You have doubtless heard of Atheists. An Atheist is one who professes to believe that there is no G.o.d, no Creator, no First Cause, and that all things came together in this world by mere chance.--Now shall we listen to such a doctrine as this? Go, take an Atheist to one of the excellent surgical schools of our land, and ask him to study the wonderful structure of the human body. Show him the matchless skill with which every joint, and vein, and valve, and muscle, and sinew, and nerve, and bone, and limb, has been formed. Show him the perfect adaptation of every part of the human frame to the purpose which it serves. Show him the thousand delicate contrivances for meeting wear and tear, and supplying daily waste of vigour. And then ask this man who denies the being of a G.o.d, and a great First Cause, if all this wonderful mechanism is the result of chance? Ask him if it came together at first by luck and accident? Ask him if he so thinks about the watch he looks at, the bread he eats, or the coat he wears? Oh, no! Design is an insuperable difficulty in the Atheist's way. _There is a G.o.d._

You have doubtless heard of Deists. A Deist is one who professes to believe that there is a G.o.d, who made the world and all things therein.

But He does not believe the Bible. "A G.o.d, but no Bible!--a Creator, but no Christianity!" This is the Deist's creed.--Now, shall we listen to this doctrine? Go again, I say, and take a Deist to an hospital, and show him some of the awful handiwork of disease. Take him to the bed where lies some tender child, scarce knowing good from evil, with an incurable cancer. Send him to the ward where there is a loving mother of a large family in the last stage of some excruciating disease. Show him some of the racking pains and agonies to which flesh is heir, and ask him to account for them. Ask this man, who believes there is a great and wise G.o.d who made the world, but cannot believe the Bible,--ask him how he accounts for these traces of disorder and imperfection in his G.o.d's creation. Ask this man, who sneers at Christian theology and is too wise to believe the fall of Adam,--ask him upon his theory to explain the universal prevalence of pain and disease in the world. You may ask in vain! You will get no satisfactory answer. Sickness and suffering are insuperable difficulties in the Deist's way. _Man has sinned, and therefore man suffers._ Adam fell from his first estate, and therefore Adam's children sicken and die.

The universal prevalence of sickness is one of the indirect evidences that the Bible is true. The Bible explains it. The Bible answers the questions about it which will arise in every inquiring mind. No other systems of religion can do this. They all fail here. They are silent.

They are confounded. The Bible alone looks the subject in the face. It boldly proclaims the fact that man is a fallen creature, and with equal boldness proclaims a vast remedial system to meet his wants. I feel shut up to the conclusion that the Bible is from G.o.d. Christianity is a revelation from heaven. "Thy word is truth." (John xvii. 17.)

Let us stand fast on the old ground, that the Bible, and the Bible only, is G.o.d's revelation of Himself to man. Be not moved by the many new a.s.saults which modern scepticism is making on the inspired volume. Heed not the hard questions which the enemies of the faith are fond of putting about Bible difficulties, and to which perhaps you often feel unable to give an answer. Anchor your soul firmly on this safe principle,--that the whole book is G.o.d's truth. Tell the enemies of the Bible that, in spite of all their arguments, there is no book in the world which will bear comparison with the Bible,--none that so thoroughly meets man's wants,--none that explains so much of the state of mankind. As to the hard things in the Bible, tell them you are content to wait. You find enough plain truth in the book to satisfy your conscience and save your soul. The hard things will be cleared up one day. What you know not now, you will know hereafter.

II. The second point I propose to consider is _the general benefits which sickness confers on mankind_.

I use that word "benefits" advisedly. I feel it of deep importance to see this part of our subject clearly. I know well that sickness is one of the supposed weak points in G.o.d's government of the world, on which sceptical minds love to dwell.--"Can G.o.d be a G.o.d of love, when He allows pain? Can G.o.d be a G.o.d of mercy, when He permits disease? He might prevent pain and disease; but He does not. How can these things be?" Such is the reasoning which often comes across the heart of man.

I reply to all such reasoners, that their doubts and questionings are most unreasonable. They might us well doubt the existence of a Creator, because the order of the universe is disturbed by earthquakes, hurricanes, and storms. They might as well doubt the providence of G.o.d, because of the horrible ma.s.sacres of Delhi and Cawnpore. All this would be just as reasonable as to doubt the mercy of G.o.d, because of the presence of sickness in the world.

