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which has overtaken me? Shall I be si- | king, that his free agency was destroyed, lent, because it were like asking for mir- so that he was necessitated, against his acle, to ask that the prison doors might will, to adopt a particular course. It was be loosened, or for interruption of the not indeed optional with Ahasuerus known laws of nature, to entreat that the whether or not he would be wakeful; agitated elements might be hushed? neither was it at his own choice, whether Nay, not so. God, who succored the or not the thought should cross his mind of Jews through giving one man a sleepless sending for the chronicles of the empire; night, may, by the dropping of a più, in- but we may fairly suppose that he could cline the tyrant to release me, or, by a have resisted this thought had he pleased. feather's weight in those laboratories He might have said to himself, "These which science never penetrated, repress chronicles will never soothe me to sleep: the rushings of the storm. I am deliver- I will try something better suited to my ed from the dungeon, I am saved from purpose"--and thus might he have withthe tempest, without exciting the surprise stood the impulse, and lost the opporof the world, because without any palpa- tunity of discovering and correcting his ble derangement of the common order of faults. We do not of course mean, as things; but nevertheless through an ex- we have hinted before, that Haman's press answer to prayer, or a direct inter- plot would not have been defeated, had ference on the part of the Almighty. the king not done according to the suggestion of God. God designed that the plot should be defeated; and he would, therefore, have been sure to bring to bear an adequate instrumentality. But the point under consideration is, that the agency employed on the king was so natural, so undistinguishable from the workings of his own mind, that he could never have suspected a Divine interference, and must have been perfectly at liberty either to do, or not to do, as the secret impulse prescribed.

Oh, there is something in this which should be wondrously encouraging to all who feel their insignificance, and can scarce venture to think that the high and glorious God will exert his omnipotence on their behalf. If the registered deliverances, vouchsafed to the church, were all deliverances which had been effected through miracles, we might question whether they afforded any precedent, on which creatures like ourselves could justly rest hope. We dare not think that for us, for our safety or advancement, armed squadrons will be seen on the heavens, or the earth be convulsed, or the waters turned into blood. But look from Israel delivered from Pharaoh to Israel delivered from Haman, and we are encouraged to believe that God will not fail even us in our extremity, seeing that he could save the people through such a simple and unsuspected process as this: "On that night could not the king sleep, and he commanded, to bring the book of the records of the chronicles."

And in this, my brethen, we have a striking illustration of God's ordinary course in his dealings with men-those dealings, we specially mean, through which he would effect their conversion or renewal. If you examine theoretically into the consistence of human liberty with the operations of Divine grace—if, that is, you seek to show, with thorough precision, that the influences of God's Spirit on our minds in no degree interfere with free agency-it is possible that you will involve yourselves in a labyrinth, But we would now lead you along a and seek vainly for the clue by which you train of thought quite different from the might be extricated. But, practically, preceding, but naturally flowing from the there is no difficulty whatsoever in the circumstances under review. We wish matter: we may fairly say, that, whilst you again, and more distinctly, to observe, suggestions are secretly generated, and that, even on the supposition that God impulses applied to our minds, we are produced, and did not merely overrule thoroughly at liberty to act as we choose: what took place, there was nothing to it depends on ourselves, on the exercise excite a consciousness of Divine inter- of our own will, whether the suggestions ference: the whole process was so natur- be cherished or crushed, whether the imal that its subject might never have sus- pulses be withstood or obeyed. And we pected the special workings of God. It know nothing of which it is more imporcannot for a moment be alleged, that any tant that men be aware, than of the naturthing like compulsion was laid upon the alness, so to speak, of the Spirit's opera

