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ROSE PUBLISHING COMPANY. "The special work of our ministry is to lay open Christ, to hold up the tapestry and unfold the mysteries of Christ. Let us labour therefore to be always speaking somewhat about Christ, or tending that way. When we speali of the law, let it drive us to Christ ; when of moral duties, let them teach us to walk worthy of Christ, Christ, or something tending to Christ, should be our theme and mark to aim at." SiBBS. "And surely this is the sweetest subject t'lai ever was preached no ; ih it not an ointment poured forth, whose smell IS so fragrant, and whose savour is so sweet, that therefore all the virgins love him. Is it not a subject which comprehends all the glory and excellency and beauty of all the things in heaven aod iu earth f " Isaac Ambrosi. 9a ^i ®ne (gaU of fcalrtu aub dEartft, in be ah Oattottv (mS» 0li:ii;ij, wctvlt* witl)cittt enit, ®fl t^e glorious |atfecr, ClT'OUf ttrttlt ©0i» of ^IttVrtCl } ®o tfee gnuious Son, the i^e^«etner of Ijio people ; fo tfee |o(B (g|0$t, ®lje gltttljor of ^atictiflcrttion J be (M;t«i;la»t{ttD pvaiae fov iljai cvvevicnce of fvsB iBvaet attii 9(iveveinn $cve ^ CONTENTS. CHAPTER L PAOff The Dbspised Friend 9 CHAPTER IL Faithful Wounds 34 CHAPTER IlL Jesus Desired 74 chafi:er IV. Jesus Pabdonino 115 CHAPTER V. Joy at Conyebsion « 129 CHAPTER VI. CoKPLBtl TK CHBXSt. «.....* IM Viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIL rAoi XiovR TO Jesus 177 CHAPTER VIII. Love's Logic 200 CHAPTER IX. Jesus in the Hour of Trouble 231 CHAPTER X. Jesus Hiding Himself 269 CHAPTER XL The Causes of Apparent Deskrtion 276 CHAPTER XIL Communion Pbbsbrysd « 30i 1 V 177 200 231 259 276 30) THE SAIJ^T AND HIS SAYIOUK. -♦•♦-♦- sue 3t^\ti$t& Irifttd. ** We esteemed him not." — Isa. liii. 3. mi VPJ ^^M'^/f T would not be easy for some of us to recall the fe^J IhSff liour when we first heard the name of Jesus. ;Jll^j In very infancy that sweet sound was as fa- "^ miliar to our ear as the hush pf lullaby. Our earliest recollections are associated with the ^>^'p house of God, the family altar, the Holy Bible, the 4^ sacred song, and the fervent prayer. Like young Samuels, we were li^/ .kI to our rest by the lamps of the sanctuary, and were awakened by the sound of the morning hymn. Many a time has the man of God, whom a parent's hospitality has entertained, implored a blessing on our head, desiring in all sincerity that we might early call the Redeemer blessed ; and to his petition a mother's earnest "Amen" has solemnly responded. Ours were happy portions and goodly heritages; but nevertheless, being " born in sin, and shapen in iniquity," these hea- 10 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. venly privilcgt'.s did not of themselves avail to give us love to Jesus and pardon by his hlood. We are often compelled to wee}) over sins aggravated by light as clear as noonday, — ordinances imdervalued from their very frecpiency, — warnings despised, although accompanied with tears from a parent's eye, — and loath- ings felt in the heart if not expressed by the lips, to those very blessings which were the rich benisons of heaven. In our own persons we are witnesses to the fact of innate depravity, the birth-plague of uian ; and we can testify to the doctrine that grace, and grace alone, can change the heart. The words of Isaiah are ours with an empha- sis, notwithstanding all the hallowed iniluences which surrounded us: and in uttering the confession, "We es- teemed him not," the haunts of our childhood, the com- ])anions of our youth, and the sins of our manhood, unan- imously conHrm our truthftdness. Starting, then, with our own experience, we are led to infer that those who were denied our advantages will cer- tainly be compelled to adopt the same humble language. If the child of pious parents, who by divine power was in youth brought to know the Lord, feels constrained to acknowledge that once he did not esteem the Saviour, shall the man whose education was irreligion, whose childhood was riot, whose youth was license, and whose maturity was crime, be able to adopt language less hu- miliating ? No ; we believe that all men of this class who are now redeemed from the hand of the enemy, will read- ily acknowledge that they were the blind neglecters of the beauties of our glorious Emmanuel. Aye, more, we venture to challenge the " Church of the first-born " to l)roduce a single saint who did not once pass by the cross with indifference, if not contempt. Whether we review the " noble army of martyrs," " the goodly fellowship of the prophets," "the glorious company of the apostles," or " the holy Church throughout all the THE DESPISED FRIEND. 11 Ic language. world," we shall not discover a sinj^le lover of the adora- ble Kedeoiner who will not join the general confession, " We esteemed him not." Pause, attentive reader, and ask thyself whether thou dost esteem him voiv, for possibly it may happen that thou hast not as yet seen in him any " beauty that thou shouhk'st desire him," nor c^nst thou .subscribe to the exclamation of the si)()use, " Yea, he is altogether lovely." 8h(juld this be thine unliappy condition, a meditation thereon may, \inder the Holy Spirit's influence, be of much use to thee ; and I licseech thee, while we unfold the secrets of what was once our prison-house, be thou intensely anxious that by any means thou also mayest escape a bondage which deprives thee of joy here, and will shut thee out from bliss hereafter. We propose to endeavour first of all to bring the fact of our light estimation of Jesus vividly before our eye ; then, secondly, we will discuss the causes of this folly ; and, thirdly, seek to excite emotions proper to such a mournful contemplation. I. Let us go to the potter's house, and view the un- shapen clay which we once were; let us remember "the rock whence we were hewn," and the " hole of the pit from which we were digged," that we may with deeper feeling repeat the text, " We esteemed him not." Let us I here seriously peruse the diary of memory, for there the witnesses of our guilt have faithfully recorded their [names. We pause, and consider first our overt acts of sin, for I these lie like immense boulders on the sides of the hill of [life, sure testifiers to the rock within. I Few men would dare to read their own autobiography, if all their deeds were recorded in it ; few can look back upon their entire career without a blush. " We have all Binned, and come short of his glory" N^ne of us can lay T" 12 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. claim to perfection. True, at times a forgetful self-com- placency bids us exult in the virtue of our lives ; but when faithful memory awakes, how instantly she dispels the illusion ! She waves her maific wa.nd, and in the king's palaces frogs arise in multitudes: the pure rivers at her glance become blood; the whole land is creeping with loathsom eness. Where we imagined purity, lo, im- perfecticn ariseth. The snow-wreath of satisfaction melts before the sun of truth ; the nectared bowl of gratulation is embittered by sad remembrances ; while, under the glass of honesty, the deformities and irregularities of a life apparently correct are rendered, alas ! too visible. Let the Christian, whose hair is whitened by the sun- light of heaven, tell his life- long story. He may have been one of the most upright and moral, but there will be one dark spot in his' history, upon which he will shed the tear of penitence, because then he knew not the fear of the Lord. Let yon heroic warrior of Jesus recount his deeds ; but he too poin^ ^-od. The secondary causes of the folly which we once com- mitted lie very near the surface, and may repay a mo- ment's observation. Self-esteem had much to do with our ill-troatment of " the sinner's Friend." Conceit of our own deserts made us indifferent to the claims of one who had procured for us a perfect righteousness. " The whole need not a physician ; " and we felt insulted by the lan- m^ THE despisp:d friend. 21 (fuage of a gospel which spoke to us as undeserving be- ings. The Cross can have little power where pride con- ceals the necessity of a pardon ; a sacrifice is little valued when we are unconscious of our need thereof. In our own opinion we were once most noble creatures ; the Pharisee's oration would have sincerely enough emanated from us. A few little trifles there might be wdiich were not quite correct, but in the main we thought ourselves " rich and increased in goods ;" and even when under the powerful voice of law we were made to discern our pov- erty, we yet hoped by future obedience to reverse the sen • tence, and wcr-3 utterly unwilling to accept a salvation which requii'ed a renunciation of all merit and simple trust on the crucified Redeemer. Never until all the work of our hands had been unravelled, and our fingers themselves had become powerless, would we cease from our own labour, and leaving the spider's- web of man's doings, array our- selves in the garment of free justification. No man will ever think much of Christ till he thinks little of himself. The lower our own views of ourselves become, the higher will our thoughts of Jesus be raised ; and only when self- annihilation is complete will the Son of God be our " all in all." Vain glory and self-esteem are fruitful parents of evil. Chrysostom calls self-love one of the devil's three great nets ; and Bernard styles it " an arrow which pierceth the soul tlirough, and slays it ; a sly, insensible enemy, not perceived." Under the sad influence of this power we con- rnonly love him best who does us the most harm ; for the flatterer who feeds our vanity with pleasing cries of * Peace, peace," is far more regarded than that sincere friend, the blessed Jesus, who earnestly wp.i'ns us of our ill estate. But when self-confidence is lemoved — when bhe soul is stripped by conviction — when the light of the spirit reveals the loathsome state of the heart — when the power oi the creature fails, how precious is Jesus ! As 22 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. the drowning mariner clutelies the floating spar — as the dying man looks to some great physician — as the crimi- nal values his pardon, so do v hen esteem the deliverer of our souls as the Prince o. kings of the earth. Self- loathing begets an ardent passion for the gracious " lover of our souls," but self-complacency hides his glories from us. Love of the world has also its share in using this dear friend so ill. When he knocked at the door we refused him admittance, because another had already entered. We had each chosen another husband to whom we basely gave away our hearts. ** Give me wealth," said one. Jesus rei)lied, " Here am I ; I am better than the riches of Egy})t, and my rej>roa.ch is more to be desired than hid- den treasures." The answer was, " Thou art not the wealth that I seek for ; I pant not for an airy wealth like thine, O Jesus ? 1 do not care for a wealth above in the future — I desiie a wealth here in the present ; I want a treasure that I can grasp noiv ; I want gold that will buy me a house, a farm, and estate ; I long for the sparkling jewel that will adorn my fingers ; I ask thee not for that which is hereafter ; I will seek for that when years have passed away." Another of us cried, " I ask for health, for I am sick." The best Physician appears, and gently promises, " I will heal thy soul, take away thy leprosy, and make thee whole." " Nay, nay," we answered, " I ask not for that, O Jesus ! I ask to have a body that is strong, that I may run like Asahel or wrestle like an Hercules ; I long to be freed from pain of body, but I do not ask for health of soul, that is not what 1 require." A third implored for happiness. " Listen to me," said Jesus, " my ways are ways of pleasantness, and all my paths are peace." " Not the joy for which I sigh," we hastily replied ; " I ask the cup tilled to the brim, that I may drink it merrily ; I love the jovial evening, and the joyous day ; I want the dance. 1^1 THE DESPISED FRIEND. 2S the revelry, and other fair delights of this world ; give your hereafter to those who are enthusiasts — let them live on hope ; I i)refer this world and the present." Thus did we each in a different fashion set our affection on things Lelow, and despise the things above. Surely he \vas no ill painter who thus sketched us to the life with his graphic pencil: "The interpreter took them apart again, and had them into a room where there was a man that could look no-ways but downwards, with a muckrake in his hand ; there stood also one over his head with a celestial crown in his hand, and proffered Lim that crown for his muckrake; but the man did neither look up nor regard, but raked to himself the straws and dust lof the floor." While we love the world, " the love of the Father is I not in us ; "* nor the love of Jesus the son. Two masters I we cannot serve. The world and Jesus never will agree, I We must be able to sing the first portion of Madame iGuion's stanza before we can truly join in its concluding i words: ** Adieu ! ye vain delights of earth, Insipid sports, and childish mirth, I taste no sweets in you ; Unknown delights are m the Cross, All joy beside to me is dross ; And Jesus thought so too." It would be a great omission did we not observe that [our ignorance of Chrld was a main cause of our want of love towards him. We now see that to know Christ is [to love him. It is impossible to have a vision of his face, to behold his person, or understand his offices, without feeling our souls warmed towards him. Such is the beauty of our blessed Lord, that all men, save the spirit- ually blind, pay willing homage to Him. It needs no eloquence to set forth Christ to those who see him by • 1 Jolm ii. 16. I :l| ,'+ 24 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. faith, for in trutli he is his own orator ; his glory speaks his condescension spcaivs, his life speaks, and, above all, his death speaks ; and what these utter without sound, the heart receiveth willingly. Jesus is "curtained from the sight of the gross world" by the wilful unbelief of mankind, or else the sight of him would have begotten veneration for him. Men know not the gold which lies in the mine of Clirist Jesus, or surely they would dig in it niglii and day. They have not yet discovered the ])earl of great price, or they would have sold their all to buy the lield wherein it lies. Tlu; person of Christ strikes eloquence dumb when it would describe him ; it palsies the artist's arm when with fair colours he would portray him ; it would o'er-match the sculptor to carve his image even where it possible to chisel it in a massive block of diamond. There is nought in nature comparable to him. Before his radiance the bril- liance of the sun is dimmed ; yea, nothing can compete with him, and heaven itself blushes at its own plainness of countenance when his " altogether lovely " person is beheld. Ah, ye who pass him by without regard, it is well said by Rutherford, " Oh if ye knew him, and saw his beauty, your love, your heart, your desires, would cIom. with him and cleave to him. Love, by nature, when it seeth, cannot but cast out its spirit and strength up^m. amiable objects, and good things, and things love- worthy; and what fairer thing is there than Christ ? " TheOewisli world crucified him because they knew not their king , and we rejected him because we had not seen his adap- tation to our wants, and believed not the love he bore to our souls. We can all thus soliloquize with Augustine ;— " There was a great dark cloud of vanity before miiii eyes, so that I could not see the sun of justice and the light of truth , I, being the son of darkness, was involved in darkness ; I loved my darkness, because I knew not thy light J I was blind, and loved my blindness, and did^ #:■ THE DtSPISED FRIEND. 25 Lis glory speaks is, and, above all, r without sound, the gross world " else the sight ot him. Men know i Christ Jesus, or day. They have •ice, or they would n-ein it lies. Tlu' mb when it would n when with lair uld o'er-match the it possible to chisel :here is nought in s radiance the bril- thing can compete t its own plainness lovely" person is. mt regard,it iswell r him, and saw his lesires, would clo^^e 3y nature, when it , and strength upon :^ hino-s love- worthy; irist"?" TheOewisir lewnot their king; I not seen his adap- the love he bore to _, with Augustine ;- vanity before miiK of justice and the kness, was involved ecause I knew not blindness, and dw alk from daikness to darkness ; but Lord, thou art my K)d, who hast led me from darkness and the shadow of eath ; liast called me into this glorious light, and behold see." Those days of soul-eclipse are gone, but never can e too much bewail them. Sad were those hours when e morning-star shone not, when the cross had no charms, id the glorious Redeemer no esteem ; could tears obliter- e them from the annals of the past, our eyes should ipty their cisterns ere our cheeks should be dry — could ayers recall them, we would bcf^iege the throne with in- ssant supi>lications. They are gone, uhjo ! beyond the m of even omnipotence to restore them ; but we rejoice see their ini(|uity blotted out and their sin entirely vered. [The river of sinful neglect of Je^s lias doubtless other ibutary sources which we cannot now tarry to notice, mtemplation need not here wander in a maze, she hath )ath laid straight before her ; unchain her feet and bid [r conduct you over the field of memory, that with her |u may count the other rills wliicli fed this noxious team. [II. We come now to the practical part of our medita- i, and consider the emotions which ought to be excited ;it. i'irst, then, we think deep iienitential sorroiu will well Jome us. As tears are the lit moisture for the grave, i$^slies are a fit crown for the head of mourning, so are iitential feelings the proper mementoes of conduct now saken and abhorred. Wo cannot understand the chris- lity of those men who can narrate their past history th a kind of self-congratulution. We have met with le who will recount their former crimes with as much 5to as the old soldier tells his feats in arms. Such men " even blacken themselves to render their ca^e more B s. n -M Kr 26 TBE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. worthy of regard, and glory in their past sins as if they were ornaments to their new life. To such we say, Not thus thought Paul ; when speaking to the Romans, he said '* whereof ye are now ashamed." There are times when it is proper, beneficial, and praiseworthy for a convertLi] man to tell the sad tale of his former life ; free grace is thus glorified, and divine power extolled, and such a story of experience may serve to bring about faith in others who think themselves too vile ; but then let it be done in a light spirit, with expressions of unfeigned regret and re- pentance. We object not to the narration of the deeds of our unregencx^ate condition, but to the mode in which it is too often done. Let sin have its monument, but let it be a heap of stones cast by the hands of execration — not a mausoleum erected by the hand of aff'ection. Give it the burial of Absalom — let it not sleep in the sepulchre of the kings. Can we, beloved, enter the dark vault of our former ig- norance without a feeling of oppressive gloom ? Can we traverse the ruins of our misspent years without sighs of regret ? Can we behold the havoc of oar guilt, and smile at the destruction ? Nay. It is ours to bewail what wu cannot efface, and abhor what we cannot retract. O fellow-heir of the kingdom, let us go together to tlie throne of Jesus, that our tears may bathe his feet ; that, like Mary, we may make our grief a worshipper of his person. Let us seek soine alabaster-box of very pre- cious ointment wherewith to anoint him, or at any rate let our eyes supply a tribute of true gratitude. We ap- piioach his sacred person, and on his feet we see the im- press of his love deep-cut by the piercing nails. Come now, I'ly heart 1 bewail that wound, for thou didst make it ; the soldier was but thy servant who didst thy bidding but the cruel act was thine. Note well liis hands whieli firmly grasp thee ; they too have their scars ; and weep at the remembrance that these were made for thee. Fa 7I0UR. THE DESPISED FRIEND. 27 >ast sins as if they 3 such we say, Not he Romans, he said, 3re are times when thy for a converted e ; free grace is thus md such a story of aith in others who et it be done in a gned regret and re- rtion of the deeds of B mode in which it mument, but let it of execration — not affection. Give it ) in the sepulchre of It of our former in- e gloom ? Can we rs without sighs of »ar guilt, and smile to bewail what we ot retract, go together to tlie .he his feet ; that, a worshipper of ir-box of very pre- im, or at any rate ratitude. We ap- ect we see the ini- i\g nails. Come r thou didst make didst thy biddini; his hands whidi 5cars ; and weej) iii de for thee. Fa lee he bore the ignominy of the cross, the pain of crwci- Ixion. Turn not thine eyes away until the hole in the lide has been well pondered. See there that frightful fash, deep mine which reacheth to his heart. And this, ly soul, was done for thee ! dost thou not love the suf- jrer ? Yea, thou dost, with a love as deep and bottom- }ss as the ocean; but forget not that once thou didst des- [iso him. Many a time hast thou slighted this gracious riend ; thy husband was once hated by thee ; thy beloved las i>ften received contumel}^ and scorn from thee. Not |bng ago th( u didst mock, despise, and insult him. Hard irords hast thou spoken of him, and ill deeds liast thou 4oJie to him. His wooings tliou didst disregard, the ten- '^er offerings of love thou didst trample under foot, and Ihe deep anguish which he endured for thee was in thine ijars an idle tale. What! are the fountains dry? When ivill thy sorrow find better cause for coining itself in ||ears ? Canst thou afford a silly story of a love-sick maid a tear or two and shall not this — th^'self and Jesus — tnove thy soul ? He loved, and thou didst hate ; he died, yet thou didst scoff his agonies ; he saved thee, and yet thou didst refuse to be his child. O base ingratitude ! Clouds mightbe fit mourners to weep thee away in showers; but yet we are, oft hard as the granite rock, and cold as ^he mountain which storeth up its snow, which it might Well afford to lavish forth in rivers. We should long to Ibel the sweet pleasure of rei)entance, for indeed it is no common delight. Howe has excellently described the joy erf penitential grief in his " Delight in God : " — " There is pleasure mingled with such tears, and with those mournings which are not without hope, and which flow naturally and without force from a living principle within, as waters from their still freshly-springing foun- tain. When the soul finds itself unbound and set at (iberty, when it can freely pour out itself to God, dissolve Aindly and melt before him, it doth it with regret only r T I 28 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. at what it hath done and been, not at what it is now doing, except that it can do it no more ; aftecting even to be iniinite herein, while it yet sees it must be contined within some bounds. It loves to he in the dust and abase itself; and is pk-ascd with the humiliation, contrition, and biokenness of heart which lopentance towards God in- cludes in it. So that as Gotl is delighted with this saciiHte^so it is with the ofiering of it up to him. Many men apprehend a certain sweetness in revenge ; such a one linds it only in this just revenge upon himself. How inexpressible a pleasure accouipanies its devoting itself to God, when benjuwning itself, and returning with weep- ing and su}>plic;ition, it says, ' Now, lo ! I come to thee, thou art the Lord my God, 1 have brought thee back thine own, what I had sacrilegiously alienated and stolen away, the heart which was gone astray, that hath been so long a vagabond and fugitive from thy blessed presence, service, and communion. Take now the soul which thou liast made; possess thine own right; enter upon it; stamp it with the entire impression of thine own seal, and mark it for thine. Other lords shall no more have dominion, What have I to do any more with the idols wheiewith I was wont to provoke thee to jealousy ? I will now make mention of thy name, and of thine only. 1 bind mystdl to thee in everlasting bonds, in a covenant never to be forgotten.' " Let not a libation of tears be the only ofliering at the shrine of Jesus; let us also rejoice luitkjoy iinspeakuhu'. If we have need to lament our sin, how much more to rejoice at our pardon ! If our previous state moves us lu Kars, shall not our new condition cause our hearts to leap for joy ? Yes, we must, we wi^l praise the Lord for his sovereign, distinguishing g)ace. We owe him an eternal song for this change in our position; he has nuide us lu differ, and this from mere unmerited mercy, since we, liki' others/' esteemed him not." He certainly did not elect 7I0UR. THE DESPISED FRIEND. 29 at what it is now I ; afl'ecting even to t must be confined the dust and abase ion, contrition, and e towards God in- jlighted with this up to him. Many 1 revenge ; such a )on himself. How its devoting itself urning with weep- o ! I come to thee, ;lit thee back thine d and stolen away, hath been so long d presence, service, which thou hast upon it ; stamp it rvn seal, and mark re have dominion. idols wheiewith I I will now mako y. 1 bind myself eiiant nevxr to be \y ofl[ering at the )W much more to state moves us to our hearts to lea|i the Lord for his ^e him an eternal e has made us t iMMml mmnia. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend." — Pnov. xxvii. G. M.[ t 1 '.' 1 ■ i ^' \ *^ ; t &'' I , f^ ^ ^;'i I ■I! HE death in sin, which we so much lament- ed in the last chapter, is now hap]:)ily a thing of the past with us. Divine grace has quick- ened us ; heavenly influence has ])veserved us; and faitliful promises have secured our spirit- immortality. It is now our delightful duty to adore the love v/hieh, even when we were dead in sins, was still planning deeds of kindness towards us ; and which in its own appointed time enlisted Om- nipotence in our behalf, whereby we received life from the dead. In order to raise our hearts heavenward, and tune our lips to the psalmody of praise, let us, by the Spirit's graA- ious assistance, review the way whereby the Lord led us» to himself. Like ourselves, many of our readers will ad- mit that the first they ever knew of Jesus was in the cha- racter of a faithful friend wounding us for sin. Though at that time we knew not that love was mixed with everi^ blow, yet now we perceive it to have been the kind pla» of a gracious Saviour to bring us to himself. The Roman emperor conferred freedom on a slave by smiting him o^ FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 85 tov, xxvii. 6. 3 much lament- happily a thing p-ace has quick- as preserved us; ured our spirit- ghtful duty to ve were dead in indness towards le enlisted Om- ^ed life from the d, and tune our le Spirit's graA- he Lord led na eaders will ad- was in the cha- r sin. Though xedwith everts the kind pla» f. The Roman smitijQg him o^ tlie car; and Jesus sets us at liberty by a blow upon our heart. , I. We shall dwell first upon the fact that all saved jin'-'e Lamiis, lib. iii. c. 7. t Deut. xxviii. 65, 66 ■M1^- I ? } 40 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. And what I only heard before, I found, by sad experience, true, ** Oh ! what a dismal state was this, What horrors shook my feeble frame ! But, brethren, surely you can guess, For you, perhaps, have felt the same." Doubtless some of our readers will oy out .against such a description as being too harsh ; our only answer is, we have i'clt these things in a measure, and we testily what we do know. We do not for one moment teacli that all or tliat many are thus led in a path strewn with horrors, and shrouded in gloom , but we hope to be ac- knowledged, by those who have experienced the same, to have uttered no strange thing, but the simple tale, unex- aggerated and unadorned. We need no better evidences to convince all Christian n\en cf our truthiVdness than those with which our own pastorate has furnished us. Many have we seen in this condition ; and we hope that not a few have been, by our instrumentality, led into the lib- berty wherewith Christ makes men free. Such terrible things are not necessary to true repen- tance, but they do at times accompany it. Let the man who is now floundering in the slough of Despond take heart, for the slough lieth right in the middle of the wav, and the best pilgrims have fallen into it. Your case, (J soul under spiritual distress, is by no means singular ; ami if it were so, it would Mot be necessarily desperate, for Omnipotence knoweth nothing of impossibilities, and grace stayeth not for our demerits. A dark cloud is no sign that the sun has lost his light ; and dark black con- victions are no arguments that God has laid aside his mercy. Destruction and wrath may thunder, but mercy can speak louder than both. One word from our Lord can still the ^\■aves and winds. Get thee beneath the tree of life, and not a drop of the shower of wrath will fall on thee. Fear not to go, for the cherubims which [OUR. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 41 Lime ! s, siinie. » [ cry out against our only au.swur re, and wc testily lie moment teac-ii path strewn witli we hope to be ac- incecl the same, to simple tale, unex- j better evidences li'ulness than those lished us. Many e ho[)e that not a led into the lib- y to true rcpen- ft. Let the man of Despond take iddle of the way, t. Your case, (J lis singular ; and y desperate, for possibilities, and [dark cloud is no dark black con- :is laid aside iii.s [nder, but mercy from our Lord ee beneath the r of wrath will lerubims which you see are not guards to prevent your approach, but [ministers who will welcome your coming. Oh ! sit not [down in sullen despair, harden not thine heart, for it is a (friend that wounds thee. He has softened thee in the [furnace ; he is now welding thee with his hammer. JLct him slay thee, but do thou still trust in him. If ho lad meant to destroy thee, he would not have showed thee [sucli things as these: love is in his heart when chiding is [on his lips ; yea, his very words of reproof are so many r tokens for good." A father will not lift his hand against mother man's child, but he exercises discipline upon his own ; even so the Lord your God chastens his own, but reserveth retribution for the children of wrath in another state of being. Bethink thee, also, that it is no small mercy to feel thy sin ; this proves that there is no morti- fication in thy frame, but life is there. To feel is an e v'l- dence of life ; and spiritual sorrow is a clear ])roof of life in the soul. Moreover, there are thousands who would give worlds to be in the same condition as thou ,rt ; they are grieving because they do not have those [very feelings which are in thy case thy burden and plague. Multitudes envy thee thy groans, thy tears land meltings ; yea, some advanced saints look at t"'iee sSps'ith admiration, and wish that their hearts were as ■'tender as tliine. Oh ! take coura^'o ; the rouirh usaofe of •to-day is an onrnest of loving dealing by-and-bye. It is in this manner the shecj) is brought into the fold by the .barking of the dog ; and in this fashion the ship is corn- el led by the storm to make for the nearest haven, l^ly Jesus, and believe his OTace. 3. A portion of the redeemed have had this season of "wounding protracted for a long time. It was not one • lieavy fall of tlie lod, but stroke after stroke, repeated for months, and even years, in continual succession. John .Bunyan was for many years an anxious and desponding seeker of mercy ; and thousands more have trodden the c k t ' 1 1. I i t '!• » ■ ?■ 'l > i 1 .i , i i 1 I 42 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. valley of darkness for as long a time. Winters are not , usually long in our favoured cliuie, but some years have seen the earth covered with snow and fettered in ice for many a dreary month ; so also many souls are soon cheered by the light of God's countenaiice, but a few find, to their own sorrow, that at times the promise tarries. When the sun sets we usually see him in the morning; but Paul, when in a tempest at sea, saw neither sun, moon, nor stars, for three days : many a tried soul hath been longer than this in finding light. All ships do not make speedy voy- ages : the peculiar build of the vessel, the winds, the waves, and the mistakes of the captain, all affect the time of the journey. Some seeds send forth their germs in a few days ; others abide long in darkness, hidden under the clods. The Lord can, when it is his good pleasure, send conviction and comfort as rapidly in succession as the flash of lightning and the clap of thunder ; but at times he delays it for pur[)oses which, though we know not now, we shall know liereafter. Men shall not have an Easter until they l)ave had Lent ; but God's Lents are not all of the same duration. Let none, then, foolishlj^ imagine that they have entered a lono lane which will have iiu turning ; let them consider how long they were in sin, and they will have little cause to complain that they are so long in humiliation. When they remember their own ignorance, they will not think thoy are detained too long in the school of penitence. No man has any right to murmur because he is waiting a little for the King ot mercy ; for if he considereth what he waits for, he will see it to be well worthy of a thousand years' delay. Cloil may say, " To-day if ye will hear TYiy voice ; " but thou, sinner, hast no right to demand that he should hear thine at all, much less to-day. Great men often have T)eiitioners in their halls, who will wait for hours, ami come again and again to obtain promotion : surely, the God of heaven should be waited for by them that seek f lOUR. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 43 Winters are not I t so?^ie years haveS fettered in ice for Lils are soon cheercfl a few tind, to their tarries. When tin lorning; but Paul, ;un, moon, nor stais h been longer thaii , make speedy voy- el, the winds, tlie 1, all affect the time h their germs in a less, hidden under his good pleasuiv, y in succession as under ; but at times Ugh we know not shall not have an God's Lents are not , foolishl}'- imagine lich will have no they were in sii\ [:)lain that they are member their own detained too loni! has any right to for the King ot vaits for, he will ears' delay. Goil oice;" but thou, t he should hear men often have t for hours, ami tion : surely, the them that seek im. Thrice happy is he that getteth an early interview, id doubly blest is he who getteth one at all. Yet it L's at times seem hard to stand at a door which opens. )t to repeated knocking — " hope deferred maketh the jait sick : " and it may be, some reader of this volume [driven to doubt the eventual result of his strivings and payers ; he may be crying, " My life is spent with grief, k1 my years with sighing." " Hosv oft have these b:ire knees been bent to gain The slender alms of one poor smile in vain ? How often tir'd with the fastidious light Have my faint lips implor'd the shades of night i How often have my nightly torments pray'd For ling'ring twilight, glutted with the shade 1 Day worse than night, night worse than day appears : In fears I spend my nights, my days in tears ; % I moan uii pitied, groan without relief, There is no end or measure of my grief. The branded slave, that tugs the weary oar, Obtains the Sabbath of a welcome shore ; His ransom'd stripes are heal'd ; his native soil Sweetens the mem'ry of his foreign toil ; But ah ! my sorrows are not half so blest ; My labours find no point, my pains no rest : I barter sighs for tears, and tears for groans, Still vainly rolling Sisyphaean stones." Oease thy complaint, O mourner, the angel is on his way, and faith shall quicken his flight ; while thou art yet ' ing he hears, yea, before thou callest again, he answer thee. Divine sovereignty displays itself in the manner reby souls are brought to Jesus; for while many, as e have said, are smitten with deep wounds, there are pi|haps a larger number whose smartings are less severe, bM. their su tiering /ar less acute. Let us never make B|K>logies for the superficial religion too common in the p^serrt day ; above aU, let us never lead others to mis- time fancies for r-ealities, and evanescent feelin^js for en- ma 44 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 1' H ! ; •! ' ■,■■! 1 u h m dining workings of grace. We fear that too many arc del iudecl with a false religion, wliich will be utterly consiniKij when the fire shall try all things ; and we solemnly wairi oui" readers to rest short of nothing less than a real e.xl perience of grace within, true repentance, deep selfj abhorrence, and complete subjection to salvation by giacJ Yet wo do believe and know that some of the Lordi family are, by his marvellous kindness, exempted from thj exceeding rigour of the terror/i of Sinai, and the exceJ sive griefs engendered by the working of the Law. Goj openeth many hearts with gentle picklocks, while "witll others he useth the crow-bar of terrible judgments. TIk wind of the Spirit, which bloweth tuhoe ii; listeth, akj bloweth how it pleaseth ; it is oftentimes a gentle oal- not cilways a hurricane. When the lofty palm of Zeil;; putteth forth its flower, the sheaths burst with a repoi> which shakes the forest, but thousands of other floweiM equal value open in the morning, and the very dew-dvo] hear no sound ; so many souls blossom in mercy, an - the world hears neither whirlwind nor tempest. Slio« > ers frequently fall upon this earth too gently to be liLai though truly at other seasons the rattling drops pioclaii them; grace also "droppeth, like the gentle dew fiui heaven," on souls whom Jesus wouki favour, and the know nothing of heavy hail and drenching toi-rents. Let none doubt their calling because it came not w'v sound of the trum))et; let them not sit down to measu; their own feelings by those of other men, and because tlu are not precisely the same, at once conclude that they a: no children of the kingdom. No two leaves upon a ti ce a precisely alike — vai'iety is the rule of nature; the lino beauty runs not in one undeviating course ; and in ^i;. the same rule holds good. Do not, therefore, desire a other man's repentance, or thy brother's ap])rehensi()ns Wrath. Be not wishful to try the depth of the cavern misery, but rather rejoice that* thou hast a partial inim ^.VJOUR. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 45 dty fVom its glooms. Be concerned to flee for refuge to fesus; but ask not that the avenger of blood may alm(jst ^ortake thee. Be content to enter the ark like a sheep jd by its shepherd; desire to come not like an unruly uUock, which must be driven to the door with stri[)es. idore the powder w^hich is not bound down to a unity of lethod, but which can open the eye by the clay and )itt!e or by the simple- touch of the finger. Jesus cried, Kth a loud voice, "Lazarus come forth !" but the restor- fion was as easily effected when he gently said, " Maid, ise." Zaccheus was called from the tree with a voice lat the crowd cculd hear ; but it was a still voice which the garden said " Mary !" Can any man say but that lual benefits flowed from these varied voices 1 It is rogance for any man to map out the path of the Eternal, dictate to Jesus the methods of his mercy. Let us be con- it with ggntle wounds, and let us not seek heavy blows a proof of his faithfulness. iMuch more might have been discoursed concerning the ans used by Providence to break the hard heart. Be- vemeui disappointment, sickness, poverty, have had ir share of uses ; the Word preached. Scriptures read reproofs received, have all been owned to conversion. Jwould be interesting to register the diverse ways of ovah's doings with sinners ; and it w^ould be found a Vj^uable occupation for a gathering of Christians in an ©i^i^ning party, if the question is passed round to each, altd one acts as recorder for the rest; thus interesting in- ^f#m;ition may be obtained, and unprofitable talkin'T^ "Mpided. \JI. We now seek to justify our assertion that thest n(h are inflided hy " ike friend^' Christ Jesus. Our lers will observe that Jesus' name has not often oc- pth of the cavern ^Hri"^*! in the course of this chapter, but this lias had itH lat too many arc de be utterly consuni id we solemnly wairj less than a real e.\ pentance, deep self^ bo salvation by gi-act some of the Lord' 5S, exempted from tli iinai, and the exee.< pgof the Law. Go iicklocks, while ^vit} .ble judgments. Ti wheie \i, listeth, ak n times a gentle oal-, lofty palm of Zeilai i burst with a repo ids of other flowers oi d the very dew-drop ssom in mercy, am nor tempest. Sliow' )o gently to be liear:4;| ttling drops proclaii the gentle dew froi ikl favour, and the ching torrents. ise it came not w'v sit down to measii: len, and because tlii nclude that they a: lleavesuponatveea If nature; the line ourse; and in ^.'li. therefore, desire a: r's ap])rehensi()ns hast a partial inim ons ; in order that our words might be somewhat ir m THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. t n I 1^ accordance with the state of the soul during the operation! of conviction, for then it discerns not Jesus, and knowsj noticing of his love. A faint -idea of his saving power may arise, but it is only the hush between the succeeding gusts of wind. There is an atonement, but the tried conscience icjoicos not therein, since the blood has never been applied : HE is able to save unto the uttermost, Ijut since the man has not come unto God by him, he as yet participates not in the salvation. Nevertheless, an un- seen Jesus is a true Jesus ; anel when we see him not, he is none the less present, w^orking all our works in m. We would insip.t strongly on this point, because a very larofe number of mourninn: sinners ascribe their soirowto any source but the right one. 1. — We know thoseat present in theprison-house of con- viction who believe themselves to be tormented by tin devil, and ere haunted by the dreadful thought that hei^ about to devour them, since hell seems to have begun in : their souls. May the sacred Comforter rendei our woiiL profitable to a heart so exercised. It is not an evil one; who convinces the soul of sin, although the troubleii spirit is prone to impute itsarousings to the raachination- of the devil. It is never the policy of the Prince o: darkness to disturb his subjects ; he labours to make theri: self-satisiicd and content with their position; spiritua uneasiness he looks upon with most crafty suspicion since he sees therein the cause of desertion from his evi army. We do not assert that ncme of the terrors whici accompany conviction are the works of the devil, for v believe they are ; but we maintain that the inward div turbance which originates the commotion is a work oi love — a deed of divine compassion, and comes from ii' other fountain than eternal affection. The dust wdiii surrounds the chariot may arise from beneath, but tli chariot itseilf is paved with the love of heaven. Tl. doubts, tlic despairings, and the hellish api)rehensioii VIOUR. