CRITICAL AND EXEGETICAL NOTES
James 2:14. Say.—Or, “make profession.” The man may really have the faith, but it cannot be an effective faith if it finds no expression in actions. “Faith, without acts of faith, is but a dream,” Works.—Simply “actions.” Not meritorious works. Can faith.—Not faith generally, but his particular faith—the faith which proves itself to be mere sentiment.
James 2:16. Be ye warmed and filled.—The verb is either imperative, “Get yourself warmed and filled,” or indicative, “Ye are warming and filling yourselves.” Plumptre prefers the indicative form. “What greater mockery than to be taunted with texts and godly precepts, the usual outcome of a spurious and cheap benevolence!”
James 2:18.—This is the language not of an objector, but of one whose views James approves. Without.—That is, “apart from,” “distinct from.” The suggestion is that the two things cannot either wisely, or rightly, be separated.
James 2:19. Tremble.—Shudder.
James 2:20. Vain man.—Empty-headed; a term of contempt: see Matthew 5:22.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— James 2:14-20
Sentimentality is not Religion.—In every age the difficulty has had to be dealt with, of confusing profession with piety, and sentiment with religion, and talk with service. The difficulty especially associates with Christianity, which is essentially a spiritual religion; has no sphere if it does not get a soul-sphere; but when it has gained the soul-sphere, persists in gaining the body-sphere also. In the early Church there were the deceived and the self-deceived—those who took up with religion from interested motives, and those who had very unworthy notions of what religion is and requires. Some were carried into the Christian profession on passing waves of emotion, and when the excitement died down they were surprised to find in what responsibilities they were involved. Some were intellectually convinced of Christ’s claims, but did not come into the moral influence of personal relations of love and trust. Intellectual belief is not bound to bear fruit of godly living; personal faith is. The trust which binds to Christ binds to the service of Christ. The faith which saves, and the works which serve, are linked indissolubly together. These are the truths St. James presents in this paragraph, in his practical, pointed, and illustrative style. Two words will give the contrast which St. James so forcibly presents. Saying, showing. Saying that we have faith. Showing that we have faith. Both are right. Profession may be the duty of the hour as truly as charity. But there is this marked difference between the two. Showing can stand alone, but saying cannot. A man who shows his faith by his works need not make profession, for the works will make all the profession that is needed. But the man who shows his faith only by his profession will find the profession is altogether a worthless thing to himself and to others, unless it is followed up by answering works of charity and service. Of the Pharisee class our Lord said, “They say and do not”; and in those words may be found the keenest and most severe reproach.
I. Saying that we have faith, or resting in profession and sentiment.—This is a special peril at times, under particular sectarian conditions, and to peculiar natural dispositions. Such times are times of revival; such conditions are demands of special beliefs; such dispositions are prevailingly emotional. There are insincere and time-serving forms of making religious profession; but we need only take sincere forms with which men are self-deluded. St. James wants us clearly to see that merely saying we have faith cannot save. It has no necessary saving influence in the life; it has no moral power. This has been embodied in the familiar saying, “Hell is paved with good intentions”; which were ineffective things, and could not save the man from going to hell. Therefore it is constantly pressed on attention that the faith which saves is not intellectual belief, of which we can make a profession, but heart-trust, which brings us into personal relations with Christ, and compels service to Him in the service of his. As professors we are always in danger of living a sentimental rather than a practical Christian life. The danger seems expressed in our common modes of speech. We say we make a profession of religion. Would it not be better, less exposed to misunderstanding and mistake, if we were to say we have begun, and are trying to live, a Christian life? We may easily become satisfied with making a profession; we can never be satisfied if our effort is to live a godly, righteous, and sober life. The danger of sentimentality starts with us in the very beginning of our religious history. The great force of influence brought to bear on us then tends to nourish feeling. Very little effort is made to urge on us the doing of duty, and the acceptance of a life of charities and sacrifices. And a serious estimate of many advanced Christian lives brings to light the mastery of this evil. To many the searching Spirit of Christ may have to say, “Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead.” The fact is that people prefer that which cultivates the sentimental, increases mere knowledge, or pleases with the delicacies of high feeling; they are often offended when, with plainness and point, the claims of the Spirit of Christ are shown bearing upon temper, and home, and indulgences, and business, and charity. But profession of faith, if it stand alone, if that is all a man has, does not save, and cannot. Our Lord stamped the helplessness of mere saying in His severe reproach, “Many shall say unto Me in that day, Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy by Thy name? and by Thy name cast out devils? and by Thy name do many mighty works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from Me, ye that work iniquity” (Matthew 7:22).