tions; for many are disposed to wait for, and restore my composure: give me the what they count supernatural influence romance, or the comedy, rather than the -influence which shall palpably not be book of the chronicles; give me my of this earth, and which shall virtually jovial companions, rather than the leave them no freedom of choice. But ministers of religion." Ahasuerus might without denying that cases sometimes have done this, and thereby would he occur, in which the operations of the have resisted promptings which were Spirit thus force attention to their origin, not of his own mind, though they gave it is unquestionable that his ordinary no note of supernatural origin, and have operations are just such as may pass for lost the opportunity of freeing his kingthe workings of our own minds: there dom from a great impending calamity. is nothing in them to tell us, that we are, And the sinner may do this: he may at that moment, being subjected to the withstand a suggestion, which seems agency of Omnipotence; nothing to ex- only to spring from a disturbed mind, cite the startling conviction, that we are though in truth to be traced to the Spirit verily wrought upon by that renovating of God; and thus may he throw away a power, which is to mould out of fallen golden opportunity of learning how to humanity a habitation for Deity himself. flee from everlasting wrath. And because the operations of the Spirit are commonly not distinguishable from those of our own minds, the danger is very great of their being overlooked or despised; and the duty is, therefore, most pressing, of our being ever on the watch for his suggestions and impulses. The position of the unconverted man is often precisely that of the king Ahasuerus. There is a restlessness, an uneasiness, for which he cannot give any definite reason; it has come upon him, he hardly knows whence; and he turns from side to side, expecting to recover his moral indifference or composure. But still his sleep goes from him, and he bethinks him of measures for wooing it back. When he has been similarly situated before, he has perhaps had recourse to the fascinations of the world; he has summoned pleasure with her lyre, and syren strains have soothed him into quiet. Shall he take the same course now! It would be natural that he should; but he feels a sort of disposition to try another mode; it is secretly suggested to him that the book of the record of the chronicles might give him some repose, that the Bible might hush his agitation, were it read to him by those whose office it is to press home its truths. And thus is he literally situated as was the Persian king on that eventful night, when the fate of the Jews, and of the world, seemed to hang upon a thread. He is acted on as was the king; and there is nothing to prevent his resisting as the king might have resisted. He may say to himself, "The Bible is a dull book, preachers are melancholy persons; I will try something more likely to dissipate my fears,

The special thing forced on the conscience of Ahasuerus through the book of the chronicles, was, that there was one who had done him great service in saving him from death, and whom he had hitherto requited with neglect. And it is the very same thing which might be forced on the conscience of the sinner through the reading or hearing of the Bible. There is one who has done for him what thought cannot measure, ransoming him, by "the death of the cross," from everlasting pains; but he has hitherto refused to acknowledge this Savior, and has given him, in return, only hatred or contempt. So accurately is a case of most common occurrence, that of the unconverted man moved by God's Spirit to give heed to the Gospel of Christ, portrayed in that of the Persian king, prompted, in his restlessness, to hear the chronicles of the empire. And what we would again and again impress upon you is, that you are not to think of recognizing the operations of the Spirit of God by any supernatural tokens, as though, whensoever that agent is at work in your breasts, you must be aware of his presence, and able to distinguish his movements from those of the conscience and the will. The secret uneasiness, the impulse to prayer, the sense of something wrong, the disposition to hear the word of God-these may not startle you by their strangeness; these may seem to you quite natural, as naturally produced as suggestions of an opposite character-but know ye of a truth, that these are what the Holy Ghost causes; that these may perhaps be all which the Holy Ghost will cause;

and, therefore, that if ye will not yield yet the man cannot sleep; and he

to these, and will not act on these, there is a fearful probability of your being forsaken of God, and left to your own devices. Wait not for miracles-God's ordinary workings are through very simple means. We do not read of any thunderclap which awakened Ahasuerus; he was restless, but perhaps could give no account of his restlessness. If he had been asked, he would probably have mentioned the heat of the weather, or overexcitement, or something of which he had eaten. But, all the while, God was in that sleeplessness, for which so many common causes might have been assigned. And there must be those of you who already know, or who will know, something of a moral uneasiness which might admit of various explana tions. There has been no thunderclap |

will perhaps account for it from some loss in his family, or some disappointment in trade, or some deficiency in health. But God is in that uneasiness, that disquietude, which shows an inability to settle down in present things, and a secret craving for higher and better. Well then-whensoever such a season shall visit any amongst you, let them be specially heedful of what may be suggested to their minds; they are not disturbed for nothing, but that they may be prompted and urged towards religion -no music, no revelry, no blandishments: let the records of the chronicles of the kingdom of heaven be searched, and they shall learn how the snare may be broken, and beautiful peace be permanently secured.

