December 9

with them; nor did he attempt to consider every objection their prejudices urged—But he had—he felt one invincible, undeniable argument—"This," says he, "is sufficient for me." You say, he is a sinner—Is it likely a sinner would be so honoured of God as he has been? Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind. If this man was not of God he could do nothing. This however I must leave with you—I know what he has done for me, and cannot be mistaken—whether he be a sinner I know not; "one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see."

A Christian indeed is not an enthusiast. He despises no kind of evidence; and he wishes that his religion may always appear what it really is, a reasonable service. But he that believeth hath the witness in himself. Like this man, has a satisfaction derived from experience. He has received the truth in the love and efficiency of it. He has felt its power and blessedness. Such a man could be safely trusted among infidels. They may scoff and ridicule; they may even perplex him; but they cannot induce a conviction contrary to his views and feelings. He has a certainty, out of which he can neither be laughed or reasoned. His heart is established with grace. And thus also he is secure, not only from infidelity, but heresy; and cannot be drawn away from the truth as it is in Jesus, or the peculiar doctrines of divine grace. With him they are not mere notions, but principles. They are spirit and they are life. They sanctify, quicken, refresh his soul. If a man who sees could be introduced among a people entirely blind, they would consider him a har or a madman, when he told them what he saw. Yet though he would not contemn them because of their blindness, but feel pity instead of pride, he would be in no danger of yielding to their opinion: he would know that he spoke the words of truth and soberness—He would know that though they were blind he saw.

This also qualifies a man for dealing with others in divine things. It excites his zeal, and enables him to speak with earnestness, because he can speak without hesitation or doubt. "Lo this, we have searched it, so it is; hear it, and know thou it for thy good." "That which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us: and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ."

This also yields him a prop against despair, and a cordial under discouragement. He feels that he is far from what he ought to be, and wishes to be. "I have much," says he, "to humble me, but I am not without cause for thankfulness. He has made me to differ from others, and from myself once. I know he has enabled me to see the evil of sin, the beauty of holiness, the worth of his grace. I know I love his salvation; and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord—And if he were pleased to kill me, he would not have shown me such things as these."

DECEMBER 9.—"He shall see of the TRAVAIL OF HIS SOUL, and shall be satisfied."—Isaiah 56:11.

This verse contains an epitome of the whole chapter; and the 26*

chapter contains an epitome of the whole Gospel. For what is the Gospel—but “the testimony of Jesus?” And what does this testimony essentially include—but “the sufferings of Christ and the glory that should follow?” And if “the angels desire to look into these things”—how much more should we, to whom they are not only true, and wonderful, and sublime—but infinitely important and necessary? Let me therefore indulge in three meditations on this all-interesting subject.

The allusion is obvious. “A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world.” A comparison should never be pressed beyond its lawful bounds. The attempt made to force too much out of it, not only renders it absurd, but weakens it, and the spirit flies off evaporated in particles. It should suffice here to observe, that there is a strong and striking resemblance between the delivered mother and the risen Saviour. In each case there is suffering. In each case the suffering is followed by pleasure. And in each case the pleasure is deemed the recompence of the suffering—The birth of the child repays the throes of the mother; and the salvation of the Church satisfies the Saviour: “He shall see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied.” The TRAVAIL OF HIS SOUL.

From ignorance and the degree of interest which things acquire in their relation to ourselves, every sufferer is prone to think that his endurings are peculiar and superior. Jesus could say with infinite propriety, “Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger.” Two things here intimate the greatness of his passion. First, the term by which it is expressed. “Travail”—not trouble—but “travail.” And, secondly, the principal seat of it; “his soul”—“The travail of his soul.” The distress of the soul is the soul of distress.

Some persons are not qualified to enter into a comparison between corporeal and mental affliction. They are a kind of human animals. They are masses of flesh and blood. They have senses, and passions, and appetites; and little else. They lie down and rise up; they sleep and wake; they hunger and thirst—But they never suffer unless when they have nothing to eat, or when they cry out with bodily pain. They are strangers to all that interior of wo which to feeling minds renders the world a wilderness, more than the thorns and briars without. “The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity: but a wounded spirit who can bear?” While all is calm and firm within, external trials are borne with comparative ease. Then we may be “troubled on every side, yet not distressed;” like a ship in the sea, which does not sink by the water around it, but only by what gets through and gets in.

But there are some who have not only “fightings without,” but “fears within.” They know what inward anguish and depression mean. Ah! says David, “My bones are vexed, my soul is also sore vexed”—“O, my God, my soul is cast down within me.” And how was it with his Son, whom he yet in spirit calls his Lord? His sufferings were “the travail of his soul.” Not that he was free from other afflictions. With regard to outward distresses, he was

a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. But even his external sufferings derived much of their pressure from the sensibility of his mind, for he was all feeling. Some are little affected, even with bereavements: but he, at the grave of Lazarus, groaned in spirit and wept. Some seem careless of reputation; but he said, "reproach hath broken my heart." Some when "stricken" are not "grieved," and "have made their faces harder than a rock;" but he "in the days of his flesh in due supplications with strong cryings and tears." But what led him to exclaim on the cross, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" What made him in the garden, before the hand of man had yet touched him, to be "sore amazed and very heavy?" What led him to say, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death?" while "his sweat was as it were drops of blood falling to the ground?"

"The thought of his approaching crucifixion," say some. If so, what becomes of the pre-eminence of his example? We can fetch many from history who had to endure more torturing and lingering agonies—And yet they rejoiced in the prospect, left their prisons singing, kissed the instrument of their pain, and thanked the executioner. How did Bradford, when informed that he was to be burnt at the stake the following day, fall upon his knees and praise God for an honour he had so long waited for? When a popish priest said to Hooper at the place of execution, "I am truly sorry to find you here;" the martyr replied, "O man, keep thy sorrow to thyself, and mourn over thine own wickedness. I am well blessed by God, and to die for the sake of Christ is sweet to my soul." Is then the servant above the master, or the disciple above his Lord? Here—and we will venture to say, here alone, can be found a complete and satisfactory solution. They had Calvary before them, but not Gethsemane. They had to endure the cross, but not the curse. They died by men, but not for them. They had not to bear the sins of many: they had not to bear their own sins—not one of their own sins—or they would have sunk down under the burden. But he bare our sins in his own body on the tree. The Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all. Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. The chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his stripes we are healed. HIS SOUL WAS MADE AN OFFERING FOR SIN.

DECEMBER 10.—"He SHALL SEE of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied."—Isaiah 59:11.

SOMETHING therefore was to be derived from the travail of his soul. It was the salvation of sinners. To show that this infinite good results from his suffering, he compares his dying to the sowing of seed, which dies, and then produces. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die it abideth alone: but if it die it bringeth forth much fruit." Here we are reminded of our obligations to him. If we are reconciled unto God, it is by the death of his Son: if we are redeemed from the curse of the law, it is because he was made a curse for us. The blessing, though free to us, was beyond expression expensive to him. He accomplished it, not by a mere volition of his will, or an exertion of his power, but by his obedience unto death, even the death of the cross.