SELECTED BY CHANCELLOR J. H. VINCENT, D.D.

[January 4.]

Think of God as your constant benefactor—that he made you, that he sustains you in every moment of your existence—that, to express yourself with the simple energy of inspiration, in him you live, and move, and have your being—that in all the joys which are scattered over the pilgrimage of life, we see nothing but the kindness of God always exerting itself in our favor, and meeting us in every direction—that though we seldom look beyond the creatures which surround us, it is God who reigns in these creatures and makes them subservient to his most wise, his most gracious, his most benevolent purposes; that though in the hey-day of youth we are carried along the tide of gayety without care and without reflection, it is God who gives to the spirit of man all its cheerfulness; that though we stop short in our gratitude at the benefactor who relieved and at the friend who supported us, it is God who reigns over the constitution of the mind, and could by a single word of his power make every companion abandon us, and every friend look upon us with an altered countenance; that though I call the house in which I live my own, and find in the endearments of my family my repose and my happiness, it is God who gave me my home, who spreads security around it, and fills it with all its charities; that though my path in society be dignified by the homage and civility of my acquaintances, it is God who reigns in the human breast and administers all the delight of social intercourse; that though my eye expatiates in rapture on the landscape around us, it is the living God who beautifies the scene, and gives it all its magnificence and all its glory; in short, that everything we enjoy is a gift; that in whatever quarter happiness is met with, a burden of obligation and dependence lies upon us; that we have nothing which we did not receive—that our all is suspended on God, and that to him we owe all the praise, all the gratitude, all the obedience. Now will any man who is acquainted with the movements of his own breast, say that this praise and this obedience are actually given? Are not the pleasures of life often tasted without acknowledgment? Is not the conduct of life often proceeded in without any reference to the will and authority of him who is the author of it? Is not the mind in a state of habitual estrangement from God, his existence absent from our reflections, and his superintendency as a judge and as a lawgiver absent from our principles? Go to whatever quarter you please for happiness, there is no escaping the conclusion that God is the giver of it, in his pervading energy which gives effect and operation to all things. You can not fly out of his presence, nor repair beyond the limits of his sovereignty.—From Dr. Chalmers.

[January 11.]

Of all the impossibles which ever were attempted, there is none so wild and so irrational as to attempt an independence upon God. It is in virtue of him that you are held together. He measures out to you every moment of your existence. He gives you not merely the air you breathe, but he gives you the faculty of breathing. He provides for you not merely the external goods which are scattered around you in such bounteous profusion, but it is he who furnishes you with the capacity of enjoying them. You talk of the pleasures of the world, and fly to them as your refuge and your consolation against the displeasure of an offended Deity, but think that it is only by a continuance of his unmerited favor that you have these pleasures to fly to. He can take them away from you; or, what perhaps is a still more striking demonstration of his sovereignty, he can make them no longer pleasures to you. He reigns within as well as without you. To him you owe not merely what is external, but to him you owe the taste and the faculty which enjoys it. He can pervert these faculties. He can change your pleasures into disgust. He can derange the constitution of the inner man, and make you loathe as tasteless and unsatisfying what you at present indulge in with delight or look forward to with rapture. He is all in all. The whole of our being hangs upon him, and there is no getting away from his universal, from his ceaseless, from his unexcepted agency. Now, do the Almighty the same justice that you would do to an earthly benefactor; measure the extent of his claims upon you by the extent of his benefits; think of the authority over you which, as your Creator and as your constant preserver, he has a right to exercise; think of your perpetual dependence, and that all around you and within you, for every moment and particle of your existence is upheld by God; and tell me, if either in the thoughts of your hearts or in the actions of your life you come up to the demand which his justice and his authority have a title to prefer against you?—From Dr. Chalmers.

[January 18.]

What then, art thou, O, my God; what, I ask, but the Lord God? For who is Lord but the Lord? or who is God save our God? Most high, most excellent, most potent, most omnipotent, most piteous and most just; most hidden and most near; most beauteous and most strong; stable, yet contained of none; unchangeable, yet changing all things; never new, never old, making all things new, yet bringing old age upon the proud, and they know it not; always working, yet ever at rest; gathering, yet needing nothing; sustaining, pervading, and protecting; creating, nourishing, and developing; seeking, and yet possessing all things. Thou lovest, and burnest not; art jealous, yet free from care; repentest, and hast no sorrow; art angry, yet serene; changest thy ways, leaving unchanged thy plans; recoverest what thou findest, having yet never lost; art never in want, while thou rejoicest in gain; never covetous, though requiring usury (Matt. xxv:27).… Thou payest debts, while owing nothing; and when thou forgivest debts, losest nothing. Yet, O my God, my life, my holy joy, what is this that I have said? And what saith any man when he speaks of thee? Yet woe to them that keep silence, seeing that even those who say most are as dumb!

