Moreover, the world is very solemn now, it is earnest and devoted; it is perfectly convinced, however baseless the conviction, that time is all in all. For example, mark that atheist. They who do not know the dark depths of man’s heart will not believe that a soul so monstrous can exist; but as if to prove the truth of the Word of God, a bold blasphemer has stood forth to deny God’s existence, and challenged Him to prove that the impious one was wrong, by striking him dead upon the spot. Or mark that knot of infidels. They are assembled to devise the means of spreading their poison, and import additional supplies from other lands, because the home growth is not sufficient. Or mark that group of papists. They are daily plotting the suppression of God’s truth, the enslaving of man’s soul, and deepening the darkness which already envelopes him. All, all are earnest, zealous, sanguine in the pursuit of evil—and shall they who hold the truth be alone lethargic, listless, apathetic? THE NEED
OF ZEAL. The infidel has been heard to declare, that if he believed what Christians profess to believe, he would be far more zealous than they. In truth, that infidel sees that the man whom the world stigmatizes as a religious enthusiast is the only consistent Christian. If I believe that every sin tends to eternal perdition, can I be consistent in my belief, if I do not repress sin by every proper means within my power? If I believe that none but Christ can save so much as one single soul, can I be consistent in my belief, if I am not ready to spend and be spent in winning souls to Christ? On that maxim the Christian indeed will act; and when that spirit is ascendant, we shall see far more done than has yet been attempted to soothe men’s sorrows, to dry men’s tears, and ease their aching hearts.
CHAPTER II.
RELIGION IN OUR HOMES.
It is a fatal and a paralysing mistake to suppose that the religion of Jesus is to be kept for certain days, or occasions, or places, and laid aside or neglected at other times. It is not meant to give solemnity merely to a few hours of the Sabbath, or a few deeds of the hand; and while we can be satisfied with that view of religion, we have not begun to feel its power, to partake of its joy, or enter into its spirit. It would not be more unreasonable to suppose that the body needs the vital air to breathe only on certain occasions, or that the eye needs the light of heaven to see only at peculiar seasons, than that man can dispense at times with the truth of God as his guide, and monitor, and friend. If there be a moment at which man is not prone to go astray, then for that moment he may dispense with truth. If there be a single breath during which man is not dependent upon God, for that breath he may lay aside God’s pure and holy word.
But it is the dictate of reason, the moment it is illumined from on high, that the truth should take the control of the conscience, the understanding, and the heart, in all we find to do. It is to preside over thought, word, and deed. It is to direct us not merely in actions which are strictly and properly religious, like praise, and prayer, and public worship. It is to give a religious character to all that we attempt; and one great reason why religion is often despised is, that not a few of those who profess to hold the truth forget its righteous claims in their dealings with their fellow-men.
There is a parent sitting by the couch where his first-born is stretched—a corpse. As he gazes on the pale features, more beautiful, he thinks, than ever now, because death has turned them into marble, what consolation can the truth yield to him, if it has been his habit to confine its influence to a corner, a fragment of life, instead of regarding it as the sunshine or the vital air of the soul?
There is a sister weeping by the grave of one who has just become a prey to corruption. Her heart is lonely, and stricken, and sore—she feels it would be a relief could it break. And what blessing can the truth, the very truth as it is in Jesus, yield to that wounded spirit, if it has been its habit to seclude and sequester religion, to keep it apart from the business of life, like some portion of our dress, meant only for solemn seasons or for holidays?
OUR HOMES.
There is another. The hand of death is on him. He cannot be blind to its approach. He must take home the warning, OUR
HOMES. “Set thy house in order, for thou shalt die and not live.” And of what avail to that man is the very truth which came from heaven, if it has been kept at a distance from the heart, like something which we dislike or dread? Can a name, an echo, a phantom, a shadow, really avail that dying man’s soul?
THE PROVINCE OF TRUTH.