10. His Influence

ON CHRISTIAN THOUGHT. CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY. THE ORIGIN AND NURTURE OF THE NEW LIFE. FAITH, LOVE, HOPE. THE EARLY AGES. THE DARK AGES. MYSTICISM. THE REFORMATION. THE PRESENT. INFLUENCE OF JOHN'S PERSONALITY. RESULTS OF STUDYING HIS WRITINGS.

IT is not possible for us to disentangle the influence of John's writings upon the life and thought of the Christian Church from that of Scripture as a whole, and to trace and measure it separately—even as we cannot trace to their separate sources the million rain-drops that descended last summer upon the earth and refreshed it when it was weary. Very distinctly however can we discern its presence, combined with countless other influences which have their origin in God and are administered by His Spirit.

Three almost distinct forms of influence I would specially note, as belonging under God, to the writings of this Apostle.

FIRST, on Christian Thought, through the special truths which he exhibits. Certain realms of truth his writings

INFLUENCE ON CHRISTIAN THOUGHT.

illumine as no other portion of Scripture does; certain special truths, which “*command*” alike in theology and life, he has brought into view almost like a creator. Were his writings lost, or expunged from the New Testament, the truth as it is in Jesus would of course remain essentially the same; but, so far as concerns us, it would be thrown into obscurity; we should feel as if half the light had been withdrawn from our atmosphere; and some of the greatest questions pertaining to life and godliness we should have to deal with anew, from the very foundations.

I refer specially to those truths which cluster round the pre-existence and Godhead of our Reedemer, His Incarnation, the dwelling of God in us and of us in Him, and the personality and grace of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter. I will not say that the essence, but certainly the direction and volume and force, of our Christian thought—and the character of our Christian worship—would have been very different from what they are, had the writings of John not existed.* And on certain vital questions, respecting which the Church of Christ can now give forth a clear and unhesitant utterance, we should perhaps have spoken timidly rather than in the tones of men who have attained to heart-assurance.

It is certainly a unique fact that a fisherman, simply relating what he saw and heard, in terms that a child may understand, should have brought the supremest claims of Jesus of Nazareth into view—beyond what even the imperial Paul has done—so as to compel the most profound and philosophic thinkers of every age to meet the

* Bunsen says strongly: “If the Gospel of John is not the historical account of an eye-witness, but a myth, then there is no historic Christ; and without an historic Christ, all Church-Christian faith is at an end; all Christian confession is hypocrisy or illusion; all Christian worship mummery; and the Reformation a crime or a madness.”

A GLINT OF INNER LIFE.

problem, and so as to induce men, to whom sin and helplessness are realities and not names, to commit themselves into His hands for both worlds, believing them to be the hands of grace and almightiness.

A SECOND form of influence is seen in what may be called the Apostle's Christian Philosophy. He apprehends the truths of the Gospel, builds them together, and presents them to our minds in a way of his own, quite different from the way of James or Peter or Paul. Two things we observe in him: first, the revelation of God in Christ has shone with the intensest and purest brightness before his soul, and he has gazed upon it (as one fascinated) - not merely until he has penetrated it—but until *it* has penetrated *him*; and second, he "testifies" or "shows" with the artlessness of a child what he has thus seen and known. The Western mind, with its logical bent and dialectic tendencies, does not enter very readily or very sympathetically into his way. The wise and prudent think him childish; some even profess to find in him only the aridity of metaphysics, and the darkness of abstract dogmas, in weary repetition. Now and again a stray thinker follows him perhaps earning for himself the name of "mystic" or even of "heretic"; but the majority go a separate path.

Here is a remarkable *glint* of the inner life of a very remarkable and (in some respects) John-like man. • After telling of his conversion, he says: "Next day, as I sat down to study, and took my pen in hand, I became suddenly the passive recipient of all the truths which I had heard and been taught in my childhood. I sat there unmoving for hours, and they *came and preached themselves to me*. There was now no investigation such as I had

• The late Dr. John Duncan, Professor of Oriental Languages, Edinburgh.

