that "exeeeds,"-the "righteousness" that is out of sight, -the "righteousness" that lies very deep.

And fifthly, no wonder that such an inner "righteousness," when it is wrought out, goes very deep, and soars very high. It does not calculate how little it may do, but how much it can do for God; it does not stop at one mile, but it is glad to go twain. It is not enough to it to go to heaven itself, but it would have all other men. It is not enough, though all men were good and happy, if God is not glorified. The moral code of this man may be very strict, but his course will be a very smooth one. He will be the same everywhere; he takes no advantage; he keeps the circles of life all in their due proportion,-the less is not sacrificed to the greater, nor large principles lost in extravagant detail. He gives "tithes of mint, and anise, and cummin," and yet he "omits not the weightier matters of the law," for to him the code of life is not the habits of men, but the unchangeable word of God. Life is ministry; sympathy is power; the aim is alway rising, and yet still the more he attains, the further off perfection seems;-and far, far away, a thing always receding from him every day, further and further off, he sees the "righteousness that "exceeds."

For after all, and after it is all done, what is it? "Righteousness?" In the eyes of a holy God, is it “righteousness?" "Righteousness?"—what a sinner's heart has thought, and a sinner's hand has touched? "Righteousness?" Filthy rags, filthy rags;-all cries out for punishment, all wants washing. No, brethren, "the exceeding righteousness" is not here. All I have said, and much more than I have said, you must do if you would go to heaven; but to make your title to that world of glory, to

commend you in the sight of a pure God, and to make you stand at last righteous before your Maker, there is no "righteousness" I know but one. Put it on,-put it on over all,-over your sanctification,-that spotless robe of the obedience of the Perfect One. I know no other, for that " exceeds," "exceeds" the vilest sinner's wants,"exceeds" the utmost thought and the loftiest aspiration of the most heaven-taught saint,-"exceeds" an angel's purity, the necessity of all,—the sufficiency of all; and I do not doubt for a moment, that in a sense in which few® could have understood Him, it lay couched in Christ's words when He said, "Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven."

XXVI.

Stillness of Soul.

"Be still, and know that I am God."-PSALM xlvi. 10.

THE

HE two clauses which compose this sentence, are so interwoven that each may be the cause, and each may be the effect of the other. The way to "know" God is to "be still;" and the way to "be still" is to "know" God. It is one of those beautiful reciprocities which we often find between a duty and a privilege. The way to do the duty is to accept the privilege; and the way to enjoy the privilege is to do the duty.

Let us take it first, that "stillness" is the condition of our "knowing" God.

And here it is important at once to make a distinction. It does not say, "Be still, and know God," for no cause will produce that effect under this dispensation. Το "know God" is beyond the power of any creature. "I go forward, but He is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive Him; on the left hand, where He doth work, but I cannot behold Him: He hideth Himself on the right hand, that I cannot see Him." "For canst thou, by searching, find out God? canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection? It is as high as heaven; what canst thou do? deeper than hell; what canst thou know? The

measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." Therefore you are never told to "be still," and "know" God. But the very opposite is implied; for to "know" that He is "God," is almost in itself a confession that "God" is not to be "known." "Be still, and know that I am"-not a man,-not to be estimated by human calculation, not to be measured by material measurement, but the eternal, the infinite, the incomprehensible"God."

Now let me suppose a man anxious, as far as it is permitted to a man, to “acquaint himself with God" that he may "be at peace;" i.e., to be sure of His existence, to have worthy views of His character and operations, and to confide in His love. How shall that man proceed? The answer is to our hand,—“Be still.” It is almost all comprised in that little compass. "Be still," and you will "know that I am God."

Let

First, there must be a silent power of reception. me define what I mean. There are times when it is our duty to be active and demonstrative. There are other times when equally it is our duty to be only passive. There is a danger of confounding those duties. In prayer, still more in reading the, Bible,-most of all in meditation, we are simply to receive,—sit “still,” and take impressions. Let God do His own work, and mould you. All you have to do is to let in the rays of light as they fall upon you; and they will place God's image, of themselves, upon your soul.

There is a great tendency to think that the benefit of our communion with God depends upon the energy of the thought, or the strength of the affection, which we put in it. Now I do not say that these things are not needed, but I

say that it is far more important quietly to take in. It is in grace as in the processes of nature,-they will do their own proper work if you do not hinder them. God is sure to speak, if the hush of your soul be deep enough. Heaven and truth are sure to reflect themselves, if the mirror of your mind be calm enough.

And all this connects itself with another element of "stillness,"-veneration. We are greatly at fault in this

matter. Familiarity,—form,-frequency,—haste,—and the habit of the age,-intellect, and materialism,-have all done their work to reduce and well-nigh to destroy the organ of veneration. We walk rough-shod,—and we intrude rashly, and we think superficially, and we talk flippantly, in the holiest things. We have deteriorated,and I fear we are deteriorating, from day to day, in this matter. If our fathers had less knowledge, they had certainly greater reverence. Have we gained by the exchange? God will not show Himself till the "shoes" are "off the feet," i.e., till the thoughts are lowered, and the spirit subdued. There is a great deal that must be silent before "still small voices" will speak. It is never in "the winds" of theory, nor in "the earthquake" of controversy, nor in "the fires" of an impetuous zeal; but it is in the desert of the soul; when it feels the presence of God, it will be utterly low. It is when we go, in a prostration of everything, before the majesty of the invisible,—it is in the awe of the unknown,-it is when we are likest those who always behold His face. And how do they behold it? They have each "six wings;""with twain they cover their feet, with twain they cover their face, and with twain they fly."

Further, it is quite essential that any one who wishes to