SERMON VII.

THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM.

"And David longed, and said, Oh, that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate! And the three mighty men brake through the host of the Philistines, and drew water out of the well of Bethlehem, that was by the gate, and took it, and brought it to David: nevertheless he would not drink thereof, but poured it out unto the Lord. And he said, Be it far from me, O Lord, that I should do this: is not this the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives? therefore he would not drink of it."-28AM. XXIII. 15, 16, 17.

We are not to regard the scriptural histories as mere registers of facts, such as are commonly the histories of eminent men: they are rather selections of facts, suitableness for purposes of instruction having regulated the choice. In human biography, you may say of much that is recorded, that it is inserted only because it happened, and because, therefore, its omission would have destroyed the integrity of the narrative. But we do not suppose that the same may be said of scriptural biography; a fact is not recorded merely because it occurred, as

though the object were to give the ful! life of some distinguished individuai; a fact is rather chosen for relation, out of many which are omitted, because exhibiting some point, whether in human conduct or the divine dealings, on which it is important that attention be turned.

Occasionally, indeed, and perhaps more frequently than is commonly thought, it is because the fact has a typical character that it is selected for insertion: it prefigures, or symbolically represents, something connected with the scheme of redemption, and on this

account has found place in the sacred volume. Neither is it unusual for the recorded fact to answer to both these descriptions; being instructive in itself, and serving also as an emblem of truths that were then taught only by shadows and types. And whether, in any given instance, it be that the thing narrated is instructive in itself, or significative of what God had yet but partially disclosed; or whether it may lay claim to both characters; we ought, at least, to be careful that we content not ourselves with apprehending the facts, but study diligently what lessons they may convey, and what types they may contain.

We make these general remarks from a fear that, in regard especially of the Old Testament narratives, there is a habit with many christians of reading scriptural histories as registers of facts, rather than as collections of lessons. The interesting character of the narratives themselves is often likely to induce or strengthen this habit; the mind becomes so engaged with the story, that the instruction is disregarded, or the figure overlooked. There are others besides children who can be pleased with the fable, and never think of the moral. And if we fail to search the scriptural narratives for lessons and types, it is evident that we shall practically take away from great part of the Bible its distinctive character as a record of spiritual truth; whilst, on the other hand, by always looking for what always exists -material of instruction-we may give histories the nature of homilies, and find the events in an individual's life prophetic of things in which the whole world has interest.

We hope to show you, as we proceed with our discourse, that the narrative which we have now selected from the Old Testament, forms no exception to the rule, but rather signally illustrates its truth. It is exactly one of those narratives which are likely to be read and admired for the beauty of the facts, rather than studied for the worth of the lessons. It lays immediate and strong hold on the imagination, having about it that air of chivalry, we might almost say romance, which ordinarily so captivates and dazzles the fancy. You can hardly read it and not have before you all the scenery of the tented field, with the mailed champions and the floating banners.

The royal warrior, David, is exhausted with the fight; he has been in the thick of the struggle with the Philistines, and is now faint with thirst. In this his weariness and languor, he is heard to breath a passionate wish for water from the well of Bethlehem, between which and himself lay the Philistines, so that the well could be reached only by breaking through their line. But amongst his followers were men as attached as intrepid; with hearts devoted to their chieftain, and hand prepared to attempt even impossibilities at his bidding. Three of the most distinguished of these followers heard the wish which David expressed. There was no command given: but with them a wish had the force of a command; and pausing not to count the peril, they rushed against the foe, resolved to carve themselves a passage. It was like rushing on destruction-what will their courage and strength avail against a multitude! they will be borne down in the unequal struggle; and even if they reach the well their retreat will be cut off, and they must perish in the effort to return. And yet-so did the Almighty favor the bold enterprise-they succeeded in breaking through the host: you may trace their course by the stir, the tumult, and the crash; the enemy falls in heaps before them; now they are by the side of the cold flowing fountain; they stay not to quench their own thirst: they dip, it may be a helmet in the waters, and hasten, with that warrior's cup to attempt a second time the passage. Perhaps the Philistines scarcely offer fresh resistance; these three men may have seemed to them more than mortal; they may have divided at their approach, and allowed them to return unopposed to the army of Israel.