INFLUENCE OF JOHN'S WRITINGS.

desired, but presentation of the truth to me passive. And I felt, sitting there, as if in that hour I had got matter for sermons for a life time. Now the temptation to daily sin was gone. I had not even to fight with it. And I was in an almost infantile state of mind; so that when I mislaid a paper in my study, I would kneel down and pray to find it, and then go and seek for it." I refer to the life throughout as one of the rare illustrations of the influence of the Apostle John in the direction I am now pointing out.

The thoughts which the Apostle presents are to be seen, with the eyes of the heart, in the light of the Spirit of God, rather than reasoned about; and the links that bind them together into a succession lie deep out of common sight. But though his philosophy, if I may call it so, has not been extensively followed, it has, nevertheless, had a distinct influence in at least two directions: it has tended to prevent the logician from tyrannizing over the seer, and turning Christian teaching into the mere exposition of a system; and thousands and tens of thousands of lowly people have learnt from it, in a practical way, that we see with the heart, and that for spiritual vision the heart must be purified and brought under the power of love.*

A THIRD form of influence is seen in connection with the origination and nurture of the New Life.

I would place in the very forefront the influence which his writings have had, under God, in leading souls into the peace of believing, and in enkindling love toward the Lord Jesus. The Gospel is sometimes set forth, even by well-meaning men, in a threatening way, as if one should

* "It is most important in these days that all should be convinced that the pure love of truth cannot be severed from the love of God, nor the perfect knowledge of truth from the knowledge of God; and that the Spirit of God alone can purge our intellectual eye from the manifold films which disguise and distort all objects, and prevent its seeing them."

GRACIOUS WORDS.

offer a gift to another, presenting a loaded and capped revolver at his head to compel acceptance of it. How far different is John's way! While there is no holding back of that which is dread-- no extenuating of the consequences of unbelief-- the Saviour is exhibited in infinite attractiveness and grace, as well as Divinest majesty, answering to His word, "I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto Me."

I believe the writings of this Apostle have been blotted by more penitents' tears, and have won more hearts for the Redeemer, than all the rest put together. Among the "gracious words" that are set as thick as stars in the firmament of Scripture, there are none that shine with a clearer lustre than those which we find in John. Take the following by way of example: "Behold the Lamb of God!" "Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out;" "He that believeth on Me hath everlasting life;" "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin;" "The Spirit and the bride say, Come; and let him that heareth say, Come; and let him that is athirst come: and whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." These texts are all the more wonderful when viewed in their connection. If we were asked to name a verse that might be called the very pole-star of faith, what would it be but this? "God so loved the world that He gave His Only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." How many souls have entered into the peace of believing through means of this one verse God only knows; and again, how often dying lips have whispered it and fading eyes have brightened to hear it spoken.

One example may represent a thousand. Jonas Justus, wiping the cold sweat from the forehead of the dying Luther, heard him praying and committing his soul with

AFFECTION FOR THE GOSPEL OF JOHN.

great confidence into the hands of the Heavenly Father; and then, as if he were grasping hard after the ground of such certain hope, he repeated aloud this passage (in Latin, as he had learned it when a child), "Sic enim Deus dilexit mundum, ut Filium suum unigenitum daret, ut omnis qui credit in eum non pereat, sed habeat vitam æternam." "For God so loved the world that He gave His Only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life."

Equally precious are these writings in connection with the *nurture* of the new life.