II. Showing that we have faith.—Or expressing faith in service. St. James gives a definite case in illustration. A distressed Christian brother, needing actual food and clothing, comes to the man who says he has faith, and expects his saying so to suffice. The man lives in the region of excellent sentiment and pious talk. And he gives plenty of these things to his distressed brother; but no clothes and no food. Now what good could that do either to the professor or to the distressed brother? It did not nourish the professor’s faith only to talk; and it did not help the poor man in his need to listen to talk. It would have shown the man’s faith—and showing is speaking loudly and effectively—if he had given some clothes and some food. Ministry, charity, the life of service—this is the true profession, the proper showing forth of godliness. Think of Dorcas, and the crowd that gathered about her house, mourning for her, and showing the garments she had made for them. That crowd wept for her because of what she had done. Think of those holy women who ministered of their substance to Christ, and were honoured by Him for what they had done. Nay, think above all of Christ Himself, over whose whole life shines the glory of something done to relieve, and comfort, and raise, and save His fellow-men. “He went about doing good,” showing how much more “blessed it is to give than to receive”; and “leaving us an example, that we should follow His steps”—this example, not talking about his faith, and satisfying Himself with talk, but showing His faith by works of loving charity and devoted service. There may be:
(1) faith without works;
(2) works without faith;
(3) faith seen in works; and
(4) works culturing faith. Isolated faith is a helpless (dead) thing. There are three possible stages of faith:
(1) faith spoken with the lips;
(2) faith seen in the life;
(3) faith felt in the deeds which carry the persuasion of it to others.
SUGGESTIVE NOTES AND SERMON SKETCHES
James 2:14. Faith as Trust, and Works as Charity.—According to St. James, faith was moral conviction, trust, and truth, and yet such a theoretical belief only that it might be held by devils. Works are not those of the law, but an active life of practical morality and well-doing. Justification is used in a proper or moral sense, but not the higher, or “forensic,” as we now call it.—After De Wette and Alford.
Religion is Devotion and Duty.—The Church of every age is warned against the delusive notion that it is enough for men to have religious emotions, to talk religious language, to have religious knowledge, and to profess religious belief, without the habitual practice of religious duties, and the daily devotion of a religious life.—Ellicott’s Commentary.
St. James no Antagonist of St. Paul.—Lightfoot says, “It becomes a question whether St. James’s protest against relying on faith alone has any reference, direct or indirect, to St. Paul’s language and teaching; whether, in fact, it is not aimed against an entirely different type of religious feeling, against the Pharisaic spirit which rested satisfied with a barren orthodoxy, fruitless in works of charity.”
True Faith.—True faith rests not in great and good desires, but acts and executes accordingly. It will be long enough ere the gale of good wishes carry us to heaven.—Bishop Hall.
James 2:15-16. Feeling without Action.—We pity the wretchedness and shun the wretched; we utter sentiments just, honourable, refined, lofty; but somehow, when a truth presents itself in the shape of a duty, we are unable to perform it. And so such characters become by degrees like the artificial pleasure-grounds of bad taste, in which the waterfall does not fall, and the grotto offers only the refreshment of an imaginary shade, and the green hill does not strike the skies, and the tree does not grow. Their lives are a sugared crust of sweetness, trembling over black depths of hollowness; more truly still, “whited sepulchres,” fair without to look upon, “within full of all uncleanness.”—F. W. Robertson.
The Lesson of Commonplace Charity.—St. James’s illustration is decidedly commonplace, but it has its power, suggestiveness, and pointed application in that very fact. Men could have found excuses, and shifted off from themselves the application of St. James’s truth, if he had found some unusual or peculiar case. The skill of a Christian teacher is often shown in the fresh adaptations of commonplace truths or illustrations. The commonplace appeals to the universal conscience. How very usual is the case of a fellow-creature needing clothes and food. How often is the good word that costs nothing, and does nothing, made to stand in place of the good deed which costs something, and does much. 1. The good word may be good, but not timely.
2. The good word is but mockery when it stands by itself. Many a poor beggar who wants a crust has been mocked with a sermon.
