We have here, evidently, only the rudiments of a sermon, but a very fine one, a very suggestive one. To most minds, the Bible has, probably, been, as Thomas Carlyle, or Jean Paul, would express it, “an eyeless socket, without the eye.” Christmas Evans was expressing, in this very suggestive sermon, the thoughts of some men whose words, and works he had probably never met with; as George Herbert says it—
“In ev’ry thing Thy words do find me out.”
“Beyond any other book,” says Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “the Bible _finds_ me;” while John Keble, in the “Christian Year,”—probably written about the same time, when Christmas Evans was preparing his sermon,—was employing the very same image in some of his most impressive words:—
“_Eye of God’s Word_! where’er we turn, Ever upon us! thy keen gaze Can all the depths of sin discern, Unravel every bosom’s maze:
“Who, that has felt thy glance of dread Thrill through his heart’s remotest cells, About his path, about his bed, Can doubt what Spirit in thee dwells?”
In the following extract, we have a more sustained passage, very fresh, and noble:—
“In this world, every man receives according to his faith; in the world to come, every man shall receive according to his works. ‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.’ Their works do not go _before_ them, to divide the river of Jordan, and open the gates of heaven. This is done by their faith. But their works are left behind, as if done up in a packet, on this side of the river. John saw the great white throne, descending for judgment, the Son of man sitting thereon, and all nations gathered before Him. He is dividing the righteous from the wicked, as the shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats. The wicked are set on the left hand—‘Depart from me, ye accursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels!’ But the righteous are placed on the right hand, to hear the joyful welcome—‘Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world!’ The books are opened, and Mercy presents the packets that were left on the other side of Jordan. They are all opened, and the books are read, wherein all their acts of benevolence are recorded. Justice examines the several packets, and answers—‘All right. Here they are. Thus it is written—“I was hungry, and ye gave Me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; I was naked, and ye clothed Me; I was in prison, and ye came unto Me!”’ The righteous look upon each other, with wonder, and answer—‘Those packets must belong to others. We know nothing of all that. We recollect the wormwood, and the gall. We recollect the strait gate, the narrow way, and the slough of despond. We recollect the heavy burden, that pressed so hard upon us, and how it fell from our shoulders, at the sight of the cross. We recollect the time, when the eyes of our minds were opened, to behold the evil of sin, the depravity of our hearts, and the excellency of our Redeemer. We recollect the time when our stubborn wills were subdued, in the day of His power, so that we were enabled both to will, and to do, of His good pleasure. We recollect the time, when we obtained hope in the merit of Christ, and felt the efficacy of His blood, applied to our hearts by the Holy Spirit. And we shall never forget the time, when we first experienced the love of God, shed abroad in our hearts. Oh, how sweetly, and powerfully it constrained us to love Him, His cause, and His ordinances! How we panted after communion, and fellowship with Him, as the hart panteth after the water-brooks! All this, and a thousand other things, are as fresh in our memory as ever. But we recollect nothing of those bundles of good works. Where was it? Lord, when saw we Thee hungry, and fed Thee; or thirsty, and gave Thee drink; or a stranger, and took Thee in; or naked, and clothed Thee? We have no more recollection, than the dead, of ever having visited Thee in prison, or ministered to Thee in sickness. Surely, those bundles cannot belong to us.’ Mercy replies—‘Yes, verily, they belong to you; for your names are upon them; and, besides, they have not been out of my hands since you left them on the stormy banks of Jordan.’ And the King answers—‘Verily, I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.’