who would be quick to hear must be in no hurry to speak, St. James makes a particular application which may not at once commend itself to our judgment. For as it is the Word of truth that he would have us eager to hear, so also, I suppose, it is the same Word that he would have us slow to utter. "But is it not our duty to speak the truth by which we ourselves have been renewed?" Well, yes, if we are strong enough and wise enough to speak it wisely, and without injury to ourselves and others. But a man may speak, and yet not be swift or eager to speak. And a wise man will be very sure that he knows before be speaks, and so knows his theme as to be able to teach others. Nor does it follow that, because you utter no audible words in church, that you therefore say nothing. You may sit composed in an attitude of decent or devout attention while the minister of the Church tries to open up some word of truth, and yet all the while you may be saying in your hearts, "How am I to meet that bill?" or "For whom shall I vote? and how will the election go?" or, "I wonder whether I shall meet So-and-so after service?" or, "I wonder how the servants, or the baby, are getting on at home?" So far it is easy to trace the meaning and connection of St. James's words. But when he goes on to add, ,' slow to wrath," we naturally ask if quick speech is in any way connected with quick anger. And we have hardly asked the question before we see the answer to it. Hasty speech is a sign of a hasty spirit. And surely he is speaking plain good sense when he warns us that "man's wrath worketh not God's righteousness," that our anger can in no way contribute to the formation or the cultivation of a righteous character, whether in ourselves or in our neighbours. While contending for the righteousness of God, we may become unrighteous by giving way to wrath, and cause our brother to lose his righteousness by provoking him to wrath. We do become unloving, and therefore unrighteous, when we contend with one another, even for a good cause, in these evil heats of passion. Such heats of passion in no way contribute to the culture of the soul. They are bad husbandry. They breed only a foul and rank growth which quickly overruns and impoverishes the soil, and amid which no "herb of grace," no plant of righteousness, will thrive. If we are wise husbandmen, if we aim at that perfection of character which the apostle holds to be our chief good, we shall clear the soil of these evil growths; we shall cut them down and burn them up, and so make room for the implantation of that Word of truth which brings forth the peaceable fruits of righteousness.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

The talking man makes himself artificially deaf, being like a man in the steeple when the bells ring.

(J. Taylor, D. D.)

A very talkative youth came to Socrates to study oratory. The philosopher charged him double price, stating as a reason that he must teach the youth two sciences; how to hold his tongue, and how to speak.

Swift accords high praise to Stella (Mrs. Johnson) for the fact that "she never interrupted any person who spoke." "She listened to all that was said, and had never the least absence or distraction of thought."

(On the Death of Mrs. Johnson.)

One of Dean Swift's most appreciative correspondents, Lady Betty Brownlowe, begging leave to be present at his proposed meeting at Cashel with the Archbishop, expresses her certainty "that you would allow me to be a good listener," "for I assure you I have too great a desire to be informed and improved to occasion any interruption in your conversation, except when I find you purposely let yourself down to such capacities as mine, with an intention, as I suppose, to give us the pleasure of babbling."

(Letters, May 19, 1735.)

It is a common saying that every one has a temper but a fool. Certainly he who sees wrong done without feeling angry must be either a fool or a knave. The capability of anger is one of our most valuable endowments. Anger, to use Locke's words, "is an uneasiness or discomposure of the mind" which springs up when injury has been done to ourselves or to others; and its purpose is to stimulate us to a remedial course. The protective power of this passion is very great. "It is a moral power which tends to repair the inequality of physical power, and to approximate the strong and the weak towards the same level." But, however useful and necessary, the passion of anger becomes very dangerous when it is not criticised and controlled by reason. When we yield without reflection, anger degenerates into bad temper — into what our text calls "the wrath of man."

1. Reflection may show us that we have no right to be angry at all. Wrath is only righteous when applied to moral wrong. St. truly says, "Anger is a sort of sting implanted in us, that we might therewith attack the devil, and not one another." In this matter, as in all others, Christ should be our example. How often must He have been grieved, disappointed, and vexed at the unsympathetic conduct of His disciples. Yet He was never angry with them. His anger was exhibited only against the mischievous cant of the Pharisees and Scribes.

2. Reflection may show that, though we may have cause for anger, yet our anger is excessive. There are persons who are almost always out of temper, who will get in a rage at anything, or even at nothing. They are more enraged at the thwarting of their smallest whim, than at the most flagrant act of injustice inflicted upon any one else. All such excessive manifestations of anger may be cured by thought. For our anger spontaneously subsides, when we become convinced that there is no real ground for it.

3. Reflection may show that though the feeling of anger is unavoidable, and though its manifestation would be legitimate, it will be better for us, under the circumstances, not to show it. The finest illustration of this will be familiar, no doubt, to many of you. It occurs in Victor Hugo's most celebrated novel, and it deserves to be written in letters of gold. You remember how Jean Valjean, who had been known to himself and others for the last nineteen years as No. 5623, and who has at last been dismissed from the galleys on a ticket-of-leave — you remember bow he walks wearily along in the dust and heat, how he is turned out of the various inns, repulsed from every door, and even chased from an empty dog-kennel into which he has crawled for shelter. He wanders on again, saying despairingly to himself, "I am not even a dog." By and by he comes to the house of the good old Bishop Myriel. He knocks and enters, and tells his story. The bishop, to the great discomposure of his house. keeper and the utter bewilderment of Valjean, orders a bedroom to be prepared for him, and invites him in the meantime to take a seat at the supper-table. After supper, the bishop conducts him to his room, and the poor man lies down and falls asleep. In the middle of the night he wakes and begins to think; and the result of his thinking is, that he will get up and make elf with the silver dishes which he had seen on the table the previous evening. He does so, but is soon captured by the police and brought back. The bishop dismisses the gendarmes, pretending that he had made the man a present of the silver, and asking him why he had not taken the candlesticks as well. When they were left alone together, he says to the astonished thief, "Jean Valjean, my brother, never forget you have promised to employ this silver which I have given you in becoming an honest man. You belong no more to evil, but to good. I have bought your soul. I reclaim it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God." You know the result. From that day Valjean was a changed man. He became one of the noblest characters in the whole range of the world's fiction. Fiction? Yes; but fiction that is true to fact. Cases will sometimes arise when, by restraining an anger perfectly legitimate and withholding a punishment perfectly merited, we may save a soul from death.

4. Reflection may show us that though the feeling of anger was legitimate, and though it was right and desirable to manifest it, yet the feeling has lasted long enough and may now be dismissed. "Anger resteth," says the author of Ecclesiastes, "in the bosom of fools." It arises in the bosom of wise men, but it remains only in the bosom of fools. If we treat men according to the first promptings of anger, we shall almost always do them wrong. It is most important that we should pause and reflect, whenever we have it in our power to inflict punishment. Plato on one occasion, being highly incensed against a servant, asked a friend to chastise him, excusing himself from doing it on the ground that he was in anger. Carillus, a Lacedemonian, said to a slave who had been insolent to him, "If I were not in a great rage I would cause thee to be put to death." We may then lay it down as a general rule that the more eager we are to inflict immediate punishment, the more necessary it is for us, if we would avoid sin, to pause and reflect. So far I have been endeavouring to show that bad temper — i.e., the thoughtless yielding to the first promptings of anger — is wrong. Now let me point out that it is also impolitic. It is our interest, as a rule, apart altogether from moral considerations, to keep our anger under the control of our reason. An exhibition of bad temper is the very last thing in the world by which to get one's self better treated. Everybody is pleased to meet, and glad to serve, the good tempered man; but as for the bad-tempered man, people are perfectly satisfied if they can only manage to keep out of his way. The bad policy of ill temper was very neatly pointed out by Queen Elizabeth. There was a certain hot-tempered courtier on whom her Majesty had not yet bestowed the promotion which she had promised. Meeting him one day, she asked him, "What does a man think of when he thinks of nothing?" "He thinks, madam, of a woman's promise," was the reply. "Well," said the queen, walking away, "I must not confute you. Anger makes men witty, but it keeps them poor." But once more, bad temper is exceedingly unbecoming. In this respect it may be distinguished from anger. As I pointed out before, legitimate manifestations of anger are impressive and awe inspiring — so much so, that they frequently enable the weak to offer a successful resistance to the injuries with which they are threatened by the strong. But the person who is, as we say, "in a temper" — that is, in a bad temper — always appears ridiculous. Jeremy Taylor says — "It makes the voice horrid, the eyes cruel, the face pale or fiery, the gait fierce, the speech clamorous and loud, and the whole body monstrous, deformed, and contemptible." I am sure that those who are at all particular about their personal appearance, might be cured for ever of their bad temper, if only they could be induced, during some violent paroxysm, to gaze into a looking-glass. They would receive a shock that would make them changed characters for the rest of their lives. But permit me to add one warning. I have spoken strongly. I believe that there is nothing more contemptible, and few things more mischievous, than bad temper. But though I would have you very strict and inexorable in judging yourselves, I would have you very gentle and lenient in judging others. Take care lest you mistake for bad temper what is only the involuntary manifestation of physical pain. An invalid once told me that her nearest approach to comfort consisted in being only a little uncomfortable. Now this chronic presence of pain should cover a multitude of seeming sins. If, then, you are uncertain whether any one's hastiness of speech and manner be ill temper or not, whether it be the expression of a bad state of the heart or only a bad state of health, give them the benefit of the doubt — deal very gently with them, I beseech you, for Christ's sake.

(A. W. Momerie, M. A.)

1. From the context. The worst thing that we can bring to a religious controversy is anger. The context speaketh of anger occasioned by differences about the word. Usually no affections are so outrageous aa those which are engaged in the quarrel of religion, for then that which should bridle the passion is made the fuel of it, and that which should restrain undue heats and excesses engageth them. However, this should not be. Christianity, of all religions, is the meekest and most humble.

2. "Worketh not the righteousness." Anger is not to be trusted; it is not so just and righteous as it seems to be. Anger, like a cloud, blinds the mind, and then tyrannises over it. When you are under the power of a passion, you have just cause to suspect all your apprehensions; you are apt to mistake others, and to mistake your own spirits. Passion is blind, and cannot judge; it is furious, and hath no leisure to debate and consider.

3. From that "anger of man" and "righteousness of God." Note the opposition, for there is an emphasis in those two words "man" and "God." The point is, that a wrathful spirit is a spirit most unsuitable to God. God being the God of peace, requireth a quiet and composed spirit. Wrathful men are most unfit either to act grace or to receive grace.

4. The last note is more general, from the whole verse: that man's anger is usually evil and unrighteous. I shall therefore endeavour two things briefly —

1. Show you what anger is sinful.

2. How sinful, and how great an evil it is.First, to state the matter, that it-is necessary, for all anger is not sinful; one sort of it falleth under a concession, another under a command, another under the just reproofs of the Word.(1) There are some indeliberable motions, which calleth propassions, sudden and irresistible alterations, which are the infelicities of nature, not the sins; tolerable in themselves, if rightly stinted (Ephesians 4:26). He alloweth what is natural, forbiddeth what is sinful.(2) There is a necessary holy anger, which is the whetstone of fortitude and zeal (2 Peter 2:7; Mark 3:5; Exodus 11:8).(a) The principle must be right. God's interests and ours are often twisted, and many times self interposeth the more plausibly because it is varnished with a show of religion; and we are more apt to storm at indignities and affronts offered to ourselves rather than to God.(b) It must have a right object: the heat of indignation must be against the crime, rather than against the person: good anger is always accompanied with grief; it prompteth us to pity and pray for the party offending.(c) The manner must be right. See that you be not tempted to any indecency and unhandsomeness of expression.(3) There is a sinful anger when it is either —(a) Hasty and indeliberate. Rash and sudden motions are never without sin.(b) Immoderate, when it exceedeth the merits of the cause, as being too much, or kept too long.(c) Causeless, without a sufficient ground (Matthew 5:22).(d) Such as is without a good end. The end of all anger must be the correction of offences, not the execration of our own malice.Secondly, how sinful it is.

1. Nothing more makes room for Satan (Ephesians 4:26, 27).

2. It much wounds your own peace.

3. It disparages Christianity.

(T. Manton.)

It is said of the Rev. Mr. Clarke, of Chesham Bets, that when one observed to him "there was a good deal in a person's natural disposition," he made this answer: "Natural disposition! Why, I am naturally as irritable as any; but when I find anger, or passion, or any other evil temper arise in my mind, immediately I go to my Redeemer, and, confessing my sins, I give myself up to be managed by Him. This is the way that I have taken to get the mastery of my passions."

(K. Arvine.)

Let us see what alleviations and remedies go to the healing of this Satan's vice of anger. The masters in the spiritual life give us recommendations like these: First, do not listen to tale-bearers. Tale-bearers go about with a lighted torch, not to set our houses on fire, but our hearts. Our hearts are weak, and easily misled; and the story of a tale-bearer is like dropping a hot coal on it. Then he goes away to the next door, but he leaves us in gloom; and, if we are wise men, we will say to him the next time he comes, "You put me in a passion by your last visit. I have since sprung out at my friend, my minister, my church. I have been a fool, and I have repented of my folly all these days." It is better to throw a firebrand into a man's house than into his heart. If anything makes you angry, truth, and goodness, and love are lost. Another specific for the angry man is this: Have a low opinion of yourself. If you have a true opinion of yourself, you will not easily be made angry at what is said about you. Think how unworthy you are, how few talents you have; and so, when any one tells you, you have no talents, no ability, no wisdom, you will say to him, "Man, I have said that on my knees this morning; that is nothing new." It is the proud man, the self-conceited man, who is easily made angry; so cultivate a low opinion of yourself, if you would avoid this sin. Thirdly, have a picture before your mind's eye of a meek, and peaceful, and loving soul. Dante made Mary appear as the pattern of some sweet grace in every cornice on the sanctifying mount. Give Mary her place in your panorama of meekness, but have her Son always first. He it was who endured such contradiction of sinners, and it is contradiction that rouses us. Have these sweet, inspiring visions ever before you to raise your hearts. Drink in the sweet visions of peace and the Peacemaker. Lastly, use some means of mortifying your anger daily. So says Jeremy Taylor, from whom I have borrowed nearly all my sermon. If a man does not do this, his heart will every day be a misery, and his house a den of wild beasts.

(A. Whyte D. D.)

It must be quite clear to any one who examines into the gospel of Christ as a cause or principle of action, that a meek and quiet spirit should be at once the distinguishing ornament and characteristic of believers. St. James lays down as principles that the unchanging God is the Giver of every good gift; and that it is by an exercise of His omnipotent will that He has begotten His spiritual children with the Word of truth. This appears to me, I say, an irrefutable argument I If we admit the premisses — that we are God's children, begotten again in Jesus Christ to a lively hope by the Word of His grace; and that, as children partake of the same nature with their parent, so we are made partakers of the Divine nature, which is holiness, then we are bound to admit the conclusion that it is our leading duty to seek to work out the righteousness of God! And, farther, that if the wrath of man worketh not that righteousness, we are bound to eschew it, and then to cultivate that meek and quiet spirit which is according to the mind of Christ. And now consider with me the great object of our vocation propounded in the text. That object is "to work out the righteousness of God." How holy a privilege is here held up for the exercise of Christians! How worthy an object for the greatest efforts of the greatest mind! I am desirous now to lead your minds to consider the reverse of the apostle's negative assertion, and to point out to you that if wrath does not work out the righteousness of God, what it is that does. Hear what St. John says upon this point, "Let no man deceive you: He that doth righteousness is righteous, even as He (i.e., God) is righteous"; "Whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother"; this exactly accords with the doctrine of St. James, "Be ye doers of the Word and not hearers only." Whence it appears that an identity of will between God and man produces an identity of effect. An identity, that is, not in the perfectness of the righteousness, nor of the amount of it, but in the general tone of mind and action, so that the converted man seeks no longer as his main object the fulfilment of selfishness and carnal desires, but rather the righteousness of God. If you have felt your spirits stirred within you, and yourselves deeply moved —

1. In the reception of God's revelation;

2. In feeling that revelation as a reality, not merely believing it as a theory; and —

3. In acting upon it as an unfailing rule of life; then I conceive that you may without presumption apply the comforting promises of the gospel to your own souls, and trust in humility that God's Spirit within you is working God's righteousness by you.

(Bp. Mackenzie.)

I. You ARE ALL AWARE OF THERE BEING MUCH WRATHFUL CONTROVERSY ON THE PART OF MEN RELATIVE TO THE GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST, wherein the righteousness of God is said by the apostle to be revealed from faith to faith. Is there no danger, we ask, amid the acerbities of such a thickening warfare, that men should lose sight of the mildness and the mercy that lay in that embassy of peace by which it had been stirred? Surely the noise that arises from the wars and the wranglings of earth, falls differently upon the hearing to that sweetest music which descended from the canopy that is over our heads, and which accompanied the declaration of good-will to us in heaven. And so, altogether, that theology which shines immediate from his Bible on the heart of the unlettered peasant, may come with altered expression and effect on the mind of the scholastic, after it has been transmuted into the theology of the portly and polemic folio. The Sun of Righteousness may shed a mild and beauteous lustre upon the one, which to the eye of the other is obscured in the turbulence of rolling vapours, in the lurid clouds of an angry and unsettled sky. When God beseeches us to be reconciled to Him in Christ Jesus, there is placed before the mind one object of contemplation. When man steps forward, and, in the pride or intolerance of orthodoxy, denounces the fury of an incensed God on all who put not faith in the merits and the mediation of His Son, there is placed before the mind another and a distinct object of contemplation. And just in proportion to the varieties of dogmatism or debate will the mind shift and fluctuate from one contemplation to another. It is thus that the native character of Heaven's embassy may at length be shrouded in subtle but most effectual disguise from the souls of men; and the whole spirit and design of its munificent Sovereign be wholly misconceived by His sinful yet much-loved children. We interpret the Deity by the hard and imperious scowl which sits on the countenance of angry theologians; and in the strife and clamour of their fierce animosities, we forget the aspect of Him who is upon the throne, the bland and benignant aspect of that God who waiteth to be gracious. And, though not strictly under our present head of discourse, there is one observation more which we feel it of importance to make ere we pass on to the next division of our subject. Apart from the transforming effect of human wrath to give another hue as it were to the complexion of the Godhead, and another expression than that of its own native kindness to the message which has proceeded from Him, there is a distinct operation in the mind of an inquirer after religious truth which is altogether worthy of being adverted to. When the controversialist makes an angry demand upon us for our belief in some one of his positions, why, that position may be the offered and the gratuitous mercy of God in heaven, and yet the whole charm of such a proposal may be dissipated, just through that tone and temper of intolerance in which it is expounded to us upon earth. We are aware, all the time, that the truth, as it is in Jesus, must be sustained by argument — that this is one of the offices of the Church militant upon earth, whose part it is to silence gainsayers; and not only to contend, but to contend earnestly, for the faith which was delivered unto the saints. Yet it is not in the clangour of arms, or in the shouts of victory, or in the heat and hurry even of most successful gladiatorship — it is not thus that this overture of peace and pardon from heaven falls with efficacy upon the sinner's ear. It is not so much in the act of intellectually proving the truth of the doctrine, as in the act of proceeding upon its truth, when we affectionately urge the sinner to make it the stepping-stone of his return unto God — it is then most generally that it becomes manifest unto his conscience, and that he receives in love that which in the spirit of love and kindness has been offered to him.

II. I shall now consider THE EFFECT OF MAN'S WRATH, WHEN INTERPOSED BETWEEN A RIGHT AND A WRONG DENOMINATION OF CHRISTIANITY. It can require no very deep insight into our nature to perceive, that when there is proud or angry intolerance on the side of truth, it must call forth the reaction of a sullen and determined obstinacy on the side of error. Men will submit to be reasoned out of an opinion, and more especially when treated with respect and kindness. But they will not submit to be cavalierly driven out of it. There is a revolt in the human spirit against contempt and contumely, insomuch that the soundest cause is sure to suffer from the help of such auxiliaries. Nevertheless, it is the part of man, both to adopt and to advocate the truth, lifting his zealous testimony in its favour. Yet there is surely a way of doing this in the spirit of charity; and while strenuous, while even uncompromising in the argument, it is possible surely to observe all the amenities of gentleness and good-will in these battles of the faith. For example, it is not wrong to feel either the strength or the importance of our cause, when we plead the Godhead of the Saviour. Yet with all these reasons for holding ourselves to be intellectually right upon this question, there is not one reason why the wrath of man should be permitted to mingle in the controversy. This, whenever it is admitted, operates not as an ingredient of strength, but as an ingredient of weakness. Let Truth be shrined in argument — for this is its appropriate glory. And it is a sore disparagement inflicted upon it by the hand of vindictive theologians, when, instead of this, it is shrined in anathema, or brandished as a weapon of dread and of destruction over the heads of all who are compelled to do it homage. Truth will be indebted for her best victories, not to the overthrow of Heresy discomfited on the field of argument, but to the surrender of Heresy disarmed of that in which her strength and her stability lie — of her passionate, because provoked, wilfulness. Charity will do what reason cannot do. It will take that which letteth out of the way — even that wrath of man, which worketh neither the truth nor the righteousness of God.

(T. Chalmers, D. D.)

Let not external circumstances regulate your demeanour. But let them be governed by your strong will acting under a sense of what is right. Your temper will then be equable as it should be. Just look at the plants. One of their most mysterious properties is that of regulating their temperature. The twigs of the tree are not frozen through in winter, neither does their temperature mount up in summer in proportion to the external heat. Their vitality protects them equally from both extremes. And when you are yielding too much to mere external influences just think of this.

(Scientific Illustrations and Symbols.)

I. THAT TO LAY APART ALL THE FILTHINESS AND SUPERFLUITY OF NAUGHTINESS HERE MENTIONED IS NECESSARY FOR EVERY ONE WHO INTENDS TO BE A TRUE CHRISTIAN. Plain as this may seem to be, it is fit to be taken notice of.

1. Because there are some who, though they maintain no such principles in speculation, yet in their practice seem to compromise matters between their vicious inclinations and the Divine laws; and are by no means so holy, so free from all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, as the religion of Jesus requires them to be.

2. Because there are others professing Christianity who, even by their doctrines, would reconcile some sorts of impurity with it.

II. THAT THERE IS A PARTICULAR CONNECTION BETWEEN OUR CLEANSING OURSELVES FROM SUCH POLLUTIONS, AND OUR PROFITABLY HEARING, THE WORD OF GOD. It is self-evident that the better disposed the mind is, the more likely it must be to receive and retain the heavenly instructions. As a vessel which is empty, clean, and sound, is best fitted to receive and retain pure water, or any such liquor poured into it. Whereas, on the contrary, the foul exhalations of lust will be apt to exclude the Word.

III. THAT MEEKNESS, OR A FREEDOM FROM PASSION AND PREJUDICE, AND WHATEVER ELSE IS IMPLIED IN THAT WORD, IS MORE ESPECIALLY REQUISITE IN ORDER TO SUCH PROFITABLE HEARING. "As new-born babes, desire the sincere milk of the Word that ye may grow thereby," Receive it with the mature understandings of men, but with the unprejudiced wills of children; with the sweetness, innocence, and simplicity of infants.

IV. THAT THE WORD OF GOD HAS A MOST POWERFUL, NAY, A NEVER-FAILING EFFICACY TO SAVE OUR SOULS (see 2 Timothy 2:15).

V. THAT IT IS A VAIN THING TO HEAR IT UNLESS WE PRACTISE IT; AND THAT WE DO BUT DECEIVE OURSELVES IF WE EXPECT ANY BENEFIT FROM THE FORMER WITHOUT THE LATTER.

(Joseph Trapp, D. D.)

I. THE OBJECT. By the ingrafted Word we are to understand the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, which began to be engrafted or planted in the hearts of men when our Lord and His apostles entered on the ministry.

II. THE PROPERTY ascribed to it.

III. THE QUALIFICATION, how it must be received.

1. Meekness is such a good disposition of mind as prepares men for the reception of the gospel. It is also such a disposition as may be under the influence of grace, acquired by prudential motives and considerations, such as the notions of God's infinite power, justice, and truth; the presages of conscience that rewards and punishments must be distributed equally some time or other.

2. And as this good disposition may be acquired by these and the like considerations, for this reason we ought to distinguish it from some things that are thought to bear a resemblance to it.(1) It ought to be distinguished from nature, which, being defiled by the first transgression, is the greatest obstacle of a ready obedience to God's commands.(2) This good disposition of spirit ought to be distinguished from what we call good nature, because this has a regard chiefly to civil conversation betwixt man and man, and discovers itself either by doing or receiving good offices, and that with a desire to please and oblige others.(3) This good disposition ought to be more especially distinguished from a contemptible, abject spirit, which is a character profane men are wont to affix upon this excellent qualification.(4) This tractable, meek spirit ought to be distinguished also from that mean, abject spirit that takes shelter in an implicit faith.

3. I proceed to show how necessary this qualification of meekness is to us in the state we are in, and that with reference only to the mysteries of faith. Which way soever the controversy turns, the mysteries of it continue still, and must continue till time shall be no more. In this case whatever assistance we crave from reason, reason rightly informed will tell us, first, that this is not a matter that lies properly within her verge and jurisdiction.

(S. Estwick, B. D.)

I. By "THE WORD" I understand the Word of God; which Word of God may be considered either as it is written in the Scripture, or as it is preached by the ministers of Christ.

II. WE PROFIT by the Word when we get that good and spiritual advantage from it for which it was designed by God. Now, God hath appointed His Word —

1. For learning and instruction.

2. For conversion. The Word turns man unto God —(1) As it discovers sin (1 Corinthians 14:24, 25).(2) As it brings people to the confession of sins (Matthew 3:6; Acts 19:18).(3) As it works a kindly mourning and sorrow for sin (Acts 2:37; Nehemiah 8:9; Jeremiah 3:21).(4) As it works amendment and reformation (1 Thessalonians 1:9; Colossians 1:5, 6).

2. For the building up of those that are called, converted, and sanctified (Acts 20:32; Acts 18:27; 1 Timothy 4:6).

4. For consolation (1 Corinthians 14:31; Acts 8:5, 8). Now the Word comforts —(1) As it opens God's attributes, such as His mercy, wisdom, faithfulness, and power:(2) As it discovers Christ, the promises and privileges of the saints.(3) As it discovers and reveals the marks and characters of God's children.(4) As it answers the doubts and fears of saints.

III. How WE SHALL PROFIT by hearing the Word.

1. Hear it attentively (Mark 4:2, 3: Acts 13:16; Revelation 2:7).

2. With meekness.

3. With a good and honest heart.

(1)An understanding heart.

(2)A believing heart.

(3)A loving heart.

4. Keep what you hear of it (Luke 8:15; 1 Thessalonians 5:21; 1 Corinthians 15:2).

(1)Repeat it in your families.

(2)Talk of it as you go from hearing.

(3)Pray to the Lord that He would preserve the Word in your heart by His Spirit.

(Thos. Senior, B. D.)

There are two ways of treating the seed. The botanist splits it up, and discourses on its curious characteristics; the simple husbandman eats and sows, sows and eats. Similarly there are two ways of treating the gospel. A critic dissects it, raises a mountain of debate about the structure of the whole, and relation of its parts; and when he is done with his argument, he is done; to him the letter is dead; he neither lives on it himself, nor spreads it for the good of his neighbours; he neither eats nor sows. The disciple of Jesus, hungering for righteousness, takes the seed whole; it is bread for to-day's hunger, and seed for to-morrow's supply.

(W. Arnot, D. D.)

As "filthiness" (which is the literal import of the original word — a word which occurs only here in the New Testament) of the outward person is offensive to the senses of one who is of cleanly and delicate taste and habits, so offensive is sin or moral evil to the spiritual sensibilities of the new man; of him who is "begotten of God," and whose "seed remaineth in him" — the seed of the pure "Word of God." The exhortation will thus correspond very closely with that of another apostle, which is also connected with the representation of believers as belonging to God's family (2 Corinthians 7:1). Then — retaining the same view of the connection — the word rendered "naughtiness" will naturally be taken in its largest and most general acceptation as meaning "evil" — evil, that is, in principle, affection, and conduct. I am inclined, however, without being positive, to understand the connection of the words as more immediate with the preceding two verses; and as referring especially to the outward expression or utterance of that "wrath of man which worketh not the righteousness of God." In this way, I would interpret "filthiness" of the vile abusive language in which that wrath is ever prone to indulge itself; of ribaldry — coarse and foul invective. And this corresponds well with the style of the writer, who dwells afterwards at such lengths on the evils of the tongue. The low abuse of a wrathful and misguided zeal was one description of the "filthy communication" which Paul, too, commands believers to "put off." On the same principle, I take the word rendered here "naughtiness," to have the sense of malice or maliciousness, rather than the more general sense of evil. These things they were to "lay apart" as hindrances to the reception and influence of God's Word, as at variance with the temper of mind necessary to its right reception and its right operation. "Meekness" has here the distinctive sense of an humble, calm, childlike docile disposition. It is a state of mind unreservedly open to the instructions and directions of Divine wisdom and Divine authority; conscious of ignorance and of proneness to err. The Word is denominated "the engrafted Word," or the implanted Word. The more usual figure is that of seed — seed sown in the heart. Hence it is a shoot — a shoot, as it were, from the tree of life — implanted in the same soil by the agency of God's Spirit. It becomes the plant of grace in the heart; and, in the life, "brings forth fruit unto God." And of that "implanted Word" it is here added, "which is able to save your souls." There are two parts of the soul's salvation, for both of which "the Word of the truth of the gospel" is alike adapted and sufficient. It reveals, in the first place, the ground of the pardon of sin, and of justification before God; and by faith in this ground we are pardoned and justified. That ground consists in the atonement and righteousness of the Divine Saviour — His mediatorial "obedience unto death." The Word of the truth of the gospel, when believed, thus" saves the soul" from guilt and condemnation, and brings it into a state of life and acceptance with God. Then, secondly, it becomes the instrument of renewal and progressive sanctification — an equally important element of the soul's salvation. It saves the soul by delivering it from the power and the love of sin. We are "saved by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost." And this is by means of the Word. It is then, when brought to the possession of the "inheritance among them that are sanctified," that the soul is fully and for ever "saved." This latter part of the gospel salvation James was anxious to impress, in its indispensable necessity, on the minds of those to whom he wrote — the practical influence of the truth which he here exhorts them to receive, and to receive, in all its lessons, with meekly submissive docility — the vanity of all professions of having so received the truth if its practical efficacy was not apparent. This is an invariable characteristic of God's Word. The doctrinal and the practical are inseparable. It follows here accordingly: "But be ye doers of the Word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves." The great general principle, or truth, in this verse is, that all mere hearing of the Word, and all professed faith of it, are self-delusions, where there is not the experience of its inward holy influence manifested in its outward practical effects — that the hearing and the professing are worthless without the doing, as the required and necessary evidence of our being accepted of God in Christ. The "doing of the Word" is a proof of our being believers of the Word; of our having indeed "received it with meekness," and of its being divinely and savingly implanted in our hearts.

(R. Wardlaw, D. D.)

St. James is, by eminence, the apostle of practical Christianity. The keynote of his Epistle is, that the religion of Jesus is less a thing to talk about than a thing to act upon, that Christianity is nothing if it is not a life-controlling, life-moulding power.

I. Observe now THIS "WORD" IS HERE QUALIFIED. It is called "the engrafted Word." It is a metaphor drawn from the vegetable world. The sacred metaphors of Scripture teach by pointing out real correspondences between one department of God's works and another.

1. This metaphor implies that it is no part of the intellectual outfit of the human mind. The Divine Word came to the human mind from without, as a graft to be inserted.

2. It shows its assimilative power. There must be, in the vegetable world, a family likeness to start with, an organic affinity between the stock and the graft. There is a great deal in common between the Word of Jesus and the existing aspirations and beliefs of the human soul. Beneath every heathen superstition fragments of truth which have close fellowship with the one true faith lie buried.

3. In this metaphor we see its power of laying the nature into which it is inserted under contribution. The engrafted Word does not say to human nature that nothing can be done with it, and that it is fit only for destruction. It makes the most of it; it perfects and consecrates human nature by the gifts of grace.

II. THE MASTER BENEFIT THAT IT CONFERS. "Able to save your souls." The apostle does not say "it will save them," that it is a talisman which will operate irrespectively of your wills: Lo, you can check, you can refuse it. But it is able to save.

III. WE ARE TO RECEIVE THE WORD OF CHRIST IN A PARTICULAR MORAL TEMPER AND ATTITUDE "with meekness." It is not meant to add fuel to your controversies, it is meant to govern your lives.

IV. THE DUTY INCUMBENT UPON EVERY CHRISTIAN PARENT OF TEACHING HIS CHILD THE FAITH OF CHRIST. Beyond a certain age the stock takes a graft only with difficulty. When all else has been parted with in later life, the early lessons of piety will rise before the soul as from the very grave and thrill it with a new and awful power.

(Canon Liddon.)

1. "Lay apart all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness." The evil to be got rid of is represented as a foul garment or sore encumbrance. It is to be entirely apart. We are to deal thus with all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness. None of it is to be spared. The least of it is vastly too much, and may not be tolerated. The whole of this Amalek is doomed, and woe to him who acts Saul's part, and makes any exception when carrying on the work of destruction.

2. "And receive with meekness the engrafted Word, which is able to save your souls." This is the end to which the other is only the means. We are to "receive the Word," that is, admit it into our souls, which we do by believing. Faith accepts it, appropriates it, makes it our own, lodges it within us as a real and abiding possession. This grace has not only a perceptive, but also a receptive power. This is to be done "with meekness," gentleness, mildness — with a disposition the opposite of an angry, malicious spirit. No other can be suited to receiving the Word, which, in its very nature, is humbling to our pride, and, being all impregnated with love, cannot dwell where enmity continues to retain its seat. The one must make way for the other. And mark how he describes the Word which is to be thus received. Often is it spoken of under the emblem of seed sown, here it is the kindred one of a shoot planted or "engrafted." The Word had already been lodged within the per, sons here directly addressed. They had been begotten by it, and hence, in their case, it was engrafted. It had been inserted into the old and wild stock of nature by the Spirit, and thus had changed the whole character of the tree and its productions. What they were now to do was to receive it more fully. We need ever to be appropriating afresh Divine truth, using it as the aliment of the spiritual life, drawing from it the motives to, and the materials for, holy living. "Which is able to save your souls." "Your souls," that is your whole persons, which are here designated by their principal part, that in which corruption chiefly dwells, and on which destruction chiefly falls. This is the Word's highest excellence, its crowning distinction. It can do what is here ascribed to it, not efficiently, but only instrumentally. It reveals and offers salvation, spreads out the blessings of it, and commends them to our acceptance.

(John Adam.)

It is a good thing to be under the sound of the Word of God. Even if the very lowest motive should induce persons to come to hear the gospel, it is nevertheless a good thing that they should come. He that comes near to its fire, even with the intent to quench it, may find himself overcome by its heat. Master Hugh Latimer, in his quaint manner, when exhorting people to go to church, tells of a woman who could not sleep for many nights, notwithstanding that drugs had been given to her; but she said that if they would take her to her parish church she could sleep there, for she had often enjoyed a quiet slumber under the sermon; and he goes the length of saying that if people even come to the sermon to sleep, it is better than not to come at all; for, he adds, in his fine old Saxon, "they may be caught napping." Yet it will strike you at once that though it be well to come to the hearing of the Word in any case, yet it is better to come in a better way. We should endeavour to gather the most we can from the means of grace, and not pluck at them at random. Let us not lose a grain of the blessing through our own fault. The Word of the Lord is precious in these days; let us not trifle with it.

I. Let us consider the fit and proper preparation for listening to the gospel, or what is to be done BEFORE HEARING. There should be no stumbling into the place of worship half-asleep, no roaming thither as if it were no more than going to a play-house. We cannot expect to profit much if we bring with us a swarm of idle thoughts and a heart crammed with vanity. If we are full of folly, we may shut out the truth of God from our minds. We should make ready to receive what God is so ready to bestow. When I think of our engagements throughout the week, who of us can feel fit to come into the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High? I mean not into these tabernacles made with hands, but into the inner spiritual temple of communion with God. How shall we come unto God until we are washed? After travelling so miry a road as that which runs through this foul world, can we come unto God without shaking the dust from off our feet? There is a common consent among mankind that there should be some preparedness for worship. In making this preparation our text tells us that there are some things to be laid aside. "All filthiness." Now sin of every kind is filthiness. By faith in the precious blood of Jesus it must be washed out, for we cannot come before God with acceptance while iniquity is indulged. Filth, you know, is a debasing thing, meet only for beggars and thieves; and such is sin. Filth is offensive to all cleanly persons. However poor a man is he might be clean; and when he is not, he becomes a common nuisance to those who speak with him, or sit near him. If bodily filthiness is horrible to us, what must the filthiness of sin be to the pure and holy God? Moreover, sin is not only offensive, but it is dangerous. He who harbours filth is making a hot-bed for the germs of disease, and thus he is the enemy of his family and of his neighbourhood. The filthy man is a public poisoner, a suicide, and a murderer. Sin is the greatest conceivable danger to a man's own soul: it makes a man to be dead while he lives, yea, corrupt before he is dead. There are three sins at least that are intended here, and one is covetousness. Hence the desire of unholy gain is called filthy lucre, because it leads men to do dirty deeds which else they would not think of. If the lust of wealth enters into the heart, it rots it to the core. Then, with peculiar correctness, lustfulness may be spoken of as filthiness. How should the thrice holy Spirit come and dwell in that heart which is a den of unclean desires? But in the connection of my text the filthiness meant is especially anger. How can you accept the Word of peace while you are at enmity with your brother? How can you hope to find forgiveness under the hearing of the Word when you forgive not those that have trespassed against you? The wrath of man is so filthy a thing, that it cannot work the righteousness of God; nor is it likely that the righteousness of God will be wrought in the heart that is hot like an oven with passion and malice. But it is added, "and superfluity of naughtiness." The phrase here used differs not in meaning from the first epithet of the text: it gives another view of the same thing. You have seen a rose-tree which, perhaps was bearing very few roses, and you half wondered why. It was a good rose; and planted in good soil, but its flowers were scanty. You looked around it, and by and by you perceived that suckers were growing up from its roof. Now, these suckers come from the old, original briar, on which the rose had been grafted, and this rose had a superfluity of strength which it used in these suckers. These superfluities, or overflows, took away from the rose the life which it required, so that it could not produce the full amount of flowers which you expected from it. These superfluities of naughtiness that were coming up here and there were to the injury of the tree. Children of God, you cannot serve the Lord if you are giving your strength to any form of wrong; your naughtinesses are springing from the briar stock of your old nature, and the best thing to do is to cut off those suckers and stop them as much as possible, so that all the strength may return into the rose, and the lovely flowers of grace may abound. Oh, that God's people, when they come up here on the Sabbath-day, may first have undergone that Divine priming which shall take away the superfluity of naughtiness, for there cannot be grafting without a measure of pruning. The gardener takes off from a certain part of the tree a shoot of the old stock, and then he inserts the graft. There must be a removal of superfluities in order that we may receive with meekness "the engrafted Word," which is able to save our souls. Why is this? Why is a man as he comes to hear the gospel to see to this? I take it because all these evil things preoccupy the mind. If we come here with this filthiness about us, how can we expect that the pure and incorruptible Word shall be sweet to us? Moreover, sin prejudices against the gospel. A man says, "I do not enjoy the sermon." How can you? What have you been enjoying during the week? What flavour did last night leave in your mouth?