3. The good word is acceptable and useful when it goes along with, or follows after, the kindly deed. The lesson of commonplace charity is, that it is always better to help the distressed with our hands than with our lips. The lips may do good service when they back up what the hands do. Do not say to the cold and naked, “Be ye warmed”: warm them, and save your talking to them until they are warmed. All our good works should be instinct with the same principle. Do first, and let good speech be the fair companion of good deeds.
James 2:17. Faith and Works.—Suppose I say, “A tree cannot be struck without thunder”; that is true, for there is never destructive lightning without thunder. But again, if I say, “The tree was struck by lightning without thunder,” that is true too, if I mean that the lightning alone struck it without the thunder striking it. Yet read the two assertions together, and they seem contradictory. So, in the same way, St. Paul says, “Faith justifies without works”—that is, faith alone is that which justifies us, not works. But St. James says, “Not a faith which is without works.” There will be works with faith, as there is thunder with lightning; but just as it is not the thunder but the lightning, the lightning without the thunder, that strikes the tree, so it is not the works which justify. Put it in one sentence—Faith alone justifies, but not the faith which is alone. Lightning alone strikes, but not the lightning which is alone without thunder; for that is only summer lightning, and harmless.—F. W. Robertson.
Faith as a Cipher.—Faith is like a cipher in arithmetic, which, no matter how often it is repeated, represents nothing “being alone,” but when added to the units it gives them value. So faith and works.—Bayot.
Faith and its Fruits.—Faith must be known by its fruits. When a mighty cliff is to be shattered by gunpowder, a small chamber is prepared in the interior, and filled with the powder, then a wire connected with an electric battery is carried in. At the appointed signal the spectators watch the cliff, and if they see no movement they know the messenger that flashed along the wire has not been received. If it had been, the cliff would have heaved, and fallen into the sea.
The Word “Dead” as applied to “Things.”—It has been shown by Professor Drummond that things are properly said to be dead when they fail to “respond to their environment.” Then we have to find what is the particular environment of faith: then we can test faith, and see if it is living, and if it is living by an all-round and complete response to its environment.
James 2:17-18. Faith a Sentiment and Faith a Power.—St. James has really but one topic. It may be expressed in this way—Godliness is practical. It is the spirit that tones, and gives good character to, all human life and relations. This is true of all godliness; it is pre-eminently true of the Christian godliness. The old Jew repeated his profession of faith—“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord”—day by day, until it became a meaningless routine, and he could keep on saying it, and even pride himself in keeping on, while well-nigh everything in his life and conduct and relations was inconsistent with the due fear of God, and with a fitting sense of the brotherhood of man; subversive of the first principles of religion and justice and charity. The condition was well represented by the Pharisees of our Lord’s day, who came under His severest denunciations, because they prided themselves upon their faith, but kept it clear of all influence upon their works. They said, but did not: were always ready to show their faith, to talk about it, to boast about it; but they dared not, and did not wish to, show their works; and they needed to have themselves shown up to themselves by the searching and revealing words of Christ. Judaism did not contemplate any such divorce of faith and works. Indeed, the Mosaic system provided against any such possibility by its elaborate system of works—duties, ceremonies, relations, obligations—in and through which the faith of the Jew might find expression. Jewish ritual was valuable with faith, but worthless and mischievous without it. The faith that did nothing was nothing. St. James writes to Jews who had come to accept Jesus as Messiah and Saviour—to Jews whose new formula of faith was, “I believe in one God, and in Jesus Christ whom He hath sent”: and a very good creed to believe that was. But the peril attached to it was that which attached to the old Jewish creed, and indeed to all creeds. It was of no value by itself, and yet men were always tempted to satisfy themselves with it alone. A man’s faith is a living thing, and all living things want to do something; they want to work; and they are known by their works. We do not call a thing alive that does nothing; and faith, if it have not works, is dead in itself. St. James does but announce a universal fact and principle, one that is as true to-day as yesterday. A faith that could do nothing—poor, weak, worthless thing—never saved anybody yet. Doing nothing, it could not do that. A faith that can do nothing neither God nor man can take any notice of. It is a bubble, and bursts with a touch. St. Paul scorns the vain thing as much as St. James; and our Divine Lord and Master scorns it even more than they. He sees men repeating their “Shema” (their “apostles’ creed”) day by day, and He says, “By their fruits ye shall know them.” The matter vitally concerns us, and it may be shown that—
