The Prophets were ever ungratefully treated by the Israelites, they were resisted, their warnings neglected, their good services forgotten.  But there was this difference between the earlier and the later Prophets; the earlier lived and died in honour among their people, in outward honour; though hated and thwarted by the wicked, they were exalted to high places, and ruled in the congregation.  Moses, for instance, was in trouble from his people all his life long, but to the end he was their lawgiver and judge.  Samuel, too, even though rejected, was still held in reverence; and when he died, “all the Israelites were gathered together and lamented him, and buried him in his house at Ramah.”  David died on a royal throne.  But in the latter times, the prophets were not only feared and hated by the enemies of God, but cast out of the vineyard.  As the time approached for the coming of the true Prophet of the Church, the Son of God, they resembled Him in their earthly fortunes more and more; and as He was to suffer, so did they.  Moses was a ruler, Jeremiah was an outcast:  Samuel was buried in peace, John the Baptist was beheaded.  In St. Paul’s words, they “had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover, of bonds and imprisonment.  They were stoned; they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword; they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented; of whom the world was not worthy; they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.”

Of these, Elijah, who lived in the wilderness, and the hundred prophets whom Obadiah fed by fifty in a cave, are examples of the wanderers.  And Micaiah, who was appointed the bread of affliction and the water of affliction by an idolatrous king, is the specimen of those who “had trial of bonds and imprisonment.”  Of those who were sawn asunder and slain with the sword, Isaiah is the chief, who, as tradition goes, was by order of Manasseh, the son of Hezekiah, sawn asunder with a wooden saw.  And of those who were stoned, none is more famous than Zechariah, the son of Jehoiada, “who was slain between the temple and the altar.”  But of all the persecuted prophets Jeremiah is the most eminent; i. e. we know more of his history, of his imprisonments, his wanderings, and his afflictions.  He may be taken as a representative of the Prophets; and hence it is that he is an especial type of our Lord and Saviour.  All the Prophets were types of the Great Prophet whose way they were preparing; they tended towards and spoke of Christ.  In their sufferings they foreshadowed His priesthood, and in their teaching His prophetical office, and in their miracles His royal power.  The history of Jeremiah, then, as being drawn out in Scripture more circumstantially than that of the other Prophets, is the most exact type of Christ among them; that is, next to David, who, of course, was the nearest resemblance to Him of all, as a sufferer, an inspired teacher, and a king.  Jeremiah comes next to David; I do not say in dignity and privilege, for it was Elijah who was taken up to heaven, and appeared at the Transfiguration; nor in inspiration, for to Isaiah one should assign the higher evangelical gifts; but in typifying Him who came and wept over Jerusalem, and then was tortured and put to death by those He wept over.  And hence, when our Lord came, while some thought Him Elijah, and others John the Baptist, risen from the dead, there were others who thought Him Jeremiah.  Of Jeremiah, then, I will now speak, as a specimen of all those Prophets whom St. Paul sets before us as examples of faith, and St. James as examples of patience.  Jeremiah’s ministry may be summed up in three words, good hope, labour, disappointment.

It was his privilege to be called to his sacred office from his earliest years.  Like Samuel, the first prophet, he was of the tribe of Levi, dedicated from his birth to religious services, and favoured with the constant presence and grace of God.  “Before I formed thee . . .  I knew thee,” says the word of the Lord to him when He gave him his commission, “and before thou camest out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations.”  This commission was given the year after Josiah began his reformation.  Jeremiah returned for answer, “Ah!  Lord God! behold, I cannot speak; for I am a child.”  He felt the arduousness of a prophet’s office; the firmness and intrepidity which were required to speak the words of God.  “But the Lord said unto him, Say not I am a child; for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak.  Be not afraid of their faces, for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith the Lord.  Then the Lord put forth His hand and touched my mouth, and said unto me, Behold I have put My words in thy mouth.”