II. Secondly, I will talk a little about DURING HEARING. How shall we act while listening to the Word?" Receive with meekness the engrafted Word, which is able to save your souls." The first thing, then, is receive. That word "receive" is a very instructive gospel word; it is the door through which God's grace enters to us. We are not saved by working, but by receiving; not by what we give to God, but by what God gives to us, and we receive from Him. The preaching of the Word is as a shower from heaven; but what happens to the soil if the raindrops fall, but none are absorbed into the soil? Of what avail is the shower if none is drunk in by the thirsty furrows? A medicine may have great healing power, but if it is not received, then it does not purge the inward parts of the body. There must be a receiving of any good thing before the goodness of it can be ours. Then it is added, "receive with meekness." We stand at the bar to be tried by God's Word, and searched; but woe unto us if, rejecting every pretence of meekness, we ascend the tribunal, and summon God Himself before us. The spirit of critics ill becomes sinners when they seek mercy of the Lord. His message must be received with teachableness of mind. When you know it is God's Word, it may upbraid you, but you must receive it with meekness. It may startle you with its denunciations: but receive it with meekness. It may be, there is something about the truth which at the first blush does not commend itself to your understanding; it is perhaps too high, too terrible, too deep; receive it with meekness. What is this which is to be received? "Receive with meekness the engrafted Word." We are not bidden to receive with meekness men's words, for they are many, and there is little in them: but receive with meekness God's Word, for it is one, and there is power in each Word which proceedeth out of His mouth. It is called "the engrafted Word." Engrafting implies theft the heart is wounded and opened, and then the living Word is laid in and received with meekness into the bleeding, wounded soul of the man. There is the gash, and there is the space opened thereby. Here comes the graft: the gardener must establish a union between the tree and the graft. This new life, this new branch, is inserted into the old stem, and they are to be livingly joined together. At first they are bound together by the gardener, and clay is placed about the points of junction; but soon they begin to grow into one another, and then only is the grafting effectual. This new cutting grows into the old, and it begins to suck up the life of the old, and change it so that it makes new fruit. That bough, though it be in the grafted tree, is altogether of another sort. Now we want the Word of God to be brought to us after a similar fashion: our heart must be cut and opened, and then the Word must be laid into the gash till the two adhere, and the heart begins to hold to the Word, to believe in it, to hope in it, to love it, to grow to it, to grow into it, and to bear fruit accordingly. Once more you are to receive it by faith, for you are to regard the Word as being able. Believe in the power of God's Word, receive it as being fully able to save your souls from beginning to end. Two ways it does this: by putting away your sin as you accept the blood and righteousness of Christ, and by changing your nature as you accept the Lord Jesus to be your Master and your Lord, your life and your all.

III. Lastly, let us think of AFTER SERMON. "Be ye doers of the Word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves." First, the command is positive — "Be ye doers of the Word." Sirs, ye have heard about repentance and the putting away of filthiness: repent, then, and let your filthiness be put away. May God the Holy Ghost lead you to do so — not to hear about it, but do it. Ye have heard us preach continually concerning faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you know all about believing; but have you believed? We are to admonish you concerning all those blessed duties which spring out of that living faith which works by love; but it is nothing to hear about these virtues unless you possess them. Doing far surpasses hearing. I believe that with a very little knowledge and great doing of what we know, we may attain to a far higher degree of grace than with great knowledge and little doing of what we know. Observe that the command is put negatively: the text says," not hearers only." Those who are hearers only are wasters of the Word. What poor creatures hearers are, for they have long ears and no hands! Ye have heard of him who one day was discoursing eloquently of philosophy to a crowd, who greatly applauded him. He thought he had made many disciples, but suddenly the market-bell rang, and not a single person remained. Gain was to be made, and in their opinion no philosophy could be compared to personal profit. They were hearers till the market-bell rang, and then, as they had been hearers only, they quitted the hearing also. I fear it is so With our preachings: if the devil rings the bell for sin, for pleasure, for worldly amusement, or evil gain, our admirers quit us right speedily. The voice of the world drowns the voice of the Word. Those who are only hearers, are hearers but for a time. Remember, if any man will be lost, he will most surely be lost who heard the gospel and refused it. Over the cell of such a man write, "He knew his duty, but he did it not"; and that cell will be found to be built in the very centre of Gehenna; it is the innermost prison of hell. Wilful rejection of Christ ensures woful rejection from Christ. The text closes with this solemn word: "Deceiving your own selves." Whereupon says Bishop Brownrig, "To deceive is bad, to deceive yourselves is worse, to deceive yourselves about your souls is worst of all."

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

I. THE GIFT TO BE BESTOWED.

1. The nature of the gift. The application of truths to the soul in practical activity. The will of God as imparted by revelation. The guidance of God.

2. The benefit of the gift. "Able to save the soul." Preservation from sorrow, ruin, death.

II. THE METHOD BY WHICH IT IS TO BE IMPARTED.

1. NO meritorious deserving.

2. No heavy price.

III. THE WAY WHICH IT IS TO BE RECEIVED.

1. With thoroughness.

2. With meekness.

3. With docility.

IV. THE EFFECT IT WILL PRODUCE.

1. Transform the entire nature.

2. Enlighten the life.

3. Bestow salvation.

(Homilist.)

Various images are given to us to set forth the manifold value of the Word of truth. It is compared to "gold and silver" (Psalm 119:72). By St. James in this passage it is called "the engrafted Word," or "the implanted Word" (R.V.). It is as the graft put into the tree, which, when it takes and grows, changes its whole character and produce. So, when God's truth enters the soul, it becomes as the germ and origin of a new and holy life. Or, the expression used by St. James may lead us to another view. It is like seed planted in the earth, as in the parable of the sower (Luke 8:11). And, as seed, the Word has a mighty power and operation. We are told that in Mexico you come upon vast masses of masonry, once forming part of their heathen temples, but now utterly overthrown and broken up. But how has this been accomplished? It is by seeds carried by birds of the air, and lodged in the crevices, and these, by and by, have grown and grown until they have split into fragments walls and buildings which once seemed likely to abide for centuries. Thus, too, is there a power in the Word of God to cast down the strongholds of sin, superstition, error, and idolatry, and, whether in countries or in human hearts, utterly to destroy that which dishonours the Lord. We are reminded by St. James in this passage that this Word is "able to save your souls."

1. It is God's instrument for convincing men of the evil of their doings. It shows to them the peril of living in unpardoned sin. It leads them to seek the way of life, and, like the multitude on the day of Pentecost, to ask, "What must we do?"

2. The Word is "able to save the soul," because it ever points to Him who is able to save, even to the uttermost.

3. The Word is able to save because it points out the path of true "holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord." It gives us the holy law of God in all its breadth and fulness. It calls us to the loftiest standard of self-denial and consecration to God's service. But to learn these lessons and obtain these benefits, the Word of God must be received into the heart. It may fall upon the ear, or be read by the eye, and yet fail to impart any true blessing. Hence we need to look for the aid of God's Holy Spirit. Pray much that you may rightly understand what is revealed, and, above all, that you may love the truth and follow it. If you would receive the Word aright, there must be hearty renunciation of all past evil. Cast aside old habits of sloth, self-indulgence, worldliness, evil speaking, and all else that belongs to sin and the flesh. I know full well you cannot do this in your own strength. St. James adds another particular as to the reception of the "Word. It must be received "with meekness" and humility. All pride, prejudice, and self-wisdom must be cast to the winds. You must come to the Word to learn what God would teach you, and you must come in the spirit of a little child. Perhaps we can find no better example of the spirit in which we should hear or read than that of Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus and hearing His Word (Luke 10:39). Yeas there ever a better student in Divine knowledge?

(G. Everard, M. A.)

I. THE BIBLE.

1. It is the Word. Pure. Loving. Faithful. Conquering.

2. It is the engrafted Word. An incorruptible seed.

3. It is the Word to save from spiritual ignorance, prejudice, thraldom, selfishness, sensuality, guilt, &c.

II. THE HUMAN SOUL.

1. Its amazing capability.

2. Its moral obligations. Receive the Word in a humble, reverent, docile spirit.

(Homilist.)

1. Before we come to the Word, there must be preparation. Many come to hear, but they do not consider the weight and importance of the duty. Christ saith (Luke 8:18).(1) By way of caution.(a) Do not exclude God out of your preparations. Usually men mistake in this matter, and hope by their own care to work themselves into a fitness of spirit.(b) Though you cannot get your hearts into such a frame as you do desire, trust God, and that help which is absent to sense and feeling may be present to faith.(2) By way of direction. I cannot go out into all the severals of preparations, how the heart must be purged, faith exercised, repentance renewed, wants and weaknesses reviewed, God's glory considered, the nature, grounds, and ends of the ordinances weighed in our thoughts. Only, in the general, so much preparation there must be as will make the heart reverent. God will be served with a joy mixed with trembling (Genesis 28:17). And again, such preparation as will settle the bent of the spirit heavenward. It is said somewhere, "They set themselves to seek the Lord" (Psalm 57:7).

2. Christian preparation consists most in laying aside and dispossessing evil frames. Weeds must be rooted out before the ground is fit to receive the seed (Jeremiah 4:3). There is an unsuitableness between a filthy spirit and the pure holy Word.

3. Put it off, as a rotten and filthy garment. Sin must be left with an utter detestation (Isaiah 30:22).

4. We must not lay aside sin in part only, but all sin (1 Peter 2:1; Psalm 119:104). The least sins may undo you.

5. Sin is filthiness; it sullies the glory and beauty of the soul, defaces the image of God (2 Corinthians 7:1; Job 14:4; Job 15:14).

6. From that "superfluity of wickedness." That there is abundance of wickedness to be purged out of the heart of man. "All the imaginations of the heart are evil, only evil, and that continually"; it runneth out into every thought, into every desire, into every purpose. As there is saltness in every drop of the sea, and bitterness in every branch of wormwood, so sin in everything that is framed within the soul. Whatever an unclean person touched, though it were holy flesh, it was unclean; so all our actions are poisoned with it.

7. Our duty in hearing the Word is to receive it. In receiving there is an act of the understanding, in apprehending the truth and musing upon it (Luke 9:44). And there is an act of faith, the crediting and believing faculty is stirred up to entertain it (Hebrews 4:2). And there is an act of the will and affections to embrace and lodge it in the soul, which is called "a receiving the truth in love," when we make room for it, that carnal affections and prejudices may not vomit and throw it up again.

8. The Word must be received with all meekness. First, this excludes —(1) A wrathful fierceness, by which men rise in a rage against the Word (Jeremiah 6:10).(2) A proud stubbornness, when men are resolved to hold their own (Jeremiah 2:25).(3) A contentions wrangling, which is found in men of an unsober wit, that scorn to captivate the pride of reason, and therefore stick to every shift (Psalm 25:8, 9).Secondly, it includes —(1) Humility and brokenness of spirit. There must be insection before insition, meek ness before ingrafting.(2) Teachableness and tractableness of spirit (James 3:17). The servants of God come with a mind to obey; they do but wait for the discovery of their duty (Acts 10:33). Disputing against the Word, it is a judging yourselves; it is as if, in effect, you should say, "I care not for God, nor all the tenders of grace and glory that He maketh to me."

9. The Word must not only be apprehended by us, but planted in us. It is God's promise (Jeremiah 31:33).

10. The Word in God's hand is an instrument to save our souls.

11. That the main care of Christian should be to save his soul. This is propounded as an argument why we should hear the Word; it will save your souls. Usually our greatest care is to gratify the body.

(T. Manton.)

I. ITS CHARACTER

1. The distinctness of its existence. It is a "graft" taken from the tree of eternal thought. Christ brought it to the earth, and grafted it upon human souls.

2. The affinity of its nature.

3. The appropriateness of its force. The gospel, when it enters the human soul, lays under contribution all its reasoning, creative, and susceptible powers.

II. ITS CAPABILITY. AS the buds of a fruitful tree engrafted on some barren plant make the worthless valuable, the unfertile fruitful, so the gospel saves all the soul's faculties, turns them all to a right use.

III. ITS RECEPTION.

1. Not with —

(1)Thoughtlessness.

(2)Servility.

2. With the meekness of —

(1)Docility.

(2)Devotion.

(Homilist.)

The man who supposes that all that is necessary is that he run over a passage of Scripture before leaving his bed-chamber, and another at family prayer, and give respectful attention to his clergyman in church, is greatly mistaken. He must work out in life what he reads and hears, as the sap of a tree works out fruit on the stem which is grafted thereon. It is the failure to do this which has so greatly retarded our religious life. Men have heard the Word with their outward ears, and have gone out of the church thinking that the sermon was done, whereas it had not begun in their practice, not even in their hearts. No; the moment I have learned anything from the Word, I must make a strenuous effort to reproduce it in my life. Then the next thing learned, then the rest; and so on, until my life be an incarnation of the Bible. If each hearer did this, how powerful our holy faith would be among men! Compared with this, what is success in controversy, although I could silence every theological opponent? What Biblical learning, although I could repeat every verse of the Bible in every tongue ever spoken among men? Neither of these would save me; but the truth, animated into fruitage by my spiritual vitality, would make me a tree worth a place in God's orchard.

(C. Deems, D. D.)

That the Word of God may have full power over us, there must be a preparation of heart for its reception. We must cease to do evil before we can learn to do well. We must lay aside everything which is offensive to the purity of God. By the term "filthiness" James seems to wish to arouse a sense of the loathsomeness of all sin. He does not simply mean that we shall lay aside those particular sins which are disgusting to us; but rather to impress us theft all sin has in it that which makes it disgusting to God. He may here be supposed to be thinking of sins of the flesh, the visible violations of the moral law. Then we are to lay aside all "superfluity of naughtiness." The word occurs in Romans 5:15 and 2 Corinthians 8:2; it indicates that which goes out to others. Here it means the outflowing of malice. By the one phrase James may be supposed to refer to sins of the flesh, and by the other sins of the spirit. While indulging ourselves either in sins which others cannot see, or sins which show themselves in displays of evil temper, we cannot profit by the Word of God. Meekness, as well as purity, is essential to the proper hearing of the Word of God. One cannot in private approach the study of the Word in the pride of opinion or of scholarship, nor can one resort to the Word for the purpose of sustaining one's own dogma, and while in that spirit find the Word profitable. You know that this is sometimes done. A man may take down the Bible to find proof passages, just as a lawyer may search the Reports of the Supreme Court to find only that which will sustain his theory of the case which he is to try. In such search he throws aside whatever does not make for his side. He is not learning laws, he is hunting helps. If the Bible be so studied, it will be unprofitable. We must approach it with the docility of little children (Matthew 18:23). We must simply wish to learn what is the mind of the Spirit in the Word of God.

(C. Deems, D. D.)

It is only in the apprehension of what we really are that the Word begins to be engrafted. We may have correct theories about the exceeding sinfulness of sin and the mischief that it works; but it is when we see ourselves in the mirror, and discern what sin has done for us, that God's view of sin begins to be ours, and we shrink from it and long to be saved from it, as if it really were what "the Word" represents it as being — a terrible and fatal disease, a very plague-spot in the soul. You shall see two persons going out of the same church, after having listened to the same sermon. They are both, we will say, sinners, and unforgiven sinners; but the one is full of admiration of all that he has heard. "What a magnificent sermon! I never heard anything more scathing than his denunciation of sin. How he did show it up! I really think he is the most impressive preacher I ever listened to." And the other slips away in silence like one ashamed; his whole life rises up in witness against him. The preacher's voice has seemed to thunder in his ear, "Thou art the man!" His self-complacency is rent to shreds; he feels, like the publican, as though ha could not so much as lift up his eyes unto heaven. He retreats into the solitude of his own chamber, and casts himself upon his knees with a cry of anguish, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" What is it that makes the two to differ? In the one case the Word has been heard, and only heard; and in the other case it has been implanted. In both cases the mirror has been presented; but in the one ease the man has been content with a glance, and then straightway has forgotten what manner of man he was; while the other has looked boldly and resolutely into the glass, until his inmost conscience has been roused and his very heart appalled by what he has seen there. The image still haunts him; he cannot escape from it. His self-esteem is levelled in the dust; he has seen his natural face in the glass, and he has really discovered what manner of man he is.

(W. M. H. Aitken, M. A.)

I. THE EXHORTATION. The doers of the Word are those who are ruled by it, who practically comply with its requirements, who not only read, understand, and believe it, but submit to its authority, regulate their tempers and lives by its precepts. The term, too, is expressive of continuance, permanence. We must live and move in this element, we must find our occupation here the chief delight of our existence. It is only such doing that constitutes a doer of the Word. "And not hearers only." This is what the apostle is anxious to guard against. Mark what it really is which he condemns. It is not being hearers — very far from that. It is the slopping short here, resting in it which he condemns. He finds no fault with those who are hearers, it is with those who are hearers simply and "not doers." He adds, "Deceiving your own selves." Whatever the foundation on which they build, whatever the process by which they reach the conclusion in their own favour — all who think well of themselves, who believe that they are God's people, and on the way to heaven, while they are hearers only and not doers — all such must, and do delude themselves. They are helped to this result. The father of lies tries to persuade them that they are all right as to their spiritual character. He labours to hide from us the truth, and to draw us into the meshes of soul-ruining error.

II. THE ILLUSTRATION.

1. A picture of the mere hearer. "He is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass" — literally, "the face of his birth," the countenance with which he was born — marking out the external, material sphere within which the figure lies, and suggesting all the more vividly the spiritual counterpart, the moral visage which belongs to us as the posterity of Adam, the sin-marred lineaments of the soul. He sees it with all its peculiarities, more or less pleasing, reflected in the glass before which he stands, there confronting him so that he cannot but note its features. The hearer of the gospel does something remarkably similar. In his case the glass, that into which he looks, is the Divine Word. It unfolds the corruption which has put its foul impress on every part of our being, the dark lusts and passions that hold sway within us, the features and workings of our carnal, enmity-possessed minds. It is the great business of the preacher to raise aloft the glass of Divine truth, to set forth faithfully alike the law and the gospel. The hearer does not thrust it away from him, and he turns not aside from it as do many. He does not withdraw to a distance, or push the mirror toward his neighbour. He looks into it more or less closely. The likeness varies greatly as to distinctness of outline and depth of impression. Self is in some measure presented to view and is recognised. The apostle proceeds with the comparison. The man having beheld himself, "goeth his way," is off to his business or his pleasure, to meet his friends, or pursue his journey. He is soon engaged with other matters. In a few moments the appearance he presented is forgotten. The beholding in this ease corresponds to the hearing and its effects in the other. As the looker turns away from the glass, so does the mere hearer from the Word. The latter leaves the sanctuary, and the bodily departure is connected with a mental one far greater. The attention is relaxed, or rather drawn off, and directed toward an entirely different class of subjects. The mind goes back to its pursuit of lying vanities; and thus comes the deep and sad forgetfulness. Convictions fade away, feelings cool down, and the old security returns.

2. A picture of the real doer (ver. 25). Here the comparison begins to be dropped. The figure and the thing represented, symbol and substance, blend together; no longer kept separate, they pass into each other. Observe what this man looks into. It is "the perfect law of liberty." He calls it "perfect." It is so in itself as the transcript of God's perfect character, and as leading all who apprehend and use it aright forward to man's perfect stature. It is this alike in its nature and its effect. And it is "the perfect law of liberty." It is a law of bondage to those who leek into it in its covenant form, and strive to earn heaven by their own merits. But in regeneration it is written on the heart, and the new creature is in harmony with it, delights in it, so that conformity to it is no longer a forced but a spontaneous thing. Thus he is free, not by being released from law, but by having it wrought into his being, made the moving, regulating power of his new existence. Notice, now, how this man deals with the mirror thus described. "Whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty." We have here a different word from that which expresses the beholding in the former instance. It signifies to stoop down and come close to an object so as to see it clearly and fully. It points to a near, minute, searching inspection. And, in this ease, it is not a temporary exercise. The eyes are not soon averted and directed to other objects. For it is added, "and continueth therein" — continueth still looking into the perfect law, meditating on its requirements, seeking to understand their nature and feel their power. He is arrested, and cannot turn his steps or his eyes towards other objects. This is characteristic of every one truly subdued by the inspired Word. He continues and the effect appears. Such a man is "not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work." He remembers the truth apprehended, and strives to reduce it to practice. It sets all his powers of mind and body in motion. He is a "doer of the work," or literally of work, pointing not to this or that act of obedience, but to a constant, thorough, loving, free course of service. In all things he aims at doing the will of God, and he so far succeeds. "This man" — emphatically, not the other, not any other — this man, he, he alone — "shall be blessed in his deed" or his doing. He shall be blessed, not only after or through his doing, not merely on account of it or by means of it, but in his doing. Obedience is its own reward. It yields an exquisite satisfaction, and, while it leads on in a heavenward progress, draws down large foretastes of the fulness of joy, the rivers of pleasure, which are at God's right hand for evermore.

(John Adam.)

James has no speculations. He is not satisfied with the buds of hearing, he wants the fruits of obedience. We need more of his practical spirit in this age. Preachers must preach as for eternity, and look for fruit; and hearers must carry out what they hear, or otherwise the sacred ordinance of preaching will cease to be the channel of blessing.

I. THE UNBLEST CLASS.

1. They are hearers, but they are described as hearers who are not doers. They have heard a sermon on repentance, but they have not repented. They have heard the gospel cry, "Believe!" but they have not believed. They know that he who believes purges himself from his old sins, yet they have had no purging, but abide as they were, Now, if I address such. let me say to them — it is clear that you are and must be unblest. Hearing of a feast will not fill you; hearing of a brook will not quench your thirst. The knowledge that there is a shelter from the storm will not save the ship from the tempest. The information that there is a cure for a disease will not make the sick man whole. No: boons must be grasped and made use of if they are to be of any value to us.

2. Next, these hearers are described as deceiving themselves. You would very soon quit my door, and call me inhospitable, if I gave you music instead of meat; and yet you deceive yourselves with the notion that merely hearing about Jesus and His great salvation has made you better men. Or, perhaps, the deceit runs in another line: you foster the idea that the stern truths which your hear do not apply to you.

3. And then, again, according to our text, these people are superficial hearers. They are said to be like to a man who sees his natural face in a glass. When a glass is first exhibited to some fresh discovered tribe, the chieftain as he sees himself is perfectly astonished. He looks, and looks again, and cannot make it out. So is it in the preaching of the Word; the man says, "Why, those are my words; that is my way of feeling." To see yourself as God would have you see yourself in the glass of Scripture is something, but you must afterwards go to Christ for washing or your looking is very superficial work.

4. The text accuses these persons of being hasty hearers — "he beholdeth himself and goeth his way." They never give the Word time to operate, they are back to business, back to idle chit-chat, the moment the service ends.

5. One other thing is said about them, namely, that they are very forgetful hearers — they forget what manner of men they are. They have heard the discourse, and there is an end of it. That travelling dealer did well who, while listening to Mr. William Dawson, when he was speaking about dishonesty, stood up in the midst of the congregation and broke a certain yard measure with which he had been in the habit of cheating his customers. That woman did well who said that she forgot what the preacher talked about, but she remembered to burn her bushel when she got home, for that too had been short in measure. You may forget the words in which the truth was couched, if you will, but let it purify your life. It reminds me of the gracious woman who used to earn her living by washing wool. When her minister called upon her and asked her about his sermon, and she confessed she had forgotten the text, he said, "What good could it have done you?" She took him into her back place where she was carrying on her trade. She put the wool into a sieve, and then pumped on it. "There, sir," she said, "your sermon is like that water. It runs through my mind, sir, just as the water runs through the sieve; but then the water washes the wool, sir, and so the good word washes my soul." Thus I have described certain hearers, and I fear we have many such in all congregations; admiring hearers, but all the while unblest hearers, because they are Hot doers of the work. One thing they lack — they have no faith in Christ. It does surprise me how some of you can be so favourable to everything that has to do with Divine things, and yet have no personal share in the good treasure. What would you say of a cook who prepared dinners for other people and yet died of starvation? Foolish cook, say you. Foolish hearer, say

I. Are you going to be like. Solomon's friends the Tyrians, who helped to build the temple and yet went on worshipping their idols?

II. BLESSED HEARERS — those who get the blessing.

1. Now, notice that this hearer who is blest is, first of all, an earnest, eager, humble hearer. He does not look upon the law of liberty and go his way, but he looketh into it. He hears of the gospel, and he says, "I will look into this. There is a something here worth attention." He stoops and becomes a little child that he may learn. He searches as men do who are looking after diamonds or gold. That is the right kind of hearer — an earnest listener whose senses are all aroused to receive all that can be learned.

2. It is implied, too, that he is a thoughtful, studious, searching hearer — he looks into the perfect law. He is sacredly curious. He inquires; he pries. He asks all those who should know. He likes to get with old Christians to hear their experience. He loves to compare spiritual things with spiritual, to dissect a text and see how it stands in relation to another, and to its own parts, for he is in earnest when he hears the Word.

3. Looking so steadily he discovers that the gospel is a law of liberty: and indeed it is so. There is no joy like the joy of pardon, there is no release like release from the slavery of sin, there is no freedom like the liberty of holiness, the liberty to draw near to God.

4. But it is added that he continues therein. If you hear the gospel and it does not bless you, hear it again. If you have read the Word of God and it has not saved you, read it again. It is able to save your soul.

5. Lastly, it is added that this man is not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the Word, and he shall be blessed in his deed. Is he bidden to pray? He prays as best he can. Is he bidden to repent? He asks God to enable him to repent. He turns everything that he hears into practice. I remember reading of a certain person who heard of giving a tenth of our substance to God. "Well," said he, "that is right, and I will do it": and he kept his promise. He heard that Daniel drew near to God three times a day in prayer. He said, "That is right; I will do it"; and he practised a threefold approach to the throne of grace each day. He made it a rule every time he heard of something that was excellent to practise it at once. Thus he formed holy habits and a noble character, and became a blessed hearer of the Word.

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

I. The Word As MERELY HEARD.

1. It is only superficially known.

2. It leaves men in self-ignorance.

II. THE WORD RIGHTLY PRACTISED.

1. It is thoroughly investigated.

2. It confers the highest blessing.

(1)Imparts complete liberty.

(2)Ensures constant happiness.

(U. R. Thomas.)

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF HEARING THE WORD.

1. The Word tells us whence we are.

2. The Word tells us what we are.

3. The Word tells us how to get rid of sin.

4. The Word helps us to form character for heaven.

II. THE GREATER IMPORTANCE OF DOING THE WORD.

1. Hearing is but the preliminary of doing.

2. Hearing can never shake off the load of sin; while doing lays the burden upon Christ.

3. In the all-important work of cultivating character, mere hearing hardens and distorts; while doing the will of God is the way to become like Him.

4. Doing the will of God is the only adequate test of love, which is the essence both of religion and salvation.

(J. T. Whitley.)

1. Knowledge without obedience ends in nothing. This is the folly which our Lord rebukes in the parable of the man that built his house upon the sand.

2. It inflicts a deep and lasting injury upon the powers of our spiritual nature. In childhood, boyhood, manhood, the same sounds of warning, and promise, and persuasion, the same hopes and fears, have fallen on a heedless ear, and a still more heedless heart: they have lost their power over the man; he has acquired a settled habit of hearing without doing. The whole force of habit — that strange mockery of nature — has reinforced his original reluctance to obey.

3. It is an arch-deceiver of mankind. It deceives the man into the belief that he really is what he so clearly knows he ought to be. Again, there are men who can never speak of religious truth without emotion; and yet, though their knowledge has so much of fervour as to make them weep, it has not power enough to make them deny a lust.

4. This knowing and disobeying, it is that makes so awful the responsibilities of Christians. Knowledge is a great and awful gift: it makes a man partaker of the mind of God; it communes with him of the eternal will, and reveals to him the royal law of God's kingdom. To hold this knowledge in unrighteousness, to imprison it in the stifling hold of an impure, a proud, or a rebellious heart, is a most appalling insult against the majesty of the God of truth.

(Archdeacon Manning.)

The necessity of good preaching is well understood among men. The importance of good hearing is not so well understood. To render the message effective, it is not enough that the former be furnished. Be it as faultless as was the preaching of the Son of God, a man may sit under it and go from it totally unbenefited. It leaves on his heart the impression, not of the seal upon the plastic wax, but such an impression as the face makes upon the mirror which for a moment reflects its features — transient as the glancing sunbeam. It therefore becomes an imperative duty to keep clearly before the minds of our hearers their liability to the danger of rendering the gospel ministry wholly ineffectual for good to themselves.

I. THE VACANT HEARER. God's Word is weighty truth. Its topics are God's nature, acts, the human soul, its condition, responsibilities, destiny. The subjects of its principal concern lie not on the surface of things, to be grasped without an effort. But whether simple or recondite, its teachings will teach him nothing who will not meet that demand of intellectual attention which instruction on any theme necessarily imposes on the learner. There are many such vacant listeners in God's house. With some it is a constitutional mental sluggishness, a mind untaught to reflect. But with many more it is an aversion of heart to religious thought, which arms the will against it. Add also the many who bring the world with them into Jehovah's temple, and there worship Mammon instead of God.

II. THE CURIOUS HEARER. This spirit brings the attention to bear upon a subject, but merely to dissect, to criticise. It is an active spirit far removed from the unconcernedness of the vacant hearer, and the sanctuary affords a favourite scene for its exercise. It may employ itself upon the subject of discourse, and enjoy the pleasure of remarking the beauties, the well-timed proprieties of its presentation; or, more commonly, it may busy itself with taking exceptions at the taste, or the judgment, which has guided the selection or treatment of the theme. Or the attention fastens itself upon the manner of the preacher, forgetful from whose court the speaker holds his commission, and what words of life and death hang on his lips.

III. THE CAPTIOUS HEARER. Here the attention is excited, only to be turned against the teachings of religion. There are those who occasionally attend upon God's worship, as they sometimes read His Word, for no other end but to cavil, to deny, to oppose. Their business is just what was that of some in former days, in whose hearts Satan reigned; who followed Christ's ministrations for the — shall I say, magnanimous or pitiful — purpose to catch Him in His words! But sometimes, where the mind likes not to confess itself sceptical upon the subject of Christian doctrine, it covers its hostility to this by a very ingenious, not ingenuous transfer of its dislikes to the announcer of this doctrine.

IV. THE FASHIONABLE HEARER. The Sabbath is welcomed, as it helps them to show off an equipage more elegant than some rival's; or to display to advantage their personal attractions. Their own proud selves are the centres round which every thought revolves.

V. THE SPECULATING HEARER. I use this phrase in its mercantile sense, to indicate those whose selfishness leads them to make a pecuniary gain of godliness. These visit the sanctuary to further their business facilities. It is respectable to attend Divine worship. The influential, the wealthy, the intelligent, are found there, at least once on the Sabbath. And he submits to the irksomeness of a weekly visit to this uncomgenial spot as a cheap price for the custom, the patronage of the community. On the whole, it is to him a fair business transaction. A similar conduct is theirs who sustain the gospel because of the pecuniary value of churches and ministers to any community. These have their secular advantages. Truth and piety should be prized for more spiritual reasons than these. They refuse their choicest blessings to such sordid calculators.

VI. THE SELF-FORGETFUL HEARER. Many never listen to a sermon which "reproves, rebukes, exhorts," for their own benefit. They may indeed listen; but it is with a keen sense of their neighbour's defects, not their own.

VII. THE PRAYERLESS HEARER. Without prayer, earnest, habitual, personal, God's Spirit will not visit your bosom with life-imparting grace. A prayerless hearer of truth must, therefore, be an unblessed hearer. He turns the ministry of mercy into a ministry of condemnation.

VIII. THE UNRESOLVED HEARER. The communications of God to man all relate to action. They direct to duty. They aim not to amuse, to surprise, or to instruct, but to produce a voluntary movement of man's moral powers in the path by them indicated. They bring their unseen influences to bear upon his rational faculties to secure compliance with their demands, and in effecting, by God's grace, this object they secure the salvation of his soul. But this they never do effect except through his deliberate purpose of willing obedience.

(J. T. Tucker.)

I. THE CHARACTER OF THOSE WHO MAY BE SAID TO BE HEARERS ONLY.

1. The inattentive hearer (Hebrews 2:1; Deuteronomy 32:46). He who never intends being a doer of what he hears will probably little regard what he hears.

2. The inconsiderate hearer, that never ponders what he hears, nor compares one thing with another.

3. The injudicious shearer, that never makes any judgment upon what he hears, whether it be true or false; all things come alike to him.

4. The unapprehensive hearer, who hears all his days, but is never the wiser (2 Timothy 3:7). No light comes into him.

5. The stupid, unaffected hearer that is as a rock and a stone under the Word. Nothing enters or gets within.

6. The prejudiced, disaffected hearers, who hear with dislike, especially those things which relate to practice; they cannot endure such things as relate to the heart.

7. The fantastical, voluptuous hearers, that hear only to please their fancy; flashes of wit are what they come to hear.

8. The notional hearers, who only aim merely to please their fancy; they come to learn some kind of novelty.

9. Those talkative persons, who only come to hear that they may furnish themselves with notions for the sake of discourse.

10. The censorious and critical hearers; who come not as doers of the law, but as judges.

11. The malicious hearers that .come on purpose to seek an advantage against those they come to hear.

12. The raging, exasperated hearers; such were Stephen's at his last sermon.

II. WHAT IT IS TO BE A DOER OF THE WORD.

1. It doth suppose a fixed design that this shall be my course (Psalm 119:106, 112).

2. It carries with it a serious applying of our minds to understand what is the mind and will of God which is held forth to us in His Word.

3. It implies the use of our judgment in hearing the Word, in order to distinguish what is human and what is Divine.

4. It requires reverence to be used in hearing: so to hear as that we may be doers requires a revere, dial attendance upon it. Considering it as a revelation come from heaven.

5. To be a doer of the Word supposes that we believe it; or that our hearing of it is mingled with faith. The Word of God worketh effectually in thrum that believe (1 Thessalonians 2:13; Hebrews 4:2; Hebrews 11:1; Romans 1:16).

6. It requires love. It is said of some that they received not the love of the truth (2 Thessalonians 2:10; Psalm 119:97, 105; Jeremiah 15:16).

7. It requires subjection: a compliance of the heart with it. "Receive with meekness" (verse. 21). The gracious soul is always ready to say, "Good is the Word .of the Lord."

8. It requires a previous transformation of the heart by it. The Word can never be done by the hearer, but from a vital principle.

9. It requires also a faithful remembrance of it (vers. 23, 24).

10. There must be an actual application of all such rules in the Word to present cases as they occur (Psalm 119:11).

III. THE SELF-DECEPTION OF THOSE WHO ARE HEARERS OF THE WORD, AND NOT DOERS OF IT.

1. Wherein they are deceived.(1) They are deceived in their work. They commonly think they have done well; find no fault with themselves that they have been hearers only.(2) As to their reward they are also deceived; their labour is lost.

2. The grossness of this deception.(1) They are deceived in a plain case. It is the plainest thing in the world that the gospel is sent for a practical end.(2) It is a self-deception. They are said to deceive themselves: they impose on themselves. It is soul-deception: "Deceiving your own souls."APPLICATION:

1. In the very hearing of the Word there is danger of self-deception.

2. The whole business of the gospel hath a reference to practice.

3. If ye would be doers of the Word, "Be swift to hear: faith cometh by hearing."

4. It is of the greatest consequence to add doing to hearing (Matthew 7:24-27).

(T. Hannam.)

