anything good of this man?" Wellington said: "I have heard
that at his trial a man said that he had been a good son to his old
mother." "Then let his life be spared," said the queen, and she
ordered his sentence commuted.

Christ is on a throne of grace. Our case is brought before him. The
question is asked: "Is there any good about this man?" The law says:
"None." Justice says: "None." Our own conscience says: "None."
Nevertheless, Christ hands over our pardon, and asks us to take it.
Oh, the height and depth, the length and breadth of his mercy!

Again, Christ is a near refuge. When we are attacked, what advantage
is there in having a fortress on the other side of the mountain? Many
an army has had an intrenchment, but could not get to it before the
battle opened. Blessed be God, it is no long march to our castle. We
may get off, with all our troops, from the worst earthly defeat in
this stronghold. In a moment we may step from the battle into the
tower. I sing of a Saviour near.

During the late war the forts of the North were named after the
Northern generals, and the forts of the South were named after the
Southern generals. This fortress of our soul I shall call Castle
Jesus. I have seen men pursued of sins that chased them with feet of
lightning, and yet with one glad leap they bounded into the tower. I
have seen troubles, with more than the speed and terror of a cavalry
troop, dash after a retreating soul, yet were hurled back in defeat
from the bulwarks. Jesus near! A child's cry, a prisoner's prayer, a
sailor's death-shriek, a pauper's moan reaches him. No pilgrimages on
spikes. No journeying with a huge pack on your back. No kneeling in
penance in cold vestibule of mercy. But an open door! A compassionate
Saviour! A present salvation! A near refuge! Castle Jesus!

Oh, why do you not put out your arm and reach it? Why do you not fly
to it? Why be riddled, and shelled, and consumed under the rattling
bombardment of perdition, when one moment's faith would plant you in
the glorious refuge? I preach a Jesus here; a Jesus now; a fountain
close to your feet; a fiery pillar right over your head; bread already
broken for your hunger; a crown already gleaming for your brow. Hark
to the castle gates rattling back for your entrance! Hear you not the
welcome of those who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope
set before us?

Again, it is a universal refuge. A fortress is seldom large enough to
hold a whole