Simple and childlike hearts that have newly entered into the joy of salvation, ignorant of scientific theology, but hungering and thirsting for God, turn to them with never-failing desire, and find in them green pastures and living waters. To a large extent it is the same with those who have reached the most advanced stages of Christian experience, whose spiritual nature has become deepened and expanded by the manifold teachings of God. Here the simplicity of youth and the ripest and holiest wisdom of age agree. I have taken pains to inquire of many belonging to both classes how they have been guided in their reading, and what they have found most fruitful of spiritual blessing and delight; and almost every answer has included—at least—the Gospel of John, often named in the tone of personal affection, as men name a dear friend. And I have often thought that those whom the Lord leads hither, and teaches out of this part of His Word, have a special simplicity and depth of character, and a holy insight, that others do not attain to. I have thought also that they learn more of a personal love to Jesus, like that of the bride to the bridegroom—with fullest abnegation of self and devotion to His will; and that their lives come to move as if set to the cadence of an unearthly, mystic melody. While other

SELF-CONSECRATION.

saints believe and love and serve, *they* lose themselves in Him, finding Him the chiefest among ten thousands and the altogether lovely—just as in that “love-song”—

“ In darkest shades, if He appear,

My dawning is begun ;

He is my soul's sweet morning star,

And He my rising sun.

“ The opening heavens around me shine

With beams of sacred bliss,

While Jesus shows His heart is mine,

And tells me I am His.

“ My soul would leave this heavy clay

At that transporting word :

Run up with joy the shining way

To embrace my dearest Lord.”

Here is the secret of self-consecration : in our being “possessed” by the love of Christ ; and feeling— *He* loves *me* more than I love Him. Possessed by this love, I yield myself wholly and joyfully to Him. My hand, my foot, my eye, my ear, my tongue, my understanding, my heart— all that is within me—belong to the Lord, and are to be used according to His loving and holy will. My hand is His, redeemed by Him, sacred to Him, and cannot do unholy work ; my foot is His, and cannot go on unholy errands ; my ear is His, and cannot listen to unholy words ; my eye is His, and cannot look upon unholy deeds ; my tongue is His, and cannot utter unholy speeches ; my mind is His, and cannot think unholy thoughts ; my heart is His, and cannot cherish unholy feelings and desires ; my whole being is His, redeemed by Him, sacred to Him, and is surrendered to His will.

Not the worse, but the better, will the work of the present life be done that we are attaining to this condition more fully. Not the worse, but the better—because, for the eye of the Lord—shall we be able to buy and sell, to plan

CHRISTIAN HOPE.

and construct, to sow and reap, to subdue the earth and have dominion over it, not only in outward ways, but in its subtlest and most hidden forces. The most daring scientific investigator will not feel himself hampered in his inquiries. He need not be the less a true man of science because he is a true Christian. Not the worse, but the better, shall we deal with questions of public economy, social order and morality, poverty, health, education, and whatsoever else belongs to us by God's appointing as members of an earthly commonwealth. We shall be better fathers and mothers, better sons and daughters, better friends, better neighbours, better masters, better servants, fulfilling better the duties of all our relationships.

So far from being *unpractical*, there is nothing *more* practical—for all kinds of true work—than this letting the love of Christ get in and about the roots of our being. In a window this summer there was a flower-pot, containing a plant whose use it was to be odorous and beautiful. The leaves were just beginning to curl up. I poured a cupful of water around the roots; and a child, looking on, asked, *What good will that do? Why did you not rather pour the water on the leaves?* It was a child that asked—and I answered in the best way I could, that when God would bring beauty, and fragrance, and healthfulness into our lives He waters us at the root. And His rain does good by going down *there*.

Besides faith and love, there is the influence which the Apostle, as the New Testament prophet, has exerted upon Christian hope. More largely than any other New Testament writer, he deals with "the things which shall be hereafter," inspiring the believer to wait patiently and courageously upon God.

The sphere thus filled is very wide. In God's dealings of grace, throughout history, there has ever been a call

THE VALUE OF THE BOOK.