You have heard, let me suppose, an eloquent sermon on alms-giving, or on loving one's neighbour as one's self. You have been so moved that you resolve to commence a new habit of life. Well, you begin to give to the poor, and you soon find that it is very hard so to give as not to encourage indolence, vice, dishonesty, very hard to do a little good without doing a great deal of harm. You are brought to a stand, and compelled to reflect. But if the word you heard really laid hold upon you, if you are persuaded that it is the will of God that you should give to the poor and needy, you do not straightway leave off giving to them. You consider how you may give without injuring them, without encouraging either them or their neighbours in habits of laziness and dependence. Again and again you make mistakes. Again and again you have to reconsider your course, and probably to the end of your days you discover no way of giving that is quite satisfactory to you. But while you are thus doing the word, is it possible for you to forget it? It is constantly in your thoughts. You are for ever studying how you may best act on it. So far from forgetting the word, you are always learning more clearly what it means, and how it may be applied beneficially and with discretion. Or suppose you have heard the other sermon on loving one's neighbour, and set yourself to do that word of God. In the home, we may hope, you have no great trouble in doing it, though even there it is not always easy. But when you go to business, and try, in that, to act on the Divine commandment, do you find no difficulty there? Now that is not easy. In many cases it is not easy even to see how the Christian law applies, much less to obey it. If, for instance, you are rich enough, or generous enough, to give your work-people higher wages than other masters give or can afford to give, you may at once show a great love for one class of your neighbours, and a great want of love for another class. Thus, in many different ways, the very moment you honestly try to love your neighbours all round as you love yourself, you find yourself involved in many perplexities, through which you have carefully to pick your way. You have to consider how the Christian law bears on the complex and manifold relations of social life, how you may do the word wisely and to good effect. But can you forget the commandment while you are thus assiduously seeking both to keep it and how to keep it? It is impossible. The more steadfastly you are the doer of it, the more constantly is it in your mind, the mine clearly do you know what it means and how it may be obeyed.

(S. Cox, D. D.)

Here we reach the main thought of the Epistle — the all-importance of Christian activity and service. The essential thing, without which other things, however good in themselves, become insignificant, or even mischievous, is conduct. Suffering injuries, poverty, and temptations, hearing the Word, teaching the Word, faith, wisdom (James 1:2, 9, 12, 19; James 2:14-26; James 3:18-17), are all of them excellent; but if they are not accompanied by a holy life, a life of prayer and gentle words and good deeds, they are valueless. "Be ye doers of the Word." Both verb and tense are remarkable (γίνεσθε): "Become doers of the Word." True Christian practice is a thing of growth; it is a process, and a process which has already begun, and is continually going on. We may compare, "Become ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves" (Matthew 10:16); "Therefore become ye also ready" (Matthew 24:44); and "Become not faithless, but believing (John 20:27). "Become doers of the Word" is more expressive than "Be doers of the Word," and a good deal more expressive than "Do the Word." A "doer of the Word" (ποιητὴς λόγου) is such by profession and practice; the phrase expresses a habit. But one who merely incidentally performs what is prescribed may be said to" do the Word." By the "Word" is meant what just before has been called the "implanted Word" and the "Word of truth" (vers. 18, 21), and what in this passage is also called "the perfect law, the law of liberty" (ver. 25), i.e., the gospel. The parable of the sower illustrates in detail the meaning of becoming an habitual doer of the implanted Word. "And not hearers only." St. James, in the address which he made to the Council of Jerusalem, says, "Moses from generations of old hath in every city them that preach him, being read in the synagogues every Sabbath" (chap. Acts 15:21). The Jews came with great punctiliousness to these weekly gatherings, and listened with much attention to the public reading and exposition of the law; and too many of them thought that with that the chief part of their duty was performed. This, St. James tells them, is miserably insufficient, whether what they hear be the law or the gospel, the law with or without the illumination of the life of Christ. "Being swift to hear" (ver. 19) and to understand is well, but "apart from works it is barren." It is the habitual practice in striving to do what is heard and understood that is of value. "Not a hearer that forgetteth, but a doer that worketh" is blessed, and "blessed in his doing." To suppose that mere hearing brings a blessing is "deluding your own selves." The word here used for deluding (παραλογιζόμενοι) does not necessarily imply that the fallacious reasoning is known to be fallacious by those who employ it. To express that we should rather have the word which is used in 2 Peter 1:16 to characterise "cunningly devise fables" (σεσοφισμένοι). Here we are to understand that the victims of the delusion do not, although they might, see the worthlessness of the reasons upon which their self-contentment is based. It is precisely in this that the danger of their position lies. Self-deceit is the most subtle and fatal deceit. The Jews have a saying that the man who hears without practising is like a husbandman who ploughs and sows, but never reaps. Such an illustration, being taken from natural phenomena, would be quite in harmony with the manner of St. James; but he enforces his meaning by employing a far more striking illustration. He who is a hearer and not a doer "is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a mirror." The spoken or written Word of God is the mirror. When we hear it preached, or study it for ourselves, we can find the reflection of ourselves in it, our temptations and weaknesses, our failings and sins, the influences of God's Spirit upon us, and the impress of His grace. It is here that we notice one marked difference between the inspiration of the sacred writers and the inspiration of the poet and the dramatist. The latter show us other people to the life; Scripture shows us ourselves. Through hearing or reading God's Word our knowledge of our characters is quickened. But does this quickened knowledge last? does it lead to action, or influence our conduct? Too often we leave the church or our study, and the impression produced by the recognition of the features of our own case is obliterated. "We straightway forget what manner of men we are," and the insight which has been granted to us into our own true selves is just one more wasted experience. But this need not be so, and in some cases a very different result may be noticed. Instead of merely looking attentively for a short time, he may stoop down and pore over it. Instead of forthwith going away, he may continue in the study of it. And instead of straightway forgetting, he may prove a mindful doer that worketh. He who does this recognises God's Word as being "the perfect law, the law of liberty." The two "things are the same. It is when the law is seen to be perfect that it is found to be the law of liberty. So long as the law is not seen in the beauty of its perfection it is not loved, and men either disobey it or obey it by constraint and unwillingly. It is then a law of bondage. But when its perfection is recognised men long to conform to it; and they obey, not because they must, but because they choose. To be made to work for one whom one fears is slavery and misery; to choose to work for one whom one loves is freedom and happiness. The gospel has not abolished the moral law; it has supplied a new and adequate motive for fulfilling it. "Being not a hearer that forgetteth." Literally, "having become not a hearer of forgetfulness," i.e., having by practice come to be a hearer, who is characterised, not by forgetfulness of what he hears, but by attentive performance of it. "A hearer of forgetfulness "exactly balances, both in form and in thought, "a doer of work"; and this is well brought out by the Revisers, who turn both genitives by a relative clause: "a hearer that for-getteth," and "a doer that worketh." "This man shall be blessed in his doing." Mere knowledge without performance is of little worth: it is in the doing that a blessing can be found. The danger against which St. James warns the Jewish Christians of the Dispersion is as pressing now as it was when he wrote. Never was there a time when interest in the Scriptures was more keen or more widely spread, especially among the educated classes; and never was there a time when greater facilities for gratifying this interest abounded. But it is much to be feared that with many of us the interest in the sacred writings which is thus roused and fostered remains to a very large extent a literary interest. We are much more eager to know all about God's Word than from it to learn His will respecting ourselves, that we may do it; to prove that a book is genuine than to practise what it enjoins. We study lives of Christ, but we do not follow the life of Christ. We pay Him the empty homage of an intellectual interest in His words and works, but we do not the things which He says.

(A. Plummer, D. D.)

It has been said of St. James that his mission was rather that of a Christian Baptist than a Christian apostle. A deep depravity had eaten into the heart of the national character, and this, far more than any outward cause, was hastening on their final doom. The task, therefore, which fell to the lot of that apostle, in whom the Jew and the Christian were inseparably blended, and who stands in the unique position midway between the old dispensation and the new, was above all things to prolong the echo of that Divine Voice which in the Sermon on the Mount had first asserted the depth and unity of the moral law. In St. James's view the besetting peril of the spiritual life was the divorce of knowledge and duty: "To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not," he says, "it is sin." And you see how he enforces this lesson in the text by a fresh and striking illustration of his own. He is contemplating, perhaps experiencing some barbarian who, in days when a mirror was a rare and costly luxury among civilised nations, happened for the first time to see his face reflected in one. What would be the effect upon the mind of the man? First, no doubt amusement at a new discovery, and then recognition of identity in a way undreamed of before. And yet the impression, however sharp and startling, would be but temporary; unless renewed it would soon vanish away. Remove a savage into some centre of culture, and you may indeed quicken his intelligence by the sudden shock of contact with the efforts and appliances of civilised life; but let him return to his old surroundings, and presently no trace will be found in his habits, and little enough in his memory, of the spectacle set before him. Stimulated faculties subside again to the old level; full of amazement and admiration to-day, he sinks to-morrow into his wonted apathy and ignorance. Such, according to St. James, is the moral effect of hearing the Word without acting upon it. The clearest revelation of character photographed upon the soul by the Divine Sun of the spiritual world, and therefore intensely vivid and true at the time, will inevitably vanish unless it is fixed by obedience. The Bible, so rich in illustration of all moral strength and weakness, presents us with a striking example of insight into duty absolutely disconnected with performance of duty; it describes to us a man who had the very clearest intuition of God's will, and yet remained totally untouched by what he knew. Balaam had an open eye, but an itching palm; a taste for heavenly things, but a stronger love for earthly things; he could be rapped out of his lower self to behold the image of the Almighty, and listen to the announcement of His will; but that sublime revelation left not a trace upon his own soul. It is that which may be safely predicted not of rare geniuses alone, but of men of ordinary mould. It is the sure Nemesis wherever the light flashed in is not suffered to guide, wherever there is an eye clear enough to see the better with heart gross enough to choose the worse. But let us come back to the searching language of the apostle. Has there not been in the personal experience of many of us something very like what he here describes — I mean a time when God's Word suddenly became to us what it had never been before — a bright gospel mirror, imaging to us our own likeness with a startling distinctness — showed us to ourselves as God sees us, with every intent of our heart, every recess of our character laid bare? It seemed as if this new knowledge would be itself a safeguard against relapsing into the sins we saw so clearly and deplored so sincerely. Remembering the degraded features of "the old man, which is corrupt, according to the deceitful lusts," the lust of pride, of evil temper, of impurity, covetousness, of unbelief, we could not imagine ourselves capable of being lowered again into fellowship with things so hateful; and turning from this dark picture of self to that other mirrored in the Divine Word by its side in all the spotless beauty of holiness, it seemed as if this alone could satisfy the new-born aspiration of the soul. What has become of the impression of that memorable hour? To know and not to do, to have the heavenly vision without being obedient to it, this is enough to account for the loss of that knowledge which was once so clear and seemed likely to be so lasting. Ah! which of us does not know full well, when he is true to himself, that just in proportion as he has forgotten what God's Word once told him about himself, it is to this he must trace his forgetfulness? One act of carelessness, one act of disobedience after another, one weak compliance after another, has enfeebled discernment and confused memory, and to-day he knows not what he was, or what he is, or what God would have him to be. "Deceiving your own selves," says the apostle. Yes; there is no snare more perilous than that which we lay for ourselves when we stop short at the discovery of our own imperfections and sins. It is so easy to be a hearer, so easy to rest in a taste for religion, to take credit to ourselves for the interest we feel in expositions of truth, to have the notions, theories, doctrines, and ritual of religion, and yet to live on from day to day without prompt obedience, apart from which the closest familiarity with sacred things is worse than useless. "Deceiving your own selves." It is quite possible to have forfeited a power which we imagine to be still ours, and simply because we have failed to use it. Spiritual blindness is the penalty of wasted light; it is the penalty which ever waits upon ineffectual seeing. Such a revelation as God has given, when His Word mirrors our natural face to us, is no casual opportunity; it is the gift of His grace, and it involves the deepest responsibility on the part of each who receives it. As soon as we neglect it the disposal of it begins to pass out of our hands. God's law is that as soon as you let it be idle you forfeit your title to it, and before you know it, it shall be utterly and irrevocably gone.

(Canon Duckworth.)

I. THE FATHER SPEAKS (vers. 18, 21, 24, and 25). We have a clearly-spoken Word, the Word of truth, an implanted Word, a law perfect and liberating. My Father's Word I and it is like Him! A life-giving Word: in it, God, who raiseth the dead, works by His renewing Spirit to summon out of their spiritual graves His innumerable children; "of His own will begat He us with the Word of truth." My Father's Word I and it is like Him! Who by searching can exhaust it? It will stand looking into (ver. 25). Let us be found bending over it, searching into it, meditating on it day and night: delight thyself in the law of the Lord. My Father's Word t and it is like Him! It is the kingly Word of the King of kings — the royal law — the perfect law. Obeyed, this law is perfection, for the law lived out is the life of Christ. And the world under its sway would be a perfect world. My Father's Word! and it is like Him! The law that makes free, the law that is for free souls, the law of love that casts out fear, that binds me to my Father's heart and shows that man is my brother; the law of life and love that lifts me above the slave's cowering service; the full, sweet, comforting Word, freeing me when in Christ from all condemnation, from all fear of men, of death and the future.

II. THE CHILD HEARS. Obedience is the proof of the new birth. As the prerogative of the Father is to speak out His will, which is law, so the privilege of the child is to hear His Father's good pleasure. "I will hear what God the Lord will speak." In this filial hearkening are found three marked and distinguishing features.

1. There is, first, the attentive silence of warmest affection (ver. 20). The thoughtful and loving child will be swift to hear, slow to speak.

2. The child will hear with the filial submissiveness of true humility.

3. The child will hear with eager desire and honest efforts to fulfil the Father's law. Sonship and service are proportionate — as the son, so is the service. The perfect Son yielded the perfect service. The truer and higher our childhood, the truer and higher will be our obedience. We are not to hear merely to learn, but learn that we may live. Christianity is both a science and an art: it is exact hearing of exact truth, and the appropriate embodiment of that sublime truth in worthy forms.

III. THE OBEDIENT CHILD GROWS GODLIKE. The true hearer becomes a joy to the brokenhearted and strength to the weak (ver. 27). Can it be otherwise when we sit at His feet who is a husband to the widow and a Father to the fatherless?

(J. S. Macintosh, D. D.)

1. Hearing is good, but should not be rested in. They that stay in the means are like a foolish workman, that contents himself with the having of tools.

2. The doers of the Word are the best hearers. The heater's life is the preacher's best commendation. They that praise the man but do not practise the matter are like those that taste wines that they may commend them, not buy them. Others come that they may better their parts and increase their knowledge. Seneca observed of the philosophers, that when they grew more learned they were less moral. And generally we find now a great decay of zeal, with the growth of notion and knowledge, as if the waters of the sanctuary had put out the fire of the sanctuary, and men could not be at the same time learned and holy. Others hear that they may say they have heard; conscience would not be pacified without some worship: "They come as My people use to do" (Ezekiel 33:31); that is, according to the fashion of the age. Duties by many are used as a sleepy sop to allay the rage of conscience. The true use of ordinances is to come that we may profit. Usually men speed according to their aim and expectation (1 Peter 2:2; Psalm 119:11). The mind, like the ark, should be the chest of the law, that we may know what to do in every case, and that truths may be always present with us, as Christians find it a great advantage to have truths ready and present, to talk with them upon all occasions (Proverbs 6:21, 22).

3. From that παραλογιζομένοι. DO not cheat yourselves with a fallacy or false argument. Observe that self-deceit is founded in some false argumentation or reasoning. Conscience supplieth three offices — of a rule, a witness, and a judge; and so accordingly the act of conscience is threefold. There is συντήρησις or a right apprehension of the principles of religion; so conscience is a rule: there is συνείδησις, a sense of our actions compared with the rule or known will of God, or a testimony concerning the proportion or disproportion that our actions bear with the Word: then, lastly, there is κρίσις, or judgment, by which a man applieth to himself those rules of Christianity which concern his fact or state.

4. That men are easily deceived into a good opinion of themselves by their bare hearing. We are apt to pitch upon the good that is in any action, and not to consider the evil of it: I am a hearer of the Word, and therefore I am in good ease.(1) Consider the danger of such a self-deceit: hearing without practice draweth the greater judgment upon you.(2) Consider how far hypocrites may go in this matter. Well, therefore, outward duties with partial reformation will not serve the turn.(3) Consider the easiness of deceit (Jeremiah 17:9). Who can trace the mystery of iniquity that is in the soul? Since we lost our uprightness we have many inventions (Ecclesiastes 7:29).

(T. Manton.)

I. THE DOER.

1. Like every other practical man, he acts with a view to the attainment of some object. He acts intelligently, as a moral and responsible agent. Admitting the veracity and authority of the Word, he sets about thoroughly understanding it for one tiling, and then, guided by reason and conscience, he obeys its injunctions for another.

2. He pays strict obedience to the essential elements of active and daily engagements — earnestness, honesty, correctness, steady obedience, and watchfulness with respect to favourable opportunities.

3. There is another thing involved in the character we speak of, namely, the following of the guidance of infinite wisdom, and the being sustained by infinite power.

4. The deer of the Word fulfils his part, too, in the world of which he is an inhabitant. He is no clog on the wheel of Providence — no dead weight on the machinery of energetic and industrious employment. He does not become a fruitless and rotten branch upon the human tree; but his example is like the fresh and balmy air of the mountains, or like the blossom passing into a fuller and riper fruitfulness. But setting aside all figure, the life of such a person is a Divine purpose accomplished.

II. THE NON-DOER.

1. One of the chief features of this character is indifference to the great and solemn truths of the Christian religion.

2. Another feature of this character is forgetfulness.

3. Self-deception.

(W. D. Horwood.)

I. The apostle speaks in the text of "HEARERS ONLY." When are we so? It is when all the good we get ends with the hearing, and goes no further. This is easy work. It requires no self-denial, no dying to the world, no newness of heart and life. Are we hearers only?

1. We are surely so, if the Word of God which we hear does not separate us from our sin.

2. We are "hearers only" when the Word of God makes no more than a passing impression.

3. Another reason why so few of us who are hearers of the Word are doers of it also, is because faith is wanting — faith to receive it as the Word of God.

4. To faith must be added self-application. Place yourselves honestly in the light of Scripture. Let it bring to your own view the very secrets of your heart. Let your most besetting sin be judged by it. Let us be only brought to feel that we are labouring under a sickness which none but God can heal. Let us be fully persuaded of this, and then the Scriptures will be no longer a source of pain, but a comfort to us. For if they wound, they also have power to cure.

II. WHEN THE WORD OF GOD IS THUS APPLIED TO US IN SPIRIT AND IN POWER, THEN WE BECOME DOERS OF IT, AND NOT HEARERS ONLY.

III. BE YE THUS "DOERS OF THE WORD, AND NOT HEARERS ONLY, DECEIVING YOUR OWN SELVES." What has our "hearing," what has our religion done for us? Has it convinced us of our sin? humbled us before God?

(E. Blencowe, M. A.)

The admonition, Be ye doers of the Word, not hearers only. St. James having not in vain learned in the parable of Christ that the seed being cast into the four several grounds, yet fructifieth but in one only, and seeing by daily experience that many men make show of religion, but yet live careless in their conversation, showeth most notably what manner of hearers the gospel requireth, even such as hear not only, but do also. To do the Word is double.

1. To do it absolutely and perfectly, so that both the heart consent and the outward life answer fully to the law of God in perfect measure. To which doing God in the law did promise life (Leviticus 18:5). This no man can possibly perform; for what man ever could love God with a perfect heart, with all his soul, with his whole affection, strength, and power? What man ever loved his neighbour as himself? Where is he, and who is he, that continueth in all things that are written in the law to do them? The holy men of God, therefore, seeing themselves to come short of the doing of the Word and law in this matter and manner of doing, have, in the humility of their minds, accounted themselves as sinners, and therefore have confessed their transgressions before the Lord.

2. Seeing that no man is able thus to do the Word, there must some other kind of doing the Word be by St. James here required; therefore there is a doing of the Word and law under the gospel, when Christ, for us and our salvation, fulfilled the law in perfect measure, and therefore is called the fulfilling of the law to all that believe the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of sanctification, that thereby they, after some measure, may truly do His will, earnestly cleave unto His Word, faithfully believe His promises, unfeignedly love Him for His goodness, and fear Him with reverence for His mighty power. This performance of obedience offered to God must shine in the saints, which, as necessary in all professors of God's Word, is joined with the hearing thereof (Matthew 7:24; Matthew 12:30; Luke 8:20; Luke 11:28). To hear or know, then, the Word of God, and not to do His will, prevaileth nothing. This knew the holy prophets, who therefore joined practice of the will and the hearing of the Word and law of God. This the holy angel in the Revelation, weighing and pronouncing them blessed only which join practice with hearing of the Word, breaketh out and crieth (Revelation 1:3). "Be ye doers of the Word, not hearers only." Of which admonition there are two reasons. The first is from detriment and hurt. They that hear only, and do not the Word also, are hurtful to themselves; for they deceive themselves in a vain persuasion, and thereby hurt themselves to their own juster condemnation. The second reason why we must be doers of the Word, not hearers only, is drawn from the use of the Word, which is to reform in us those things that are amiss; this profit and use we lose when we hear the Word only, and do not thereafter. This use of' God's law and Word Moses commendeth unto princes and people (Deuteronomy 17:18). This use was respected when he willed the Levites to teach the law unto the people (Deuteronomy 31:12). David, disputing the use and end of the law, maketh it the former of our manners, the director of our paths, the line and level of our life, and the guide of our ways to godliness (Psalm 119:9). St. Paul affirmeth that all Scripture is inspired from above, and is profitable (2 Timothy 3:16) to teach such as are ignorant, to convince such as are repugnant, to correct such as err and wander in conversation, to instruct in righteousness — wherefore? to what end? to what use? to what purpose? Even that thereby the man of God may be absolute and perfect to every good work.

(R. Turnbull.)

The text is a severe caveat for the due receiving the Word of God. And it is framed in that manner as is like to be most effectual; and that is, by forewarning us of a great mischief that will befall us if we fail in the duty.

I. First, come we to THE DUTY PRESCRIBED. The duty presupposed. That we must be hearers. And because there are many things that wilt crave our audience, and the ear lies open to every voice (Ecclesiastes 1:8), therefore, in point of faith and religion, the apostle limits our hearing to the only and proper object, and that is the Word of God.

1. All our religious hearing must be conversant about this one thing, the Word of God. The text places us, like Mary, at Christ's feet, commends unto us that one thing necessary.(1) It is proper to the blessed Word to enlighten us and to acquaint us with the mind of God. This Word made David wiser than than his elders, for all their experience; it made him wiser than his teachers, for all their craft (Psalm 119:98-100).(2) It is proper to this good Word of God to regenerate, to sanctify, and reform us (ver. 18).(3) Salvation — it is proper to this Word of God (John 5:39). Some sober truths may be in other words; but saving truth is only to be found in the Word of God.

2. Our attention and hearing of this blessed Word — it is enjoined us. It is no indifferent, arbitrary thing left to our own liking — come to it at your leisure, or stay at home at your pleasure — but imposed upon us by a strong obligation.(1) It is enjoined us as a duty. It is the preface which God premises to His law, "Hear, O Israel." Necessity is laid upon us, and woe be to us if we do not. So St. James (ver. 19): "Let every man be swift to hear." Swift, ready, quick, diligent, suffer not a word to fall to the ground.(2) It is a weighty duty, not slightly to be esteemed. It is a great part of our religion. In it we make a real protestation of our allegiance and humble subjection, Which we owe to our God.(3) It is a fundamental duty, the prime, original duty of our religion, the mother and nurse of all other duties which we owe to God. Hearing and receiving the Word, it is the inlet and entrance of all piety.(4) It is a duty exceeding beneficial to us. Many rich and precious pro-raises are made to the due receiving of the Word of God. See two main ones in the context: It is an engrafted Word, able to alter and change our nature; of a wild crab-stock, it will make it a kindly plant. It sanctifies our nature, and makes it fructify. It is able to save our soul. "Hear, and your soul shall live" (Isaiah 4). There is in it a Divine power to free us from perdition, to give us entrance and admission into heaven.(5) It is not only a duty and means to beget grace at first, but of perpetual use to increase and continue it. It is not only incorruptible seed to beget us (1 Peter 1:23), but milk to nourish us (1 Peter 2:2), not only milk, but strong meat to strengthen us (Hebrews 5.).

II. THE MISTAKE WE MUST BEWARE OF IN PERFORMING THIS DUTY. Hear we must, but we must not only hear. There are more duties than only hearing which we owe to this Word of God. Take it in these particulars:

1. Hearing is not the whole sum and body of religion; it is but a part only. The body of religion is like the natural body of a man; it consists of many members and parts. So religion consists of several services — hearing, praying, practising, doing holily, suffering patiently — it puts all graces to their due exercise. He cannot be accounted a man who is destitute of any vital or substantial part; nor can he go for a good Christian who wilfully fails in any of those holy duties that are required of him.

2. Hearing, as it is but one part of piety, so it is but the first part and step of piety, Now as he who only tastes meat and goes no further is far off from nourishment, because he stays at the beginning: or as he who travels must not only set out, but hold on, or he will not finish his journey, so in piety hearing is but the first step — a progress must be made in all other duties.

3. Hearing is a religious duty; but not prescribed for itself, but in reference and subordination to other duties. Like those arts that are called instrumental arts, and are only to fit us for other and higher performances, their use is only for preparation.

4. In comparison with the substantial parts of piety, bare hearing is but an easy duty. Indeed, to hear as we should do, attentively, reverently, devoutly, is a task of some pains, but yet of a great deal easier discharge than other duties are. Thus we see that only hearing of God's Word falls short of our main duty, makes us no good Christians. It may be, we will grant, that the bare, outward bodily hearing of the Word may be justly reprovable; but yet we think if our hearing be attended with some commendable conditions, which we hope will be accepted and stand us in some stead. As —(1) If it be a diligent hearing, constant, and assiduous upon all occasions. St. Paul tells of some that are always learning, and so would be taken for devout Christians, and yet he passeth an hard censure upon them.(2) What if it be hearing with some proficiency, when we so hear as that we understand and grow in knowledge, and our mind is edified, such as do as Christ bids them do (Matthew 15:10; Mark 13:14); such an hearing, we trust, will serve the turn. Even this great progress in knowledge, if thou stoppest there, will stand thee in no stead. Hell is full of such auditors; beware of it. Even this hearing, with proficiency in knowledge, if thou go no further, will fail thee at last.(3) But what if our hearing go another step further, and so it be an affectionate hearing, that we hear the Word with great warmth of affection, sure then we are past danger. But a reverend hearing will not suffice if it stops there and comes short of practising. What if we bring with us another commendable affection in our hearing — the affection of joy, and gladness, and delight in hearing? As for those who are listless in this duty, who find no sweetness in the Word of God, we condemn them for unworthy auditors. Nay, not only such, but thou mayest hear the Word of God with joy, and yet if thou failest in point and obedience, thy religion is vain. But what if this hearing of the Word of God doth so much affect us that it begets many good motions in us, and we find ourselves inwardly wrought upon; then we conclude that we are right good auditors, and have heard to purpose. Ye may have sudden flashes, good moods, passionate wishes, nay, purposes and good intendments, at the hearing of God's Word, and yet ye may miscarry. It is not purposes, but performances, that will bring us to heaven.

III. BE DOERS OF, THE WORD. And here comes in the conjunction of both duties — hearing and doing. These put together make up a good Christian. And great reason there is for this conjunction, to know and to perform. Not to hear nor know breeds a blind religion; we would be doing, but we know not what. To know and not to do breeds a lame religion; we see our way, but we walk not in it. Both are requisite to true religion (Proverbs 19:2). And if it hath knowledge without practice, it is never a whit the better. For as the bare knowledge of evil, if we do not practise it, makes us never the worse, so the knowing of good, if we do not practise it, makes us not the better.

1. The nature of religion requires it. What is religion? It is not a matter of contemplation, but of action. It is an operative, practical virtue. It is an art of holy living. It begets not a speculative knowledge swimming in the brain, but works devotion and obedience in the heart and life.

2. The Author of religion is represented in Scripture not as a Teacher or Doctor only, but as a Commander and Law-giver.

3. The subject of religion, wherein it is placed, is not so much the knowing part of our soul as the active part, the will and affections, which are the spring of practice. Religion is never rightly seated till it be settled in the heart, and from that flow the issues of life.

4. That religion is an holy art of life and practice, the summary description of religion in Scripture shows us (1 Timothy 6:3; 1 Timothy 3:16; 2 Timothy 1:13; Acts 24:16). Now, practical truths are best learned by practice; their goodness is best known by use and performance. As a rich and costly garment appears, then, most comely and beautiful, not when the workman hath made it, but when it is worn and put upon our body, so, saith , the Scripture appears glorious when it is by the preacher expounded; but far more glorious when by the people it is obeyed and performed. Without this doing what we hear, all our hearing is but in vain. As eating of meat, except by the heat of the stomach it be digested and conveyed into all the parts of the body, will never support life, so it is not receiving the Word into our ears, but the transmitting of it into our lives that makes it profitable. Nay, hearing and knowing makes us much the worse if it ends not in doing, as meat taken into the stomach, if not well digested, will breed diseases.

IV. THE DANGER IF WE FAIL IN THIS DUTY, We deceive our own selves; that's the mischief.

1. They are deceived who place all their religion in bare hearing, let go all practice. They suffer a deceit in their opinion, run into a gross error. And that is a misery, were there no more but that in it. Man, naturally, is a knowing creature, abhors to be mistaken. As St. saith, he hath known many that love to deceive others; but to be deceived themselves, he never knew any. Now, they who think hearing of the Word is sufficient, without doing and practising, they show they utterly mistake the very nature and purpose of God's Word, the use and benefit whereof is all in practice. The Word of God is called a Law. "Give ear, O Israel, to My law." When the king proclaims a law to be observed, shall we think him a good subject who listens to it, or reads it over, or copies it out, or talks of it, but never thinks or cares to observe and obey it? The Word of God is called Seed. Were it not a gross error for an husbandman to buy seed-corn and store it up, and then let it lie, and never go about to sow his land with it? The Word is called Meat and Nourishment. Is not he foully deceived who, when he comes to a feast, will look upon what is set before him, commend it, or taste it only, and then spit it out, and never feed of it? Is this to feast it, only to look upon it, and never feed on it? St. James calls the Word a Looking-glass. A looking-glass is to show our spots, and what is amiss in us. Is not he deceived who thinketh it is only to gaze into, and never takes notice of any uncomeliness to amend and rectify it? The Word is the Physic of the Soul, the Balm of Gilead. Is not he deceived that shall take the prescript of a physician, and think all is well if he reads it and lays it up by him, or puts it in his pocket, and makes no other use of it? The Word is called the Counsel of God. What a vanity is it to listen to good counsel, and never to follow it? And this miscarriage, that they run into error and are foully mistaken, is a just punishment, pertinent unto them who will be only hearers and knowers of religion only. They are punished. They aim only at knowledge and rest in that, it is just they should be punished in that which they so much affected; that they should fail in that which they only aimed at. Instead of knowledge, they are fallen into error. These hearers pride themselves in knowledge; they boast of their skill in the law; they are the only knowing Christians, none but they. As their forefathers the Pharisees spake (John 9:40). They are justly gulled and mistaken. These hypocritical hearers aim at deceiving of others. It is just that deceivers should be deceived. Impostors in religion should themselves be mistakers.

2. As they are deceived in their opinion, so they are deceived in their expectation. These Christians that are all ears and no hands, they promise great matters to themselves — God's favour, and heaven itself — and hope to do as well as the most laborious practisers. Vain men! how will they be deceived and disappointed of their hopes? That is the first evil consequence — they are deceived. They are self-deceived; that is a second mischief, and that is worse. It is ill to be deceived; but to be authors of our own errors and disappointments, to deceive ourselves, that's a double misery.(1) They think to deceive God, to beguile Him with their empty shows of devotion. Thou wouldst hear Him, but not obey Him; He will hear thee too, but He will not answer thee.(2) They think to deceive the minister, put him off with a bare hearing. As Gehazi thought to carry it cunningly, and to delude Elisha; but it will be found that they will cozen themselves.(3) They think to deceive their neighbours, and by their seeming forwardness to delude them. Well, that imposture holds not always. There is never a counterfeit cripple but is sometimes seen walking without his crutches. The hypocrite's vizor will sometime or other fall from his face. and then he will appear in his true colours. There is some excuse to be over-reached by others; it makes the sin or error more pardonable. But who will pity him that cozens himself? Nay, such self-deceivers, they act a double part in sinning, and so shall undergo a double portion in punishment. The misleaders and misled shall both fall into the ditch.

3. They deceive themselves in a matter of the greatest moment and consequence; and that is worst of all. And such a deceit as this hath these three aggravations: — It is a most shameful cozenage. Slight oversights are more excusable; but to miss in the greatest business, that is most ridiculous. This is the man who is cunning in trifles, but grossly deceiving himself in soul business. How shameful is that! The greatest loss — the loss of salvation — that is an estimable loss. It is an irrecoverable deceit. Other mistakes may be rectified; but he who cheats himself of his own soul and his heavenly inheritance is undone for ever. To have all our thoughts to perish, all our imaginations and hopes of going to heaven to be a mere delusion; not to be mistaken in some particulars, but in the end to be a fool!

(Bp. Brownrig.)

I. By "the Word" we are to understand that which was delivered to mankind by the inspired messengers of God, and is transmitted to us in the books of the Old and New Testaments. In this it hath pleased the Most High God to declare His mind, and to reveal to us both Himself and His will. How men deceive themselves by being not doers of the Word, but hearers only.

1. They deceive themselves in supposing that what they do is acceptable to God, and conducive to the honour of His name. Wherefore do you hear the Word of God but that you may become acquainted with His will? And what is His will, but that you may become "doers of His Word, and not hearers only"? And if you neglect to do it, are you not acting in direct opposition to His will? and is not this directly contradictory to the very purpose for which you hear? And if you can persuade yourselves to think otherwise, are you not "deceiving yourselves," and mocking and affronting, instead of serving and honouring, God?

2. If you do no good, be assured that you can receive no good from such hearing as this. Is a man at all the better for hearing of an advantageous bargain unless he makes it? Is a man at all nearer his journey's end for knowing the way thither unless he proceeds in it?

3. But the evil rests not here. For they, who are "hearers only, and not doers of the Word," are so far from being placed by their knowledge in a better condition, that they are indeed placed in a worse. To have heard the will of God is a high aggravation of their crime in not doing it. It is to rebel against the light.

(Bp. Mant.)

No self-deception is so universal as that which arises from hearing for the mere sake of hearing, without ever thinking of acting out in the life what is heard with the ear. On the lowest calculation of the number of places of worship in this country, there must be at least one hundred thousand sermons preached every Sunday. All these sermons are preached from texts taken from the Word of God, any one of which, if followed up with any care or faithfulness, would lead the person so following it up abreast of all the truths of the Christian religion, and yet how extremely small is the practical impression.

(M. F. Sadler, M. A.)

An expressive eulogy was pronounced by Martin Luther upon a pastor at Zwickau, in 1522, named Nicholas Haussmann. "What we preach," said the great reformer, "he lives."

At one time, when I was preaching for Father Taylor, he rose at the conclusion of the sermon, and said, "If some things have been said that you do not understand, much has been said that you do understand: follow that."

(Joseph Marsh.)

When the emperor himself (Constantine) was announced to preach, thousands flocked to the palace. He stood erect, with his head tossed back, and poured forth a torrent of facile eloquence, and the people applauded all his points. Now he denounced the follies of paganism, now it was the unity of Providence or the scheme of redemption that formed his theme; and often he would denounce the avarice and rapacity of his own courtiers. It was then observed that they all cheered lustily, but it was also noticed that they did not mend their ways.

Charles the First used to say of the preaching of one of his chaplains, afterwards Bishop Sanderson, ,'I carry my ears to hear other peachers, but I carry my conscience to hear Mr. Sanderson and to act accordingly."

(Isaac Walton.)

There is a very strange and suggestive contrast between the two senses in which it may be said that a man "forgets himself." On the one hand the phrase is sometimes used to mark that high grace of sympathy or love whereby the desire and energy of the heart is transferred from the gratification of a man's own tastes to the pure service of his fellow-men: that true conversion, whereby the will is rescued from its original sin of selfishness and wholly set upon the glory of God and the good of those for whom His Son was crucified. But it is, surely, an inaccurate use of words to say of such an one that he forgets himself. For he only forgets his own wishes and pleasures and comfort, he forgets those things which other men gather round them and delight in until they seem essential to their very life; but all the while his true self is vividly and actively present in the labour which proceedeth of love; it goes freely out in unreserved devotion, only to come again with joy, enriched and strengthened both by the exercise of its affection and the answering love which it has won. So it has been well said that in the life of love we die to self; but the death is one not of annihilation but of transmigration. It is in the other sense of the common phrase that men do more truly forget themselves: when they so surrender their will to some blind impulse, some irrational custom, some animal craving, that for a while they seem driven as autumn leaves before the changing gusts, they know not how or whither. A man can live for days, and months, and years, without ever giving any reality or force to the knowledge that he is himself an immortal soul; without ever really feeling his essential separation from things visible, his independence of them, his distinct existence in himself, his power of acting for himself in this way or in that, his personal responsibility for his every choice end action. As he wakes in the morning, as he is regaining from the blind life of sleep the wonder of self-consciousness, at once the countless interests which await him in the coming day rush in upon him, there, in his own room, during the one half-hour, perhaps, when he can be alone in all his waking time, the distractions of the outer world are already around him. And so he goes forth to his work and to his labour until the evening; and all day long he is looking only at the things about him, he is committing the guidance and control of his ways to that blind and alien life which wavers and struggle around him, and of which he should rather be himself the critic and guide. We can never cancel the act whereby man became a living soul; we can never cease to be ourselves. But we can so turn away from self-knowledge, we can so forget ourselves and our responsibility, that this first and deepest truth of our being will no longer have its proper power in our lives. Such blurring of our own self-consciousness will always obscure and. invalidate for us the evidences of Christianity, always hinder and imperil our progress in the life of faith. Let me try briefly to show the certainty and manner of this result by speaking of three chief points in the Christian revelation which essentially presume, and require for the very understanding of their terms, that we should know ourselves as personal and spiritual beings.

