Part 1

Transcribed from the [1864] edition by David Price, email [email protected]

TWO SERMONS PREACHED IN THE PARISH CHURCH OF NONINGTON, KENT,

JANUARY 17, 1864,

Being the Sunday following the Funeral of

JOHN PEMBERTON PLUMPTRE, ESQ., _OF FREDVILLE, IN THE SAME PARISH_.

* * * * *

BY THE REV. HERBERT JAMES, _Perpetual Curate of Goodnestone_, _Kent_,

AND THE

REV. EDWARD HOARE, _Incumbent of Trinity Church_, _Tunbridge Wells_.

* * * * *

DOVER: BATCHELLER. LONDON: NISBET, BERNERS STREET.

* * * * *

SERMON, BY THE REV. HERBERT JAMES.

“Remember them which have the rule over you (are the guides), who have spoken unto you the Word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation.”—Heb. xiii. 7.

God’s gifts to His Church are manifold. He has given Christ and eternal life in Him. He has given the Word of Christ, the precious casket which enshrines Him and His salvation. He has given the Holy Ghost to lead us by the Word Inspired to the Word Incarnate. And He has given Christians indeed—men and women saved by Christ—living embodiments of a living Saviour and a living Word, through the living Spirit.

In all these gifts He has a special purpose in view. They are not thrown at random into the world. God does nothing aimlessly.

When He called this world of ours into being, and gave it its proper place in the universe as the habitation for man,—when He gathered up the light into the light-bearers, and commanded them to be for signs, and for seasons, for days, and years,—when He put the topstone to creation, and set man upon the earth to be His representative,—in all this there was nothing without design. “He hath made His wonderful works to be remembered.”

And so, brethren, has He dealt in things of higher moment. When He gave His Son, His Word, His Spirit, His people, there was a meaning in each of these gifts. They are no accidents. His choosing is for our using. His mercies are for our minding. His gifts are for our gain, as well as for the glory of His own grace.

Now, this is specially true of that great, but often little-regarded, gift—_a Christian indeed_. It is a mistake to suppose that such an one is here merely to work out his own salvation, and heap up treasure for himself in the world to come.

He is _not_ here _for himself_. As an unconverted man an end is to be served by his being. As a converted man a far higher end is to be served by his being in Christ. He is God’s workmanship, God’s appointment _for others_;—a privilege for those amongst whom he is placed; a light to see by; salt to be savoured by; a leader to be marked; a guide to be followed.

The apostle recognises this truth in the scripture before us. He is writing to a people whom he wishes to establish in the faith. For this he plies them with motives, and suggests means. In so doing he comes to set before them those who were their guides in the faith. He urges them to follow their example whilst living, to treasure their memory when dead. They would find this a mighty help towards standing fast.

Brethren, _we_ are called to a like duty this day. We are met together, the poorer, most of us, by a friend; the richer, all of us, by a memory and an example. We have had—we still have—a gift of God, in the person of His sainted servant. We have had a real Christian to look upon and live by.

Let us listen, then, to these words of earnest exhortation, and “remember those who are the guides—following their faith, and considering the end (the termination), of their conversation.” Will you not pray that God the Holy Ghost may clothe His Word with new power, and enable me to speak so as to glorify God—to quicken, to comfort, to edify souls?

I propose more especially to take up the latter half of the verse, and to mark—

I. What God would have us _to follow_;

II. What God would have us to _consider_.

I. _What is it_, _then_, _which God would have us to follow_? The faith of those who are “guides.”

This leads me to observe _one view which every Christian ought to take of his position_. He is called to be a guide in the faith—by his life, if not by his words.

Now, brethren, I am aware that this is held to be almost exclusively the duty of ministers. The text is usually so applied. I have no wish to shift off the responsibility from them. They, if any, ought to go before the flock. Nor do I wish to put young Christians out of their proper place.

But I do hold very strongly that this responsibility of ministers is shared by all the servants of Christ. Whatever their position—whatever their measure of grace or gifts, they are called of God to lead on others in the faith, _in some measure_. One star may differ from another star in glory, or degree of brightness. One member of the body may differ from another in size and shape. But the least star has its place and power, and the least member its work and fitness for that work (1 Cor. xii. 21, 22). And so of each Christian. “As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.” Your standing as a Christian may not be advanced. Your measure of grace, to your own thinking, may be somewhat scant—but your working and example _up to the extent of that grace_, are necessary for the well-being of the whole body. To you, as well as to others, is this word spoken “Ye are my witnesses,” and by you, as well as by others, may comfort be afforded to some soul not yet gathered, some sheep yet straying upon the dark mountains. None are too small in God’s sight to be useful. None are so low down but they may help to lift up others. Every atom has a shadow. Every Christian has an influence. Believe me there is no such thing as an idle life—you are either a blight or a blessing.