addressed to the patience of hope: "Trust in the Lord for ever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength." Thus, when God gave promise to Abraham, He called him to patient waiting; and, again and again, while he waited on, the promise seemed destined to fail. That is a type of God's way. During the course of these eighteen centuries it has seemed again and again as if it were all over for Jesus Christ and His cause; as if the word, "Ask of Me, and I shall give Thee the heathen for Thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for Thy possession," were coming to nought; as if either He would not ask, or God could not give; and as if the prediction, "He shall see of the travail of His soul and shall be satisfied," must fail. Most powerful under God has John's influence been, in the presence of such a condition of things, through the Book of Revelation—a book which has not merely had a splendid and mighty fascination for the imagination, but has kept alive a glorious Hope in the gloomiest and most fearful times. Even when God's ways have become unintelligible to His people, and despairing thoughts in dark and dread array have invaded their souls, there has come in through the ministry of this book a calm and mighty *fear not*, as if One spake to them not from the far-off heavens, but close at hand, adding the promise (*thrice*, lest it should be overlooked), "Surely I come quickly."*

For no book of Scripture has there been a profounder and more imperious need. Men may play with it in days

* "It has given a foretaste of heaven, and elevated the soul with all the charms of permitted inspiration. Every Christian poet has drawn from this source: the best psalms of the middle ages, as used in the Church, are adorned with flowers from the Apocalypse. Subsequently to this period, we may trace its hallowed sounds through Dante; Petrarch; Milton; and Petersen, whose 'Songs of Zion' are an echo of the Revelation."—*Herder*.

IN TROUBLOUS TIMES.

of peaceful ease; but looking back over the past, I do not know what could have been done—how the woes and miseries of ages could have been borne without it. Let any one read for example the pages of Tacitus, the contemporary of John, in which the utter wretchedness of society is described, and the sufferings which the Christians had to endure just answering to these words, “the fiery trial which is to try you”; and then, with the facts in view, let him consider how terrible must have been the strain put upon faith and patience.

Or take such an inscription from the Catacombs, belonging to the reign of Antoninus: “Oh, sad times; in which, amid sacred rites and prayers, even in caverns we are not safe! What can be more wretched than such a life!”

Or take the description given by Eusebius of the sufferings of the Christians under Diocletian (with all allowance for rhetorical exaggerations), when they were scourged till the flesh came off the bones, when they were torn asunder limb from limb, when boiling oil was poured along the hollow of the naked back, when they were hung over slow fires till their very flesh was roasted.

Or take the story told by such a writer as Michelet concerning France between the thirteenth century and the fifteenth, with its inconceivable horrors and the growth of a religion of despair.

Terrible has been the temptation, again and again in the course of history, for even Christian hearts to surrender amidst accumulated woes, giving up all for lost, and unable to endure their miseries and the sight of the miseries of their fellow-men.

More than any other book of Scripture has the book of Revelation counterworked the tendencies to despair, and kept hope alive—if at times only like a wind-blown flame. In the worst times believing hearts have seen, off in the

INFLUENCE IN EARLY TIMES.

future—victory for the Lamb, and blissful ages when “the tabernacle of God shall be with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself shall be with them and be their God; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes: and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” Precious beyond all conception has the Hope been; while the longing has grown almost to a passion, in response to Him who has promised to come quickly,—“*Amen! Even so, come, Lord Jesus!*”

Looking broadly over history, the general influence of the Apostle is very distinctly marked in the earlier centuries. I am not prepared to assert that he gave direction to the first investigations of Christian thinkers; it was perhaps natural and inevitable that Christian inquiry should take for its starting-point, as it did, the person of the Redeemer; but unquestionably his writings were of supremest worth in these investigations, and the earlier Christian centuries may be called Johannine: they bear his impress and stamp, with the utmost depth and distinctness,—not indeed in manner of thought, but certainly in the truths received.

By degrees other subjects came into the foreground of thought; and his influence was felt in a diminished measure. With Augustine—as a marked name—attention began to be powerfully directed to subjects on which Paul had spoken out more largely than John. Such words as sin, grace, predestination, free will, redemption, indicate the region now to be explored. Also, in course of time, questions shaped themselves out respecting which John said little or nothing—questions about ecclesiastical form and organization, sacraments, relations of Church and State, the supremacy of Peter, the respect due to the Virgin Mary, the power of the bishop of Rome, and so forth. It is not necessary to recall

MYSTICISM.

what Church History tells of the flow of thought for many centuries—of the channels along which it flowed—of the corruptions and absurdities with which it became mingled—of the philosophies which ruled it—of the bogs in which it sometimes almost lost itself\*—of the hiding of the personal Christ by the priesthood and ritual; by the mediation of the Virgin Mary, together with a host of saints; and by a theological jargon which now appears grotesque and senseless. Under these conditions, it is not surprising that for hundreds of years men found little or nothing in John's writings that seemed to be of value to them.