No prophet commenced his labours with greater encouragement than Jeremiah.  A king had succeeded to the throne who was bringing back the times of the man after God’s own heart.  There had not been a son of David so zealous as Josiah since David himself.  The king, too, was young, at most twenty years of age, in the beginning of his reformation.  What might not be effected in a course of years, however corrupt and degraded was the existing state of his people?  So Jeremiah might think.  It must be recollected, too, that religious obedience was under the Jewish covenant awarded with temporal prosperity.  There seemed, then, every reason for Jeremiah at first to suppose that bright fortunes were in store for the Church.  Josiah was the very king whose birth was foretold by name above three hundred years before, when Jeroboam established idolatry; who was the promised avenger of God’s covenant, “the repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in.”  Israel (the ten tribes) having gone into captivity, schism had come to its end; the kings of the house of David again ruled over the whole extent of the promised land; idolatry was destroyed by Josiah in all the cities.  Such were the present blessings which the Jewish remnant enjoyed.  At first sight, then, it seemed reasonable to anticipate further and permanent improvement.  Every one begins with being sanguine; doubtless then, as now, many labourers in God’s husbandry entered on their office with more lively hopes than their after fortunes warranted.  Whether or not, however, such hope of success encouraged Jeremiah’s first exertions, very soon, in his case, this cheerful prospect was overcast, and he was left to labour in the dark.  Huldah’s message to the king, on his finding the Book of the Law in the temple, fixed the coming fortunes of Judah.  Huldah foretold a woe, an early removal of the good Josiah to his rest as a mercy to him, and to the nation, who were unworthy of him, a fierce destruction.  This prophecy was delivered five years after Jeremiah entered upon his office; he ministered in all forty years before the captivity, so early in his course were his hopes cut away.

But even though Huldah’s message be supposed not to reach him, still he was doubtless soon undeceived as to any hopes he might entertain, whether, by the express Word of God informing him, or by the actual hardened state of sin in which the nation lay.  Soon, surely, were his hopes destroyed, and his mind sobered into a more blessed and noble temper, resignation.

I call resignation a more blessed frame of mind than sanguine hope of present success, because it is the truer, and the more consistent with our fallen state of being, and the more improving to our hearts; and because it is that for which the most eminent servants of God have been conspicuous.  To expect great effects from our exertions for religious objects is natural indeed, and innocent, but it arises from inexperience of the kind of work we have to do, to change the heart and will of man.  It is a far nobler frame of mind, to labour, not with the hope of seeing the fruit of our labour, but for conscience’ sake, as a matter of duty; and again, in faith, trusting good will be done, though we see it not.  Look through the Bible, and you will find God’s servants, even though they began with success, end with disappointment; not that God’s purposes or His instruments fail, but that the time for reaping what we have sown is hereafter, not here; that here there is no great visible fruit in any one man’s lifetime.  Moses, for instance, began with leading the Israelites out of Egypt in triumph; he ended at the age of an hundred and twenty years, before his journey was finished and Canaan gained, one among the offending multitudes who were overthrown in the wilderness.  Samuel’s reformations ended in the people’s wilfully choosing a king like the nations around them.  Elijah, after his successes, fled from Jezebel into the wilderness to mourn over his disappointments.  Isaiah, after Hezekiah’s religious reign, and the miraculous destruction of Sennacherib’s army, fell upon the evil days of his son Manasseh.  Even in the successes of the first Christian teachers, the Apostles, the same rule is observed.  After all the great works God enabled them to accomplish, they confessed before their death that what they experienced, and what they saw before them, was reverse and calamity, and that the fruit of their labour would not be seen, till Christ came to open the books and collect His saints from the four corners of the earth.  “Evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived,” is the testimony of St. Peter, St. Paul, St. John, and St. Jude.

Now, in the instance of Jeremiah, we have on record that variety and vicissitude of feelings, which this transition from hope to disappointment produces, at least in a sensitive mind.  His trials were very great, even in Josiah’s reign; but when that pious king’s countenance was withdrawn on his early death, he was exposed to persecution from every class of men.  At one time we read of the people conspiring against him, at another, of the men of his own city, Anathoth, “seeking his life,” on account of his prophesying in the Lord’s name.  At another time he was seized by the priests and the prophets in order to be put to death, from which he was only saved by certain of the princes and elders who were still faithful to the memory of Josiah.  Then, again, Pashur, the chief governor of the temple, smote him and tortured him.  At another time, the king, Zedekiah, put him in prison.  Afterwards, when the army of the Chaldeans had besieged Jerusalem, the Jews accused him of falling away to the enemy, and smote him, and imprisoned him, then they cast him into a dungeon, where he “sunk in the mire,” and almost perished from hunger.  When Jerusalem had been taken by the enemy, Jeremiah was forcibly carried down to Egypt; by men who at first pretended to reverence and consult him, and there he came to his end it is believed, a violent end.  Nebuchadnezzar, the heathen king of Babylon and conqueror of Jerusalem, was one of the few persons who showed him kindness.  This great king, who afterwards honoured Daniel, and was at length brought to acknowledge the God of heaven by a severe chastisement, on the taking of the city delivered Jeremiah from prison, and gave charge to the captain of his guard concerning him, to “look well to him, and to do him no harm; but to do unto him even as he should say . . . .”  An Ethiopian, another heathen, is also mentioned as delivering him from the dungeon.