This, then, I say, is one view which every Christian ought to take of his position. If he has faith, he has a faith to be followed. And this, too, is the view which others are to take of every such Christian. Wherever any such have realised their high calling, and risen to it, there would God have us remember them, and follow, or imitate, their faith.

But whilst I say this of all, it is emphatically true with respect to those who, by the grace of God, were, _in faith_, what they were.

Need I say that, until very lately, we had one in our midst who _did_ take a right view of his position, and who has left a pattern of faith which we should be only too glad to follow.

Looking at him as a Christian, I might justly use the words in which his spiritual helper of former days (Bishop Wilson) described Mr. Cecil: “All the finer materials which distinguished him as a man, were wrought up, if I may so say, and sanctified by the Holy Ghost.” But as it was more especially as a _man of faith_ that he stood out before the world, it is in this character that I would ask you to look at him.

And, here let me say once for all, that in speaking of him to-day, I desire to speak of him as _God’s handywork_.

I have no wish to exalt the creature. You know how he would have loathed any approach to that. But I do wish, however faintly, to set forth what God’s grace did for a poor, weak, sinful, erring man, of like passions with us. To that grace he owed all, and to the honour of that grace alone, I ascribe all his eminence as a guide in the faith.

_He believed through grace_. I am not aware of the exact time, or of the exact circumstances of his conversion, but I have reason to believe that for fifty years he had believed, and known Him in whom he believed.

The _ground_ and warrant of his faith was the sure Word of God.

The _object_ of it was _God in Christ_—a reconciling Father, a sufficient Saviour, an ever-present Counsellor and Comforter. He received that which was delivered to him—as it is also to us—that “Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.” This all-perfect, all-satisfying substitution and atonement of the Lord Jesus was from the first, and to the last, the one foundation of his trust, the one source of his life and strength. He felt this, and nothing less than this, to be necessary. He found this, and this alone, to be sufficient. He realised it. He rested on it. He rejoiced in it.

For among the more leading features of his faith, these two stand out:—its _fixedness_, and its _joyousness_.

_It was a fixed faith_. Having received the Word of God, he dealt with it as the Word of God. He submitted himself to its declarations with the simplicity of a little child. Where it warned, he took heed. Where it led, he followed. Where it promised, he took hold. And so having found it written therein that “they who believe are justified,” he believed, and was justified.

His faith grew into a full assurance, for assurance is but faith intensified. As such it wrought wondrously. By it he became what he was. It helped him to choose for God, and to be decided for the right. It enabled him to confess Christ before man, and to be steadfast when others were wavering. By this he overcame the world when it bid fair and high for his service, and by this he attempted not a few things for God, in a day when there were but few to stand by him. From this came his calmness in the midst of trouble, and from this his confidence in the hour of death. For thus he could say whilst passing into eternity:—“Were it not for mercy I should be lost; but by the mercy of God in Christ _I am saved_. Wonderful!” And again, “What _should_ I do without Christ. Such a poor sinner! but complete and accepted in the Beloved! Such a sure foundation. Such a great salvation!” “He will never leave me nor forsake me.” “I am complete in Him!”

_It was a joyous faith_. He did not barely know and assent, and rely—he _delighted_. Christ was the joy of his soul as well as the soul of his joys. His heart ran over with gladness as he thought of the freeness and sufficiency of the great Salvation. The grace that brought it—the power that wrought it—the blood which bought him for it—and the love which taught him how to use it—were the subjects of his unceasing thankfulness and praise.

The result of all this was a very sunny Christianity. He was not without his trials—what Christian is? But, with all, he seemed to have real enjoyment of his religion. The good news was good news to him, and he shewed it. “He joyed in God.”

O for a few more Christians of the same sort—men and women who believe, and live as if they believed! What a reproach would be rolled from the faith if we could but hold up our heads a little more! We do not want any alteration of doctrine to make Christian truth more attractive, but we do want more attractive cheerfulness in those who believe and know that truth.

Such, then, brethren in outline at least, is the faith which you and I are to follow. God would have us remember this guide, who thus spoke to us His word, and imitate, or copy, his faith.

_Are you_, _at this present speaking_, _an unbeliever_? Solemnly and personally, God calls upon you to believe. Do not say that it is out of the question for such an one as you are. Here was one who, like yourself, was once a stranger to God. But he obtained mercy. “The grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant toward him in faith.” That grace is offered to you—can work in you. Go to God for it as he went. You are invited to come. He is waiting to be gracious. He cannot deny you. Tell Him that you have come in Christ’s name, for the blessedness of those who know the joyful sound, and you will go forth walking in the light of His countenance.