1. These are two distinct things—faith and works.
2. They can be separated, so that man may have one and not the other.
3. When separated, faith becomes a sentiment, and works become a snare.
4. When united, faith becomes a power of life in works, and works become a nourishment of the power in faith.
I. These are two distinct things—faith and works.—Faith is a mood of the mind. Works are activities of the body. Works are things done; faith is the soul that should be in the doing. Faith puts the man into the sphere of the unseen. Works keep the man in the sphere of the seen. Faith is sometimes spoken of as the intellectual apprehension of certain propositions; then we call it belief, but it may not mean our apprehension, it may only mean our acceptance of something on the basis of an authority that we recognise, and to which we submit. No “works” are necessary to “belief”; and no moral redemption was ever wrought by the mere belief of anything. “Saving faith” is more than “belief.” Faith is personal trust in a person, who is felt to be worthy of the trust. It is heart-reliance. To that trust the belief that is an intellectual apprehension may, and does, powerfully help; but it is the trust that saves, not the belief. It has been pointed out, by Godet and others, that the faith of St. James is really not the same thing as the justifying faith of St. Paul. And if this is clearly apprehended, all thought of contradiction between the teachings of St. James and St. Paul is made impossible. Godet says: “The faith of which St. James affirms that it does not justify is quite of a different kind from that of which St. Paul affirms that it suffices for justification. They differ with respect to their object and their nature. When St. Paul teaches justification by faith, he means faith in the redemption accomplished by Jesus Christ; or at least—when he is dealing with Old Testament personages—faith in the gracious promises of Jehovah, of which this redemption was the fulfilment” (we should have preferred to say, faith in Jesus Christ Himself, in whom is the redemptive power); “whereas the faith which St. James declares to be insufficient for salvation means simply—he says so himself, chap. James 2:19—that belief in the one only God which distinguished the Jews from the heathen.” The fact is, that St. James had in mind the theory of salvation by faith in the unity of God which Pharisaic Jews so tenaciously held. Justin Martyr says to Tryphon, the Jew, “As for you Jews, you affirm that even when you are sinners, yet if you know God, He will not impute to you your sins.” And in a Judaistic document of the second century it is said, “A monotheistic soul has this privilege above that of an idolater—that even when it has lived in sin it cannot perish.” It is clear that St. James means by faith “belief”; and belief in one particular thing—belief with which men satisfied themselves, to the neglect of all other sacred obligations. Is that sort of faith of any more service now than it was then? St. James is right. Such “faith, if it have not works, is dead in itself.” “Works” are distinct from “faith”; but here again St. James and St. Paul mean two different things by the term. St. Paul writes concerning works that precede faith, and represent a man’s own endeavour to secure a ground on which to claim salvation. “Works,” in that sense, are clearly antagonistic to faith; and the apostle properly urges that all such works must be put away before a saving faith can even become a possibility. But St. James has not “works” in any such sense before his mind at all. He was thinking only of the works which should come after faith—should be the sign of faith, the proof of faith, and the proper culture of faith. St. James is precisely in the same range as St. Paul when the apostle urges that “they which have believed God should be careful to maintain good works.” Works instead of faith will save no man. Works expressing faith, and showing it to be real, living, will save any man, because the faith in the works is the required Divine condition of salvation on man’s side.