I. First, then, in the very front of Christianity, in the very name of Him whom the Church preaches and adores, is set the thought of our salvation from our sins. The fact of sin is to Christianity what crime is to law, what sickness is to medicine; if sin, it has been truly said, were not an integral feature of human life, Christianity would long ago have perished. Hence the consciousness, the appreciation of sin, is essential to any sufficient estimate of the claim which Christ's message has upon our attention and obedience; even as it is necessary for the interpretation of almost every page throughout the Bible, and presupposed in psalms, and histories, and prophecies, and types. In the recognition of the enfeebled and perverted will, of the early promise unfulfilled, of early hopes obscured or cast away; in the presence of hateful memories; in the sense of conflict with desires which we can neither satisfy nor crush, and pleasures which at once detain and disappoint us; above all, in a certain fearful looking for of judgment, we begin to enter into that great longing, which, through all the centuries of history, has gone before the face of the Lord to prepare His way; and we learn to rise and welcome the witness of Him who cries that our warfare is accomplished end our iniquity is pardoned,

II. And secondly, in proportion as the consciousness of our personal and separate being grows clear and strong within us, we shall be able to enter more readily and more deeply into the Christian doctrine of our immortality; we shall be better judges of the evidence for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come: for it is as personal spirits that we shall rise again with our bodies and give account for our own works. It must be hard for us to give reality to this stupendous and all-transforming truth, so long as our thoughts and faculties are dissipated among things which know no resurrection, and interests which really shall for ever die. The message and the evidences of Christianity presuppose in us the clear sense of our own personality when they speak to us of- sin, and when they point us to a life beyond the grave; and we are fit critics of their claim in proportion as we can realise this, our deep and separate existence. It is when we recall ourselves from the scattered activity of our daily life; it is either when we have courage to go apart and stand alone and hear what the Lord God will say concerning us, or else when sickness or age has forced us into the solitude which we have always shunned: it is then that we know ourselves, and our need of a sufficient object in which the life of the soul may find its rest for ever.

(Prof. F. Paget.)

I. First, here is LOOKING INTO A GLASS. Looking into a glass is a trivial business. Is not this a hint at the light in which many regard the hearing of the gospel? Truly the burden of our lives is a pastime to some of you. Sirs, this reminds me of the fable of the frogs. When the boys stoned them, the poor creatures said, "It may be sport to you, but it is death to us." You may hear me this day with the idlest curiosity, and judge my message with the coldest criticism; but if you do not receive the blessings of the gospel, it strikes a chill at my heart.

1. Upon my first head of looking into a glass let me say, that to every hearer the true Word of God is as a mirror. The thoughts of God, and not our own thoughts, are to be set before our hearers' minds; and these discover a man to himself. The Word of the Lord is a revealer of secrets: it shows a man his life, his thoughts, his heart, his inmost self. A large proportion of hearers only look upon the surface of the gospel, and upon their minds the surface alone is operative. Yet even that surface is sufficiently effectual to reflect the natural face which looks upon it, and this may be of lasting service if rightly followed up. The reflection of self in the Word is very like life. You have, perhaps, seen a dog so astonished at his image in the glass that he has barked fiercely at himself. A parrot will mistake its reflection for a rival. Well may the creature wonder, since every one of its movements is so accurately copied; it thinks itself to be mocked. Under a true preacher men are often so thoroughly unearthed and laid bare that even the details of their lives are reported. Not only is the portrait drawn to the life, but it is an actually living portrait which is given in the mirror of the Word. There is little need to point with the finger, and say, "Thou art the man," for the hearer perceives of his own accord that he is spoken of. As the image in the glass moves, and alters its countenance, and changes its appearance, so doth the Word of the Lord set forth man in his many phases, and moods and conditions. The Scripture of truth knows all about him, and it tells him what it knows. The glass of the Word is not like our ordinary looking-glass, which merely shows us our external features; but, according to the Greek of our text, the man sees in it "the face of his birth"; that is, the face of his nature. He that reads and hears the Word may see not only his actions there, but his motives, his desires, his inward condition.

2. Many a hearer does see himself in the mirror of the Word. He is thoughtful dining the discourse, he spies out the application of the truth to himself, and marks his own spots and blemishes. Oftentimes he sees himself so plainly that he grows astonished at what he sees. You have seen yourselves so unmistakably that you have been unable to escape from the truth, but have been filled with wonder at it. But what is the use of this, if it goes no further? Why should I show you your blots if you do not seek to the Lord Jesus to have them removed? Many of our hearers go somewhat further, for they are driven to make solemn resolves after looking at themselves. Yes, they will break off their sins by righteousness; they will repent; they will believe on the Lord Jesus; and yet their fine resolves are blown away like smoke, and come to nothing. Let us not resolve and re-resolve, and yet die in our sins! But what follows? Observe, "He beholdeth himself, and goeth his way."

3. Many hearers go away from what they have seen in the Word. To-morrow morning he will be over head and ears in business; the shutters will be down from his shop-windows, but they will be put up to the windows of his soul. His office needs him, and therefore his prayer-closet cannot have him; his ledger falls like an avalanche over his Bible. The man has no time to seek the true riches; passing trifles monopolise his mind. Others have no particular business to engross them, but having seen themselves in the glass of the Word with some degree of interest, they go their way to their amusements. Alas! there are some who go their way to sin. I do not wonder that no good comes of such hearing as this. When a man seeth his face in the glass, and then goeth his way to defile that face more and more, of what use is the glass to him?

4. This going away is followed by forgetting all they have seen. The truth passes by them unappropriated, unpractised, and all because they take no earnest heed to make it their own by personal obedience to it. They are mere players with the Lord's message, and never come to honest dealing with it. Forgetfulness of the Word leads to self-satisfaction. Looking in the glass the man felt a little startled that he was such an ugly fellow, but he went his way and mingled with the crowd, and forgot what manner of man he was, and therefore he felt quite easy again. What can be more fatal than this? One may as well not know, as only learn and straightway forget. This forgetfulness leads to a growing carelessness. A man who has once looked in the glass, and afterwards has not washed, is very apt to go and look in the glass again, and continue in his filthiness. He who thinks his conscience has cried "wolf" in mere sport, will think the same till he takes no heed when it cries in earnest. When men get to play with the Word of God they are near to destruction,

II. May I have your further attention while I speak upon the true and blessed hearer? He does not look into the glass, but he is represented as LOOKING INTO THE LAW. The picture I have in my mind's eye at this moment is that of the cherubim upon the mercy-seat; these are models for us. Their standing is upon the golden mercy-seat, and our standing-place is the propitiation of our Lord; there is the resting-place of our feet, and, like the cherubs, we are joined thereto, and therefore continue therein. They stand with their eyes looking downward upon the mercy-seat, as if they desired to look into the perfect law of God which was treasured within the ark; even so do we look through the atonement of our Lord Jesus, which is to us as pure gold like unto transparent glass, and we behold the law, as a perfect law of liberty, in the person of our Mediator. Like the cherubim, we are in happy company; and like them, we look towards each other, by mutual love. Our common standing is the atonement; our common study is the law in the person of Christ; and our common posture is that of angels with outstretched wings prepared to fly at the Master's bidding.

1. Note well that the law of God is worth looking into. I understand by the "law" here not merely the law of ten commandments, but the law as it is condensed, fulfilled, and exhibited in Jesus Christ. A law is always worth considering, for we may break the law unwittingly, and involve ourselves in penalties which we might have avoided. An unknown law is a pit-fall, into which a man may fall without knowing it. It is the duty of all loyal subjects to learn the law, that they may obey it. Better still, it is a perfect law. It is a law which touches our whole nature, and works it unto perfect beauty. Who would not wish to look into a law which, like its Author, is love and purity itself? It is called the "perfect law of liberty." He that wears the yoke of Christ is the Lord's free man. Oh, brothers, I do trust our eyes will be turned to the "perfect law of liberty"; for freedom is a jewel, and none have it but those who are conformed to the mind and will of our God!

2. The true hearer looks into this perfect law of liberty with all his soul, heart, and understanding, till he knows it, and feels the force of it in his own character. He is the prince of hearers, who delights to know what God's will is, and finds his joy in acting out the same. He sees the law in its height of purity, breadth of comprehensiveness, and depth of spirituality, and the more he sees the more he admires. A man looks into the law of liberty, and he sees all perfection in Christ; he looks and looks till, by a strange miracle of grace, his own image dissolves into the image of Jesus. Surely this is a thing worth looking into, and infinitely superior to any looking into a glass merely to see yourselves. He that looks into the perfect law of liberty will not only see Christ, but he will begin to see the Eternal Spirit of God bearing witness with that law of liberty, and operating by that witness upon his own soul. Ay, and he that looks into that perfect law will, by and by, see God the Father; for the pure in heart shall see God. Those who love and live the law of God become like unto God, they are "imitators of God as dear children." They that are familiar with God's will, and love it, and study it, gradually receive the likeness of God their Father till they are called the children of God. Thus the sacred Trinity are seen and known by those who do the will of the Father in heaven. "And continueth"; that is, he continues to meditate in the law, and he continues to own his allegiance to it. He also continues to practise it; he does not begin and then turn aside, but he continues to make advances in holy living, and he continues by a final perseverance to follow on. The man who obtains the blessing of the Lord is by God's grace made to continue in it. I have heard of a famous King of Poland, who did brave deeds in his day, and confessed that he owed his excellent character to a secret habit which he had formed. He was the son of a noble father, and he carried with him a miniature portrait of this father, and often looked upon it. Whenever he went to battle he would look upon the picture of his father, and nerve himself to valour. When he sat in the council-chamber he would secretly look upon the image of his father, and behave himself right royally; for he said, "I will do nothing that can dishonour my father's name." Now, this is the grand thing for a Christian to do: to carry about with him the will of God in his heart, and then in every action to consult that will.

3. To conclude: you notice how it says, "this man shall be blessed in his deed." Mark: "this man," "this man." These demonstrative pronouns act like fingers. In my text there is a person who has seen himself in the glass, and he has gone his way; but we need not mind about him, he is of no account. But here is a man who has been looking into the law, and has continued to look into it, and the Holy Spirit has selected him from all others, and marked him as "this man." This man is blessed. Where IS this man? Where is this woman? Judge whether you are the persons thus called and chosen; whether you are abiding in love to that law, which has won your heart. "This man shall be blessed in his deed." "Oil," saith one, "I do not see the blessedness of true religion!" No, you are not likely to see it, because you do not do it. This man is blessed "in his deed." "In keeping His commandments there is great reward." Much of the blessedness of godliness lies in the practice of godliness. Not in consideration of doctrine, but in obedience to precept the blessing lies. "This man shall be blessed in his deed." In the very act of serving his Lord and Master he shall be blessed; not for it but in it.

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

A capacity for self-knowledge is one of our distinctive endowments. We have no reason to suppose that other creatures are capable of knowing themselves. This distinctive capacity implies a duty. "Know thyself," we are told, is a precept that descended from Heaven. But, whatever its origin, it speaks with the highest authority. It is self-commended. And this duty is a great privilege. "The study of mankind is man." Oar own nature is necessarily central to all our studies. For this self-knowledge we are furnished with abundant means. The universe, as a revelation of God, is a mirror for man. Nature, as in a book, presents us with a picture of ourselves. But how strange it is that, possessing such a mirror, we make so little use of it! With all our self-love, how is it that we are not only indifferent to, but even shrink from a genuine self-knowledge? We seek to know how we appear; we turn away from the knowledge of what we are. Against the consequences of this ignorance of ourselves, God warns us and urges upon us the duty of a genuine self-knowledge. In the text we are cautioned against the fatal temptation of paying a merely outward homage to the "Word of God without any practical intent, as though hearing it were a lawful pastime, or could be pleasing to God, or of any avail to us apart from its embodiment in our will, our words, and our works. In a spirit becoming those who have received such an exhortation, let us hear and look into this "living Word," that "with open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, we may be changed into the same image, from glory to glory, as of the Lord, the Spirit," that it may become to us "the perfect law of liberty," "the law of the spirit of life in Jesus Christ." For "the Lord is that Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is there is liberty."

I. FIRST OF ALL WE DIRECT OUR ATTENTION TO THE WORD WE ARE EXHORTED TO HEAR AND DO. It is emphatically called "the Word," "the Word of God," or, as in the connection of the text, "the Word of the Truth," or, in another scripture, "the Word of the Truth of the Gospel," as "Truth is in Jesus." Words are wonderful — as expressions of thought and feeling, reason and will. The Word of God brings God to us. In His Word we have the mind of His Spirit clothed in forms apprehensible by our senses. It is the record of His Mind and Will concerning us. The Word of God is the outward form of an abiding spiritual force; once uttered, it remains a spiritual power always, and everywhere working according to tits will. "The Word of God," is the name of His only-begotten Son, who, at "the fulness of time," came out from God, and came into the world." to reveal to us the Father, and make known to us in words of "spirit and life," His will. This final revelation of the Will of God bus its verbal embodiment in the words of the gospel, its incarnation in Jesus, its abiding spiritual power in the Holy Spirit. As heard it addresses the ear, as seen it appeals to the eye, as felt it moves in the heart.

II. THIS WORD OF GOD IS SPOKEN OF IN OUR TEXT AS A MIRROR, OR GLASS, IN WHICH WE MAY SEE WHAT MANNER OF MEN WE ARE. All words should mirror the mind of the speaker. God is revealed in His Word. He makes Himself known in all His words, and ways, and works. In the Son of Man we "behold, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord." In Him, the Incarnate Word, man's nature is complete, its idea satisfactorily embodied, the Divine image fully expressed, and God glorified in the world. God is "well-pleased" to see again His own image and likeness in the face of man; and men are called to behold in Jesus, the Word made flesh, "the glory of the Only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." The revelations of God are means of self-knowledge for man. The Word presents a mirrored face of what man ought to be, and not only the ideal of what he ought to be, but also the image of what he really is. It discerns and reveals the thoughts and intents of the heart. The shadow of the beholder, as he is, is thrown upon the bright image of what he ought to be. The true form in the Word, as a glass, reflects the false form of the beholder, which it judges and condemns. The mirror of the Word judges the shadow of what we are by receiving it upon the fair image of what we ought to be.

III. THE WORD OF GOD IS NOT ONLY A MIRROR, BUT ALSO A LAW. The law commands, presents obligation, awakens conviction, points to its sanction, but does not enforce compliance. Force belongs not to the moral sphere. The capacity to obey is a capacity to suffer for disobedience, but one which is intolerant of force. Obedience is of the heart which is the very seat and soul of liberty. The discovery of our defects by the law which judges them, awakens a feeling of culpability, self-condemnation and exposure to punishment. We feel that defect and disobedience with respect to this law are not misfortunes but sins, hence a sense of blameworthiness. Now, of all laws, "the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus," as law, is the most burdensome and oppressive, and for this reason, that it is perfect and pertains to the whole life — allowing no thought, no desire, for a single moment, to be withdrawn from its universal empire.

IV. LET US NOW INQUIRE WHAT IS MEANT BY THIS EXPRESSION, "THE PERFECT LAW," AS APPLIED TO THE GOSPEL. Are not all laws perfect? There are many forms of law, all of which have their pre-supposition in goodness, and have also this in common, that their action is uniform under the same circumstances. Law is the regulative controlling power of that to which it belongs. As an idea, it is necessary to the conception of anything; and, as such, it is the same for the same creature under the same conditions.

1. Natural law is this governing idea in the form of necessity, and operative as force. Such are all the laws of inorganic matter; such, too, are the laws of vegetable and animal life, at least, for the most part.

2. But the law of intelligent creatures is presented for reception, not imposed; is a law which coin-man(is, but does not necessitate obedience. It pre-supposes freedom and the possibility of obedience being refused.

3. Then there is what Paul terms "the law of the spirit of life," which is a free, spontaneous, eager, intense spirit of obedience, not acting within a sphere it is required to fill by the imperative of an outward law, but from a central fire of love which anticipates all commands and outstrips all requirements. This was the service Christ rendered and required. "If any man has not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of His." There is yet another form of law, which is determined, as to its form, by the circumstances, state, and condition of its subjects, in view of the end proposed. You may call it the law of the end. Let me illustrate. A gardener wishes to train a tree in a certain direction, and sees that it will require a certain number of stakes and a given strength of cordage to fold its branches in the required position; in other words, to be a law to it. These requirement,, imposed by the purpose, are the law of the end. Their wisdom and value can only be judged of when looked at in relation to the end which they are intended to serve. In like manner, certain forms of ritual and ceremonial, among the Jews, owe their existence, form, and place in their history to the circumstances and condition of the nation, in view of the purposes of God concerning mankind. But, in addition to these, the text speaks of "the perfect law" in a sense somewhat different from any of them. By the perfect law is meant the Old Testament in its final, completed development — in its purposed, perfect outcome — in "the law of the spirit of life." What is meant is "the word of the truth of the gospel," as the norm of Christian life. It is "perfect" because it attains the end of the law — liberty. For "the word of the truth," as "is truth in Jesus," carries "the law of the spirit of His life," which makes free from "the law of sin and death." And further, the law of the spirit of His life is "the perfect law" as being final, complete, and possessed of the power and the purpose of all law at the height of its excellency — the power of the obedience of life. It pre-supposes other laws, and is spoken of as perfect in the sense of its being final. There is no other Jaw to come after it. It is also perfect in this sense — that all the requirements of God are reduced to simplicity and unity of principle. "Love God," says this perfect law, "and you will not fail to do His will," for "love is the fulfilling of the law." This is the new and final commandment, the perfect law in a single word" Love." And this one principle is, in "the perfect law of liberty," embodied in life. The Jaw is fulfilled in Christ, lives in Him, is the spirit of His life, and capable of being given to us. In His Spirit the law of life is lost in liberty, and its freedom is the blessedness of a chosen necessity.

V. WE NEED SCARCELY ADD THAT THIS "PERFECT LAW," HIDDEN IN THE HEART AS THE VERY SPIRIT OF THE AFFECTIONS, GIVES LIBERTY TO THE LIFE. Law and liberty do but express opposite relations to the same ideal of our nature. When we are dead we are under it as law, but when we live our life is free in the restful, self-satisfied experience of its true and just-proportioned powers. The ideal has become real and enjoys its living fulfilment. And the life which fulfils it loves the measurements and limits of its sphere and is free. And when we are free we are so disposed to the governing law of our nature that we are sweetly drawn to all its requirements and instinctively observe all its limitations. The law of liberty is a power of love in the heart, the love of the creature to the Creator, of the child to the Father, of the saved to the Saviour. This is the freedom enjoyed under "the perfect law of liberty," or, as it is termed in another place, "the royal law." The law is perfect because it is embodied in its own life; it is a law of liberty, because the life in which it is presented is a spirit of love to the Law-giver; and it is a "royal law," because it proceeds from the royalty of the Father's heart, and lives in the loyalty of the child's affections, as a power of "bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ." It thus liberates from every bondage by a Divine captivation, in which the liberty is a necessity hidden in the heart.

(W. Pulsford, D. D.)

I. THE APOSTLE SPECIFIES A CERTAIN KIND OF MAN. "If any man be a hearer of the Word, and not a doer."

1. A man may be prompted to hear the word by motives in which true religion is not at all involved. A habit formed in early life — a regard to what is considered respectable — or a wish to have his intellect gratified, may be the true explanation of the frequency with which he enters church.

2. A person, hearing the Word, may, notwithstanding, be so listless and unconcerned, as scarcely to receive any impression, whether intellectual or moral, from what he hears.

3. On the part of men who do, to a great extent, understand the meaning of what they hear, and who even receive mental excitement and enjoyment, there may be ingenuity enough to shut out from their consciences the moral impression which the heavenly message is intended to produce.

II. The apostle proceeds, by a figurative illustration, to DESCRIBE THE HEARER WHOM HE SPECIFIES. "He is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass," &c.

1. The Word of God is represented as a mirror. And why? Because it makes objects manifest.

2. The man who hears the Word, but does it not, is compared to "a man beholding his natural face in a glass." True, of those who stand before the mirror of the Word there are some of whom it might be almost said, that they shut their eyes, and thus receive no impression from that Word at all. But certainly the hearer of Divine truth does, in general, receive some impression on his mind from hearing it. It seems morally impossible for any sane man to hear, for many successive times, a message so plain and so peculiar as that of the Word of God, without having his understanding, at least, whatever may be the case with his conscience and his heart, in a greater or less degree affected. But —

3. The man to whom he that heareth the Word, and doeth it not, is here compared, is represented as "going his way," when he has "beheld his natural face in a glass," and "forthwith forgetting what manner of man he was." As from the one, so also from the other, the impression of what he has seen speedily departs. The hopeful impression dies — the man who so lately stood before the mirror "forgetteth what manner of man he was."

(A. S. Patterson, D. D.)

Now the whole passage exhibits a striking difference, amounting to a complete contrast in the results which are accomplished in different persons who came into contact, more or less close, with this great "law," "word," or "gospel" of God.

I. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE IN THE ACT MANNER OF LOOSING. The natural man looks into the gospel superficially, the spiritual man more deeply. A man looking well into the perfect law of liberty is as it were drawn into it, and draws it into himself. A man of appreciative taste looking at a famous painting, will feel drawn into it as it were. He will become in a degree unconscious of the things and the persons around. He will be standing in that highland glen! or resting in that sylvan glade I or dashing in triumph through that foaming sea! So a man, looking aright at the gospel, will feel as though he was drawn into it, and it into him! He will be received into the kingdom, and the kingdom into him.

II. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE IN THE TIME OCCUPIED IN THE LOOKING. If a man were to sit down and make out a time-table of his own life, classifying his waking hours according to the several occupations in which he is generally engaged, and allotting to each the time that is spent in it, how much would be for religious contemplation for "beholdings" of the gospel of God? In the case of some, the time would be found to be exceedingly brief. So that, when the looking is not only superficial but extremely transient, it is not at all surprising that the practical results should be scanty and poor. Here let it be understood that we ask for nothing high-strained of impossible. Religion is a reasonable service, Now I will put a case which has often been in your experience. You are very busy. And yet it has sometimes happened in your busiest time that a matter has arisen suddenly, one claiming instant attention. And you did it; and nothing else was neglected; a day that seemed full of duty, has room in it for a supreme duty; and that duty well done, imparted a higher character to everything else that was in the day, and the calm and rest of the evening were the sweeter for that happy retrospect in which nothing lay undone. It is just so that religion, having due time at signed to it, will come in not to enfeeble but to strengthen the toiling men — not to excite and waste, but to calm and purify, these fretful days.

III. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE IN THE PRACTICAL ACTION TAKEN AS THE RESULT OF THE LOOKING, The careless looker — he who looks superficially and transiently — "goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth" — takes no action at all. Even with his looking, he saw that some, action ought to be taken, and without delay. He looks in the glass, and sees spots on his countenance, and feels that these ought to be removed. He has sights, but no corresponding deeds. He has convictions, but no corresponding performances. He has feelings without decisions, longings without realisations, constant hearing of the Word but no doing of the work. On the other hand, he who looketh into the law of liberty with profit, looks that he may do; and does that he may look again with clearer eye. Suppose such a man, not yet an assured Christian, only becoming one. He looks and sees himself, covered as we all are by nature with the defilements of sin. And what does he do? Does he go away in forgetfulness, or does he lie down in despair? He does neither. He goes to the open fountain, and washes and is clean. Or he sees God revealed in Christ. Christ as "God manifest in the flesh," radiant in His own perfections and yet overflowing with love to us, reconciling the world unto God and not imputing unto men their trespasses. But is he satisfied with the sigh? No. He comes to Christ. He trusts Him that he may be justified. And so of everything else, a required sacrifice is made — an recumbent duty is done — an opened path in providence is followed. And so strength comes, and purity returns, and the lost image of heaven. All who behold thus, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, are "changed into the same image."

(A. Raleigh, D. D.)

The Word, in reference to him who bears but forgets it, is represented under the figure of a glass or mirror, the general use of which, you are aware, is to exhibit by its reflective power, or by the formation of a correct image, what we cannot otherwise perceive by the eye, and thus a person is enabled to discover whatever is disordered or unsuitable in his outward appearance. What a mirror is for the discovery of deficiencies or stains upon the countenance, the "Word of truth" is for the discovery of deficiencies and stains in the heart and conduct, and he who carefully listens to the statements of that "Word," can no more fail to have a correct image of his spiritual condition brought before him, than he who looks into a mirror can fail to behold the similitude of his outward mum tie must see himself as a moral being, represented in all the reality of truth. We may take the case of a licentious profligate, a man within whose bosom there is nothing to be found bearing any resemblance to moral far less to religious principle. He is the slave of his passions, and following no dictate but that of corrupt inclination, he lives as far from God and from the recognition of His authority as it is possible for a human being to do. Now, although it may not be a common thing that such victims to debased feeling and profligate habits should place themselves within the hearing of the "Word of truth," yet we know that sometimes they do hear the gospel proclaimed; and when this is the case how can they escape from seeing the picture of their own character which it unfolds? If they listen with any degree of attention while it describes the features and traces the descending footsteps of those who have thrown off all regard for Divine authority, and all deference to human opinion; if they hear it testifying of them that the "imaginations of the thoughts of their heart are only evil, and that continually"; that "they drink up iniquity like water"; that "being past feeling, they have given themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness; — that they sport themselves with their own deceivings, having eyes full of adultery, and that cannot cease from sin, beguiling unstable souls, being cursed children, which have forsaken the right way, and gone astray"; — and that "though they know the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, they not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them," — if, I say, they hear "the Word of truth" thus testifying of the conduct and progress of those that have abandoned themselves to the ways of vice, can they fail to perceive that it is just describing themselves? But, again, in illustration of the power of the gospel to discover their true character to those who listen with any attention to its declarations, we may contemplate another and a very different class of persons, when brought under its reflective influence; I mean those who may be characterised as men of virtue without godliness-men who are distinguished by a strict regard to the morality of the world, and are ready to exult in the self-righteous thought that, as they stand well with their fellow-men, they cannot have much to dread from God. They are, doubtless, endowed with many amiable and attractive qualities. They can compare themselves, without suffering from the comparison, with many around them. And, in the pride of their spirit, they are often ready to declare that, no stain has darkened their reputation; they may be found, after a self-complacent view of their fancied attainment, virtually exclaiming, "What lack we yet?" With all these lofty claims, however, to moral excellence, they may yet be chargeable by the God that made and that sustains them, with an alienation of heart from Him and His authority, no less guilty than that of the licentious profligate; and when the question comes to be put to each of them, "What hast thou done unto Me?" they may every one be as little able to give a satisfactory reply as the most ungodly of our rebellious species; and thus there may be, in the sight of a holy and heart-searching Judge, chargeable against them, deficiencies of as fatal a nature as those with which the characters of the most abandoned are degraded and deformed. Now, when the gospel is proclaimed to such persons, if they duly consider what it says, it will not fail to reveal to them a faithful picture of their condition before God, and to summon up before them a lively representation of blemishes from which they perhaps imagined themselves to be free. When it brings within their hearing those distinctions which it constantly recognises between the decencies and observances of mere outward morality, or the offspring of natural disposition, and the fruits of that "pure and undefiled religion" which has had its vital principle imparted in a renewed and sanctified heart — when, for instance, it lays before them the history of the young man whose amiable deportment and external conduct were such as to call forth an expression of the Saviour's kindness towards him, but whose love to the world and its possessions was such as to exhibit the weakness and imperfection of his character, they must see a very obvious likeness of themselves; and when the Divine law, in all its extent and spirituality, is brought to their notice, must they not feel that their best and most beauteous moralities are sadly defective — that the pride with which they had often contemplated themselves on account of their fancied virtues, though it might find food for itself in their superiority to many around them, should be converted into the deepest humility when they compare themselves with the standard of God's holy law, and that, though from the mere dictates of their own nature they have been prompted to benevolence, and high-minded honesty, and upright dealing, they never knew the love of God to operate as a principle of action upon their minds? Let us advert to another illustration of the detecting power of the Word of truth, which is to be seen in its bearing upon the hypocritical formalist. He makes a fair, sometimes a bold, sometimes a most flaming profession. Whatever homage he can pay with the lip, none more ready to give it than he; whatever sacrifices he can offer with the outward man, none more forward" to present them than he. But all the feelings of his heart contradict and belie the intended meaning of such offerings. Now, when the "Word of truth "falls upon the ears of such persons, like the licentious profligate and the man of mere worldly virtue, they will be made to feel that it exhibits a faithful image of their moral condition, detects the lurking hypocrisy of their hearts, and holds them up to their own contemplation, under the ignominious aspect of worthless pretenders and paltry formalists. When they hear its reiterated references to those who offer God the service of the body while "their hearts are far from Him"; who present "vails oblations, but delight not in obeying the voice of the Lord; "who have a "form of godliness, but deny the power thereof"; who are, to all human appearance, "fair and honest," while their inward man is defiled with wickedness and inhabited by "vain thoughts"; can they fail to see that it truly represents their own likeness, and displays before their mind's eye, in vivid but faithful delineation, those secret imaginations and hidden artifices which they thought were confined to their own knowledge? When they are directed in their thoughts to our Lord's description of the Pharisees, who "for a pretence made long prayers," who "made clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but were within full of extortion and excess"; and who, while "they appeared outwardly righteous unto men, were within full of iniquity and hypocrisy," is it possible for them to escape from the impression that they are themselves virtually described? I might adduce other and not less striking illustrations of the description which, in our text, is figuratively afforded of the "Word of truth." It would be no difficult matter, indeed, to show that it is a mirror in which every variety and class of character are exhibited in their moral features; or, in a word, that no man can attentively look into it without feeling that its reflective power is such as to present him to himself, in the actual reality of his spiritual condition, without the least exaggeration in the blemishes or in the virtues that may attach to him. In conclusion, I would put the question to each of you, — To what purpose have you heard the gospel? If you have any wish to be freed from those defects which you may see in your character; if you have any wish to be prepared for appearing in the presence of unspotted holiness, without those stains which must render you subject to its consuming indignation, it behoves you to take a steady and impartial view of yourselves in the mirror of the gospel, and to resolve, in the faithful application of the means which are therein prescribed, that you may be thoroughly purified, and furnished with every ornament of the Christian character.

(Jas. Noble, M. A.)

There is a leading idea in each of the verses thus read to you; and because these ideas are perhaps more striking when taken together, than when detached the one from the other, we may solicit your attention to the whole of this passage of Scripture, rather than to either of its separate parts. The ideas are the following: the first, that the Word of revelation generally serves as a mirror or a glass, in which the natural man may see himself imaged; the second, that he will be nothing advantaged by this reflexion of his features if it do not make him active in the correcting and amending; the third, that to him who is not only a hearer, but a doer, revelation becomes a "perfect law of liberty."

I. Now there are, as you will remember, expressions in Scripture which set before us THE WHOLE WORK, WHETHER OF CREATION OR REDEMPTION, AS ONE VAST MIRROR, upon which we must gaze if we would learn the great truths which have to do with the nature of our God. Thus St. Paul, wishing to contrast our present with our future condition, says to the Corinthians, "Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face." He means, as it would seem, that here we have no direct vision; we see only as in a mirror — that is, by reflected rays — creation and redemption both imaging Deity, but neither our faculties nor our opportunities permitting us to look upon God face to face. And there is no doubt that in this sense the Word of God also is a mirror. God may be said to glass Himself in its pages; and when we look on those pages, they give back to us with greater clearness than any other reflector the attributes and perfections of our invisible Maker. But it cannot be in this sense that St. James represents the Word as a mirror; it is as showing man himself, and not as showing him God, that revelation is here likened to a glass. The supposition is that a man may place himself morally before the Bible, even as he may naturally before some polished surface, and learn with as much accuracy what are his lineaments or his features. And we may suppose that St. James refers to the same power in the Bible, as is referred to by St. Paul, when he describes himself and his fellow-workers in the ministry as "not walking in craftiness, nor handling the Word of God deceitfully, but by manifestation of the truth commending themselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God." And this is what, probably, you must have often heard of as the self-evidencing power of Scripture — the power which there is in the contents of the Bible to act as the credentials of the Bible; so that if all external witness were swept away, revelation might yet so vindicate its pretensions as to place beyond doubt its being a message from God. And this self-evidencing power of Scripture goes mainly on this fact — that there is such a correspondence between what we read in the Bible and what we find in ourselves, as is not to be accounted for except on the supposition that He who wrote the Book had a superhuman acquaintance with the heart. The point is .here passed, in which we can allow the sufficiency of human sagacity; the acquaintance is too profound, too extensive, too accurate, to be measured by mere native powers, and our only way of accounting for the marvellous disclosure, which exhibits to us ourselves — every thought being laid bare, every motion of the will, every remonstrance of the conscience, every conflict between duty and inclination — our only way is by referring the document to more than human authorship. And is there any one of you utterly unaware of this power in Scripture to shadow himself? is there any one of you who has read so little of the Bible, and read it with so little attention, that he has not found his own case described — described with so surprising an accuracy that he feels as though he himself had sat for the portrait? When Scripture insists on the radical corruption of the heart, in its native enmity and deceitfulness, is there any one of us who must not allow that the affirmations in every way hold good — just supposing his own heart to be that of which the affirmations are made? And when, over and above these more general statements, the Bible descends into particulars — when it speaks of the proneness of men to prefer a transient good to an enduring, the objects of sight, however inconsiderable, to those of faith, however magnificent — when it mentions the subterfuges, the excuses of those whom conscience disquiets — when it shows the vain hopes, the false theories, the lying visions, with which men suffer themselves to be cheated, or rather with which they cheat themselves — who is there among us who will venture to deny that the representation tallies most nicely either with what he is or with what he was — with what he is if he have never repented or sought the forgiveness of sin, with what he was if his nature have been renewed by the operation of God's Spirit?

II. We now turn to the second great truth presented in the passage which is under review; THE TRUTH THAT WE SHALL BE NOTHING ADVANTAGED BY THIS REFLECTING POWER OF THE WORD, UNLESS WE SET OURSELVES TO THE ACTING ON ITS DISCLOSURES. St. James, as we before pointed out to you, is speaking of a man who is a hearer only, and not also a doer of the Word. He likens such a man to one, who "having beheld his natural face in a glass, goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was." Are there not many of you who would be ready to own that sermons have occasionally had on them a mighty and almost overcoming effect; so that they have felt constrained to give their full assent to truths uttered in their hearing, though those truths have convinced them of heinous offences, and proved them placed in terrible danger? It is not that no impression has been made; it is not that the preacher's strength has been wholly thrown away, and that there has been no response to his statements in the breasts of those by whom he has been surrounded; it is rather that the hearers have taken no pains to deepen and make permanent the impressions which the preaching has made; nay, perhaps in many cases, that t-hey have actually taken pains to obliterate those impressions, dreading the sacrifices which they must make if resolved to be religious, and therefore crushing the convictions which would have led them to repentance. It is that they have gone from the church into the world, with the voice of the preacher yet ringing in their ears, and so that voice has been drowned in the whirl of business, or in the sounds of pleasure.

III. But now turn, lastly, to the third truth presented by the passage which forms our subject of discourse. This is the truth — THAT BY SUBMITTING IMPLICITLY TO WHAT IS TAUGHT US BY GOD'S WORD, WE SHALL FIND THAT IT BECOMES TO US A "PERFECT LAW OF LIBERTY." There has been no such nurse of freedom as the Christian religion. The principles which that religion expounds and enforces — the accuracy with which it defines the province and prerogatives of rulers and the duties of subjects — the rigour with which it denounces every form of injustice, enjoins benevolence, and asserts the brotherhood of man with man — these have caused it to become, though it professes not to interfere with civil institutions, the great extirpator of oppression, the great founder and the great guardian of all that deserves to be called liberty. And this beautiful word "liberty" may be prostituted and abused; it may be bandied about by venal statesmen or turbulent demagogues; but liberty and Christianity are synonymous terms, as are slavery and irreligion. He who would guide a nation to freedom, must take the Bible as his statute-book: and to attack its vices is the direct way to loosen its chains. They little know, who brawl about liberty and show contempt for Christianity, how ignorant they show themselves of the very essence and life of that which they profess to idolise and pursue. God guard us from the liberty which would be enjoined when Christianity was prostrate! It would be near akin to that liberty of which we read in the book of Jeremiah. "Behold, I proclaim a liberty for you, saith the Lord" — a liberty "to the sword, to the pestilence, and to the famine." But it is rather of an individual, than of a nation, that the apostle speaks in our text. And who, we may well ask, but the true Christian — the doer as well as the hearer of the Word — deserves to be accounted free? Is a man free, just because there are no fetters on his limbs, and he is not the inmate of a prison? There are fetters of the spirit; there are mental chains forged of such material, and fastened with such strength, that he who wears them may sit upon a throne, and be unspeakably more a bondsman than many a wretched thing that grinds in a dungeon. What think ye of the fetters of bad habits? What think ye of the chains of indulged lusts? What think ye of the slavery of sin? The drunkard, who cannot resist the craving for the wine — know ye a more thorough captive? The covetous man, who toils night and day for wealth — what is he but a slave? The sensual man, the ambitious man, the worldly man — those who, in spite of the remonstrances of conscience, cannot break away from their enthralments. But whoso looketh into Scripture and continueth therein, finds himself gradually delivered from all this oppression and all this thraldom. "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." If it be not the liberty of him who has no opponent, no tempter, it is the liberty of him who has broken the yoke, and who is ever on the watch that it may never be again fastened round his neck. It is not indeed to our lusts that Christianity proclaims liberty, nor to our natural inclinations and propensities; against these it proclaims war — a war of extermination; but on this very account it is that we declare it brings liberty to man. These lusts, these inclinations, are the taskmasters of man; and until grace gain the ascendency, and give the spirit dominion over the flesh, man is literally in bondage to himself — the lowest of slaves, because he does not hate slavery. And in respect of fears, the bondage is too apparent to admit of debate. But let the Spirit of God apply these blessed words to his heart, "There is now therefore no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus," and he casts off his chains and springs from his dungeon. Glorious liberty! Who would not long to be the freed man, by thus being the servant of Jehovah?