_Are you weak in faith_? Be encouraged by this example, to believe more fixedly, more confidently. You have the same warrant, the same ground for your faith to rest upon—the word of truth, the Gospel of your Salvation. That assures you that all is done for you,—that a double punishment has been laid for you upon the Surety,—a double satisfaction rendered on your behalf by Him (Isaiah xl., 2), “Look at Christ set before you in the Gospel, and faith will come into exercise.” Then you will come to rest where our departed friend rested. It is no impossible attainment, no act of presumption. When the Lord is saying “Eat, O friends, yea drink—drink abundantly, O beloved,” surely we ought not to reply to His large-hearted offers with any other response than a large-hearted confidence.

And you, brethren, _who are walking in the steps of this faith_, set it still before you. Be not slothful. Follow on. Carry out this principle of foundation-faith which I have been illustrating.

_You have still much to gain_. You can never sit down like the conqueror in old day who wept because there were no more worlds to conquer. There remaineth yet much land to be possessed. There are many enemies to be overcome. There is much grace to be attained to. There is a closer intimacy and fellowship with the Lord Jesus to be won. For all this faith must be in action.

_You have still much to meet_. Duties—decisions—disappointments—cares—troubles. The pressure will be great both from within and from without. You have to learn better how to refer all things to a spiritual standard—how to commit everything to the guidance of a faithful and present God—how to endure as seeing Him who is invisible. For all this faith must be increased. It is the only secret of power.

If you aim at this, suffer me to remind you of that in our departed friend which tended to make his faith what it was.

No plant of righteousness can grow without being nourished in secret. No Christian soul can thrive unless it be fed from hidden sources. Our friend knew this, and therefore largely used those “nether springs” of the Word of God and prayer. He loved both. With both his hand was diligent, and by this diligence he was made rich.

But it is of his _habit of prayer_ that I would more particularly speak. The flame of his faith was fed by the oil of prayer. He had “the gift of the knees.”

Of him it might be truly said that he gave himself unto prayer. Late at night and early in the morning was he known to be pleading before the Throne. His voice was indeed that of Jacob, and so the faith and the walk were those of Enoch.

Oh, brethren—one great spring of sure and successful believing lies in sustained secret prayer. When the one wanes, the other withers. When the hands droop Amalek prevails. Many a lost jewel of assurance—of comfort—of usefulness, must be looked for in the place where you dropped it—your place of prayer. If, then, you would believe more, pray more. Gird yourselves afresh to His work. Open your mouth wide and God will fill it. Why remain poor with a boundless treasury to draw upon?

II. I pass now from what God would have us follow, to _what He would have us to consider_, viz.:—

I. _The conversation_ of those who are guides.

II. _The end of that conversation_.

If the faith of God’s people is to be marked, so also is the fruit of it. We have seen the principle. We have now to see the practice which followed from it.

I. Let me notice however that the word “conversation” does not mean merely “speech” or “talk.” It refers to the whole character, life, and walk: to the ‘ins’ and ‘outs;’ the turnings and windings of the life. So that in these words we are called upon to act as if we had to survey a country from a height—to trace a line of coast, and to mark it until it passes off, and is lost to sight in the distance.

Now I am bold to say that, through God’s abounding grace and power, the conversation we are this day called to consider is a fair prospect indeed.

Taking a rapid general view of his character, I would say, that _to him to live was Christ_. Christ was the principle, the power, the pattern, of his life.

Entering more into detail, I would say that the character has been sketched out for us by a master-hand. If you look at the epistle for the day (Romans xii., 6–16) you will see what I mean.

Look where you will, you can but say that God did all things well in him—the Holy Ghost filled him with His fruit.

You know full well what his purpose and manner of life was. As a representative—a magistrate—a landlord—a master—a neighbour—there was always the same Christian consistency—the same unworldliness of spirit. Well did he carry out the injunction of a dying father—“See, my son, that you render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.”

Of his more private life I will only say that he was taught of God to fill up every relationship, and in each one to show whose beauty and comeliness were put upon him.

If however, I am still to select those features of character which were most prominently marked—the jutting headlands (so to speak) of that fair line of coast, his life—I would name these two: 1, _Meekness of humility_; 2, _Tenderness __of unselfish love_. As to both of these, he had drunk deeply into the spirit of his Master.

1. Well was the mind of the meek and lowly Jesus reflected in the life of His meekly humble servant.

Humility was his clothing—no mere ornament on him—he was clothed with it, and oh how real and deep it was! To the eye of others there was much in which he might have gloried. Glory he did, but only as a Christian—only in the Lord—only in the Lord’s Cross.

Throughout life there was the most utter self-abasement. Never was he unwilling to be nothing that Christ might be all. Never was he unmindful of the Rock from which he had been hewn. Never could any complain of him that they could not see Christ over his head.

But most strikingly did his deep self-abasement come out at the close of life.