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 47 luring the operation J Jesus, and knows !" his saving power vcenthe succeedini.' ent, hut the tried he blood has never othe uttermost, hut by him, he as yet evertheless, an un- we see him not, In our works in m. nt, because a ven| ;ribe their sorrow to i iprison-house of ecu- J I tormented by the| d thought that he \i :| IS to have begun in 1 er rendei our wovd^ M is not an evil one i ou2:h the trouble! to the machination r of the Prince o d)ours to make then position ; spiritua t crafty suspicion eition from his evi :' the terrors whic! f the devil, for v |at the inward d\>. tion is a work o nd comes from ii The dust wliie' beneath, but tli ►'c of heaven. Tl. lish apprehension may be the work of Diabolus, but the real attack is headed by Emmanuel, and it is from very fear that the true assault may be successful that Satan attempts another. Jesus sends an army to drive us to himself, and then the prince of the powers of the air dispatches a host to cut off our retreat to Calvary. So harassed is the mind vrllen thus bcseiged, that like the Avai-riors in old Troy, it mistakes friends for foes, not knowing how to dis- cern tliem in the darkness and confusion. Let us labour a moment to point out the helmet of Jesus in the battle that his blows may be distinguished from those of a cruel one. The experience which avc have pictured leads us to ab- hor sin. Can Satan be the author of this ? Is he become a lover of purity, or can an unclean spirit be the father of such a godly feeling ? An adept in sin himself, will he seek to reveal its vileness ? If indeed it delights him to see a soul unha])py here, would he not far rather allow a present bliss, in the malicious prospect of a certain future woe for his victim ? We believe Satan to be exceedingly wise, but he would be penny wise and pound foolish if " e should inflict a tempo a y torment on the sinner here, nd so by his over haste l>se his great object of ruining .he man for ever. Devils may drive swine down a steep lace into the eea: but they never influenced swine to moan their ccndit )n, and beg to be made sheep. Satan ight carry Jesus to a pinnacle of the Temple to tempt im ; but he never carried a publican to tl e house of prayer to smite on his breast and cry, "God le merciful to me a sinnsr! Nothinor which leads to Jesus can be of I; Cj ihe Evil One, by this we may judge whether our inward Itrouble be of God or no. That which draws us to Jesus ath something of Jesus in it : the waggons which fetch 'tis to our Joseph may have rinnbling wheels, but the}^ are ient by Him. Wlien our enemy cannot hinder the voice f God from being heard in the heart, he min«deth there- 48 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. I I 1 - I with such horrid yellings and howlini^s that the coming sinner is in doubt whether the voice comes from heaven or hell ; howbeit, the question may be answered in tliis manner — if it be a harsh, reproving voice which is heard, then Siitan ia angry, and is but counterfeiting, to prevent the word of olod from having effect ; but if it be a swe^^t voice seeking to draw the soul from an earnest aad thor- ough repentance, then it cometh wholly from hell. siimer, let a friend warn thee of the syren -song of a smil- ing devil — it will be thine eternal shipwreck if thou (los:t not seal thine ears, and neglect hisenc'ianiing music; but on the other hand, be not afraid of the devil when lie howleth like a Cerberus, for thus doth he seek to affright thee from the gate of heaven ; stay not for him, but be firmly persuaded that the inward goad which urges thee forward is in the hand of Jesus, who desires to hasten thee to the house of refuge which he has builded. Do not think that thy sharp pains are given thee by the old mur- derer, for they are the effects of the knife of " the beloved Physician." Many a mr.u under a surgical operation cries out as if he were about to be killed; but *f patience had its perfect work, he would look to the ena more than to the means. It is hard indeed to rejoice under the heavy hand of a chastising Jesus ; but it will be somewhat easier to thee if thou bearest in mind that Jesus, and not the devil, is now smiting thee for thy sins. 2. Very common also are the cases where the genuine- ness of conviction is doubted, because it is conceived to be merely an awakened conscience, and not the real lasting work of Jesus by his Holy Spirit. Well may this cause anxiety, if we reflect that the mere awakenings of con- science so often prove to be of no avail. How many reformations have been commenced by the command of conscience, and have soon crumbled beneath temptation like an edifice of sand at the approach of the sea ! How- many prayers have been forced forth like untimely figs by OUR. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 49 I that the coining mes from heaven answered in tliis ze which is heard, 'citing, to prevent it if it be a swe«'t earnest a ad thoi' lly from Loll. en -song of a smil- v^reck if thou doKt anting music; biii lie devil when lie le seek to affright j for him, but be which urges thee desires to hasten builded. Do not e by the old mur- :e of "the beloved cal operation cries it "f patience had ena more than to under the heavy 3 somewhat easier esus, and not the lere the genuine- Is conceived to be \t the real lastinij may this cause wakenings of con- |ail. How many the command (;f heath temptation V the sea ! How I untimely figs by the warmth of a little natural feeling! but such prayers have been displaced by the old language of indifference or iniquity. It is but just, therefore, that the anxious inquirer should very honestly examine his feelings whe- ther they liO of God. Conscience is that portion of the soul upon which the Spirit works in convincing of sin ; but conscience cannot of itself produce such a real deatn to sin as must be the experience of every Christian. It may, whcii stirred up by a powerful sermon or a solemn providence, alarm the whole town of Man-soul ; but the bursting of the gates, and the breaking of the bars of iron must come fi'om an- other hand. Natural confidence may he distinguished from super- natural grace by its being far more easily ap^.aafied. A ; small sop will suffice to stop the mouth of a conscience which, with all its boasted impartiality, is yet as truly depraved as any other portion of the man. We marvel [at the Christian minister when he speaks of conscience as jj* God's vicegerent," styling it the judge who cannot be )ribed, whereas the slightest observation would suffice to *convince any man of the corruption of the conscience. "How many commit acts with allownncc which are gross .liins, but concerning v/hich their unenlightened conscience /^tters no threat; and even when this |)artial censor does .pronounce sentence of condonuiation, how easily will the * l^ightest promise of reformation avert his wrath, and in- "-'^uce him to palliate the sin ! F Conscience, when thoroughly aroused, will speak with Sundering voice ; but even his voice cannot wake the 'Clead — spiritual resurrection is the work of Deity alone. We have seen men swept with a very tornado of terrible thoughts and serious emotions; but the hot wind has 'passed away in an hour, and has left no blessing behind it. There is no healing beneath the wings of a merely btural repentance, and its worthlessness may be proved by its transitory existence. 50 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. I: i iM m Conscience will be content with reformation ; true giaca will never rest till it leceives a knowledge of regenera- tion. Let us each be anxious to be possessors of nothing short of a leal inwrought sori'ow for sin, a deep sense of natural depravity, a tiue fai^h in the Lord Jesus, and ac- tual possession of his Spirit ; whatever is short of thi<^ lacks the vitnl elements of religion. Ifsucli is our fell- ing now — if we now pant for Jesus in all his glorious offices to be ours forevei, we need not fear but that He lias wounded us in love, and is bringing us to his feet. If we now feel that nothing but the blood and i-ighteousncss of Christ Jesus can supply the wants we deplore, we may rejoice that grace has entered our heart, and will win the victory. A soul under the influence of the Holy Ghost will be in- satiable in its longings for a Saviour; you might as well attempt to fill a ship with honour, or a house with water, as a truly em])tied soul with aught save the Lord Jesus. Is thy soul hungering with such a hunger that husks will not content thee? Art tliou thirsting until "thy tongue cleaveth to thy mouth" for the living water of life ? Dost i thou abhor all counterfeits, and look only for the good | gold of the kingdom ? Art thou determined to have Christ or die ? Will nothing less than Jesus allay thy fears? Then be of good cheer; arise, 77e call eth thee: cry unto him, and he will assuredly hear. i Again, tue think an excclletit test may he found in tit lengtk of time these feelings have endured. The awaken- ings of an unrenewed conscience soon pass away, and are not usually pe)'manent in their character. Arising in a night, they ])erish also in anight. They are acute pains, but not chronic ; they are not a ])art of the man, but siui-i ply incidents in his history. Many a man drops the com- pliment of a tear when justice is at work with him; but! wiping that tear awaN% sunshine follows the sliower, and all is over. Ilast thou, my reader, been a seeker of the Lord for a very little while ? I beseech thee take it not lOUR. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 51 "nation ; true giao.i ledge of regcncra- jscs^ors of nothiii;;- in, a deep sense of jord Jesus, and i\c- ' is short of thi [f such is our fei 1- in all his glorioih HV but that He has his feet. If we now teousness of Christ re, we may rejoice ill win the victoiv. ' Ghost will be iii- you niio-ht as well house with watei, YQ the Lord Jesus, ^er that husks will until "thy tongui' ater of life ? Dost only for the good termined to have Jesus allay thy lie calleth thee: 1 ir k y he found in t '(]. The awaken- ass away, and are er. Arising in a y are acute pains, :,hc man, but sini- an drops the com- k with him; but s the shower, and a seeker of the thee take it not for oTpnfed 'hat thou aro under the influence of the Spirit, but plead wi^h God that thine own instability may not a csh be manifest in ai:^ain forgetting what manner of man thou art. O ye whose momentary warmth is but as the crackling of bla/ing thorns, this is not the fire from lieaven ; for that glorious flame is as eternal as its origin, b(;in«»- sustained by Omnipotence. Oh ye Pliables, who turn back at the fl'st difiicult}'', crowns and kingdoms in the reahns of the blessed are not intended for such as you ? Unstable as water, ye shall not excel ! Your lying vows have been so often heard in heaven, that justice frowns ii))onyou. How have ye lied unto God, when ye have promised in the hour of sickness to turn to him with full purpose of heart ? How will your violated promises be swift witnesses to condemn you, when God shall fetch from the archives of the past the memorials of your ti-ea- chery ! What can be more worthy of your solemn consideration than the words of Solomon — '• He that being often re- proved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that ivithout remedy"* It will go hard with some of 3'ou, my readers, who have aboimded with hypocritical repentances when the Lord shall biing you into judg- ment. Ye have no excuse of ignorance ; ye cannot cloak your guilt with darkness; " ye knewyour duty, but ye did it not." You vowed iu deceit ; you prayed in mockery ; yon promised with falsehood. Surely, your own lips will say "Amen!" to the anathema which shall call you " cursed," and the chambers of your memoiy will, from their sin-stained walls, re-^erbei'ate the sentence, "Cursed! cursed ! cursed ! " But has the penitent reader been under the hand of God for some time? Have his impressions been abiding? Do they bring forth the fruits of real longing after Jesus? Then let him be of good cheer. The river which drieth *rrov. xniK. 1. 1)2 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. : i-: not is the river of God; tho li^i^lithouso Avliich eiidiii-otli the "sviuds and waves is fo'n, iio doubt tlie con- 1 glory and honour aker, the Healer, | imstances of thei ve cause to doubt I 'hich are felt. hP prospect of deatl^ luine, godly sor- en misled by it, lifany have we seen and heard of who have expressed the deepest contrition for past guilt, and have vehement- ly cried for mercy, witli promises of amendment apparent- ly as sincere as their confessions were truthful — who have conversed sweetly of pardon, of joy in the Spirit, and have even related ecstacies and marvellous manifestations ; and yet, with all this, have proved to be hyp(,crites, by return- ino- at the first opportunity to their old courses of sin and folly. It hath happened unto them according to the pro- verb, " The dog hath returned to his vomit, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire." Pious Mr. Booth writes, " I pay more attention to peo- ple's lives than to their deaths. In all the visits I have paid to the sick during the course of a long ministry, I never met with one, who was not previously serious, that ever recovered from what he supposed the brink of death, who afterwards performed his vows and became religious, notwithstanding the very great apjiearance there was in their favour when they thought they could not i-ecover.'* We find also, ready to our hand, in a valuable work,* the following facts, which are but specimens of a mass which might be given : — "A certain American physician, whose piety led him to attend, not only to people's bodies, but to their souls, stated that he had known a hundred or more instances in his practice, of persons Avho, in prospect of death, had been apparently converted, but hud, subse- (piently, been restored to health. Out of them all he did not know of more than three who devoted themselves to the service of Christ after their recovery, or gave any evi- dence of genuine conversion. If, therefore, they had died, as th^y expected, have we not reason to believe that theb* hopes cf heaven would have proved teriible delusions ? " A pious English physician once stated that he had known some three hundred sick persons who, soon ex- [)ecting to die, had been led, as they supposed, to repent- * Arvine's Cyclopredia of Anecdotes. 60 THE SA.INT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ance of their sins, and saving faith in Christ, but hud eventually been restored to health again. Only ten ol all tliis number, so far as he knew, gave any evidence ol being really regenerated. Soon after their recovery they plunged, as a general thing, into the follies and vices oi the world* Who would trust, then, in such conversions V Such examples serve as a holy warmng to us all, lest ^ve too should only feel an excitement produced by terror, anc should find the flame of piety utterly quenched when tlic cause of alarm is withdrawn. Some of us can trace oui liist serious thoughts to the bed of sickness, when in tlu loneliness of our chamber, " we thought upon our ways and turned our feet unto his testimonies."* But this verj' circumstance was at the time a source of doubt, for we ,_aid within ourselves, " Will this continue when my sick- ness is removed, or shall I not find my apathy return, wher ao-ain I enter on the business of the world i " Our crreat anxiety was not lest we should die, but lest living we should find our holy feelings clear gone, and our piet} evaporated. Possibly our reader is now sick, and this i; his trouble : let us help you through it. Of course, the best proof you can have, of your own sincerity is that which 5"ou will receive when health returns, if you con- tinue steadfast in the faith of Jesus, and foUov/ on tc know him. Perseverance, when the pressure is removed will discover the reality of your repentance. The na- tural wounds inflicted by Providence are healed soon aftei the removal of the rod, and folly is not thereby brought out of the heart ; but when Jesus smites for sin, the wounds wall smart even when the instrumental rod ol correction is removed, while " the blueness of the wounfJ cleanseth away evil."^ We, who had many mock repent- ances ere we really turned to the living God, can now see tlie main spring of our error. Every thief loves honesty when he finds the jail uneasy ; almost every murderer *Prov. cix. 59. fProv.xx. 30. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. Gl Iwill rej^iet that he slew a man when he is about to be ex- jcutedfor his crime : hei"e is the first point of distinction wliich we beg our reader to observe. That repentance ichich is r/enuhie ariscfh not so much troiiKh'eoxl ofpiini'^hinent as from fear of sin. It is not fear )t* (laniiung, but fear of sinning.which make the tuidy hum- )lcd cry out for grace. True, the fear of hell, engendered ly the threatenings of the law, doth work in the soul much horror and dismay ; but it is not hell appearing ex- jeedin'i" dr&tdful, but sin becoming exceeding sinfal and iboiuinable, which is the effectual work of grace. Any man in his reason would tremble at everlasting burnings, more js))ecially when by his nearness to the grave the heat of lell ur>th, as it were, scorch him ; but it is not every dying nan tl at hates sin — yea, none do so unless the Lord hath lad dealings with their souls. Say then. Dost thou hate lell or hate sin most ? for, verily, if there were no hell, the real ])enitent would love sin not one wit the more, md hate evil not one particle the less. WouJdest thou [ove to have thy sin and heaven too ? If thou wouldest, bliou hast not a single spark of divine life in thy sorJ, for )ne spark would consume thy love to sin. Sin to a sin- jick soul is so desperate an evil that it would scarce bo ^training the truth to say that a real penitent had rather nifi'er the pains of hell without his sins than enter the )]i8s of heaven with them, if such things were possible. Tui, sin, SIN, is the accursed thing which the living soul lateth. Again : saving repentance luill most easily manifest itself ivhen the subjects of our thoucfhts are most hcavi'ahj. Jy this we mean, if our sorrow only gushes fortli when ^e are musing upon the doom of the Avicked, and the ^'ath of God, we have then reason to suspect its evangel- ical character ; but if contemplations of Jesus, of his cross, )f heaven, of eternal love, of covenant grace, of pardoning )luod and full redemption bring tears to our eyes, we may 62 THb «Aij^T AND HIS SAVIOUR. :i then rejoice tliat we son'ow after a godly sort. Tlie sin- ner awalvened by tlie Holy Spirit will find the source of his stream of ecrrow not on the thorn-clad sides of Sinai, but on the grassy mound of Calvary. His cry will l>e, " O sin I hate thee, for thou didst murder my Lord ; " and his mourrft'ul dirge over his crucitied redeemer will be in plaintive words — " Twr"' ''Oil, -Tiy sins, my cruel sin8, Ui3 chief torviientors were ; Each of my crimes bee. mo a nail, And unbelief the spear ; 'Twas you ihai pull'd the vergeunco down Upon his guiltless head ; I3rt.ik, break, my heart, oh burst mine eyes, And let my sorrort'S bleed." Ye who love the Lord, give your assent to this our declaration, that love did melt you more than wrath, that the wooinnf voice d.id more atl'ect vou than the condenni- ing sentence, and that hope did impel you more than fear. It was when viewing our Lord as crucitied, dead, and buried that we most wept. He with Ids looks made us weep bitterly, while the stern face of Moses caused us to tremWe, but never laid us prostrate confessing our trans- o-ression. We sorrow because our offence is ao*ainst7//))L against his love, his'blood, his grace, his heart of affection. Jesus is the name which subdues the stubborn heart, if it be truly brought into subjection to the Gospel. He is the rod which bringeth waters out of the rock, he is the hammer which breaketh the rock in pieces. Furthermore, savuig reiientance will render the con- science exceedingly tender, so that it will he pained to the quick at the very recollection of the smallest sin. Natural I'epentance crieth out at a few master-sins, which have been most glaring and heinous — the more especially if some visitor point ^hem out as crimes of the blackest dye; FATTIIFQL WOUNDS. C3 Lilt when it liath executed one or two of these on the (nillows of confession, it is content to let whole hosts of kiss notorious offenders esca])e without so much as a rep- rimand. Not so the man whose penitence is of divine (),.jfrin — he hates the whole race of the Evil One ; like Elijah he will cry, " Let none escape ; " he v»'ill cut up to the best of his power every root of bitterness which may still remain, nor will he willingly harbour a single traitor ill his breast. The secret sins, the every-day otfences, the sli.'ht errors (as the world has it), the harndcss follies, the little transgressions, the peccadilloes, all these will be dragged forth to death when the Lord searchcth the heart with the candle of his Spirit. Jesus never enters the soul of man to drive out one or two sins, nor even to overcome a band of vices to the ex- ception of others ; his work is pei feet, not partinl ; his eleansings are complete baptisms ; his purifyings tend to remove all our dross, and consume all our tin. He sweeps the heart from its dust as w^ell as its Dagons ; he suffers not even the most insignificant spider of lust to spin its cobweb, with allowance, on the walls of his temple. All heinous sins and private sins, youthful sins and manhood's sins, sins of omission and of commission, of word and of (Iced, of thought and of imagination, sins against God or against man, all will combine like a column of serpents in the desert to aHright the new-born child of heaven ; and he will desire to see the head of every one of them broken beneath the heel of the destroyer of evil, Jesus, the seed of the woman. Believe not thyself to be truly dwakened lest thou abhorrest sin in all its stages, from the embryo to the ripe fruit, and in all its shades, from the commonly allowed lust dov/n to the open and detested crime. When Hannibal took oath of perpetual hatred to the Romans, he included in that oath plebeians as well as patricians ; so if thou art indeed at enmity with evil, thou wilt abhor all iniquity, even though it be of the very lowest degree. G4! THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. Beware that thou write not down affright at one bin as hein<^ repentance for all. There arc, doubtless, other forms and phases of doubt, but our space does not allow us to mention more, nor does the character of the volume require that we should ex- patiate on more of these than are the most usual causes of grief to the Lord's people. We beseech the evcr-giacious Spirit to reveal the ])erson of Jesus to ever^ smitten sin- ner ; to anoint his eyes with eye-salve, that he may see the heart of love which moves the hand of rebuke, and to guide every mourning seeker to the cross, whence pardon and comfort ever flow. It is none other than Jesus who thus frowns us to our senses, and chastises us to right reason ; may the Holy Ghost lead every troubled one to believe this encouraging doctiine, then shall our heart's desire be granted. We cannot, however, bring our remarks to a close until again we have urged the duty of self-examination, which is at once the most important and most neglected of all religious exercises. When we think how solemn is the alternative " saved " or " damned',' we cannot but importune our readers, as they love their souls, to " examine themselves wdi ether they be in the faith." Oh ! remember it will be all too Ikte to decide this question soon, since it will cease to be a question. The time will have passed for hoptfful changes and gracious discoveries ; the only changes will be to tor- ments more excruciating, and discoveries then will but reveal horrors more and more terribly astounding. We wonder not that men should anxiously inquire concern- ing their position ; we might marvel more that the most )f them are so indifferent, so utterly careless to the things )f the kingdom of heaven. It is not our body, our estate, our liberty, concerning which tliere is this question at law, it is a suit of far weightier nature — our eternal exis- tence in heaven or hell. Let us narrowly inspect our in- FAITHFUL WOUNDS. Gl t one fcsin as ncnnost feelings ; let ns seareh wliat uuinner of men we be; let us rii^idly sciutinize our heart, aivl learn -Nvhetliei' it be light with God or no. Let not the j^ood opinion of our fellow-men mislead us, but let us searcli for ourselves, lest we be found like the mariner who bought his l)nys of one who filled them not with biscuit but with stones, and he, relying on the merchant's word, found himself in the broad ocean without a morsel of food. Yet if good men tell us we are wrong, let us not despise their oj>inion, for it is more easy to deceive ourselves than the elect. He was not far from the truth who said, " We strive as hard to hide our hearts from ourselves as from others, and al- ways with more success; for, in deciding upon oui' own case, we are both judge, and jury, a,nd eX(!Cutioner ; and where sophistry cannot overcome the first, or liattery the second, self-love is always ready to defeat the sentence by bribing the third — a bribe that in this case is never refused, because she always conies up to the price."* Since we are liable to be self-deceived, let iis be the more vigilant, giving most earnest heed to every w^arning and re[)roof, lest the very warning which we slight should be that which migiit have shown ns our danger. J^lany tradesmen are ruined by neglecting their books ; but he vvdio frequently cnsts up his accounts will know his own position, and avoid such things as would be hazardous or destructive. No ship was ever wrecked by the captain's over-anxiety in taking his longitude and latitude ; but the wailing sea bears sad witness to the fate of careless mariners, who forgot their chart, and wantonly steeied onward to rocks which prudent foresight would easily have avoided. Let us not sleep as do others, but rouse ourselves to persevering w^atch fulness, by the solemn con- sideration that if we be at last mistaken in our soul's condition, the error can never be amended. Here, if one b'lttle be lost, a hopeful commander expects to retrieve *Oolton. . ■3 ; 6Q THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. i his fortunes by future victory ; but let us once fail to overcome in the struggle of life, our defeat is everlasting. The bankrupt merchant cheers his spirit with the pros- pect of coumiencing trade again — business may yet pros- per, competence may yet bless him, and even wealth may deign to lill his house with her hidden treasures ; but he who finds himself a bankrupt in another world, without God, without Christ, without lio2)e, must abide for ever penniless, craving, with a beggar's lip, the hopeless boon of one poor drop of water to cool his burning tongue. When life is over with the unrighteous, all is over — where the tree falleth there it must lie ; death is the Me- dusa's head, petrifying our condition — he that is unholy shall be unholy still ; he that is unjust, must be unjust still. If there were the most remote possibility of recti- fying our present errors in a future state of existence, we might have some excuse for superficial or infi-equent in- vestigation ; this, however, is utterly out of the question, for grace is bounded by the grave. If we be in Christ, all that heaven knows of unimaginable bliss, of inconceiv- able glory, of unutterable ecstasy, shall be ours most richly to enjoy ; but if death shall find us out of Christ, horrors surpassing thought, terrors beyond the dreamings of despair, and tortures above the guess of misery, must be our doleful, desperate doom. How full of trembling is the thought, that multitudes of fair professors are now in hell : although they, like ourselves, once wore a goodly name and hoped, as others said of them, that they were ripening for glory ; whereas they were fattening for the slaughter, and were drugged for execution with the cup of delusion, dreaming all the while that they were drink- ing the wines on the lees, well refined. Surely, among the damned, there are none more horribly tormented in the fiame than those who looked to walk the golden streets, but found themselves cast into outer darkness, where there is weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of FAITHFUL WOUNDS. g: teeth. Tlie hi;^'her tlic pinnacle from wliich we slip, the more fearful will be our fall ; crownless kings, beggared princts, and starving robles, arc the more pitiable be- cause of uheir former condition of aiiiuence and grandeur : so also will fallen professors have a sad pi'e-eminence of danmati(m, from tlie very fact that they were once es- teemed rich and increased in goods. When we consider the vast amount of unsound profession wliich pi-evaila in this age, and which, like a smooth, but .shallow sea, doth scarcely conceal the rocks of hyi)Ocrisy — when we review the many lamentable falls which have lately occurred among the most eminent in the Church, we would lift up our voice like a trumpet, and with all our might entreat all men to be sure of their grounds of trust, lest it should come to pass that sandy foundations should be discovered when total destiuction has rendered it too late for any- thing but despair. - , age of profession, put thyself in the crucible ! na- tion of formalists, take heed lest ye receive the form and leject the Spirit ! O reader, let us each commence a thorough trial of our own spirits ! ** Oh! Avhat am 1 ? My soul awake, ' ^.iid an impartial survey take: Docs no dark sign, no ground of fear, In practice or in heart appear ? " What image does my spirit bear ? Is Jesus formed and livint^ there ? Say, do his lineaments divine In thought, and word, and action, shine? " Searcher of hearts ! oh search me still. The secrets of my soul reveal; My fears remove, let me api)ear To God and my own conscience clear. " May I at that bless'd world arrive, Where Christ through all my soul shall live, And give full i}roof that he is there, Without one gloomy doubt or fear." 68 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. in. We close our chapter by tbe third remark — the wounds of our Jesus were faithful. Here proof will be entirely an unnecessary excess, but we think meditation will be a profitable engagement. Ah ! brethren, when we were groaning under the chastening hand of Jesus, we thought him cruel; do we think so ill of him now? We conceived that he was wroth Avitli us, and would be implacable ; how have our surmises i)roved to be utterly unfounded ! The abundant benefit which we now reap from the deep plough: ug of our heart is enough of itself to reconcile us to the severity of the process. Precious is that wine which is ]n-essed in the winefat of conviction ; pure is that gold which is dug from the mines of re|)ent- ance ; and bright are those pearls which are found in the caverns of deep distress. We might never have known such deep humility if He had not humbled us. We had never been so separated from fleshly trusting had he not by his I'od revealed the corruption and disease of our heart. We had never learned to comfort the feeble- minded, and confirm the weak, had he not made us ready to halt, and caused our sinew to shrink. If we have any power to console the weary, it is the result of our remembrance of what wo once suiiered — for here lies our power to sympathise. If we can now look down with scorn upon the boastings of vain, self- conceited man, it is because our own vaunted strength has utterly failed us, and made us contemptible iii our owi} eyes. If we can nov. plead wdth ardent desire for the souls of our fellow- men, and especially if we feel a more than common pas- sion for the salvation of sinners, we must attribute it in no small degree to the fact that we have been smitten for sin, and therefore knowing' the terrors of the Lord are constrained to persuade men. The laborious pastor, the fei'vent minister, the ardent evangelist, the faithful teach- er, the powerful intercessor, can all trace the birth of their zeal to the sufferings they endured for sin, and the know- FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 69 leclo"e they thereby obtained of its evil nature. We have ever drawn the sharpest arrows from the quiver of our own experience. We find no sword-blades so true in metal as those which have been forged in the furnace of soul-trouble. Aaron's rod, that budded, bore not one half so much fruit as the rod of the covenant, which is laid upon the back of every chosen child of God ; tliis alone may render us eternally gjateful to the Saviour for his rebukes of love. We ma,v pause for a moment over another tlioui>ht, and we call to nunJ our deep depravity. We find witiiin us a strong and deep-seated attachment to the world and its sinful pleasure ; our heart is still prone to wander, and our affections yet cleave to things below. Can ^yc won- der then that it required a sharp knife to sever us at first from our lusts, which w^ere then as dear to us as the meni- l)ers of our body ? so foul a disease could only be healed by frequent draughts of bitter medicine. Let us detest the sin which rendered such rough dealing necessary, but let us adore the Saviour who spaied not the child for his crying. If our sin had been like the hyssop on the wall, our own hand might have gently snapped the I'oots ; Imt having become lofty as a cedar of Lebanon, and firmly settled in its place, only the omnipotent voice of Jehovah could avail to break it : we will not therefore conq)l;iin of the loudness of the thundei', but rejoice at the overturn- ing of our sin. W^ill the man who is asleep in a l)urning house murmur at his deliverer for shaking him too roughly in his bed ? Would the traveller, tottering on the brink of a precipice, upbraid the friend who started him from his reverie, and saved him from destruction. Would not the ha idest words ana the roughest usage be acknowledged most lieartily as blows of love and warnings of affection. Best of all, wdien wo view tliese matters in the light of eternity, how little are these slight and momentary alHic- tions compared with the doom thereby e.sca[)ed, or the II 70 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. bliss afterwards attained ! Standing where our ears can be filled with the wailings of the lost, where our eyes are grieved by sights of the hideous torments of the damned, contemplating for an instant the fathomless depth of eternal misery, with all its deprivation, desperation, and aggravation — considering that we at tiiis hour might have been in our own persons enduring the doom we deprecate, — surely it is easy work to overlook the j^Jain of our con- viction, and bless with all sincerity "the hand which re- scued us." O hammer which broke our fetters, how can we think ill of thee ! O angel which smote us on the side, and let us out of the prison-house, can we do aught but love thee ! O Jesus, our glor'ous deliverer, we would love thee, live to thee, and die for thee ! seeing thou hast loved us, and hast proved that love in thy life and in thy death. Never can we think thee unmerciful, for thou wast merci- fully severe. We are sure not one stroke fell too heavily, nor was one pang too painful. Faithful thgu wast in all thy dealings, and our songs shall exalt thee in all thy ways, even when thou causest groans to proceed from our wounded spirits. And when our spirits shall fly to- ward thy throne of light, though in their unceasing halle- lujahs thy tender mercies and lovingkindnesses shall claim the highest notes, yet, midst the rapturous hosannahs, shall be heard the psalm^of remembrance" sounding forth our praise for the rod of the covenant and the hand of af- fliction. While here on earth we hymn thy praise in humbler strains, and thus adore thy love — ** Long unafllicted, undismayed, In pleasure's path secure 1 strayed, Thou niad'i^t me feel thy chastening rod, 1 turned unto my God. And straight *' What though it pierced my fainting heait, I bless the hand that caused the smart i It taught my tears awhile to flow, But saved me from eternal woe. FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 71 r ears can " Oh ! hadsi thou left me unchastised, Thy precepts I had still despised, And still the snare, in secret laid, Had my unwary feet betrayed. " I love thee, therefore, O my God, And breathe towards thy dear abode, Where, in thy presence fully blest, Thy 'hosen saints for ever rest," 72 THE SAINT ADD HIS SAVIOUR. TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. Friend, — In tin's chapter thou hast parted company with the Cliristian, Thou couldst join with him while lie esteemed not Jesus, but now that Christ has begun io wound the conscience of his child, thou biddest him adieu, and proudly boasteth that thou art not one of so misera- ble a character. Notwithstanding this, I am loath to part with thee until I have again ex])()^tnlated with thee. Thou thinkest it a blessing to be free from the sad feelinixs we have been desciibiuGf, but let me tell thee it is thy curse — thy greatest, deadliest curse tliat thou art a stranu'er to such inward mournini:^ for thv U'uilt. In the day when the Judge of heaven and eai'th shall divide tares from wheat, thou v\nlt see how terrible it is to be an unregenate sinner. When the llames of hell get hold npon thee, thou wilt wish in vain for that very experi- ence which now thou dost set at nought. It will not be all Mav-dav with thee ; thine hour of death is as sure as another man's, and then a better than I shall convince thee of thine error. Laugh not at weeping souls, account them not to be in a pitiable plight , for sad as their con- dition apjioars, it is not half so sac' as vMiine, and there is not one of all those moaning penitents who would change pljRies with thee for an hour. Their grief is greater joy than thy bliss ; thy laughter is not so sweet as their groans ; and thy pleasant estate is despicable compared with their sorest distress. Besides, remember those who are now in such darkness will soon see the light, but thou shalt soon walk in increasing and unceasing darkness. Their sorrows sliall ho ended ; thine are not vet commenc- FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 73 ed, find when commenced shall never know a conclusion. Theirs is a hopeful distress ; thine will be hopeless agony. Their chastisement comes from a loving Jesus ; thine will proceed from an angry God. Theirs has for its certain end ETERNAL SALVATION ; thine everlasting damnation. Oh ! bethink thee for a moment, wouldst thou rather choose to have painless mortification and so perish, than to feel soreness in thy wounds and then receive a cure ? Wouldst thou rather lie and rot in a dungeon than bruise thyself by climbing the wall to escape ? Surely thou wouldst endure anything ither than be damned, and I bid thee take this for truth, that thou shalt either repent or burn ; thou shalt either shed tears of penitence here, or else shriek in vain for a drop of water in that pit wbich burnetii with fire unquenchable. What sayest thou to this? Canst thou dwell with devouring flames? Canst thoa abide the eternal burnings ? Ah ! be not mad, I entreat thee. Why shouldst thou destroy thyself ? What good will come of it when thy blood shall be laid at thine own door? Hast thou not sinned ? Whv then think it foolish to repent ? Has not God threatened his fierce wrath to him that goeth on in his iniquity ? Wliy then despise those Avhom grace has turned, and who therefore are constrained to bid thee turn from the error of thy sinful ^vays ? May the Lord stay thy madness in time, and give thee repentance, otherwise, " Tophct is or- dained of ol'l : the pile thereof is fire and much wood ; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of brimstone, doth kindle it." * * Isa. XXX. 33. E m III. ^m\^ §t^ivtA, " Oh that T knew where I might find him ! " — Job xxiii. 3. WHILE the woundingsof Jesus are given in the dx.'k, and we do not recognise the hand whicli sniiteth us ; but it is not always to be so. Incessant disappointments put us out of all heart with the ibriuer refuges of our souls, and renewed discoveries make us sadly awaie of the superlative evil dwelling in our flesh ; stripped thus of all covering without, and trembling at our own shameful impotence, we hail with gladness the news of a Saviour for sinners. As on the frail raft, the almost skeleton maiinei's, havinof lono-aii'O devoured their last morsel, raise themselves with all their remaining strength to catch a glimpse of a passing sail, if haply it may bring relief, so doth tlie dying sinner receive with eagerness the message of coming grace. He might have scorned the terms of mercy once, but, like a city long be- sieged, he is now too glad to receive peace at any price. The cfrace which in his hit»'h estate he counted as a worth- less thing, is now the great object of his combined desires. He pants to see the Man who is " mighty to save," and would count it honour to kiss his feet or unloose the latchet of his shoes. No cavilling at sovereignty, no murmuring' at self-humiliation, no scorning the unpurchas- JESUS DESIRED. 75 aV)lc gifts of discj'iininatin<,^ love ; the man is too poor to be proud, too sick to stiu;^'i,de with his physician, too much afraid of death to refuse the king's pardon because it puts him under obligation. Happy is it for us if we understand this position of utter helplessness into which we must all be brought if we would know Christ ! It is one of the stranixe thin^-s} in the dealinjj^s of Jesus that even when we arrive at this state of entire sjjiritual destitution, we do not always become at once the objects of his j ustifying grace. Long seasons frequently intervene between our knowledge of our ruin, our hearing of a de- liverer, and the application of that deliverer's hand. The Lord's own called ones frequently turn their e^^es to the hills, and find no help coming therefrom ; yea, they wish to look unto him, but they are so blinded that they can- not discern him as their hope and consolation. This is not, as some would rashly conclude, because he is not the Saviour for such as they are. Far otherwise. Unbelief crieth out, " All ! my vileness disqualifies me for Christ, and my exceeding sinfulness shuts out his love 1" How foully doth unbelief lie when it thus slandereth the tender heart of Jesus ! how inhumanly cruel it is when it thus takers the cup of salvation from the only lips which have a right to drink thereof ! We have noticed in the preach- ing of the present day too much of a saint's gospel, and too little of a sinner's gospel. Honesty, morality, and goodness, are commended not so much as the marks of godliness, as the life of it; and men ai-e told that as they sow, so they shall reap, without the absolutely necessary caveat that salvation is not of man, neither by man, and that grace cometh not to him that worketh, but to him that believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly. Not thus spake our ancient preachers when in all its fulness they declared — " Not the righteous, not the righteous — Sinners, Jesus came to save." 76 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 'J.i: I The words of a much calumniated preacher arc not less bold than true: — " There is nothing in men, thouf^h never so vile, that can debar a person from a part in Christ. Some will not have Christ, except they can pay for him ; others dare not meddle with Christ, because they are such vile and wretch- ed creatures, th .t they think it imjjossible that Christ should bt >ig '■ ■ such wretched persons as they are. You know not niih >nej what an abominable sinner I am; you look u)_ jii e^^s, and their sins are but ordinary, but mine are of a deep l.) e, and I shall die in them : the re- bellion of my heart is another kind of rebellion than is in others. Beloved, let me tell you freely from the Lord, let men deem you as they will, and esteem yourself as bad as you can, I tell you from the Lord, and I will make it good, there is not that sinfulness that can be imagined in a ci'ea- ture that can be able to separate or debar any of you from a part in Christ ; even though you are thus sinful, Christ may be your Christ. Nay, I go further ; suppose one person in this congregation should not only be the vilest sinner in the world, but should have all the sins of others, besides what he himself hath committed; if all these were laid upon the back of him, he should be a greater sinner than now he is ; jet, if he should bear all the sins of others, as I said, there is no bar to this pei'son, but Christ may be his portion. * He bore the sins of many ' (saith the text), but he bare them not as his own, he baie them for many. Suppose the many, that are sinners, should have all their sins translated to one in particular, still there is no more sin than Christ died for, though they be all collected to- gether. If other men's sins were translated upon you, and they had none, then they needed no Christ ; all the need they had of Christ were translated to you, and then the whole of Christ's obedience should be yours. Do but observe the strain of the G(5spel, you shall tind that no sin in the world can be a bar to hinder a person from having I I JESUS DESIRED. 77 TC not less ► vile, that le will not rs dare not nd wretch - hat Christ ^ are. Yon mer I am ; dinary, but n : the re- 1 than is in le Lord, let ilf as bad as j.ke it good, d in a ci'ea- )f you from iful, Christ one person lest sinner ers, besides ! were laid inner than f others, as st may be the text), I for many. e all their is no more lected to- n you, and 1 the need and then , Do but that no sin cm having a part of Christ ; look upon the condition of persons (as they are revealed in the Gospel) to whom Christ is reach- ed out; and the consideration of their persons will plain- ly show to you that there is no kind of sinfulness can bar a person from having a part in Christ. Consider Christ's own expression, * I came to seek and to save that which ^vas lost ; I came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance ; the whole need not a physician, but they that are sick ; ' here still the persons are considered in tl»e worst condition (as some might think) rather than in the best. Our Saviour is pleased to express himself in a di- rect contrary way to the opinion of men. ' ^ came not to call the righteous, but sinners ;' the p or publican that had nothing to plead for himself went away more justified than the proud pharisee, who pleaded wi^^h God, ' I thank thee that I am not such an one.' " Men think righteousness brings t jm near to Christ; beloved, our righteousness is that which puts a man away from Christ ; stumble not at the expression, it is the clear truth of the Gospel ; not simply a doing of service and duty doth put away from Christ ; but upon the doing of duty and service to expect acceptance with Christ or participation in Christ — this kind of rigliteousness is the only separation between Cln-ist and a people ; and whereas no sinfulness in the world can debar a peo^ile, their righteousness may debar them."