I ask all who find it hard to reconcile the prevalence of disease and pain with the love of G.o.d, to cast their eyes on the world around them, and to mark what is going on. I ask them to observe the extent to which men constantly submit to present loss for the sake of future gain,--present sorrow for the sake of future joy,--present pain for the sake of future health. The seed is thrown into the ground, and rots: but we sow in the hope of a future harvest. The boy is sent to school amidst many tears: but we send him in the hope of his getting future wisdom.

The father of a family undergoes some fearful surgical operation: but he bears it, in the hope of future health.--I ask men to apply this great principle to G.o.d's government of the world. I ask them to believe that G.o.d allows pain, sickness, and disease, not because He loves to vex man, but because He desires to benefit man's heart, and mind, and conscience, and soul, to all eternity.

Once more I repeat, that I speak of the "benefits" of sickness on purpose and advisedly. I know the suffering and pain which sickness entails. I admit the misery and wretchedness which it often brings in its train. But I cannot regard it as an unmixed evil. I see in it a wise permission of G.o.d. I see in it a useful provision to check the ravages of sin and the devil among men's souls. If man had never sinned I should have been at a loss to discern the benefit of sickness. But since sin is in the world, I can see that sickness is a good. It is a blessing quite as much as a curse. It is a rough schoolmaster, I grant. But it is a real friend to man's soul.

(_a_) Sickness helps to _remind men of death_. The most live as if they were never going to die. They follow business, or pleasure, or politics, or science, as if earth was their eternal home. They plan and scheme for the future, like the rich fool in the parable, as if they had a long lease of life, and were not tenants at will. A heavy illness sometimes goes far to dispel these delusions. It awakens men from their day-dreams, and reminds them that they have to die as well as to live.

Now this I say emphatically is a mighty good.

(_b_) Sickness helps to _make men think seriously of G.o.d_, and their souls, and the world to come. The most in their days of health can find no time for such thoughts. They dislike them. They put them away. They count them troublesome and disagreeable. Now a severe disease has sometimes a wonderful power of mustering and rallying these thoughts, and bringing them up before the eyes of a man's soul. Even a wicked king like Benhadad, when sick, could think of Elisha. (2 Kings viii. 8.) Even heathen sailors, when death was in sight, were afraid, and "cried every man to his G.o.d." (Jonah i. 5.) Surely anything that helps to make men think is a good.

(_c_) Sickness helps to _soften men's hearts_, and teach them wisdom.

The natural heart is as hard as a stone. It can see no good in anything which is not of this life, and no happiness excepting in this world. A long illness sometimes goes far to correct these ideas. It exposes the emptiness and hollowness of what the world calls "good" things, and teaches us to hold them with a loose hand. The man of business finds that money alone is not everything the heart requires. The woman of the world finds that costly apparel, and novel-reading, and the reports of b.a.l.l.s and operas, are miserable comforters in a sick room. Surely anything that obliges us to alter our weights and measures of earthly things is a real good.

(_d_) Sickness helps to _level and humble us_. We are all naturally proud and high-minded. Few, even of the poorest, are free from the infection. Few are to be found who do not look down on somebody else, and secretly flatter themselves that they are "not as other men." A sick bed is a mighty tamer of such thoughts as these. It forces on us the mighty truth that we are all poor worms, that we "dwell in houses of clay," and are "crushed before the moth" (Job iv. 19), and that kings and subjects, masters and servants, rich and poor, are all dying creatures, and will soon stand side by side at the bar of G.o.d. In the sight of the coffin and the grave it is not easy to be proud. Surely anything that teaches that lesson is good.

(_e_) Finally, sickness helps _to try men's religion_, of what sort it is. There are not many on earth who have on religion at all. Yet few have a religion that will bear inspection. Most are content with traditions received from their fathers, and can render no reason of the hope that is in them. Now disease is sometimes most useful to a man in exposing the utter worthlessness of his soul's foundation. It often shows him that he has nothing solid under his feet, and nothing firm under his hand. It makes him find out that, although he may have had a form of religion, he has been all his life worshipping "an unknown G.o.d."

Many a creed looks well on the smooth waters of health, which turns out utterly unsound and useless on the rough waves of the sick bed. The storms of winter often bring out the defects in a man's dwelling, and sickness often exposes the gracelessness of a man's soul. Surely anything that makes us find out the real character of our faith is a good.