Down these ages however his influence is exhibited, in connection with that stream of tendencies known as MYSTICISM. As to mystic doctrines, these varied widely at different times and in different countries: theologically and practically mysticism was often in deep and dangerous error; not seldom on the verge of Pantheism. As to mystic life, it too often placed a false value on reverie and nervous excitement, and degenerated into the substitution of a morbid and fantastic saintship for loving obedience to the will of Christ:† at times associating itself with unbridled licence, at times with the sternest asceticism, that maimed and tortured the flesh, but left the root of sin untouched in the heart; while

\* Even during the darkest of the dark ages the Divine fire was always kept burning in some hearts, and never really went out. Every generation had its remnant according to the election of grace—consisting perhaps of more thousands than we might think—who did not bow the knee to Baal. I am not sure that we are so much in advance of past ages, in point of insight into the things of God, as we believe. How much of our most intelligent talk is a "babbling in the dark!" I suspect that the so-called "dark ages" hid many "hidden ones" who were John-readers.

† Thus it was the prayer of "John of the Cross" that not a day of his life might pass in which he did not suffer something. "Take pains," he says, "to give your name an ill savour; burrow deep and deeper under heaped obloquy, and you are safe." And again: "Whatsoever you find pleasant to body or soul, abandon: whatsoever is painful, embrace."

THE LIFE OF TRUST.

in other cases it was the expression of holiest desire (enkindled in the heart by the Spirit of God) to walk with the crucified and risen Christ,— trust, love, gratitude, awe, devotion, being combined and blended.

Mysticism contained however an assertion, less or more distinctly uttered, that the things of God can be seen only by the spiritual man—that God reveals Himself within the secret chamber of the soul—that the activity of the intellect is less than still and silent contemplation—that the impulses of the body are to be held in check, and the inward and hidden life cherished—that the sum of holiness and bliss is the annihilation of self, or “inward death,” and the conscious union of the soul to God—that thus we do truly enter into rest, enjoying (as one of them expresses it) “the most calm and peaceful liberty, being uplifted above all fear and agitation of mind, concerning death or hell, or any other things which might happen to the soul either in time or eternity.”* Here was a living protest against rationalism, formalism, priestcraft, and all self striving of the creature, whether in the realm of providence or of grace, and a plea for a life of simple trust in God and acquiescence in His sovereign will.†

* “Christ reveals Himself with an infinite love, sweetness, and richness flowing forth from the power of the Holy Ghost, overflowing and streaming in a very flood of richness and sweetness into the heart that is waiting to receive it; and with this sweetness He not only reveals Himself to the soul, but unites Himself with her. Through this sweetness, the soul in its essence by grace flows out with power above all creatures, back into her first origin and fount. Then is the outward man obedient unto the inward man, even unto death, and liveth in constant peace in the service of God continually. That the Lord may thus come into our souls also, overthrowing and casting out all hindrances, bodily or spiritual that we may become one here on earth, and hereafter in the kingdom of heaven, may He help us evermore.”—*Tauler*: 1290—1361.

† There is a sublime side to the story—told, I think, by Dr. John Brown, in his *Hora Subseciva*—of the woman on her death-bed who was

THE REFORMATION TIMES.

