6. 2. But a worse trial than this was to overtake him. The archers of TEMPTATION shot at him. Here I do not know how to express myself. I wish that someone more qualified to speak was here, that he might tell you the tale of Joseph’s trial, and Joseph’s triumph. Sold to a master who soon discovered his value, Joseph was made the steward of the house, and the manager of the household. His wanton mistress fixed her adulterous love on him; and he, being continually in her presence, was perpetually, day by day, solicited by her to evil deeds. Constantly he refused still enduring a martyrdom at the slow fire of her enticements. On one eventful day she grasped him, seeking to compel him to crime; but he, like a true hero, as he was, said to her, “How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?” Like a wise warrior, he knew that in such a case fleeing was the better part of valour. He heard a voice in his ears, “Flee, Joseph, flee; there remains no way of victory but flight”; and out he fled, leaving his garment with his adulterous mistress. Oh, I say in all the annals of heroism there is not one that shall surpass this. You know it is opportunity that makes a man criminal, and he had abundant opportunity; but importunity will drive most men astray. To be haunted day by day by solicitations of the softest kind — to be tempted hour by hour — oh! it needs a strength super angelic, a might more than human, a strength which only God can grant, for a young man thus to cleanse his way, and take heed to it according to God’s word. He might have reasoned within himself, “Should I submit and yield, there lies before me a life of ease and pleasure; I shall be exalted, I shall be rich. She shall prevail over her husband, to cover me with honours; but should I still adhere to my integrity, I shall be cast into prison, I shall be thrown into the dungeon; there awaits me nothing but shame and disgrace.” Oh! there was a power indeed within that heart of his; there was an inconceivable might, which made him turn away with unutterable disgust, with fear and trembling, while he said, “How can I? how can I — God’s Joseph — how can I — other men might, but how can I do this great wickedness and sin against God.” Truly the archers bitterly grieved him and shot at him; but his bow remained in strength.
7. 3. Then another host of archers assailed him: these were the archers of MALICIOUS CALUMNY. Seeing that he would not yield to temptation, his mistress falsely accused him to her husband, and his lord believing the voice of his wife, cast him into prison. It was a marvellous providence that he did not put him to death, for Potiphar, his master, was the chief of the slaughtermen; he had only to call in a soldier, who would have cut him in pieces on the spot. But he cast him into prison. There was poor Joseph. His character ruined in the eyes of man, and very likely looked upon with scorn even in the prison house; base criminals went away from him as if they thought him more vile than themselves, as if they were angels in comparison with him. Oh! it is no easy thing to feel your character gone, to think that you are slandered, that things are said of you that are untrue. Many a man’s heart has been broken by this, when nothing else could make him yield. The archers bitterly grieved him when he was so maligned — so slandered. Oh child of God, do you expect to escape these archers? Will you never be slandered? Will you never be calumniated? It is the lot of God’s servants, in proportion to their zeal, to be evil spoken of. Remember the noble Whitfield, how he stood and was the butt of all the jeers and scoffs of half an age, while his only answer was a blameless life.
And he who forged, and he who threw the dart,
Had each a brother’s interest in his heart.
They reviled him and imputed to him crimes that Sodom never knew. So shall it be always with those who preach God’s truth, and all the followers of Christ — they must all expect it; but blessed be God, they have not said worse things of us than they said of our Master. What have they laid to our charge? They may have said “he is drunken and a winebibber”: but they have not said “he has a devil.” They have accused us of being mad, so was it said of Paul. Oh, holy infatuation, heavenly furore, oh that we could bite others until they had the same madness. We think if to go to heaven is mad, we will not choose to be wise; we see no wisdom in preferring hell; we can see no great prudence in despising and hating God’s truth. If to serve God is vile, we purpose to be viler still. Ah! friends, some now present know this verse by heart, “The archers have bitterly grieved him, and shot at him, and hated him.” Expect it; do not think it a strange thing; all God’s people must have it. There are no royal roads to heaven — they are paths of trial and trouble; the archers will shoot at you as long as you are on this side of the flood.
8. II. We have seen these archers shoot their flights of arrows; we will now go up the hill a little, behind a rock, to look at the SHIELDED WARRIOR and see how his courage is while the archers have bitterly grieved him. What is he doing? “His bow remains in strength.” Let us picture God’s favourite. The archers are down below. There is a parapet of rock before him; now and then he looks over it to see what the archers are doing, but generally he keeps behind it. In heavenly security he is set upon a rock, careless of all below. Let us follow the track of the wild goat; and behold the warrior in his fortress.
9. First, we notice that he has a bow himself, for we read that “his bow remained in strength.” He could have retaliated if he pleased, but he was very quiet and would not fight with them. Had he pleased, he might have drawn his bow with all his strength, and sent his weapon to their hearts with far greater precision than they had ever done to him. But see the warrior’s quietness. There he rests, stretching his mighty limbs; his bow remained in strength; he seemed to say, “Rage on, indeed, let your arrows spend themselves, empty your quivers on me, let your bowstrings be worn out, and let the wood be broken with its constant bending: here I am, stretching myself in safe repose; my bow abides in strength; I have other work