II. These two things—faith and works—can be separated, so that a man may have the one and not the other.—We all know and esteem highly the men and women who abound in good works, fill their lives with active charities, and serve their generation with self-sacrificing services and generosities, and yet make no profession or pretence of religion. And do we not also know many who have only faith, a helpless, workless faith—who can fight for their particular setting or little piece of truth, and feel sure of the special favour of God because their belief is right, but never “lift up hands that hang down, never strengthen feeble knees,” never comfort sorrowing hearts, but can only press their beliefs, as the absolute grounds of salvation, even upon the dying? A man who has nothing but his faith, and prides himself in that, separates himself from humanity, and from Jesus Christ, the brother of humanity, and may be classed among the unloveliest of the unlovely, going about judging his fellows by his own poor mental standard. But the fact that the two things, which are knit and welded together in the purpose of God, can be separated by the wilfulness and the false teachings of men, so that one of us may have the faith, and another of us may have the works, is full of the most serious import to us all. Because neither of these, by itself, can save us. Faith cannot save, if alone. Works cannot save, if alone. That sort of faith saves which can be called a works-faith, a faith that is living enough, real enough, to do something, something good and something kind. How is it with us? Have we faith? Is it delightfully orthodox, so that we are quite proud of it? We do well. “The devils also believe,” and do something more than believe—they “tremble.” St. James rises into scornfulness. “If a man say he hath faith, but have not works, can that faith save him? If a brother or sister be naked, and in lack of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Go in peace, be ye warmed and filled; and yet he give them not the things needful to the body; what doth it profit?” Have we only works? I do not mean any manufacturing of self-righteousness by strict obedience to law—that is a Pauline idea, and does not come to St. James’s mind here. Are we full of the “milk of human kindness”; ever ready to serve; inventive in charities; a father to the poor; the helper of the widows; a Dorcas in generous thoughtfulness? If it all be without faith, if it have no inspiration in our love to the Lord Jesus, which love carries to Him our trust, what doth it profit? Can works save? He is deluded who thinks so. They will be appraised at their worth. They are, and they will be, rewarded according to the Divine estimate of their merit; but they never saved a man from his sins yet. They bear no relation to saving a man from his sins. That comes through a Divine Saviour; and that comes to a man by the faith which links him to the Saviour, and brings to him all the saving power that is in Him. Works do not save. Faith saves, when it is such faith as is real enough, vigorous enough, to do something, to express itself in works. Dead faith cannot save; living faith can; it is the living link with the living Saviour.
III. When separated, faith becomes a sentiment, and works become a snare.—If faith is checked from following out its natural impulses, it turns back upon itself, and having no air and no exercise gets thin, and ready to vanish away; or else it exaggerates to itself its own importance, and walks about its “little garden walled around” with an uplifted head that may be Pharisaic, but certainly is not Christly. Sentimentality is morally mischievous. It exhausts the religious capacity. It takes the place of service. Cherishing excellent but fruitless sentiments, many a man has gone on into the awful awakening of the after life unsaved. For sentiment never saved a soul from sin yet, and it is certain that it never will. And if a man stops with his proprieties and charities, and satisfies himself with his good works, he puts himself into temptation and a snare. He silences the inward voice—with which comes the Divine voice—convicting of sin that needs a Saviour. He lets good works stop his ears, and so not a sound of the Saviour’s gracious call to the weary and heavy laden can come in to him. Snared and held, it is nothing to him that “Jesus of Nazareth passes by.” Is that snare round you? Is your soul facing the great laws of God, and complacently saying, “All these have I kept from my youth up. What lack I yet?” Listen: those kind things you do are all very well in their way, but there is a stain on your soul. What are you going to do with that? You want Him—you want to believe in Him—who alone can cleanse the stain away.
IV. When united, faith becomes a power of life in works, and works become a nourishment of the power in faith.—Works have their value in the motives that inspire them. Many do kind things simply because they have kind dispositions. Many do kind things because they are overpressed by the sense of duty. And many do kind things because they feel the inspiration of noble examples; but none of these can ever lift our good works into the highest plane. They must have a higher motive than any of these: the “constraining love of Christ,” on whom the faith is savingly fixed. Saving faith is life and inspiration for all good works. All is done well, when done for Jesus’ sake. And the life of holy service and charity nourishes the faith. By use; for it is wanted for every good deed; but even more, because whoever spends himself in ministry, as the Lord Jesus did, sets himself upon constant renewals of spiritual strength, even as the Lord Jesus did. You cannot unite St. Paul’s “works” with “faith”; you must put “works,” as grounds of claim, altogether away. But you can unite St. James’s “works” with “faith,” and you must do so; for it is only the faith that can do something, and does do something, that saves the soul from death.
James 2:19. “The Lord our God is one Lord.”—A similar utterance of faith is held to be the test of the true believer in Islam, when the two inquiring angels put their awful questions to the departed soul. But the idea is much more ancient, for a similar confession was required of the just before Osiris, the lord of the Egyptian heaven.