In this movement, that has never been quite interrupted, the influence of this Apostle is distinctly perceptible. It is not that light has been thrown upon his writings by the mystics, but that the mystics have received an impress from his peculiar individuality. At the same time, there are profound differences apparent. Under the mystic's gaze there oftentimes lay no object whatever; oftentimes he gazed into vacuity, and mistook his own imaginings for the revelation of God. The Apostle John is not only intensely contemplative, but at the same time intensely objective; the glory he beholds is not that which is seen in a trance, but that which shines forth from the face of the Only-begotten. The mystic sat in still seclusion, with the world of sensible appearances shut out, and (gazing with closed eyes) supposed that he saw the invisible: the gaze of John, on the other hand, was fixed upon the Christ, the image of God, as actually and historically manifested. The result attained by the mystic was often vague, misty, fantastic, wild, throbbing with a false emotion; that, on the other hand, which is presented to us in the pages of John is most thoroughly sober and true.

In the time of the Reformation and onwards—as has been often remarked—PAUL assumed the paramount place as the leader of Christian thought. Taking the two mighty questions which were dealt with in Reformation times—our Freedom as against human authority, wheresoever lodged, and Justification by grace through the faith of Christ Jesus and not by human merits his writings furnished the texts which the Reformers mainly handled, and his name, rather than John's, is the name we oftenest meet with. It may be safely affirmed that, in and since the Reformation, more asked, "What would you say if, after all He has done for you, God should let you drop into hell?" "E'en as He likes," was the reply; "but if He does, He'll lose mair than I'll do."

THE SUPERNATURAL.

study by far has been given to the writings of Paul than to those of John, even when the fullest allowance has been made for the larger volume of the former. We seem to feel more at home with Paul; our intellect can more easily hold its footing with him. There are signs however which appear to indicate that God is about to use the writings of John more extensively and powerfully again. The questions which are coming into prominence—or looming in the not distant future—are questions on which these writings throw special light.

For example: Men are loudly telling us (though, as I believe, without the warrant of science herself) that the “scientific spirit” cannot possibly admit the supernatural. Belief in any intromission of the supernatural in history must, they affirm, be abandoned as a superstition—an affirmation which rests on the tacit assumption that there is no realm in the universe save that which lies open to the five senses, or—which is the same thing—to the extension of the senses in scientific apparatus. The consequence is an uncomfortable sense of insecurity in many minds in reading the four Gospels—particularly the fourth; and a starting of the thought, *If Christ be not risen?* There is even at times what looks like an *apologizing* for the supernatural in the life of Christ—as if we gained something in proportion as we reduce its dimensions.

How are we to meet this denial of the supernatural in history?—a denial of it not merely as the actual, but as the possible? Not, as I believe, by argument, but by re-uttering in simplicity and fulness the testimony of those who saw, and heard, and handled, the manifested Word of Life, and who “know” that what they tell us is true; speaking to sinners and not to philosophers, and leaving God (as of old) to give testimony in *His* own way to the word of His grace. You may browbeat a man to whose heart the truth

"MY NEW NAME."

has been revealed, and who has seen it; you may perplex him with questions; you may cover his position with ridicule; but you cannot prevent his looking up and saying, "Nevertheless I have seen and do testify." In the face of all denials of the supernatural, I believe our business is to fall back on the apostolic testimony—as delivered by John and his companions—and trust God Himself to prove it to men, and to carry it home to their minds and hearts.

Another thing I would refer to. The struggle between faith and unbelief in the present day, as in the beginning, is concentrating around THE PERSON OF THE LORD. It is clearly perceived that unless He can be successfully assailed, the battle of unbelief is lost. The numerous "Lives" of Christ published within the last thirty years are full of meaning as a sign of the times. He is "set" in our midst—as of old—"for the fall and rising of many, and for a sign that shall be spoken against, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed."

In this struggle, already commenced, the writings of John are invaluable. The very hostility exhibited against him is tribute to his power. So I interpret the unsuppressed contemptuousness and scorn with which he is treated, and the fierce eagerness to put his testimony out of court or to deprive it of force. And I anticipate that as deeper and more sympathetic study is given to his writings, the Saviour whom he describes—"the Christ that is to be"—will become in all ways grander and more majestic to us. We know how the heavens have become grander and more majestic to advancing science. Every star was there in the time of the old Chaldee gazers, pursuing its silent march the same as now; but to the human eye what glory has been kindled since! Even so with "the glories of the Lamb." I know not what magnificent and blissful revelations of Himself may be included under that word which

PERSONALITY OF JOHN.