(H. Melvill, B. D.)

I. Here is a summary of THE CHARACTERISTICS OF GOD'S ROYAL WORD. It is brought before us in its authority, in its sufficiency, and in its freedom.

1. It is, in the first place, a law. It is not an opinion amenable to the caprice of the individual, to be obeyed or to be ignored at the bidding of an arbitrary will. It is a law, a supreme and an authoritative obligation issued by one who has a right to claim unquestioning obedience, and enforced by sanctions which it were madness to disregard. Herein does the teaching of Christ, the great Gospel Lawgiver, differ largely from the teaching of all others. He does not argue, He pronounces; He does not suggest, He commands. His words are veiled in no confusion and are prefaced by no apology. They are not opinions to be canvassed, perhaps refuted, but eternal truths, principles of conduct and of action, marching at once in their unconscious royalty to the lordship of the inner man. And with like majesty does the Word of God, our corn-men and precious Bible, present itself as a claimant for the sovereignty of the human mind. It is the province of your intellect to examine its evidence, to elicit its hidden meanings. Then your conscience should acknowledge its supremacy, and then your hearts, with loyal affections, should apply its truths and reduce them into the practice of the life.

2. I observe, secondly, this Word is presented to us not only in its authority, but in its sufficiency — it is a "perfect law," given originally in fragments: it is presented now as the completed canon of Jehovah's will, the last, sufficient, everlasting message of God's love to man. It is a perfect law — then it can be followed by no supplement. Perfect — then it can be superseded by no supplement. Perfect — then it can be ignored by no school of modern illuminators. Coming from a holy God, its morality is spotless. Issuing from the Just One, its decisions are equitable. It is a sufficient revelation. It is enough; not as if God had begun to build and was not able to finish His work.

3. And then, thirdly, I observe, the Word is presented to us not only in its authority, and in its sufficiency, but also in its freedom. It is a "perfect law of liberty." it has been well observed that the highest liberty is a self-imposed restraint. The lark enjoys as rare a sense of freedom when it nestles in the tuft of grass as when it trills its sky-song in the visionless heights. We do not wonder that James, and Peter, and Jude, so delighted to call themselves servants, or, as the word might be with equal accuracy rendered, "slaves" of the Lord Jesus; that Christ Himself should have presented it as the condition of Christian discipleship; that we should take His yoke upon us, which is easy; or that the heart, in the fulness of its new experience, should exultingly exclaim — "Thy service is perfect freedom." And this is the liberty promised by the perfect law. And this inner freedom extends to all needs, and is poured over every department and every faculty of a man.

4. And this law of liberty is perpetual. It perpetuates this freedom. "There is now, therefore, no condemnation," &c. Such is the glorious freedom conferred by this law of liberty upon every believing soul. It is a freedom which the universe cannot parallel. There is a magic, you know, in the very name of liberty to which every heart re-spends. Poets have sung its praises; painters have immortalised its heroes upon canvas, and sculptors upon marble; patriots have looked proudly to heaven from its death-beds: its associations have glorified the commonest and least interesting spots of earth into holy shrines beaten with the pilgrim-feet of the world. The Theropylae of the world's liberties; the Marathon of its triumph; the flat marsh upon the banks of the Thames where the charter of our freedom was wrung from a monarch's dastard soul; that field upon the Belgian plains which has grown up into, the Waterloo of a nation's prowess — these flush our cheek, brighten our eye, and send the blood pulsing through our veins. But political liberty, dearly as we love it, though it has entailed sacrifice of blood and treasure, exerts no liberating influence upon the inner man, and can benefit any individual only for a few brief and fleeting years. But moral freedom is gained with no such price. We wade through no slaughtered hosts to reach it. Every individual is a partaker of its benefits. It dies not with the death of time; it is not an earthly boon or charter of victories that have turned tribunes into autocrats of a mob. There is no law of liberty here. It is there, if you choose to look for it, where frail and erring men — men of like passions with yourselves — have won, by the grace of God, the victory over their own hearts and passions, have pressed on in holiness of life and philanthropic service, resulting in blessing, and, at last, in the recompense of the conqueror's heaven.

II. THE HEARERS OF THE WORD. If there be such a Word, so authoritative, so perfect, so free, and if that Word be the gospel which is preached unto you, there is a very solemn obligation resting upon you to take heed how ye hear. Those who fulfil this duty aright will not be forgetful hearers, to whom the truth comes in monotonous accents, as the dull sound of apology.

(W. M. Punshon, D. D.)

I. A DIVINE DESCRIPTION OF THE GOSPEL.

1. A law. Not a mere set of propositions, theories, doctrines, which need not concern us; but a rule of life and conduct.

2. A perfect law.

(1)Made by the only and absolute Sovereign of mankind.

(2)Based upon a perfect knowledge of man's entire nature, conditions, and relationships in every place and time.

(3)Adapted to promote the highest ends of law in every way perfectly.

3. A law of liberty.

(1)It accepts only willing obedience.

(2)Submission to it brings liberty from —

(a)guilt;

(b)fear,

(c)sinful habits and propensities,

(d)the everlasting consequences of past (forgiven) transgressions.

II. MAN'S DUTY TO THE GOSPEL.

1. Careful personal investigation.

2. Retention of the truth thus learned.

3. Continual obedience.

III. THE BLESSINGS OF THE GOSPEL.

1. Approval of conscience.

2. Assurance of Divine favour.

3. The delight of conscious moral progress.

4. The joys of usefulness.

(Systematic Bible Teacher.)

I. A PARTICULAR DESIGNATION GIVES TO THE GOSPEL. Modern legislation is very largely a history of repeal — the repeal of unjust laws; and this will go on until all inequalities and injustice are swept away. The gospel is perfect. You cannot improve it.

II. A PARTICULAR CONDUCT TOWARD THE GOSPEL DESCRIBED. A persistent childlike look of a trustful obedient child.

III. A PARTICULAR ASSURANCE made to him who maintains that conduct toward the gospel. "Virtue is its own reward," so is obedience in this case.

(J. Lewis.)

I. THE GOSPEL IS A LAW. The gospel may be called a law, because everything that concurreth to the right constitution and making of a law is found in the gospel; as —

1. Equity. All precepts of the gospel are just and equitable (Romans 7:12).

2. Promulgation, which is the life and form of a law (Mark 16:15; Isaiah 61:1).

3. The author, God; who has a right to prescribe to the creature (1 Timothy 1:11).

4. The end, public good; and the end of the gospel is salvation (Romans 1:16).

5. By this law we must walk (Galatians 6:16; Isaiah 8:20; Romans 2:16).

II. A LAW OF LIBERTY.

1. Because it teacheth the way to true liberty (John 8:36; Romans 6:18).

2. The bond of obedience, that is laid on us in the gospel, is perfect freedom.

(1)The matter. Duty is the greatest liberty, and sin the greatest bondage (Psalm 119:45, 2 Peter 2:19).

(2)We do it upon free principles (Romans 12:1; Titus 2:12).

(3)We have the assistance of a free Spirit (Psalm 51:12).

(4)We do it in a free state (Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:31; Luke 1:74).

III. A PERFECT LAW OF LIBERTY.

1. When compared with the law of Moses (Hebrews 10:1, 2).

2. It directs us to the greatest perfection (1 John 4:18).

3. Because it is pure, free from error (Psalm 119:140). And, lastly, because it maketh perfect (Psalm 19:7).

IV. "WHOSO LOOKETH."

1. Deepness of meditation (Psalm 119:97).

2. Diligence of inquiry (Proverbs 2:3, 4).

3. Liveliness of impression (2 Corinthians 3:18). As Moses's face shone by talking with God; and we, by conversing with the Word, carry away the beauty and glory of it in our spirits.

V. AND CONTINUETH THEREIN; i.e. persevereth (John 8:31; 2 John 9). He being not a forgetful hearer, but remembereth, so as to reduce to practice; vers. 23, 24. (Proverbs 4:20, 21; Luke 2:19); a doer of the work. The gospel was not ordained only for speculation (Matthew 3:8; John 6:29; Hebrews 6:10). The apostle speaks of "a form of knowledge" (Romans 2:20). Let not the tree of knowledge deprive us of the tree of life. Work the works of God: faith is our work, repentance our business, and the life of love and praise our duty. "This man shall be blessed in his deed," alluding to Psalm 1:3; in his deed, net for it (Psalm 19:11). He shall be blessed here with peace (Galatians 6:16), and hereafter with eternal happiness (Revelation 22:14).

(T. Hannam.)

"Whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty." A law must in the first instance be known and understood. It is by means either of the eye or the ear; by examining it for ourselves, or by receiving an account of it from the testimony of others. Both of these are alluded to in our text. The man whom the apostle pronounces "blessed" is he who "looketh into the perfect law of liberty." He does not merely look at it; he looks into it. The word is expressive of fixed, earnest, and scrutinising inspection. Such is the disposition of the Christian inquirer, looking into the perfect law of liberty. He does not take matters on trust, or at second-hand. It is not enough that he has been instructed in the truths of the gospel in his youth by parents and others. He must look into it with his own eyes, and form a judgment of it from personal observation. Nor is he satisfied with a superficial inspection, or a general survey: He must look into it particularly — embracing in his inquiry every doctrine it reveals, every precept it recommends, and every ordinance it appoints; considering the nature and importance of each separately, estimating the evidence and excellence of the whole collectively. He gives it not a mere passing glance, but considers it with a steady, deliberate attention; reflecting on it calmly, dispassionately, with personal application and fervent prayer. It discloses to him the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ: it unfolds the plan of redeeming mercy; opens up the way of reconciliation; makes manifest the privileges of the people of God, both in a state of grace, and in the kingdom of glory. He looks into them not merely with the bodily eye, but with the eye of faith, realising their truth, persuaded of their necessity, continually discovering more and more of their grandeur, contemplating them with unfeigned growing delight; and by each new discovery animated to pursue his researches, until, in the light of eternity dissipating every shade of ignorance and error, he shall in God's light see light, and know even as he is known. "A hearer" of it, and attends to the preaching of the Word, as well as the reading of it. I might enumerate classes of hearers in great variety, all of them equally in error, but time does not permit, nor does the subject call for it. Our text contains a description that includes them all. They are all "forgetful" hearers. They all forget the very thing which they should be most concerned to remember; and that is, their own personal interest in what they hear. They forget that their design in hearing should be the same with God's design in speaking, and that is, that the heart may be made better. What they hear, however, makes no lasting or practical impression. But the man whom the apostle declares to be blessed, is "not a forgetful hearer." He listens with deep attention, having both the understanding, the conscience, and the heart in exercise. He mingles faith with what he hears. Above all, he endeavours to follow up the design, and to secure the profit of hearing, by a course of devoted obedience. For true religion is altogether a practical thing. In this view, the apostle here contemplates it. The man whom he pronounces "blessed," is, in opposition to the "forgetful hearer." "A doer of the work." It is observable that he says nothing of believing, and speaks only of doing. Nor was it necessary that he should. The "doer of the work" must, in the first instance, be a believer of the Word. The fountain must be cleansed that her streams may be pure. The tree must be made good that the fruit may be good. But as principle must precede, so it will produce practice. The believer, in obedience to the impulses of his renewed nature, will also become a doer. The man who from right principles yields obedience to any one precept of the law, will, under the impulse of the same principles, yield obedience to every other precept; will resist sin in all its forms, and pay a regard to duty in all its branches. What he ought to be at any time, he desires and endeavours to be at all times. To complete the description of the man whom he pronounces "blessed," the apostle includes this thought. It is added, that he "continueth therein." Of what use are momentary impulses and superficial impressions? There is a goodness which promises fair, but it soon vanishes, like the morning cloud and the early dew. The apostle has said of him, in most emphatic language, "This man shall be blessed in his deed." This blessedness, though principally future, is partly present. He is even now blessed with an assured confidence, he is blessed with an approving conscience, which bears testimony to the sincerity of his profession, or the genuineness of his character, and holding out to him the prospect of a gracious reception, and a triumphant acquittal, at the tribunal of his Judge. He is blessed with a good hope, which rests on the surest foundation, is warranted by the clearest evidence. He is blessed with a contented mind, satisfied with the dealings of his heavenly Father, thankful for His mercies, patient under His chastisements. The consummation of blessedness is reserved for the just made perfect, who Shall suffer neither the misery of desire ungratified, nor the sickness of hope deferred; who shall drink deep in the river of pleasures, and be replenished with that fulness of joy which is at God's right hand for evermore.

(James Barr, D. D.)

I. What is "THE LAW — THE PERFECT LAW OF LIBERTY"? This question I have no hesitation in answering. It is the gospel. And, as a designation of the gospel, it is full of encouragement.

1. In the first place, the gospel is a law. Let none be alarmed. Instead of there being anything fearful in this view of it, there is everything that is fitted to impart the surest confidence to our souls. Were it not a law, no such confidence could be ours. It is as much the law, or revealed will of God, that man the sinner should be justified by faith, as it was that man the innocent should be justified by works. The way of deliverance from the law's curse has the same authority as the law itself, and the law's sanction.

2. In the second place, the gospel is a law, as coming with the full force of a Divine command. And strange that sinners should refuse submission to it! — strange that they should not embrace it with gratitude and joy! — for it is "the law of liberty." Now, in the terms of prophetic intimation, the gospel proclaims, with the full authority of the Supreme Lawgiver, "liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound": and various are the descriptions of liberty which it imparts. And it is "the perfect law of liberty." All that is Divine is perfect. All God's doings, in creation, in providence, and in redemption, are "perfect."This "law of liberty" is "perfect," in two senses: —

1. It is perfect, in regard to the ground of freedom which it reveals. That ground is perfect, as it perfectly provides for the unsullied glory of all the attributes of God; as it perfectly answers the demands of His pure and holy law; and as it perfectly secures the principles of His moral government, and the stability of His throne.

2. It is perfect also in its effect on the conscience and on the heart. In this respect, it stands in contrast with the institutes of the Mosaic dispensation; which is termed "a yoke of bondage," "a yoke," says Peter, "which neither we nor our fathers were able to bear."

II. THE DUTY OF LOOKING INTO THIS LAW: "Whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth." — that is, I apprehend, continueth looking. There is apparently an intended contrast between the transient and careless "beholding of the natural face in a glass" referred to in the preceding verses. The "looking" is not, in this case, cursory and forgetful, but steady, and constant, and mindful. The full contents of "the law of liberty' — "the glorious gospel of the blessed God" — are full of sublimity and interest, in all the manifestations they make of the Divine Being, and of His relations to His creatures. They are inexhaustible. The duty incumbent upon us, then, is that of close, constant, unwearied contemplation.

III. THE INFLUENCE OF THIS LOOKING UPON THE CHARACTER: "Whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work." How is this? Mere looking is not doing. Contemplation is not action. No; but doing is the result of looking; action of contemplation. The contemplation will increase faith: and the faith will "work by love"; producing, by the efficacy of what God reveals, a growing conformity to what God enjoins. The effect, indeed, may be traced to two principles — that of fear, as well as that of love. The more we contemplate the wonders of Christ's work in the gospel, the more must we see of the purity, the perfection, and the irrepealable sanction of the Divine law — of which the transgression by men mingled for Him the inexplicably bitter cup of mediatorial suffering; and, as inseparable from this, the holiness, the justice, the truth, and the avenging judicial jealousy of the Lawgiver: and the more must we be filled with a salutary fear of offending, and so of incurring His displeasure, who has thus testified how infinitely hateful in His sight all sin is. Then, on the other hand, "the love of God," and "the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ," so marvellously discovered in the gospel — "in the law of liberty" — cannot fail, the more closely they are contemplated, to animate the great principle of all godly practice — the principle of love — of love at once complacential and grateful — love for what God is, and love for what God hath done, delightfully harmonising, and blending into one irresistible impulsive affection — the moving power of active and devoted service.

IV. THE HAPPINESS THENCE RESULTING: "This man shall be blessed in his deed." In holy obedience to God's will — in the filial and free service of this Divine Master — there is true happiness; happiness with which "a stranger cannot intermeddle"; which no man can take from its blessed possessor. He is "blessed in his deed." Whatever enjoyment he might have in the contemplation, there could be no blessing upon him from God, without the result of the contemplation the holy practice. He enjoys subdued and regulated desires and affections; and has thus peace within. He has the inward consciousness of love to God and love to men; and thus a participation in the blessedness of the Divine benevolence.

(R. Wardlaw, D. D.)

"Law" — merely "law" — "law" only — is a bondage harsh and severe. "Liberty" alone, and unguarded, passes into licentiousness, runs riot, and becomes tyranny. "Law" needs to be sweetened by "liberty," and" liberty" is no "liberty" without the fences of law. St. James strikingly blends them, and finds the blending where only it exists — in God's Word: "The perfect law of liberty." It is just, what all good legislation has as its aim: "Law" which is no less than "liberty," and "liberty" which is compatible with "law." But what human legislation has ever yet reached it? It would not be too much to say that the Christian religion is the only code in the whole world which ever has united, or can perfectly unite, those two things, so as to make them really one. See how it is in God's method. And, first, we look at the "liberty." Every man who becomes a real Christian becomes a free man: and the more he is a Christian the more he is free. The date and the measure of his Christianity are also the date and measure of his "liberty." For, as soon as ever we really know Christ, and come to Christ, and believe in Christ, our sins are all forgiven. Therefore we are free from our past. And then, the Christian now, by his union with Christ, made, in a higher sense than before, a child of God, is undertaken for in everything: so that he need have no anxiety about what is coming. Every needful thing is covenanted to him for time and eternity: therefore that man is free from his future — he is liberated from the bonds of care. And the "liberty" is not only thus of a negative character. He is free, every moment of his life he is free, to go to the throne of God "by a new and living way"; to his own God, and to open there his whole heart and to tell Him everything; and have the closest communion with Him. And then to listen for "still small voices" which shall speak back to him. He is free to claim every promise. He is free to lay his hand of faith upon the Cross, and all that Cross has purchased, and say, "It is mine!" He is a freed man of the heavenly city, free, as a child of God is free of his Father's house. To him the doors of glory are flung wide open! And he is free to mingle with the saints; to sit down at the feast; to join in the song; free, to the very feet of Jesus; to know as he is known, and love as he is loved. That is "liberty!" Now see the law — "the perfect law of liberty." God has given, since the creation, four laws to man; but only one of the four can be rightly called a "law of liberty." The original "law" of all was the law of conscience, a law which if man had not fallen would have been, we must believe, a perfect guide. But as man is now, conscience is only "law" in so far as it is the reflection of other laws which God has given us. Secondly, there was a "law" given to Adam and Eve in Paradise. This was a law of prohibition. Therefore it was not a "law of liberty." The next "law" which God gave was the law enacted from Mount Sinai. But neither was this a law of liberty. Almost the whole of it is negative; it tells what we are not to do: and negatives can never be liberty. Fourthly, came the law of the Lord Jesus Christ. See what is the basis and the character of that fourth law. Every other law had failed; no man did keep it, or could keep it. If a man's eternal happiness depended upon any law which could be given, no man, from Adam to the latest man, could have fulfilled the condition. Christ saw that, and He came, and He Himself fulfilled all the law, to the minutest point. He carried out the whole mind of God. He fulfilled it as a Representative Man, that His fulfilment might be our fulfilment. And so God accepted it. What, then, is our "law"? Love, love, love for a law which has been kept for us. It is the strictest law that was ever made on earth. It binds every thought, every moment: but it has no shackles. It is more than voluntary: it is happy, quite happy — the only thing that is happy and makes everything else happy. It is free, quite free — the only thing that is tree and makes everything else free. It is the outcome of the heart. It is the law of angels. It is the law of the saints in heaven. It is the law of love; and the law of love is "the law of liberty."

(James Vaughan, M. A.)

I. THE OBJECT.

1. The gospel, therefore, has all the qualities and characteristics of a Divine legislation.

(1)A law is the mandate of a superior, who is supposed to possess judicial authority.

(2)A law is supposed to be founded in equity; and it is assumed that its requirements and exactions are such as justice cud reason bind its subjects to observe.

(3)A law is established for the public good, and is beneficial in its operations.

(4)A law must be promulgated or made known to those who are under it.

(5)A law has certain punishments annexed to the violation of its institution.

2. This system of religious truth, which we designate the gospel, is emphatically a perfect law.

(1)It is perfect, having nothing either deficient or redundant.

(2)It is pure.

(3)It is perfect, contrasted with the ceremonial ritual of the Mosaic law.

3. The gospel is also a law of liberty.

(1)The gospel exhibits to us the privilege of liberty.

(2)The gospel exhibits the means necessary for the attainment of this liberty.

(3)The gospel is the instrument of liberty.

II. AN ACTION.

1. This action implies —

(1)Attention to the letter of the gospel.

(2)That it is our duty to search into its signification.

(3)It implies also a participation in the benefits of the gospel.

2. It is necessary that we not only look into "the perfect law of liberty," but that we continue therein.

(1)There must be a continuance in the possession of gospel privileges.

(2)Constant use of its ordinances.

(3)A constant exercise of gospel graces.

3. We now proceed to consider another branch of Christian duty" He being not a forgetful hearer."

(1)The man who is entitled to the blessedness of the text must be a hearer. Endeavour to cultivate an affection for the Word of God — it requires no labour to remember what we love. Let us meditate on its precepts, not only when we are in the house of God, but when we have returned to our several occupations (Psalm 119:97). That we may not be forgetful hearers, we must seek Divine assistance (John 14:26).

(2)In order to profit by what we hear, it is necessary that we reduce it to practice.

III. THE BENEFIT RESULTING FROM THE PERFORMANCE OF THIS DUTY. The reward here mentioned does not consist in the acquisition of worldly wealth, nor yet in freedom from trials or persecutions. If implies that his soul shall receive such a measure of the favour of God as shall enable him to find comfort and satisfaction in every dispensation of Providence. He shall be blessed with the approbation of God. He has also peace of conscience. He enjoys heavenly protection.

(R. Treffry.)

I. THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST, HERE COMPARED TO A LOOKING-GLASS, IS ALWAYS BEFORE THE EYES OF THE CHRISTIAN, AND IS CALLED "THE PERFECT LAW OF LIBERTY."

1. By this glass the soul discovers its filthiness (John 16:8, 9).

2. This points him to Christ for cleansing (1 John 1:7).

3. This shows him his perfect purification (Hebrews 10:14).

4. And freedom from condemnation (Romans 8:1).

5. Hence the gospel is called a law (Romans 3:27).

(1)It is perfect (Psalm 19:7).

(2)It is the law of liberty from sin, Satan, the world, death, hell; to love, know, enjoy, and believe in God (Romans 8:21).

II. THE BELIEVER'S CONDUCT IN RESPECT OF THIS GOSPEL LAW. He "looketh into it."

1. He has now spiritual eyes to see (Isaiah 29:18).

2. To look is to understand (1 Peter 1:12).

3. To look is to believe (Isaiah 45:22).

4. To look is to expect (Psalm 123:2).

5. By metaphorical usage, it denotes to look into by way of examination: and by implication, to comprehend. Hence, believers look —

(1)Diligently.

(2)Anxiously.

(3)Constantly.

(4)Prayerfully.

(5)And with faith in Christ.

III. His PERSEVERANCE AFTER DIVINE KNOWLEDGE. "And continueth therein."

1. God has pledged the grace of continuance (Jeremiah 32:40).

2. The believer desires to continue (Psalm 17:8).

3. The Scriptures exhort to continuance (Hebrews 13:9).

4. The gospel is a means of continuance (2 Corinthians 4:7).

5. Through this glass he continues to look unto Christ, and is saved (John 15:9).

IV. THE INDIVIDUAL CONSEQUENCE OF UNDERSTANDING THE GOSPEL. "He being not a forgetful hearer," &c.

1. Being conscious of his weak memory, he prays for the Spirit as his Remembrancer (John 14:26).

2. And of his wavering heart, that the gospel may be written therein (Psalm 119:80).

3. He is a doer of the work of faith and love (1 Thessalonians 1:3).

4. It is not man's, but God's work (John 6:38).

5. It is not performed by man's but God's strength (Philippians 4:13).

6. It is done to Christ's glory (Romans 11:36).

V. THE RESULTS OF BELIEVING THE GOSPEL. "This man shall be blessed in his deed."

1. Not for what he does, but in what he does (Psalm 19:11).

2. He shall be blessed providentially (Romans 8:28).

3. He shall be blessed graciously (Psalm 132:15).

4. It also denotes that the Christian shall be blessed with —

(1)A knowledge of himself.

(2)A knowledge of God.

(3)A knowledge of His Word.

(4)A knowledge of salvation.

(5)The fulfilment of the promises.

(6)Deliverance from enemies.

(7)Support in difficulties.

(8)Joy in death.

(9)Everlasting glory of both soul and body in the life to come.

(T. B. Baker.)

I. As A SYSTEM TO BE PROFOUNDLY STUDIED.

1. Its subjects have the highest claims to intellectual investigation.

2. Its method of revealing its subjects requires intellectual investigation.

3. Its blessed effects upon the heart can only be realised by intellectual investigation.

II. AS A LAW TO BE CONTINUALLY OBEYED. There are three things implied in a law — authority, publicity, and power of obedience. This law has the highest authority; is widely published; and all who bear it have the power to obey. The "law" of the gospel consists of two elements: the evangelical and the moral; the first, involving repentance towards God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ; and. the second, love to our neighbour and our God.

III. As A BLESSING TO BE NOW ENJOYED. "This man" is "blessed," not in his ideas, sentiments, talk, lint in his deeds; not for deeds in some future state, but in his deeds now.

(D. Thomas.)

I. THE NATURE AND PROPERTIES OF THIS LAW. The law by which Christ governs is "holy, just, and good." It unites the glory of the sovereign with the good of the subject.

II. MAN'S DUTY IN RELATION TO THIS LAW.

III. THIS ADVANTAGES RESULTING. "This man shall be blessed in his deed."

1. He shall have the approval of his own mind.

2. He shall be blessed with increasing light and knowledge.

3. That which he doeth shall prosper.

4. He shall be blessed after his deed. "God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love." "Every man shall be rewarded according to his works."

(Joseph Taylor.)

1. We should with all seriousness and earnestness apply ourselves to the knowledge of the gospel. Jewels do not lie upon the surface; you must get into the caverns and dark receptacles of the earth for them. No more do truths lie in the surface or outside of an expression. The beauty and glory of the Scriptures is within, and must be fetched out with much study and prayer. A glance cannot discover the worth of anything to us. He that doth but cast his eye upon a piece of embroidery cloth not discern the curiousness and the art of it. So to know Christ in the bulk doth not work half so kindly with us as when we search out the breadth, and the depth, and the length, the exact dimensions of His love to us.

2. The gospel is a law, according to which —(1) Your lives must be conformed (Galatians 6:16).(2) All controversies and doctrines must be decided (Isaiah 8:20).(3) Your estates must be judged (Romans 2:16).

3. The Word of God is a perfect law.(1) It maketh perfect.(2) It directeth us to the greatest perfection, to God blessed for ever, to the righteousness of Christ, to perfect communion with God in glory.(3) It concerneth the whole man, and hath a force upon the conscience: men go no further than outward obedience; but "the law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul" (Psalm 19:7). It is not a lame, defective rule; besides outward observances, there is somewhat for the soul.(4) It is a perfect law, because of the invariable tenor of it; it needeth not to be changed, but is always like itself: as we say, that is a perfect rule that needeth no amendment.(5) It is pure, and free from error. There are no laws of men but there are some blemish in them.(6) Because it is a sufficient rule. Christ hath been "faithful in all His house," in all the appointments of it. Whatever is necessary for knowledge, for regulating of life and worship, for confirmation of true doctrines, for confutation of false, it is all in the Word "That the man of God may be perfectly furnished unto every good work" (2 Timothy 3:17). Well, then —(1) Prize the Word. We love what is perfect.(2) Suffer nothing to be added to it: "Ye shall not add to the Word which I command you." So the whole Bible is concluded (Revelation 22:18).

4. That the gospel, or Word of God, is a "law of liberty." As it is a perfect, so it is a free law. So it is in divers respects.(1) Because it teacheth the way to true liberty, and freedom from sin, wrath, death (John 8:36). There is no state so free as that which we enjoy by the gospel.(2) The bond of obedience that is laid upon us is in deed and in truth a perfect freedom.For —

1. The matter itself of our obedience is freedom.

2. We do it upon free principles.

3. We have the help of a free Spirit.

4. We do it in a state of freedom. Well, then, consider whether you be under a law of liberty, yea or no. To this end —(1) Ask your souls, which is a bondage to you, sin or duty? When you do complain of the yoke, what is grievous to you, the commandment or the transgression?(2) When you do duty, what is the weight that poiseth your spirits to it? Your warrant is the command; but your poise and weight should be love.(3) What is your strength for duty — reason or the assistance of the free Spirit? When our dependence is on Christ, our tendency is to Him.(4) Would you have the work accepted for its own sake, or your persons accepted for Christ's side? It is an ill sign when a man's thoughts run more upon the property and quality of the work than upon the propriety and interest of his person.

5. From that "and abideth therein." This commendeth our knowledge of and affection to the Word, to con-throe in it. Hypocrites have a taste; some men's hearts burn under the ordinances, but all is lost and drowned in the world again "If ye continue ill the Word, then are ye My disciples indeed" (John 8:31). There may be good flashes for the present, but Christ saith, "If ye continue," if ye ripen them to good affections. So 2 John 9.

6. From that "being not a forgetful hearer." Helps to memory —(1) Attention. Men remember what they heed and regard.(2) Affection. An old man will not forget where he laid his bag of gold.(3) Application and appropriation of truths. We will remember that which concerns ourselves.(4) Meditation, and holy care to cover the Word, that it be not snatched from us by vain thoughts.(5) Observation of the accomplishment of truths.(6) Practise what you hear (Psalm 119:93).(7) Commit it to the Spirit's keeping and charge (John 14:26).

7. From that "he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer." Sin cometh for want of remembering: forgetful hearers are negligent (Psalm 103:18). There are some truths that are of a general use and benefit; others that serve for some cases and seasons. In the general, hide the whole Word in your heart, that ye may have a fresh truth to check sin in every temptation (Psalm 119:11). "Remember and forget not how thou provokedst the Lord thy God in the wilderness" (Deuteronomy 9:7). Labour thus to get a present ready memory, that will urge truths in the season when they do concern us.

8. From that "but a doer of the work." The Word layeth out work for us.

9. From that "shall be blessed in his deed." There is a blessedness annexed to the doing of the work of the Word; not for the work's sake, but out of the mercy of God. See, then, that you hear so that you come within the compass of the blessing; the blessing is usually pronounced at the time of your addresses to God in this worship.

(T. Manton.)

I. THE PERFECT LAW.

1. No word of the New Testament is given to us only in order that we may know truth, but all in order that we may do it. Every part of it palpitates with life, and is meant to regulate conduct.

2. In the very central fact of the gospel there lies the most stringent rule of life. Jesus Christ is the Pattern, and from those gentle lips which say, "If ye love Me keep My commandments," law sounds more imperatively than from all the thunder and trumpets of Sinai.

3. In the great act of redemption, which is the central fact of the New Testament revelation, there lies a law for conduct. God's love redeeming us is the revelation of what we ought to be, and the Cross, to which we look as the refuge from sin and condemnation, is also the pattern for the life of every believer.

4. This law is a perfect law. It not only tells us what to do, but it gives us power to do it: and that is what men want. The gospel brings power because it brings life.

II. THE DOERS OF THE PERFECT LAW.

1. Cultivate the habit of contemplating the central truths of the gospel, as the condition of receiving in vigour and fulness the life which obeys the commandment.

2. Cultivate this habit of reflective meditation upon the truths of the gospel, as giving you the pattern of duty in a concentrated and available form.

3. Cultivate the habit of meditating on the truths of the gospel, in order that the motives of conduct may be reinvigorated and strengthened.

4. The natural crown of all contemplation and knowledge is practical obedience.

III. THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE DOERS OF THE PERFECT LAW. Notice the in, not "after," not "as a reward for," but "blessed in his deed." "In keeping Thy commandments there is great reward." The rewards of this law are not arbitrarily bestowed, separately from the. act of obedience, by the will of the Judge, but the deeds of obedience automatically bring the blessedness. This world is not so constituted as that outward rewards certainly follow on inward goodness. Few of its prizes fall to the lot of the saints. But men are so constituted as that obedience is its own reward. There is no delight so deep and true as the delight of doing the will of Him whom we love. There is no blessedness like that of increasing communion with God, and the clearer perception of His will and mind which follow obedience as surely as the shadow does the sunshine. There is no blessedness like the glow of approving conscience, the reflection of the smile on Christ's face.

(A. Maclaren, D. D.)

To have the heart in close communion with the very Fountain of all good, and the will in harmony with the will of the best Beloved; to hear the Voice that is dearest of all, ever saying, "This is the way, walk ye in it"; to know" a spirit in my feet "impelling me upon that road; to know that all my petty deeds are made great, and my stained offerings hallowed by the altar on which they are honoured to lie and to feel fellowship with the Friend of my soul increased by obedience; this is to taste the keenest joy and good of life, and he who is thus "blessed in his deed" need never fear that that blessedness shall be taken away, nor sorrow though other joys be few and griefs be many.

(A. Maclaren, D. D.)

There are some who have not forgotten what manner of men they are, simply because they have never known it. From childhood they have been brought up with utterly false notions of themselves. Subservience and flattery may create convictions which take such firm hold of the mind that it can never get free from them; or constant engrossing work may so expend its forces as to leave none for introspection. But most of us at times have had little glimpses of ourselves. We have been worsted in some conflict; and although we do say to ourselves that the contest was not quite fair, yet there is the fact that we have been beaten, that perhaps we have been beaten often; and there does come the little suggestion of disappointment at times, that perhaps we are not quite so wise and competent as once we took ourselves surely to be. Or some friend whose affection for us determines that we shall not think, without protest, more highly of ourselves than we ought to think — called "the malice of kind people" — such a friend feels it a duty to tell us of some fault which "people talk about and think such a pity," and the spiteful truth, or lie "truth-tinged," gives us a side view of ourselves which we have never seen before, and we do not like it much. Or people talk about graces and gifts which so eminently distinguish others, when, to tell the truth, if anybody is remarkable for possessing them, certainly we thought we were. It was mortifying that nobody seemed to know it. Then, again, there have been moments when, as it were, the devil himself has entered into us, and, by the lurid light of his presence, we have for an instant seen inside some of the dark chambers of our heart, and looked upon the unclean spirits which hide there, yet ready at any moment to go forth on an evil work. Or the vision of some beauty or purity with which the trust of love had endowed us, but which we knew was not ours, or some voice of God which seemed to draw the soul up from its low dwelling-place to fairer regions, have made us dissatisfied with our. selves and shown us our grievous faults, and yet filled us with the hope of rising above them. Few men thoroughly know themselves, few men can look upon their characters as upon a geological map, with each stratum clearly marked, showing its colour and extent and fossil history, so that a man can stand before his mapped-out character and see what manner of man he is. If the dead are able to read their own memoirs, how startled at times they must be, how mortified, how indignant! How should one of us like to read these words about ourselves: "His life was one long series of tricks — mean and malicious. He was all stiletto and mask. To injure, to insult, to save himself from the consequences of injury and insult by lying and equivocating, was the habit of his life. Besides his faults of malignity, of fear, of interest, and of vanity, there were frauds which he committed for love of fraud alone"? Do you think the man about whom such words were written thought himself all that? Yet that is Macaulay's estimate of the character of Pope. But, as I have said, if we know ourselves very imperfectly, we do at times get glimpses of ourselves, and these transient glimpses should be turned to profit in new labour of caution and prayer. In the first place, I think we may say that there are those who not merely forget what manner of men they are, but who almost forget the fact that after all they are only men. Because circumstantially they differ from their fellows, they think that they belong altogether to another race. The vauntings of Nebuchadnezzar; the bursting ostentation of Herod Agrippa; the frenzy of some of the Roman emperors, whose deity compelled obsequious courtiers to shade their eyes; the punctilios of abject daily observance demanded by Louis XIV., these are types of moral dementia. But the same kind of improper forgetfulness extends through all ranks of life. It is sometimes seen in the mental arrogance of some powerful mind, which has nothing but scorn for the simple and the dull It is seen in that overweening sense of social superiority which is a fertile parent of bad manners, If, instead of this weak, foolish self-importance, we realised the Church's teaching, "All ye are brethren," the lot of the humbler and less fortunate of our fellow-men would be alleviated by the tender consideration and affectionate courtesy of those more highly favoured. But if we are in danger of forgetting that we, however highly placed, are only men, is it not a fact that we still more frequently forget that we are weak, faulty, and, indeed, too often fallen men? When one thinks of it, how few things can be more surprising than the readiness with which the mass of mankind are prepared to pass decisive judgment on anything which may come under their notice. They allot approval to this, and pronounce condemnation upon that, and have forgotten what manner of men they are — for-gotten that they possess nothing but inherited prejudices, or capricious partialities, or fugitive reflections from other minds on which to found their assumption. And, more especially, would not the hardness and intolerance which is shown by thousands towards certain Churches and certain parties be shamed away, if only those parties and Churches were thoroughly understood; and if only we all remembered how apparently accidental is our own position, that but for chance, as we say, we might have been that which now we denounce. But, again, if men forget their intellectual poverty, do they not oftener forget their moral depravity? Certainly there is a great deal of evil in the world, but it does not strike one that the mass of mankind are possessed by a sense of their own badness. Take those we severely blame in our tenants, servants, dependants. Have we not quite forgotten that something like the same thing is done by ourselves? Even a fraudulent bank director has sentenced a petty thief to gaol without blushing. The things we have done, and the things we should like to do if we dared — these tell us something of our nature, and should tinge all our judgments with pity. Or, take it again in the quiet scenes of worship, when the tumult of life is stilled, and we draw nigh in confession to the great throne of renewal. There are uttered the solemn words of confession, and on bended knees we join with the priest and make our self-revelation. But what is there we see when we pour forth the litauies of the penitent? Is it a line of hated foes through which we have passed, and by which we have been smitten on every hand, and does the new week show the same dark gauntlet to be run again? and is the cry, "Lord, have mercy upon us," our cry of conflict with recognised evils? Then the pangs of memory become a cross of salvation. Or, on the other hand, when we make our confession, is the only thing we have forgotten our faults and the ruin they are working, our moral diseases and the grave to which they are leading us; and the only thing we see — ourselves arrayed in Sunday graces? Oh, we forget the days of the week, each with its evil of temper, intention, and indulgence, its meanness, its frivolity, its cruelty; the scenes of home, and work, and reelection — the scenes which, if some one for whon we cared had seen, would have compelled an unaccustomed blush — all these we forget as we kneel and confess. Oh! it is time that we remembered ourselves, so would a humbler and more gentle spirit rule us. It is time that we remembered ourselves, so would a regenerating intention inspire us. And if we would indeed see ourselves, and, having seen, see that same self no more, we must "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world."