The Faith of Devils.—St. James’s expression, “the devils [dæmons] also believe and tremble [shudder],” at once recalls to mind our Lord’s treatment of the devil-possessed sufferers, and the spirits of evil that possessed them. One case is especially to the point, and illustrative of this sentence. “There was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit: and he cried out, saying, Let us alone; what have we to do with Thee, Thou Jesus of Nazareth? art Thou come to destroy us? I know Thee who Thou art, the Holy One of God.” There is the faith in Christ of devils; and there is the shuddering fear which faith brings to them. St. James is not intending to argue that devils can believe. Given adequate grounds for any statement, and rational intelligences are bound to believe it, and prove themselves wholly unworthy of the trust of rational intelligence if they do not. Devils must believe, just as angels and men must. What St. James urges is that the faith of devils in Christ is a practical faith. There is almost a touch of humour in his reference to them. Their faith does not abide alone; it does not spend itself in profession; it impels them to do something. True, what they do is not much good to themselves or anybody else, but still it is doing. They shudder. St. James seems reproachfully to suggest, that very much of so-called Christian faith spends itself in sentiment; does nothing; does not even shudder.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 2
James 2:15-16. Practical Prayer and Benevolence.—In the vicinity of B—— lived a poor but industrious man, depending for support upon his daily labour. His wife fell sick, and not being able to hire a nurse, he was obliged to confine himself to the sickbed and the family. His means of support being thus cut off, he soon found himself in need. Having a wealthy neighbour near, he determined to go and ask for two bushels of wheat, with a promise to pay as soon as his wife became so much better that he could leave her and return to his work. Accordingly he took his bag, went to his neighbour’s, and arrived while the family were at morning prayers. As he sat on the doorstone, he heard the man pray very earnestly that God would clothe the naked, feed the hungry, relieve the distressed, and comfort all that mourn. The prayer concluded, the poor man stepped in and made known his business, promising to pay with the avails of his first labours. The farmer was very sorry he could not accommodate him, for he had promised to lend a large sum of money, and had depended upon his wheat to make it out; but he presumed neighbour —— would let him have it. With a tearful eye and a sad heart the poor man turned away. As soon as he left the house, the farmer’s little son stepped up and said, “Father, did you not pray that God would clothe the naked, feed the hungry, relieve the distressed, and comfort mourners?” “Yes: why?” “Because if I had your wheat I would answer that prayer.” It is needless to add that the Christian father called back his suffering neighbour, and gave him as much as he needed.
Give to him that needeth.—We read of King Oswald, that as he sat at table, when a fair silver dish, full of regal delicacies, was set before him, and he ready to fall to, hearing from his almoner that there were great store of poor at his gates, piteously crying out for some relief, did not fill them with words, as, “God help them!” “God relieve them!” “God comfort them!” but commanded his steward presently to take the dish off the table and distribute the meat, then beat the dish all in pieces and cast it among them.—Holdsworth.
James 2:17. True Faith acts.—True faith rests not in great and good desires, but acts and executes accordingly. It will be long enough ere the gale of good wishes carry us to heaven.—Bishop Hall.
Works evidence Faith.—Works are the evidence of faith. There is both light and heat in the candle; but put out the candle, and both are gone, one remains not without the other. As the pure fair orb which borrows radiance from the sun sheds heavenly light upon a world that lies in darkness, so do the Christian’s virtues shine. But as that beauteous planet, if ever it come between the world and its true source of light, darkens instead of brightens, throws on the earth below a shadow, not a beam, so what we most admire in man proves but a fatal snare, if it obscure the glory of the cross, the need of free salvation.—A. L. O. E.
Oars pulled together.—Two gentlemen were one day crossing the river in a ferry-boat. A dispute about faith and works arose,—one saying that good works were of small importance, and that faith was everything; the other asserting the contrary. Not being able to convince each other, the ferry-man, an enlightened Christian, asked permission to give his opinion. Consent being granted, he said, “I hold in my hands two oars. That in my right hand I call “faith”; the other, in my left, “works.” Now, gentlemen, please to observe, I pull the oar of faith, and pull that alone. See I the boat goes round and round, and the boat makes no progress. I do the same with the oar of works, and with a precisely similar result, no advance. Mark! I pull both together, we go on apace, and in a very few minutes we shall be at our landing-place. So, in my humble opinion,” he added, “faith without works, or works without faith, will not suffice. Let there be both, and the haven of eternal rest is sure to be reached.” As the flower is before the fruit, so is faith before good works. Faith is the parent of works, and the children will bear a resemblance to the parent. It is not enough that the inward works of a clock are well constructed, and also the dial-plate and hands; the one must act on the other, the works must regulate the movement of the hands.—Archbishop Whately.