with goods, and have need of nothing." Such was their estimate of their own works-an estimate manifestly formed from the outward appearance. They regarded themselves as practically complete in labour and service, as needing nothing more to become a fair sample of a working church. To their own view, they appeared as a tree bearing ample foliage, and yielding goodly fruit. They looked upon themselves as clothed with works of obedience, and as adorned with ornaments of grace. Had they been versed in the methods of this religious age, this age of progress, they might have complimented each other on their noble efforts, and have lauded each other for their great sacrifices, in the cause of truth. For they deemed themselves rich in all attainments, increased in all goodly deeds and things; so rich and prosperous, that they seemed to need nothing more. How far this is the temper and tone of this age of religious progress, let each Christian heart and conscience judge for itself, in the searching light of the Lord's presence.

4. But they were addressed as sadly mistaken Christians. Hear what the righteous Judge saith: "Thou knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." Sad and solemn words to greet the ears of an active church. A melancholy contrast with their own estimate of their doings. Their manifold works found no favour in the sight of him who looketh on the heart. They endured not the searching test of those eyes which were as a flame of fire: and be it remembered, beloved brethren, that the holy searching light of those eyes is the fire that shall try every man's work, in

the day of Christ, of what sort it is. As servants of Christ, whether in the ministry or not, whether labouring in public or private, our deeds and motives, our principles and actions, must all be tested by those eyes of pure and fiery flame. These mistaken saints had been long building, and they had builded on the right foundation. They had reared up a goodly structure; but, alas! the materials did not befit the character of the foundation. The gold and silver-the heavenly truth and grace-which alone became the sacred foundation, were not found. The precious stones, brilliant with the steady and undying light of faith and love, were lacking. In vain did the pure eyes of the all-seeing Master search for them. The wood, the hay, the stubble, were found instead. The energies and activities of nature, the goodliness of the flesh, abounded. The things of the Spirit; "the work of faith, the labour of love, the patience of hope, in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sight of God and our Father," abounded not. By Divine help, I hold up this mirror (into which I have looked for myself, and looked with no self-satisfied gaze)—I hold it up before you, and ask you to look into this glass of the word, and see, and judge before the Lord, how far the picture therein visible resembles yourselves.

5. We proceed to ask, Why was it so? Wherein was the failure? There was a fearful mistake somewhere: what was it? Was their faith at fault? Were their notions of truth radically wrong? We think not. There is no complaint of the unsoundness of their creed. They were probably as right in doctrine as they were active in practice. Nor were

they charged with immoral procedure. There was about them far more of the self-righteous Pharisee than of the despised publican. Where, then, was the failure? What did they lack? The answer is seen in these words of Jesus. They lacked love to him personally. He was not the cherished object of their heart's affection. He was not the first, the midst, and the last, of their much labour. The personal love to Christ that animated a John, and that bound a Mary to his feet, was feebly felt. They had made works their Christ. They had taken refuge from the presence of Jesus in the supposed service of Jesus. They had left their first love, and had, therefore, ceased to do their first works. He who walked amongst the branches of that fair outspreading tree discerned not the true sap and life of love therein. The holy fire of love having been chilled, they were not hot. Sparks of their own kindling there were, but these could not pass in Jesus' estimation for the fire of true love and zeal. Yet they were unwilling to think themselves cold. The false glow of their activity they deemed to be true godly warmth. With enough of life to keep them from death, with enough of death to chill the vigour of life, they were neither cold nor hot. To any eye but that of the all-seeing One, and in any light save that of the sanctuary, there were devotedness, progress, fruit: to the eyes of him with whom we have to do, there was the form of godliness without the power.

"Because

6. This was most distasteful to Jesus. thou art lukewarm, I will spue thee out of my mouth." Not thee as a saint of God, or as a member

of my body, but thy works as a servant of thy Master; thy fruit as a branch of the Vine. It is not a question of the everlasting relation of the saint to his Saviour and Head, but of the approval or disapproval of his conduct as a servant. It is not a matter of salvation, but of discipleship. The busy activity of this church had invited the beloved One into his garden, to eat his pleasant fruits. He had come at their bidding to be refreshed by their graces and loves. He sought to gather his myrrh with his spices, to eat his honey with his honeycomb, to drink his wine with his milk. But, alas! the taste was of the wild produce of nature, and not of the precious fruit of grace-of the desert without, and not of the garden enclosed. To him the spices were as gail, the honey as bitterness, the wine as vinegar. The true fragrance of the spices, the sweetness of the honey, the pureness of the wine and the milk-the love of his spouse to himself-he found not; and he cast them from him as rottenness and corruption.

Christian brethren; before proceeding to the second part of our subject, shall we endeavour to apply the first? We are not here to speak of the Laodicean state of the church at large, as that would afford us no profit. Let us rather briefly recur to each remark, and aim at a personal application of it to ourselves, Remember that the words are addressed to Christians; to active Christians; to Christians unconscious of their great shortcoming, and able to congratulate themselves on their progress and attainments; to Christians who seemed able to get on without intimate, loving, constant communion with Jesus. Remembering all this, let us each, in the depth of his

heart, and in the secret silence of his soul, ask our holy Lord one brief, solemn, earnest question, and let us pause for a reply: Master, is it I? kind, gracious, patient Master, Is it I? Is it I, who preach thy gospel and teach thy truth to thy people? Ye elders, who undertake to watch over the flock, say ye, each one, Master, Is it I? Ye who teach the young; ye who go forth into the streets, or from house to house, to call in the outcasts; ye who lead the prayers of the people, say, Master, Is it I? Let every Christian heart sincerely and humbly ask, Master, Is it I?

II. Let us proceed to mark the conduct of Jesus. Does he leave his poor self-satisfied ones to reap the fruit of their folly? No, it is not for this that he has walked amongst them so patiently, and so long. His watchful presence in the churches, as the great High Priest, is not to destroy, but to heal and to bless. He desires not to leave nor to forsake his people, notwithstanding their neglect, and their repeated provocations. He is the very Son of that loving Father, whose voice we hear in the ancient prophet, speaking to his wayward and stricken child: "Is Ephraim my dear son? is he a pleasant child? for since I spake against him, I do earnestly remember him still; therefore my bowels are troubled for him; I will surely have mercy on him, saith the Lord." And as the grace of that blessed Father ever abounded beyond his people's sins, so doth the grace of the Son; for in this, as in all other things, he could say, I and my Father are one. We remark,

1. That Christ stands without. "Behold, I stand at the door." O Christian, O my soul, it is Jesus,