Oh! how shall I find rest in thee? Who will send thee into my heart to inebriate it, so that I may forget my woes, and embrace thee, my only good? What art thou to me? Have compassion on me, that I may speak. What am I to thee, that thou demandest my love, and unless I give it thee art angry and threatenest me with great sorrows? Is it, then, a light sorrow not to love thee? Alas! alas! tell me of thy compassion, O Lord my God, what thou art to me: “Say unto my soul, I am thy salvation.” So speak that I may hear. Behold Lord, the ears of my heart are before thee; open thou them, and “say unto my soul, I am thy salvation.” When I hear, may I run and lay hold on thee. Hide not thy face from me. Let me die, lest I die, if only I may see thy face.

Cramped is the dwelling of my soul; do thou expand it, that thou mayest enter in. It is in ruins, restore thou it. There is that about it which must offend thine eyes; I confess and know it, but who will cleanse it? or to whom shall I cry but to thee? Cleanse me from my secret sins, O Lord, and keep thy servant from those of other men. I believe, and therefore do I speak; Lord, thou knowest. Have I not confessed my transgressions unto thee, O my God; and thou hast put away the iniquity of my heart. I do not contend in judgment with thee, who art the truth; and I would not deceive myself, lest my iniquity lie against itself. I do not, therefore, contend in judgment with thee, for “if thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?”

O Lord God, grant thy peace unto us, for thou hast supplied us with all things; the peace of rest, the peace of the Sabbath, which hath no evening. For all this most beautiful order of things, “very good” (all their courses being finished), is to pass away, for in them there was morning and evening.

But the seventh day is without any evening, nor hath it any setting, because thou hast sanctified it to an everlasting continuance; that which thou didst after thy words, which were very good, resting on the seventh day, although in unbroken rest thou madest them, that the voice of thy Book may speak beforehand unto us, that we also after our works (therefore very good, because thou hast given them unto us) may repose in thee, also in the Sabbath of eternal life.—From St. Augustine.[1]

[January 25.]

Now tell me, Christians, have you hitherto understood it, and do you still understand it, in this manner? Let each candidly examine himself in the presence of God. Where is the ambitious man, who, looking on his ambition as the wound of his soul, desires in good earnest to be thoroughly cured? Where is the voluptuous man, who, truly afflicted at his unhappy situation, wishes efficaciously, and as his sovereign good, to be freed from his passion? Where is the avaricious man, who, ashamed of his injustice, sincerely and from his heart detests his iniquity? Where is the woman, who, listening to religion, hath a horror of vanity, and thinks of extirpating her self-love? From what passion, from what vicious and ruling inclination hath this divine Savior as yet delivered you? By what, then, do you know him to be a Savior? And if he be a Savior, by what mark do you pretend to know that he is yours? What hath he by your own means performed in your regard? Now, as I perceive that you are so ill disposed, should I not prevaricate, did I declare to you his coming as a cause of joy? And to speak as a faithful minister of the Gospel, ought I not to tell you, what in fact I tell you? Undeceive yourselves, and bewail your woeful situation, for, while enamored with the world, you obstinately persist in such criminal dispositions, though the Savior be born, no more advantage accrues to you from his sacred birth, than if he were not born.…

… Hath this spirit of truth been hitherto a spirit of truth for us?… Whatever profession we may make of being, as Christians, the disciples of the spirit of truth, are we really persuaded of the truths of Christianity? Hath he made us relish them? Hath he given us a sincere and efficacious disposition to put them in practice? We adore these divine truths in speculation; but do we conform our conduct to them? We speak of them perhaps with eloquence and enthusiasm; but are our morals correspondent with our words? We give lessons to others upon that head; but are we ourselves fully convinced of them? Do we believe with a steadfast and lively faith that, to be Christians, it is our duty not only to carry our cross, but to place our glory in it? That, to follow Jesus Christ, we must internally renounce not only all things, but even ourselves? That, to belong to him, not only must we not indulge the flesh, but must crucify it? That, to find grace before God, we must not only forget injuries received, but return good for evil? Do we firmly, and without hesitation, believe all these points of the Evangelic doctrine? And can we bear witness to ourselves that we believe them as fully and constantly in heart as we openly confess them in words? The Apostles, the moment they received the Holy Ghost, were ready to lay down their lives for the truth; are we ready, I do not say to lay down our lives but to destroy our irregular passions? According to this rule, is there room to believe that the spirit of truth hath undeceived us with respect to a thousand errors which occasion all the misdeeds in the world? That he hath disabused us of I know not how many maxims which pervert us?… If he hath done nothing of all this, what proof have we that we have received him? And if we have not received him, whom have we to blame for it but ourselves?… Preserve us from so great and fatal an irregularity, O Divine Spirit! and, to that intent, make us know the things thou didst teach the Apostles. Grant that at last we may become truly thy disciples; and be to us not only a Spirit of Truth, but a Spirit of Holiness.—From Bourdaloue.[2]