ss and the Cross of Jesus Christ. He, and He
alone, can deal with the disturbing element in my relation to God. He
can 'deliver me from my enemies, for they are too strong for me.' It is
Christ and His work, Christ and His sacrifice, Christ and His indwelling
Spirit that will grapple with and overcome sin and all its consequences,
in any man and in every man; taking away its penalty, lightening the
heart of the burden of its guilt, delivering from its love and
dominion--all three of which things are the barbs of the arrows with
which fear riddles heart and conscience. So my fear should proclaim to
me the merciful 'Name that is above every name,' and drive me as well as
draw me to Christ, the Conqueror of sin, and the Antagonist of all
dread.

Brethren, I said I was not preaching the religion of Fear. But I think
we shall scarcely understand the religion of Love unless we recognise
that dread is a legitimate part of an unforgiven man's attitude towards
God. My fear should be to me like the misshapen guide that may lead me
to the fortress where I shall be safe. Oh, do not tamper with the
wholesome sense of dread! Do not let it lie, generally sleeping, and now
and then waking in your hearts, and bringing about nothing. Sailors that
crash on with all sails set--stunsails and all--whilst the barometer is
rapidly falling, and boding clouds are on the horizon, and the line of
the approaching gale is ruffling the sea yonder, have themselves to
blame if they founder. Look to the falling barometer, and make ready for
the coming storm, and remember that the mission of fear is to lead you
to the Christ who will take it away.

III. Lastly, the expulsion of fear.

My text points out the natural antagonism, and mutual exclusiveness, of
these two emotions. If I go to Jesus Christ as a sinful man, and get His
love bestowed upon me, then, as the next verse to my text says, my love
springs in response to His to me, and in the measure in which that love
rises in my heart will it frustrate its antagonistic dread.

As I said, you cannot love and fear the same person, unless the love is
of a very rudimentary and imperfect character. But just as when you pour
pure water into a bladder, the poisonous gases that it may have
contained will be driven out before it, so when love comes in, dread
goes out. The river, turned into the foul Augean stables of the heart,
will sweep out all the filth and leave everything clean. The black,
greasy smoke-