(W. Page Robert. , M. A.)

Christ did not make laws for His Church as Phaleas, in Aristotle, did for his commonwealth, who took good order for preventing of smaller faults, but left way enough to greater crimes. No; He struck down all, digged up all by the roots, both the cedars and the shrubs, both the greatest and the smallest. He laid His axe to the very beginnings of them, and would not let them breathe in a thought, nor be seen in a look. Nor did He, like that famous Grecian painter, begin His work, but die before He could perfect it. It were the greatest opposing of His will to think so. He left nothing imperfect, but sealed up His evangelical law, as well as His obedience, with a Consummatum est. What He began He ever finished. In a word, His will is most fully and perspicuously expressed in His gospel. But yet, to urge this home, this giveth no encouragement to condemn those means which God hath reached forth to direct us in our search. Though the lessons be plain, yet we see many times negligence cannot pass a line, when industry hath run over the whole book. Nor can We think that that truth which will make us perfect is of so easy purchase that it will be sown in Any ground, and, like the devil's tares, "grow up whilst we sleep" (Matthew 13:25).

(A. Farindon, B. D.)

Horace Bushnell speaks of a liberty above, and a liberty below the elbows; and Charles Kingsley says, "There are two freedoms — the false, where a man is free to do what he likes; the true, where a man is free to do what he ought."

James II., on his death-bed, thus addressed his son: — "There is no slavery like sin, and no liberty like God's service." Was not the dethroned monarch right?

(H. Melvill, B. D.)

I commend perseverance unto you as "a condition annexed to every virtue"; so Bernard — as "that which compasseth every good grace of God about as with a shield"; so Parisiensis — as "that gift of God which preserveth and safeguardeth all other virtues"; so . For though "every good gift and every perfect gift be from above" (ver. 17), though those virtues which beautify a Christian soul descend from heaven, and are the proper issues as it were from God Himself; yet perseverance is unica filia, saith Bernard, "his only daughter and heir," and carrieth away the crown (Matthew 24:13). He runneth in vain, who runneth not to the mark. He runneth in vain, that fainteth in the way, and obtaineth not. Whatsoever is before the end, is not the end, but a degree unto it. What is a seed, if it shoot forth and flourish, and then wither? What is a gourd, which groweth up in a night, and shadoweth us, and then is. smitten the next morning with a worm and perisheth? What is a fair morning to a tempestuous day? What is a Sabbath-day's journey to him who must walk to the end of his hopes? What is an hour in Paradise? What is a look, an approach towards heaven, and then to fall back and be lost for ever? A good beginning must be had, but let the end be like unto the beginning. Let not Jupiter's head be set upon the body of a tyrant; as the proverb is, "A young saint, and an old devil": but let holiness, like Joseph's coat of many colours, be made up of many virtues, but reaching down to the very feet, to our last days, our last hour, our last breath. For this is our eternity here on earth; et propter hoc aeternun consequimur aeternum: Our remaining in the gospel, our constant and never-ceasing obedience to it, is a Christian's eternity below; "and for this span of obedience, which is the mortal's eternity, we gain right and title to that real eternity of happiness in the highest Leavens." To remain in the gospel and to be blessed for ever, are the two stages of a Christian; the one here on earth, the other in the kingdom of heaven: to "look into" the gospel, that is the first; and the second is like unto it, to "remain in it," to set a court of guard about us, that no deceitful temptation remove us out of our place. Our perseverance is a virtue which is never in actu complete, "never hath its complete act in this life."

(A. Farindon, B. D.)

There is much in the eye. For the law of liberty is still the same; it moulteth not a feather, changeth not its shape and countenance: but it may appear in as many shapes as there be tempers and constitutions of the eyes that look into it. An evil eye seeth nothing but faction and debate. A lofty eye seeth nothing but priority and pre-eminence. A bloodshot eye seeth nothing but cruelty, which they call "justice." All the errors of our life, as the philosophers speak of the colours of the rainbow, are oculi opus, "the work of the eye." For the law itself can lend nothing towards them, but stareth them in the face, when the eye hath raised them, to shake and demolish them. It were good, then, to clear our eye before we took into the law, lest whilst we find what pleaseth us, we find what will ruin us. But oh that we should have such eagles' eyes in the things of this world, and be such bats in the gospel of Christ! The covetous looketh into the world, and that hath power to I transform his soul into earth. The wanton looketh upon beauty, and that turneth his into flesh. David beholdeth Bathsheba in her bath, and is on fire. Ahab looketh upon Naboth's vineyard, and is sick. The eye of flesh pierceth deep into the object, and the object pierceth as deep into the soul. But we look and look again into the law of liberty, but so faintly that we draw no power from it to "renew us in the inward man" (Ephesians 3:16). It is a law of liberty, and we look upon it, and yet are slaves.

(A. Farindon, B. D. .)

It is a bad thing to have a poor memory. What a difference there is between people in this respect! How little impression events make on some persons! How easily they forget names, dates, faces, the books they have read, the scenes they have visited! And how wonderfully others remember all these things! Macaulay could repeat from memory books he had read when he was a boy; could repeat the whole of "Paradise Lost," or one of the books of Homer. Indeed, there seems to be hardly any limit to the power of memory. Generals have been known who recollected the name of every soldier in their army, and politicians who could call by name every man to whom they have been introduced. A good memory is the necessary basis of all intellectual action. I think the time will come when we shall know how to educate and discipline the memory, and keep it from forgetting. There will be rules for memorising taught in our schools, to strengthen the memory and keep it in a healthy condition. The most important element of such a system will probably be to form a habit of attention with the purpose of remembering. How we recollect times, places, scenes, adventures, experiences, in which our whole soul was interested! I have heard a woman describing the last days of her husband's life, or that of her child, and every minutest incident was photographed on her brain. So the Evangelists recollect and record all the sayings of their Master, word for word. So the man who has been in a shipwreck, or a railroad accident, or a battle, describes, with intense minuteness and accuracy, all the details, till it rises before you a vivid picture, which you also will remember always, though hearing it at second hand. The stories of travellers are interesting for the same reason, because the novelty of the scenes they visit rouses their attention, and the vivid impressions made on their own minds excite a like interest in ours. We remember that in which we are interested, because we give our attention to it. But when we are not interested in anything, and so do not give our attention to it, we are sure to forget it. Facts and lessons which do not interest us are like the plants which have no root in themselves, and soon wither away. I heard a worthy gentleman arguing that studies ought not to be made too interesting, because boys and girls should have the discipline of hard work. But who works the hardest, I should like to know, he whose heart is not in the work, and who has to force himself to do it by main strength of will, or he who enjoys it while he does it, or does it with the hope of future joy. It is hope and joy which give us strength to work, not disgust or indifference. But we weaken the memory by inattention, which results from the absence of a deep interest and a living purpose. The general rule, then, for improving the memory is, "Take an interest in anything, and you will attend to it; attend to it, and you will recollect it." But what cure is there for moral forgetfulness? Here is a man who forgets all the lessons of experience. He commits the same faults over and over again. Each time, he says to himself, "This is the last time; I will never do so again; I will keep my resolutions hereafter." But he goes his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he is. When I was a boy at the Boston Latin School, our master introduced one day a learned-looking gentleman, who, he told us, had come to teach us a new system of intellectual mnemonics. The thing was done by help of the law of association. We first fixed in our mind a list of familiar objects, and then associated them with the names of kings and queens. But where is the science of spiritual mnemonics? Who shall teach the conscience to remember its duty in the hour of temptation? the heart to remember its best love when drawn aside to the world. There are many marked instances of moral forgetfulness, which show the importance of such a science as this. We are very apt, for example, to forget the religious and moral truth which we hear. We are forgetful hearers of the Word. Where is all the instruction which has been poured into our ears and heart from childhood, by ever-faithful parents, by teachers, professors and guardians. It has all gone. Again, how we forget our own good resolutions! We arrange our life, at the beginning of the year, into a perfect order. We select the faults to be conquered, the virtues to be acquired, the studies to be pursued, the good actions to be done. At the end of the year we look back and find that all these resolutions were presently forgotten, and we went on as before. Again, we forget our duties. "You are one of the most perfect of men," said Lamb to Coleridge, "with only this one slight fault, that if you have any duty to do, you never do it." We remember everything but our duties — these slip from our memory too easily. We forget our promises and engagements. How very mortifying to find that we have promised to do a multitude of things, and that we have forgotten them all! Alas I and worse, we forget the kindness done to us. At the time we feel very grateful, but gratitude becomes burdensome, and so, after a while, we have forgotten our benefactors and their deeds. We forget them, but do not forget those who have injured us, who have wounded our pride. Ah! we remember that too well; "the deadly arrow adheres to our side." We forget the holy love of Christ, the ever-present providence of God, the impending judgments of the future. Who shall give us the system of moral mnemonics by which to remember these things? The difficulty is that we are not really as much interested in the love of God, in duty and spiritual progress, as we are in other matters. But we have all seen those who did not suffer from this fatal want of memory. How is it that they remember so well? It is love which quickens all the powers, memory among the rest. Did Dr. Howe ever forget his blind people? Did Mr. Garrison ever forget his slaves? Did Howard ever forget his prisoners? Did Dorothea Dix ever forget her insane persons? Did Florence Nightingale forget the sick soldiers? Did Lincoln forget the dangers of the country which he served? Or did Jesus ever forget His disciples or His work? No. All these, having loved their own, loved them to the end. Where the heart goes, there memory watches, a sleepless sentinel, ready for every occasion. Only to hear about truth, therefore, profits nothing. We must do it ourselves in order to know it. Lazy acquiescence in another's opinion is not knowledge. Easy assent to the established creed is not belief. Enthusiastic admiration of the eloquence of some favourite teacher is not faith. Truth helps no one who has only heard about it. Until we are doers of the Word, as well as hearers, we are like the clocks and watches in the watchmaker's shop. He sets them all to the right time, and winds them up; but till he touches the pendulum and sets in motion they cannot keep time. So we go to church every Sunday, and the minister winds us up by convincing arguments and by the truths of the gospel; and then he appeals to our feelings, and touches our hearts, and we are set exactly right. The hour-hand and minute-hand are right to a moment. The moral chronometer is regulated to a second. But we ourselves must set the pendulum in motion, and begin to go; else what does it profit us? To be set right and regulated every Sunday morning, what use is there in that, unless we keep going through the week? When we are hearers and not doers, we deceive ourselves. All our thoughts are excellent, our ideas of duty correct, our sentiments noble: we take the highest grounds on all occasions. But this is all outside of our central life. We wash our hands, but not our hearts. Because we are so familiar with what is true and right, we forget at last what manner of men we are. Hearing the truth, when we refuse to act it out, ends in opinion, and opinion in talk, and talk in self-deception. There is a good deal of cheating in the world, but people usually cheat themselves more than they do others. We repeat by rote what we hear, and think that we know it. We talk well and imagine that we are what we say. We hear a truth, and imagine that it is a part of our own character. So we deceive ourselves. Until we have put a truth into action, we do not really know it. The artist may study colours and forms for ever; but until he tries to paint a picture he is only a dilettante artist. The carpenter may hear lectures on the use of tools, but till he learns to use them we do not call him a carpenter. The youth who graduates in a law-school, full of the theory of law, is not yet a lawyer. Do anything, and you come to know it, and then truth becomes knowledge and creates love. We have in Boston a "Free Religious Association," as it is called. Yet true religion is always free, and always sets us free. It is a law of liberty; liberty and law in one. Religion is the source of all real freedom, for true freedom is not wilfulness, but self-direction. And we can only direct ourselves when we have some rule or law by which to direct ourselves; some aim of life, and some method by which to pursue that aim. The rule for strengthening the memory, then, so that we shall not be forgetful hearers, is, first, to give our attention to what we hear, to put our mind into it. A common phrase in English is "to mind a thing," meaning "to remember it." Another meaning of mind is to obey. "Mind your father and mother, child!" To put our mind seriously into anything, leads, first to memory; next, to action. And this action, if we continue therein, becomes at last interesting for its own sake, and so we make it a part of ourselves. We eat it and drink it, and it enters into our life, and life's most secret joy, so that finally we become "blessed in our deed." Thus continued, persistent attention, given to what is true and right, leads to action; and persistent, continued action, leads to love, and deed.

(J. Freeman Clarke.)

Were you to stand at the door of many of our churches, and ask the people as they came out what had been the subject principally dealt with, or the point aimed at by the discourse they had just been listening to, how many would be able to give an intelligible and satisfactory answer? In a large number of cases even the text is, I fear, forgotten before the ascription is reached. Only a short time ago a friend of mine was preaching in one of our cathedral churches. As he was going to select for his text a prominent passage in one of the portions for the day, he thought it expedient to inquire of the clerk, "What did the Canon preach from this morning?" The clerk became very pensive, seemed quite disposed to cudgel his brain for the proper answer; but, somehow or other, he really could not think of it just then. But there were all the men of the choir robing in the adjacent choir vestry; he would go and ask them. Accordingly the same question was passed round the choir, and produced the same perplexity. At length the sagacious clerk returned with the highly explicit answer, "It was upon the Christian religion, sir!" I think those good people must have needed a reminder as to how we should hear, don't you?

(W. H. M. H. Aitken, M. A.)

The truth in Jesus is not a comet, attracting attention, awakening wonder, appearing for a little time and then vanishing away; it is the sun which makes and which rules our spiritual day, and it is the moon relieving the darkness of spiritual night. The truth in Jesus is not like the pictures on the walls of our dwellings, pleasant rather than serviceable, or if useful, not essential; it is as the necessary furniture of our homes. It is not as the garnish of the dishes of a feast, it is as the viands themselves; it is not as honey to bread, but is itself bread of life. It is not as unimportant appendage to Christian character, it is that character's necessary foundation. Let us not neglect doctrine, and let us be careful to render it into action and life.

(S. Martin.)

I. THE DESCRIPTION OF THE GOSPEL REVELATION.

1. James calls it "the law," "the law of liberty," and "the perfect law of liberty." The gospel revelation is the law of the Christian. It is a law of life in contrast with a law of sin and death. It is revealed by Christ Jesus in contrast to that revealed by Moses; it is a law of grace and truth: "The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ."

2. The gospel revelation is the law of liberty, in describing which we cannot, perhaps, more simply and impressively dwell upon it than by keeping before the mind the contrast between the Old and the New Testament revelations. The moral and ceremonial laws enslave their subjects, or rather, they are in bondage who are under the law. But the law of the gospel is a law of liberty; it is a provision of mercy and love to set free from the law of sin and death. The son who loves his father feels a delight in doing his father's will; the service done is perfect freedom, and the law of the father is perfect liberty. It is just in this spirit and in this way the gospel is a law of liberty to us. It is true that the natural man cannot understand this, for the service of religion appears to him servile duty; he cannot find interest nor pleasure in it, and by his own feelings and inclination he judges of others. He is, it may be, a very slave to the vilest propensities of his fallen nature, and yet never dreams that he is suffering himself to be led captive by the devil at his will.

3. The gospel revelation is the law of perfect liberty. There is perfection in everything that originates with God. This law is perfect with respect to its completeness and the liberty it affords. As a revelation from God, it contains a full development of the mind of God concerning the covenant of His grace with men; it contains a perfect directory to us as sinners; it opens up and points out the way to happiness and God. It is perfect in all its provisions; perfect in the sinless obedience of the Son of God, who engaged in covenant with the Father for our salvation; perfect in .the infinite satisfaction given by Him to Divine justice; perfect in the spotless sacrifice He offered for our sins; perfect in the complete salvation obtained for us and therein revealed. It is perfect in its precepts, perfect in its promises, perfect in its doctrines, and perfect in the countless blessings it brings to men.

4. Now, this perfect law of liberty is given to us that we may know the mind and will of God concerning our salvation. We have not to say, "Who shall ascend into heaven? or, Who shall descend into the deep?" to obtain this law of the gospel for us, for the word is nigh us, even in our mouth and in our heart.

II. THE CONDUCT OF THOSE WHO ARE INFLUENCED BY IT.

1. Such conduct is described in our text as looking into it, continuing therein, and doing the work. Looking into it signifies no superficial investigation, nor casual perusal, such as the uninterested and unconcerned would give it under some conviction of conscience arising from a sense of duty. A profound meditation is directed into the word of the gospel, with a view to comprehend the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. When savingly interested in the gospel, we look into it so as to find the virtue of it in our hearts. It cannot be better explained, perhaps, than in the words of the apostle (2 Corinthians 3:18). The Christian cannot rest satisfied unless he is looking into the law of the gospel so as to be transformed by it into the likeness of Christ.

2. The continuance therein proves that with the true Christian religion is not of an evanescent character. It is true that the Christian is the subject of many changes. The liveliness of his impressions may not always be the same. Clouds may cover his mind, temptations may assault his soul, unbelief may distress his spirit. But under all such painful exercises he does not despise the perfect law of liberty; he rather turns to it with solicitude and prayer. It is his chart to heaven; it sheds a light upon his path to cheer and comfort his distressed spirit.

3. Continuing therein presents a line of conduct directly in contrast with that of the casual observer or the individual who discovers in it the deformity of his own character, add straightway goeth his way and forgetteth what manner of person he was, or that of a hearer and not a doer of the work.

4. Doing the work is knowledge reduced to practice, theory carried to a living embodiment of truth, and principle fell wed to active development. Where there is sincerity of heart, obedience will follow. The glory of the gospel revelation is, that God, by implanting a gracious principle in the souls of the regenerate, gives power to the Christian to do all that He requires. Though we are not under the moral law as working for life, we are under it as a rule of action, and every Christian delights in it. The commands of the New Testament are to repent, believe, love, serve, worship, and praise God. The individual who doeth these doeth the Christian work — the work that God requires of us in the gospel of His grace — and such shall be saved.

III. THE HAPPINESS OF THE PRACTICAL CHRISTIAN "This man shall be blessed in his deed." It is not every man nor every professor of Christianity to whom attention is directed, but that individual who lives his profession by learning from the revealed will of Heaven what is required of him, and who reduces it to practical godliness. He may, in his onward course to heaven, experience rebuffs, assaults, and various trials; but with all these the Lord points him out as the object of His favour and delight. It is in his deed he is to be blessed, for in the practice of godliness the blessing comes. It is a medium or a channel through which the Lord visits him with blessing, or makes him happy. It is as impossible to separate happiness from religion as it is to separate sensation from life. The seraphic joys of heaven spring from likeness to God and from doing His will; and were it not for the remaining corruption of nature and the imperfect knowledge and service of the Christian on earth, the bliss of a paradise would be experienced. The devoted Christian's happiness is a combination of spiritual peace, love, joy, fellowship and communion with Jehovah. The experience of this blessedness is not in its full measure. There are degrees of happiness, and for the most part in this life moderately and faintly experienced. But the lowest degree makes the Christian feel how foolish, vain, and hurtful are the highest enjoyments of sinful and worldly pleasures, so that he turns from what the world calls happiness with sorrow and disgust. It must not be forgotten that the devoted Christian is not exempt from trials and afflictions as diversified and multiplied as those of men generally, and by reason of mental and bodily infirmities may have sorrow, distress, and darkness of soul. He has seasons when he is in the valley as well as on the mount, but he is blessed notwithstanding. God is still his covenant Father; Jesus Christ is still his Saviour, Friend, and Brother; the Holy Spirit is still his Sanctifier and Comforter; the promises of God are still his. He is pardoned, he is justified, and he is sanctified. The life of Christian devotedness is, then, a life of happiness. There is blessedness in all spiritual exercises of the Christian heart, blessedness in all the performances of Christian devotion and duties, and blessedness in all the benevolent operations of the Christian's life and actions; so that not even a cup of cold water can be administered in the name of a disciple unregarded by the Lord or unblessed by Him.

(S. Wills, D. D.)

The word "religious," here, does not mean the entire religious life — the inner experience and the outward manifestation of religion — but only the outward expression of it. It is the branches and fruit of religion; not its root — that without which the root would be useless, but which is itself dependent upon the root for its very existence. It is the body of religion; not the soul — yet the body by which the soul acts. It is — to use a now commonly repeated word — the ritual of religion. To the Christian the whole world is a temple, and all life that religious service of which we speak. This is the ritual we care to preach, and long to revive; the ritual of pure morality; not the morality of worldly maxims, or human standards; but the morality that springs from love to Christ, and is possible only through faith in Him.

I. A FALSE RITUAL. James is here merely citing one example of many false rituals, and he is probably citing that one because it was emphatically the sin of the Church of that age. It is, in a word, the sins of the tongue — the sin of wantonness of speech. Notice that all external manifestation of religion — if you like, all ritual — is faulty, fantastic, and false — that is —

1. Self-deceptive. There are some sins, in the midst of whose blighting influences a man cannot satisfy even his imagination that he is religious; that are too flagrant to let a man "deceive his own heart." But there are others that many a man commits, and yet imagines that he is religious. Refined sins, that have a smooth attire and a gentle voice; customary sins, that are easily lost in the crowd of other men's sins, because they are so common in their appearance. Such men are their own dupes.

2. Inconsistent. All wrong expression of religious life is inconsistent. Is not murder? Yes, you say quickly — and so is lying! However, James instances a more common, and, some might have thought, excusable, inconsistency. But he quotes it as an example of all the rest, and sternly condemns it. All garrulousness, all excessive talkativeness, is here condemned — whether it is that of uncharitableness, including the words of hatred, of passion, of detraction, or that of untruthfulness, where there is deceit, false witness; or that of unreality, when in social intercourse, or in worship, unmeant, unfelt things are continually being said, or sung — words that circulate in the home, the drawing-room, or the sanctuary that are base coin.(1) The gossip "bridleth not his tongue." Such is the man who is greatly interested in, and constant conversing about, the concerns of others, who is ever ready to say many things about the commercial concerns, the home, the social life, or the moral character of his neighbour.(2) The censor "bridleth not his tongue." Such is the man who is constantly criticising and condemning his fellow-men, forgetting the Divine command, "Judge not, lest ye be judged."(3) The bigot "bridleth not his tongue." Such is the man who has no brotherly words for any beyond his own Church.(4) The sentimentalist "bridleth not his tongue." Such is the man who strongly utters what he weakly feels; who glibly says or sings what is mere matter of superficial feeling rather than of deep spiritual conviction.

3. Valueless. We are as Christians what priests in the sanctuary before the congregations profess to be — we are performing the holy rites, and thus symbolising the faith and uttering the worship of Christ. Our ritual is our life. That life is the performance of religious rites which symbolise our faith to the world, and utter our worship to God. Now, the life of such as we have glanced at, must evidently be a false ritual. It does not symbolise our religion to the world, for when the lynx-eyed world observes the conversation of the gossip, or of the censor, or of the bigot, or of the sentimentalist, it is not awed by it, it is not attracted by it. There is nothing religiously impressive in such conduct. Such a "man's religion is vain." Nor does it honour God.

II. A TRUE RITUAL. Coleridge well says that "While the outward services of ancient religion, rites, ceremonies, and ceremonial restraints of the old law had morality for their end, were the letter of which morality was the spirit, morality itself is the service and ceremonial of the Christian religion."

1. Beneficence. The charities that lead us in the footsteps of Emmanuel, who" went about doing good," are the best authorised rites of our religion.(1) Care for the afflicted.(2):Personal intercourse with the afflicted. Charity seems to do too much of her work in these days by proxy. If you would really be of Christian service to the afflicted, be a brother, not a benefactor only.

2. Purity.(1) The world is a defiling thing.(2) The Christian is to mingle with the world.(3) That the Christian must not be defiled with the world. These two, then, charity and holiness — not apart, but together: not in themselves, but as the expression of piety, the simple and sublime ritual of religion — are necessary and possible to every Christian man. Our Pattern exemplified them.

(U. R. Thomas.)

St. James here speaks of religion under one particular aspect, and one only; that of external form, ceremonial, and observance — those outward expressions which are helpful, and needful, to bring into act and substance the inner workings of heart and soul. Such external things are necessary to all religion, to all worship — such as we in this world can offer. It is a good sign of our days, that there is less of that poverty of heart many of us can remember which made men shrink from all outward appearance of religion; when godlessness, immorality, or levity of life was magnified into a meretricious repute; and the vast majority of people would rather be thought votaries of the world than devout followers of the gospel of Christ. But just as one extreme form of evil diminishes, another, under the fine policy of the enemy of souls, comes in danger of gaining ground. It is that which St. James sorrowfully saw in his day, the mere seeming of religion in outward things; the too easy, often too humanly attractive ways which look like the service of Christ, when really they may be but the service of our own wills and desires, of the fancied ideal we substitute for "pure and undefiled religion."

1. First I would say be jealously watchful against every kind of simulation in the religious life; against any weak or morbid care for the seeming of your character and ways; for what you may appear to be, rather than for what you really and vitally are. In the depth of our own hearts our effort must be to love and serve "our Father which seeth in secret"; and commit to Him the care of "rewarding us openly."

2. That spirit and temper of "religion is vain" too in which a man "bridleth net his tongue." All experience tells us, as the records of other generations in our own history bear witness too, that it is in the very nature of controversy to quicken our most questionable feelings, to stimulate our least beneficial powers; and happiest are they who are most spared its trial.

3. There remains one other note of danger to real and practical religion which St. James touches, when he speaks of a man "deceiving his own heart." This may seem a general form of expression; but we may consider it as enforcing the great lesson that all vital religion has more to do with the heart than the head; and must be judged by its power over those deep-seated affections, to which the most moving appeal of Christ's religion is made.

(Canon Puckle.)

I. A SPECIMEN OF VAIN RELIGION (ver. 26). "If any man among you" — any man, be he who he may, be his standing and authority, his profession and position, what they may, among you Christians. By putting the matter thus, he would lead them to deal with themselves individually and inquire whether the supposition was realised in regard to himself. "Seem to be religious." "Seem," — that is not so much to others as to himself — if he think that this is his character and condition.

1. The sin specified. It is that of not bridling the tongue. The person who speaks uncharitably, maliciously, slanderously, who gives ready utterance, free circulation to calumnies, suspicions, insinuations — who propagates false charges, or true ones, in a bitter, envious or malignant spirit — he assuredly bridles not his tongue. The reviler, the backbiter, the whisperer, the reckless, abusive partisan, the inventor and publisher of bad names and injurious rumours — all such are clearly involved in this condemnation. And short even of this the sin here specified may exist, may reign. We may not bridle the tongue as regards vain, light, foolish talking. Our speech, if free from the bad feeling of those whose words are spears and arrows, may be trivial, frothy, unprofitable. It may signally want dignity, gravity, purity.

2. The evidence it furnishes. Why does James make so much of the bridling of the tongue? Set any part of the Divine statute-book at nought, and you in effect trample on every part; you strike at the foundation of the entire structure. It indicates a rooted rebelliousness, whatever appearances of submission, and even whatever acts of submission, there may be in certain duties and for certain purposes. The tongue, let it be remembered, is regulated and ruled by the heart; for "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh" (Matthew 12:34, 35). The one is the index of the other. The stream corresponds to the hidden spring, and tells us what are its qualities. And yet again, the sin which, in a sense, is begun with speech, does not end there, but goes a great deal farther. It spreads in every direction, and involves often the most extensive evil influences and consequences. As it issues from a fountain of impurity, it becomes in turn such a fountain itself, and the bitter waters flowing forth from it carry desolation and death to quarters which had otherwise been fresh and fruitful.

II. THE NATURE OF TRUE RELIGION (ver. 27). "Pure and undefiled" — characterising it both positively and negatively. "Pure," that is, genuine, sound, as it were, clean like the region from which it comes, and to which it returns. "Undefiled," not contaminated by any corrupt, earthly mixture, not polluted or stained by the introduction of carnal, beggarly elements. "Before God and the Father" — God, who is the Father, the paternal relation being specially mentioned, it may be, with reference to them as begotten by the Word of Truth, and so His spiritual children. "Before Him," meaning in His presence, or in His estimation. "Is this," consists in this, not meaning that it is confined to the particulars which follow. It embraces gracious principles and affections which are now left out of sight, the subject treated of by the apostle being definite and limited. And even as regards outward duties, which are those embraced in the peculiar term rendered religion, only such are singled out as bore on the writer's present purpose — these, however, being highly significant and representative in their character.

1. "To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction." Observe the parties — "the fatherless," orphans, those deprived of parents. In the mention of them there may be an allusion to God, as here presented to view in the character of a father. Such children are in a peculiarly desolate and distressing condition. The duty specified is that of visiting these parties, which includes every kind of friendly office — counsel, aid, defence, soothing their sorrows, supplying their wants, vindicating their rights. We are not to be satisfied with acting through a substitute — a missionary, an agent of some religious or charitable society. We are to come into contact with them — to go to them in person.

2. "To keep himself unspotted from the world." Here strict purity is enjoined. The world is corrupt and defiling. And, mark, we are not even to be spotted by it, we are to guard against the slightest stain, avoiding all its vanities as well as its vices. From everything of the kind we are to "keep ourselves." Now, mark, these two things go together, and may not be separated. There must be both the generous heart and the circumspect walk, goodness in union with holiness. And when genuine, they spring from, and are pervaded by, godliness. They are rooted in a filial relation to the Father above, in a right standing before Him, and a gracious conformity to Him; with Him they originate, and to Him they have respect in all their actings.

(John Adam.)

I. NOTICE THE UNBRIDLED TONGUE AS IMPLYING FALSEHOOD.

1. Some men lie maliciously.(1) They may be actuated by a desire to be revenged for some real or fancied injury.(2) They may wish to benefit themselves at the expense of others.(3) They may desire to set two persons at variance, and therefore misrepresent the actions and motives of one to the other.

2. Some men lie indiscreetly. They garnish, modify, or magnify the story, so that it conveys a wrong impression.

3. Some men lie thoughtlessly. Such are tattling gossips, the news vendours of small communities.

4. The unbridled tongue is often the tongue of a hasty, choleric person.

II. THE RELIGION OF THE MAN WHO DOES NOT BRIDLE HIS TONGUE IS VAIN.

1. He deceives his own heart.

2. He only seems to be religious.

3. He proves that one great ruling sin at least remains unsubdued.

III. THE CONSEQUENCES OF AN UNBRIDLED TONGUE ARE SERIOUS.

1. To the person himself.

(1)His mind must be unhappy, filled with jealousy, envy, and hate.

(2)No one will trust him, give him his confidence, or listen to him without misgivings.

(3)He gets irate trouble when his indiscretion or his falsehood is found out.

(4)God knows his character

2. To others.

(1)Misrepresentation, trouble, sorrow, injustice.

(2)Men will hate and avoid the unbridled tongue as much as possible.

(3)Lying is the grand characteristic, if not the root, of all vicious conduct, and of which Satan is an embodiment.

(Homilist.)

At the Stephen's Institute, Hoboken, there is a testing department devoted to the business of testing the quality of oils and other substances; and I am told it is a very lucrative business, since it is a matter of great importance to large numbers of people to have a scientific and impartial test of the quality of the articles alluded to. There is an oil, however, which is not quoted in the markets, though it is of the greatest value, and which is not tested at any of our institutes, though to be sure of the quality is a thing of unspeakable moment. It is that oil which many of us — who, like the virgins in the parable, have gone forth to meet the Bridegroom — are supposed to have taken in our vessels with our lamps. But it is of the last importance that we should know the quality of this our oil, whether it is genuine or no, whether it will burn on through the night of death and trial, or will prove spurious or adulterated oil, so that when the cry is heard, "Behold, the Bridegroom cometh," and we arise and trim our lamps, we find that they burn low, and go out, and leave us in the darkness. Now the Bible furnishes the tests whereby we may ascertain its genuineness. Here is one of them. Sometimes a single chemical test is sufficient to settle the quality of an article: so it is here. If our oil cannot stand this test, it is not pure. The government of the tongue is the test of the genuineness of a man's religion. But one may ask, Why should the tongue be bridled? And what is there in the bridling of it, which carries such significance that it is alone the sufficient and crucial test of the quality of a man's religion? I give three reasons.

I. BECAUSE THE POWER OF SPEECH, WHICH IS THE USE OF THE TONGUE, INVOLVES A VERY GRAVE RESPONSIBILITY. It may not be exercised lightly or thoughtlessly, but reverently, discreetly, soberly, and in the fear of God. The man of science tells us the vibrations of the air which we produce in speech are transmitted on through the centuries. So is it oftentimes with the influence of an idle, or a sinful, or a hasty word; once spoken, who shall recall it? or who shall put a period to its influence for evil? Not one. In the Alps the traveller is sometimes bidden by his experienced guide to avoid speaking, because under certain conditions the vibrations of the voice may precipitate the terrible avalanche. The hasty or the intemperate word, or even the whispered slander, has often precipitated great crises in history which have involved myriads in misery, and oftener has brought down on men, in their social or domestic life, an avalanche of ills and woes.

II. BECAUSE THE TONGUE BOTH MAKES AND REVEALS THE MAN. If it makes the man, then it ought to be bridled, lest it make him ill. If it reveals him, then the bridling of it, so that it shall not transgress its proper limit, is a fair test of the quality of a man's religion. The tongue, I say, makes the man. Yes, for the influence of speech is reflex as well as direct. No word is spoken but leaves its impress behind it upon the lips that utter it before it can exercise any influence upon the ear that hears it. Your speech goes to form your character. You will grow largely what your words make you — light, unstable and unreliable, fickle and false, peevish and irritable, impure and ungodly, if your talk be such. I say, therefore, again, the tongue makes the man. Then let it be bridled, let it be wisely regulated. It is also the expression of the man. It reveals him, tells what he really is. Yes, though he may train his tongue to deceit, misrepresentation, prevarication, suppression of the truth, even downright falsehood, yet in the end, and on the whole, the tongue will be the expression of the man. No man can be false always. The mask worn in public must commonly be laid aside in private. And not only so: the habit of concealing the truth, and assuming a character which is unreal, will beget a habit of tortuous and indirect expression which by and by will reveal the man.

III. BECAUSE OF ITS WILD AND UNGOVERNABLE NATURE AND ITS GREAT AND PECULIAR POWER FOR MISCHIEF. The twelve labours of Hercules were easier than the task of controlling the tongue at all seasons and under all circumstances. Curbed at one point — profanity, for instance — it will break out at another. Subdued to-day, it will break its fetters to-morrow. Docile under the influence of reason and reflection in the quiet of the chamber, it will suddenly become fierce under some unexpected provocation, at some undeserved slight or rebuke. Then, too, the tongue possesses peculiar powers for mischief. A hunter in the Adirondacks drops a spark from his pipe, and soon that little spark has kindled the whole mountains into flame, and for weeks the fire burns on, filling the land with smoke by day and lighting up all the heavens with its lurid glare by night, until at length it dies for want of fuel to feed on. And the tongue, says St. James (James 3:5), little as it is, is likewise destructive. Often some spark from a hasty or an inconsiderate tongue has set a whole neighbourhood on fire, and the flame of hatred has smouldered on for a generation. Often some spark from an unruly tongue has kindled in a household a spirit of petulancy which has scorched all the sweet, tender grass and fragrant flowers of domestic love and fellowship. And then the tongue possesses this peculiarity, that it draws all the members and all the faculties after it in its transgression. He who bridleth not his tongue need not think to govern his temper or to restrain his hands from evil, or to walk in the paths of peace. As poison quickly permeates the blood, as the fire sweeps on the wings of the wind over the prairie, so the tongue inflames the whole man: "it setteth on fire the whole course of nature" the whole compass of man's being, the circumference of his corporeal powers. Whence does it derive this fatal power? "It is set on fire of hell!" Oh, the pity! oh, the shame! that speech — that high prerogative of man, whereby he is in his bodily structure chiefly distinguished from the brutes — should be made the means of bestialising, yea, demonising, this heir of immortality!

(R. H. McKim, D. D.)

This admonition teacheth that the law of God, being a lantern unto our feet and a light unto our paths, and a thing Divinely inspired from above to make a man perfect in righteousness, doth not only restrain the unbridled actions of man, but also the disordered speeches of their mouths, that both in action and communication they may be holy unto the Lord. The reasons hereof are two.