* Possibly some may object to such terms as these being too strong and unguarded, but a full consideration of them will show that they are such as would natui-ally tlow from the lips of a Luther when inculcating faith alone as the means of our salvation, and are fully borne out by the strong expressions of Paul when writing to the Romans and Galatians. The fact is, that very strong terms are necessary to niako men see the whole of this truth, for it is one which of all things the mind can least receive. I i '.'.n > I ■■ t ■ ; i ■J, t \\ i:' t\ J ■I 78 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. If it were possible to make men clearly understand that justification is not in the least degiee by their own works, how easy would it be to comfort them ! but herein lies the jjjroatcst of all difficulties. Man cannot be taught that his goodness is n'o increase to God's wealth, and his sin no diminution of divine riches; he will for ever be imagining that some little presents must be offer- ed, and that mercy never can be the gratuitous bounty of Heaven. Even the miserable creature who has learned- his own bankruptcy and beggary, while assured that he cannot bring an^'thing, yet trembles to come naked and as he is. He knows he cannot do anything, but he can scarcely credit the promise which seems too good to be true — " I will heal, their backsliding, I. will love them freely : for mine anger is turned away from him."* Yea, when he cannot deny the evidence of his own eyes, be- cause the kind word stares him in the face he will turn away from its glories under the sad supposition that they are intended for all men save himself. The air, the stream, the fruit, the joys and luxuries of life, he takes freely nor ever asks whether these were not intended for a special people ; but at the upper springs he stands fear- ing to dip his pitcher, lest the flowing flood should refuse to enter it because the vessel was too earthy to be fit to contain such pure and precious Avater : conscious that in Christ is ail his help, it 3'et appears too great a presump- tion even to touch the hem of the Saviour's garment. Nor is it easy to persuade the mourning [icnitent that sin is no barrier to grace, but that " where sin abounded, grace did much more abound ; and only the spirit of God can make the man who knows himself as nothing at all, receive Jesus as his all in all. When the Lord has set his heart on a man, it is not a great difficulty that will move him from his purpose of salvation, and therefore " he de- vises means that his banished be not expelled from him." f * ^os. xiv. 4. + 2 Sam. xiv. 14. JESUS DESIRED. 79 By the divine instruotion of the Holy Ghost, the sinner is taught that Jesus is the sinner's friend, adapted to his case, and " able to save unto the uttermost." Even then, too often, the work is not complete ; for the soul now labours to find him whom it needs^ and it often happens that the search is prolonged through months of weariness and days of Imguishing. If the Church, in the canticles, confesses, " By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth ; I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will s'^-ek him whom my soul loveth ; I sought him but I found him not," surely, even if our reader's history does not confirm the fact that grace is sometimes hidden, he will at least assent to the probabil- ity of it, and pray for the many Vv^ho are crying, '* Oh that I knew where I might find him." May Jesus smile on our humble endeavour to trace the steps of our own soul, so that any who are in this miserable condition may escape by the same means ! O ye prisoners of ho}ie, who are seeking a Redeemer who apparently eludes your grasp, let your earnest prayer ac- company your reading, while you fervently cry — *' Saviour, cast a pitying eye, Bid my sins and sorrows end : Whither should a sinner fly '? Art not thou a sinner's friend ? Rest in thee I gasp to find, Wretched I, and poor, and blind. " Didst thou ever see a soul More in need of help than mine ? Then refuse to make me whole ; Then withhold the balm divine : But if I do want thee most, Come, and seek, and save the lost. " Haste, oh haste to my relief ; From the iron furnace take ; Rid me of my sin and grief, 80 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. tl -11 I : ■^' For thy love and mercy's sake ; Set my heart at liberty, Show forth all thy power in me, " Me, the vilest of the race. Most unholy, must unclean ; Me, the farthest from thy face, Full of misery and sin ; Me with arms of love receive ; Me, of sinners chiei— forgive I "* We propose — • I. To mark the hopeful signs connected with this state of heart ; II. To give certain excellent reasons why the soul is permitted to tarry in it ; and III. To hold forth sundry plain directions for beha- viour in it, and escape from it. I. It is our pleasant duty to note the hopeful signs which gladden us when reviewing this state. 1. We are cheered by observing that the longing of the spirit is now entirely after Jesus — "Oh that 1 knew where I might find lliiu!" Once, like the many whom David mentions, the inquiry was, "Who will show us any good?" A question indis I'iminately addressed to any and all within hearing, demanding with eagerness any good in all the world. Eut now the desires have found a channel, they are no longer like the wide-spread sheet of water covering with shallow depth a tract of marsh teem- ing with malaria and pestilence, but having found a channel, they rush forward in one deep and rapid stream, seeking the broad ocean, where sister streams have long since mingled their floods. Of most men the complaint is true, that they will " bore and thread the spheres " with the " quick, })iercing eye " of the astronomer, or " cut through the working * Charles Wesley. i d i JESUS DESTRED. 81 w smo this stato e soul ia for beha- 'ful signs vg of the I knew y whom V us ciJiy to any less any found a sliect of sh teom- ound a stream, |vo long ley will l)iercing 'Orking ave" to win the pearl, or wear themselves away in ._noky toil, while as " subtle chymics " they divest and strip the creature naked, till they find the callow princi- ples within their nests; in fine, will do anything and everything of inferior importance, but here are so negli- gent that it is truly asked, ** What hath not man sought out and found But his dear God ?" * When the heart can express itself in the words of our textjit is far otherwise, for to it every other subject is trivial, and every other object vain. Then, too, there was the continual prayer after pardon, conveision, washing, in- struction, justification, adoption, and all other spiritual blessings ; but now the soul discerns all mercies bound up in one bundle in Jesus, audit inquires no more for cassia, aloes, and cam])hire, but asks for Him who hath the savour of all good ointmerts. It is no small mark of grace when we can esteem Jesus to be all we want. He who believeth there is gold in the mine, and desires to obtain it, will not be long before he hath it ; and he who knoweth Jesus to be full of hid treasures of mercy, and seeketh him diligently, shall not be too long detained from a possession of him. We have never known a sinner anxious for Jesus — for Jesus only — who did not in due time discover Jesus as his friend, " waiting to be gracious." Our own experience recalls us to the period when we panted for the Lord, even for Him, our only want. Vain to us were the mere ordinances — vain as bottles scorched by the simoom, and drained of their waters. Vain were cei'cmonies — vain as empty wells to the thirsty Arab. A^ain were the delights of the flesh — bitter as the waters of Marah, which even the parched lips of Israel refused to drink. Vain were the directions of the legal })reacher— useless as the howling of the wind to the benighte * Herlrert. 11 f/l i 82 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. vvanderor. Vain, worse than vain, were our rofuges ol lies, wliicli fell about our ears like Dagon's temple on the heads of the worshippers. One only hope we had, one sole refuge for our misery. Save where that ark floated, north, south, cast, and west, were one broad expanse of ti'ouhled waters ; save where that stnr burned, the sky was one vast field of unmitigated darkness. Jesus, Jesus Jesus ! he alone, he without another, had become th(i solitary hiding-place against the stoi-m. As the wounded, lying on the battle-field, with wounds which, like fires, consume his moisture, utters only one monotonous cry of thrilling importunity, "Water, water, water!" so did we pei'petually send our prayer to heaven, "Jesus, thou Son of l)avid, have mercy on me ! Jesus, come to me ! " *' Gracious Lord ! inchno thine ear, My requests vouchsafe to hoar ; Hoar my never-ceasing cry — Give me Christ, or else I die. ** \Vealth and honour I disdain, Earthly comforts, Lord, are vain ; These can never satisfy, Give me Christ, or else I die. " Lord, deny me what thou wilt, Only ease me of my guilt ; Sup[)liant at thy f(>et 1 lie, Give me Cluist, or else I die. " All unh(dy and unclean, I am notliing else but sin ; On thy mercy I rely, Give me Christ, or else I die. *' Thou dost freely save the lost, In thy grace alone I trust ; With my earnest suit comply. Give me Christ, or else I die. JESUS DESIRED. 83 " Thdu ('lost promise to forgive All who in thy Son believe ; Lord, I know thon canst not lie, Give nie Chr'st, or else I die. " Father, does thy justice frown ? Let me shelter in thy Son ! Jesus to thy arms I fly. Come and save me, or I die." As he that tantai'seth thirst with painted rivers — as he that embittereth hunger's pangs by the offering of pictured fruits, so were they who spoke of ought else save Christ and him crucitied. Our heart ached with a void the whole earth could not iill ; it heaved with a desire as irresistible as the mountain torrent, and as little able to be restrained as the volcano when ssvelling with its fiery lava. Every power, every passion, every wish, moved onward in one direction. Like an army pressing upwards through a breach, did our united p(jwers rush forwai-ht upon y weight It is mij ; for help a broken furgeon;' a i-aoino' a physi- hen God •ays, not eart; lie eause he , having expcri- d to call ;al form le natu- Is offerer eathing lorn sus- ise once stariy H inces- of our ! I doors every lioiir brings a post, so at the doof of mercy every hour will hear a prnyer from sucli an one ; in fact, the soul will be full of prayer even when it is not in the exercise itself — even as a censer niay be filled with incense when no fire is burning in it. Prayer will become a state of the soul, perpetual and habitual, needing nothing but o|)i)ortunity to develop itself in the outward act of peti- tioning at the feet of mercy. It is well when Mr. De- sires-awake is sent to court, for he will surely prevail. Violence taketh the kingdom by force ; hard knocks open mercy's door ; swift running overtakes the promise ; hard wrestlino- wins the Ijlessim--. When the child crieth well, his lungs are sound; and when the seeker can with impetuous earnestness implore pardon, he is most surely not far from health. When the soil of our garden begins to rise, we know that the bulb will soon send forth its shoot ; so when the heart break- eth for the longing which it hath unto God's testimonies, we perceive that Jesus will soon appear to gladden the spirit. 3. We are rejoiced to observe the •'^ense of igwrahjc ivlnch the seeker here expretses — " OJt that I knew whe/'^ I might find him ! " Men are b}^ nature very wise in n .•in- ters of religion, and in their own opinion they might easily set up for Doctors of Divinity witlnjut the slight- est spii'itual enlightenment. It is a remav' able fact tliat men who find every science in the worhi to be too much for them, even when they have but ^vaded ankle-deep into the elements thereof, can yet affect to be-masters of theology, and competent, yea, infallibl* .judges in mattejs of religion. Nothing is more easy thcin to pretend to a piofound ac(|uaintance with the religion of the cross, and even to maintain a reputation as a well-taught and highly-instructed disciple of the Lamb ; and, at the same time, nothing is more rare than i-eally to be taught oi' God, and illuminated by the Spirit; ii 1 yet without ■m^§\ lit ^t -' m I 1 «8 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. tliis the religion of Jesus never can be really understood. Natural men may ariay their selves in robes of learning, ascend the chair of profession, and thence teach to others doctrines with which they fancy themselves to be thor- oughly conversant ; and if a word were hinted of their deticiency in knowledge, and their inherent inability to discern spiritual things, how wrathful they would be- come, how fiercely would they denounce the bigotry of such an assertion, and how furiously would they condemn the cant and fanaticism which they conceive to be the origin of so humiliating a doctrine ! To be as little children, and bend their necks to the yoke of Jesus, the Master, is quite out of the cpiestion with the men of this generation who love to philosopliise the Word, and give what they call "intellectual" views of the Gospel. IJow little do they suspect that, pro- fessing themselves to be wise, they have become fools ! Hew little do they imagine that their grand theories and learned essays are but methods of the madness of folly, and, like paintings on the whidows of their understanding, assist to shut out the light of the H0I3' Spirit. Self-con- ceit in men who are destitute of heavenly light, uncon- sciously to them doth exercise itself on that subject upon which their ignorance is of necessity the greatest. They will ackno^^ ledge that when they have studied astronomy, its sublimities are beyond them ; they will not arrogate to themselyes a lordship of the entire regions of au}^ one kinc^dom of knowledge : but here, in theology, they feel themselves abundantly qualilied, if they have some readi- nuss in the original languages, and have visited the schools of the unjvevsities ; where as a man might with as much justice style li'mself professor of botany, because he knows the scieiujli'- v^anies of the classes and orders, altnough he has never seen one of the flowers thus named and an-anged — for wljat can education teach of theology but names a I'd theories ? Experience alone can bring the things nlllf^ JESUS DESIllED. 89 themselves before our eyes, and in the liarel, and how easih^ our wisdom disa})pears like a bubV)lc vanishing in air. We were never greater fools than whun cur wisdom was the greatest in our ow^i esteem ; but as soon as real wisdom came, straightway our opinion of our- selves fell from the clouds to the bottom of the mountains. We were no divines or doctors when w^e were under the convincing hand of the Spirit ; we were farmoi-e like babes for ignorance, and we felt ourselves to be very Urasts for folly,:|: Like men lost in a dark W(X)d, we could r.otfind our paths, the roads which were once apparent enough *Ephr, Udall'a Seriiinn-^ I', f Senen.i tin [rn, lil». ili. c. 'M\ Z Ps. Ixxiii. 22. h- ' ♦ 90 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. were then hedged up with thorns; and the very entrance to the narrow way had to be pointed out by Evangelist,* and marked by a light. Nevertheless, blessed is he who desireth to learn the fear of the Loid, for he si ill find it the begining of wisdom. ^ Nor, in the present case, hath a S3rsa of ignorarce driven the man to pry into secrets too deep for human wisdom. He doth not exclaim, " Oh that I knew where sin took its origin, or how predestination meeteth the agency of man ! " No ; he seeks only this, " Oh that I knew where I might find Him!" Many are pu/7ling them::f^lves about abstract questions while their eternal interests are in immincmt peril ; such men are like the man who counted the stars, but tak-ng no heed to his feet, fell into a pit and perished. " We may sooner think to span the sun, or grasp a star, or see a gnat swallow a leviathan, than fully understand the debases of eterrity. .... Too great an inquisi^iveness beyond our line is as much a provoking arrogance as a blockish negligence of what is revealed, is a slighting ingrat'tude."*)* The qu'ck- ened spirit disdains to ;;lack the wild flowers of carnal knowletlge ; he is not ai tbltioas to reach the tempting be;iuties bloominji: on tiie edije of the cliffs which skirt the sea of the unrevealed ; but he anxiously looks ai'ound for the rose of Sharon, the lily of the valley. He who thus studieth only to know Christ, shall soon, by the as- sistance of the Holy Spirit, learn enough to spell out his own salvation. 4. An evidence of grace is presented to us by the ab- sence of all cJ/oice as to ^vliere the y^u/viouris discovered. " Oh that T knew where I might find him 1" Here is no stipulation ; Jesus is wanted, and let him be wherever he may, the soul is prepared to go after him. We, when in this state of experience, knew little of sect or denomina- tion. Befoie our conviction we could fight for names. * Bunyan's Pilgrim. t C'liarxiock's Divine Attributes. JESUS DESIRED. 91 like mercenaries for other men's countries. The mottoes of our party were liigher in oar esteem than the golden rules of Chri^:tiaaity ; and we should have been by no means grieved at the conflagration of every other section of professors, if our own migljt have been elevated on the ruins. Every rubric and form, eve^y custom and anti- quity, we would have stained with our blood, if necessary, in order to preserve them; and miglitiiy did we shout concerning our own Church, " Great is Diana of the Ephe- sians." Not a nail in the cliurch-door bat we reverenced it — not a vestment which we did not admire; oi", if we loved not pomp, simplicities were magnilied into our very household gods. We hated popery, but were essentially papistical ; for we could have joined His Unholiness in all his anathemas, if he would buthave hurled them against those who differed from us. We too did, in our own fashion curse by bell, book, and candle, all who were not of our faith and order; and could scracely think it possi- ble that many attained salvation beyond the pale of our Church, or that Jesus deigned to give them so much as a transient visit. How changed we were wlien, by Div.'ne grace, the sec- tarianism of our uno'odliness did hide its head for rshame ! We then thought that we w^ould go among Methodists, Bapti.'^ts, Episcopalians, Independents, Presbyterians, or anywhere, so we could but find a Redeemer for our guilty souls, it is more than probable that we found it neces- sary to shift our quarters, and attend the very house which we lately detested, to bow with the people whom once we held in abhorrence. All the fancies of our for- mer lives dissolved before the heat of our desire. The huntsman loveth the mountain wl ich shadeth his vallev more than all its giant brothers; but nevertheless, when in hot pursuit of the chamois, he leapetli from crag to cag, and asks not what is the name of (he rock upon which the object of his cliaso hath boundcl ; so the sin- 92 THE SA^NT AND HIS SAVIOUR. Si I ;| iUli ncr, ardently following after the Saviour, will pursue him whithersoever he goeth. Nor at such seasons did ^VG rcgai'd the respectahility of the denomination or the o-randeur of the structure in which God was adored. The chapel in the dark alley, the des- ])ised and desjei'ted church, the disreputable schoolroom, were now no lonn'cr noticed with a sneer ; but whether under the vaulted sky of heaven, the cobweblxid tliatch of a bail), the dingy ceiling of a village station, or the magnificent roof of the temple of the great assembly, we onl}^ sought one thing, and that one thing found, all places were on a level. No praising a church for its architectu- I'al beauty — no despising a meeting-house for its aborig- inal ugliness ; both buildings were valued not by their figure but by their contents ; and where Jesus was more easily to be found, there did we make our haunt. It is true our servants, our ploughmen, and our paupers, sat with us to hear the same word ; but we did not observe the difieience, though once perhaps we might have looked aghast if any but my lady in satin, or m}^ lord in super fine broadcloth, had ventured into apew within the rangi ge of our breath. To us the company mattered not, so long- as the Master of the Feast would but reveal himself. The jilace might be unconsecrated, the minister unordained, the clerk uneducated, the sect despicable, and the service unpretending, but if Jesus did but show his face there it was all we wished for. There is no authentic account of the dimensions, the fashion, or furniture, of the room in which Jesus suddenly appeared and pronounced his " peace be unto you." Nor do we think that any one of the as- sembl}^ even so mucli as thought thereof A^dlile their Lord was present. It is \f ell when we are content to go whith- ersoever the Lamb doth lead. Doubtless, the catacombs of Rome, the glens of Scotland, and the conventic'es of Kngland, have been more frequented by the King of kings ihaii catliedrals or chaj^els-royal : therefore do the godly JESUS DESIRED. 93 count it little wliere they Nvorsliip, looking,' only for His j)resence which niaketh a hovel glorious," and de[)!ocatin^ his altsence, wliich makes even a temple desolate. We woidd in our anxious mood have followed Jesus in the cave, the mountain, the iMvine, or the catacomb, so that we might hut have heen with the circle of his inthunce. Nor w^ould we have blushed to have sought Jesus among liis kinsfolk and aeijuaintance — the sick, the poor, the un- educated, but yet sincere children of light. How di^ :\ \ cS'^ '^ '/. ^ s^ Hii 94 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. after Christ, then circumstance and place will be lightly esteomcd. We remark nlso that there is no condition for distancQ in tliis question, it is only " where ;" and though it be a thousand miles away, the man has his feet in readiness for the journe3\ Desire o'erleapeth space ; leagues to it are inches, and oceans narrow into straits. Where, at one time, a mile would tire the bod}', a long journey after the Word is counted as nothing ; yea, to stand in the house of God for houis during service is reckoned a pleasure and not a hardship. Th.e Hindoo devotee, to tind a ho])eless salvation, will roll himsolf along for hundreds of miles; it seems but natural that we, when searching for etci'nal life, should count all tilings bat loss for the excellency <>f the knowledge of Clnist Jesus ovir Lord. Mary Magdalene only needed to know where they had laid her Lord, and her resolve Avas, " I will take him away ;" for surely, she thoui»ht, her bodilv strentrth could never fail under such a burden, and slie measured the power of her l)ody by the might of her love. So do destitute sinneis, who need a Saviour, altogether laugh at hazards cr hardships wluch may intervene. Ojme mountain or valley, rapid c' lock, whirl})ool or tempest, desire hath girded the traveller with iiji omnipotence of heart, and a world of dangers is trod- den beneath the feet, with the shout of Deborah — " my soul, thou hast trodden down stn!Ui>th." " I doubt not," said Rutherford to Lady Kenmure, " that if hell were betwixt vou and Christ, as a river which ye behoved to cross ere ye could come at him, but 3'e would willingly put in your foot, and make through to be at him, upon hope that he would come in himself into the deepest of the river, and lend you his hand." Doubtless it is so with thee, reader, if thou art as we have de- scribed. We think also we may be allowed to add, that the ear- nest in(piirer d av nn of humiliation JESUS DESIRED, 95 which may be requ'ied of him ere he can " see Jesus." It is only demaided "where ?" and though the reply ma}'" bo, " Thee, in yonder cell of penitence, on your bended knees, stripped of all your gIoiie.>, shall you alone behold h:m," no delay will evea! the lurking pride; but an in- stantaneous and joyful ob<'dience will manifest that the ore ab.-ovb'ng passion has entirely swaHowed up all ideas of dignity, hoT Dur, ard pride. Like Benhadad, when in d^^ -a'er, hearincf thrt the kinij of Israel is a me-' "ful king, we w^:ll consent to put sack- cloth upon our loins, and ropes upon our necks, and go in unto him, hoping fur some words of favour. We make a suriender at discretV)n, withoiit reserve of the arms of oar sins or the baggage of our pleasures. He that is down so loAv as to be who y submissive, will find that even justice will not smite him. Mercy always tlieth near the groimd. Ihe flower of grnce growcth in the dells of hu- mility. The sf.irs of love shine in the night of onr self- despair. Jf truth l*e not :n a w^ell, certainly mercy doth. The hand of jus'ce spares the sinner who has thrown aw^ay both the sword of rebellion and the plumes of his pride. Jf we will do and be anything or everything, so that w^e may but win Christ, we shall soon find him to be everythif^g to us. There is no more hopeful sign of coming g ace th^^'i an emptiness of our own seliish terms and conditions, for he resisteth the ju'oud, but giveth grace unto the lowdy. Thus have we tried to sum u]) all the promises which this state affords, but cheering though they be, wo feni few^ will MCCCt^t the comfort they afford; for "as he tiiat poureth vinegar on nitre, so is he that singeth songs to a sad heart;" and it is geneially in vain to condole a pa- tient under an operation by any reileetions on the V)enefit thereof, seeing that while the pain lasteth he will still cry out and groan. Nevertheless, we who have escaped can- not refrain from singing without the walls of the dun|^eon 96 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. M ' i 111! in the hope that some within may hear and take heart. Let us say to every mourner in Zion, Be of good cheer, for " He wlio walked in the garden, and made a noise tliat made Adam hear his voice, will also at some time \vtilk in 3; our soul, and make you hear a more sweet word, yet ye will not always hear the noise and din of his feet when he walketh." * Ephraim is bemoaning and mourning j* " when he thinketh (Jod is afar off, and hear- eth not; and yet God is like the hridegroDm, standhig only behind a thin wall,| and la3'ing to his ear, for he saith to himself, I have surely heard Ephi-aim bemoaning himself." "I will surely have mercy upon him, saith the Lord." ^ Be thou of good cheer, O seeker ; go on, for hope pro- phesies success, and the signs of thy case prognosticate a happy deliverance. None who are like thee have failed at last ; persevere, and be saved. IL We are now arrived at our second division, where- in we proposed to consider the Hasons of this tavying. May our Divine Illuminator enlighten us while we write ! We believe that many are delayed because they seek not rightly, or because they seek not eagerly. With these we have just now nothing to do ; we are dealing with the genuine convert, the sincere searcher, who yet cannot find his Lord. To the exerci.ad mind no question is more hard to answer than this, *' Why doth he not hear ?" but when delivered from our distress, nothing is more i^uU of joy than the rich discoveiy that "he hath done all things well." If our reader be now in sorrow, let him believe what he cannot see, and receive the testimony of others who now bear witness that "God's way is in the sea, and his path in the deep waters." * Rutherford, f J^r. xxxi 18. J Cant. ii. 9. JESUS DESIRED. 97 1. We now pei-ccivo tluit it afforded pUm^iire to JcfUis to view the la1)uuj.s of our faith in pursuit after hiui. Jesus doth often hide his face from his children, that he may hear the sweet music of their cry. When the wo- man of Canaan came before our Lord, he answered her not a word, and Vvdien her importunity did somewhat prevail, a harsh sentence was all she obtained. Yet the ijlessed Jesus was not angry with her, but was pleased to behold her faith struggling amid the waves of his seem- ing neglect, and iinding anchorage even on that hard word which appeared like a rock I'eady to wr(>ck her liopes. He was so chai-med with her 1k.1v darinu* and heavenly resolution, that he detained her for a time to feast his e3x\s upon the lovely spectacle. The woman had faith in Christ, and Jesus would let all men see what faith can do in honoui- of its Lord. Great kin^s have anion''- their attendants certain well- trained artides who play before them, while they, sitting with their court, behold their feats with pleasure. Now, Faith is the king's champinn, v/hom he delights to put upon labours of the most herculean kind. Faith hath, when bidden by its Master, stopi)ed the stm and chained the moon ; it hath dried the sea and divided rivers; it hath dashed bulwarks to tlie groiuid ; (pienched the vio- lence of lire ; stopped the mouths of lions ; turned to tliuht the armies of the aliens, and robljcd death of its prey. Iinportiiriiti/ h 'he king's running footman; he hath been known to run whole m(>nths together without losing his breath, and over mountains ho leaps with the speed of Asahel ; therefoi'e doth the Lord at times try his endurance, for he loveth to see what his own child- ren can perform. Prater, also, is one of the royal nui- sicians ; and although many do prefer his brother, who is called Praise, yet this one hath evei' haf far more importance to a penitent, to useeveiy meanH for ob- taining the Saviour's blessini^, than to iiu^uire into the motives which have hitherto made him deaf to his peti- tions. Earnestly do wc entreat the mouiner to strive to enter in at the strai<,dit L^ate, and to continue his cry — '' Oh that I knew wliere I mi^ht lind him ! " III. It is now our ))leasant duty to direct the troubled spii'it to tlic means of ohtahiini/ spceihj dud I((sfiv(/ peace. May the Ood who opened tlie eyes of the desolate Ilagar in the wilderness, and jj^uided lier so that she saw a well of water whereat she Idled her empty bottle, use us as his finger to point the thirsting, dying siinierto the place where He stands, who once said, " If any man thiist let him come unto mo and drink." Our rules shall be ex- pressed in simple words — that the wayfaring man, though a fool, may not err therein. 1. Go tvhevG he goes. Dost thou desire to present a petition to the king — wilt thou not go to his palace to do it ? Art thou blind — where shouhlst thou sit but at the wny-side, begging ? Hast thou a sore disease — where is therea placemore tittingfor theethantheporchof Bethesda, where my Lord doth walk ? Art thou palsied — wilt thou not desire to be in his presence, though on thy bed th'^u be let down to the spot where he standeth ? Did not Obadiah and Ahab journey through the v/hole land of Israel to find Elijah ? and wilt not thou visit every place where there is hope of meeting Jesus ? Dost tliou know where his haunts are ? Hast thou not heard that he dwelleth on the hill of Zion, and hath fixed his throne of mercy within the gates of Jerusalem ? Has it not been told thee that he ofttimes cometh u' o th? feast, and mingleth with the worshippers in his tc'v.plt ? Have not the saints assured thee that he walketh in the midst of his Church, even as John, in vision, saw him among the golden candlesticks ? Go, then, to the city which he F . lOG THE SAINT AND HTS SAVIOUR. \b hath chosen for his dwelling-place, and wait within the doors which he hath deigned to enter. If thou knowest of a gospel minister, sit in the solemn assembly over which he is president. If thou hast heard of a church which has been favoured with visits from its Lord, go and make one in the midst of them, th;it when he cometh he may bid thee put thine hand into his side, and be not faithless but believing. Lose no opportunity of attending the word : Thomas doubted, because he was not there when Jesus came. Let sermons and prayers be thy delight, because they are roads wherein the Saviour walketh. Let the righteous be th}^ constant company, for such ever bring him where they come. It is the least thing thou canst do to stand where grace usually dispenseth its favour. Even the beggar writes his petition on the flag-stone of a frequented tiioroughfare, because he hopeth that among the many passers, some few at least will give him charity ; learn from him to otier thy prayers where mercies are known to move in the greatest number, that amid them all there may be one for thee. Keep thy sail up when there is no wind, that when it blows thou may est not have need to prepare for it ; use means when thou seest no grace attending them, for thus wilt thou be in the way when grace comes. Better go fifty times and gain nothing than lose one good opportunity. If the angel stir not the pool, yet lie there still, for it may be the moment when thou lea vest it will be the season of his descending. " Being in the way, the Lord met with me," said one of old; be thou in the way, that the Lord may meet with thee. Old Siineon found the infant Messiah in the Temple; had he deserted its hallowed courts he might never have said, " Mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Be sure to keep in mercy's way. 2. Cry after 1 Hill. Thou hast been lying in his path for many a day, but he has not turned his eye upon thee. JESUS DESIRED. 107 What tlien ? Art thou cc itent to let him pass thee by ? Art thou willing to lose so precious an opportunity ? No! thou desirest life, and thou wile not be ashamed to benf aloud for it; thou wilt not fear to take him for an ex- ample of whom it is written, " When he heard tliat it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, Jesus, thou Son of David have mercy on me ! And many cliavged Idm tliat he should hold his pe:ice ; but he cried the more a irrcat deal, Thou Son of JL/avid have mercv on me ! " It is an old proverb, " We lose nothing by asking," and it is an older promise, "Ask and ye sliall receive." Be not afraid of crying too loudly. It is recorded, to the honour of Moidecai, that he cried with a loud cry ; and we know that the kingdom of heaven sutiereth violence. Think it not possible to pray too frequently, but at morning, at noon, and at eventide, lift up thy soul unto God. Let not despondency stop the voice of thy supplication, for he who heareth the young ravens when they cry, will in due time listen to the trembling words of thy desire. Give him no rest until he hear thee : like the importunate widow, be thou always at the heels of the great One ; give not up because the past has proved apparently fruit- less, remember Jericho stood firm for six days, but yet when they gave an exceeding great shout, it fell flat to to the ground. " Arise, cry out in the night ; in the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like water before the face of the Lord. Let tears run down like a river day and night ; give thyself no rest ; let not the a[)pie of thine eye cease." '* Let groans, and sighs, and vows keep up perpetual assault at heaven's doors. " Groans fresh'd with vows, and vows made salt with tears ; Unscale hia eyes, and scale his conquered ears : Shoot up the bosom-shafts of thy desire, Feathered with faith, and double-forked with fire ; And they will hit j fear not, where heaven bids come, Heav'n's never deaf, but when man's heart is dumb." * Lara. ii. 18. 19. 1 108 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. Augustine sweetly writes, " Thou mayest seek after honours, and not obtain them ; thou mayest labour for riches, and yet remain poor; thou mayest dote on pleasures, and have many sorrows. But our God of his supreme goodness says, Who ever sought me, and found me not? who ever desired me, and obtained me not? who ever loved me, and missed of me ? I am with him that 3eeks for me ; he hath me already that wisheth for me ; and he that loveth me is sure of my love." Try whether it be not so, O reader, for so have we found it. 3. Think of his promises. He has uttered many sweet and gracious words, which are like the call of the hen, inviting thee to nestle beneath his wings, or like white flags of truce bidding thee come without fear. There is not a single promise which, if followed up, will not lead thee to the Lord. He is the centre of the circle, and the promises, like radii, all meet in him, and thence become Yea and Amen. As the streams run to the ocean, so do all the sweet words of Jesus tend to himself: launch thy bark upon any one of them, and it shall bear thee on- ward to the broad sea of his love. Lost on a dreary moor, the wanderer discovers his cottage by the light in the window casting a gleam over the darkness of the waste ; so also must we tind out " our dwelling-place" by the lamps of promise which our Saviour hath placed in the windows of his word. The handkerchiefs brought from the person of Paul healed the sick ; surely the pro- mises, which are the garments of Christ, will avail for all diseases. We all know that the key of promise will un- fasten every lock in Doubting Castle ; will we be content to lie any longer in that dungeon when that key is ready to our hand ? A large number of the ransomed of the Lord have received their liberty by means of a cheering word applied with power. Be thou constant in reading the word and meditation thereon. Amid the fair flowers of promise groweth the rose of Sharon — ^pluck the pro- JESUS DESIRED. 109 iiiises, and thou mayst find Him with them. He feedeth amoncr the lilies — do thou feed there also. The sure words of Scripture are the footsteps of Jesus imprinted on the soil of mercy — follow the track and find Him. The promises are cards of admission not only to the throne, the mercy- seat, and the audience chamber, but to the very heart of Jesus. Look aloft to the sky of Revelation, and thou wilt yet find a constellation of promises which shall guide thine eye to the star of Bethlehem. Above all, cry aloud when thou readest a promise, " Remember thy word unto thy servant, on which thou hast caused me to hope." 4. Meditate on his iierson and his ivork. If we were better acquainted with Jesus, we should find it more easy to believe him. Many souls mourn because they can- not make themselves believe ; and the constant exhorta- tions of ministers persuading them to faith, cause them to sink deeper in the mire, since all their attempts prove ineffectual. It were well for both if they would remem- ber that the mind is not to be compelled to belief by ex- hortation or force of will ; a small accpiaintance with the elements of mental science would suffice to show them that faith is a result of pievious states of the mind, and Hows from those antecedent conditions, but is not a position to which we can attain without passing through those other states which the Divine laws, both of nature and grace, have made the stepping-stones thereto. Even in natural things, we cannot believe a thing simply because we are persuaded to do so; we require evidenc ,; we ask, "What are we to believe ? " we need instruction en the matter before we can lay hold upon it. In spiritual things es- pecially we need to know what we are to believe, and why. We cannot by one stride mount to faith, and it is at least useless, not to say cruel, to urge us to do so, un- less we are told the grounds on which our faith must rust. Some men endeavour to preach sinners to Christ; we pre- i'Hi 'i 3 I III 110 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. fer to preacli Christ to siyioiers. We Lclieve that a faith- ful exhibition ot Jesus crucified will, under the Divine blessing, beget faith in hearts whei'o liery orator}^ and vehement decbimation have failed. Leo this be borne in mind by those who are bewailing tliemselves in the words of John Newton: " Oh, could I but believe, Then all would easy be; I would, but cannot — Lord relieve ! My help ninat coiue from thee." Thou wilt not long have need to pray in this fashion if thou c^nst obey the rule we would put before thee, which is, meditate on Jesus, reliect on the mystery of his incar- nation }ind redemption ; and frequently picture the agonies of Gethsemane and Calvary. The ci'oss not only demands faith, but causes it. The same Christ who requires faith for salvation doth infuse faith into all those who meekly and reverently meditate upon liis sacrifice and mediation. We learn to believe in an honest man by an acquaintance with him, even so (a! though faith be the gift of God, yet hegiveth it in the use of the mcans)it cometh topass that by frequent consideration of Je.sus we Icnow him, and therefore trust in him. Go tliou to the gloomy brook of Kedron, make Gethseniane tliy garden of retirement, tread the blood- stained Gabbatlia, climb the hill of Calvary, sit at the foot of the accui'sed tree, watch tlie victim in his agonies, listen to his groajis, mark his flowing blood, see his head bowed on his breast in death, look into his open side , then walk to the tomb of Joseph of Arimatiiea, behold him rise, witness his ascension, and view him exalted far above ])rincipaliti; s and powers, as the mediator for sinful men: . thus slialt iliou sue and believe, for verily hard is that unbelief which can endure such sights; and if the Holy Spirit lead thee to a true vision of them, thou fehalt be- li(!ve inevitably, finding it impossible longer to be incred- JESUS DESIRED. Ill ulous. A true view of Calvary will smite unbelief with death, and put faith inU) its phxce. Spend hours in holy retirement, tracing his pilgrimage of woe, and thou shalt soon sing, *' Oh how sweet to view the flowing Of his soul-redeeming blood ; With Divine assurance knowing That he made my peace with God ! '* 5. Venture on Him. This is the last but best advice we give thee, and if thou hast attended to that which precedes it, thou wilt be enabled to follow it. We have said " venture," but we imply no venture of risk, but one of courage. To be saved it is required of thee to renounce all hope of salvation by any save Jesus — that thou hast • submitted to. Next thou art called upon to cast thyself entirely on him, prostratnig thyself before his cross, con- tent to rely wholly on Htm. Do this and thou art saved, refuse and thou art damned. Subscribe thy name to this simple rhyme — *' I'm a poor sinner, and rothing at all, V But Jesus Christ is my all in all ; and, doing this, thou art 'secure of heaven. Dost thou delay becau -^ of unworthiness ? Oh do not so, for he invites thee just as thou art. Thou art not too sinful, for he is " able to save unto the uttermost." Think not little of his power or his grace, for he is infinite in each ; only fall fiat upon his gracious declaration, and thou shalt be embraced by his mercy. To believe is to take Jesus at his word, and when all things deny thee the hope of salvation, still to call Him yours. Now we beseech thee launch into the deep, now cut thy moorings and give up thyself to the gale, now leave the rudder in his hands, and surrender thy keeping to his guardian- III! 112 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ship; In this way alone shalt thou obtain peace and eternal life. May the Directing Spirit lead us each to him in whom there is light, and wliose light is the life of men. 1 peace and JESUS DESIRED. 113 TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. Friend, — Love to thy soul constrains iis to set apart this small enclosure for thine especial benefit. Oh that thou hadst as much love for thine own soul as the writer has ! Though he may have never seen thee, yet remem- ber when he wrote these lines he put up an especial prayer for thee, and he had thee on his heart while he penned these few but earnest words. Friend, thou art no seeker of Jesus, but the reverse ! To thine own confusion thou art going from him instead of to him ! Oh, stay a moment and consider thy ways — thy 'position — thine end ! As for thy ways, they are not only wrong before God, but they arc uneasy to thyself. Thy conscience, if it be not seared with a hot iron, is every day thundering at thee on account of thy paths of folly. Oh that thou wouldst turn from thine error, while the promise is yet within hearing, " Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and unto our God, for he will abundantly pardon." Be not betrayed into a continuance in these ways in the vain hope that 'ohy life will be prolonged to an indefinite period, wherein thou hopest to accomplish repentance ; for life is as frail as the bubble on the breaker, and as swift as the Indian arrow. To-morrow may nevei come, oh use " to-day " — *' Now, is the constant syllable ticking from the clock of time ; Now, is the watchword of the wise ; Now, is on the banner of tho prudent. I; Hi IV /i ■■ ■ 1 nil it 114 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. Cherish thy to-day, and prize it well, or ever it be engulphed in the past ; Husband it, for who can in'oiuiso if it shall have a to-mor- row ? " * " To-morrow is a fatal lie — the wrecker's beacon — the wily snare of the destroyer ; " be wise, and see to thy way-s while time waits for thee. Consider next thy 2)osition. A condemned criminal waiting for execution ; a tree, at the root of v/liich the axe is gleaming ; a target, to which the shaft of death is speeding ; an insect beneath the finger of vengeance waiting to be crushed ; a wretch hurried along by the strong torrent of time to an inevitable precipice of doom. Thy present position is enough to pale the cheek ol carelessness, and move' the iron knees of profanity. A man asleep in a burning house, or with his neck upon the block of the headsman, or lying before the mouth of a cannon, is not in a more dangerous case than thou art Oh bethink thee, ere desolation, destruction, and damna bion, seal up thy destiny, and stamp thee with des{)air ! Be sure, also, that thou consider thy latter end, for it is thine whether thou consider it or no. Thou art ripen- ing for hell ; oh, how wilt thou endure its torments 1 Ah! if thou wouldst afford a moment to visit, in imagination, the cells of the condemned, it might benefit thee for ever. What ! fear to examine the house in which thou art to dwell ? What ! rush to a place and fear to see a picture of it ? Oh let thy thoughts precede thee, and if they bring bade a dismal story, it may induce thee to change thy mind, and tread anotlier path ! Thou wilt lose noth- ing by meditation, but rather gain much thereby. Oh let the miseries of lost souls warn thee lest thou also come into this place of torment ! — May the day soon arrive when thou canst cry after the Lord, and then even thou shalt be delivered! * Tapper'? Proverbial Philoso/ihiu IV. ^m% ganloninof. " The blood of Jesua Christ his Son, cleansethus'fiom all sin."