I do not say that sickness confers these benefits on all to whom it comes. Alas, I can say nothing of the kind! Myriads are yearly laid low by illness, and restored to health, who evidently learn no lesson from their sick beds, and return again to the world. Myriads are yearly pa.s.sing through sickness to the grave, and yet receiving no more spiritual impression from it than the beasts that perish. While they live they have no feeling, and when they die there are "no bands in their death." (Psalm lxxiii. 4.) These are awful things to say. But they are true. The degree of deadness to which man's heart and conscience may attain, is a depth which I cannot pretend to fathom.

But does sickness confer the benefits of which I have been speaking on only a few? I will allow nothing of the kind. I believe that in very many cases sickness produces impressions more or less akin to those of which I have just been speaking. I believe that in many minds sickness is G.o.d's "day of visitation," and that feelings are continually aroused on a sick bed which, if improved, might, by G.o.d's grace, result in salvation. I believe that in heathen lands sickness often paves the way for the missionary, and makes the poor idolater lend a willing ear to the glad tidings of the Gospel. I believe that in our own land sickness is one of the greatest aids to the minister of the Gospel, and that sermons and counsels are often brought home in the day of disease which we have neglected in the day of health. I believe that sickness is one of G.o.d's most important subordinate instruments in the saving of men, and that though the feelings it calls forth are often temporary, it is also often a means whereby the Spirit works effectually on the heart. In short, I believe firmly that the sickness of men's bodies has often led, in G.o.d's wonderful providence, to the salvation of men's souls.

I leave this branch of my subject here. It needs no further remark. If sickness can do the things of which I have been speaking (and who will gainsay it?), if sickness in a wicked world can help to make men think of G.o.d and their souls, then sickness confers benefits on mankind.

We have no right to murmur at sickness, and repine at its presence in the world. We ought rather to thank G.o.d for it. It is G.o.d's witness. It is the soul's adviser. It is an awakener to the conscience. It is a purifier to the heart. Surely I have a right to tell you that sickness is a blessing and not a curse,--a help and not an injury,--a gain and not a loss,--a friend and not a foe to mankind. So long as we have a world wherein there is sin, it is a mercy that it is a world wherein there is sickness.

III. The third and last point which I propose to consider, is _the special duties which the prevalence of sickness entails on each one of ourselves_.

I should be sorry to leave the subject of sickness without saying something on this point. I hold it to be of cardinal importance not to be content with generalities in delivering G.o.d's message to souls. I am anxious to impress on each one into whose hands this paper may fall, his own personal responsibility in connection with the subject. I would fain have no one lay down this paper unable to answer the questions,--"What practical lesson have I learned? What, in a world of disease and death, what ought I to do?"

(_a_) One paramount duty which the prevalence of sickness entails on man, is that of _living habitually prepared to meet G.o.d_. Sickness is a remembrancer of death. Death is the door through which we must all pa.s.s to judgment. Judgment is the time when we must at last see G.o.d face to face. Surely the first lesson which the inhabitant of a sick and dying world should learn should be to prepare to meet his G.o.d.

When are you prepared to meet G.o.d? Never till your iniquities are forgiven, and your sin covered! Never till your heart is renewed, and your will taught to delight in the will of G.o.d! You have many sins. If you go to church your own mouth is taught to confess this every Sunday.

The blood of Jesus Christ can alone cleanse those sins away. The righteousness of Christ can alone make you acceptable in the sight of G.o.d. Faith, simple childlike faith, can alone give you an interest in Christ and His benefits. Would you know whether you are prepared to meet G.o.d? Then where is your faith?--Your heart is naturally unmeet for G.o.d's company. You have no real pleasure in doing His will. The Holy Ghost must transform you after the image of Christ. Old things must pa.s.s away.

All things must become new. Would you know whether you are prepared to meet G.o.d? Then, where is your grace? Where are the evidences of your conversion and sanctification?

I believe that this, and nothing less than this, is preparedness to meet G.o.d. Pardon of sin and meetness for G.o.d's presence,--justification by faith and sanctification of the heart,--the blood of Christ sprinkled on us, and the Spirit of Christ dwelling in us,--these are the grand essentials of the Christian religion. These are no mere words and names to furnish bones of contention for wrangling theologians. These are sober, solid, substantial realities. To live in the actual possession of these things, in a world full of sickness and death, is the first duty which I press home upon your soul.