He speaks—"*My New Name*;" but this Apostle will help us to understand. And to rise to the understanding may well prove what Bacon calls "the Sabbath of human labours."

There is also an influence still proceeding—such is God's grace—from the MAN as well as from his WRITINGS, even after the lapse of so many centuries. Truly has it been said, "The personality of John left far deeper traces of itself in the Church than that of any other of Christ's disciples. Paul laboured more abundantly than they all, but John stamped his image the most profoundly." This applies not merely to John's own age, and the ages immediately following, but also to the present.

Personally he stands forth to view as one of the noblest instances in history of Christ's transforming, all-commanding power. He could never, under any circumstances, have been an ordinary man; if hostile to Christ, he would have been not less resolute and unshrinking than Saul of Tarsus, even when he breathed out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord—though in another way. It is tribute to the power of Christ that He subdued and dominated such a nature.

A traveller, giving an account of an ancient volcano which he visited, tells of a verdurous cup-like hollow on the mountain summit, and that, where the fierce heat had once burned, lay a still, clear pool of water, looking up like an eye to the beautiful heavens above. It is an apt parable of this man. Naturally and originally volcanic, capable of profoundest passion and daring, he is new-made by grace, till in his old age he stands out in calm grandeur of character, and depth, and largeness of soul, with all the gentlenesses and graces of Christ adorning him—a man, as I image him to myself, with a face so noble that kings might do him homage, and so sweet that children would run to him for his blessing. All readers of the Evangelic narrative must

OUR SHORTCOMINGS.

perceive what fine “keeping” there is between the picture of Jesus and that of the disciple whom He loved—and what an illustration of the words, “We, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

And so a holy and even sublime influence still comes forth from this man—because Jesus was so much to him and there was so much of Jesus in him and enters vitally into hearts and lives, wheresoever the gospel is preached in all the world.

I am persuaded that one result, under God, of our entering more deeply and lovingly into the spirit of John, would be the attainment of a nobler type of Christianhood than prevails among us.

Temptations certainly beset us in this age to be selfish and self-indulgent to degenerate into sentimentalists or accusers of the brethren, who earn a name for faithfulness by bitter fault finding to walk according to the course of the world, getting into “good society,” and doing what is religiously fashionable—to forget our high calling, and the Lord’s will concerning us—and to be at the mercy of circumstances and prevailing influences.

How far such temptations have been yielded to, it is not necessary to pronounce. Sorrowful complaints arise from many quarters that we fall beneath the level we ought to attain to; that there is too much bustle, and talk, and vehemence of the flesh, among us—too much faith in machinery—too much faith in “doing”—too much looking to the outward—too much self-pleasing—too much religious activity that is irreligious in its spirit, and that tends to deterioration of character—too much of that

“restless will

That hurries to and fro,

Seeking for some great thing to do,

Or secret thing to know.”

COMMUNION WITH JESUS.

Meditation does not occupy sufficient breadth of space in our lives; it is crowded out by a multitude of trifles. Many of us scarcely know what “the hidden life” means. Martha is our model—loving Jesus truly, but her time filled up with bodily service, and carefulness about many things; while we have no real sympathy—or only the slightest—with Mary sitting silently at Jesus’ feet and hearing his words, or anointing Him silently with her precious ointment—or with John leaning on His breast. I wish there were more of us who knew not only how to “serve” like Martha, but also how to say from the heart—

“Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet,

From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low.”

I say nothing whatever against “the practical,” truly so called; nothing against work, and labour, and patience, and cross-bearing, and the enduring of hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ; nothing that would give comfort to indolence. There is room and need for the most earnest efforts that we can put forth. But—for sustained and earnest Christian effort—do we not pressingly need men and women who lead the inner life—who have renounced self—who live away from the sounds of human applause or blame—who never think whether “the world is laughing at us” or not—who dispose of all questions about “will” by proving what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God—who love and use earthly things for heavenly ends—who, when they come forth among men, are as if they came forth from the presence-chamber of the Holy One—and whose hearts are fixed, trusting in the Lord?