— 1 JoiiN i. 7. " I will praise thee every day, Now tliine anger's til rueil away ; Comfortable thoughts arise From the bleeding sacritioe. Jesus is become at length. My salvation and my strength ; And his praises shall [)rolong, While 1 live, my pleasant song." m'EtT our lips crowd sonnets within the compass ^^ of a word ; let our voice distil hours of melody '\^^ into a single syllable ; let our tongue uttci- in ^=(^ one letter tlie essence of the harmony of ages ; for we write of an hour which as iar excelleth ismj all the days of our life as gold exceedeth dross. As '^ the night of Israel's passover was a night to be re- membered, a theme for bards, and an incessant foun- tairx of grateful song, even so is the time of which we now Fpeak, the never-to-be-forgotten hour^of our emancipation from guilt, and of our justitication in Jesus. Other days have mingled with their fellows till, like coins worn in circulation, their image and superscciption are entirely obliterated ; but this day remaineth new. IIG THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. > :f ¥ .1 i-iiii fresh, blight, as distinct in all its j)arts as if it were but yesterday stiuck from the mint of time. Memory shall drop from her palsied hand full many a memento which now she cherishes, but she shall never, even when shetot- tereth to the grave, unbind from her heart the token of the thrice-happy hour of the redemption of our spirit. The emancipated galley-slave may forget the day which heard his broken fetters rattle on the ground ; the par- doned traitor may fail to remember the moment when the axe of the headsman Avas averted by a pardon ; and the long-despairing mariner may notrecoUect the moment when a frieiidly hand snatched him from the hungry deep: but hour of forgiven sin ! moment of perfect pardon ! our soul shall never forget thee while within her life and being find an immortality. Each day of our life hath had its attendant angel ; but on this day, like Jacob at Mahanaim, hosts of angels met us. The sun hath risen every morning, but on that eventful morn he had the light of seven days. As the days of hea- ven upon earth — as the years of immortality — as the ages of glory — as the bliss of heaven, so were the hours of that bhriee-happy day. Raj)ture divine, and ecstacy inexpress- ible, filled our soul. Fear, distress, and grief, with all their train of woes, fled hastily away; and in their place, joys came without number. Like as terrors fly before the rising sunlight, so vanished all our dark forebodings, and "As morn her rosy steps in the eastern clime, Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl," - so did grace strew our heart with priceless gems of joy. "For, lo, the winter was past; the rain was over and gone ; the flowers appeared on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds was come ; and the voice of the turtle was heard in our land ; the fig-tree put forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape gave a good smell, when our beloved spake, and said, 'Arise, my love, JKSUS PAUnONINa. 117 niy iiiir one, and conie away.'" Our buried powers, up- springing' tVoni tlicdark earth, where corruption liad bur- ied tlieni, budded, blossomed, and brought forth clusters of IVuit. Our soul was all awake to gladnt^ss ; conscience sang approval ; judgment Joyfully attested the validity of the ac(puttal; hope painted bright visions for tlie future; while imagination knew no bounds to the eagle-flight of lier loosened wing. The city of Mansoul had a grand il- lumination, and even its obscurest lanes and alleys were hung with lamps of brilliance. The bells of our souls rang merry peals, music and dancing filled every chamber, and every rooir. was perfumed with flowers. Our heart was flooded with delight; like a bottle full of new wine, it needed vent. It contained as much of heaven as the hnite can hold of infinity. It was wedding-day with our soul, and we wore robes fairer than ever graced a bridal. By night angels sang — " Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, goodwill towards men ;" and in the morning, remembering their midnight melodies, we sang them o'er again. We walked in Paradise ; we slept in bowers of amaranth ; we drank draughts of nectar from goblets of gold, and fed on luscious fruits brought to us in baskets of silver. ** The liquid drops of tears that we once shed Came back again, transform'd to richest pearl ; " the breath we spent in sighs returned upon us laden with fragrance ; the past, the present, the future, like three fair sisters, danced around us, light of foot and gladsome of heart. We had discovered the true alchymist's stone, which, turning all to gold, had transmuted all within us into the purest metal. We were rich, immensely rich; for Christ was ours, and we were heirs with him. Our body, too, once the clog and fetter of our spirit, be- came the active partner of our bliss. Our eyes were win- dows lighted up with happiness ; our feet were young 118 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. rocs bounding with pleasure ; our lips were fountains gush- ing with song; and our cars were the seats of minstrels. It was hard to contain oux rapture within the narrow bounds of prudence. Like the insects leaping in the sun- shine, or the fish sporting in the stream, we could have danced to and fro in the convulsions of our delight. Were we sick, our pleasure drowned our pain ; were we feeble, our bliss renewed our strength. Each broken bone ])i aised him : each strained sinew blessed him ; our whole tiesh extolled him. Every sense was the inlet of joy, and the outlet of praise. As the needle stayeth at the pole, so did our quivering frame rest on him. We know no thought beyond, no hope above, the perfect satisfaction of that hour : for Christ and his salvation had tilled us to the very brim. All nature appeared to sympathise with us. We went forth with joy, and were led forthwith peace ; the moun- tains and the hills broke forth before us into singing, and all the trees of the field clapped their hands. The fields, the fioods, the sky, the air, the sun, the stars, the cattle, the birds, the fish — yea, the very stones seemed sharers of our joy. They were the choir, and we the leaders of a band, who at the lifting of our hand poured forth whole fioods of harmony. Perhaps our birthday found the earth wrapped in the robes of winter, but its snowy whiteness was all in keep- ing with the holiday of our spirit. Each snow-fiake re- newed the assurcnce of oui* pardon, for we were now washed whiter than snow. The burial of the earth in its winding-sheet of white betokened to us the covering of our sins by the righteousness of Jesus. The trees, fes- tooned with ice-drops, glittered in the sun as if they had coined stars to shine upon us ; and even the chill blast, as it whirled around us, appeared but an image of that power which had carried our sins away, as far as the east is from JESUS PAR!K)NINO. 119 tlie west. Sure, never was winter less wintry than then, fur in a nobler sense than the poet* we can atHrni — " With frequent foot, riccased have T, in my cheerful morn of life, Trod the pure 8uw- els of joy. The poet * sang in another sense that which we may well quote here — • , ' 1^ ** And precious their tears as that rain from the sky, t Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea." Spiritual sorrow is the architect of the temple of praise ; or at least, like Hiram, it lloateth on its seas the cedars for the pillars of the beautiful house. To appreciate mercies we must feel miseries ; to value deliverance we must have trembled at the approach of destruction. Our broken chains make fine instruments of music, and our feet just freed from fetters move right sw'iftly, dancing to the song : we must be glad when our bondage is yet so Iresli in oui memory. Israel sang loud enough when, in the sea of Egypt, her oppressors were drowned, because she knew too well from what a thraldom she was rescued. Shush an was glad, and rest was in the city, when the Jews had clean escaped from the wiles of Haman. No Purim was ever kept more joyously than that first one when the gal- lows were still standing, and the sons of the evil counsel- lor yet unburied. We may mourn through much of the long pilgrimage to heaven, but the first day is dedicated 'Moore, + *' The Nisan, or drops of spring rain, which the Easterns believe to produce pearls if they fall into shells." -/^ii'^rtrt/son. 134 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. to feasting, because yesterday we spent in slavery. Were we always mindful of the place from wlience we came out, perhaps we should be always n^joicing. 2. There is (jiven unto vs at this iieriod a peculiar outpouring of grace not always enjoyed in after days. The heart is broken — it needs soft liniments wherewith it may be bound ; it hath been wounded by the robbers, and left half dead upon the road — it is meet that the good physician should pour in oil and wines ; it is faint — it needs a cordial ; it is weak — it is therefore carried in the bosom of love. He who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb breathes gently on the new-born child of grace. He gives it milk — the ready- prepared nutriment of heaven ; he lays it in the soft cradle of conscious security, and sings to it sweet notes offender love. The young plant receives double attention from the careful gardener ; so do the young plants of grace receive a double portion of sun- light by da}^, and of the dew by night. The light wherein for the tirst time we discover Christ is usually clear and sparkling, bringing with it a warming force and reviving influence to which we have been strangers before. Never is it more truly sweet to see the light, or a more pleasant thing to the eyes to behold the sun, than when he shines with mild and benignant rays upoa our tirst love. Grace then is grace indeed ; for then it effectually operates on us, moving us to hearty affection and burning zeal, while it absorbs the passions in one object, wrapping us up in itself. So rich are the mani- festations of Jesus to our souls at that hour, that in after life we look back to that time as " the days of our espou- sals; " so ardent are we then in love to our Lord, that in succeeding years we are are oftcin compelled to ask for the same grace, desiring only that it may be with us as in months past. Though our head shall be anointed with fresh oil everv day of our life, yet ou the first coronation morning the JOY AT CONVERSION. 135 fullest horn is emptied upon us. A mnn may have such a clear and glorious revelation of Christ to his soul, and such a sense of his union with Jesus on that beginning of days, that he may not have the like all his life after, " The fatted calf is not every day slain ; the robe of kings is not every day put on ; evciy day must not be a festival day or a marriage day ; the wife is not every day in the bosom ; the child is not every day in the arms ; the friend is not every day at the table ; nor the soul every day under the manifestations of Divine love." * Jacob only once saw the angels ascending aid descending ; Samuel did not hear from God every night. We do not read that the Lord appeared to Solomon save that once in vision. Paul Avas not for ever in the third heaven, nor was John in the Spirit every Lord's day. Grace is at all time a deej), unfathomable sea, but it is not always at ilood-tide. When we are going to our Jesus he will send waggons to fetch us to his own country — he will come out to meet us in great pomp, and will introduce us to the king; but when we are safely settled in Goshen he will love us equally, but it may be he will not make so great a point of honouring us with high days and festivals. Christ will array his chosen ones in goodly attire, and bind flowers about their brows, on tlie day of their union to him ; but, ])crhiips, to-morrow he may, for their benetit and his glory, " plunge them into the ditch, so that their own clothes shall abhor them." It ma,y be we have a greatc r sense and sight of grace at first than we do afterwards, and this is the reason of our greater joy. 8. The exceeding value of the ihliiiss revealed naturally produces a sense of unutterable delight when perceived by faith. It is no joy at a fictitious boon — but the benefit is real, and in itself of a nature calculated to excite won- der and praise. The mercies received arc discovered to be inestimably precious, and hence their springs at once * Brooks. i I' If T:ri! 136 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. emotions of joyous gratitude. He would scarce be of a sane mind who would not smile upon the receipt of a treasure which would free him from heavy liabilities, and secure him an abundant provision for life. When the naked are clothed, when the hungry are fed, and when beggars are elevated from dunghills to thrones, if they exhibit no signs of gladness, they give grave cause to suspect an absence of reason. And can a sinner receive a royal pardon, a princely robe^ a promise of a crown, and yet remain unmoved ? Can he banish hunger at the King's own table, and feel the embraces of his reconciled Monarch, and restrain his joy ? Can he behold himself adopted into the family of God, made joint heir with Christ, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven, and still behave himself coldly ? No ! he must — he will re- joice,— *' For should he refuse to sing Sure the very stones would speak.'* It is no small thing to receive a succession of mercies — all priceless, all unmerited, all eternal, and all our own. Justification in itself is a "joy worth worlds ; " but when its attendants are seen at its heels, we can only say with the Queen of Sheba, " There is no heart left in me." It is not enough that we are washed and clothed, but there is our Father's banqueting house open to us — we are feasted — we hear music — a fair crown is set upon cur head, and we are made kings and priests unto our God ; and, as if all this were little, he gives to us himself, and makes him- self our Lord, our God. Can a mortal become possessor of Christ, of his person, his attributes, his all — and can he then restrain the bliss which must find his heart a vessel all too narrow to con- tain it ? Surely sweetness is only sweetness when we dis- cern Him as our everlasting Friend — ours entirely, ours securely, ours eternally. JOY AT CONVERSION. 137 " Known and unknown, human, divine ! Sweet human hand, and lips, and eye. Dear heavenly friend that canst not die, Mine, mine — for ever, ever mine !" * Truly, the believer might be excused if at the first recog- nition of the Redeemer as his own, own Friend, he should become sick of love, or faint with overflowing happiness. Klioda opened not the gate for gladness when she lieard Peter's voice ; who shall wonder if the believing penitent should behave like one who is in a dream, and should lay himself under the imputation of madness ? Conceive the rapturous delights of the sailors of Columbus when they hailed the land, or their beaming countenances when they found it to be a goodly country, abounding with all wealth ; picture the heroic Greeks when from the moun- tain-tops they saw the flood which waslied their native shore, and shouted — "The sea ! the sea!" and you may then look on another scene without wonder — a company of pardoned sinners, singing with all their heart and soul and strength the praise of One wlio hath done great things for them, whereof they are glad. 4. At tJ bis season the f^plrit lives nearer to its God, and thus it dwells nearer heaven. The tilings of the world have less power to charm us when we have but lately proved their vanity ; the tlesh hath scarcely ceased to smart with the pain caused by the burnings of sin, and we are the more afraid of the tire ; we have just escaped the ])aw of the lion and the jaw of the bear, and, having the fear of these before our eyes, we walk very near to the Shepherd. Bear witness, ye saints of God, to the holy dew of your youth, for which, alas ' you now mourn. Can ye not remember how yc walked with God, how calm was your frame, how heavenly your spirit ! Yc never saw the face of man when ye left your chambers till ye had seen I "lu Memoriam. 138 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. the face of God ; nor did ye shut your eyes in slumber on your beds till ye had first commended your spirit to your Father in heaven. How artless was your simplicity ! how fervid your pi'ayerfulness ! how watchful your daily behaviour ! What a marvellous tenderness of conscience characterised you ! — you trembled to put one foot before the other, lest you should offend your God ; you avoided the very ai^pearance of evil ; you were moved by the faintest whispers of duty ; and all the while what a quiet state of repose your soul did swim in, and how pleasantly did you commune with heaven ! Grace had planted an Eden around you, where you walked with Jehovali amid the ti'ees of the garden. You were like Daniel by the river Ulai — the man's hand was on your shoulder, and his voice called you, " Man, greatly belov- ed." You drank out of your Master's cup, and fed out of his hand, like the poor man's ewe-lamb in Nathan's para- ble. Your eyes were up unto him, as the eyes of hand- maidens to their mistresses ; nor could you aiibrd the vain, harlot world so much as an instant's gaze. In the relig- ious shows of old times they were wont to represent Medi- tation as a fair maiden, with her yes fixed upon a book which she was intently studying; around her they placed young boys, dressed as fairies, demons, or harlequins, who, with their dancing, tricks, jokes, or frightful bowlings, sought to divert her from her reading ; but she, nothing moved, still continued wholly occupied therewith : now such were we at the young si)ringtime of our piety, when we were fir.st consecrated to the Lamb. We were wholly engrossed with Jesus, and nothing could draw us from him. His name was the sum of all music ; his person the ]jerfection of all beauty ; his character the epitome of all virtue ; himself the total sum of the riches, the glory, the love of an entire universe. " One sweet draught, one drop of the wine of consolation from the hand of Jesus, had made our stomachs loathe the brown bread and the sour JOY AT CONVERSION. 139 drink of this miserable life."* Wo were wholly lost in admiring him, and could only ask, " Who knoweth how far it is to the bottom cf our Christ's fulness ? who ever weighed Christ in scales ? " or, " Whohath seen the heights, and depths, and lengths, and breadths of his surpassing love V Here is one grand secret of our greater flight of joy at that time — we had then more wing than now, for we had more communion with God. We were living on high, while men lay grovelling below ; we were above the storms and tempests then, for we had entered into the secret place of the tabernacles of the Mo.>.t High. We bathed our brow in the sunlight of an unclouded sky, Htanding on an eminence, up whose lofty sides the clouds knew not how to climb. Did we live nearer to our Lord now, we should beyond a doubt, enjoy far more of the cream of life, and know less of its wormwood. We can- not expect to have the same enjoyment unless we be oc- cupied in the same employment. He who goes away from the tire should not ask many times why he does not feel the same heat. The young convert is in a hoi}"- frame — he is most sure to be in a happy one. Distance from God is the source of the major part of our uoubts, fears, and anxieties ; live nearer to him, and we shall be all the further from the world, the flesh and the devil, and so we shall be less molested by them. We cannot make the sun shine, but we can remove from that which may cast a shadow on us. Remove then thy sins, O weak believer, and thou mayest hope to see Him yet again ! 5. Immediately after conversion ive are eminently careful to use all the means of grace, and therefore we derive more comfort from them than in after years, when we are more negligent of them. The young convert is to be seen at every prayer meeting, early or late ; every reli- gious service, even though it be at a considerable distance, \ t\ ^ •Rutherford 140 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. m finds him as an attendant ; the Bible is seldom closed, and the season for private devotion is never neglected. In after days any excuse will enable us to be absent from Divine service with an easy conscience ; but then it would have been a liigh crime and misdemeanour to have been absent at any available opportunity. Hence the soul, feeding much on heavenly food, waxeth fat, and knoweth nothing of the sorrows of the hungry one who neglects the royal table. The young footman on the heavenly race exerts all his strength to win the race, and his pro- gress is thus far greater at first than afterwards, when his breath a little fails him, or the natural slothfulness of the flesh induces him to slacken his pace. Would to God we could maintain the speed of our youth ! we should then I'etain its comforts. We have met with some few of the eminently holy who have enjoyed a continual feast ever since the day of their espousals; but these were men who w^ere constantly fervent in spirit, serving their Lord with a diligent heart. Why should it not be so with many more of us ? John Bunyan hath well written, " You that are old professors, take you heed that the young striplings of Jesus, that began to strip but the other day, do not outrun you, so as to have that Scripture fulfilled on you, * The last shall be first, and the first last,' which will be a shame to you and a credit to them." * Oh ! that we were as obedient now as we were then to the voice of the Word from heaven, then would that voice be more sweet to our ears, and the face of heaven would not be so full of frowns. " The soul of the diligent shall be made fat," is true in spiritual matters equally v4th temporal. " Give diligence to make your calling and election sure ; for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall, for so an en- trance shall be administered to you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." He that would be rich must still continue his Heavenly Footman. JOY AT CONVERSION. 141 heed to his flocks and h is herds. It is not one venture which niaketli the soul rich ; it is continued perseverance in the business of salvation. None but lively, activo Christians can expect to feel those ravishin<^ joys, sweet comforts, and blessed deli,f,dits which follow at the heels of a healthy soul. Stagnant water never sparkles in the sun — it is the flowing brook which shines like a vein of silver ; set thy (^vacii at work, and thy joys shall marvellously in- crease. If our bucket be empty, we had better ask our- selves whether it mii^ht not be full again were it sent down into the well. Truly, a neglect of means robs us of much consolation. (). NovcUd no doubt had some hand in the singular feelings of that joyous season. As an eminent saint says, " They were new things, wherewithal I was utterly un- acquainted before, and this made them the more affecting." We have all felt the great exciting power of novelty in everyday-life, and the same influence exerts itself upon the inner life of the soul. At first, paido.i, adoption, ac- ceptance, and the kindred blessings, are new things, and, beside their own value, have the brightness of newly- minded mercies to recommend them to our notice. Prayer, praise, meditation, and hearing, are fresh exercises ; and, like a horse just brought to his labour, we are in haste to be engaged in them. " In the morning of life, before its wearisome journey, the youthful soul doth expand in the simple luxury of being — it hath not contracted its wishes nor set a limit to its hopes." The morning sun is shining on the yet glistening hedgegrows, and the dewdrops are all pearls ; the smoke of the earth hath not yet darkened the skies, and the}' are one pure fiiinament of azure. There is more than a little of the Athenian in every man ; there is not one of us who is not charmed by something wdiich has but lately come to the light of observation. True, we shall find tlie glories of the cross as marvellous in after years as they are now, but now they are so start- 142 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. Vmg: to us that we cannot l>ut ff el astonishment and won- der. As he who after a life of blindness at the first sight of the stars would naturally lift up his hands in a.mazement,so doth the man from whose spiritual eye the film hath been removed, exult in his first vision of the ln^avenly gifts of God. Never is the rose more lovely th.-in in its bud ; so fjrace is never more ixraceful than in its beu'inninfjs. The young lambs frisk in thetields — they will assume a steadier gait when they become '* the sheep of liis pasture ; " but till then let them show their joy, for it is the necessary consequence of their new-created being. 7. We .are inclined to believe that the most common cause is the fact that, at first conversion, the soul relies more simply ii.pon Christ, and looks more attentively at him than it does i)i after days, when evidences, good works, .and graces, become more an object of regard than the person of J esus. When the glorious Redeemer finds us lost and ruined in the fall — when he makes us deeply conscious of that rain — then we take him, and him alone, for our treasure ; but in future years he gives to us sundry rings, jewels, and ornaments, as love-tokens — and we most fovlishly set our eyes more upon these than upon the Givci' and consetiuently lose much of the cheering effect of a constant view of the Saviour. At the first time of love we are too Aveak to venture on our own feet, but clino- with bothour arms around the neckof Jesus ; there we find an easy carriage, which we lose when our overween- ing pride constrains him to set us on the ground to run alone. He who hath a s})eck in the eye of his faith, ob- scuring his vision of the Saviour, will find much pain re- sulting therefrom. That which removes us from the sim- plicity of our faith in Christ, although it be in itself most excellent, yet to us becomes a curse. Many of us might be willing to renounce all our experience, our graces, and our evidences, if we might but return to the former child- like faith of our spiritual infancy. To lie quietly afloat JOY AT CONVERSION. 143 iand won- st sight of zement,.so hath been y gifts of s bud ; so igs. The a steadier ire ; " but necessary comnrion oul relies ntively at ces, good ^ard than ner finds IS deeply im alone, is suL'dry -and we an upon cheering first time feet, but there we k^erween- l to run aith, ob- pain re- the sim- jelf most IS might ices, and er child- ly afloat I on the stream of free grace is the very glory of existence, the perfection of earthly happiness. No scat is so pleasant as that which is beneath the shadow of Jesus. We may fetch our spices from afar, but they shall yield no such fraf>rance as tliai which is shed from the robes of the ail-glorious Emmanuel, of whom it is written, " All thy garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia." Whatsoever spiritual joy we have which sprin//s not from Christ as the Fountain, we shall find it sooner or later bitter to our taste. The young convert is happy because he drinks only from Jesus, and is yet too full of infirmity to attempt the hewing of a cistern for himself. If we be unfaithful to Christ, we must not expect many of his smiles. It matters little w'lat is the object of our delight, be it never so lovely, if it become a rival of Jesus, he is grieved thereby, and makes us mourn his absence. " When we make creatures, or creature-comforts, or any- thing whatever but what we receive by the Spirit of Christ to be our joy and our delight, we are false to Christ." * He gave himself wholly for us, and he thinks it ill that will not give him sole possession of our heart. Jesus, like his Father, is a jealous God — he will not brook a rival He will have us rejoice only in His love, hearken only to His voice, and keep our eyes con- stantly on him, and him only. Beyond a doubt, were we in constant fellowship with our loving Redeemer, we might always retain a measure, if not the entire fulness of our early joy ; and did we labour to improve in our acquaintance with him, and our devotion to him, our joy might poss. 'ly increase to an indefinite degree, until our tabernacle on earth would be like a house built upon the wall of heaven, or at least in the suburbs of the city of God. It is no wonder that so many lose their first joy when we remember how many lose their first love. " It , * Owen. 144 THK SAINT AND IMS SAVIOUR. lu.Mv hv" snith a lioly riirltaii io iho doiililinij^ sonl, "it in.My Ih\ if thon 1i;m1s( luindcd mikI tMidi'MVourcil innic aftiM" oonnnunit V willi (hmI mikI ('oiironnil y (olJod, I lion luiu'ldcst at (his tiiin' luivo Io(>k«Ml iipw.ird, jiud seen (mm! in (^Inist smiling' njuMi tlicc, and lia\(* Inoked inward into tliy sold. Mild siHMi (in* S|iiri(. of m'.'ioo uidu'ssin;;- (o (liy s])iri( (Iim( (lion \\(m(. a stm, jm licir, an Ikmt of (iod,;ind ji, joiiddioir wi(h ('liris(. r)u( (liou liasl luiiidi'd inoiv (liim* own ciuniort (1»;\n (1»risl's lioiiour ; (lion liast inindinl (lu' blossoms an s|irini;s o[ VinuWn'i Uioro (liau Christ, tlio Foun(aiii oi' lii'o ; (liou hast miiidod (h(* ht^anis of tlio smi nioiv (han (lu* Son of i"iL;h((M)nsnoss : an«l, tluMtd'oro, it is hut a righteous thino- will) (lod to ii^avo tlico (<> walk in the vaH(\\' of darknoss, (o hiih* his fa»H» from (]io(\ and to soeiu to hi* as an (Mumuv to tlico." Li't ns kdtour thru to kco]> our (»yo siiiL!,ii\ so shall our Nvhclc ]'>u\y \u^ \'[\\\ of lii;h( — -li;4'h(, cluH'vin^' add di'li^ht I'ul hcyond what wo, can cvoii Jrram. 1(. iscniiuMUijiossihlo (o dflino (ho limit of the hapjiincss moitals nuiy (^xporiouco in th«> coiidosci nd- ini!^ oonipany of a gracious Saviour; h*t us oach sook to .soar iu(o tho loftiest aii-, that W(* may jnovo what is the joy uus]>{\'ikalile and lull of^hu-y, CiMtain it is (luit faith is tlu^ ii()hhn )ti}portion of the causes of tliis spiritual iiluMKuutmon ; the rest lie beyond the writer's limited ex- perience, or do not at this moment suu'y'est themselves. These, perhaps, are the most frecj[ueiit, and consecpiently the most a])pai-ent. Should we have a reader who has lost his llrst love, it may be he will, by these suu'gestions, be able to detect the secret robber w ho has stolen his substance. If so, we JOY AT ('(>NVKr,,i()N. 145 hcscccli liiiii, MM lio loves his own soul, In lie in cairh st lo rcnxMly tlic ovil l)y flrivin;^ onl (Imi iiisi(Iioi,-4 rnetny. (> spirit of ( av('nly Kjillicf in (Ihih I'avo.nin;^ ns on that ha.|)|)y (liiy of convoi'sion. 'IMirso {mt nwiny, iuid most of* them unknown: wt^ mnst, thcfcfiMc, Im; content (o lieli<»M some oftlitMn; find may the contrMnplation excite wonder, j^jrati- tiide, iind love. I. houhtless our Lnvd 'H'oiihl Iikjx', uh ever rcincihhn' IIkiJ (1(11/, nud re^^'ird it witli ,'in especial intei(\st; tlie,ii}i,t(;o it with ■?! 156 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. the confidence thcat they should ' be kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation,' they have therefore ' gre:itly rejoiced/ though with some mixture of heaviness (whereof there was need) from their manifold trials. But that their joy did surmount and prevail over the'; heavi- ness is manifest,for this is spoken o^'with much diminution, whereas they are said to ' rejoice greatly' and with 'joy uTispeakaV^le and full of glor}-.' " * ."f, when the believer is but a feeble thing, "carried «».v;ay by every wind," he is, despite his weakness, able to vise to raptures of joy, who shall dare to suppose him un- happy when he has become strong in faith and mighty in grace ? If the porch of godliness be paved with gold, what must be the interior of the pa,lace ? If the very hedge- rows of her garden are laden with fruit, what shall we not find on the goodly trees in the centre ? The bla<]e yieldeth much, shall the ear be empty ? Nay, " the way3 of the Lord are right," and those who walk therein are blessed. Think not otherwise of them, but as you wish to share their " last end," think well also of the way which leadeth thither. May the Lord direct his children, by his Holy Spirit, in reviewing this subject by prayer, to give all the glory of their mercies to the adorable person of Jesus. Amen. • 1 Pet. i. 5, 6, 8, JOY AT CONVERSION. 157 TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. Friend, — We have been answering questions concern- inv»\(« iho. crown luiifju^s visilil(» ns llin onicious reward ol' pri'soviM'jmcc. All lliinn's mv in llir crosN — Itv tins we <'o.h|U«m', 1>v lliis wo live, by (liis wc jvvo ]Hnili»Ml. l»y Iliis wo contimu* linn to \hr cikI. W'liilo sitt iiii;" lioncjitli tlir s1im«1ow ol" oi'r Lord, wo tliiidc oui- solvi^s most, rioli, I'oi" .'ini;i>ls soom to sliii;', " \'i' Jiro oom- ploto ill him." " (\)MlM.KrK IN IIlM 1" urooious sv ii:\".\co Ik* mado to so(^ tliat tln^v roally arc ouis — for ours tlu\y aro it" W(> auhwor to tlu* oliaraotordoscrihod in tho op^Miino' yorsos of tlio lOpistlo to tlio (\)l<)ssians. If wo liayo faith in Christ .losus, loyi* towar«lsall tho saints, and a ho]H* laid up in lu>ayon, wo may i;rasp this i;old(Mi sontonoo as all our own. Hoador, hast thou Iuhmi ahio to follow in that whioli has alroady I.hhmi dosoriluHl as tho " way which loads from hanishmont ?" Tlion thou mayosl, tako this ohoioo sontonco to thy sol f as a portion of thiuo inhoritanoo ; for woak, poor, holph^ss, unworlhy though tliou 1)0 in thysidf, in Hiw, thy Ijord, thy Uodoomor, thou art comploto in tho fullost, hroadost, and most yarled sense of that mighty word, and thou wilt he glad to nuise upon the wonders of this glorious positioii. May the Groat Teacher guitle us into this mystery of the jiorfootion of tho elect in Jesus, and may our meditation be cheeriug and protitahlc to our spirits ! As the words aro few, let us dwell on them, and ondeayour to gain tho sweets which lio so compactly within this little cell. Pause oyer these two little words, "in Jlivi" — in Christ ! Hero is the doctrine of union and oneness Avith Jesus — a doctrine of undoubted truth and unminii'lod comfort. Tlie Chiu'ch is so allied wnth her Lord that she is positiyoly one with him. She is the bride, and he Uio bridegroom ; she is tho branch, and he the stem ; she the body, and he the glorious Head. So also is every indi- COMIM.KTK TN rHIUST. 101 viiliiaJ lit'Tu'Vcr united In (Jiiiist. As Ij(!vi lay in llie loinn dj" yMnMliJini wlicn MclchisiMh^k' ]\\vi liim, ko was every helicver chosen in ( 'Inisi, and Idessed with all spiritua,) l)l(>ssin"'"s in lieavotdy places in hiin. We lia,vo lieiui spared, jiiotccted, (•()nvcr{«.Ml, jiistiHeecome one, not merely in the (\ye ;f (iod, hut in our own liappy experience — one in aim, one in lieai't, cne in lioliness, one in connnunion, and, idtlmately, one in g^)ry. This manifest union is not more real and actual than the eternal union of which it is the revelation ; it does not connuence the union, nor docs its obscurity or clear- ness in the least affect the certainty or safety of the im- mutable oneness subsisting between Jesus and the'believer. It is eminently desirable that every saint should attain a full assurance of his union to Christ, and it is exceedingly important that he should lal)our to maintain a constant sense thereof; for although the mercy be the same, yet his comfort from it will vary according to his apprehen- * Itev. JoHeph Irons, Camberwell. i ;■ \im 1(j2 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. sion of it. A landscape is as fair by night as by day, but who can perceive its beauties in the daric ? — even so avo must see, or rather believe, this union to rejoice in it. No condition out of Paradise can be more blessed than that which is produced by a lively sense of oneness with Jesus. To know and feel that our interests are mutual, our bonds indissoluble, and our lives united, is indeed to dip our morsel in the golden dish of heaven. There is no sweeter canticle for mortal lips than the sweet song, "My beloved is mine, and I am his : " — » ** E'en like two bcank-dividing brooks, That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams, And having rang'd and search'd a thousand nooks, Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames, Where in a greater current they conjoin ; — So 1 my best beloved's am, so he is mine." Verily the stream of life floweth along easily enough when it is commingled with him who is our life. Walk- ing with our arm upon the shoulder of the beloved is not simply safe, but delightful ; and living with his life is a noble ^tyle of immortality, which may be enjoyed on earth. But to be out of Christ is misery, weakness, and death — in short, it is the bud, of whicli the full-blown flower is damnation. Apart from Jesus we have nothing save fearful forebodings and terrible remembrances. Be- loved, there is no Gospel promise which is ours unless we know what it is to be in Him. Out of hhn all is poverty, woe, sorrow, and destruction ; it is only in him, the ark of his elect, that we can hope to enjoy covenant mercies, or rejoice in the sure blessings of salvation. Can we now entertain a hope that we are really hidden in the rock ? Do we feel that we are a portion of Christ's body, and and that a real union exists between us ? Then may we proceed to unfold and aj^propriato the privileges here mentioned. COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 1G3 Ye are complete in luin. The word " complete " does not convey the whole of the meaning couched in the ori^nnal word TreirXyjpMfxivoi. It is upon the whole the best word which can be found in our language, but its meaning may be further unveiled by the addition of other auxiliary readings. I. Ye are complete in Him. — Let us consider the meaning of the phrase as it thus stands in our authorised version. We are complete. In all matters which concern our spiritual welfare, and our soul's salvation, we are com- plete in Christ. 1. Complete ivithout the aid of Jeiuish ceremonies. — These had their uses. They were pictures wherewith the law, as a schoolmaster, taught the infant Jewish church ; but now that faith is come, we are no longer undoi^ a schoolmaster, for in the clear light of Christian knowledge we need not the aid of symbols : — " Finished are the types and shadows Of the ceremonial law." The one sacrifice has so atoned for ns that we need no other. In Christ we are complete without an addition of circumcision, sacrifice, passover, or temple service. These are now but beggarly elements. They would be incum- brances — for what can we need from them when we arc complete in Christ ? What have we to do with moon or stars, now that Christ hath shone forth like the sun in his sti'ength ? Let the dim lamps be quenched — they would but mock the dawn, and the sunlight would deride their unnocded glimmerings. We despise not the ceremonial law — it was "the shadow of cfood thino-s to come," and as Huca we venerate it ; but now that the substance hath ap- peared, we are not content with guesses of grace, but we grasj) him who is grace and truth. How much more highly are we favoured than the ancient believers, for the}' f :! I m •' ■ n n 164 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. by daily offerings confessed themselves to be incomplete ! They couM never stay their hand and say, "It is enough," for daily sin demanded daily lambs for the altar. The Jews were never made complete by their law, for their rites "could never make the comers thereunto perfect;" but this is our peculiar and superior privilege, that we are perfected by the one offering on Calvary. 2. We are not complete without the help of lohilosophy. — In Paul's time, there were some wl.^ thought that phil- osophy might be used as a supplement to faith. They ar- gued, contended, and mystified every doctrine of revela- tion. Happy would it have been for them and the Church had they heeded the words of Paul, and kept entirely to the simplicity of the Gospel, glorying only in the cross of Christ ! The Christian has such a sublime system of doc- trine that he never need to fear the vain speculations of an infidel science, nor need he ever call in the sophisms of worldly wise to prop his faith— in Christ he is complete. We have never heard of a dying believer asking the aid of a worldly philosophy to give him words of comfort in the hour of dissolution. No ! he has enough in his own religion — enough in the person of his Redeemer- — enough in the comforts of the Holy Ghost. Never let us turn aside from the faith because of the sneer of the learned : this a Christian will not, cannot do — for we see that eter- nal evidence in our religion which wo may call its best proof, namely, the fact that in it we are complete. No man can add anything to the religion of Jesus. Ah that is consistent with truth is already incorporated in it, and with that which is not true it can form no alliance. There is nothing new in theology save that which is false. Those who seek to improve the Gospel of Jesus do but deface it. It is so peifect in itself that all additions to it are but excrescences of error ; and it renders us so com- plete that aught we join with it is supererogation, or worse than that. David would not ffo to the fight in COMPLETE IN CHR. ST. 165 Saul's armour, fcr he had not provad it; so can we say, " the sling and stone are to us abundant weapons ; as for the mail of philosophy, we leave that for proud Goliahs to wear." One of the most evil s'gns of our day is its ten- dency to ra,tionali& n, spiritualism, and multitudes of other means of beclouding the simple faith of our Lord Jesus ; but the Lord's chosen family will not be beguiled from their steadfastness, which is the only hope of an heretical generation :; for they know to whom they have believed, and will not renounce their confidence in him for the so- phistries of "the wise and prudent." 3. Complete i.vithout the imeritions of superstition. — God is the author of all revealed and spiritual religion ; but man would write an appendix. There must be works of supererogation, deeds of penance, acts of mortification, or else the poor papist can never be perfected. Yea, when he has most vigorously applied the whip, when he has foisted even to i)hysi.cal exhaustion, when he has for- feited all that is natural to man — yet he is never sure that he has done enough, he can never say that he is complete ; but the Christian, without any of these, feels that he has gained a consummation by those last words of his Saviour — " It is finished ! " The blood of his agonizing Lord is his only and all-sufticient trust. He despises abke the absolutions and indulgences of priest or pontiff; he tramples on the refuge of lie*j which the deceiver has builded — his glory and his boast ever centering in the fact that he is complete in Christ. Let but this sentence be preached throughout the earth, and believed by the inhab- itants thereof, and all the despots on its surface could not buttress the tottering Church of Rome, even for a single hour. Men would soon cry out, " Away with the usurper ! away with her pretensions, there is all in Christ; and what can she add thereto, saving her mummeries, pollu- tions, and corrupt abominations." .';1l i I' 4' i I ! !