1. It causeth error in our lives and hurt unto ourselves when we are given to babbling and prating; thereby our hearts are deceived and ourselves endangered. Solomon setting down the inconvenience of not restraining the tongue, affirmeth that life and death are therein. He that keepeth his mouth and his tongue keepeth his soul from trouble. As a city lying open and uncompassed with walls, even so is a man that cannot restrain his tongue.

2. As not moderating our tongues we deceive our own hearts, so we corrupt and defile our religion and make it vain before God.(1) Vain talk,. idle and frivolous, serving to no profit, prating where there is no need, we shall give account to God for.(2) Another evil of the tongue to be restrained in men is when we talk of God, of His Word, of His law and religion, not desirous to reform our lives according unto His commandments. This is a great evil and point of halting hypocrisy whereby our religion is vain.

3. As from these evils our tongues must be restrained, so from rash judgment.

4. Another evil is flattery.

5. Dissimulation — when we pretend one thing in our words and speeches and have another thing in our hearts, whether it be to God as hypocrites or to men as counterfeits — maketh also our religion vain.

6. The sixth evil from which we must refrain is lying, which is a false signification of speech or voice with intention to deceive.

7. The next evil which corrupteth our religion and maketh it vain before God is filthy speech, whereby not only our lives are descried to be evil, but our hearts to be wicked and our religion counterfeit.

8. Another is slander, whereof James 4:11.

9. Another, cursing and execration (James 3:9).

10. A tenth evil is blasphemy and swearing, spoken of James 5:12. Of all these may we worthily say with the apostle, "If any man among you seem religious, and restraineth not his tongue from these, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain."

(R. Turnbull.)

I. SOME GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS, TO DEMONSTRATE THE NECESSITY OF THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE.

1. Consider what amazing good or awful mischief your tongue may be the instrument of effecting. The tongue of the eloquent Demosthenes roused the Athenians against the boundless ambition of Philip; the bold tongue of the eloquent Cicero delivered his country from the deep-laid plots of the artful Catiline; the wild harangues of a solitary hermit filled all Europe with frenzy, and armed them for the romantic exploits of the Crusade; and there have not been wanting in modern times instances of the power of words, when, at the name of Austerlitz or Marengo, thousands have rushed upon the bayonet's point and hurried to the arms of death.

2. Consider the intimate connection of your words with your thoughts and actions.

3. The laws which all civilised nations in every age have found it necessary to enact for the government of the tongue. In the laws of Menu, the great legislator of the Hindoos, the most tremendous judgments are threatened to the slanderer or the perjured witness. These are the remarkable words: "Whatever places of torture have been prepared for the slayer of a priest, for the murderer of a woman or a child, for the injurer of a friend, or for an ungrateful man, those places are ordained for a witness who gives false evidence"; and again: "The fruit of every virtuous action which thou hast done, O good man, since thy birth, shall depart from thee to dogs if thou deviate in speech from the truth." In China excessive talkativeness in a woman is by the law considered a sufficient ground for a divorce. Solon enacted wholesome laws against calumny and slander, and annexed heavy fines to the violation of them. Augustus Caesar declared the authors of all libels, &c., attacking or blackening the reputation of any person whatsoever, guilty of high treason, and punishable with death. Amongst the Egyptians perjury was regarded as a capital crime, and the false accuser was doomed to undergo the punishment which, had the charge been substantiated, would have been inflicted on the accused.

4. Your tongues are the property of God. It should, then, be your constant care that it unite with its kindred organs to advance the Redeemer's praise.

II. SOME OF THOSE VICES OF THE TONGUE WHICH THE SCRIPTURES HAVE PARTICULARLY CENSURED, AND THE PREVALENCE OF WHICH MORE ESPECIALLY DEMONSTRATES THE NECESSITY OF THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE.

1. The profane tongue. Under this head maybe classed —(1) All kinds of blasphemy.(2) Perjury.(3) Common swearing.(4) All jesting with the Scriptures.(5) All sorts of incantations and enchantments.(6) All cursing or imprecating the Divine vengeance upon ourselves or others.(7) The performance of religious services in an irreverent and thoughtless manner.

2. The false tongue.(1) Lying in the common acceptation of the word.(2) There is a species of lying, however, for which some writers on moral philosophy have contended as not being injurious to society or unlawful in itself, but which, in my opinion, is highly prejudicial to the simplicity and confidence of social intercourse, and very far from the undisguised and open spirit inculcated by the gospel. I mean the habit of exaggeration and embellish-meat in narratives; the practice of denying one's self to those persons whom it does not suit either our convenience or our inclination to see; the compliments and declarations of friendship which come not from the heart; and the welcomes which are dictated by politeness to persons whom we secretly dislike: in all which cases truth and sincerity would dictate a very different style of address to that which is actually employed.(3) In addition to this it may be observed that there may be lying, and that of a most aggravated kind, without absolute untruth: as in the case of prevarication, or dissimulation, or when words are used in another sense by the speaker than that in which it was intended the hearer should understand them.

3. Idle tongue.(1) All vain, foolish, and frivolous conversation.(2) Hence follows tale-bearing in all its hateful and injurious varieties.

4. The malignant tongue. Under this head I might say much of —(1) Detraction, a species of calumny and a vice of the malignant tongue far too prevalent, and that where least of all it should be known; I mean among friends and brethren — the tongue which, under the colour of friendship, aims a deadlier blow and inflicts a deeper wound.

III. SOME GENERAL RULES FOR THE PERFORMANCE OF THE DUTY.

1. Look well to the cultivation of the heart, for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.

2. Look well to the furniture of the head. "Some people's heads," says an old divine, "are like a bell, in which there is nothing but tongue and emptiness." If you would have your tongue delivered from stupid silence on the one hand and vain and foolish talking on the other, take care to be well furnished with holy and useful matter for discourse; and that you may be so, accept the following advice: — Read much; think much, and upon the best of subjects; hear much, and for this purpose seek the best society; write much if you have leisure, for this will correct the flippancy of speech and habituate you to express your thoughts with sobriety and precision.

3. Learn the art of silence. I say the art, for there is as much wisdom required in knowing when to be silent as when to speak.

4. That your tongue may be well regulated in company, always furnish yourselves for the occasion, according to the nature of the society in which inclination or necessity may place you — as the surgeon, who carries his instruments about him, and the traveller wire is furnished for the necessities of his journey. Go with a chastened spirit into the presence of the haughty, with powerful arguments into the society of the sceptic, with useful information into the company of the ignorant; and thus supplied from those treasuries of wisdom which are "profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness," you will be thoroughly furnished unto every good word and work.

5. Watch against the influence of pride, vanity, and passion. The first will make your speech disgusting, the second contemptible, and the third dangerous.

6. Bear constantly in mind how great a conquest is the government of the tongue. This is more than repulsing armies and subduing kingdoms. It is related of one of the ancients that a man without learning came to him to be taught a psalm. He turned to the thirty-ninth. But when he had heard the first verse of it — "I said I would take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue" — the man would hear no more, saying this was enough if he could practise it; and when the instructor blamed him that he had not seen him for six months, he replied that he had not done the verse; and forty years after he confessed he had been all that time studying it, but had not learned to fulfil it yet.

7. Make the government of the tongue the subject of your daily prayer.

8. Every evening, ere you retire to rest, let the words you have uttered constitute an important part in the retrospect of the day.

9. Realise the presence of the Eternal God.

(T. Raffles, LL. D.)

I. Then it would seem that there is such a thing as not only being religious, BUT APPEARING TO BE; that rejoicing though we can in the sincerity of some, we are not to be blind to the pretence and hypocrisy of others, Now this sin is one which may consist with an assumed high standing in grace. It may be so managed as to conceal its deformity; it may assume even an air of religiousness. It may, and it does, abound within the most sacred enclosures; and it tells sadly for our fallen nature that in spots the most favoured there not unfrequently it most luxuriates: where the gospel is most faithfully preached there does it most prevail. Not that at the door of the gospel the evil lies, nor that its faithful ministrations have any natural tendency to beget or to strengthen it; but it springs altogether from the native vileness of the heart brought in contact with the gospel. Its own native tendency is to change and purify the heart, but when this its direct object is not attained, it serves but to call forth latent corruption; or, while it puts a check upon a sinful propensity in one direction, it is the innocent and accidental cause of its rushing more violently in another. And it is in this manner that we account for what, at first sight, might seem to cast dishonour on the gospel.

II. Now How DOES HE PROCEED TO DETECT AND EXPOSE THIS SEEMING RELIGIOUSNESS? YOU remark that he .makes no appeal to any open or gross violation of the moral law. It is the sin of the tongue, "the best member that we have," whose right use most dignifies and exalts, but by reason of our apostasy becomes the very worst. Now, it may seem strange that our apostle should have made this selection by which to test the conscience; but what better test could he apply? Take the connection which subsists between the tongue and the heart. "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh"; and surely an evil tongue is undeniable demonstration of an evil heart. Besides which, what is religion but a link, a bond, a tie between God and the soul? What God is in His moral nature, that religion binds man to be; and so close is the union cemented that the soul of a truly religious man begins to love what God loves and hate what God hates. Impossible, therefore, whatever he may profess, that the man who "bridles not his tongue," but suffers it to sport itself in reviling, censuring, or detraction — impossible this man's religion can be other than "vain." Hath not He whose religion bids us love Him "with all our heart and soul and mind and strength "also commanded us to love our neighbour as ourselves? Can we obey the one command and disobey the other? We stop not to inquire into the thousand ways in which an unbridled tongue, with an open ear, evidences an unsanctified heart. The love of slander, whether it be to tell it or to hear it, argues a disposition as fallen as Satan's, and with sad but certain truth may it be said of all who love to indulge in it, "Ye are of your father the devil," for his works ye do, whose very name betrays his nature — "accuser," slanderer of "the brethren." There is one tiling, however, we must not leave unnoticed; it is the effect of this sin upon the individual himself. "He deceiveth his own heart." The fabricator of lies, by repeating them, soon begins to believe them; and if at the onset there were some slight misgivings of conscience, they are soon silenced, and a hardened conscience and a deceived heart are the appalling reward of a deceiving, slandering, unbridled tongue.

III. And now we come TO THE JUDGMENT THE APOSTLE DELIVERS ON SUCH A RELIGION: "It is vain" — unprofitable, injurious, destructive. To the individual himself it is the pathway to endless ruin; to others it is frightfully mischievous; to God most dishonourable.

(J. Hazlegrave, M. A.)

The text is not solitary in the importance it attaches to the power of controlling our speech. "Death and life are in the power of the tongue," says the wise man. "What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good," says the Psalmist: "keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile." "He that keepeth his mouth keepeth his life, but he that openeth wide his lip shall have destruction." Nay, more, in that awful description of human depravity contained in the third chapter of Romans, it is observable how the chief instruments of human offending are made to consist in the organs of speech. "Their throat is an open sepulchre," it is said; "the poison of asps is under their lips; their mouth is full of cursing and bitterness": all tending to corroborate the position of the text, that the soul has no greater enemy than an unbridled tongue.

1. In proceeding to illustrate the mischiefs arising from this source, our first example may be taken from the use of unbridled speech when we are yielding to the passion of anger. Well, see we a man given to this fierce contention, it is the argument of the text that such a man's religion is vain. The root of the matter is not in him: his religion is a mere outside show, an empty vessel, a thing without life. Be is ignorant of the first article of practical Christianity, he has no rule over his own spirit. Solomon thus describes the course of one of these — "The beginning of the words of his mouth is foolishness, and the end of his talk is mischievous madness." "For the lips of a fool will swallow up himself." Bold image this of a man swallowing up himself, and what does the wise man mean? Why, that an open mouth on earth may open the mouth of that pit which shall swallow up all who are cast into it. "I say unto you, that whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment; but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire." Vain then is the religion of a man who against the course of anger bridleth not his tongue, for Satan, knowing his tendencies, will always find some occasions for fanning this flame. Through pride and wounded self-love, that most sensitive of all sensitive plants, the man is in a constant broil; his irritability breaks up all the tranquillities of his religious nature. It wounds his peace, frets his spirit, sours his charity, mars his prayers. He gives place to the devil, says the apostle; that is, invites him into his heart, and at the same time he drives out another guest, the blessed Spirit of God. This Divine Being dwells not in the convulsed region of human strife.

2. But another form of tongue sin comprehended in the sentence of the text, is that of detracting, uncharitableness, and malicious gossiping. Thus whosoever makes not conscience of what he repeats to the prejudice of another, who is not slow to speak out against him, and then only with deep and not affected sorrow — that man's religion is vain. He is wanting in that charity which "rejoiceth not in iniquity," even when the report is true, but which "hopeth all things, believeth all things" — covereth all things, as the original has it — in the possibility that the allegation may be after all false. And the lack of this personal grace of our Christianity stamps his whole religion as hollow and unreal.

3. I pass to a third form of the sins of the tongue, which, though we may hope but of rare occurrence, must not be passed over: I mean that which another apostle censures in the worded "Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient." The tongue-sins hitherto commented upon are acknowledged sins; where these are, we shall all admit such a man's religion is vain. But do we judge thus of some other sins to which the tongue chiefly ministers? For instance, the sin of ostentation, and boasting, and vanity, and self-display. Can a man be Diotrephes and Christian? Can the humility, and gentleness, and self-hiding of one who feels that he owes all to free grace consist with the practice of an unbridled tongue? "No," says the apostle, "such a man's religion is vain; and vain," he adds, "for this reason, because he deceiveth his own heart." He has looked so long on the waters that reflect his image, that at length his heart knows not its own bitterness, and is an utter stranger to its own plague. Put the bridle on your tongue, then, whenever you feel it is about to say something which is to attract attention to yourself. It is an offence before God; He will have no flesh glory in His presence. I will touch upon one other form of unguarded speech, very different indeed from any we have yet considered, yet I nothing doubt, designedly comprehended within the range of the apostle's censures. I allude to the sin of rash and violent complainings when we are under the chastening hand of God. In all times of tribulation learn the wisdom of keeping a tight reign upon the tongue. There is only one ear into which you can pour your lamentations with safety. Grief delights in the exhibition of its own passion; it is maddened into frenzy by the extravagance of its own recitals. The truth of this is seen in the case of the patriarch Job. We do not find a single word of impatience from him until he has begun to pour out his sorrows into the ear of human listeners.

(D. Moore, M. A.)

I. A MAN MAY "SEEM TO BE RELIGIOUS" WHILE "THE ROOT OF THE MATTER" IS A-WANTING.

1. An unconverted man may do many decent and honourable things. In domestic life, he can, indeed, discharge his duty faithfully. In the transaction of mercantile business, too, a man who has never appropriated Christ by faith, may scorn to utter a falsehood or to do a dishonest deed.

2. Much, in a man's character and conduct is concealed from the eye of others. Besides the insidious efforts of the hypocrite to conceal his vices the true character of man is withdrawn from the public eye. Vice, too, when practised by a man who seeks to preserve a decent reputation, naturally courts the shade.

3. The world does not prescribe any very lofty standard of religion.

II. WITH RESPECT TO HIS CHARACTER AND CONDITION A MAN MAY "DECEIVE HIS OWN HEART." Neglecting self-examination altogether, some men give themselves up to the direct influence of the pride and self-conceit which are so natural to the human mind. Others, in examining themselves, resort to false and unscriptural tests — such as, Am I not as good as my neighbours? Am I not better than I once was? And some who employ good tests. Do I love the Lord? Have I been born again? — apply them in so unintelligent, so cursory, or so dishonest a way, that they come to a false conclusion respecting their own character and case.

III. IT IS DARK SIGN OF A MAN "WHEN HE "BRIDLETH NOT HIS TONGUE."

(M. S. Patterson, D. D)

We must not be deceived by our own profession. If any member of our body be an instrument of sin, it shows that our hearts are still unconquered by the grace of God. And no member more quickly shows this than the tongue. And few things are more injurious than an unbridled tongue. A fool's tongue wanders everywhere, into fields lawful and unlawful. Men have no right to talk heedlessly. It is no excuse that a speaker did not mean to do wrong, or that he "meant nothing by it." We are bound to mean something every time we speak, and we are bound to mean something good; the tongue must have on the bridle of thought, and that must be held by the reason, which is the right hand of religion. It is of those words which were not intended by the speaker to be profitable, words uttered when he "meant nothing," that Jesus said (Matthew 12:36). It may be a question which does most harm, a false tongue, or an unbridled tongue. In the case of the former, it may so soon be discovered that it is the instrument of a liar that all men can guard themselves against it; but the unbridled tongue may belong to a man who has some pleasing qualities, or to a woman who but for her wild tongue would be a charming person, and so people are thrown off their guard, and the secret poison of the bitter and bad word may work disastrously. The man who professes to be a believer, and possesses an unbridled tongue, is utterly useless to the cause of all true religion. He may be very punctual in attendance on all forms of public worship; he may even take part in them, exhibiting great gifts in prayer, and great zeal for religion; he may be a very genial and companionable person, witty and bright; he may seem to take great interest in others, and give of his own income or substance to promote what are considered the interests of religion; all that and much more may he do; with the industry of a gambler striving to cheat from himself the verdict that he is a truly religious man; and yet all the while that man's religion may be as empty as a bubble, vain and unprofitable to others and unhelpful to himself; idle, foolish, useless, trifling, thoughtless, wanton, irreverent, profane, for the word translated "idle" means all these things.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

Men will write for religion, fight for It, die for it; anything but live for it.

(W. Cotton.)

A man has no business to call himself a Christian unless the virtues of Christianity are in his life. I do not ask for degree, but I ask that they shall be there. If you have got a plant in a pot that for ten years, through summer and winter, sunshine and cloud, rain and dry, has never put out a leaf, nor shown the least symptom of life, what reason have you to believe that it is alive at all? It looks uncommonly like a bit of dead stick.

(A. Maclaren, D. D.)

It were a great mistake to consider this an authoritative, scientific definition of religion. The writer has been pointing out the marks of a useless religion. He now indicates the characteristics of any religion which is pure and spotless. Indeed, it might be written "any religion," which God sees to be pure and spotless, will have the characteristics of outward beneficence and inward purity. By a beautiful figure, he likens religion to a gem, a precious stone, the value of which depends upon the two qualities of —

1. Being clear through and through, without any inner malformation, and —

2. Being free from all stain or flaw on the outside. Positively, and as to its interior, it is clear and unclouded; negatively, and as to its exterior, it is spotless and flawless. Any religion which has these qualities is a true religion, and will produce purity and usefulness; and, whatever its pretensions, a religion destitute of these is worthless.

(C. F. Deems, D. D.)

In our day, perhaps more than at any previous time, attempts have been made to define religion, to give us some description of what religion is, of what is that mysterious element that mingles so largely with, and colours so largely, human life. Religion, says one, is the sense of the infinite overshadowing and influencing life. Religion, says another, is the determination of human life by the feeling of a bond uniting the human spirit to the mysterious spirit, whose domination over the world and himself he recognises, and to which he likes to feel himself united. Religion, says another, is the feeling of man, together with the activities, customs, and institutions springing out of that feeling concerning the relation in which he supposes himself to stand to the universe. These are some definitions of religion, culled almost at random, from modern speculative literature; and when we come from the sphere of philosophy to that of theology, and still more to that of Churchism, the definitions become almost countless. Religion in some quarters is retirement from the world to a monastery or a nunnery, and a monk or a nun is called by the distinctive name religious. The more ritual sects or Churches have called it religion, to observe devoutly and strictly certain prescribed rights and forms; and mere doctrinal sects have made religion consist in modes of belief, in holding certain opinions, in interpreting difficult passages of Scripture in a certain way. Now it is with something like a feeling of relief that one turns from all the carefully put together and logically constructed, and wonderfully polished definitions philosophical, ecclesiastical, and theological, to one like that in the text. It tells us that religion in its essence is twofold — it is charity and it is purity. On the one hand it is mercifulness, kindness, generosity in our dealings with others, as exemplified in the case of the widow and the afflicted; and on the other hand, as regards ourselves, it is purity of life in all its aspects. What has been called a "white soul" — a life without a stain, a life on which no shadow of dishonour rests, a life which, though led in the world, and perhaps in the busiest scenes of the world, is unspotted by the meanness and falsity and impurity found in the world. That, according to the text, is "pure religion and undefiled." Now, when we take that as a definition of what religion is, and when we hold it up before us, and look steadily at it, how do we feel regarding it?

1. Well, first, does not there come to us a sense of its supreme beauty? It is told of one of the best men of our time — a man who specially exemplified the ideal of the text on both its sideshow, travelling with a party up the Nile, his character produced a profound impression on the Arab attendants, and when one said of him to the Sheik or leader of the party that in his own country he was regarded somewhat as a heretic, his reply was, "He may be called what you like, he may not be a good Christian; I know not; but this I know, he is a good man." Such was the impression a character like this produced upon a Mahomedan of the desert, and such is the impression of beauty and reverence which a religious life of the kind indicated in the text is calculated to produce in time upon any mind in which a trace of goodness still lingers.

2. And close upon this thought of the beauty of religion there comes to one, in looking at the text, another and a second thought — namely, the permanence and durability of religion. We cannot conceive of a time, except, perhaps, in the final break up of society, when goodness shall not be esteemed as the highest form of human life, when charity and stainlessnes of character shall not be reverenced as the noblest expression which life can take, and the highest level to which human perfection can rise. Men may fall away from that ideal, they may run amuck in selfishness and sensuality, but they will never cease in their hearts to reverence it, and after their madness is past to come back to it again.

3. Take a third thought that the text suggests. If this be religion, how very wrong we all are in the standard and criterion we often apply in our judgment of others. We laugh when we read of the child asking her parent whether such a person is an irreligious man, a bad man, because he does not hide his face in his hat at the beginning of divine service. But are we much better ourselves? Is not our test often equally false, if not equally silly? We ask whether a man can be religious who does not hold this belief, who does not belong to this or that church? I believe it is far better not to judge our neighbours in this matter at all, for we will likely be wrong; but if we are impelled to form an opinion, let us take the measuring standard of the text and apply it. There is religion. How do they stand in this matter? I fear if you were to go through our professed religious people with a measuring rod of this kind, many of them would fall very far short, and many of them would be out of the reckoning altogether. If any of you are to judge of a fruit-tree growing in your garden, what method will you take to do so? Will you bore holes into it, and see whether the sap is running, and whether the inner bark is green, or will you uncover the roots and see whether they have a firm hold, and whether they are rightly spread where the moisture lies; or will you take note of the fruit that it produces in autumn? The last way is the better way, whatever may be said in favour of the former methods; but that is not the way most men take in pronouncing an opinion as to whether a man is religious or not, and there are very few who do not think themselves perfectly qualified to sit in judgment.

4. Once more, does not the text give us an idea of a comprehensive, wide-spread Catholic Church? It was said of a distinguished ecclesiastic — the remembrance of whom still lingers in the hearts of those who knew him, like a strain of sweet music — it was said of him that he was a clergyman of the Church of England and an honorary member of all other Churches. The words were uttered in contempt, and were thought by some to be a piece of irony, and of refined and scornful wit; but, to my mind, no higher tribute could be paid, for they tell how he based his idea of religion, essentially not upon dogma or rite, but upon goodness, and drew to all in whom goodness could be found as spirits, kindred with himself. I do not know myself anything that brings one more truly to the gospel than this definition of religion. Take the first half of it — charity, or, as it is put here in a strong form, "visiting the fatherless and widows in their affection." Can such a life as that be carried out — except in a very spasmodic way — without a strong internal spiritual impulse, like that which comes from Christ. It is hard to raise charity from men who do not feel such an impulse. You might as well raise water from a pump without a valve. You work the piston of persuasion and push the water up, but there is no valve, and it straightway flows down again. I do not think anything can produce a life dedicated to humanity, but a self-dedication to that Christ who identified Himself with it, the strong impulse that comes from personal self-consecration to Him who "bore our sins and carried our sorrows." Or take the other half of this text — Keeping one's self unspotted from the world. How hard it is for any one to do that. How hopeless the work seems to any one who tries steadily to do that. To conquer old habits, and to put down passions by philosophy, is like trying to put out a fire with a scanty supply of water or a small hose. I believe if we would "walk in white," we must find our hidden life in Christ, through whom we can find a sense of forgiveness for the past, and strength for the time to come. Now, I may speak to some one here who has drifted, or who thinks he has drifted, away from Christianity. I hold up to him this idea of religion, "pure and undefiled." Unless he has fallen away from goodness, as well as from Christ, he must acknowledge its perfection and its beauty.

(J. C. Lees, D. D.)

I. The virtue of BENEVOLENCE is here described by one of its most interesting and incumbent exercises. There is no description of persons who have a stronger claim on the tender compassions of our nature than those here specified — the widow and the orphan. It is deserving of special remark how frequently and how strongly God represents them as engaging His sympathies — how explicit and peremptory His charges are in their behalf, and how full of pointed force and heavy severity His denunciations against their oppressors (Psalm 68:5; Deuteronomy 10:18; Proverbs 23:10, 11; Exodus 22:22-24). If we fancy ourselves, or any dear to us, placed by Divine providence in the conditions referred to, we are powerfully sensible how much we should value the soothing sympathy and the kind attentions of friends and fellow Christians, and how deeply we should be wounded were these to be withheld. The more strongly we are sensible of this, the more imperative does the obligation that rests upon us become in behalf of those whom the Lord has afflicted. That He afflicted them is no reason why we should. Instead of its being a time when we are to keep aloof, and to affliction to the afflicted, it is a time when we are to hear the voice of Him whose very nature is love, enjoining by His providence and by His word the exercise of sympathy and kindness. The terms of the text suggest the lesson that our benevolence must not be mere emotion — no, nor mere words, or mere regrets, and sighs, and tears. Benevolence must be evinced by beneficence. Well-wishing must manifest its sincerity by well-doing. It is not in word only, but in deed. "It visits the fatherless and widows in their affliction." I need not say that to "visit" is to visit for the purpose of consolation and relief. It is quite obvious that under the term "visiting" there ought to be included all that we have it in our power to do for them: all for which visiting is of any real service. And surely there is no visitation of the fatherless and the widow more truly benevolent than that of which the object is to impart to them the consolations, the joys, the hopes of the very religion itself, by whose principles we are ourselves actuated in paying the visits.

II. The second part of practical religion, "pure and undefiled," contained in the text, is "to keep himself unspotted from the world." To this we give the general designation of SELF-GOVERNMENT. The style in which it is expressed is quite peculiar to the Scriptures. In this sacred book God and the world are invariably set in opposition to each other; as masters of opposite characters and opposite requirements, whose services can never be reconciled. The expression may be interpreted as including the whole of Christian purity of character. God is holy. All the precepts of God are holy; and all His truths, containing the manifestations of Himself and the motives to this purity, are holy. Purity is the first and most essential attribute of whatever comes from Him who "is Light, and in whom there is no darkness at all." But the world — the fallen, apostate, alien world — is in its maxims, and principles, and ways, opposed to the purity of God. It is polluting; it is infectious. It is hard to keep white robes clean in passing through the midst of all that is defiling. It is hard to shun contagion amidst crowds infected with the plague. Such, however, in a moral and spiritual sense, must be the Christian's daily and hourly endeavour. With such circumspection, jealous and incessant, is he called to walk. He must "have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness." He must "cleanse himself from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God." He must, in every department of his walk and conversation, seek to make it to all apparent that, although in the world, he is not of the world.

III. Let me now guard against prevailing and injurious MISCONCEPTIONS by one or two general observations.

1. Let not the two parts of pure and undefiled religion be separated. They too often are. There are men many a time to be found who are very humane, but who are by no means patterns of personal purity or separation from the world. They found their confidence before God on their charity as the means of pacifying His anger and conciliating His good-will, and rendering Him, if not blind altogether to their vices and their self-indulgent worldliness, at least very indulgent to them, and very gentle in His verdict against them. Men of humanity, without religion, may, no doubt, do good by the direct influence of their liberality on the temporal comfort and well-being of others. But they contribute as directly to an opposite result, in regard to interests of a higher order — the spiritual and eternal interests of men. And what is the body to the soul? — what is time to eternity? — "what is the chaff to the wheat? saith the Lord." And even where there is not open licentiousness, where there is only a mind that seeks its happiness in the world, the character is, in one view, the more dangerous from there being the less in it that does violence to the moral principles, whilst yet there is in all so lamentable a deficiency, the destitution of the hallowing and consecrating influence of piety. The mind is almost unconsciously deceived into the impression that religion is not essential to a good character. Everything appears to go on so amiably and usefully, and, on the whole, well and happily, without it. Oh that I could impress you all, deeply, permanently, influentially, with the conviction of the radical defectiveness of all principles that do not begin with God.

2. That neither the benevolence nor the purity enjoined by the text should be separated from those Christian principles of faith by which they are produced and maintained. Scriptural faith is faith that produces practice; scriptural practice is practice that springs from faith. It is with the extreme that talks of faith, to the overlooking of practice, that James has here to do. This is clear from vers. 21-26, It will not do to divorce morality from religion. The principles of religion are the only principles of true morality. They form, indeed, themselves the first and highest branch of morals; the obligation that arises from our relation to God Himself being, in the strictest sense and strongest degree, of a moral character. And as all Bible morality is founded in religion, let it not be forgotten that the Bible is a revelation of God to sinners; and that the religion of a sinner must necessarily regard God as so revealed. And this is the same thing with saying that the religion of a sinner must begin with the humble acceptance of mercy, as it is made known and offered by the gospel.

(R. Wardlaw, D. D.)

The Christian religion is eminently "good-will towards men"; for, like its Divine Author, it breathes a spirit of universal benevolence. The benefits which it proclaims are for the whole human race — benefits which respect as well the present as the future world. We are not to understand the apostle as proposing morality to us in the abstract, but as enforcing upon our attention the necessity of personal purity and practical piety, from the acknowledged principles of our profession. Consequently it will not be either improper or unprofitable to offer in the first instance —

I. Some observations connected with THE MOTIVES AND OBLIGATIONS OF CHRISTIAN DUTY, with especial reference to the two comprehensive duties of benevolence and self-government, described in the text. God is love. tits tender mercies are over all His works. Whether we trace the character of the high and lofty One in the works of nature or in the dispensation of grace, the same benevolent trait of the Deity everywhere meets our view. "What return shall we make unto the Lord for all His benefits?" To present themselves "a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God," they acknowledge to be "a reasonable service." Hence their most earnest desires are that they may be holy, even as God is holy; that they may be preserved "blameless and harmless, the sons of God without rebuke, in the midst of a perverse and crooked generation." And hope supports them in their conflict with every enemy of their peace, and, in faith of the promises, they anticipate the glory that shall be revealed. But, besides motives of personal holiness, there are others also which influence our conduct as respects the world at large. Thus, both individually and collectively, the benign power of the gospel is exerted. The Christian reasons, "If God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." This life we know is only a preparation for a better, and accordingly as we shall have performed our parts well or ill here to our brethren that are in the world, so will our reward be hereafter. Thus we see that our own best, our immortal interests, are inseparably connected with those duties of sympathy and charity which we owe to our less fortunate brethren. Not, indeed, that our benevolent actions, or works of any other description, possess any innate value to recommend us to the favour of God, much less to merit a reward from Him: yet a reward of grace shall be given to them who, actuated by the principles of their Divine Master, have in their generation, after His example, gone about doing good. The foregoing remarks naturally lead to a further consideration, viz., that of —

II. PRACTICE THE TEST OF RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. Motives of duty implies duties to be performed. It sufficiently appears that the whole of Christian duty is not comprised in a system of opinions, nor in the mere observance of external ceremonies. Our Saviour hath Himself laid down a distinguishing mark, equally applicable to both true and false disciples (Matthew 7:20, 21). Now, one essential requisite of pure and undefiled religion the text informs us is —

1. "To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction." A mind truly touched with heavenly influence will lead us to view with eyes of pity and compassion all the sons and daughters of affliction, to enter into their sorrows, and to pour into their wounds the balm of consolation. And sure I am that the humblest Christian will rejoice to have it in his power to contribute to the alleviation of the common misery.

2. "To keep himself unspotted from the world." My brethren, the whole world lieth in wickedness. "The carnal mind is enmity against God; it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be" (Romans 8:7); "The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth" (Genesis 8:21); "That which is born of the flesh is flesh" (John 3:6). Now examine yourselves by the test here proposed. Inquire what are your real characters in the sight of the holy, heart-searching God. Does your sympathy for the distressed spring only from natural feeling? or are you also actuated by Christian principles and motives in visiting the fatherless and widows in their affliction?

(T. Sharpies, B. A.)

I. It is here asserted that religion, in order to be pleasing and acceptable unto God, must exhibit itself in acts of SYMPATHISING KINDNESS AND COMPASSION towards those who are placed in circumstances of helplessness, difficulty, and distress. As all these manifestations of benevolence could not be enumerated, they are represented by the apostle under one prominent form — that of visiting the fatherless and widows in their affliction, thus presenting a case of affliction, and an occasion for kindness, from which no age of the world and no condition of society can be altogether exempt. He knew that other losses might be more easily compensated; that other sorrows might with less difficulty be soothed; that other bereavements would leave less of helplessness and loneliness behind them. He knew that the loss of property might be repaired by liberality, industry, and perseverance; that the loss of health was not invariably without its remedy; but that the loss of the fatherless and the widow would necessarily leave a vacuum which nothing could adequately supply. It is to the alleviation of this peculiar form of affliction, therefore/that the energies and the sympathies of the pure and undefiled religion of Him who cherished every form of social and domestic tenderness, who made little children the objects of His most gracious regard, and manifested towards His mother a most filial and watchful attention, are to be specially directed. In this amiable feature of its character, indeed, Christianity stands honourably distinguished from all the other forms and theories of religion which have ever prevailed in the world. It is the pure and undefiled, the compassionate and godlike religion of Jesus Christ alone, which has taught men their duty in this respect, as well as supplied them with adequate motives to the practice of it. It is this alone which has taught its professors to regard the whole human species, amidst all the diversity of its ranks, and pursuits, and conditions, as one great family. It has thus unsealed the great fountains of human sympathy and tenderness, which had hitherto been in a great degree locked up in the unconscious ignorance of our obligations, or concealed beneath the frost of selfishness.

II. But, in connection with the exercise of sympathetic kindness and practical benevolence, the apostle subjoins another essential constituent of pure and undefiled religion — that it maintains A CHARACTER UNSTAINED BY THOSE VARIOUS FORMS OF MORAL AND SPIRITUAL POLLUTION, with which the atmosphere of the present world is so deeply impregnated. Christian charity must not be less pure than generous; though she is in the world, she must not be of the world; though she blesses the earth with her presence, her origin is from heaven, and she must never forget the high and holy motives by which she is to be actuated. Like the sunbeam, she must illumine the darkest recesses of ignorance and vice without being contaminated by the contact; she must warm the desolate abodes of poverty without kindling into pride and self-righteousness; she must dispense her blessings with an open hand, and yet ascribe all the glory to that Father of lights, from whom cometh down every good and perfect gift; she must be willing, as occasion requires and her strength allows, to mingle in scenes from which the eye of taste and the sensibilities of worldly refinement, which have net been trained in the discipline of Christian humility and self-denial, would recoil; and yet she must be "as the wings of a dove, which are covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold." But this exemption from the predominent sway and the polluting influence of the world, as contradistinguished from true and scriptural piety, is not only necessary as the concomitant of pure religion in general, but it is also indispensable to the due exercise of the duty previously inculcated. The spirit of Christian benevolence and the spirit of the world are diametrically opposed to each other. Where every effort of labour and science and art is directed with such intense energy to the main end of multiplying and accumulating wealth, it requires a more than ordinary measure of watchfulness and prayer — of the generous, and effusive, and constraining influence of the love of Christ shed abroad in the heart, to keep it untainted by the contracting and indurating spirit of covetousness and grasping selfishness. Whatever has a tendency to concentrate the thoughts and feelings upon self, and to make the enjoyment of personal gratification the great business of life, must inevitably impede the free and spontaneous development of that great and diffusive principle of Christian love. Amidst the various trials and sufferings which are more or less inseparable from the present state of existence, she unfolds to their view a world where sin and sorrow are unknown; a world whose atmosphere is health, whose resources are exhaustless, whose pleasures are untainted, and whose honours are unfading; a world in which there are neither fatherless nor widows, because all earthly unions and relations have been lost and absorbed in the delightful fellowship of one great family, of "which God Himself is the Father, Jesus Christ the Elder Brother, and the eternal Spirit the all-pervading bond of holy and affectionate communion.

(J. Davies, B.D.)

The name of religion has perhaps been as much misapplied as the thing itself has been neglected. Creeds and systems of doctrine, outward observances and forms of service, conventionalisms in the use of meats and drinks, apparel, and modes of speech, have all among different parties been dignified by the name of religion. The primary cause of the mistake is to be found in the sensuous tendencies of the sinful heart; but a secondary cause, worthy of attention, consists in not keeping distinctly in view the character and gracious relations of that glorious Being with whom religion is immediately concerned. The religion described in the text is, as it were, a continuous spiritual worship, presented, in the harmonious working of renewed emotions and their consequent actions, to our God and Father in Christ.

I. THE FIRST OUTWARD MARK OF RELIGION MENTIONED BY THE APOSTLE IS BENEFICENCE. We use this word to denote the sincere and active exercise of love toward our fellow men. The connection of such love with those emotions towards God in which religion more immediately consists is best expounded in 1 John 4:16, 20. But such beneficence admits of degrees, from the easy donation of sixpence out of the accumulations of prosperous trade up to the willingly laying "down our lives for the brethren." It may be doubted, therefore, what kind and what particular motive even of beneficence is enough to satisfy the question before us. To anticipate this difficulty, the apostle lays hold of one of its most real and impressive practical displays. "To visit," says he, "the fatherless and the widow in their affliction."