(_b_) Another paramount duty which the prevalence of sickness entails on you, is that of _living habitually ready to bear it patiently_. Sickness is no doubt a trying thing to flesh and blood. To feel our nerves unstrung, and our natural force abated,--to be obliged to sit still and be cut off from all our usual avocations,--to see our plans broken off and our purposes disappointed,--to endure long hours, and days, and nights of weariness and pain,--all this is a severe strain on poor sinful human nature. What wonder if peevishness and impatience are brought out by disease! Surely in such a dying world as this we should study patience.

How shall we learn to bear sickness patiently, when sickness comes to our turn? We must lay up stores of grace in the time of health. We must seek for the sanctifying influence of the Holy Ghost over our unruly tempers and dispositions. We must make a real business of our prayers, and regularly ask for strength to endure G.o.d's will as well as to do it.

Such strength is to be had for the asking: "If ye shall ask anything in my name, I will do it for you." (John xiv. 14.)

I cannot think it needless to dwell on this point. I believe the pa.s.sive graces of Christianity receive far less notice than they deserve.

Meekness, gentleness, long-suffering, faith, patience, are all mentioned in the Word of G.o.d as fruits of the Spirit. They are pa.s.sive graces which specially glorify G.o.d. They often make men think, who despise the active side of the Christian character. Never do these graces shine so brightly as they do in the sick room. They enable many a sick person to preach a silent sermon, which those around him never forget. Would you adorn the doctrine you profess? Would you make your Christianity beautiful in the eyes of others? Then take the hint I give you this day. Lay up a store of patience against the time of illness. Then, though your sickness be not to death, it shall be for the "glory of G.o.d." (John xi. 4.)

(_c_) One more paramount duty which the prevalence of sickness entails on you, is that of _habitual readiness to feel with and help your fellow-men_. Sickness is never very far from us. Few are the families who have not some sick relative. Few are the parishes where you will not find some one ill. But wherever there is sickness, there is a call to duty. A little timely a.s.sistance in some cases,--a kindly visit in others,--a friendly inquiry,--a mere expression of sympathy, may do a vast good. These are the sort of things which soften asperities, and bring men together, and promote good feeling. These are ways by which you may ultimately lead men to Christ and save their souls. These are good works to which every professing Christian should be ready. In a world full of sickness and disease we ought to "bear one another's burdens," and be "kind one to another." (Gal. vi. 2; Ephes. iv. 32.)

These things, I dare say, may appear to some little and trifling. They must needs be doing something great, and grand, and striking, and heroic! I take leave to say that conscientious attention to these little acts of brotherly-kindness is one of the clearest evidences of having "the mind of Christ." They are acts in which our blessed Master Himself was abundant. He was ever "going about doing good" to the sick and sorrowful. (Acts x. 38.) They are acts to which He attaches great importance in that most solemn pa.s.sage of Scripture, the description of the last judgment. He says there: "I was sick, and ye visited Me."

(Matt. xxv. 36.)

Have you any desire to prove the reality of your charity,--that blessed grace which so many talk of, and so few practise? If you have, beware of unfeeling selfishness and neglect of your sick brethren. Search them out. a.s.sist them if they need aid. Show your sympathy with them. Try to lighten their burdens. Above all, strive to do good to their souls. It will do you good if it does no good to them. It will keep your heart from murmuring. It may prove a blessing to your own soul. I firmly believe that G.o.d is testing and proving us by every case of sickness within our reach. By permitting suffering, He tries whether Christians have any feeling. Beware, lest you be weighed in the balances and found wanting. If you can live in a sick and dying world and not feel for others, you have yet much to learn.

I leave this branch of my subject here. I throw out the points I have named as suggestions, and I pray G.o.d that they may work in many minds. I repeat, that habitual preparedness to meet G.o.d,--habitual readiness to suffer patiently,--habitual willingness to sympathize heartily,--are plain duties which sickness entails on all. They are duties within the reach of every one. In naming them I ask nothing extravagant or unreasonable. I bid no man retire into a monastery and ignore the duties of his station. I only want men to realize that they live in a sick and dying world, and to live accordingly. And I say boldly, that the man who lives the life of faith, and holiness, and patience, and charity, is not only the most true Christian, but the most wise and reasonable man.

And now I conclude all with four words of practical application. I want the subject of this paper to be turned to some spiritual use. My heart's desire and prayer to G.o.d in placing it in this volume is to do good to souls.