|: t-i ii^Mifiii ;; 4. We are complete ivithout human merit, our own works being regarded as filthy rags. — How many there are who, while waxing warm against popery, are foster- ing its principles in their own minds ! The very marrow of popery is reliance on our own works ; and in God's sight the formalist and legalist are as contemptible, if found in an orthodox church, as if they were open followers of Antichrist. Brethren, let "us see to it that we are resting alone in the righteousness of Jesus, that he is all in all to us. Let us never forget that if we are perfect in him, we are perfect only in him. While we would diligently cul- tivate works of holiness, let us be careful lest we seek to add to the perfect work of Jesus. The robe of righ- teousness that nature spins and weaves is too frail a fab- ric to endure the breath of the Almighty, we must, there- fore, cast it all away — creature doings must not be united with, or regarded as an auxiliary to, Divine satisfaction. We would be holy, even as God is, but we are still confident that this will not be supplementing the great righteousness which is ours by imputation. No ; though compassed with sin and surrounded by our depravity, we know that w^e are so complete in Jesus that we could not be more so, even were we free from all these things, and glorified as the s[)irits of just men made perfect. Blessed completely through the God-man, let our unbe- lief be ashamed, and let our admiration be fastened upon this interesting and delightful state of privilege. Arise, believer ! and behold thyself " perfect in Christ Jesus." Let not thy sins shake thy faith in the all sufficiency of Jesus. Thou art, with all thy depravity, still in him, and therefore complete. Thou hast need of nothing beyond what there is in him. In him thou art this moment just, in him entirely clean, in him an object of divine approval and eternal love. JS'oiu, as thou art, and where thou art, thou art still complete. Feeble, forgetful, frail, fearful, and fickle in thyself, yet in llini thou art all that can be f .;jl* --*."■ COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 107 iesired. Thine unrighteousness is covered, thy righteous- ness is accepted, thy strength is perfected, thy safety se- cured, and thy heaven certain. Rejoice, then, that thou art " complete in him." Look on thine own nothingness and be hiunble, but look at Jesus, thy great representative, and be glad. Be not so content upon thine own corrup- tion as to forget his immaculate purity, which he has given to thee. Be not so mindful of thy original poverty as to forget the infinite riches which he lias conferred upon thee. It will save the many pangs if thou wilt learn to think of thyself as being in Him, and as being by his glorious grace accepted in him, and perfect in Christ Jesus. II. Ye are fully supplied in Him. — Having him, we have all that we can possibly require. The man of God is thoroughly furnished in the possession of his great Saviour. He never need to look for anything beyond, for in him all is treasured. Do we need forf/iveness for the past ? Pardons, rich and free, are with Jesus. Grace to cover all our sin is there ; grace to rise above our follies and our faults. Is it luisdom which we lack ? He is made of God unto us wisdom. His finger shall point out our path in the desert ; his rod and staff shall keep us in the way when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. In our combats with the foe do we feel want of strength ? Is he not Jehovah, mighty to save ? Will he not increase power unto the faint, and succour the fallen ? Need we go to Assyria, or stay in Egypt, for help ? Na}', these are broken reeds. Surely in the Lord Jehs- vah have we righteousness and strength. The battle is before us, but we tremble not at the foe ; we feel armed at all points, clad in impenetrable mail, for we are fully Bupplied in him. Do we deplore our ignorance? He will give us knoiuledge ; he can open our ear to listen to mys- teries unknown. Even babes will know the wonders of [■. ' U; i,': ! ■ (I 168 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. his grace, and child ren should be taught of the Lord No other teacher is required ; he is alone efficient and all- sufficient. Are we at times distressed ? We need not inquire for covifort, for in him, the consolation of Israel, thei-e are fats full of the oil of joy, and rivers of the Avine of tlianksgiving. The pleasures of the world are void to us, for we have infinitely more joy than they can give in him who has made us complete. Ah ! my reader, whatever exigencies may arise, we shall never need to say, " We have searched, but cannot find wliat wo require ; for it is, and ever shall be, found in the storehouse of mercy, even in Jesus Christ." " It hath pleased the Father that in him should all fulness dwell ; " and truly none of the saints have complained of any failure in him. Tens of thousands of them have drawn from this sacred well, yet is it as full as ever, and all who come to it are supplied with the full measure of their necessities. Jesus is not one single sprig of myrrh, but *•' a bundle of myrrh is my beloved unto me ; " * not one mercy, but a string of mercies, for " my beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire." " In Christ is a cluster of all spiritual bless- ings, all the blessings of the everlasting covenant are in his hands and at his disposal ; and saints are blessed with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in him. He is the believer's wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. There is not a mercy we want but is in him or a blessing we enjoy but what we have received from him. He is the believer's ' all in all ' " f Tbe woi'd translated "complete" is used by Demosthenes in describing a ship as fully manned — and truly the Christian's ship from prow to stern, is well manned by her captain, who himself steers the vessel, stills the storm, feeds the crew, fills the sails, and brings all safe to their desired haven. In every position of danger or duty Christ himself is all- sufficient for protection or support. Under every concei- « Sol. Song, i. 13, 14. f Dr. (^iH, COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 169 vable or inconceivable trial, we shall find in him sufficient o-race : should every earthly stream be dried, there is enough in him, in the absence of them all. His glorious person is the dwelling-place of all-sufficiency. " In him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily; " as the fulness of Deity is sufficient to create and sustain a universe of ponderous orbs, and whole worlds of living creatures, can it be supposed that it will be found unable to supply the necessities of saints ? Such a fear would be as foolish as if a man should tremble lest the atmosphere should prove too little for his breath, or the rivers too shallow for his thirst. To imagine the riches of the in- carnate God to fail would be to conceive a bankrupt God, or a wasted infinite. Therefore, let us set up our banners in his name, and exceedingly rejoice. III. A third reading is — Ye are satisfied in Him. — Satisfaction is a jewel rare and r)recious. Happy is the merchant-man who finds it. V/>^ may seek it in riches, but it lieth not tVere. We may heap up gold and silver, pile on pile, until we are rich beyond the dream of avarice, then thrust our hands into our bags of gold, and search there for satisfaction, but we have it not. Our heart, like the horseleech, crieth, " Give, give." We may erect the palace and conquer mighty nations, but among the trophies which decorate the hall, there is not that precious thing which worlds cannot buy. But give us Christ, let us be allied to him, and our heart is satisfied. We are con- tent in poverty — we are rich ; in distress we have all, and abound. We are full, for we are satisfied in him. Again, let us explore the fields of knowledge ; let us separate ourselves, and intermeddle with all wisdom ; let us dive into the secrets of nature ; let the heavens yield to the telescope, and the earth to our research ; let us turn the ponderous tome and pore over the pages of the mighty folio ; let us take our seat among the wise, and become K mm .?■!; '■: ;. t 170 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. professors of science : but, alas ! we soon shall loathe it all, for " much study is a weariness of the flesh." But let us turn again to the fountain-head, and drink of the waters of revelation : we are then satisfied. Whatever the pursuit may be, whether we invoke the trump of fame to do us homage, and bid our fellows offer the incense of lionovr, or pursue the pleasures of sin, and dance a giddv round of merriment, or follow the less eri-atic movements of oomraerce, and acquire influence among men, we shcall sti)i be disappointed, we shall have still an aching void, an Bwptiness wit.hin ; but when we gather up our straying desiJr«8, and bring them to a focus at the foot of*" Calvary, we f^el a solid satisfaction, of which the world cannot deprive us. Among the sons of men there are not a few of restless spirits, whoso uneasy so \h are panting for an unknown good, the want of which they feel, but the nature of which they do not comprehend. These will hurry from countiy to country, to do little else but attempt a hopeless escape from then:»ff^]ve3 ; they will flit from pleasure to pleasure, with the OT)ly gain of fi'esh gr}ef from repeated disappoint- ments, h were hard indeed to compound a medicine for minds thus di^^eaaed. Verily, the aromatics and palms of Araby, or th^ i^^ands of the &ea, might be exhausted ere the elixir ot satisfaction could be distilled, and every mystic name in the vocabulary of the wise might be tried in vain to prodnce the jill-precious charm of quiet. But in the Gospel we find the inestimable medicine already compounded, potein^^ enough to allay the most burning fever, and still the nrost violent palpitations of tho heart. This we speak from experiencne; ' we once groaned for an unt^een .something. Avhi'^k in al.! .vxr joys we would not find, and npw hy God's great love, v "^ have found the water whiolv hri,f^ r\\iench,'^c! cur thirst— i' is that which Jesus gives, " the Jiving wi:tor" of his grace tit' :,iiii> COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 171 We revel in the sweets of the name of Jesus, and Jong for nou'^lit beside. Like Naphtali, we ai e satisfied with favour, nud full of the bk ing of the Lord. Like Jacob, we ex- clnini, " It is enop<; i." The soul isancliorcd, tlie desire is " satiated witli fatness," the whole man is rich to all tlie intents of bliss, and looketh for nothing more. Allen, in hiH II e'(ve)K Opened, represents the believer as soliloquising in the following joyous manner :~"0 happy soul, how lich art thou ! What a booty have I gotten ! It is all mine own. I have the promises of this life, and of that which is to come. Oh ! what can I wish more ? How full a charter is here ! Now, my doubting soul may boldly ji 1 believJngly say with Thomas, ' My Lord and my God.' V^ u'dt need we any further witness? We have heard his words. He hath sworn by his holiness that his decree may not be changed, and hath signed it with his own signet. And now retain to thy rest, piy soul! for the Lord hath dealt bount.'fuUy with thee. Say, if thy lines be not fallen to thee in a pleasant place, and if this be not a goodly heritage ? O blasphemous discontent ! how absuid and unreasorable an evil art thou, whom all the fulness of the Godhead cannot satisfy, because thou art denied in a petty comfort, or crossed in thy vain ex- pectations from tlie world ! O my unthankful soul, shall not a Trinity content thee ? Shall not all-sufficiency suffice thee ? Silence, ye murmuring thoughts, for ever. I have enough, I abound, and am full. Inliniteness and eternity is mine, and what more can I ask ? " Oh may we constantly dwell on the blissful summit of spiritual content, boasting continually in the complete- ness of our salvation IN H]M, and may we ever seek to live up to our great and inestimable privilege ! Let us live according to our rank and quality, according to the riches conveyed to us by the eternal covenant. As great princes are so arrayed that you can read their estates in their garments, and discern their riches by thair tables, H if! m^ ii m 172 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. SO let our daily carriage express to others the value which we set upon the blessings of grace. A murmur is a ratr which is ill-suited to be the dress of a soul possessed of Jesus ; a complaining spirit is too mean a thing for an heir of all things to indulge. Let woildlings see that our Jesus is indeed a sufficient portion. As for those of us who are continually filled with rejoicing, let us be careful that our company and converse are in keeping witli our high position. Let our satisfaction Avith Christ beget in us a spirit too noble to stoop to the baso deeds of ungodlv men. Let us live among the generation of the just ; let us dwell in the courts of the great King, behold his face, wait at his throne, bear his name, show foj-th his vir- tues, set forth his praises, advance his honour, uphold his interest, and refiect his image. It is not becoming that princes of the blood .should herd with beggars, or dress as they do ; let all believers, then, come out from the world, and mount the hills of hioh and holy living; so shall it he proved that they are content with Christ, when they ut- terly forsake the broken cisterns. IV. The text bears within it another meaning — Ye are FILLED IN Him : — so WicklifFe ti-anslated it, ^* ^lut SC Iifii fiUiU i» SjJtt*'" A. possession of Jesus in the soul is a fill- ing thing. Our great Creator never intended that the heart should be empty, and hence he has stamped upon it the ancient rule that nature abhors a vacuum. The soul i | can never be quiet until in every part it is fully occupied. It is as insatiable as the grave, until it finds every corner of its being filled with treasure. Now, it can be said of Christian salvation, that it and it alone, can fill the mind, Man is a compound being, and while one portion of his being may be fulj, another may be empt3^ There is no- thing which can fill the whole man save the possession of Christ. i i COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 173 The man of hard calculation, the lover of facts, may feast his head and starve his heart ; — the sentimentalist may fill up his full measure of emotion, and destroy his understand! n«,' ; — the poet may render his imagination o-igantic, and dwarf his judgment ; — the student may ren- der hi^j brain the very refinement of logic, and his con- science may be dying ; — but give us Christ for our study, Christ for our science, Christ for our pursuit, and our whole man is filled. In his religion we find enough to exercise the faculties of the most astute reasoner, while yet our heart, by the contemplation, shall be warmed — yea, made to burn within us. In him we find room for imagination's utmost stretch, while yet his kind hand preserves us from wild and romantic visions. He can satisfy our soul in its every part. Our whole man feels that his truth is our soul's proper food, that its powers were made to appropri- ate Hivi, while He is so constituted that he is adapted to its every want. Herein lies the fault of all human sys- tems of religions, they do but subjugate and erdist a por- tion of the man ; they light up with doubtful brilliance one single chamber of his soul, and leave the rest in dark- ness ; they cover him in one part, and allow the biting frost to benumb and freeze the other, until the man feels that something is neglected, for he bears a gnawing within him which his false religion cannot satisfy. But let the glorious Gospel of the blessed Jesus come into the man, let the Holy Spirit apply the word with power, and the whole man is filled — every nerve, like the string of a harp, is wound up, and gives forth melody — every power blesses God — every portion is lightecl up with splendour, and the man exclaims — " There rest, my long divided soul, Fixed on this mighty centre, rest." "Shaddai," the Lord all-sufficient, is a portion large enough to afford us fulness of joy and peace. In him, as well as nil I 174 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. H ii Of in his houso, '" thorc is VroMd onoiigh and to spare." In the ahsenco of all oi her good things, ho is an oveiflowiiK' river of mercy, and vvlien other blessings are present, tlity owe all their vidiie to him. He makes o'ar cup so full that it riinnetli ovei*, and so he is ju.st what man's insatia- ble heai't requires. It is a fact which all men must ac- knowledge, that we are never full till we run over — the soul never has enough till it has more than enouoh • while we can contain, and measure, and number our ])()s- sessions, we are not quite so rich as we desire. PaupcrU est numerate pecus — we count ourselves poor so long as we can count our wealth. We are never satisfied tUl wu have more than will satisfy us. But in Jesus there is that superabundance, that lavish richness, that outdoing of desire, that we are obliged to exclaim, " It is enougJt — /'m filled to the brim." How desirable is that state of mind which makes every part of the soul a spring of joy ! The most of men have but one well of mirth within them ; according to their temperament, they derive their happri(?.ss from different powers of the mind — one from bold imagination, another from solitary meditation, and a third from memory; but the believer has many wells and many palm-trees, for all that is within him is blessed by God. As the wate:s cover the sea, so has Divine grace flooded every por ''on of his being. He has no '* aching void," no " salt land, and not inhabited," no ''clouds without rain;" but where once were disappointment and discontent, there are now "pleasures for evertnore," for the soul is " filled in hini." Seek then, beloved Cliristian reader to know more and more of Jesus. Think nov that thou art master of the science of Christ crucified. Thou knowest enough of him to be supremely blest ; but tLou art even now but at the beginning. Notwithstanding all thou hast learned of hiui, remember thou hast but read the child's first primer ; thou art as yet on one of the lower forms ; thou hast not yet a .^0^ COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 175 clof'ree in the sacred college. Thou hast but dipperl tho sole of thy foot in that stream wherein the glorified are now swiinmipg. Thou art but a oloaner — thou bust not at present huiidlod the sheaves with which the ransomed return to Zion. King Jesus hath not showed thee all the treasure of his house, nor canst thou more than guess the value of the least of his jewels. Thou hast at this mo- ment a very faint idea of the glory to which thy Redeemer lias raised thee, or the completeness with which he has enriched thee. Thy joys are but sips of the cup, but crumbs from under the table. Up then to thine inheri- tance, the land is before thee, wo Ik through and survey t'e lot of thine inheritance; but this know, that until thou hast washed in Jordan, thou shalt be but as a begin- ner, not only in the whole science of Divine love, but even in this one short but comprehensive lesson, " Completf IN Him.' E if ll - ': V m m ; 1 176 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. II ^*l ',m Friend, — We will ventiu-e one assertion, in the full be- lief that thou canst not deny it — thou art not entirely satisfi.ed. Thou art one of the weary-footed seekers of a joy which thou wilt never find out of Christ. Oh ! let this chapter teach thee to forego thy vain pursuit, and look in another direction. Be assured that, as hitherto thy chase has been a disappointment, so shall it continue to the end unless thou dost run in another manner. Others have digged the mines of worldly pleasure and have gained nothing but anguish and despair; wilt thou search again where others have found nothing ? Let the expe- rience of ages teach thee the fallacy of human hopes, and let thine own failures warn thee of new attempts. But hark ! sinner, all thou needest is in Christ. Hq will fill thee, satisfy Ihee, enrich thee, and gladden thee. Oh ! let thv friend beseech thee, " Taste and see that the Lord is good." ~^^ 1/ ' m fjMj «itf^ VII. ^£0vt to ^im^. ' i " Lor(^, thou knowest a,ll things; thou knowest that I love thee." — John xxi, 17, (^ HRTST rightly known is most surely Christ be- loved. No sooner do we discern his excellen- j^^ cies, luihold his glories, and partake of his j'4? bounties, than our heart is at once moved with love towards him. Let him but speak pardon to our guilty souls we shall not long delay to speak words of love to his most adorable })erson. It is utterly impossible for a man to know himself to be complete in Christ, and to be destitute of love towards Christ Jesus. A believer may be in Christ, and yet, from B holy jealousy, he may doubt his own affection to his Lord ; but love is most assuredly in his bosom, for that breast which has never heaved with love to Jesus, is yet a stranger to the blood of sprinkling. He that loveth not, hath not seen Christ, neither known him. As the seed expands in the moisture and the heat, and sends forth its green blade — so when the soul becomes affected with the mercy of the Saviour, it puts forth its shoots of love to him and desire after him. I 178 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ^H;J' m '■• Vui ' 5 , t m\\ , This love is no mere heat of excitement, nor does it end in a flow of rapturous words ; but it causes the soul to bring forth the fruits of riL,hleou,sies3, to its own joy and the Lord's glory. It is a p.Inciple, active a gcI and strong, which exercises itself unto godliness, and produces abuudant^v th* igs which are lovely and of good repute. Some of thes3 we intend to mention, ear- nestly desiring that all of us may exhibit them in our lives. Dr. Owen very concisely sums up the effects of true love in the two words, adherence and assimilation : the oneknittincf the heart to Jesus, and the other conforming' us to his image. This is an excellent summary ; but as our design is to be more explicit, we shall in detail review the more usual and pleasing of the displays of the power of grace, afforded by the soul which is under the influence of love to Christ. 1. One of the earliest and most important signs of love to Jesus is the deed of solemn dedication of ourselves, with all we have and are, most unreservedly to the Lord's sei- vice. Dr, Doddridge has recommended {i. solemn covenant be- tween the soul and God, to be signed and sealed with due deliberation and most fervent prayer. Many of the most eminent of the saints have adopted this excellent method of devoting themselves in very deed unto the Lord, and have reaped no little benefit from the re-perusal of that solemn document when they have afi'iifch renewed the act of dedication. The writer of the present volume conceives that burial with Christ in Baptism is a far more scriptu- ral and expressive sign of dedication ; but is not inclined to deny his brethren the liberty of confirnnng that act l)y the other, if it seem good unto thein. The remarks of John Newton upon this subject are so cautious and sen- tentious,* that we cannot forbear quoting them at length: — " Many judicious persons have differed in their ientiments See " Life of Grimshaw," p. 13, ■ 'ii ' h > -H LOVE TO JESUS. 179 with respect to the propriety or utility of such written en- n"a[,'etiionts. They are nsually entered into, if at all, in an early stage of profession, when, though Die heart is warm, there has heen little aftiial experience of its de- ceitfulness. In the day when 'die Lord turns our mour- in;jf into joy, and speaks peace, by the blood of his cross, to the conscience burdened by guilt and fear, resolutions are formed whicli, though honest and sincere, prove, like Peter's promise to oT.r Lord, too weak to withstand the force of subsequent unforeseen temptation. Such vows, made in too much dependence upon our own strength, not occasion a farther discovery of our weakness, but fre- quently give the e7iemy advantage to terrify and distress the mind. Therefore, some persons, of more mature ex- perience, discountenance the practice as legal and inipio- per. But, as a scafibld, though no part of an edifice, and designed to be taken down when the building is finished, is yet useful for a time in carrying on the w^ork — so many young converts hav^e been helped ]>y expedients which, when their judgments are more vi\ ^'ned, and their faith more confirmed, are no longer necessary. Every true believer, of course, ought to devote hln^self to the service of the Redeemer ; yea, he must and will, for he is constrained by love. He will do it not once only, but 'daily. And many who have dona it in writing can look back upon the transaction with thankfidness to the end of life, recollecting it as a. season of peculiar solenniity and impression, accompanied with emotions of heart neither to be forgotten nor recalled. And the Lord, who does not despise the day of small things, nor break the bruise*! reed, nor quench the smoking flax, accepts and ratifies the desire ; and mercifully pardons the mistakes which they discover, as they attain to more knowledge of him and of themselves. And they are encouraged, if not war- ranted, to make their surrender in this manner, by the words of the pro[)het Isaiah : — ' One shall say, I am the , > u. . 1 » r « i I f r ' 5 1 •I'l'ii 1 ' Nit I ■i 180 THE £->.'> AND HTS SAVIOUR. LorVs cni another shall call himself by the name of iiac<;b,&nd another shall subscribe ivith his hand to the Lord, and surname himself by the name of Israel.' "* Whatever view we may take of iJie form oi con;iecra- tion, we must all agree that the deed itself is absolutely necessary as a tirstfruit of the Spirit, and that wheie it is absent there is none of the love of which we are treat- ing. Wo are also all of us in union u\)i)n the point that the surrender must be sincere, entire, unconditional, and deliberate ; and that it must be accompanied by deep humility, from a sense of our unworthiness, simple faith in the blood of Jesus as the only medium of acceptance, and constant reliance on the Holy Spirit for the fulfil- ment of our vows. We must give ourselves to Jesus, to be his, to honour and to obey, if necessary, even unto death. Wo must be ready with Mary to break the alabaster box, with Abraham to offer up our Isaac, with the apos- tles U) renounce our worldly wealth at the bidding of Christ, with Moses to despise the riches of Egypt, with Daniel to enter the lion's den, and with the three holy children to tread the furnace. We cannot retain a por- tion of the price, like Ananias, nor love this present world with Demas, if we be the genuine followers of the Lamb. We consecrate our all when we receive Christ as all. The professing Church has many in its midst who, if they have ever given themselves to Christ, appear to be very oblivious of their solemn obligation. They can scarce afford a fracfment of their wealth for the Master's cause ; their time is wasted, or employed in any service but that of Jesus ; their talents are absorbed in worldly pursuits ; and the veriest refuse of their influence is thought to b(; an abundant satisfaction of all the claims of heaven. Can such men be honest in their professions of attachment to the Lamb ? VV^as their dedication a sincere * Isii. xliv. 5. I I-OVT^ TO JESUS. 181 one? Do they nol aiiord t>9, grave suspicions of hypocrisy ? Could they live in snch a fushion if their heai'ts were rii^ht with G'x] ? Cats they have any just idea of the Saviour's desc injc^' ? Are their hearts really renewed ? We leave tliem to answer for themselves ; but w^e must entreat them also to ponder the following questions, as they shall have one day to render an account to their Judge. Doth not God abhor the lying lip ? And is it not lying against God to profess that which we do not carry out ? Doth not the Saviour loathe those who are neither cold nor hot ? And are not those n)ost truly in that case who serve God with half a heart? What must be the doom of those who have insulted Heaven with empty vows ? Will not a false j)rofession entail a fearful punish- ment upon the soul for ever ? And is he not false who serves not the Lord witii all his miolit ? Is it a little thinjj to be branded as a roliber of God ? Is it a trille to break our vows With the Almighty? ^^^irll a man mock his Maker, and go unpunished ? And liuv shalj he abide the day of the wra'^h of God ? May God make us ever careful that, by hi.s Holy Spirit's aid, we may bo able to live unto him as those that .'ire alive fi'Gia t'lo d^ad; and since in many things We iall short '^ AiH ; orfect will, let us humble ourselves, and de- voutlj ^;ieek the moulding of his hand to renew us day by day. ^^ e ought ev( r to desire a perfect lift as the result of full coii.K; ;ration, even though we shall often groan that it is not yet attained." Our prayer should be — ** Take my aoul and body's powers ; Take my Piemory, mind, and will ; All my goods, atid all my iioura ; All I know, and all I feel ; Al! 1 think, or speak, or do ; Take my heart — but make it ne\^^." * * 0. Wesley, 182 THE SAIHT AND HIS SAVIOUR. r . u i ; !■ fi i. ' ]>•' \ ■! I iln ! :^| il ' > Tili 1. 1 ^ 1 . ! V » ; Ufl-^ ' "I.: 1 -i 1 V ,'- Ui. 1 MR I 1 pjifi: i-*"Ui*»h ! 2. Love to Chritt icill inahe us "coy and tender to offeyid." — We shall be most careful lest the Saviour should be grieved by our ill manners. When some much-loved friend is visiting our house, we are ever fearful lest he should be ill at ease ; we therefore watch ever^^ movement in the family, that notlring may disturb the quiet we de- sire him to enjoy. How frequently do we apologise for the homeliness of our fare, our own a})[)arent inattention, the fovgetfulness of our servants, or the ijdeness of our children. If we suppose him to be uncomfortable, how readily will we disarrange our household to give hiin pleasure, and how disturbed are we at the least symptom that he is not sutistied with our hospitality. We are grieved if cur words appear cold towards him, or our acts unkind. We would sooner that he should grieve us thtm that we should displease him. Surely we should not treat our heavenly Friend wci'se thaa our earthly acquaintance; but we should sedulously endeavour to please him in all things who pleased not himself. Such is the influence of real devotion to our precious Redeemer, that the rcoie the mind is pervaded with affection to him, the more watchful shall we be to give no offence in anything, and the more sorrow shall we suffer because our nature is yet so imperfect that in many things we come short of his glory. A believer, in a healthy state of mind, will be extremely sensitive ; he will avoid the appearance of evil, and guard against the beginnings of sin. He will often be afraid to put one foot before p '.other, lest he should tread upon forbidden ground ; Le will tremble to speak, lest his words should not be ordered aright : he will be timid in the world, lest he should be surprised into trans- gression ; and even in his holy deeds he will be watchful over his heart, lest he should mock his Lord. This feel- ing of fear lest we should " slip with our feet," is a precious feature of true spiritual life. It is much to be regretted that it is so lightly prized by many, in com- -ittflli^' LOVE TO JESUS. 183 paiison with the more martial virtues ; for, despite its : ^^ cirent insignificance, it is one of the choicest i'ruits of th3 Spirit, and its absence is one of the most deplorable ^'videnccs of spiritual decay. A heedless spirit is a curse to the soul ; a rash, pi'csuniptuous conversation will eat as doth a canker. " Too-bold " was never Too-vvise nor Too-lovino\ Careful walklno; is one of the best securities of safe and happy standing. It is solemn cause for doubt- ing when we are inditferent in our behaviour to our best Fi'iend. When the new creature is active, it will be in- dignant at the very name of sin ; it will condenm it as the murderer of the Redeemer, and wage as fierce a war against it as the Lord did with Amalek. Christ's foes are our foes when we are Christ's friends, Love of Christ and love of sin are elements too hostile to reign in the same heai't. We shall hale iniquity simply because Jesus liates it. A good divine * writes ; — " If any pretend unto an assui'ance of forgiveness through the merits of Jesus, without any experience of shame, sorrow, and hatred of sin, on account of its vile nature, I dare boldly pronounce such a pretension to be no other than a vain presumption, that is likely to be followed by an eternal loss of their immortal souls." He that is not afraid of sinning has good need to be afraid of damning. Truth hates error, holiness abhoreth guilt, and grace cannot but detest sin. If we do not desire to be cautious to avoid offending our Lord, we may rest confident that we have no part in him, for true love to Christ will rather die than wound him. Hence love to Christ is " the best antidote to idolatry ; "-|* for it prevents any object from occupying the rightful throne of the Saviour. The believer dares not admit a rival into his heart,knowing that this would grievously offend the King. Thf- simplest way of preventing an excessive love of the creature is to set all our affection upon the Creator. Give *Johu Brine. t James Hamilton. .)ii3 ;i!il 184j TUE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. thy whole heart to thy Lord, and thou canst not idolize the things of earth, for thou wilt have nothing left wherewith to worship them. 3. If ive love the Lord Jesus lue shall he obedient to Im coinviiands. — False, vain, and boasting pretenders to friendsliip with Chi'ist tliink it enough to talk fluently of hiin ; but humble, sincere, and faithful lovers of thu Lord are not content with words — they must be doing the will of their Master. As the affectionate wife ol)eys because she loves her husband, so does the redeemed soul delight in keeping the commands of Jesus, although com- pelled by no force but that of love. This divine principle will render every daty pleasant ; yea, wlien the labour i,s in itself irksome, this heavenly grace will quicken us in its performance by reminding us that it is honourable to suffer for our Lord. It will induce an universal obedience to all known commands, and overcome that captious spirit of rebellion which takes exception to many precepts, and obeys only as far as it chooses to do so. It infuses not the mere act, but the very spirit of obedience, inclining the inmost heart to feel that its new-born nature cannot but obey. True, old corruption is still there ; but this does but prove the hearty willingness of the soul to be faithful to the laws of its King, seeing that it is the cause of a pei'petual and violent contest — the flesh lusting against the spirit, and the spirit striving against the flesh. We are lullUng to serve God when we love his Son ; there may be obstacles, but no unwillingness. We would be holy even as God is holy, and perfect even as our Father which is in heaven is perfect. And to proceed j^et fur- ther, love not only removes all unwillingness, but inspires the soul with a delight in the service of God, by making the lowest act of service to appear honourable. A heathen * once exclaimed, Deo servire est regnare — " to serve God is to reign ;" so does the renewed heart joy- * Seneca. ^mmm LOVE TO JES(JS. 185 fullv .icknowledge tlie h'gh honour which it receives by obedience to its Lord. He counts it not only his reason- able, hut his deHijldfal service, to be a humble and sub- missive disciple of his gracious Friend. He would be un- happy if he had no opportunity of obedience — his love reiiuiros channels for its fulness; he would pray for work if there were none, for he includes his duties among his piivilcges. Tn the young dawn of true religion this is very ob^ei'vable — would that it were equally so ever after! Oh! how jealous we were lest one divine ordinance should be neglected, or one rule violated. Nothing pained us more than our own too frequent wanderings, and nothing gratified us more than to be allowed to hew wood or draw water at his bidding. Why is it not so now with us all ? Why are those wings, once outstretched for speedy tiiglit, now folded in sloth ? Is our Redeemer less deserving ? or is it not that we are less loving ? Let us seek by greater meditation upon the work and love of our Saviour, by the help of the Holy Spirit, to renew our love to him; otherwise our lamentation will soon be — '• flow is the much line gold become dim ! How has the gloiy departed !" 4. Love to Christ will impel us to defend Itim against his foes. — " If any touch my friend, or hia good name, It is my honour and my love to free his blasted fame From the least spot or thought of blame."* Good men are more tender over the reputation of Christ than over their own good name ; for they are willing to lose the world's favourable opinion rather than that Christ sliould be dishonoured. This is no more than Jesus has a light to expect. Would not he be a sorry brother who Rliould hear me insulted and slandered, and yet be dumb? Would not he be destitute of affection who would allow * Herbert. J P: li n ;{ i^iii! urn. ;1 i 186 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. the cliaiacter of his nearest relative to be trampled in the dust, without a struggle on his behalf ? And is not he a poor style of Christian who would calmly submit to heiu- his Lord abused ? We could bear to be trampled in the very mire that he might be exalted ; but to see our glorious Head dishonoured is a sight we cannot tamely behold. We would not, like Peter, smite Ms enemies Avith the sword of man ; but we would use the sword of the Spirit as well as we are enabled. Oh ! how has our blood boiled when the name of Jesus has been the theme of scornful jest ? how have we been ready to invoke the tire of Elias upon the guilty blasphemers ! or when our more carnal heat has subsided, how have we wept, even to tlie sobbing of a child, at the reproach cast upon his most hal- lowed name ! Many a time we have been ready to bui.st with anguish when we have been speechless before the scoffer, because the Lord had shut us up, that we could not come forth ; but at other seasons, with courage more than we had considered to be within the range of our capability, we have boldly reproved the wicked, and sent them back abashed. It is a lovely spectacle to behold the timid and feeble defending the citadel of truth ; not with hard blows of logic, or sounding cannonade of rhetoric — but with that tearful earnestness, and implicit confidence, against which the attacks of revilers are utterly powerless. Overthrown in argument, the\' overcome by faith ; covered with con- tempt, they think it all joy if they may but avert a soli- tary stain from the escutcheon of their Lord. ''Call nie what thou wilt," says the believer, " but speak not ill of my Beloved. Here, plough these shoulders with your lashes, but spare yourselves the sin of cursing him ! Ay, let me die ; I am all too happy to be slain, if my Lord's most glorious cause shall live ! " Ask every regenerate child of God whether he does not count it his privilege to maintain the honour of his >o^mmm LOVE TO JESUS. 187 icked, and sunt Master's name ; and though his answer may be worded with holy caution, you will not fail to discover in it enouf'h of the determined resolution which, by the bless- ino" of the Holy Spirit, will enable him to stand fast in the evil day. He may be cavefid to reply to such a ques- tion, lest he should be ])resum[)tu()us ; but should he stand like the three holy children before an enraged tyrant, in the very mouth of a burning fiery furnace, his ansv/er, like theirs, would be, " We are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us out of the burning fiery furnace, and ho will deliver us out of thy hand, O king ! But if not, bo it known unto thee, king, that we will not serve th} gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up." In some circles it is believed that in the event of an- other reign of persecution, there are very few in our churches who would endure the fiery trial ; nothing, we think, is more unfounded. It is our firm opinion that the feeblest saint in our midst would receive grace for the struggle, and come off more than a conqueror. God's children are the same now as ever. Ileal piety will as well endure the fire in one centurv as another. There is the same love to impel the martyrdom, the same grace to sustain the sufferer, the same promises to cheer his heart, and the same crown to adorn his head. We believe that those followers of Jesus who may perhaps one da}'- be called to the stake, will die as readily as any one who have gone before. Love is still as strong as death, and grace is still made perfect in weakness. *' Sweet is the cross, above all sweets, To souls enamoured with His smiles ; The keenest woe life ever meets, Love strips of all its terrors, and beguiles." * This is as true to-day, as- it was a thousand years ago. * Madame Guion. m ^, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) k /. f/. ^ % 1.0 I.I IM I2.S lio ■tt Ui2 12.2 U KB *— IL25 i 1.4 llim 1.6 V] 7] *V>^ / -^^ // '/ Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MStO (716)873-4303 m^ \ n\ - *» [\- <>;\^\ '^ "•l.^ i^*% W 4^. Ki ^ -J ►I 188 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. B* ?* Ill We may be weak in grace, but grace is not vvcak ; it is still omnipotent, and able to endure the trying day. There is one form of this jealousy for the honour of the cross, wliich will ever distinguish the devout Christian : — he will tremble lest he himself, by word or deed, by omis- sion of duty or commission of sin, should dishonour tho holy religion which he has professed. He will hold per- petual controversy with "sinful self " on this account, and will loathe himself when he has i.iadvertentlv 'Awan occasion to the enemy to blaspheme. The King's favour- ite will be siid if, by mistake or carelessness, he has been the abettor of traitors ; he desires to be beyond rei)roach, that his Monarch may suffer no disgrace from his courtier. Nothing has injined the cause of Olirist more than the inconsistencies of his avowed friends. Jealousy for the honour of Christ is an admirable mark of grace. 5. A jinn attachinent to the person of Christ will create a constant anxiety to promote his cause. — With some it has produced that burning zeal which enabled them to endure banishment, to brave dangers, and to for- sake comforts, in order to evangelise an ungrateful people, among whom they were not unwilling to sutter perse- cution, or even death, so that they might but enlarge the borders of LnmaMuel's land. This has insj)ired Uie laborious evangelist with inexhaustible strength to prc- claim the word of his Lord from place to place, amidst the slander of foes and the coldness of friends ; this has moved the generous heart to devise liberal things, that the cause might not flag for lack of temporal supplies ; and this, in a thousand ways, has stiired up the host of Goil, with various weapons and in divers fields, to fight the battles of their Lord. There is little or no love to Jesus in that man who is indifferent concerning the pro- gress of the truth. The man whose soul is saturated with grateful afi'ection to his crucified Lord will weep when the enemy seems to get on atlvantage ; he will water his LOVE TO JESUS. 189 couch witli tears when he sees a (lcclinii\i^ church ; he will lirt up his voice like a trumpet to arouse the sluuihering, and with his own hand will labour day and night to huild up the breaches of Zion ; and sliould liisetibrts be success- ful, with what joyous giatitude will he lift u]> his heart unto the King of Israel, extolling him as much — yea, 1,101-e — for mercies given to the ( Miunh than for bounties conferred upon himself. How diligently and ind^fatigably will he labour for his Lord, Innnbly conceiving that he camiot do too much, or even enough, for one who gave his heart's blood as the price of our peace. We lament that too many among us are like Issachar, who was described as " a strong ass crouch'} ne wholly surrendered to be crucified. It is the highest stage of manhood to have no wish, no thought, no desire, Vjut C-hrist — to feel that to die were bliss, if it were for Christ — that to live in penury, and woe, and scorn, and con- tempt, and niisery, were sweet for Christ — to feel that it matters nothing what becomes of one's self, so that our Master is but exalted — to feel that though like a sear leaf, we are blown in the blast, we are quite careless whither we are going, so long as we feel that the IMaster's hand is guiding us according to his will ; or, rather, to feel that though like the diamond, we must be exercised with .sharp tools, yet we care not how shai'i)ly we may be cut, so that we may be made fit brilliants to adorn his crown. If any of us have attained to this sweet feeling of self- annihilation, we shall look un to Christ as if he were the sun, and we shall say within ourselves, " O Lord, I see thy beams ; I feel myself to be — not a beam from thee — but darkness, swallowed up in thy light. The most I ask is, that thou wouldstlive in me, — that the life I live in the flesh may not be my life, but thy life in me ; that I!' ' ■. - 1 194 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. I may say with emphasis, as Paul did, ' For ine to live is Christ; " A man who has attained this high position has indeed " entered into rest." To him the |)raise or the censure of men is alike contemptible, for he has learned to look up- on the one as unworthy of his pursuit, and the other as beneath his regard. He is no longer vulnerable, since he has in himself no sei)arate sensitiveness, but has united his whole being with the cause and person of the Re- deemer. As long as there is a particle of selfishness re- maining in us, it will ixiarour sweet enjoyment of Christ: and until we get a complete riddance of it, our joy will never be unmixed with grief. We must dig at the roots of our selfishness to find the worm which eats our ha]>p;- ness. The soul of the believer will always pant for this serene condition of passive surrender, and will not con- tent itself until it has thoroughly plunged itself into tlie sea of divine love. Its normal condition is that of com- plete dedication, and it esteems every deviation from sucli a state as a plague-mark and a breaking forth of disease. Here, in the lowest valley of self-renunciation, the believiT walks upon a very pinnacle of exaltation ; bowing him- self, he knows that he is rising immeasurably high when he is sinking into nothing, and, falling flat upon his face, he feels that he is thus mounting to the highest elevation of mental grandeur. It is the ambition of most men to absorb others into their own life, that they maj- shine the more brightly by the stolen rays of other lights ; but it is the Christian's highest aspiration to be absorbed into another, and lose himseif in the glories of his sovereign and Saviour. Proud men hope that the names of others shall but be remem- bered as single words in their own long titles of honour ; but loving children of God long for nothing more than to see their own names used as letters in the bright records of the doings of the Wonderful, the Councillor. LOVK TO JESUS. 