And David must have been aware of this desperate sally; he must have known that the choicest of his warriors had thrown themselves, to all appearance, on certain death, in hopes of gratifying his wish; and deep must have been his anxieties, and fervent his prayers, for those whom his inconsiderateness had placed in such peril. But the shout of his troops tells him that his brave captains are safe; they approach, stained with the blood of the Philistines, and perhaps with their own: they bow before their king, present the sparkling draught, and ask no reward but the pleasure of seeing him refreshed. And David holds the helmet

in his hands, but raises it not to his lips: the thirst consumes him, for it has been aggravated through the feverish dread that the bold men would perish; but the water, fresh and pure though it was, looked to him like the blood of those who had jeopardied their lives; he felt compunction at having rashly given utterance to a wish which had produced so daring a deed; and he will punish himself for the fault; he refuses to drink, and pours the water on the ground as a libation to the Lord.

What a picture! Every one is familiar with the story of our own warrior, who, mortally wounded, and parched with the death-thirst, received a cup of water, but observing, as he raised it to his lips, the eye of a dying soldier rest wistfully upon it, handed it to him and bade him drink it, as needing it yet more than himself. But we know not whether the history before us do not present a still finer subject for the painter. It does not seem as though David had to choose between quenching his own thirst and that of another. There may have been no gasping warrior at his feet to move sympathy by the glassy eye and the clotted lip. It was simply at the suggestion of conscience that he put from him the longedfor draught; and there was all the more of greatness, because there was apparently so little to prompt the self-denial.

their conduct then appears very admirable, as far removed as can well be imagined from that calculating and niggardly obedience, which betrays a disposition to do the least possible, to render as little to a master as that master can be prevailed on to accept. We need not touch the question as to whether these warrio13 were justified in running such a risk, whether it were unlawful, or not, to make the attempt to which they were prompted by the expressed wish of David. It may have been unlawful; there must have been a point at which obedience to God would have forbidden obedience to their king; but we have no means for accurately judging whether this point had been reached in the case now before us. We may, therefore, waive all reference to the right or the wrong, of the resolve to cut a path to the waters of Bethlehem; we have simply to do with the power which a mere wish of David had over his servants, for we may hence derive a lesson for all servants, whether of God or of man.

You are to observe that David issued no command. He might have summoned the bravest of his battalions, and bidden them attempt the forcing a passage to the well; but nothing of the kind was done: he simply uttered a wish, without, perhaps, thinking that he should be overheard, and certainly without designing that it should be interpreted as a command. But the wish was sufficient for bold and true-hearted men, and they instantly faced death to attempt its gratification. And we say of these servants, thus yielding as ready an obedience to an overheard wish as could have been rendered to the most positive order, that they rebuke many of ourselves, who, whether it be their Creator, or their fellow-creatures, by whom they are employ

But we need not take pains to give interest and coloring to the narrative. The risk, as we have hinted, is all the other way--that you may be so attracted by the chivalrous circumstances, by the displayed bravery and magnanimity, as to think nothing of homely and personal lessons with which the registered incidents are assuredly fraught. We have, therefore, now to engage you exclusively with these lessons. We wish you to ob-ed, seem only axious to reduce their serserve what there may have been to blame, vice to the smallest possible amount. and what to approve, in the conduct of There is an example set by these warDavid; and to note, with like attention, riors to every man who is called on for the conduct of his servants. This suffi- obedience, which fits the history before ciently defines what we have to attempt us to be inscribed on our kitchens, our through the remainder of our discourse; shops, and our churches. The example we will take, first, the conduct of the three, lies in their not having waited for a comwarriors, and, secondly, that of David, mand, but acted on a wish; and there is and examine what, in each case, there no man to whom the term servant apmay be whether to condemn or to copy, plies-and it applies to every man, at Now the three warriors must be sur- least with reference to God—who would veyed as servants of David, men engaged, not do well to ponder the example, and to obey his commands, and execute his consider whether he be not yet far below will to the utmost of their power. And, such a model.

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