(1) In the first place, I offer a _question_ to all who read this paper, to which, as G.o.d's amba.s.sador, I entreat their serious attention. It is a question which grows naturally out of the subject on which I have been writing. It is a question which concerns all, of every rank, and cla.s.s, and condition. I ask you, What will you do when you are ill?

The time must come when you, as well as others, must go down the dark valley of the shadow of death. The hour must come when you, like all your forefathers, must sicken and die. The time may be near or far off.

G.o.d only knows. But whenever the time may be, I ask again. What are you going to do? Where do you mean to turn for comfort? On what do you mean to rest your soul? On what do you mean to build your hope? From whence will you fetch your consolations?

I do entreat you not to put these questions away. Suffer them to work on your conscience, and rest not till you can give them a satisfactory answer. Trifle not with that precious gift, an immortal soul. Defer not the consideration of the matter to a more convenient season. Presume not on a death-bed repentance. The greatest business ought surely not to be left to the last. One dying thief was saved that men might not despair, but only one that none might presume. I repeat the question. I am sure it deserves an answer, "What will you do when you are ill?"

If you were going to live for ever in this world I would not address you as I do. But it cannot be. There is no escaping the common lot of all mankind. n.o.body can die in our stead. The day must come when we must each go to our long home. Against that day I want you to be prepared.

The body which now takes up so much of your attention--the body which you now clothe, and feed, and warm with so much care,--that body must return again to the dust. Oh, think what an awful thing it would prove at last to have provided for everything except the one thing needful,--to have provided for the body, but to have neglected the soul,--to die, in fact, like Cardinal Beaufort, and "give no sign" of being saved! Once more I press my question on your conscience: "What will you do when you are ill?"

(2) In the next place, I offer _counsel_ to all who feel they need it and are willing to take it,--to all who feel they are not yet prepared to meet G.o.d. That counsel is short and simple. Acquaint yourself with the Lord Jesus Christ without delay. Repent, be converted, flee to Christ, and be saved.

Either you have a soul or you have not. You will surely never deny that you have. Then if you have a soul, seek that soul's salvation. Of all gambling in the world, there is none so reckless as that of the man who lives unprepared to meet G.o.d, and yet puts off repentance.--Either you have sins or you have none. If you have (and who will dare to deny it?), break off from those sins, cast away your transgressions, and turn away from them without delay.--Either you need a Saviour or you do not. If you do, flee to the only Saviour this very day, and cry mightily to Him to save your soul. Apply to Christ at once. Seek Him by faith. Commit your soul into His keeping. Cry mightily to Him for pardon and peace with G.o.d. Ask Him to pour down the Holy Spirit upon you, and make you a thorough Christian. He will hear you. No matter what you have been, He will not refuse your prayer. He has said, "Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out." (John vi. 37.)

Beware, I beseech you, of a vague and indefinite Christianity. Be not content with a general hope that all is right because you belong to the old Church of England, and that all will be well at last because G.o.d is merciful. Rest not, rest not without personal union with Christ Himself.

Rest not, rest not till you have the witness of the Spirit in your heart, that you are washed, and sanctified, and justified, and one with Christ, and Christ in you. Rest not till you can say with the apostle, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him against that day." (2 Tim. i. 12.)

Vague, and indefinite, and indistinct religion may do very well in time of health. It will never do in the day of sickness. A mere formal, perfunctory Church-membership may carry a man through the sunshine of youth and prosperity. It will break down entirely when death is in sight. Nothing will do then but real heart-union with Christ. Christ interceding for us at G.o.d's right hand,--Christ known and believed as our Priest, our Physician, our Friend,--Christ alone can rob death of its sting and enable us to face sickness without fear. He alone can deliver those who through fear of death are in bondage. I say to every one who wants advice, Be acquainted with Christ. As ever you would have hope and comfort on the bed of sickness, be acquainted with Christ. Seek Christ. Apply to Christ.

Take every care and trouble to Him when you are acquainted with Him. He will keep you and carry you through all. Pour out your heart before Him, when your conscience is burdened. He is the true Confessor. He alone can absolve you and take the burden away. Turn to Him first in the day of sickness, like Martha and Mary. Keep on looking to Him to the last breath of your life. Christ is worth knowing. The more you know Him the better you will love Him. Then be acquainted with Jesus Christ.

(3) In the third place, I exhort all true Christians who read this paper to remember how much they may glorify G.o.d in the time of sickness, and to _lie quiet in G.o.d's hand when they are ill_.