1. Religious beneficence addresses itself to the most necessitous objects. While impure beneficence, adulterated with an admixture of selfish policy, prefers a case of smaller to one of greater affliction, that which is sound at the core, and really springs from the presence of Divine love, contemplates affliction as such, and is impelled by the greatest force of desire to that wherein it finds the extremest need. Claims arising from duty to God may sometimes modify this feeling, but regard to worldly interest or convenience, never.

2. Religious beneficence especially singles out those objects which the worldly mind is disposed to despise. A poor widow is not unfrequintly like a queen dowager forsaken by the sycophant courtiers that formerly sunned themselves in the beams of her glory. The names of charity schools and charity children have passed into terms of reproach. Among all the evidences of human degeneracy this is perhaps the most widespread and manifest, that power is adored and goodness is despised. There is, therefore, a striking singularity in the conduct of the man who seeks out the fatherless and widows in their affliction. Our natural impression at once is that a Divine flame of love has been kindled in his heart, and that he is made a partaker of the nature of Him who, in the immensity of His glorious winks, has distinguished Himself by the unveiling of His goodness and the hiding of His power.

3. Religious beneficence expresses itself in personal effort and sacrifice. It is only an easy kind of beneficence when the rich give of their abundance to the relief of the poor, or where the eloquent on stated public occasions before listening thousands raise their voices on behalf of the fatherless. A feeble pulsation of love is all that is required for such benefactions. A better proof of its power is to be found in personal effort and sacrifice, or in the doing of that which is felt to be irksome in itself. Howard, descending into the depths of dungeons, placing himself in contact with the abandoned and the outcast, breathing the tainted air, of which he at length died, was an illustrious living embodiment of what the apostle has in view. Those who in such loving sympathies are seen bending over the beds of sickness and cheering with their presence the home of sorrow and want are truly ministering angels, and present the nearest approach to that Divine love which, as a pure and glorious atmosphere, invests the regions of the heavenly paradise.

II. THE SECOND GREAT SIGN OF TRUE RELIGION MENTIONED BY THE APOSTLE IS PERSONAL PURITY OR HOLINESS, EXPRESSED IN THE WORDS, "TO KEEP HIMSELF UNSPOTTED FROM THE WORLD." This may be regarded as the natural outworking of love to God, just as beneficence is more directly that of love to mankind. "If ye love Me," says the Saviour," keep My commandments." "Whoso," says John, "keepeth His word, in him verily is the love of God perfected." On the one side is God, the sovereign Creator and Ruler of all things, holy in all His works and righteous in all His ways, most justly demanding the worship and service of men formed originally in His own image and sustained continually by His bounteous care. On the other side is the rebellious human race, sunk in sin, estranged from its Creator, conspiring with Satan, its actual god, against His law and government, and forming in its godless spirit, its selfish maxims, and its bondage to flesh and sense, the world, which bids Him defiance. "To be kept," therefore, "from the world," and "not to be of the world," are expressions which denote an entire renunciation of all that belongs to its spirit and its relation to God — purity, that is, from its sins. The term "unspotted" seems to imply a notion of the word as something not only evil in itself, but also as being apt to contaminate those who are merely passing through it. As if the society of ungodly men were like a murky, polluting atmosphere, such as often envelopes our great cities, from which small particles of defilement are continually falling in silence on the objects below, and insensibly changing the brightest colours into those most nearly allied to blackness. Obviously in such circumstances the greatest care is necessary in order to keep one's self unspotted, not only by using means of protection, but also by observing regular seasons of cleansing. The world most fully presents this danger to the followers of Christ. The spirit which breathes in their necessary intercourse with society, the occasional excitement of sinful feelings by the provocations to which they are subject, the impressions continually made on their senses, and the secularising tendency even of their own lawful business, all conspire to damp the ardour of their spiritual life and to tarnish the lustre of their graces. Few Christians are absolutely without spots. But to be able in any fair measure, by the blessing of God or the use of means, to keep one's self unspotted from the contaminations of our age, is identical with a consistent and blameless Christian life.

(J. M. Charlton, M. A.)

At first sight this text looks had. It seems subversive of all our theologics, and ethics also. The fact is, this text of ours is in no respect the simple formula of definition it looks like. It has a profound start, and takes a prodigious reach.

I. "Pure religion and undefiled." Stop, now, just there. The first proposition found in the verses is this: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE TRUE PERSONAL RELIGION FOR THE HUMAN SOUL.

1. Some argue for a mere intellectual scheme of belief. They would rest everything upon a certain fixed group of articles of faith and practice. The Christian religion has a creed of doctrines, and has a code of morals; but it is a life.

2. Some persistently press a mere poetic scheme of humane sympathy. It begins with a sigh, "Oh, I wish I could be good!" It continues with a song, "Nearer, my God, to Thee!" But it feels no sense of sin, and confesses none; so it generally rejects need of an atonement.

3. Some would urge upon us a mere routine scheme of ritual. This is little more than sentiment become artistic, devotion transmuted into devoteeism.

4. Some seek to present us with an ascetic scheme of moral observance. Of course, at its highest development, this ends in the cell of a hermit, and the white veil of a nun. But as we meet it in ordinary life, it goes not much farther than an iron rule of obedience to precept, and a strict treasuring of tradition.

5. Some insist on a scheme of mere philanthropy and benevolence. If such people knew there was a verse like ours in the Bible, they would flaunt it as the very motto on their banner — till they learned what it meant.

II. How is a man to choose? Who shall decide when all differ so? "Pure religion, and undefiled before God and the Father, is this." The next proposition may be stated thus: THE STANDARD OF REFERENCE, UP TO WHICH ALL RELIGION MUST BE BROUGHT, IS DIVINE.

1. It will not do to settle it by the opinion of others.

2. Nor will it do that one's religion be settled by himself. Any one can easily make a foolish mistake, just by thinking more highly of himself than he ought to think, and so be lost.

3. All this matter must be, and certainly will be, settled by God's opinion, and none other whatsoever.

III. We are ready to read on now somewhat further in the text. "Pure religion, and undefiled before God and the Father, is this: To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction." That is enough, and the new thought runs thus: THE TEST OF ALL TRUE PERSONAL RELIGION MAY BE FOUND IN CARE FOR THE WEAK AND LONELY.

1. The subjects of Christian charity mentioned here are typal as well as specific. Out of all classes of feeble people, the unprotected, and the helpless, God has chosen for our notice widows and orphans. The most trying condition in this world is brought to mind. A lonely mother, with fatherless children, is not only a living appeal for assistance and succour, but a thorough and exhaustive type, by which to teach the lesson that a true man's piety must be tested by the care he accepts for others.

2. But when is this duty binding? That brings out the occasion. The text says, "In their affliction," that is, in the time of it and in the place of it. Our help must be given when our help is needed. Consider times of narrowness, of panic, of business depression, as offering special occasion.

3. The method of bestowing help is all found in one word of the text, "visit." That cannot mean mere contribution of money; it means personal contact with those we hope to benefit. The one grand obstacle to all proper endeavour is found at the present day in the actual withdrawal of living heart from living heart in mutual acquaintance and interest.

4. But how far in such matters is one expected really to go? That inquiry is answered in our text also; the measure of obligation is quite clear. The significant lesson is taught us that religion is to be tested by feeling for the fatherless, and the feeling is to be measured by the fatherhood of God!

IV. Only on one condition can this ever be done; this is found in the final clause of the text. PERSONAL, RELIGION DEMANDS THE ENTIRE SURRENDER AND SEPARATION OF THE SOUL TO CHRIST. "Unspotted from the world." Oh, how much that means! No self; no waiting for applause; no expectation of return; all this is of the world, worldly, and the true religion will have none of it. Of course, then, we all see this entire verse is addressed to Christians. Only thus can it be counted a definition. The text says that religion, "pure and undefiled," is for a converted man; for an unconverted man it says nothing. Humanitarianism has nothing it does not borrow from religion. Success in all its enterprises would be secured better the moment the soul of the worker puts on Christ as a penitent believer. And he who puts on Christ, puts on also the burden of Christ.

(C. S. Robinson, D. D.)

It is a paradox, and yet it is perfectly true, that man is not justified by works, and yet that man is not justified without works.

I. BETWEEN OBEDIENCE AND FAITH THERE SUBSISTS AN INSEPARABLE CONNECTION,

II. OBEDIENCE IS THE REQUISITE EVIDENCE OF FAITH. It is the one evidence. And, moreover, this is the evidence by which the world will judge. We sometimes hear the ungodly babbling they know not what about Christian doctrine, and affirming that there is so much obscure, and so much mysterious, that they cannot separate that which is practical and intelligible. But we very seldom indeed find that they bring any accusation at all against a benevolent, painstaking, self-denying, active life.

(S. Robins, M. A.)

I. TRUE RELIGION IS THE DIVINE SPRING OF PURE THOUGHT AND ACTION. As a watch is moved by its spring, so our actions are moved by the force of our inward belief. It is, therefore, of the highest importance to have true and inspiring faith, like that of a minister of the seventeenth century, when he said that "the first act of religion is to know what is true of God, the second act is to express it in our lives."

II. TRUE RELIGION IS AN INWARD FORCE OR YEARNING FOR PERSONAL PURITY. It is the birth and existence of a cleansing spirit within us.

III. TRUE RELIGION IS THE FLOWING OF GOD'S LOVE THROUGH US TO ALL MEN WITH WHOM WE HAVE TO DO.

(W. Birch.)

I. "TO VISIT THE FATHERLESS AND WIDOWS," THAT IS, TO BE PLENTEOUS IN GOOD WORKS; "THESE ARE THE VERY BEGINNINGS AND NURSERY OF THE LOVE OF GOD."

1. There is no surer and readier step to the love of God, "whom we have not seen," than by the love of our brethren, "whom we see" (1 John 4:20).

2. As compassion to our brethren is a fair preparation to purity of life, so doth purity of conversation commend our liberality, and make it to be had in remembrance in the sight of the Lord. It may be bread, it is not an alms, that is brought by the hand of an oppressor or a Pharisee.

3. Therefore, in the next place, as they bear this fair correspondence, and mutually uphold each other, so we must not think it possible to separate them. Both are required at our hands; and if God hath joined them both together, let no man take upon him to divorce or put them asunder.

II. For, in the next place, THESE TWO THUS LINKED AND UNITED TOGETHER WILL KEEP RELIGION "PURE AND UNDEFILED"; which are as the colours and beauty of it, "the beauty of holiness," which hath its colour and grace from whence it hath its being and strength, and, if it be true, will shine in "the perfection of beauty." "Religion, if it be true, and not a name only, is as a virgin pure and undefiled, and maketh us so, and espouseth us to Christ." So is true religion, simple and solid, full of itself, having no heterogeneous matter, but ever the same, and about the same. There is nothing in our love which soureth our justice, nothing in our justice to kill our compassion, nothing in our liberality to defile our chastity, nothing in our fear to beat down our confidence, nothing in our zeal to consume our charity. "A true religious man is always himself." And as religion is "pure," without mixture, so it is "undefiled," and cannot subsist with pollution and pro. faneness. "Now are our Olympics, now is the great trial" to be made "before God and the Father." And our religion consisteth in this, "to fight it out legally" (2 Timothy 2:5); a condition they were bound to who were admitted to those games and exercises.

III. And now I have showed you the picture of religion in little, represented it to you in these two, doing of good, and abstaining from evil; filling the hungry with good things, and purging and emptying ourselves of all uncleanness. You have seen its beauty in its graceful and glorious colours of purity and undefiledness; a picture to be hung up in the Church, nay, before God Himself. And THUS IT APPEARETH "BEFORE GOD AND THE FATHER," AND HATH ITS RATIFICATION FROM HIM. Application:

1. This may serve, first, to make us in love with this religion, because it hath such a Founder as "God the Father," who is wisdom itself, and can neither be deceived, nor deceive us.

2. Again, if St. James be canonical and authentic, if this be true religion, then it will make up an answer sufficient to stop the mouth of those of the Romish party who are very busy to demand at our hands a catalogue of fundamentals, and where our Church was before the days of Reformation. Do the ask what truths are fundamental? Faith supposed, as it is here, they are — charity to ourselves and others. "To know this, is to know all we need to know." For is it not sufficient to know that which is sufficient to make us happy? But if nothing will satisfy them but a catalogue of particulars, "they have Moses and the prophets" (Luke 16:29); they have the apostles; and if they find their fundamentals not there, in vain shall they seek for them at our hands.

3. To conclude then. Men and brethren, are these things so? Is this only true religion — to do good, and to abstain from evil? If this should take place amongst the sons of men, we should have more religion and less noise. Could this religion, could the gospel of Christ prevail; could we "deny ourselves and take up the cross," and "keep ourselves unspotted from the world," there would be then no "wars, nor rumours of wars." Let us not deceive ourselves. It is the neglect and want of this that hath been the main cause of all the hot contentions which have been, and aa yet are, in the Church of Christ; I mean, amongst those who call one another "Christians"; whose mark and badge it is "to love one another."

(A. Farindon, B. D.)

1. It is the glory of religion when it is pure. The true Christian religion is called "a holy faith" (Jude 1:20). No faith goeth so high for rewards, nor is so holy for precepts. Well, then, an impure life will not suit with a holy faith. Precious liquor must be kept in a clean vessel, and "the mystery of the faith" held "in a pure conscience" (1 Timothy 3:9). We never suit with our religion more than when the way is undefiled and the heart pure (Psalm 119:1; Matthew 5:9).

2. That a pure religion should be kept undefiled. A holy life and a bounteous heart are ornaments to the gospel. Religion is not adorned with ceremonies, but purity and charity.

3. A great fruit and token of piety is provision for the afflicted. In Matthew 25. you see acts of charity fill up the bill. Works of mercy do well become them that do expect or have received mercy from God.

4. Charity singleth out the objects that are most miserable. That is true bounty when we give to those that are not able to make requital (Luke 14:12-14).

5. This charity to the poor must be performed as worship, out of respect to God. The apostle saith to visit the fatherless is worship. A Christian hath a holy art of turning duties of the second table into duties of the first; and in respect to man, they worship God. "To do good, and to communicate, forget not; for with such sacrifice God is well pleased" (Hebrews 13:16). Well, then, alms should be sacrifice; not a sin-offering, but a thank-offering to God.

6. True religion and profession is rather for God's eye than man's. It aimeth at the approbation of God, not ostentation before men (Psalm 18:23).

7. We serve God most comfortably when we consider Him as a Father in Christ. We are not servants, but have received the adoption of sons. Get an interest in God, that His work may be sweet to you.

8. The relieving of the afflicted and the unspotted life must go together.

9. The world is a dirty, defiling thing. A man can hardly walk here but he shall defile his garments.(1) The very things of the world leave a taint upon our spirits. By worldly objects we soon grow worldly. It is hard to touch pitch and not to be defiled.(2) The lusts of the world, they stain the glory and deface the excellency of your natures (2 Peter 1:4). (Your affections were made for higher purposes than to be melted out in lusts.) The men of the world are sooty, dirty creatures. We cannot converse with them but they leave their filthiness upon us.

(T. Manton.)

1. In His law and gospel the Lord requireth this duty of love and service to be done, to whom seeing we are infinitely indebted, we herein must be obedient.

2. The remembrance of our frailty, fickleness of our worldly condition, must move to charity; for such as are rich to-day may be poor to-morrow.

3. That we are members each of each other, and all members of one body; might it not move us to mutual succour?

4. If we require example, God is rich in mercy and in all goodness; He giveth abundantly to all men, and reproacheth none.

5. If we look for a president, our Saviour Christ is our Pattern, who laid down His life for us, that we should lay down our lives (much more our goods) for the brethren.

6. If reward may allure us, we have not only therefore promise of increase and multiplying our store here, as we see was performed to the widow of Sarepta, but also of eternal blessing.

7. If punishment may terrify us, then let us recount that as God promiseth exceeding great reward, both temporal and eternal, to the merciful, so He threateneth grievous punishment, both in this life and in the life to come, to the merciless, which thing should move us.

8. If we consider that by the apostle is set down as a property and effect of true religion, without which our religion is but counterfeiting, our holiness but halting, our devotion but dissimulation before God, thereby shall we be stirred up to this duty.

9. Finally, we shall be better moved hereunto, if we shall consider that we are only stewards of these goods, and that they are committed to us upon trust.

(R. Turnbull.)

The reference is to the externals of religious worship, the cultus exterior, the ceremonial, the ritual of worship. St. James throws into contrast the old law with its gorgeous and imposing exhibitions, with the humble simplicity of the gospel, and the self-denying duties it enjoins. If religion needs a ritual, an outside by which its highest and holiest service may be made manifest, let all that is external be evidenced in the visiting of orphans and widows in the hour of their woe and want, and in a holy separation from the defilements of a wicked world.

(F. T. Bassett, M. A.)

I. WHAT IS MEANT BY VISITING THE FATHERLESS AND WIDOWS IN THEIR AFFLICTION.

1. The objects of our charity; the fatherless and widows in their affliction; in any want or distress wherein they need and are capable of our assistance.

2. The charitable act we are to exercise towards them who are in want or distress.

II. THIS IS A NECESSARY AND PRINCIPAL PART, AND A SIGNAL TESTIMONY, OF TRUE RELIGION. Mercy and charity are those duties which the gospel, the rule of our religion, doth in. a most earnest and especial manner require and press the performance of (1 Timothy 1:5: 1 Corinthians 13:13; 1 Peter 4:8; Hebrews 13:16; Luke 3:8; Matthew 5:7; James 2:13; 1 Timothy 6:17-19). Other exercises of religion can be of no value in the sight of God, where this duty of charity is neglected. What an affront must it be to God to pretend to join in prayers to Him for those who are in trouble, need, sickness, or any other adversity, if He hath put it in our own power to relieve them, and we will not! What mockery is it to come and sit before God as His people, and to hear His word, if covetousness hath so possessed our hearts that we have no regard to the most plain and express commands of it! The vanity and inefficacy of all such religious exercises, without charity, is most frequently asserted in Holy Scripture (Isaiah 1:11, 12, 17, 18; Isaiah 58:6, 7, 9). The great ends of religion, the glory of God, the good of His people here, and the disposing us for heaven hereafter, are most highly promoted by charity, and therefore it must be a principal part of it.

III. IT IS A SINGULAR TESTIMONY OF TRUE RELIGION, AND WHAT IT OBLIGETH ALL SORTS OF MEN TO; TO TAKE PARTICULAR CARE OF THE FATHERLESS CHILDREN AND WIDOWS OF GOD'S MINISTERS IN THEIR AFFLICTION, AND TO HAVE A MORE SPECIAL REGARD TO THEM IN THE EXERCISE OF THEIR CHARITY.

(L. Butler, D. D.)

Dr. Guthrie whispered to me, as the children left the class, "Do you see that golden-haired boy with full face and laughing eyes? Let me tell you his story"; and as we descended he continued, "You see," he said, "that splendid boy had followed his mother to the grave; and being friendless and shelterless, he returned when night fell and stretched himself on the grave, contented if he might but die. Next morning he was found half frozen to death. His little hands were frozen as cold as those of his dead mother or the earth on which he lay. If you had only seen him! Yes, it is a noble work which God has given us to do."

(Robert Koenig.)

A boy, naked, his heart in his hand, giving honey to a bee that has lost its wings. How beautiful and how suggestive!

(A. T. Pierson, D. D.)

A gentleman, near London, went to visit a woman who was sick. As he was going into room, he saw a little girl kneeling by the side of the poor woman's bed. The little girl rose from her knees as soon as she saw the gentleman, and went out of the room. "Who is that child?" the gentleman asked. "Oh, sir!" said the sick woman, "that is a little angel, who often comes to read her Bible to me, to my great comfort; and she has just now given me sixpence." The gentleman was so pleased with the little girl's conduct, theft he wished to know how she had learned to love the Word of God and to be so kind to poor people. Finding that she was one of the scholars of a neighbouring Sunday school, he went to the school, and asked for the child. She felt rather afraid when she was called to the gentleman; but he was very kind to her, and asked her if she was the little girl that had been to read the Bible to the sick woman. She said she was. The gentleman said, '"My dear, what made you think of doing so?" She answered, "Because, sir, I find it is said in the Bible, that 'pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this — to visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction.'" "Well," said he, "and did you give her any money?" "Yes, sir." "And where did you get it?" "Sir, it was given me as a reward."

(K. Arvine.)

In these large and noble words we find some traces of Jewish training and habits of thought. For when we read "Pure and undefiled ritualism is to visit orphans and widows in their affliction," we instantly recognise a Jewish tone of thought and speech. Among the Jews, as among most Oriental races of the ancient world, widows and orphans were of all classes the most liable to plunder and oppression. Their inheritance was often filched from them under forms of law, now that they bad no strong arm to protect them, by an unjust judge whom they were unable to bribe, or even forcibly wrested from them by some rapacious kinsman or neighbour. Hence it was that the prophets constituted themselves the champions of the defenceless orphan and widow, denounced the curse of Heaven on all who wronged them, and even, by a bold figure of speech, declared God Himself to be the Husband of the widow and the Father of the fatherless. St. James, therefore, simply carries on the Hebrew tradition when he bids us, as part of the service, or worship, we owe to God, "visit orphans and widows in their affliction."

(Almoni Peloni.)

The very word "visit" has a Hebrew twang in it. For, to the Jew, this word meant more than to us. God visited His people when He redeemed them from bondage, or gave them abundance for want, joy for mourning. God visited Job when he cleansed him from his leprosy and gave him "twice as much as he had before." And, in like manner, we visit orphans and widows, in St. James' sense of the word, not when we call upon them, or say a few kind words to them, which cost us nothing, but when we defend them from insult or wrong, when we effectively minister to their wants or comfort them in their sorrow.

(Almoni Peloni.)

Just as the rosebud which refuses to unfold its petals, rots at the heart and dies, while the bud which bursts into blossom and scatters fragrance all around is healthy, and beautiful, and strong; so the man who lives to himself, dies while he lives; but the man who, forgetful of self, lives for the good and happiness of others, finds in his very unselfishness, health, and peace, and joy. In the great world around us, the sparrow gives nothing to God, yet day by day God cares for the sparrow. The worm and the insect give nothing back to God, yet God never forgets them. What is the lesson? Surely it is this, viz., that it is Godlike to work for another's good, never looking for or expecting anything in return.

(A. C. Price, B. A.)

A story is told, in the "Annals of the Round Table," of a knight who set out to find the Holy Grail Forth from the castle gate rode the knight, filled with his lofty purpose, having no eyes or ears for the common things about him, and giving no heed to the grey-bearded beggar that lay asking alms. Forth he went, and began to do many wonderful works. His sword wrought prodigies of valour, in gloomy woods by robbers' strongholds, in wild mountains where the dragons lay. But he never saw the holy vision, the reward of God's true knight. Then, spirit-broken, he gave up the quest as hopeless, and rode wearily homeward. He came with head hung down and eyes that looked upon the ground. "Not for me, not for me," he muttered, "is the holy vision." Then he caught sight of the beggar that lay yet at his gates, "Ah, now thou shalt be helped, old man," cried the knight, "for I must content myself with such small acts of pity." He sprang from his horse, and laid aside spear and crested shield, and bent over the beggar tending his wounds. He bade the servants bring him bread and wine, and himself saw all his wants supplied. And lo! as he turned, there floated the wondrous vision — he saw the Holy Grail! The truest and best service we can render is that which lies before us, in our way and next to hand.

(M. G. Pearse.)

Once, referring to the fact that orphanages are never maintained by infidels, Mr. Spurgeon used the felicitous expression, "The God that answereth by orphanages, let Him be God."

(H. P. Hughes, M. A.)

John Howard, when he grew sad about his piety, put on his hat and went out among the poor. He came back a gainer.

I. The apostle's words prove, first, THAT SOMETHING MIGHT APPEAR TO BE, OR BE HELD TO BE, PURE AND UNDEFILED RELIGION, WHICH IS NOT SATISFACTORY BEFORE GOD.

1. They prove, for instance, that a scriptural and orthodox creed is not in itself sufficient.

2. Neither, it here appears, is an inactive, contemplative religion such as God approves.

II. IT SEEMED NEEDFUL THUS BRIEFLY TO HINT AT ERRORS IN THIS MATTER, FOR THE PURPOSE OF SHOWING, MORE PLAINLY WHAT IS TRUE AND UNDEFILED RELIGION.

1. It is, first, as we are here told, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, One half of the world, as has sometimes been, said, knows not how the other half lives. This will not be the case where there is pure and undefiled religion. There will be then a principle which will lead the one half to inquire into the condition of the other. And truly, there is much need.

2. When St. James mentions the widows and the fatherless, he means, of course, the destitute and afflicted of every class. He specifies these only as most especially deserving our compassion.

3. Observe, brethren, to visit. The original word is more comprehensive than any one word of ours can fully render. It is to look round for and to inspect their circumstances: to see the assistance which they need, even as God Himself did when He visited and redeemed His people, baying seen and pitied their condition.

III. I come now to THE OTHER CHARACTERISTIC OF PURE AND UNDEFILED RELIGION — to keep himself unspotted from the world.

1. In regard to worldly business, I need not say that a man does not keep himself unspotted from the world by withdrawing from it. The cases must be few where this could be needful. Religion consists in "using the world, as not abusing it."

2. The pleasures and amusements of the world are still more injurious than the business of the world, to pure and undefiled religion. Many of them, either considered in themselves, or viewed in their consequences and effects, are opposed to it altogether. They involve a waste of that time and that money which ought to be employed in the service of God and the welfare of mankind.

3. He is in danger, thirdly, from its sentiments as well as from its pleasures. Because the world, avowedly, does not take its sentiments from the Bible; but sets up its own authority, enacts its own rules, and issues its own decisions. At the same time, it must not be conceived that a man acts religiously, or thinks scripturally, merely because he opposes general opinion. The only proper course is, to be independent of general opinion; to choose a course according to our special case and circumstances, which we believe that God will approve, and which we r,-solve to follow, whether approved of men or no; whether with the world, or against the world.

(Bp. Sumner.)

Men and women grow older in this world of ours, and as the years advance they change. Of all the changes that they undergo those of their moral natures are the most painful to watch. The boy changes into the man, and there is something lost which never seems to come back again. It is like the first glow of the morning that passes away — like the bloom on the blossom that never is restored. Your grown-up boy is wise in bad things which he used to know nothing about. His life no longer sounds with a perfectly clear ring, or shines with a perfectly white lustre. He is no longer unspotted. And then when a grown man sees and knows all this either in himself or in another, he is sure also that the change has come somehow from this boy having grown up to manhood in the midst of his fellow-men. Home, school, business, society, politics, human life in general in all its various activities — out of this have come the evil forces that have changed and soiled this life. We all think of ourselves, and in our kinder moments think of our brethren, as victims. We have not cast away the jewel, but we have fallen among thieves, and it has been taken from us. We have not merely been spotted, but "spotted by the world." There is something very sublime, I think, in the Bible conception of "the World" which we are always meeting. The Bible touches us because it seems to know all about this "world" — this total of created things, this cosmos, this aggregate of disorder with purposes of order manifest all through it, this sea of tempest with its tides of law, this mixture of insignificant trifles with the most appalling solemnities, this storehouse of life and activity and influence which we are crowding on and crowded by every day, out of which come the shaping forces of our life, which we call the world. The Bible knows all about it, and so we listen when the Bible speaks. Here, then, we have one fact. Our own experience discovers it. The Bible steps in and describes it. "Lives spotted by the world." The stained lives. Where is the man or woman who does not know what it means? There is the most outward sort of stain — the stain upon the reputation. It is what men see as they pass us, and know us by it for one who has struggled and been worsted. Then there are the stains upon our conduct, the impure and untrue acts which cross and cloud the fair surface of all our best activity. And then, far worst of all, there is the stain upon the heart, of which nobody but the man himself knows anything, but which to him gives all their unhappiness to the other stains, the debased motives, the low desires, the wicked passions of the inner life. These are the stains which we accumulate. They burn to our eyes even if no neighbour sees them. They burn in the still air of the Sabbath even if we do not see them in the week. You would not think for the world that your children should grow up to the same stains that have fastened upon you. You dream for them of a "life unspotted from the world," and the very anxiety of that dream proves how you know that your own life is spotted and stained. And that dream for the children is almost hopeless. At any rate the danger is that you will give it up by and by, and get to expecting and excusing the stains that will come upon them as they grow older. The worst thing about all this staining power of the world is the way in which we come to think of it as inevitable. We practically believe that no man can keep himself unspotted. He must accumulate his stains. It is not true. Men do go through political life as pure and poor as any most tired mechanic lives and works at his bench. And there are merchants who do carry, through all the temptations of business life, the same high standards — hands just as clean, and hearts just as tender, as they have when they pray to God or teach their little children. And social life is lighted up with the lustre of the white, unstained robes of many a pure man or woman who walks through its very midst. But the spots fall so thick that it is easy for men to say, "No one can go there and escape them. It is hopeless to try to keep yourself unspotted from the world"; and then (for that comes instantly), "We are not to blame for the world's spots upon us." I said this was the worst, but there is one worse thing still. When a man comes not merely to tolerate, but to boast of the stains that the world has flung upon him; when he wears his spots as if they were jewels; when he flaunts his unscrupulousness, and his cynicism and his disbelief and his hard-heartedness in your face as the signs and badges of his superiority; when to be innocent and unsuspicious and sensitive seems to be ridiculous and weak; when it is reputable to show that we are men of the world by exhibiting the stains that the world has left upon our reputation, our conduct, and our heart, then we understand how flagrant is the danger; then we see how hard it must be to keep ourselves unspotted from the world. And now, in view of all this, we come to our religion. Bee how intolerant religion is. She starts with what men have declared to be ira. possible. She refuses to bring down her standards. She insists that men must come up to her. No man is thoroughly religious, she declares, unless he does this, which it seems so hard to do, unless he goes through this world untainted, as the sunbeam goes through the mist. There is something sublime in this unsparingness. It almost proves that our religion is Divine, when it undertakes for man so Divine a, task. It could not sustain itself in its great claim to be from God unless it took this high and godlike ground, that whoever named the name of Christ must depart from all iniquity. Our religion is not true unless it have this power in it. We must bring our faith to this test. Unless our Christianity does this for us, it is not the true religion that St. James talked of, and that the Lord Jesus came to reveal and to bestow. Let us be sure of this. We go for our assurance to the first assertion of the real character of Christianity in the life of Jesus. The very principle of the Incarnation, that without which it loses all its value, surely is this, that Christ was Himself the first Christian; that in Him was first displayed the power of that grace by which all who believed in Him were afterwards to be helped and saved. And so the life of Jesus was lived in the closest contact with His fellow-men. He was always "seeing the kingdoms of the world, and all the glory of them," so realising the highest temptations to which our nature is open; always "feeling an hungered," so entering into the lowest enticements that tell upon our human flesh. Tilling ourselves with this idea, then, that the spotlessness of the Saviour's life is the pattern of the spotless life to which we must aspire — if we begin to study it, I think the first thing that strikes us about it is its positiveness. There are two ways of defending a castle; one by shutting yourself up in it, and guarding every loophole; the other by making it an open centre of operations from which all the surrounding country may be subdued. Is not the last the truest safety? Jesus was never guarding Himself, but always invading the lives of others with His holiness. His life was like an open stream that keeps the sea from flowing up into it by the eager force with which it flows down into the sea. He was so anxious that the world should be saved that therein was His salvation from the world. He laboured so to make the world pure that He never even had to try to be pure Himself. And so we see, by contrast, how many of our attempts at purity fail by their negativeness. A man knows that drink is ruining him, soul and body, and he makes up his mind that he will not drink again. How soon the empty hour grows wearisome. I do think that we break almost all our resolutions not to do wrong, while we keep a large proportion of our resolutions that we will do what is right. Habit, which is the power by which evil rules us, is only strong in a vacant life. And even if we could resist the evil by merely holding out against it, still should we not be like castles protecting themselves, but conquering and enriching no country around their walls? All merely negative purity has something of the taint of the impurity that it resists. The effort not to be frivolous is frivolous itself. The effort not to be selfish is very apt to be only another form of selfishness. So we are sure at once, and we learn it certainly from Christ, that the true spotlessness from the world must come, not negatively, by the garments being drawn back from every worldly contact, but positively by the garments being so essentially, Divinely pure that they fling pollution off, as sunshine, hurrying on its mission to the world, flings back the darkness that tries to stop its way. And what then? Is any such purity as Christ's, so positive, so strong, possible for us? As I said, if our religion cannot help us to it, then our religion fails of its task. Now let me try to show you what the faith of Christ can do for us, if we will let it, to make us so strong that the contaminations of the world cannot affect us. I am sure that there are some of us who have come here, conscious of stains and wounds from the hard conflicts of the week, who do indeed desire to know how they can be stronger and purer.

1. In the first place, Christianity is a religion of the supernatural, and, to any one who is thoroughly in its power, it must bring the presence of a live supernaturalism, and make that the atmosphere of his life. What the poor creature needs who is standing right in the midst of the world's defilements, catching them on every side, is it not just this: the clear, sure certainty of another world, of a spiritual world with spiritual purity for its law? It is very much as if you went out of the pure, sweet, sensitive home-life in which you have been bred, into the lowest, filthiest pollution of the city. Suppose you had to live there a week, a month. What would keep you pure from its defilement? Would it not be the constant sense, the ever-present vision, of that higher realm of life that you had come from, making your present home seem dreadful to you? Would not the very knowledge that such a higher realm of life existed be your strength and protection? Nay, to alter the illustration a little, would not your presence, if you were really radiant with the purity of the better life you came from, exalt and help some poor creature there with the knowledge of the existence and the possibility of better things? And that is just the power of the Incarnation. It opened the spiritual, the supernatural, the eternal. It was as if the clouds were broken above this human valley that we live in, and men saw the Alps above them, and took courage.

2. But this is not enough. No mere sense of the supernatural ever saved a soul. Christ must come nearer to the soul than this before it can really by Him "escape the corruption that is in the world." Then there comes in all the personal relation between the soul and its Saviour. Now we must mount to think what was the purpose of the Incarnation. We must get sight of that Divine pity which saw us in our sins and came to rescue us. We must understand how clear-sighted the Creator is to see and feel the need of every one among His creatures. We must grasp the bewildering thought of a personal love for our single souls. And then all must be emphasised and condensed into the world's tragedy. We must see the Jesus of the Cross on the Cross. And what then? Do you not see? Full of profoundest gratitude the soul looks round to see what it can give to the Saviour in token of its feeling of His love. And it can find nothing. It has nothing to give. And hopeless of finding anything, it simply gives itself. It is its own no longer. It is given away to Christ. It lives His life and not its own. Can you imagine that becoming real to a man and not changing his relation to the temptations that beset him? He feels now with Christ's feeling, and corruption drops away from him as it drops away from Christ. Shame, love, hope, every good passion wakes in the soul. It walks unharmed, because it walks in this new sense of consecration.

3. When I ask somewhat more minutely into the method which Christ uses to keep His servants free from the world's corruption, I seem to come to something like this, which seems, like so much besides in the gospel, at first surprising, and then sublimely natural and reasonable, that it is by a Christlike dedication to the world that Christ really saves us from the world. Do you see what I mean? You go to your Lord, and say, "O Lord, this world is tempting me, and I fear its stains. How shall I escape it? Shall I run away from it?" And the answer comes as unmistakable as if a voice spoke out of the opened sky, "No; go up close to this world, and help it; feel for its wickedness; pity it; sacrifice yourself or it; so shall you be safest from its infection; so shall you be surest not to sacrifice yourself to it." They say the doctors and the nurses are least likely to catch the epidemic. If you have a friend who is dishonest or impure, the surest way to save yourself from him is to try to save him. More pure and more secure in purity than the Pharisee, man or woman, who draws back the spotless skirts from the reach of the poor fallen creature who clutches at them, is the pitying man or woman who in the nearest brotherhood or sisterhood goes close to the wretched sinner and takes him by the baud to lift him. I am not surprised to hear that the man who despises the sinner and gets as far away from him as possible has become, after all, the sharer of his sin. I am surprised if the tender sympathiser who goes to the poor slave of sin, and says, "My brother, my heart bleeds for you; let me help you" — I am surprised if he is not armed by his pity against the contagion of the sin he tries to help, and if he does not save both his brother and himself together.

(Bp. Phillips Brooks.)

The figure is doubtless derived from the Jewish law; the touch of the ceremonially defiled, of a grave, a carcase, a bone, or an unclean animal, imparted pollution to a man, and he had to submit to a cleansing process before he could join in the temple services or associate with his brethren. The world is graphically pictured as a graveyard, leper-house, a den of unclean beasts, through which the believer must pick his way so carefully and circumspectly that he may escape contact with the all-surrounding corruptions, and come forth with his purity unsullied and unstained.

(F. T. Bassett, M. A.)

The bloom of the hawthorn looks like snow in Richmond Park, but nearer London, or by the roadsides, its virgin whiteness is sadly stained. Contact with the world has just such an effect upon our piety: we must away to the far-off Paradise to see holiness in its unsullied purity, and we must be much alone with God, if we would maintain a gracious life below.

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

When Charity walks into the lowest places of want, we see the beautiful purity of her garments most distinctly.

Such a rule as this demands a nobler spirit than that of the world, which is apt to sympathise with wealth rather than with poverty, with strength rather than with weakness, with success rather than with failure. And hence, by a simple logical advance, St. James, after bidding us visit orphans and widows, bids us keep ourselves unspotted from the world.

(Almoni Peloni.)