When asked if prayer should be offered for him, his words were: “Say nothing in my praise, all to the grace of God.” “People may say that I have been a good man. I have been but a poor sinner. I have left undone much that I ought to have done. O Lord! my goodness extendeth not to Thee. Even if I could say, ‘I have walked in my integrity,’ nothing but free redemption _has_ saved me, and _could_ save me.” “I’m a poor sinner, and nothing at all; Jesus Christ is my all in all.” “A poor sinner in myself, but pardoned and accepted in the Beloved Son of God. Amen. Amen.”

Truly brethren, here was the humility which, whilst it disowns and discrowns self, puts the crown fully on the head which is worthy to wear it. There is no affection. Nothing but the outpouring of the sincerest convictions of the soul, telling us on the one hand that no flesh shall glory in His presence—on the other that the soul shall make her boast in the Lord.

2. Nor was the _tender unselfish love_ less remarkable than the humility.

He realised in an uncommon degree the love shown in the coming and death of the Lord Jesus. The thought of it would often melt his soul and overpower him for the time.

Now, _such_ love, _so_ realised, will always produce the reality of love. No doubt there was much of tender feeling and deep affection in the natural character. But these were increased a thousand fold by Grace. You could not look at him without being struck by this. His heart looked out at his eyes, and that look was a whole sermon upon love.

Nor was it a mere sentiment. Love, to be love, must act, and you know the forms which that action took in his case.

He loved and cared much for the bodies of men. Many of you now present can testify to this. Many hereafter will rise up and call him blessed.

But he loved and cared for _souls_ more. Nothing could exceed the affectionate desirousness or the overflowing tenderness of his love for sinners. By every means in his power he would labour to bring Christ to them, or them to Christ. I cannot dwell upon all the means he used. His care to appoint godly ministers over the churches for which he was a trustee—his open-handed support of every society which put Christ in His right place—these are as well known to you as to me.

I would rather recall his personal efforts to make known the Gospel which was his own life.

Many of you, brethren, can bear me witness that by the space of many years he did not shun to declare by lip and life, by word and walk, the whole counsel of God.

He was emphatically one of that class who, to use the words of a poor man in London, “carry their religion to other people’s houses.” You know how he exhorted, and comforted, and taught; and that nothing made him an happy as the telling out the story of the Cross, or seeing the change which it could work upon the soul.

What a striking instance of the activity of his love was given in one of his dying testimonies:—“Whilst I have power to speak it must be of Salvation for ever and ever!”

And this life was as unselfish as it was active. As Christ pleaded not Himself, so did His servant strive to act. There was no living to self. As Jesus was the spring, so Jesus was the aim of the whole life. It was ever, “Lord, what wilt _thou_ have me to do?”—ever—“Lord, not my will but _thine_ be done!”

Brethren, _consider this conversation_—so humble, so loving, to unselfish. Look at it. Lay your own lives down by the side of it. Test them—not by what there was of the man, but by what there was of the Master. See what the testing says; and then rise up, sadder possibly by the comparison, yet wiser—humbled, but yet hopeful. For He who wrought here, works still, and loves to work, for all who seek it at His hand.

II. Yet one point remains. “_Consider the end of their conversation_.”

I know it has been said—“Don’t tell me how men died, tell me how they lived.” But where the death is but the proper fruiting-out of the life it is right that we should mark it. “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints,” and precious should they be in our sight.

The ‘end’ of our departed friend’s conversation was one to be considered. It was just what might have been expected. It _was_ perfect peace; it _is_ present rest; it _will be_ perfect glory.

The Lord was faithful and loving to His servant, and sustained him to the last. “Grace” and “Christ” were the two words oftenest on his lips—testifying at once to the source of his hope, and the security of his standing.

It was an end which left nothing to be desired, as the end of a saint of God.

Calm, settled, unbroken confidence; devout prayerfulness; holy self-abasement; loving consideration for and remembrance of others; loving messages to you, his poorer brethren, loving words for you the children in the school—of whom he said, “I love them all”—these things and more than these marked that end.

“He was happy,” he said, “happy, but only in Christ; not in myself, nor from myself, but only in _Jesus Christ_.”

And so he passed away. “Being (to use the descriptive words of a writer of old day) high in his communion with God, holy and unblameable in his walkings with God—it was still day with his soul. He lived and died in the joys and comforts of the Holy Ghost. And now that his sun is set, his glass out, his work, done, his race over, he rests in the everlasting arms of Divine love.”

And now, brethren, what remains for us? What for me but to speak home to your consciences? What for you but to act upon what may be spoken to the point?

I say then—Remember the charge here given, and consider the life of God’s servant and its end.

He has been God’s gift to His church—God’s gift to us in this neighbourhood, that through him our souls might be helped on to salvation—God’s name become more abundantly honoured.

Shall we not take this view of him? Consider this, _you that are Christless_—consciously without Christ—without a well-grounded hope—what effect should this life and death have on you?