105 ' For ine to live is Heaven is a state of entire tacquiescence in the will of God, and jierfect sympathy with his pui-poses ; it is, there- tore, eas}' to discern that the desires we have just Leen describing are true earnests of the inheritance, and swa si ms of preparation fur it. Anil now, how is it with the reader ? Is he a lover of Jesus in verity and truth ? or does he confess that tlieso si"-ns are not seen in him ? If he be indeed without love to Jesus, he has good need to humble himself and turn unto the Lord, for his soul is in as evil a condition as it can be this side hell ; and, alas ! will soon be, unless i,n-ace prevent, in a plight so pitiable, that eternity will scarce be long enough for its regrets. It is more than probable that some of our readers are troubled with doubts concerning the truth of their alfec- tidu for Jesus, although they are indeed his faithful fiiends. Permit us to address such with a word of con- solation. You have some of the marks of true piety about you, — at least, you can join in .some of the feelings to which we have been giving expression, — but still you fear that vou are not ri^^ht in heart towards Christ. What is theh your reason for such a suspicion ? You reply that your ex- cess of attachment towards your friends and relatives is proof that you are not sincere, for if you loved Jesus truly, vou would love him more than these. Y^ou word your com- |)laint thus : — " I fear I love the creature moi-e than Christ, and if so my love is hypocritical. I frequently feel more vehement and more ardent motions of my heart to my beloved relatives than I do towards heavenly objects, and I therefore believe that I am still carnal, and the love of God doth not inhabit my h;.{irt," Far be it from us to plead the cause of sin, or extenuate the undoubted fault which you thus commit ; but at the same time it would be even further from our design to blot out at once the whole of the names of the living m '. VM\ TlIK SAINT AND IMS HAVIOUU. family of (loil. l^'or if our Iovi» is 1«> !)(» nKMisnrrd l»v liv^ tciuporary violonco, wo fear IIumh; is iiol om? anioiiL^ llic saints wIjo lias m)l nt, somo tiino or oIIumIjjkI an oxccssivd lovt» to ll>o «'roatnro; ami wlu) has not. o a hypouilo. I.d ii \h} ronuMnluM'od, (iMMcloro, iliat tlu' slroni,^(li of afr»'('tii)ii is ratlior to l>t» in(»asui«Ml l)y (lu» hold it has u])on the hout, than hv (ho hoai i( displays at casual (inn's and seasons I'Mavol voiy wisely ohsoivos, "As rooioIi'nl mo- tion of it. n')\y and tlu>n, huthy tlu* J('j>fh of tho root, aiiai(Mit and sensible to the soul but when it is in action." Fire may bo in the tlint, and yet bo unseen except when occasion shall Xmw^ it out. As i)r. Sibbs observes in his Sours Conflict, " Thoro is some- times «vnef for sin in us, when ^vo think thoro is none ;" so may it bo \vith love wdiich may bo thoro, bul not dis- covorablo till st)mo circumstance shall load to its .discovery. The eminent Puritan pertinently remarks : — " You may go seeking for the hare or ]>artridgo many hours, and never tind them while they lie close and stir not ; hut when once the hare betakes himself to his legs and the bird to lier wings, then 3*011 see them presently. So long I(»UU. LOVK '^O JKSUS. 197 V iiUMisnnMl l»v iis •<• o\u) imioiiir (li,, 'rli.'i.lan o\n>s^lv(t I, Mirtvlnic, u|Miii l»y|»i.(ril(v I.,. I i, \'j[ih of n (!;«(•( ion is IS ii|)()M (lie l„.{,it, iiih's ami HPjisoiis.' <'ii( j);is- '•y a vi(.l.>ni, iiK.- 'Aof j,li(' rool, {iii.l I)avi,s i]\ni if li,. nld liav(» ])I(>;i,sc,l oa .soldier than a ?•-«, faithful iji iis ho(m1 ii.>t, «lislnist ats, wliicli (rill- ^N'oitl I1k',s(> as truMjfiiliKvss of isviicv may he in Baxter tiuly oh- sihlo to tliti son I in the flint, and \n'\w^ ifc out. As 1 liero IS Houxo- tliero i.s nono ; " 0, bill not dis- to itfs.discovcrv. ^ : — " You may tny hours, anil 1 stir not ; bnt lis legs and the rts a Christian liath his ^naccs in lividy a« lion, so Ion;,', for (he most |)art, lio is ass irtd of them. Mow canyon ==**^^ His atiection is not more shicere or earnest, but it is, or ought to be, moresteadfast.and unvary ing, because experience has enabled the undei stand- ing to adduce more abundant reasons for the soul's attachment. All true love to the Redeemer is acceptablo to him, and is to us an infallible evidence of our safety in him. We are far from depreciating the value or suspecting thesinceritv of the warm emotions of the newly enlioht- ened, although we prefer the more intelligent and less in- tei'ested attachment of the well-instructed Christian. Let rone doubt the reality of their piety because they are un- able to mount to all the heights, or dive into all the depths, of "that love which passeth knowledge. A babe's fondness of its mother is as pleasing to her as the strong devotion of her full-grown son. The graces of faith, hope, and love are to be estimated moi-e by their honesty than by their de- gree, and less by their intellectual than by their emotional LOVE S LOGIC. 201 cluiracteiistics. Yet, without doubt, growth in grace is as much displayed in tlie Christian's love as in any other fruit of the Spirit; and it is our belief that this growth may in some degree be traced by the motives which cause it, just as we trace the motion of the shower by the po- sition of the cloud from wliich it falls. It may be protit- altle to dwell upon the motives which cause it, just as we trace the motives of love for a brief season, hoping for in- struction in so doing. We do not pretend to enter fully into the present subject ; and, indeed, our space prevents us as much as our incapacity. Owen's remark will be ap- propriate here:—" Motives unto the love of Christ are so great, so many, so diffused through the whole dispensation of God in him unto us, as that they can by no hand be fully expressed, let it be allowed ever so nnich to enlarge in the declaration of them ; much less can they be repre- sented in tins sl\ort discourse, whereof but a very small part is allotted unto their consideration." * In enumerating some of the stages of spiritual growth as indicated by higher standards of motive, we pray the H(jly Spirit to guide our meditations giving us profitable wisdom and gracious enlightenment. Let us commence in entire dependence upon his aid, and so proceed from step to step as he shall be pleased to guide us. We commence with the Alpha of Love, the first ripe fruit of affection. I. Love of Gratitude. " We love him because he first loved us." Here is the starting point of love's race. This is the rippling rill which afterwards swells into a river, the torch with which the pile of piety is kindled. The emancipated spirit, loves the Saviour for the freedom which he has conferred upon it ; it beholds the ag jny with which the priceless gift was purchased, and it adoicc the bleeding sufferer for the pains which he so generously en- * Chriatoloijia. 202 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. Nliiil^i Mil. I n ■ I dured. Jesus is regarded as our benefnc for, and the Loons which we receive at his hands constrain us to give him our hearts. If enabled to receive a" tlie doctrines of the Gospel, we bless the nane of our Redeemer for his free grace manifested in onr ,'election to eternal life; for liis efficacious grace exercised in callin^r us into his kingdom ; for pardon and just'ficat'on through his blood and meiits, and for everlasting secur^'ty bj^ virtue of union with his di- vine person. Surely heie is enough to cveate love of the highest order of fervency ; and if the soul should abide for ever ':i contemplation of these mighty acts of grace, without entei'ing upon the glorious surve}'^ of the charac- ter and perfections of Jesus, it need never be in want of reasons for affection. Here are coals enough to maintain the heavenly fire if the Holy Spirit be but present to fan the flame. This order of affection is capable of producing the most eminent virtues, and stimulating the most ardent zeal. It is enough for every piacticai purpose of the heavenly life, liut nevertheless, there is a "yet beyond." There are other motives which are of a higher class in themselves, although very seldom more potent in their in- fluence. This, however, is the beginning. " I love the Lord because he has heai 1 my voice and my supplication." It is his kindness toward us, rather than the graciousiiess of his nature which pihnarily attracts us. The deeds of the Saviour do not so much arouse our early admiration from their intrinsic greatness and graciousness, as from the fact that tve have a share in them. This thought at Hrst attracts all our regard, and engrosses all our meditations. Neither the person nor the offices of Christ have as yet been fully presented to the soul, — it knows hiui only in his gifts, and loves him only for what he has bestow(3d. Call this love selfish if you will, but do not condemn it. The Saviour frowned not on the woman who loved much, because much had been for- given, nor did he despise the offering of that hoart which TOUR. LOVE S LOGIC. 203 ct.or, and the boons I us to give him our } doctrines of the eeiiier for his free crnal life ; for his into his kingdom ; blood and meiits, 'union with his di- cveate love of the soul should abide ^'hty acts of grace, ve}'' of the charac- ver be in want of lOugh to maintain but present to fan ])ableof prodiiciiii: ig the most ardent d purpose of the s a " yet beyond." a higlier class in potent in their in- 112:. "I love the my supplication." II the graciousness IS. much arouse our J greatness and ! have a share in II our regard, and )r the person nor ully presented to Ls, and loves lum love selfish if you r frowned not on ich had been for- that heart which was first moved with affection at the casting out of its seven devils. Perhaps it is from a selfish reason that the infant casts the tendrils of its heart around its mother, but who would therefore despise its fondness ? Base must be tlie man who should wish to eradicate such a heavenly (rQvm because of the povert}'' of the soil in which it grew. Our love to God may even be heightened by due and wise self-love. " Thore is a sinful self-love, when cither we love that for a self which is not ourself, — when we love our flesh and fleshly interest, — or when we love ourselves inordinately, more than God, and God only for ourselves ; and there is a lawful self-love, when we love ourselves in the Lord and for the Lord."* This lawful self-love leads us to love Christ, and to desii'c more and more of his grace, because we feel that so we shall be the more hajipy in our souls, and useful in our lives. This is in some degree earthy, but in no degree sinful, or anything but holy. It is not needful that the foundation-stones should be of polished marble, they will well enough subserve ^heir purpose if they act as the underlying ground-work of more excellent materials. If it be a crime to be un- grateful, then thankfulness is a virtue, and its issue can- not be contemptible. Young beginners frequently doubt their piety, because they feel but little disinterested afiection for the Lord Jesus ; let them remember that that high and excellent gift is not one of the tender grapes, but is only to be gathered beneath the ripening skies of Christian experience. " Do you love Christ ? " i, the important question, and if the answer be a firm avowal of attachment to him, it is decisive as to your spiritual condition, even though the further question, " why do you love him ? " should only receive for answer, " I love him because he first loved me." Indeed, in the * Allen's Riches oftfie Covenant. 204 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ■ ; I Ji t > \) ^ !- '^ 1 . ■ .'J M loftiest stage of heavenly life, there must ever be a great and grateful mixture of motives in our love to our divine Master. We do not cease to love him for his mercies when we begin to adore him for his personal excellences; on the contrary, our sense of the glory of the person who is our Redeemer increase our gratitude to him for his condescending regard of such insigni Meant creatures as ourselves. Thus the ripening shock of corn can hold fellowship with the tender blade, since both are debtors to the sunshine. Even the saints before the throne aie in no small degree moved to rapturous love of their exalted King, by the very motive which some have been ready to undervalue as selfish and unspiritual. They sing, " Thou ait worthy for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us unto God by thy blood ; " and in their song who shall ever doubt that grace, free grace, as exhibited in their own salvation, holds the highest place. Oh new-born soul, trembling with anxiety, if thou hast not yet beheld the fair face of thy beloved, if thou canst not as yet delight in the majesty of his offices, and the wonders of his person, let thy soul be fully alive to the richness of his grace and the preciousness of his blood. These thou hast in thy possession, — the pledges of thine interest in him ; love him then for these, and in due time he will discovei' unto thee fresh wonders and glories, so that thou shalt be able to exclaim, " The half has not been told me." Let Calvary and Gethsemane endear thy Saviour to thee, though as yet thou hast not seen the brightness of Tabor, or heard the eloquence of Olivet. Take the lower room if thou canst not reach another, for iliG lowest room is in the hoiise^ and its tables shall not he naked. But study to look into thy Redeemer's heart, that thou mayst become more closely knit unto him. Re- member there is a singular love in the bowels of our Lord Jesus to his people, so superlatively excellent, that nothing can compare with it. No husband, no wife, nor tender- ' '!» love's logic. 205 hearted mother can compete with him in affection, for Ills love passeth the love of women. Nothing will con- tribute more to make thee see Jesus Christ as admirable and lovely than a right apprehension of his love to thee ; this is the constraining, ravishing, engaging, and over- whelming consideration which will infallibly steep thee in a sea of love to him. " Although," says Durham, * " there be much in many mouths of Christ's love, yet there are few that really know and believe the love that he hath to his people. (1 John iii. 1.) As this is the cause that so few love him, and why so many set up other be- loveds beside him, so the solid faith of this and the ex- pectation of good from him, hath a great engaging virtue to draw sinners to him." Study then his love, and so in- flame thine own; for be thou evoi* mindful that the love of Jesus was costly on his part, and undeserved on thine. Here it will be right to mention the love which springs fi-om a sense of 'possession of Christ. " O Lord, Thou art Tny God, early will I seek thee," is the vow which results from a knowledge of our possessing God as our own. As God ^ve ought to love him, but as our God we do love him. It is Christ as our Christ, his righteousness as imputed to us, and his atonement as our ransom, which at first cause our souls to feel the heat of love. " I cannot love another man's Christ," saith tlie anxious soul, " he must be mine, or my soul can never be knit unto him ;" but when an interest in Jesus is perceived by the understand- ing, then the heart cries out, "' My Lord and My God, thou art mine and I will be thine." It is worth while to be a man, despite all the sorrows of mortality, if we may have grace to talk in the fashion of a full assured be- liever, when he rejoices in the plenitude of his posses- sions, and gratefully returns his love as his only possible acknowledgment. Listen to him while he talks in the following strain : " My Beloved is mine, and I am his.'' * Exposition of Sol. Song. if I i 206 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIDUR. The giant is cleor, and my claim is firm. Who shall de- spoil n c of itwlieu God liaUi put me in possession, and doth ovn nie as the lawful he tor ? My Lord hath him- self assured me that he is mine, and hath h\<\ me call his Father my fathci*. I know of a surety that the whole Trinity are 'inine. * I will be ihy God ' is my sweet assur- ance. 0, my soul, arise and take possession ; inherit thy blessedness, and cast up thy riches ; enter into thy rest, and tell how the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. I will praise thee, m?/ God, my King. I subject my soul unto thee, O miy Glcry, in thee will I boast all the day ; O my E,ock, on tiiee will I build all my confidence. O staft' of my life and sti-ength of my heait, the life of my joy and joy of my life, I will sit and sing under thy shadow, yea, I will sing a song of loves touching my WELL-iiivLOVKD." This is a precious experience, happy is the man who enjoys it. It is the marrow of life to read our title clear ; and it is for this reason, among others, that it creates and fosters a devout ardency of affection in the soul which is the possessor of it. Let all believers seek after it. II. Akin to the love inspired by thankfulness, but rising a step higher in gracious attainments, is Love CAUSED BY ADMIRATION of the manner in luhich the worJ: of the Redeemer ivds performed. Having loved him for the deed of salvation, the believer surveys the labours of his Deliverei", and finds them in every part so excellent and marvellous, that he loves him with new force as he meditates upon them. He is altogether lovely to the soul in every office which he has graciously pleased to as- sume. We behold him as our King, and when we see the power, the justice, and the grace which attend his throne, whenw^e witness the concpiest of his enemies, and remark his strong defence of his friends, we cannot but adore him, and exclaim, "All hail, we crown thee Loi'd of all." LOVES LOGIC. 207 If his /^riV-s^^^ office engages our meditation, it is precious to view liiin as the faithful High Priest ; remembering the efhcac}^ of his meditation, and the prevalence of his intercession : or, if the ncmtle of the lyrophet is viewed as worn by him upon whose brow the crown of empire and the diadem of tlie piiesthood are both for ever placed, how becoming does it seem upon his shoulders who is wisdom's self ! In his threefold charnctei, in which all the offices are blended but none confused — all fulfilled but none neglected — all carried to their highest length, but none misused, — how glorious does our Redeemer appear ! Sonnets will never cease for want of themes, unless it be that the penury of language should com- pel our wonder to abide at home, since it cannot find varments in which to clothe its tho lights. When the soul is led by the Holy Spirit to take a clear vie>v of Jesus in his various offices, how speedily the heart is on fire with love ! To see him stooping from his throne to become man, next yielding to suffering to become man's sympa- thizing friend, ard then bowing to death itself to become his Ransom, is enough to stir eveiy passion of the soul. To discern him by faith as the propitiation for sin, sprink- ling his own blood within the veil, and nailing our sins to his cross, is a sight which never fails to excite the reverent, yet rapturous admiration of the beholder. Who can behold the triumphs of the Prince of Peace and not applaud him ? Who can know his illustrious merits, and not extol him ? Doubtless this love of admiration is an after- thought, and can never be the primary acting of new-bor'i love. The sailors rescued by the heroic daring of Grace Darling would first of all admire her as their deliverer, and after- wards, when they remembered her natural weakness, her philanthropic self-denial, her compassionate tenderness, and her heroic courage, they would give her their hearts for the manner in which the deed was done and the sjnrit 208 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ' i\ which dictated it. In fact, apart from their own .saf('ty they could scarcely avoid paying homage to the virtue which shone so ujloriouslv in her noble act. Never throughout life, could they forget their personal obligation to that bravest of women ; but at tlib same time they would declare, that had it not been their lot to have l»eeii rescued from the depths, they could not have refused tlieir heart's admiration of a deed so heroic, though they tlieiu- selves had not been profited by it. We, who are saved by grace, have room enough in our Redeemer's character for eternal love and wonder. His characters are so varied, and all of them so precious, that we may still gaze and adore. The Shepherd folding the lambs in his bosom, tlio Breaker dashing into pieces the opposing gates of brass, the Ca[>tain routing all his foes, the Brother born for ad- versity, and a thousand other delightful pictures of Jesus, are all calculated to stir the affections of the thoughtful Christian. It should be our endeavour to know more of Christ, that we may find more reasons for loving him. A contemplation of the history, character, attributes, and offices of Jesus will often be the readiest way to renew our drooping love. The more clear is our view of Christ, the more complete will be our idea of him ; and the more true our experience of him, so much the more constant and unwavering will bo our heart's hold of him. Hence the importance of communion with him, which is' to a great extent the only means of knowing him. We would here caution tlie reader to make an impor- tant distinction when dwelling upon the phase of spirit- ual love now under consideration. Let him carefully re- member that admiration of the moral character of Jesus of Nazareth may exist in an unregenerate heart, and that, apart from the love of gratitude, it is no acceptable fruit of the Spirit: so that this (In some senses) higher stono of the building, leans entirely upon the lower one, and without it is of no avail. Some pretend to admire the Pro- OUR. LOVES LOGIC. 209 ilicir own .safi.'ty ^e to the virtuo ble act. Never, iirsonal obligation same time tliey ■ lot to have heeii lavc rcf'usetl tlieir ioiigh the_y tliem- 3, who ai'c savod comer's character ers are so varied, ly still gaze am] in his bosom, llio f gates of bi-ass, /her born for ad- pictures of Jesus, i* the thought fill ;o know more of ? loving him. A attributes, and ; way to renew view of Christ, ; and the more more constant of him. Hence which is' to a m. lako an imjior- ohase of spirit- in carefully re- racter of Jesus heart, and that, acceptable fruit s) higher stone lower one, and admire the Pro- 1 nliet of Nazareth, but deny him to be the Son of God; others woivlr at him in his divine and human natures, but cannot Isy hold on him as their Redeemer ; antl numy honour his )>Lrfectexampb, but despise Ids glorious sacri- tice. Now, it is not love to a part of Christ which is the le.il work of the Sjnrit, but it is true devotion to the ( lirist of God in all that he is and does. Many manu- facture a Christ of their own, and profess to love him ; but it is not res[)ect to our ar dnted, but to the Lord's anointed, wduch can prove us to be God's elect. Seek then to know the Lord, that you may with your whole soul be united to him in affection. Come, now, lay aside this volume for an hour and regale yourself with a little of his company, then will you join with the devout Hawdvcr in his oft-repeated confession : — " In fol- lowing thee, thou blessed Jesus, every renewed discovery of thee is glorious, and every new attainment most ex- cellent. In thy person, offices, character, and relations, thou art most precious to my soul. Thou art a glorious Kedeenier, a glorious Head of thy Chia-ch and people ; a glorious Husband, Brother, Friend, Prophet, Priest, and King in the Zion. And when I beiiold thee in all these relative excellences, and can and do know thee, and en- joy thee, and call thee viine under every one of them, surely I may well take up the language of this sweet Scripture, and say, 'Thou art more glorious and excellent than all the mountains of Prey ! ' " * If you are unable to obtain a view of the Man cf grief and love, ask him to reveal himself by his Spirit, and when your prayer is heard your soul will speedily be ravished wilJi delight. " In manifested love explain, Thy wonderful design ; What meant the Suffering Son of Man, The streaming blood divine? See his admirable Portions, 210 THE SAINT AND HIS 'SAVIOUR. ■ f ■■^ ii ** Come thou, and to my soul reveal The heights and doptha of grace ; The wounds which all my sorrows heal, That dear diafigui'ed face ** Before my eyes of faith confnst, Stand forth a slaughcer'd Lamb ; And wrap me in thy crimson vest, And tell me all thy name." III. Sympathy with Jesus in his great design is a cause as well as an effect of love to him. Sanctified men have an union of heart with Jesus, since their aims are common. Both are seekincr to honour God, to uproot sin, to save souls, and extend the kinp^dom of God on eaitli. Though the sainis aie but the private soldiers, wliilu Jesus is their glorious Leader, yet they are in the samo army, and hence they have the same desire for victoiy. From this springs an increase of love ; for we cannot la- bour with and for those whom we esteem, without feelin^' ourselves more and more united to them. We love Jesus when we are advanced in the divine life, from a participa- tion with him in the great work of his incarnation. We long to see our fellowmen turned from darkness to light, and we love him as the Sun of Righteousness, who can alone illuminate them. We hate sin, and therefore we re- joice in him as manifested to take away sin. We pant for holier and happier times, and therefore we adore him as the coming Ruler of all lands, who will bring a millen- nium with him in the da-y of his appearing. .The more sincere our desires, and the more earnest our efforts, to promote the glory of God and the welfare of man, the more will our love to Jesus increase. Idle Christians al- ways have lukewarm hearts, which are at once the causes and effects of their sloth. When the heart is fully en- gaged in God's great work, it will glow with love of the Great Son, who was himself a servant in the same great cause. Does my philanthropy lead mo to yearn over LOVE S LOGIC. 211 Llyitif' men ? Is my pity excited by their miseries ? Do I piay^for their salvation, and labour to be the means of it? tlien most assuredly I shall, for this very reason, reverence and love the Friend of sinners, the Saviour of the lost. Am I so enrolit from *heir experience in an equal measuie, and none of tliem so much as they might. All the experience of a Christian is not Christian experience. Much of our time is occupied with exercises as uni)r()fltal)le as they are un- pleasant. The progress of a traveller must not be meas- uied by the amount of his toil, unless we can obtain a satis- factory j)roof that his toil was expended in the right path ; foi' let him journey ever so swiftly, if his path be full of wan- derings, he will gain but little by his labours. When we follow on to know the Lord in his own appointed way, the promise assures us that we shall attain to knowledge ; but if we run in the way of our own devising, we nerAi not wonder if we find ourselves surrounded with darkness instead of light. However, the Lord, who graciously over- rules evil for good, has been pleased to permit it to remain as a rule in the lives of his children, that they learn by experience, — and sure we are, that were we not dull scho- lars, we should in the experience of a single day discover a thousand reasons for loving the Redeemer. The most barren day in all our years blossoms with remembrances of his loving-kindness, while the more memorable seasons yield a hundred-fold the fruits of his goodness. Though some days may add but little to the heap, yet by little and little it increases to a mountain. Little experiences, if well husbanded, will soon make us rich in love. Though the banks of the river do shelve but gently, yet he that is up to the ankles shall find the water covering his knees, if he do but continue his wading. Blessed is the saint whose love to his Lord hath become confirmed with his years, so that his heart is fixed, and fired, and flaming. He with his grey hairs and venerable countenance com- mands the attention of all men when he speaks well of the Lord Jesus, whom he hath tried and proved through more than half a century of tribulation mingled with re- joicing. As a youth his love was true, but we thought it ^ : i' r 'I. ■ t i,^ :| MP 214 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. little more than a momentary flash, which would die as hastily as it was born ; but now no man can doubt its sincerity, for it is a steady flame, like the burning of a well- trimmed lamp. Experience, when blessed by the Holy Spirit, is the saint's daily income, by which he get- teth rich in affection ; and he who hath for a long time amassed his portion of treasure may well be conceived to be more rich therein than the yotmg beginner, who has as yet received but little. Would to God that we were all more careful to obtain and retain the precious gems which lie at our feet in our daily experience ! The experienced believer is in advance of his younger brethren if his experience has developed itself in a deeper, steadier, and more abiding love of Christ. He is to the babe in grace what the oak is to the sapling — more firmly rooted, more strong in heart, and broader in his spread ; his love, too, is to the affection of the beginner what the deep-rolling-river is to the sparkling rill. Especially is this the case if he has done business on great waters, and has been buried beneath the billows of affliction. He will, if he have passed through such exercises, be a mighty witness of the worthiness of his Lord, — for tribulation un- folds the delights of covenant engagements, and drives the soul to feed upon them. It cuts away every other prop, and compels the soul to test the solidity of the pillar of divine faithfulness ; it throws a cloud over the face of all created good, and leads the spirit to behold the sacred beauties of the son of man ; and thus it enables tJie be- liever to know in the most certain manner the all-suffici- ency of the grace of the Lord Jesus. Tried saints are con- strained to love their Redeemer ; not only on account of deliverance out of trouble, but also because of that sweet comfort which he affords them whilst they are enduring the cross. They have found adversity to be a wine- press, in which the juice of the grapes of Eschol could be trod- den out i an olive-press, to extract the precious oil from LOVE S LOGIC. 215 lich would die as the gracious promises. Christ is the honeycomb, but ex- perience must suck forth tlie luscious chops; he is frank- incense, but fiery trials must burn out the perfume ; he is a box of spikenard, but the hard hand of trouble must break the box and i)our forth the ointment. When this is (lone, when Jesus is experimentally known, he is loved in a higlier manner than the newborn Chiistian can as- pire to talk of. Aged and mellow saints have so sweet a savour of Christ in them th.'it their ccnversation is like stieanis from Lebanon, sweetly refieshing to him who de- lights to hear of the glories of redeeming love. They liavo tried the anchor in the hour of storm, they have tested tlie armour in t.^e day of battle, they have proved tlie shadow of the great rock in the burning noontide in weary land; therefore do they talk of these things, and of Him who is all these unto them, with an unction and a reUsh which we, who have but just put on our harness, can enjoy, although we cannot attain unto it at present. We must dive into the same waters if we would bring up tlie same pearls. May the great Illuminator sow oui' path with light, that we may increase in knowledge of the love of Christ, and in earnestness of love to Christ, in propor- tion a.s we draw near to the celestial city. We now advance to another step, which stands in strict connection with the subject upon which we have just meditated. I m ! \ y. Communion opens up another means by which love is excited, and its nature affected. We love him because we have seen him, and entered into fellowship with him. However true faithful and the tidings which another person may bring us concerning the Saviour, we shall never, feel love towards him in all the power of it until we have with our own eyes beheld him, or, rather, have laid hold on him with our own faith. Personal inter- course with Jesus is pre-eminently a cause of love, and it 216 THE SAINT ANFi HIS SAVIOUR. ! I I 13 l\ k i : SO infallibly quickens the afFcctions that it is impossiltle to live in the society of Jesus without loving him. Near- ness of life towards the Lamb will necessarily involve greatness of love 4;o him. As nearness to the sun in- creases the temperature of the various planets, so close communion with Jesus raises the heat of the affections towards him. We hope to have another opportunity of unfolding the sweetness of communion, and therefore we wdll but notice one part of it — viz., Christ's manifestations, as being a mighty incentive to affection. Our blessed Lord, at intervals more or less fi'equent, is graciously pleased to shed abroad in the soul a most enchanting and rapturous sense of his loye. He opens the ear of the favoured saint to hear the sweet canticles of i he bridegroom's joy, and softly he singe th his song of loves. He manifests Ids heart to the heart of his chosen ones, so that they know him to be the sweetest, firmest, and most ardent of lovers. They feel that he loves as a head, as a father as a friend, as a kinsman, as a brother, as a husba,nd ; they behold the love of all relationships united and exceeded in the love of Christ. They are confident that he loves them more than they love themselves ; yea, that he loves them above his own life. This tends to raise their souls towards him ; he becomes wholly delectable unto them, and is enshrined upon the highest throne of their hearts. Possessed with a eense of the love of their dying Lord, they feel that had they a heart as wide as eternity, it could not contain more love than they desire to give him. Thus are they impelled to daring service and patient suffering for his sake. " There is a power in this love which conquers, captivates, and overpowers the man, so that he cannot but love. God's love hath a generative power; our love is brought forth by his love."* Say, poor soul, what get you in Christ whenever you go to *R. Erskine. ii I LOVE S LOGIC. 217 him ? Can you not say, Oh ! I get more love to him than I had before ; 1 never approached near to him but I gained a laro-e draught and ample fill of love to God. Out of his fulness we receive grace for grace, and love for love. In a word, by faith we behold the glory of the Lord as in a fr-lnss, and are changed into the same image — and the rmaeliever's heart, fie adores him in all the attributes of his Gcjd-head, as very God of very God — Eternal, Infinite, Almighty, Immutable. He bows Ijofore him as " God over all, blessed for ever," and pays him loving homage as the everlasting father, the Prince of Peace ; and at the same time he delights to con- sider him as the infant of Bethlehem, the Man of sorrows, the Son of man, bone of our bone and fiesh of our flesh, tempted in all points like as we are, and owning kindred with the ehihlren of men. As man yet God, creature yet creator, infant and Infinite, despised yet exalted, scourged though Omnij^otant, dying yet eternal, — our dear Re- deemer nnist ever be the object of wondering affection, \.\'a, when faith is dim and the Christian is in doubt as to his possession of his Lord, he will at times be able to feel that his thoughts of his Master's person are as high as ever. " Though he slay me, I must love him. If he will not look upon mo, I cannot but bless him still. He is good and glorious, even though he damn me forever. I must speak well of him, even if he will not permit me to hope in his mercy; for he is a glorious Christ, and I will not deny it though he should now shut up his bowels against an un- 220 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ri ii H f 1 worthy cieaturelike myself." This is the sentiment of tlic quickened child of God, when his heart is thoroughly occu- pied with a full and faithful view of his Divine Lord. the savour of the name of Jesus, when heard by the ear which has been opened by the Spirit ! O the beauty of the [)erson of Jesus, when seen with the eye of faith by the illumination of the Holy One of Israel ! As the liglit of the morning, when the sun ariseth, " as a morning with- out clouds," is our Well-Beloved unto us. The sight of the burning bush made Moses put off his shoes, but the transporting vision of Jesus makes us put off all the world. When once he is seen we can discern no beauties in all the creatures in the universe. He, like the sun, hath absorbed all other glories into his own excessive briorhtness. This is the pomegranate which love feeds up- on, the flagon wherewith it is comforted. A sight of Jesus causes such union of heart with him, such goings out of the affections after him, and such meltings of the spirit towards him, that its expressions often appear to carnal men to be extravagant and forced, when they are nothing but the free, unstudied, and honest effusions of its love. Hence it is that the Song of Solomon has been so frequently assailed, and has had its right to a place in the canon so fiercely disputed. The same critics would deny the piety of Rutherford, or the reverence of Her- bert. They are themselves ignorant of the divine passion of love to Jesus, and therefore the language of the enrap- tured heart is unintelligible to them. They are poor translators of love's celestial tongue who think it to bo at all allied with the amorous superfluities uttered by carnal passions. Jesus is the only one upon whom the loving be- liever has fixed his eye, and in his converse with his Lord he will often express himself in language which is meant only for his Master's ear, which workllings would utterly contemn could they but listen to it. Nevertheless love, like wisdom, is "justified of her children." LOVE S LOGIC. 221 Heaven itself, althoUj_,h it be a fertile land, flowing with milk and honey, can produce no fairer tiower than the Rose of Sharon ; its highest joys mount no higher than the head of Jesus ; its sweetest bliss is found in his name alone. If we would know heaven, let us know Jesus ; if we would be heavenly, let us love Jesus. Oh that we were perpetually in his company, that our hearts uiicht ever be satisfied with his love ! Let the young be- liever seek after a clear view of the person of Jesus, and then let him implore the kindling fire of the Holy Spirit to lio-ht up his whole soul with fervent affection. Love to Jesus is the basis of all true piety, and the intensity of this love will ever be the measure of our zeal for his olory. Let us love him with all our hearts, and then diligent labour and consistent conversation will be sure to follow. ! 1 VII. Relationship to Christ, when fully felt and realized, produces a peculiar warmth of afiection towards Him. The Holy Spirit is pleased, at certain favoured seasons, to open up to the understanding and reveal to the atfecti(jns the nearness of Jesus to the soul. At one time we are blessed with a delightful sense of brotherhood with Christ, " The man is thy near kinsman," sounds like news from a far country. " In ties of blood with sinners one," rinjjs in our ears like the music of Sabbath-bells. We had said, like the spouse, " that thou wert as my brother!" and lo ! the wish is gratified. He stands be- fore us in all his condescension, and declares he is not ashamed to call us bi'cthren. Unveiling his face, he re- veals himself as the Son of man, our kinsman near allied by blood. He manifests himself to our rejoicing spirit as " the first-born among many brethren," and he reminds us that we are "joint-heirs with him," although he is " heir of all things." The fraternity of Jesus cannot fail to quicken us to the most ardent affection, and when he 222 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. " b 5 \ himself thus confesses the relationship, our soul is melted at his speech. That sweet rame " brother " is like pev- lume to the believer, and when he lays hold upon it, it imparts its fi'ayrance to him. We have sometimes had such a sense of satisfaction in meditation upon tliLs heavenly doctrine, that we counted all the honours and glories of this world to be but hhss compared with the ex- cellency of it. For this one fact of brotherhood with Christ we could have bartered crowns and empires, and have laughed at the worldly barterer as a fool, infinitely more mad than Esau when he took a pitiful mess of pottage as the purchase- price of a mighty birthright. God the Holy Ghost has made the fulness of the doctrine cf the relation- ship of Jesus roll into our soul like a I'iver, and we have been entirely carried away in its wondrous torrent. Our thoughts have been entirely absorbed in the one transcen- dently glorious idea of brotherhood with Jesus, and then the emotions have arisen with great vehemence, and we have pressed Him to our bosom, have wept for joy upon his shoulder, and have lost ourselves in adoring love of him who thus discovered himself as bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh. We feel we must love our brother, even nature joins her voice with grace to claim the entire heart ; and verily, in seasons of such gracious manifesta- tions, the claim is fully met, and the right gladly acknow- ledofed. Another delightful relationship of the Lord Jesus is that of Husband, and here he iis indeed to be beloved. Young Christians are married to Christ, but they have not in most cases realized the gracious privilege ; but the more enlightened believer rejoices in the remembrance of the marriage union of Christ and his spouse. To him the affection, protection, provision, honour, and intimacy in- volved in the divine nuptials of the blessed Jesus with his elect are well-springs of constant joy. " Thy Maker is thy Husband " is to him a choice portion of the Woid, and LOVE S LOGIC. 223 he feasts upon it day and night, when the gracious Spirit is pleased to enable him to lay hold upon it by faith. A traiHjuil, confident frame will immediately result from a satisfactory pei'suasion of this glorious truth, and with it there will be a fervency of affection and a continued union of heart to Christ Jesus, which is hardly attainable in any other manner. In his conjugal relation to his Church, the Lord Jesus takes great delight, and desires that he should see the •vjory of it. He would have us consider him in the act of betrothing and espousing his Church unto himself : " Go forth," saith he, " ye daughters of Jerusalem, and behold King Solomon with^ the crown wherewith his mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart."