what they are. We have heard of a famine in Ireland, and some dreadful stories have been related to us that have harrowed our hearts, and almost made our hair stand on end; but even there the full fury of famine was not known. We have heard too, to our great grief, that there are still in this city, dark and hideous places, where men and women are absolutely perishing from hunger, who have sold from off their backs the last rags that covered them, and are now unable to leave the house, and are positively perishing from famine. Such cases we have seen in our daily journals, and our hearts have been sick to think that such things could now occur. But none of us can guess what is the terror of a universal famine, when all men are poor, because all men lack bread, when gold and silver are as valueless as the stones of the street, because mountains of silver and gold would scarcely suffice to buy a single sheaf of wheat. Read the history of the famine of Samaria, and see the dreadful straits to which women were driven, when they even ate their own offspring. Famines are hells on earth. The famine which had overtaken Jacob was one which, if it had not at the moment of which this passage speaks, exactly arrived at that dreadful pitch, was sure to come to it; for the famine was to last for seven years; and if, through the spendthrift character of Eastern nations, they had not saved in the seven years of plenty enough even for one year, what would become of them during the sixth or seventh year of famine? This was the state of Jacob’s family. They were cast into a waste, howling wilderness of famine, with only one oasis, and that oasis they did not hear of until just at the time to which our text refers, when to their joy they learned that there was grain in Egypt. Permit me now to illustrate the condition of the sinner by the position of these sons of Jacob.
6. First, the sons of Jacob had a very great need of bread. There was a family of sixty-six of them. We are apt, when we read these names of the sons of Jacob, to think they were all lads. Are you aware, that Benjamin, the youngest of them, was the father of ten children, at the time he went into Egypt, so that he was a young lad at any rate, and all the rest had large families, so that there were sixty-six to be provided for. Well, a famine is frightful enough when there is one man who is starving — when there is one brought down to a skeleton through leanness and hunger: but when sixty-six mouths are craving for bread, that is indeed a horrible plight to be in. But what is this compared with the sinner’s needs! His necessities are such that only Infinity can supply them; the demands of sixty-six mouths are nothing compared with his demands. He has before him the dreadful anticipation of a hell, from which there is no escape; he has upon him the heavy hand of God, who has condemned him on account of his sins. What does he need? Why, all the manna that came down from heaven in the wilderness would not supply a sinner’s necessities, and all the water that gushed from the rock in the desert would not be sufficient to quench his thirst. Such is the need of the sinner, that all the handsful of Egypt’s seven years would be lost upon him. He needs great mercy; the greatest of mercy, no, he needs an infinity of mercy, and unless this is given to him from above, he is worse than starved, for he dies the second death, and lives in eternal death, without the hope of annihilation or escape. The demands of a hungry man are great; but the demands of a hungry soul are greater still; until that soul has the love and mercy of God revealed to it, it will always hunger and always thirst; though it had worlds given to it for mouthfuls, its hungry stomach would be still unsatisfied, for nothing except the Trinity can fill the heart of man; nothing except an assurance of the everlasting, immutable love of God, and an application of the most precious blood of Jesus, can ever satisfy the terrible hunger of the sinner’s soul.
7. Note, again: what these people needed was an essential thing. They did not lack clothes, that would have been a need, but nothing like the lack of bread; for a man might exist with only scanty covering. They did not need luxuries, — these they might want, and our pity would not be so much excited; they did not need tents, — without these they might be able to satisfy the cravings of nature; but they lacked bread — that without the fire of life would dwindle to a spark, which at last must die out in the darkness of death. “Bread! bread!” what a cry is that, when men gather together, and in the days of scarcity make that their war cry. “Bread! bread!” what is a more dreadful sound than that? “Fire! fire!” may be more alarming, but “Bread! bread!” is more piercing to the heart. The cry of “Fire!” rolls like thunder; but the cry of “Bread!” flashes like lightning, and withers one’s soul. Oh that men should cry for bread, — the absolute necessity for the sustenance of the body! But what is the sinner’s need? Is it not exactly this? — he needs that without which the soul must perish. Oh! sinner, if it would be health, if it would be wealth, if it would be comfort, which you were seeking, then you might sit down content, and say, “I can do without these”; but in this matter it is your soul, your never dying soul, that is hungering, and it is its salvation, its rescue from the flames of hell, which now demands your attention. Oh! what a need is that, — the need of the soul’s salvation! We talk about bread and about skeleton bodies? These are frightful things to look upon; but when we speak of a lack of bread, and of dying, perishing souls, there is something more frightful here. See, then, your case, you who are without the grace of God; you have great necessity, — necessity for essential things.
8. Yet again; the necessity of the sons of Jacob was a total one. They had no bread; there was none to be procured. As long as they had some of their own, they could stint themselves, and diminish their rations, and so, by moderation, maintain themselves. But they looked into the future, and saw their children dying with hunger, and not one crust with which to palliate their pangs. They saw their wives sickening before them, and their babes at their breasts, unable to obtain nourishment from those dry fountains. They saw themselves at length, solitary, miserable men, with their hands on their loins, bundles of bones, crawling about the tents where their children lay dead, and themselves without strength enough to bury them. They had a total lack of bread. They might have borne with scarcity: but a total lack of bread was horrible in the extreme. Such is the sinner’s case. It is not that he has a little grace, and lacks more; but he has none at all. By himself he has no grace. It is not that he has a little goodness, and needs to be made better, but he has no goodness at all, no merits, no righteousness — nothing to bring to God, nothing to offer for his acceptance; he is penniless, poverty stricken; everything is gone upon which his soul might feed. He may gnaw the dry bones of his own good works; but if the Lord has sent conviction into his heart, he will gnaw them in vain; he may try to break the bones of ceremonies, but he shall find that instead of marrow they contain gall and bitterness. He may hunger and hunger, because he has positively nothing with which he could fill his stomach. Such is your case, then. How abject is such a necessity as this: a total lack of an essential thing for which you have an immense need.
9. But yet worse: with the exception of Egypt, the sons of Jacob were convinced that there was no food anywhere. I believe the reason why they looked one at one another was this. At first one looked at the other as much as to say, “Have you not some to spare? Could you not give me some for my family?” Perhaps Dan appealed to Simeon, “Have you not some? my child is starving this day; can you not help me?” Another might look at Judah; and perhaps they might imagine that Benjamin the favourite would surely have some morsel stored up. So they looked at one another. But soon alas! the look of hope changed into the look of despair. They were quite certain that the necessities of each house had been so great, that no one could help the other. They had all come to poverty; and how can beggars help each other, when all are penniless? And then they began to look upon one another in despair. In speechless silence they resigned themselves to the woe which threatened to overwhelm them. Such is the sinner’s condition, when first he begins to feel a hungering and thirsting after righteousness, he looks to others. He thinks, “Surely the minister can help me; the priest may assist me.” “Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are gone out.” But after awhile he discovers that the state of all men is the same, that all are without grace, that “no one can save his brother, or give to God a ransom for him.” And apart from Christ we, my dear friends, this morning might look at one another, aghast and in despair — might search the whole wide world over, and say “Where is salvation to be found!” Oh! if it lay in the very centre of the earth, we could dig through the rocks and into the very bowels of the earth to find it. If it would be in heaven, we would seek to scale it with some Babel tower, that we might reach the boon. If