These are our saints and our mighty ones, though the religious world (none the less “world” that it is “religious”) knows them not, or surveys them with scorn, fine or rude. Did our fellowship consist of such men and women, how new the condition of matters would become! We should

CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP.

stand aloof from religious rhetoric, from outward noise and the “hoarse disputes” of the age,\* from the merely intellectual and æsthetic, from that dread religious sensuousness which lays the soul open to the worst influences of hell, just as she imagines herself rapt into the borders of Paradise; and our lives would be a reproducing of the life of Christ. We should learn to have patience with God in His working out of His mighty purposes, and to accept His law of growth.

Every one of our churches would then be a meet home for the new life; a place of freedom, brotherly confidence, joy, finest and truest concords both of heart and intellect; an earthly type of the Father’s house. People would not talk hesitatingly about *the duty* of joining the Church, but would regard it as a high privilege to be admitted. We should gather in young converts among us, in the ardour of their first love, and not chill it. We should have place for all the stages of growth, for the winningness of Christian childhood, the enthusiasm of youth, the strength of manhood, the rich experiences of age. We should reconcile all classes, thinker and worker, reasoner and seer, impulsive and cautious, and whatever other classes may be named, melting them into one brotherhood. We should have room for all varieties of Christian character and life, according to the diverse yet harmonious operation of the Spirit of God, with space and sunlight and air for each to grow. We should provide defence for our members, not only against the grosser forms of evil, but against those also which are more subtle, such as lukewarmness or covetousness. We should find ourselves in sympathy with all goodness that

\* “Had I a strong voice, as it is the weakest alive, yea, could I lift it up as a trumpet, I would sound a retreat from our unnatural contentions and irreligious strivings for religion.”—*Leighton*.

THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES.

exists around us, and with all good men in whom Christ, the Truth, dwells.

Our spiritual power would be multiplied an hundredfold. Into the great, varied life of men around us, with its scheming and toiling; its philosophy, science, and art; its folly, vice, misery, and unshaped fears—we should be enabled to enter, with the “word of life” as a word which is proven in our own deepest experience, and which is fashioning our own being; and in a sense most real, we should put forth the very power of Christ Himself.

We should likewise be guided in our investigations into Divine truth, and preserved from misleading things—as the spirit of sophistry, pride of heart, pride of intellect, pride of church, the blinding influence of cherished sin, and other similar causes of error; and we should be enabled to extend true aid to those who are unhappily involved in religious doubts and perplexities.

For the attaining of a life that secures such ends, let us joyfully remember that we are dependent on the Lord. He is the Vine, we are the branches. In our vital union to Him—as we abide in Him and He in us—lies our hope. Part of the means He employs for unfolding this life in us—and one of the richest parts—is the truth which He has disclosed to the Church through the disciple whom He loved. Therefore would I earnestly plead for the devout and loving study of these inspired writings, as well as of the life of the man to whom such grace was given.

NOTE.


UMEROUS traditions and legends gather round the name of the Apostle John—some of them truth-like and with a probable foundation in fact; others wholly groundless and unworthy of credit. In this

Appendix I give a few of the more notable by way of example. Many of them have a very monkish flavour, and are intrinsically worthless. They are kin to what Milton has in view when he speaks of whatsoever “time or the heedless hand of blind chance hath drawn down from of old to this present, in her huge drag-net, whether fish or sea-weed, shells or shrubbs, unpickt, unchosen;” and they indicate what sort of New Testament we should have had, if we had been left to the mercy of those who gathered and preserved such stuff. A glance at them may teach us to be more thankful for the New Testament—from which they are sundered by a chasm so vast—and to take our “firm station” (as Milton puts it) in our “strong guards and places of safety under the tuition of Holy Writ.”

J. C.