* '' It is the gladness of the heart of Christ, and the joy of his soul, to take poor sinners into relation with himself ;""i* and if so, it cannot fail to be an equal source of rejoicing to those who are thus favoured. Meditate much on thy divine relationships, and thine heart shall be much warmed thereby. yill. A persuasion of our Union to Jesus must also stir up the passi(ms to a holy flame. We are, by the decree of God, made one with our Covenant Head the Lord Jesus. From before all worlds this eternal union was most firmly settled upon a substantial basis ; but our personal know- ledge of it is a thing of time, and is vouchsafed to us in the appointed season by God the Holy Ghost, How swiftly doth the heart pursue its Lord when it has learned its oneness to Him ! What man will not love his own flesh ? who will not love him>ielf ? Now, when the soul perceives the indissoluble union which exists between it- Belf and the Saviour, it can no more resist the impulse of affection than a man can forbear to love his own body. * Sol. Suiig iii. 11. t Owen. 224 TUE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. •'i f:m\% ]m It is doubtless a high attainment in the divine life to Lo fully possessed with a sense of vital union to Christ, and hence the love arising from it is of a })ecu]iarly rich and vehement character. Some pastures give richness to tlio flesh of the cattle which feed upon them : truly this is a fat pasture, and the affection which feedeth u})on it cannot be otherwise than excellent to a superlative degree. In fine, as an abiding sense of oneness with the Loid is one of the sweetest works of the Spirit in the souls of the elect, so the love springing therefrom is of the very hioh- est and most spiritual nature. None can surpass it ; yea, it is questionable whether so high a degree of affection can be attained, by any other means, however forcible and inflaming. But set it down as a rule that we ought never to halt or sit down in any attainment of nearness to Je^iis until we have brought it to such a measiu'e that no more can be enjoyed, and until we have reached the utmost possible height therein. If there be an inner chamber in which the king doth store his choicest fruitr;, let us enter, for he bids us make free w4th all in his house ; and if there be a secret place where he doth show his loves, let us hasten tlntljcr and embrace him whom our soul loveth, and there let us abide until we see him face to face in the upper skies. But what will be the love of heaven ? Here we utterly fail in description or conception. The best enjoyments of Christ on earth are but as the dipping our finger m water for the cooling of our thirst ; but heaven is bathing in seas of bliss : even so our love here is but one drop of the same substance as the waters of the ocean, but not comparable for magnitude or depth. Oh, how sweet ii will be to be married to the Lord Jesus, and to enjoy for ever, and without any interruption, the heavenly delights of his society ! Surely, if a glimpse of him melteth our soul, the full fr-uition of him will be enough to burn us up with affection. It is well that we shall have more noble LOVE'S LOGIC. 225 frames in heaven than we have here, otherwise we shuuld die of love in the very land of life. An honoured saint was once so ravished with a revelation of his Lord's love, tliat feeling his mortal frame unable to sustain more of such bliss, he cried, "Hold, Lord, it is enough, it is enough !" But there we shall be able to set the bottondess well of love to our lips, and drink on for ever, and yet feel no weakness. Ah, that v/ill be love indeed which shall over- flow our souls for ever in our Father's house above ! Who can tell the transpoi-ts, the raptures, the amazements of deli'dit which that love shall beget in us ? and who can oues!j the sweetness of the song, or the swiftness of the obedience which will be the heavenly expressions of love made perfect ? No heart can conceive the passing bliss which the saints shall enjoy when the sea of their love to Christ, and the ocean of Christ's love to them, shall meet each other, and raise a very tempest of delight. The dis- tant prospect is full of joy : what must be the fruition of it? To answer that question we must wait all the days of our appointed time till our change come, unless the Lord himself should suddenly appear in the clouds to gloi-ify us with himself throughout eternity. Beloved fellow-heirs of the same inheritance, we have thus reviewed some of the causes and phases of the Chris- tian grace of love ; let us now ask ourselves the question, How is it with our love ? Is it hot or cold ? Is it decay- ing or increasing ? How stands the heart, God-ward and Christ-ward ? Is it not far too slow in its motions, too chilly in its devotion ? We must admit that it is so. Let us use the various arguments of this chapter as levers for lifting our heavy hearts to greater heights of aiTection, and then let us unitedly cry — ** Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers ; Come, shed abroad the Saviour's love, And that shall kindle ours." 226 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. It may be that the sneering critic has been oli'endcd with all this discourse concerning love, and has tinned upon his heel, protesting with vehemence that he is of ti ])hiloHophic spirit, and will never endure such sickly senti- mentalism. To him religion is thought, not emotion. It is a cjld, speculative, unfeeling divinity wdiicli he believes, and its efiects upon his mind are the reverse of enthu- siastic. Reason, "heavenly Reason," is his God, and Feeling must lie dormant beneath the throne of iiis great deity. We beg to remind him that tin religion of the cross was intended to stir the soul with deep emotion, and that where it is truly received it accomplishes its end ; but that if the passions be not moved by it, there is a strong pii- sumption that it has never been in true operation. Wu do not wonder that, to the man who views religion as a mere compendium of truths for the head, it is a powerless thing, for it is intended to work in another manner. Wine may serve to cheer the heart, but who would expect to feel its exhilarating influence by pouring it upon his head. The holy Gospel makes its first appeal to man's heart, and until it be heard in that secret chamber it is not heard at all. So long as mere reason is the only listener, the melody of the cross will be unheard. Charm we never so wisely, men cannot hear the music unt'^ the ears of the heart are opened. Vinet* has thus expressed himself upon this subject : — " Ah ! how can reason, cold reason, comprehend such a thing as the substitution of the in- nocent for the guilty ; as the compassion which reveals itself in severity of punishment in that shedding of blood, without which, it is said, there can be no expiation ? It will not make, I dare affirm, a single step towards the knowledge of that divine mystery, until, casting away its ungrateful speculations, it yields to a stronger power the task of terminating the difficulty. That power is the *See his Vital Christianity. >IJR. LOVES LOGIC. 227 IS boon oli'endcil and lias turned ) tliat he is of a ucli sickly sunti- not emotion. It hich ho buliuvcs, evei'so of enthu- od, and Feeling ' liis great deity, of the cross was lotion, and that ts end ; but that s is a strong p re- operation. We ws religion as a it is a powerless r manner. Wine would expect to it upon his head. man's heart, and t is not heard at dy listener, the arm we never so the ears of the pressed himself on, cold reason, ition of the in- 1 Avliich reveals edding of blood, expiation ? It /cp towards the casting away its 3nger power the xt power is the heart, which fixes itself eniirely on the love that shines forth in the work of redemption ; cleaves without dis- traction to the sacrifice of the adorable victim : lets the natural impression of that imjmralleled love })enetrate freely, and develop itself gradually in its interior. Oh, how quickly, then, are the veils torn away, and the shadows dissipated forever ! How little dittieulty does he who loves find in comprehending love !" To the heart :dl divine mysteries are but simplicities, and when reason is measuring the apparently inaccessible heights, love is already shouting on the summit. Let the cold calculating worshipper of intellect reserve his sneers for himself. Ex- ])erience is one of the highest of sciences, and the emotions claim a high precedence in the ex[)erience which is from God. That which these boasters contenm as an old wives' story, is not one half so contemptible as themselves — yea, more, the pious feelings at which they jeer are as much beyond their highest thoughts as the sonnets of angels excel the gruntings of swine. ' It has become fashionable to allow the title of " intel- lectual preachers" to a class of men, whose passionless es- says are combinations of nietaphvsical quibbles and her- etical doctrines ; who are shocked at the man who excites his hearers beyond the freezing-point of insensibility, and are quite elated if they hear that their homily could only be understood by a few. It is, however, no question whether these men deserve their distinctive title ; it may be settled as an axiom that falsehood is no intellectual feat, and that unintelligible jargon is no evidence of a cultured mind. There must he in our religion a fair pro- portion of believing, thinking, understanding, and dis- cerning, but there must be also the preponderating infiu- ences of feeling, loving, delighting, and desiring. That religion is worth nothing which has no dwelling in man but his brain. To love much is to be wise ; to grow in affection is to grow in knowledge, and to increase in ten- 228 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. der attachment is to be making high proficiency in divine thinsfs. Look to thy love, O Christian ! and let the carnal revile thee never so much, do thou persevere in seeking to walk with Christ, to feel his love, and triumph in his grace. liiiiii ■•;;' * *»v ♦ ieiicy in divine LOVES LOGIC. 229 TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. VI Friexd, — This time we will not preach the terrors of the law to thee, although they are thy deserts. We wish thee well, and if threatening will not awaken thee, we will try what wooing may accomplish, and oh ! may the Holy Spirit bless the means to thy soul's salvation. The Lord Jesus hath purchased unto himself a number beyond all human count, and we would have thee mark who and what they were by nature. The blood-bought ones, before their regeneration, were in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity ; the}^ were aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and stran- gers from the covenants of promise ; they had chosen to themselves other gods, and were joined to idols ; they walked according to the course of this world, according to the Prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience ; they were pol- luted in their blood, cast out in the open field to perish ; they were despisers of God, in league with hell and in cov- enant with Death ;, but nevertheless they were chosen, were redeemed, and have received the glorious title of Sons and Daughters. Now, Friend, if free grace has done thus with one and another, why should it not accomplish the same for thee ? Dost thou feel thy deep necessities ? Do thy bowels yearn for mercy ? Art thou made willing to be saved in God's way ? Then be of good cheer. The promise is thine, the blood of Jesus was shed for thee, the Holy Spirit is at work with thee, thy salvation draweth nigh. , 230 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 'r UuM He that calleth upon the name of the Lord shall he saved. Thy cries shall yet be heard, since fchey come from a broken heart and a contrite spirit. Hemember, faith in Jesus alone can give thee peace. But art thou still haid and stolid, still brutish and worldly ? Then, permit the writer to weep over thee, and bring thy case before the Lord his God. Oh that the Lord would melt thee by the fire of his word 1 Oh that he would break thee with his hammer, and humble thee at his feet ! Alas for thee, unless this be done ! Oh that omnipotent grace would snatch thee from the ruin of the proud, and deliver thy feet from going down into the pit ! Miserable man ! a brother's heart longeth after thee, and fain would see thee saved. Oh, why art thou so indiffer- ent to thyself when others can scarce refrain from tears on thy behalf ! By thy mother's prayers, thy sister's tears, and thy father's anxieties, I beseech thee give a reason for thy sottish indifference to thine eternal welfare. Dost thou come to thyself, dost thou now exclaim, " I will arise and will go to my Father ? " Oh, be assured of a welcome reception, of gladsome entertainment, and loving acceptance. " From the Mount of Calvary, Where the Saviour deigned to die, , What melodious sounds 1 hear, Bursting on my ravished ear ! — Love's Redeeming work is done ! COMP}, AND WELCOME, SINNER, COME. " Now behokl the festal board, Witli its ricliest dainties stored ; To thy Father's bosom pross'd. Once a^ain a child confess'd. From ^lis house no more to roam ; COMEJ AND WELCOME, SINNER COME." . IX. Mmt^ in Hit ftour ttf Sr0ublc. " Who passing throtigh the valley'of Baca make it a woU ; the rain also filleth the pools." — Ps. Ixxxiv. 6. ILGRIMAGE to an appointed sliiine seems to be an essential part of most religions. The tribes of Israel made yearly journeys to Jeru salera, that at one o-reat altar thev miofht sac- rifice unto the Lord their God. Borrowing the idea, probably, from the Jews, we find false re- ligions inculcating the same. The disciples of Brahma are required to undertake long and pain- ful journeys to the temple of Juggernaut, or to the banks of their sacred river, the Ganges. The Mahometan has his Keljla of worship ; and, if he be thoroughly a devout follower of the false prophet, once in his life, offer his petitions at Mecca. And who has not heard of the palmer ])lodding his weary way to the Holy Sepulchre, or of the Canterbury pilgrim going to the tomb of Thomas A'Bocket ? But the religion of God, the revelation of our most merciful Father, does not thus deal with m.?n. It pres- cribes no earthly pilgrimage. It knows nothing of local restrictions. It declares that " neither in this mountain 232 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. -.1 nor yet at Jerusalem shall men worship the Father ; " that " God is a spirit," everywhere present, and as a spirit " must be worshipped," not merely by outward acts, but " in spirit and in truth." Yet "' pilgrimage " is one of the leading ideas of Christ- ianity. Every Christian is mystically a pilgrim. His rest is not here. He is not a citizen of earth. Here he has no abiding city. He journeys to a shrir^e unseen by mortal eye, whither his fathers have arrived. This life- journey is his one incessant occupation. He came into the world that he might march through it in haste. He is ever a pilgrim, in the fullest and truest sense. Nothing can be more pleasing to a thoughtful Christian than marking the footsteps of the flock, and tracing the track they have left in the blood-besprinkied way. Thus the geogra[>hy of Christian life becomes an interesting study. To enter the wicket-gate, to sit in the arbour on the hillside, to lie in the chamber of peace in the House Beautiful, to stand on the Delectable Mountains, or walk among the spice beds of the land of Beulah, yields far sweeter pleasure than fairy dreams, or tales coloured by fancy, whispered by the lips of music. There are many fair and enchanting spots in the high- way of salvation-r-spots which angels have visited, and which the saints have sighed to behold again and again. But some other parts of the way are not so inviting ; we love not to enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, nor to approach the mountains of the leopards, nor the lions' dens, yet must all of them be passed. It is a precious mercy that Jesus, the heavenly Friend, is willing and able to acconipany us in all our journey- ings, and is the consolation of our souls in pei-iods of blackest woe. After surveying the Valley of Baca, noticing the toilsome effort of the pilgrims in digging wells therein, and remarking the heavenly suirply with which the pools are filled, we shall consider the grace of ouv JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 233 Lord Jesus as exhibited to his people in their sorrowful passage through this Vale of Tears. I. The Valley of Baca. The best description given of the Valley of Baca seems to be, that it was a defile through w4iich a portion of the tribes had to pass on their iourney to the city of their solemnities. It was a place noted for its dryness, and thei'efore pits were digged therein for the purpose of holding rain-water for the thirsty wayfarers as they passed through it. But, prob- ably, the Psalmist looked uot so much at the place as at its name, wdiich signifies "Valley of Sorrow^, or Tears." The Septuagint translates it, " Valley of Lamentation," and the Latin Vulgate, " Vale of Tears." We may therefore read the verse thus : — " Who passing through the Vale of Tears make it a well," «fec. Of this valley we may observe, first, It is much frcqueyited. The way to Zion lies through its o-looms. Many of God's chosen ones are carried from the breast to glor}^, and thus escape this dreary place, but all the rest of God's children must pass through it. Frequent are their sojournings in this "house of mourning." Not once nor twice, b it many a time must they tread this val- ley. As numerc is as their days are the causes of their griefs. The molestations of disease, the disappointments of business, the losses of adversity, and the havocs of death, combining with a thousand other ills, furnish enough material for the much tribulation through which we inherit the kingdom. All men have their times of sadness, but some seem to be always in the deep waters — their lives, like Ezekiel's roll, seem written within and without with lamentations. Tliey can just dimly recol- lect ha|)pier days, but those ' are past long ago. They have for some time be the children of grief. They seldom cat a crust unmoistened by a tear. Sorrow's wormwood is their daily salad. Perhaps some sudden calamity has snatched away the gourd which covered their hend, and, 234 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. J onah-like, they think th ey do well to be an^r y even unto death. A haze, dark and heavy, hangs like a pall befoie their eyes, and clothes life's sceneiy with sadness and gloom. Some are associated with ungodly partners, by whose unkindness their days are made bitter, and their lives a burden. Various are the causes of grief. The chains of melancholy differ in their size and material. Bound in affliction and iron^ art thou saying, " He hath made my chain heavy ? " Oh, child of grief, remember the vale of tears is much frequented ; thou art not alone in thy distress. Sorrow has a numerous family. Say not, I am the man that has seen affliction, for there be others in the furnace with thee. Remember, moreover, the King of kings once went through this valley, and here he obtained his name, " the man of sorrows," for it was while passing through it he became ** acquainted with grief." But, blessed be God, all his people are not thus clad in sackcloth and filled with bitterness. Some of them can sing for joy of heart, and, like the lark, rise to heaven's gates, carolling notes of praise. Yet, be it observed, there is not one who has not had his valley of Baca. He of flashing eye and cheerful countenance was once walking in its dark ar]d dreary paths. He who danced before the ark had cried out of the depths unto the Lord. He whom you heard in prayer, with free heart blessing his Maker, was lately in his bed-chamber, crying out with Job, " that my grief were weighed ! " and with Jeremiah, " He hath filled me with bitterness, and made me drunken with wormwood." Oh, mourner, say not that thou art a target for all the arrows of the Almighty ; take not to thyself the pre- eminence of woe ; for thy fellows have trodden the valley too, and upon them are the scars of the thorns and briars of the dreary pathway. R. JESUS IN THE HOUR OP TROUBLE. 235 n^ry even unto ie a pall befoie h sadness and [y partners, by itter, and their of grief. The 5 and material, ing, " He hatli fi'iei, remember 11 art not alone s family. Say )n, for there be nber, moreover, valley, and here )ws," for it was .cquainted with not thus clad in ne of them can ise to heaven's observed, there : Baca. He of IS once walking need before the 3rd. He whom sing his Maker, with Job, " Jeremiah, " He le drunken with target for all thyself the pre- dden the valley orns and briars Secondly, this valley is exceedingly uniileasant to flesh and blood. We love to ascend the moiratains of myrrh and hills of frankincense, rather than to descend into this dismal region. For tribulation is not joyous, but grievous. Disguise sorrow as we may, it is sorrow still. No pilgrim ever wished to enter here for its own sake, though there have been many who have rejoiced in the midst of its darkest and most gloomy paths. Now, let us briefly con- sider why this valley is so unpleasant to heaven-bound travellers. It is so because we can find no rivers of water in it. Earthly joys are continually failing us ; and creat- ed cisterns, one after another, are dried up. A hot, dry wind steals away every drop of comfort, and, hungry and thirsty, our soul fainteth in us. No fruit of sweetness grows here. It well answers the description of Watts ; — " ]t yields us no supply, No cheering fruits, no wholesome trees, Nor streams of living joy." Many rich mercies are here received by pilgrims, but these are not the fruits of the place itself, but the gifts of heaven. It is, moreover, disagreeable travelling in this valley, be- cause the way is rough and rugged. In some parts of the Christian journey we are led into green pastures beside the still waters; but this valley is thorny, stony, and flinty, and every way uncomfortable. True, there are many labourers, called promises, ever at work breaking the stones, and helping passengers over its most dif- ficult places ; but notwithstanding this aid, journeying through it is very roug'u work for all, but especially for those pilgrims who are weak, and ready to halt. It is also frequently very dark. The vale of tears is very low, and descends far beneath the ordinary level ; some parts of it, indeed, are tunnelled through rocks of anguish. A trequent cause of its darkness is that on either side of the valley there are high mountains, called the mountains of 236 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. '■ f 1! .IMi ?.!•■ ■ t' sin. These rise so high that they obscure the light of the sun. Behind these Andes of guilt God hides his face, and we are troubled. Then how densely dark the pathway becomes ! Indeed, this is the very worst thing that can be mtiitioned of this vaHev: for, if it were not so dark, pilgrims would not so much dread passing through it. The soul of the traveller is also often discouraged on ac- count of the length of the way. Through the darkness of the place it seems as though it had no termination, for al- though it is known that the dark river of death flows across its extremity, but, in the night season, the celestial city on the other side cannot be seen. This is the Egyp- tian darkness which may be felt, and, like solid piles of ebony, at such time it appears to have an adamantine hardness in it. Besides, this valley is much haunted. Evil spirits are very common in it. When a man is in the valley of Baca, Satan will soon be at him with his fiery darts, cursed insinuations and blasphemous sugges- tions. Like the bandit, he waylays us in the roughest and darkest part of our way. This much deepens the horror of the place. Thirdly, this valley, is very healthful. In aU the King's dominions, save alone the royal pavilion in glory, there is no spot more conducive to the soul's health than this. The air from the sea of affliction is extremely beneficial to invalid Christians. Continued prosperity, like a warm atmosphere, has a tendency to unbind the sinews and soften the bones ; but the cold winds of trouble make us sturdy, hardy, and well braced in every part. Unbroken success often leads to an undervaluing of mercies and foi- getfulness of the giver; but the withdrawal of the sun- shine leads us to look for the sun. Fourthly, it is a very safe place. We are not so likel_y to stumble in rough ways as in smooth and slippery places. Better walk on rugged rocks than on slippery ice. If we lose our roll, it is in the harbour of ease, not in . JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 237 the valley of Baca. Few Christians backslide while under the nd; it is usually when on the lap of plenty that believers sin. Fifthly, it is therefore, a 'profitable place. Stars may be seen from the bottom of a deep well when they cannot be discerned from the top of a mountain : so are many things learned in adversity which the prosperous man dreams not of. We need affliction, as the trees need win- ter, that we may collect sap and nourishment for future blossoms and fruit. Sorrow is as necessary for the soul as medicine is to the body : — " The path cf sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown." The benefits to be deriv^ed in the vale of tears are greater than its horrors, and far outnumber its disadvantage?. There was a fiction once of a golden cup at the foot of the rainbow ; it would have been no fiction had they put the treasure in the dark ^loud. In this valley of Baca there are mines of gold and of all manner of precious things ; and sometimes even in the thick darkness, one may perceive the diamonds glitter. Full many a pilgrim has here been made rich to all the intents of bliss, and here have others had their heavenly wealth most marvel- lously increased. But we proceed to obsei've — II. The Toilsome Effort spoken of in the words at the head of the chapter — " They make it a well," &c. When Eastern shepherds tiavel, if they find no water, they dig a well, and thus obtain a plentiful supply of water for themselves and for their cattle. So did Isaac, and so also did the rulers for the people in the wilderness. When we are thirsty, and there is no water to be found in the pools, we must dig deep for it. Calvin translates it, — 238 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ■Hi '•m i ' They, tia veiling through the valley of weeping, will dig a well," Slc. This teaches us that — 1. Comfort may he obtained even in the deepest ttou- hJe. We often look for it and fancy there is none. Like Higar, the child of our hope is given up, and we lay down 4 I I ? : h tw3en his teeth. If Christ is more excellent at one time than anothe." it certainly is in " tte cloudy and dark day." We can never see the true colour of Christ's love as in tho night of weeping. Christ in the dungeon, Christ on the bed of isickness, Christ in poverty, is Christ indeed to a sancti- fied man. No vision of Cimst Jesus is so truly a reveJaticn as that whi-h is seen in the Palmos of suffering. As in time of war the cHy doubhs its guards, so does Jesus mul- tiply tho displays of his afFect^'on when his chosen are be- sieged by trials. When Haba^vkuk's beUy trembled, and his lips quivered^ and rottenness entered into his bones, when all his earthly h/"^pes were blasted, and his comforts removed, he had svch pji, overcoming sense of the presence of God that he excla lined ^n the midst of all his sorrows. " Yet will I rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of my salvation." Among tie family cf God none are so well versed in the knowledge of Christ's love as these who have been long in the cha'^nber of affliction. What mar- vellous thingb nave these seen, and wh?t secrets have they heard ? They have kissed the lips that others have but heard at a distance; they have pressed their heads upon the breast which others have but seen wifh their eyes ; and they have been embraced in the arms into which others have but desired to climb. Give us the Christ of afti-ction, for he is Christ indeed. 2. As under sanctified affliction the manifestations of Christ are more clear, so are his visitations more frequent. If he pay us a daily visit when we are in our high estate, he will be with us hourly when we are cast down from our high places. As the sick child hath most of the mother's eye, so doth the afflicted believer receive most of his Saviour's attention, for like as a mother comfortetli her children, even so doth the Lord comfort his people. Pious Brooks writes, " Oh, the love tokens, the love-letters, tho bracelets, the jewels that the saints are able to produce eince they have been in the furnace of aflliction ! " Of liSR : t JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 243 these they had but one in a season before, but now that their troubles have driven them nearer to their Saviour, they have enough to store their cabinet. Now they can truly say, " How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, God ! how great is the sum of them 1" Merc'es before came so constantly that memory could not compute their number; but now they appear to cone in weve after wave, without a moment's cessation. Happy is the man who finds the fi rnace as hot with love as with atHiction. Let the tried believer look for increased piivileges, and his faithful Lord will not deceive his expectcitions. He who rides upon the storm when it is ossing the ocean, will not be absent when it is beating about his saints. " The Lord of hosts is with us," is not the song of them that make merry in the dance, but of those who are struggling in battle. " David, doubtless, \:ed worse devils than we, for without great tribulations he could not have had so great and glorious revelations. David made psalms ; we also will mpke psalms and sing, as well as we can, to the honour of our Lord God, and to spite and mock the devil."* Surely, it would be long before our "sonofs of clelivereice" woald end, if we were mindful of the manifold tokens for good which our glorious Lord vouchsafes us in the ho'jr of sadness. How doth he waken us morning by morring with the turtle voice of love ; and how doth he lull us to our evening repose with notes of kind compa.^sion ! Each hour brings favours on its wings. He is now become an abiding companion, that while we tarry with the stuff we share in the spoil.-|* Oli, sweet trouble which brings Jesus nearer to us ! AlHiction is the black chariot of Chi-ist, in which he lideth to his children. Welcome shades that herald or accompany oui Lord ! '.]. In frying times the cjmpK.t^slon and syinpathy oj Jesus become more delUjlitftdlij tlie subject of faith and * Liither in his Tahh-Talk. t 1 Sam. XXX. 24. 244 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. l\ r. experience. He ever feels the woes of all the members of his mystical body ; in all their afflictions he is afflicted, for he is touched with a feeling of our infirmities. This golden truth becomes most' precious to the soul, when, in thv3 midst of losses and crosses, by the Holy Spirit's in- fluence, the power of it is felt in the soul. A confident belief in the fact that Jesus is not an unconcerned spec- tator of our tribulation, and a confident assurance that he is in the furnace wiih us, will furnish a downy pillow for our aching head. When the hours limp tardily along, how sweet to reflect that he has felt the weariness of time when sorrows multiplied ! When the spirit is wounded by reproach and slander, how comforting to re- member that he also once said, " Reproach has broken mine heart I " And, above all, how abundantly full of consolation is the thought that now, even now, he f^els for us, and is a living head, sympathising in every pang of his wounded body. The certainty that Jesus knows and feels all that we endure, is one of the dainties with which afflicted souls are comforted. More especially is this a cheering thought when our good is evil spoken of, our motives misrepresented, and our zeal condemned. Then, in absence of all other balms, this acts as a sove- reign remedy for decay of spirit. Give us Christ with us, and we can afford to smile in the face of our foes. " As to appreciation and sympathy, we do not depend for these on fellow-woims. We can be content to be un- appreciated here, so long as Christ understands us, and has a fellow-feeling for us. It is for him we labour. One of his smiles outweighs all other commendation. To him we look for our reward ; and oh ! is it not enough that he has promised it at his coming ? It will not be long to wait. Do our hearts crave human fellowship and sym})athy ? Wo suioly have it in our great High Priest. Oil, how often sliould we faint but for the humanity of our divine Reileemcr ! He is bone of onr bone, and licsh JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 245 of our flesh ; yet he has an almighty arm for our deliver- ance — human to feel, divine to aid ; faithful over all our failures and imperfections. What need we more ? " * Wo may fancy we want some other encouragement, but if we know the value of the sympathy of Christ we shall soon find it all-sufficient. We shall think Christ alone to be enough to make a list of friends. The orator spake on so long as Plato listened, tUinking one wise man enough audience for him ; let us labour on, and hope on, if Jesus be our only helper. Let us in all time of our tribulation and affliction, content ourselves with one Comforter, if all others fail us. Job had three miserable comforters ; better far to have one who is full of pity and able to console. And who can do this so truly as our own most loving Lord Jesus ? Moreover, it is not only true that he can do it, but he actually does do it, and that in no small degree, by making apparent the motio \s of his own heart. He bids us see his breast, as it heaves in unison with ours, and he invites us to read his heart, to see if the same lines of sufFering be not written there. ii " I feel at my heart all thy sighs and thy groans, For thou art most near me, my flesh and my bones ; In all thy di;stresse8 thy Head feels the pain, They all are most needful, not one is in vain.'* Thus doth he gently assuage the floods of our swelling grief. 4. The Lord Jesus is graciously i')leased in many cases to give his afflicted saints an unusual insight into the deep things of his word, and an unvjonted relish in meditation upon them. Our losses frequently act toward us as if they had cleared our eyes ; at any rate, sickness and sorrow have often been the finger^ of Jesus, with which he applied the salve of illuminat...- grace. Either * Vide Shady Skfc, by a Pastor's Wife. ■ : i' U' 246 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. the underf^ tan ding is more thuii ordinarily enlarged, or else the piK)m'ses are irore simp] 3' opened up and ex- plained by the Holy Spirit. Who has not observed the Bupernatural wisdom of the long afflicted saint ? Who has not knowri 1 he fact that the school of sanctified sorrow is that in which are to be foi »id the richest scholars. We learn more .ue divinity by our trials than by o.ir books. The great Reformer said, " Prayer is the best book in my library." He might have added affliction as f :ie next. Sickness is the best Doctor of Divinity in all the world ; and trial is the finest exposition of Scripture, This is so inestimable a mark of the love of our blessed Lord that we might almost desire t^'ouble for the sake of it. This proves him to be wise in his hardest dealings towards us, and therefore sup -emely kind ; for is it not kindness which puts us to a little trouble for the sake of an im- mense advantage, and doth, as it were, take oar money out of our coffers at home that it may return again with mighty interest ? Jesus is a friend indeed ! 5. If the presence of Jesvs he not felt and realized, he nevertheless sustains the soul by a secret and unseen energy which he imparts to the spirit. Jesus is not always absent when he is unseen ; but, on the contrary, he is frequently near to us when we have no assurance of his presence. Many times the man who pours oil upon the flame of our comfort to prevent the quenching of the enemy, is behind the wall, where we cannot perceive him. * The Lord hath a heart which is ever full of affec- tion towards his elect, and when he seems to leave tliein he is still sustaining them. Patience under withdrawals of his sensible presence is a sure sign of his real, though secret, presence in the soul. A blind man is really nour- ished by the food he eats, even though he cannot see it ; so, when by the blindness of our spiritual vision, we are unable to discern the Saviour, yet his grace sustains our * See Parable in Bunyan's PilgrirrCa Progress. JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 247 :e oar money strength and keeps us alive in famine. The intense de- sire after Jesus, the struggling of the soul with doubts and fears, and the inward panting of the whole being after the living God, prove beyond a doubt that Jesus is at work in the soul, though he may be concealed from the eye of faith. How should it, therefore, be a matter of wonder that secretly he should be able to alford support to the sinking saint, even at seasons when his absence is bemoaned with lamentations and tears ? " The real gra- cious influences and effects of his favour may be con- tinued, upholding, strengthening, and carrying on the soul still to obey and fear God, whilst he yet conceals his fa- vour ; for when Christ complained, My God, my God, ivhy hast thou forsaken me ? (when as great an eclipse in regard of the light of God's countenance was upon his spirit, as was upon the earth in regard to the sun) yet he never more obeyed God, was never more strongly supported than at that time, for then he was obeying to the death."* God's favour most assuiedly rests on his children's hearts and strengthens their spirits, when the light and comfort of it are shut out from their perceptions. Christ puts his children upon his lap, end hcaleth their wounds when, by reason of their swooning condition, they feel not his hand, and see not his smile. It is said, " AH is not gold that glitters ; " certainly, we may alter the proverb, for it is true spiritually that all gold does not glitter ; but this dimness does not afiect i^'^s intrinsic worth and value. The old theologians used to say, " Grace may be in the heart in esse et opevari, when not in cognosci ; it may have a being and a working there when in thy apprehen- sion." Let us praise our bounteous Lord for unseen favours, and let us love our Lord Jesus for his mercies im- parted in silence, unobserved. 6. After long seasons of depression Jesus becomes sweetly the consolation of Israel by removing our load in * Goodwin's Child 0/ Lights &c. 248 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ii; m ' * a manner at once sirigularly felicitous and marvelloushj effiGacious. It may be that the nature or design of the trial prevents us from enjoying any comfortable sense of our Lord's love during the time of its endurance in such caso the grace of our Lord Jesus discovers itself in the hour of our escape. If we do not see our Lord in the prison, we shall meet him on the threshhold in that day which shall see him break the gates of brass and cut thebavsof ironin sunder. Marvellous are his works in the day wherein he brings us out of the house of bondage. Halyburton, after escape from a cloud and desertion, thus broke silence to a friend — " O, what a terrible conflict had I yesterday ! but now I can say * I have fought the good fight; I have kept the faith.' Now he has filled my mouth with a new song, ' Jehovah Jireh — in the mount of the Lord.' Praise, praise is com y to the upright. Shortly I shall get a bet- ter sight of God than ever I hav^e had, and be more meet to praise him than ever. Oh, the thoughts of an incarnate God are sweet and ravishing ! And oh, how do I wonder as myself that I do not love him more, that I do not admire him more. Oh, that I could honour him ! What a wonder that I enjoy such composure under all my bodily troubles! Oh, what a mercy that I have the use of my reason till I have declared his goodness to me ! " Thus it seems that the sun is all the brighter for Imving been awhile hidden from us. And here the reader must pardon the writer if he introduces a personal narrative, which is to him a most memorable proof of the loving kindness of the Lord. Such an opportunity of recording my Lord's goodness may never occur again to me ; and therefore now, while my soul is warm with gratitude for so recent a deliverance, let me lay aside the language of an author, and speak for myself, as I should tell the story to my friends in conver- sation. It may be egotism to weave one's own sorrows into the warp and woof of this meditation ; but if the heart prompts the act, and the motions of the Holy Spiri j are not contrary thereto, I think I may venture for this JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 249 iord.' Praise, once to raise an Ebenezer in public, and rehearse the praise of Jesus at the setting up thereof. Egotism is not so frightful a thing as ungrateful silence ; certainly it is not more contemptible than mock humility. Right or wrong, here followetli my story : On a night which time will never erase from my mem- ory, large numbers of my congregation were scattered, many of them wounded and some killed, by the malicious acts of wicked men. Strong amid danger, I battled the storm, nor did my spirit yield to the overwhelming pres- sure while my courage could reassure the wavering or confirm the bold. But when, like a whirlwind, the des- truction had overpast, when the whole of its devastation was visible to my eye, who can conceive the anguish of my spirit ^ I refused to be comforted, tears were my meat by da;y and dreams my terror by night. I felt as I bad never feit before. " My thoughts were all a case of knives," cutting my heart in pieces, until a kind of stupor of grief n 'nistered a mournful medicine to me. I could have tiuly sa^d, "I am not mad, but surely I have had enough to mf dden me, if I should indulge in meditation on it." I sought and found a solitude which seemed con- genial to me. I could tell my griefs to the flowers, and the dews could waep with me. Here my mind lay, like a wreck upon the sand, incapable of its usual motion. I was in a strange land, and a stranger in it. My Bible, once my daily food, was but a hand to lift the sluices of my woe. Prayer yielded no balm to me ; in fact, my soul was like an infant's soul, and I could not rise to the dig- nity of supplicrition. "Broken in pieces all asunder," my thoughts, which had been to me like a cup of delights, were like pieces of broken glass, the piercing and cutting miseries of my pilgrimage : , " The tumult of my thouj^hts Doth but enlarge my woe ; • My spirit languishes, my heart p Is desolate and low. [>u 250 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. With every morning light My sorrow new begins : Look on my angnish and my pain And i:)ardon all my sins." Then came " tlic slander of many " — barefaced fabrications, libellous slanders, and bai-barous accusations. Tliese alonu might have scooped out the last diop of consolation from mv cup of hapj)iness, but the worst hud coine to the wor.st, and the utmost malice of the enemy could do no more. Lower they cannot sink who are already in the netliei- most depths. Misery itseii is the guardian of the mif^ier- able. All things combined to keep me for a season in the darkness where neither the sun nor moon appeared. I had hoped for a gradual return to joeaceful consciousness, and patiently did I wait for the dawning light. But it came not as I had desired, for he who doeth for us ex- ceedingly alnindantly above what we can ask or think sent me a happier answer to my requests. I had striven to think of the immeasurable love of Jehovah, as display- ed in the .sacrifice of Calvary ; I had endeavoured to muse upon the glorious character of the exalted Jesus; but I found it impossible to collect my thoughts in the quiver of meditation, or, indeed, to place them anywhere but with their points in my wounded spirit, or else at my feet, trodden down in an almost childish thoughtlessness. On a sudden, like a flash of lightning from the sky, my soul returned unto me. The burning lava of my brain cooled in an instant. The throbbings of my brow were still ; the cool wind of comfort fanned my cheek, which had been scorched in the furnace. I was free, the iron fetter was broken in pieces, my prison door was open, I leaped for joy of heart. On wings of a dove my spirit mounted to tlie stars, — yea, beyoncl them. Whither did it win 4' its flight ? and where did it sing its song of grati- tude ? It was at the feet of Jesus, whose name had charm- ed its feai's, and pl?vced an end to its mourning. The JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 251 name — the precious name of Jesus, was like Ithuriel's spear, bringing back my soul to its own right and happy state. I was a man again, and what is more, a believer. The garden in which I stood became an Eden to me, and the spot was then most solemnly consecrated in my most grateful memory. Happy hour. Thrice blessed Lord, who thus in an instant delivered me from the rock of my des- pair, and slew the vulture of my griei' ! Before I told to others the glad news of my recovery, my heart was melo- dious with song, and my tongue endeavoured tardily to express the music. Then did I give to my Well-Beloved a song touching ray Well-Beloved ; and oh ! with what rapture did my soul flash forth its praises ! but all — all were to the honour of Him, the first and the last, the Brother born for adversity, the Deliverer of the captive, the Breaker of my fetters, the Restorer of my soul. Then did I cast my burden upon the Lord ; I left my ashes and did array myself in the garments of praise, while He did anoint me with fresh oil. I could have liven the very firmament to get at Him, to cast myself at His feet, and lie there bathed in the tears of joy and love. Never since the day of my conversion had I known so much of his in- finite excellence, never had my spirit leaped with such unutterable delight. Scorn, tumult, and woe seemed less than nothing for his sake. I girded up my loins to run before his chariot, and shout forth his glory, for my soul was absorbed in the oiie idea of his glorious exultation and divine compassion. After a declaration of the exceedinor cfrace of God to- wards me, made to my dearest kindred and friends, I es- sayed again to preach. The task which I had dreaded to perform was another means of comfort, and I can truly declare that the words of that morning were as much the utterance of my inner man as if I had been standing be- fore the bar of God. The text selected runs thus — ** Wherefora God also hath liighly exalted him, and given i = ■: '-, ' i ft. ■ ii' u 252 THE SAINT AND HIS SAV.'OUR. liim a naire wh'ch is atove every name : that at the namo of Jesus every kn«?e should bow, of things in heaven, and things in ear^ i, ard things under the earth ; and that every tongue shou.d confess that Jesus Chmi. is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."