Such were his trials:  his affliction, fear, despondency, and sometimes even restlessness under them are variously expressed; that succession and tide of feelings which most persons undergo before their minds settle into the calm of resignation.  At one time he speaks as astonished at his failure:  “O Lord, art not Thine eyes upon the truth?  Thou hast stricken them, but they have not grieved; Thou hast consumed them, but they have refused to receive correction.”  Again, “A wonderful and horrible thing is committed in the land; the prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means; and My people love to have it so.”  At another time, he expresses his perplexity at the disorder of the world, and the successes of the wicked:  “Righteous art Thou, O Lord, when I plead with Thee; yet let me talk with Thee of Thy judgments:  wherefore doth the way of the wicked prosper? wherefore are all they happy that deal very treacherously? . . . but Thou, O Lord, knowest me; Thou hast seen me, and tried mine heart towards Thee.”  Then, in turn, his mind frets at the thought of its own anxious labours and perplexities:  “Woe is me, my mother, that thou hast borne me a man of strife and a man of contention to the whole earth!  I have neither lent on usury, nor men have lent to me on usury; yet every one of them doth curse me. . .  Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable? . . . wilt Thou be altogether unto me as a deceiver, and as waters that fail?” These are the sorrows of a gentle and peaceable mind, forced against its will into the troubles of life, and incurring the hatred of those whom it opposes against its nature.  This he elsewhere expresses thus:  “As for me, I have not . . . desired the woeful day” (which he foretold); “Thou knowest:  that which came out of my lips was right before Thee.  Be not a terror unto me:  Thou art my hope in the day of evil.”  When Pashur put him to torture he was still more agitated, and said, “O Lord, Thou hast deceived me, and I was deceived.  Thou art stronger than I, and hast prevailed.  I am in derision daily, every one mocketh me . . .  Cursed be the day wherein I was born” (here certainly is the language even of impatience), “let not the day wherein my mother bare me be blessed.”

However, of such changes of feelings what was the end? resignation.  He elsewhere uses language which expresses that chastened spirit and weaned heart, which is the termination of all agitation and anxiety in the case of religious minds.  He, who at one time could not comfort himself, at another was sent to comfort a brother, and, in comforting Baruch, he speaks in that nobler temper of resignation which takes the place of sanguine hope and harassing fear, and betokens calm and clear-sighted faith and inward peace.  “Thus saith the Lord the God of Israel unto thee, O Baruch.  Thou didst say, Woe is me now, for the Lord hath added grief to my sorrow; I fainted in my sighing, and I find no rest. . .  Behold, that which I have built will I break down, and that which I have planted I will pluck up, even this whole land.  And seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them not:  for, behold, I will bring evil upon all flesh; . . . but thy life will I give unto thee for a prey in all places whither thou goest,” that is, seek not success, be not impatient, fret not thyself be content, if, after all thy labours, thou dost but save thyself, without seeing other fruit of them.

And now, my brethren, does what I have been saying apply to all of us, or only to Prophets?  It applies to all of us.  For all of us live in a world which promises well, but does not fulfil; and all of us (taking our lives altogether apart from religious prospects) begin with hope, and end with disappointment.  Doubtless, there is much difference in our respective trials here, arising from difference of tempers and fortunes.  Still it is in our nature to begin life thoughtlessly and joyously; to seek great things in one way or other; to have vague notions of good to come; to love the world, and to believe its promises, and seek satisfaction and happiness from it.  And, as it is our nature to hope, so it is our lot, as life proceeds, to encounter disappointment.  I know that there are multitudes, in the retired ranks of society, who pass their days without any great varieties of fortune; though, even in such cases, thinking persons will have much more to say of themselves than at first sight might appear.  Still, that disappointment in some shape or other is the lot of man (that is, looking at our prospects apart from the next world) is plain, from the mere fact, if nothing else could be said, that we begin life with health and end it with sickness; or in other words, that it comes to an end, for an end is a failure.  And even in the quietest walks of life, do not the old feel regret, more or less vividly, that they are not young?  Do not they lament the days gone by, and even with the pleasure of remembrance feel the pain?  And why, except that they think that they have lost something which they once had, whereas in the beginning of life, they thought of gaining something they had not?  A double disappointment.

Now is it religion that suggests this sad view of things?  No, it is experience; it is the world’s doing; it is fact, from which we cannot escape, though the Bible said not a word about the perishing nature of all earthly pleasures.

Here then it is, that God Himself offers us His aid by His Word, and in His Church.  Left to ourselves, we seek good from the world, but cannot find it; in youth we look forward, and in age we look back.  It is well we should be persuaded of these things betimes, to gain wisdom and to provide for the evil day.  Seek we great things?  We must seek them where they really are to be found, and in the way in which they are to be found; we must seek them as He has set them before us, who came into the world to enable us to gain them.  We must be willing to give up present hope for future enjoyment, this world for the unseen.  The truth is (though it is so difficult for us to admit it heartily), our nature is not at first in a state to enjoy happiness, even if we had it offered to us.  We seek for it, and we feel we need it; but (strange though it is to say, still so it is) we are not fitted to be happy.  If then at once we rush forward to seek enjoyment, it will be like a child’s attempting to walk before his strength is come.  If we would gain true bliss, we must cease to seek it as an end; we must postpone the prospect of enjoying it.  For we are by nature in an unnatural state; we must be changed from what we are when born, before we can receive our greatest good.  And as in sickness sharp remedies are often used, or irksome treatment, so it is with our souls; we must go through pain, we must practise self-denial, we must curb our wills, and purify our hearts, before we are capable of any lasting solid peace.  To attempt to gain happiness, except in this apparently tedious and circuitous way, is a labour lost; it is building on the sand; the foundation will soon give way, though the house looks fair for a time.  To be gay and thoughtless, to be self-indulgent and self-willed, is quite out of character with our real state.  We must learn to know ourselves, and to have thoughts and feelings becoming ourselves.  Impetuous hope and undisciplined mirth ill-suit a sinner.  Should he shrink from low notions of himself, and sharp pain, and mortification of natural wishes, whose guilt called down the Son of God from heaven to die upon the cross for him?  May he live in pleasure here, and call this world his home, while he reads in the Gospel of his Saviour’s life-long affliction and disappointment?

It cannot be; let us prepare for suffering and disappointment, which befit us as sinners, and which are necessary for us as saints.  Let us not turn away from trial when God brings it on us, or play the coward in the fight of faith.  “Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong;” such is St. Paul’s exhortation.  When affliction overtakes you, remember to accept it as a means of improving your hearts, and pray God for His grace that it may do so.  Look disappointment in the face.  “Take . . . the Prophets . . . for an example of suffering affliction, and of patience.  Behold, we count them happy who endure.”  Give not over your attempts to serve God, though you see nothing come of them.  Watch and pray, and obey your conscience, though you cannot perceive your own progress in holiness.  Go on, and you cannot but go forward; believe it, though you do not see it.  Do the duties of your calling, though they are distasteful to you.  Educate your children carefully in the good way, though you cannot tell how far God’s grace has touched their hearts.  Let your light shine before men, and praise God by a consistent life, even though others do not seem to glorify their Father on account of it, or to be benefited by your example.  “Cast your bread upon the waters, for you shall find it after many days. . . .  In the morning sow your seed, in the evening withhold not your hand; for you know not whether shall prosper, either this or that; or whether they both shall be alike good.”  Persevere in the narrow way.  The Prophets went through sufferings to which ours are mere trifles; violence and craft combined to turn them aside, but they kept right on, and are at rest.

Now, I know full well, that this whole subject is distasteful to many men, who say we ought to be cheerful.  “We are bid rejoice, why then do you bid us mourn?” I bid you mourn in order that you may rejoice more perfectly.  “Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.”  “They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy.”  I bid you take up the cross of Christ, that you may wear His crown.  Give your hearts to Him, and you will for yourselves solve the difficulty, how Christians can be sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing.  You will find that lightness of heart and cheerfulness are quite consistent with that new and heavenly character which He gives us, though to gain it in any good measure, we must for a time be sorrowful, and ever after thoughtful.  But I give you fair warning, you must at first take His word on trust; and if you do not, there is no help for it.  He says, “Come unto Me, . . . and I will give you rest.”  You must begin on faith:  you cannot see at first whither He is leading you, and how light will rise out of the darkness.  You must begin by denying yourselves your natural wishes, a painful work; by refraining from sin, by rousing from sloth, by preserving your tongue from insincere words, and your hands from deceitful dealings, and your eyes from beholding vanity; by watching against the first rising of anger, pride, impurity, obstinacy, jealousy; by learning to endure the laugh of irreligious men for Christ’s sake; by forcing your minds to follow seriously the words of prayer, though it be difficult to you, and by keeping before you the thought of God all through the day.  These things you will be able to do if you do but seek the mighty help of God the Holy Spirit which is given you; and while you follow after them, then, in the Prophet’s language, “your light shall rise in obscurity, and your darkness shall be as the noonday.  And the Lord shall guide you continually, and satisfy your soul in drought:  and you shall be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.”