* May I trouble the reader with some of the utterances of the movning, for they were the unveilings of my own experience. When the mind is intensely set upon one object, how- ever much it may by diver calamities be tossed to and fro, it invariably returns to the place which it had chosen to be its dwelling place. Ye have noticed it in the case of David. When the battle had been won by his warriors, they returned flushed with victory. David's mind had doubtless suffered much perturbation in the meantime ; he had dreaded alike the effects of victory and of defeat ; but have you not noticed how his thoughts in one moment re- turned to the darling object of his affections? "Is the young man Absa^om safe? " said be, as if it mattered not what elue had occurred, if his beloved son were but se- cure ! So, beloved, is it with the Christian. In the midst of calamities, whether they be the wreck of nations, the crash of empires, the heaving of revolutions or the scourge of war, the great question which he asks him3elf,ancl asks of others too, is this — " Is Christ's kingdom safe ? " In his own personal afflictions his chief anxiety is — Will God be glorified, and will his honour be increased by it ? If it be so, says he, although I be but as smoking flax, yet if the sun is not dimmed I will rejoice ; and though I be a bruised reedj if the pillars of the temple are unbroken, wdiat mat- ters it that my reed is bruised ? He flnds it sufficient consolation, in the midst of all the breaking in pieces which he endures, to think that Christ's throne stands fast and firm, and that though the earth hath rocked beneath /lis feet, yet Christ standeth on a rock which never can be moved. Some of these feelings, I think, have crossed our "Diil. ii. 9-11, JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 253 minds. Amidst much tumult and divers rushing to and fro of troublous thoughts, our souls have returned to the dearest object of our desires, and we have found it no small consolation, after all, to say, " It matters not what shall become of us ; God hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name ; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow." Thus is the thought of the love of Jesus in his deliver- ing gi^ace most indelibly impressed upon my memory ; and the fact that this experience is to me the most mem- orable crisis of my life, must be my apology for narrating it — an apology which I trust the indulgent reader will accept 7. Although it may be thought that we have reached the legitimate boundary of our subject, we cannot refrain from adding, that Jesus renders himself peculiarly pre- cious hy the gracious manner in which, by hestoioing an amazing increase of joy, he entirely obliterates every scar which the siuord of adversity may have left in our flesh. As the joy that a man child is born into the world is said to destroy the remembrance of the previous travail of the motber, so the glorious manifestations of the Lord do wipe out all the bitter memories of the trials of the past. Al- ter the showers have fallen from the dark and lowering skies, how pleasant is the breath of nature, how delightfully the sun peers through the thick trees, transforming all the rain-drops to sparkling gems; and even so, after a shower of troubles, it is marvellous to feel the divine re- freshings of the Lord of hosts right speedily transforming every tear into a jewel of delight, and satisfying the soul with balmly peace. The soul's calm is deep and profound when the tempest has fully spent itself, for the same Je- sus who in the storm said, " It is I," will comfort his people with royal dainties when the winds have been hushed to slumber. At the heels of our sorrows we find our joys. Great ebbs are succeeded by great floods, and 254 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. sharp winters are followed by bright summers. This is the sweet fruit of Christ's love, — he will not have his bre- thren so much as remember their sorrows with regret ; he so works in them and towards them that their light affliction is forgotton in happy contemplation upon his eternal weight of glory. Happy is it that unhappiness which brings with it such surpassing privileges, and more than excellent the grace which makes it so. We need a poet to sing the sweet uses of adversity. An ancient writer, whose words we are about to quote, has unconsci- ously produced a sonnet in prose upon this subject y— " Stars shine brightest in the darkest night ; torches are better for the beating ; grapes come not to the proof till they come to the press ; spices smell sweetest when pounded ; young trees root the faster for shaking ; vines are the better for bleeding ; gold looks the brighter for scouring ; gloiu-ivorms glisten best in the dark ; juniper smells sweetest in the fire ; po^nander becomes most fra- grant from chafing ; the palm-tree proves the better for pressing ; camomile the more you tread it the more you spread it : such is the condition of all God's children, they are most triumphant when they are most tempted ; most glorious when most afflicted ; most in the favour of GcxI when least in man's esteem. As their conflicts, so their conquests ; as their tribulations, so their triumphs. True talamanders, they live best in the furnace of persecu- sion ; so that heavy afflictions are the best benefactors to heavenly affections. Where afflictions hang heaviest, corruptions hang loosest ; and grace that is hid in nature, as sweet water in rose leaves, is most fragrant when the fire of affliction is put under to distil it out. ' * Let each reader inquire whether this is in harmony with his experience, and if it be so, let him testify to his tried brethren that he has tasted and handled of the goodness of the Lord Jesus, and has found him full of * Samuel Clerk, preface to Martyrology. JESUS IN THE irOUR OF TROUT, I.E. 255 ^rrace to liclp, and power to comfort. Open thy moutli as wide in praise as thou ilidst in prayer, and let thy ^a-ati- tudc be as lasting as his love. But if the reader cannot bear witness to the ftiithful- ncss of the Lord in the day of adversity, let him tremble. If his religion has forsaken him in his distress, let him at once doubt its charjicter. That is not from heaven Vv^lnch cannot endure the tire. If the promises afford thee no comfort in thy trials, if thy faith doth utterly fail, and thou lindest thy profession tottering about thine ears, look well to thyself that thou be not deceived. We dare not say that there is no grace in the man who finds no comfort in the Lord in the day of evil, but we do say, with much earnestness, there is very grave cause for sus- picion. The following sentences from the pen of William Gurnall deserve much pondering, they will raise a vital questioi} in the mind of those who have never felt the sweetness of the promises in the hour of need : — " Prom- ises are like the clothes we wear. If there be heat in the body to warm them, they warm us, but if there be none, they give none. So where there is living faith, the promise will afford warm comfort ; but on a dead, unbe- lieving heart, it lies cold and ineffectual : it has no more effect than pouring a cordial down the throat of a corpse. Again, the promises do not throw out comfort as fire throws out heat ; for then we should only need to go to them in order to be warmed : their heat is like the fire in the flint, which must be struck out by force, and this force can only be applied by faith." * There is another explanation of the fact that a profes- sor in trial sometimes finds no comfort in the promises ; and as it is a little more lenient, we add it here, and de- sire all such persons to ju'lgo for themselves. It may be that thou hast neglected communion, and therefore thy troubles weigh lieavilv. When a bucket is let down into * Christian Armour. 256 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ■i ■*., i' Pi H^ a deep well, and is under the water, it is easily wound up, and seems to be light, but when once it is drawn out of the water its weight becomes excessive : it is so with our sorrows — as long as we keep them submerged in God and fellowship the}^ are light enough ; but once consider them apart from the Lord, and they become a grievous and intolerable burden. Faith will have to tug in earnest to lift our adversities when we stand alone without our Lord ; want of communion will rob the promises of their comfort, and load our griefs with weights of iron. It seems, then, that thou ha^^'j one of two faults to find with thyself, — either thou art clcdd, and so unable to feel the heat and comfort of the Lord's presence ; or else thou hast been inactive, not improving the mec.ns whereby the fellowship of the Master may be realized. Search thine heart and know the reason. " Are the consolations of God small with thee ? Is there anv secret thing with thee ?" * Look to thyself, for it may be thy soul is in an evil plight, and if so, be sure to give good heed unto it. Go to the Lord at once, and ask a fresh supply of life and grace. Do not seek to mimic the joy of be- lievers, but strive for the i-eality of it. Rely not on thine own power. Trim thy lamp with heavenly oil. If the fire of the Roman vestals Avere ever extinguished, they dare not light it except at the sun ; be sure that thou do not kindle a flame in thy heart with strange fire. Get renewal where thou didst get conversion, but be sure to get it, ?.nd at once. May the Holy Spirit help thee. * Job XV. 11. JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 257 ice consider TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. Poor sinner, how great a difterence is there between thee and the believer ! and how apparent is this difference when in trouble ! You have trials, but you have no God to flee to : your afflictions are frequently of the sharp- est kind, but you have no promises to blunt their edge ; you are in the furnace, bat you are without that divine companion who can prevent the fire from luirting you. To the child of God adversity brings many blessings — to you it is empty-handed ; to him there ariseth light in the darkness — to you there is the darkness but no arising of the light ; you have all its miseries, but none of its bene- fits. How dreary must your heart feel when lover and friends are put far from yoa, wlien yourhopesave wither- ed, and your joys are removed! You have no Christ to cheer you ; he is not there compense of your grief ; he is not Jehovah Jireh to you. You have no Almighty arms beneath you, no Eternal God to be your refuge, no Anointed One to be your shield. You must bear your sor- rows alone, or, if any attempt to help you, their strength is incompetent for the task. Oh, wretched man ! for ever enduring the thorn, but never reaching the throne ; in the floods, but not washed; burning in the fire, but not refined; brayed in the mortar, but not cleansed of foolishness ; suffering, but unsanctified. What misery to have no fouxidation in the day of the tempest, no covert from the wind, no shelter from the Btorm ! The saint can bear a world of trouble when the Btrength of Israel doth brace him with omnipotence ; but 258 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR, thou, without the support of the Most High, art crushed before the moth, and overwhelmed when evil gettethhokl upon thee. Thy present trials are too heavy for thee ; what wilt thou do in the swellings of Jordan ? In the day when the drops shall liave become a torrent, and the small rain of tribulations has given place to the water- spouts of vengeance, how wilt thou endure the unuttei'- able wrath of the Lamb ? Lay this to thy heart, and may the Lord enable thee to cast the burden of thy sin upon the ciuc'fied Saviour ; then shalt thou have boldness to cast thy griefs there also. , !' X. " Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled. " — Ps. xxx. 7' " Why dost thou shade thy lovely face 1 oh, why Doth that eclipsing hand so long deny The sunshine of thy soul-enlivening eye ? " Without +hat light, what light remains in me ? Thou art my life, my way, my light ; in thee I live, I move, and by thy beams I see. **jThou art my life ; if thou but turn away, My life's a thousand deaths : thou art my way ; Without thee. Lord, I travel not, but stray. " My light thou art ; without thy glorious sight. Mine eyes are darken'd with perpetual night, My God, thou art my way, my life, my light." QUARLES. \ ^Dr ^ HE Lord Jesus will never remove his love from 1^ any one of the objects of his choice. The itten on his fx?l!//l\ ^^^^^^•'^ ^^ ^^'^^ redeemed are wril jVc^^^i hands and gi'aven on his side ; they are design- d^"^*^^ ed for eternal felicity, and to that blessed con- ^^ summation his hand and his heart are unitedly re- ^^ solved to bring them. The meanest lamb of the blood- bought flock shall be preserved securely by the 'strength of Israel " unto the day of his appearing, and shall, 260 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. I : !i f ! ! u • > I'Jil! !' through every season of tribulation and distress, continue to be beloved of the Lord. Yetthis does not prevent the great Shepherd from hiding himself for a season, when his people are rebellious. Though the Redeemer's grace shall never be utterly removed, yet there shall be partial withdrawals of his 'presence, whereby our joys shall be dimmed, and our evidences darkened. He will sometimes say, " I will go and return unto my place, until theyacknovvledge their offences which they have committed against me; " and at other seasons, for a trial of their faith, he will '■ for a small moment " hide himself from them. In proportion as the Master's presence is delightful, his absence is mournful. Dark is the night which is caused by the setting of such a sun. No blow of Providence can ever wound so sorely as this. A blasted crop is as noth- ing compared with an absent Reedemer; yea, sickness a^id the approach of death are prefeiable to the departure of Emmanuel. Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life ; and more than that would the sincere disciple be prepared to surrender for a renewal of his Lord's presence. " Oh, that I were as in months past, as in days when God preserved me ; when his candle shine J upon my head, and when by his light T walked throLigh darkness!" Such will be the sorrowful complaint of the spirit when groping its way through the darkness of desertion. *' God's hiding himself, though but for trial's sake, will so tiouble a Christian that he will quickly be a burden to himself, and fear round about, as it is said of Pashur.* It will make him weary of the night, and weary of the day ; weary of his own house, and w eary of God's house ; weary of mirth, and account it mad.ne.'-js ; weary of riches and honours ; yea, if it continue long, it will make him weary of life itself, and wish for death." -(• The effect is always deplorable during the time of its duration, but the cause of it is not always the same. There are *Jer. yx. 3. t Lockyer on ChrisVs Communion. ; i i JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 2G1 lneh.s ; weary divers reasons for apparent desertions ; we will enter upon that interesting subject in the next chapter, and in the present meditation we shall chiefly consider the ill effects of the absence of Christ. We would carefully distinguish between those with- drawals which are evidences of an offence given to our Lord, and those which are designed to be trials of our faith. Our experience under difterent varieties of for- sakings will vary, and the following remarks, although in the main applicable to all desertions, are only intended in their detail to refer to those which are brought about by our tiansgressions ; and even then it is not to be imagined that each case will exhibit every point which we shall now observe. Here we specially refer to those hidings of God's countenance which are brought upon us as a fa- therly chastisement. And we do not here dwell upon the ultimate and blessed effects of the temporary forsakings of God, but are only to be understood to refer to the ills which, during the time beset the soul. Holy men may be left to walk in darkness. " Some- times Christians are guilty of acting a part which is offen- sive to their dear Saviour, and therefore he withdraws from them. Darkness spreads itself over them, thick clouds interpose between him and their souls, and they see not his smiling face. This was the case with the Church when she was inclined unto carnal ease, rather than to rise and give her Beloved entrance. He quick- ened her desires after the enjoyment of his company, by an effectual touch upon her heart ; but ho withdrew, de- parted, and left her to bewail her folly in her sinful neglect. Upon this her bowels were troubled ; she arose and sought him ; but she found him not. It is just with him to hide himself from us, if we are indifferent about the enjoyments of his delightful presence, and give us oc- casion to confess our ingratitude to him, by the loss wo sustain in consequence of it. His love in itself passes 262 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. iV I unJfr no vicissitude ; it is always the same; that is out security ; but the manifestation of it to our souls, from which our peace, comfort, and joy spring, may be inter- rupted through our neojliorence, sloth, and sin. A sense of it, when it is so, may well break our heaits ; for there is no ingiatitude in the world like it." * We would not be un- dei'stood to teach that God punishes his people for sin in a legal sense ; this would be a slur upon his justice ; for, seeing that he has lully punished their sin in Christ, to in- flict any penalty upon them would be demanding a double punishment for one offence, which were unjust. Let the chastisements be undei'stood in a paternal sense as correctives, and the truth is gained. Sin will be chas- tened in the elect. " You only have I known out of all the nations of the earth, therefore I will punish you for your iniquities." If we walk contrary to him, he will walk contrary to us. The promise of communion is only appended to obedience. " He that hath my command- ments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and ho that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him."f Now if we walk scandalously, and indulge in known sin, no wonder though the Lord withdraw himself from us. The jot/ of his salvation must not rest with his erring ones, though the salvation itself is ever theirs. Alas for us, that our corruption should so frequently mar our com- munion ! Many times between conversion and the rest of eternity the Christian, through sin, will have to walk through a salt land, not inhabited, and find the songs of the Canticles hushed by the wail of the Lamentations. Yet he would fain believe tha.t there are some who have but little cause to write their history in black letters, for their life has been one continued calm communion, with only here and there a hurried interruption. We are far from believing * Brine. t John xiv. 21 JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 263 mar our coin- that the despondency, coldness, and misery produced by a loss of the visible love of Christ ought to make up any considerable part of the biography of a Christian. That they do so in man}^ cases, we readily admit, but that it should be so we never can allow. Those men who glory in which they proudly call a deep experience, — by which they moan great wanderings from the path which Enoch trod when he walked with God, — are very prone to exalt the infirmities of the Lord's people into infallible and ad- mirable proofs of grace. To them an absent Christ is fine stock in trade for a sermon upon their own supei'lative wisdom ; and a heart which mourns abundantly, but loves most scantily, is to them what ])erfection is to the Arminian. As if the weeds of the field were precious plants because they will grow in the soil ; as if the freckles on the face of beauty were to be imitated by all who desire to attain to loveliness ; or as if the rocks in the sea were the very cause of its fulness. The deepest experience in the world is that which deals only with the Lord Jesus Christ, and is so sick of man, and of all within him, and so confident in the Lord Jesus, that it casts the whole weight of the sin and sinfulness of the soul entirely upon the Redeemer, and so rejoicing in all sufficiency, looks above the wants and woes of its own evil and ruined nature, to the completion of the new man in Christ Jesus. That eminent preacher, the late Rowland Hill, has well said, " I do not like Christians to live always complaining ; but 1 do not mind how much they complain if they carr^ their corruptions to Jesus." This is forgotten by many ; but those who are careful to practise it will have many causes for gladness. Blessed be God, the green pastures and the still waters, the shepherd's crook and pleasant company, are objects which are quite as familiar to the believer's mind as the howling wilderness and the brandished rod-- THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. i >.' "The men of grace have found ? Glory begun below ; Celestial fruits on earthly ground, Frcm faith and hope do grow." Yet, to the believer's grief, seasons of absence do occur, and those, alas, too frequently. It is our business, as the Holy Spirit shall enable us, very briefly to consider the subject of apjKtrent ^"sert'- i on account of sin, and may Ho make it useful to v.. We shall now procc -^ ■ *eview the mischiefs which attend L,pon suspended ^omii Mon. The effects of the withdrawal of the face of Jesu;;. are the outward siorns shadowing forth the secret sickness of the heart, which such a condition necessarily engenders. Although it be not fat^d, yet is it exceedingly hurtful to miss the com- pany of the Lord. As plants thrive not when tlie light is kept from them, but become blanched and unhealthy, so souls deprived of the light of God's countenance are un- able to maintain the verdure of their piety or the strength of their graces. Wbiit a loss is a lost Christ ! During this doleful season the believer s evidences are eclipsed ; he is in grievous doubt concerning liis own con- dition before God ; his faith is become weak, his hope well-nigh buried, and his love cold and languid. The graces, which, like planetary stars, once shone upon him with light and radiance, are now dark and cheerless for the sun has deparced, the source of their light is concealed in clouds. Evidences without Christ are like unlit candles which afford no light; like fig-trees with leaves only, devoid of fruit ; like purses without gold, and like barns \7ith0ut wheat: they have great capabilities of comfort, but without Jesus they are emptiness itself. Evidences are like conduit-pipes — they are sometimes the channels of living water, but if the supply from the fountain-heads be cut off from them, their waters utterly fail. That man will die of thirst who has no better spring to look to than JESUS HIDING HIMSKLF. 265 ce do occur, iness, as the consider the in, and may hiefs which Tects of the it ward signs heart, which :hough it be iss the com- 1 the light i« mhealthy, so ance are un- the strength oidences are lis own con- ak, his hope uid. The ne upon him cheerless for is concealed unlit candles leaves only, id like barns s of comfort, Evidences e channels of ain-heads be That man look to than an empty pitcher of evidences. Islnnael would liave perished in the wildeniOHs if his only hope had been in the bottle wdiich his mother brought out with her from the tent of Abraham; and assuredly without direct sup- plies from the gracious hands of the Lord Jesus, the saint would soon be in an ill plight. Unless the God of our rn-accs be ever at the root of them, they will prove like Jonah's gourd, which withered away when he was most in need of it. In this condition w^e shall find ourselv^es, if we lose the presence of the Lord Jesus ; w^e shall be racked with fears, and tormented with doubts, without possessing that sovereign cordial with which in ' ;.tter days our sorrows have been allayed. We shall find • 1 the usual sources of our consolation dried up, and .t will be in vain for us to expect a single drop from them. Ahab sent Obadiah upon an idle errand, when in the ti.ae of jrreat drouo-ht he said, " Go into the land unto all nintains of water, and unto all brooks : peradv^enture we may find gi'ass to save the horses and mules alive, that we lose not all the beasts ;" for it was the presence and prayer of Elijah which alone could procure the rain to supply their wants ; and if we, when we have lost our Master's society, seek to obtain comfort in past experiences and time-worn evidences, we shall have to weep with bitter tears because of a disappointed hope. We must regain the society of Christ, if we would restore the lustre of our assurance. An absent Saviour and joyous confidenc are seldom to be spoken of together. We know however, that some ])rofessors can maintain a confident carriage when the presence of the Lord is withholden ; they are as content without him as with him, and as happy under his frown as when in the sun- shine of his smile. Between the outward appearances of strong faith and strong delusion there is frequently so little difference that the presumptuous boaster is often as highly esteemed as the assured believer : nevertheless in Q \. \)l'' if i :iil 2GG THE SATNT AND HIS SAVIOUR. their inner nature there is an essential distinction. Faith believes on Jesus when his comfortable priomise is not vouchsafed ; but it does not render the soul indifferent to the sweetness of his society. Faith says, " I believe him when I do not feel his love manifest towards me, but my very persuasion of his faithfulness makes me pant for the light of his countenance ;" but vain presumption exclaims, " Away with evidences and manifestations, I am a vessel of mercy, and therefore I am secure ; why should I trouble myself about grace or graces ? I have made up my mind that all is right, and I will not break my slumbers who- ever may seek to alarm me." Happy is the man whose faith can see in the thick darkness, and whose soul can live in the year of drought ; but that man is not far from a curse who slights the fellowship of the Lord, and esteems his smile to be a vain thing. It is an ill sign if any of us are in a contented state when we are forsaken of the Lord ; it is not faith, but wicked indifference, which makes us careless concerning communion with him. And yet how often have we had cause to lament our want of concern ; how frequently have we groaned because we could not weep as we ought for the return of our husband who had hidden himself from us ! When enveloped in the mists of desertion, we lose all those pleasant visions of the future which once were the jewels in the crown of our life. We have no climbings to the top of Pisgah ; no prospects of the better land ; no earnests of pure delight ; no foretastes of the richness of glory, and no assurance of our title to the goodly land be- yond Jordan. It is as much as we can do to preserve ourselves from despair ; we cannot aspire to any confi- dence of future glory. It is a contested point with us whether we are not ripening for hell. We fear that we never knew a Saviour's love, but have been all along de- ceivers and deceived; the pit of hell yawns before us add we are in ffreat straits to maintain so much as a bare U JESUS HIDING HIMSELF, 2G7 tion. Faith )mise is not idifFerent to believe him me, but my pant for the on exclaims, am a vessel aid I trouble up my mind imbers who- ) man whose ose soul can not far from , and esteems L if any of us of the Lord ; ch makes us A.nd yet how , of concern ; ve could not and who had I, we lose all nee were the climbings to ter land ; no le richness of odly land be- to preserve to any confi- 3int with us fear that we all along de- ns before us ich as a bare hope of escape from it. We had once despised others for what we thought to be foolish doubts, but now that we ourselves are ready to slip with our feet, we think far more of the lamps which we despised* when we were at ease, and would be willing to chani^e places with them if we might have as good an opinion of our own sincerity as we have of theirs. We would give anything for half a grain of hope, and would be well content to be the mean- est of the sheep, if we might but have a glimpse of the Shepherd. The native huoyancy of spirit which distinguishes the heir of heaven is in a great measure removed by the de- parture of the Lord. The believer is spiritually a man who can float in the deepest waters, and mount above the highest billows ; he is able, when in a right condition, to keep his head above all the water-floods which may invade his peace : but see his Lord depart, and he sinks in deep mire, where there is no standing — all the waves and billows have gone over him. Troubles which were light as a feather to him, are now like mountains of lead ; he is afraid of every dog that snarls at him, and trembles at every shadow. He who in his better days could cut down an acre of foemen at a stroke, is aftVighted at the approach of a single adversary. He whose heart was fixed so that he was not afraid of evil tidings, is now alarmed at every report. Once he could hurl defiance to earth and hell united, and could laugh at persecution, slander and re- proach, but he now is timid as a deer, and trembles at every phantom that threatens him. His daily cares, which once he loved to cast upon the Lord, and courted but as the small dust of the balance are now borne upon the shoulders of his own anxiety, and are a load intoler- ably oppressive. He was once clothed in armour of proof, and was not afraid of sword or spear ; but now that he hath lost his Master's presence, such is his nakedness that * Job xii. 5. 268 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. If ! f ; , << every thorn pierces him, and every bi :ar fetches blood from him ; yea, his spirit is pierced through and through with anxious thoughts which once would have been liis scorn, How are the mighty fallen; how are the princes taken in a net, and the nobles cast in the mire of the street ! He who could do all things can now do nothing ; and he who could rejoice in deep distress is now mourning in the midst of blessings. He is like a chariot without wheels or horses, a harp without strings, a river without water, and a sail without wind. No songs and music now ; his harp is hanging upon the willows. It is vain to ask of him a song, lor " the chief musician upon his stringed instruments " has ceased to lead the choir. Can the spouse be happy when she has grieved her bridogroom and lost his company ? No ; she will go weeping through every street of the city, until she can again embrace him ; her joy shall cease until again she shall behold his countenance. It is frequently an effect of divine withdrawal that the mind becomes grovelling and eartldy. Covetousness and love of riches attain a sad preponderance. The Lord will hide himself if we love the world ; and, on the other hand, his absence, which is intended for other purposes, will sometimes, through the infirmity of our nature, increase the evil which it is intended to cure. When the Lord Jesus is present in the soul, and is beheld by it, ambition, covetousness, and worldliness flee apace; for such is his apparent glory that earthly objects fade away like the stars in noonday ; but when He is gone, they will show their false glitter, as the stars, however small, will shine at midnight. Find a Christian whose soul cleave th to the dust, and who careth for the things of this life, and you have found one who has had but little manifest fellowship with Jesus. As sure as ever we undervalue tx- Saviour's company, we shall set too high an estimate upon the tninga 'etches blood and through ave been his B the princes mire of the •; J do nothing ; ovv mourning iviot without •iver without d music now ; s vain to a.sk . his stringed ir. Can the r bridogroom iping through embrace him ; 1 behold his awal that the Btousness and rhe Lord will ie other hand, )urposes, will .ture, increase len the Lord J it, ambition, or such is his way like the ley will show all, will shine eaveth to the life, and you est fellowship tx. Saviour's Don the tnings JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 269 of this life, and then bitterness and disappointment are at the door. At this juncture, moreover, the (jreat enemy of souls is peculiarly busy ; our extremity is his opportunity, and he is not backward in availing himself of it. Now that Zion's Captain has removed his royal presence, the evil one con- cludes that he may deal with the soul after the devices of his own malicious heart. Apcordingly, with many a roar and hideous yell, he seeks to affiight the saint ; and if this suffices not, he lifts his a^-m of terror and hurls his fiery dart. As lions prowl by night, so doth he seek his prey in the darkness. The saint is now more than usually be- neath his power ; every wound from the envenomed dart festers and gangrenes more easily than at other times; while to the ear of the troubled one the bowlings of Satan seem to be a thousand times louder than he had ever heard before. Doubts of our calling, our election, and adoption, fly into our souls like the flies into Pharaoh's palace, and all the while the grim fiend covers us with a darkness that may be felt. Had he attacked us in our hours of com- munion, we would soon have made him feel the metal of our swords; but our arm is palsied, and our strokes are like blows from the hand of a child, rather exciting his laugh- ter than his fear. Oh for the days when we put to flight the armies of the aliens ! Would to God we could again put on strength, and by the arm of the Lord o'erthrow the hosts of hell ! Like Samson we sigh for the hair in which our great strength lieth; and when the shouts of the Philistines are in our ears, we cry for the strength which once laid our enemies " heaps upon heaps " by thousands. We must again ^njoy the manifest presence of the Lord, or we shall have hard work to lift up a standard against the enemy. It is not an unusual circumstance to find sin return upon the conscience at this critical season. ; ■'If! 'I 1^- n 270 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR, " Now the heart, disclos'd, betrays All its hid disorders ; Enmity to God's right ways, Blasphemies and murders ; Malice, envy, lust, and pride. Thoughts obscene and tilthy, Sores corrupt and putrified. No part sound or healthy. ** All things to pr6mote our fall, Show a mighty fitness ; Satan will accuse withal, * And the conscience witness ; Foes within, and foes without, Wrath, and law, and terrors ; Rash presumption, timid doubt, Coldness, deadness, errors."* When Israel had the sea before them, and the moun- tains on either hand, their old masters thought it a fit time to pursue them ; and now that the believer is in great straits, his former sins rise up to afilict him and cause him renewed sorrow : then, moreover, our sins become more formidable to us than the}^ were at our first repent- ance ; when we were in Egypt we saw not the Egyptians upon horses and in chariots — they on.y appeared as our tavskmasters with their wliips; but now we see them clad in arjoour, as miglity ones, lull of wrath, bearing the in- , x'uments of death. The pangs of sin, when the Lord forsakes us, are frequently as vehement as at first con- version, and in some cases far more so; for a conviction of having grieved a Saviour whose love we have once known, and whose faithfulness we have proved, will cause grief of a far more poignant character than any other order of conviction. Men who have been in a room full of light, tliink the darkness more dense than it is consid- ered to be by those who have long walked in it ; so par- * Hart. JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 271 cloned men think more of the evil of sin than those who never saw the light. The deserted soul has little or no liberty in "prayer : he pursues the habit from a sense of duty, but it yields him no delight. In prayer the spirit is dull and languid, and after it the soul feels no more refreshment than is afforded to the weary b}- a sleep disturbed with dreams and broken with terrors. He is unable to enter into the spirit of worship ; it is rather an attempt at devotion than the attainment of it. As when the bird with broken wing strives to mount, and rises a little distance, but speedily falls to the ground, where it painfully limps and flaps its useless pinion — so does the believer strive to pray, but fails to reach the height of his desires, and sorowfully gropes his way with anguishing attempts to soar on high. A pious man once said, — " Often when in prayer I feel as if I held between my palms the fatherly heart of God and the bloody hand of the Lord Jesus ; for I remind the one of his divine love and inconceivable mercies, and I grasp the other by his promise, and strive to hold him fast and say, * I will not let thee go except thou bless me.' "* But when left by the Lord such blessed nearness of access is impossible ; there is no answer of peace, no token for good, no message of love. The ladder is there, but no angels are ascending and descending upon it ; the key of prayer is in the hnnd, but it turns uselessly within the lock. Prayer without the Lord's presence is like a bow without a string, or an arrow without a head. The Bible, too, that great granary of the finest wheat, becomes a place of em])tiness, where hunger looks in vain for food : in reading it, the distressed soul will think it to be all threatenings and no promises ; ho will see the terrors written in capitals, and the consolations printed in a type so small as to be almost illegible. Head the Word he must, for it has become as necessary as his food ; but I n *> r i-i' 1' n-\ * Geii. xxxii. 20. iffliz 272 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. ^IIt! : ^ enjoy it he cannot, for its savour has departed. As well might we try to read in the dark as to get joy from Holy Scripture unless Christ shall pour his gracious light upon the page. As the richest lield yields no harvest without rain, so the book of revelation brings forth no comfort without the dew of the Spirit. Ow intercourse with Cltridian friends, once so en- riching, is rendered profitless, or at best its only useful- ness is to reveal our poverty by enabling us to compare our own condition with that of other saints. We cannot minister unto their edification, nor do we feel that their company is afibrding us its usual enjo3qnent ; and it may be we turn away irom them, longing to see His face whose absence we deploie. This barrenness overspreads all the ordinances of the Lord's lious(^, and renders them all unprofitable. When Christ is with the Christian, the means of ftTace are like flowers in the sunshine, smellinsf fragrantly and smiling beauteously ; but without Christ they are like flowers by night, their fountains of fragrance are sealed by the darkness. The songs of the temple shall be bowlings in that day, and her solenm feasts as mourn- ful as her days of fasting. The sacred supper which, when Clirist is at tlie table, is a feast of fat things, without him is as an empty vine. The holy convocation without him is as the gatherings of the market, and the preaching of his Word as the shoutings of the streets. We hear, but the outward ear is the only part affected ; we sing, but — " Hosaunaha languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies." We even attempt to preach (if this be our calling), but wo Hpeak in heavy chains, full of grievous bondage. We pant for God's house, and then, after we have entered it, we are but the worse. We have thirsted for the well, and hav- ing readied it we find it empty. JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 273 Very probably v:e shall grow censorious, and blame the ministry and the church when the blame lies only with ourselves. We shall begin to cavil, censure, criticise, and blame. Would to God that any who are now doing so would pause and inquire the reason of their unhappy dis- position. Hear the reproof administered by one of the giants of puritanic times : " You come ofttimes to Wis- dom's home, and though she prepare you all spiritual dainties, yet you can relish nothing but some by-things, that lie about the dish rather for oi'nament than for food. And would you know the reason of this ? It is because Christ is not with your spirits. If Christ were with you, you would feed on every dish at Wisdom's table, on pro- mises, yea, and on threatenings too. ' To the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet,' saith Solomon. All that is good and wholesome goes down well where Christ is with the spirit."* Oh, for the Master's smile to impart a relish to his dainties. Weakness is the unavoidable result of the Lord's dis- pleasure. " The joy of the Lord is our strength," and if this be wanting we necessarily become faint. " His i)Te- sence is life," and the removal of it shakes us to our very foundation. Duty is toilsome labour, unless Christ make it a delight. " Without me ye can do nothing," said the Redeemer ; and truly we have found it so. The boldness of lion-like coui'age, the iirnmess of rooted decision, the contidence of unlUnching faith, the zeal of fpienchless love, the vigour of undying devotion, the sweetness of sancti- fied fellowship — all hang for support upon the one pillar of the Saviour's presence, and this removed they lail. There are many and precious clusters, but they all grow on one bcngh, and if that bo broken they fall with it. Though we be flourishing like the green bay-tree, yet tlio sharpness of such a winter will leave us leafless and bare. Then 'the fig-tree shall not b. )ssom, neither shall there * Lockyor. H ■1 i I ! <,J 1 ' liTn;: i i 'i - ^ :ni t I H i 11 M! 274 THE SAINT AND HTS SAVIOUR. be frui^ *n Lhe vine ; the labour of the olive shall faij, aii'l tiii'- ) eld shall yield no meat." " Instead of sweet smell there shall be a stink ; and instead of a girdle a rent , 'and instead of well-set hair, baldness ; and instead of a stomacher a girdling of sackcloth ; and burning instead of beauty.* It is then that wo shall cry Avith Saul, " I an) sore distressed, for the Pliilistines make war against me, and God is departed from me, and answereth me no more, neither by prophets nor by dreams."*|" Good it is for us that he is not clean gone for ever, but will turn again lest we perish. Not to weary ourselves upon this mournful tcpie,. we may sum up all the manifest effects of a loss of the mani- fest favour of Christ in one sad catalogue — misery of spirit, faintness in hope, coldness in worship, slackness in duty, dulness in prayer, barrenness in medi'.ation, worid- liness of mind, strife of conscience, attacks from Satan, and weakness in resisting the enemy. Such ruin doth a withdrawing of Divine presence work in man. From rd] grieving of thy Spirit, from all offending of the Savioar, from all withdrawing of thy visible favour, and loss of thy presence, good Lord, deliver us. And if at any time we have erred, and have lost the light of thy countenance, O Lord, help us still to believe thy gr-^'^'^ and trust in the merits of thy Son, through v;hom w, ,<'>]. iress thee. Amen. * Isa. iii. 24, t 1 Sam. xxviii. 15, II 'i !i|!l JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 275 TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. Sinner, if the consequences of the temporary departure of God be so terrible, what must it be to be shut out from him for ever ? If the passing cloud of his seeming anger scattereth such grievous rain upon the beloved sons of God, how direful will be the continual shower of God's unchanging wrath which will fall on the head of rebelli- ous sinners for ever and ever ! Ah, and we need not look so far as the future ! How pitiable is your condition now! How great is the danger to which you are every day ex- posed 1 How can you eat or drink, or sleep or work, while the eternal God is your enemy ? He whose wrath makes the devils roar in agony is not a God to be trifled with I Beware ! his frown is death ; 'tis more — 'tis hell. If you knew the misery of the saint when his Lord deserts him but for a small moment, it would be enough to amaze you. Then what must it be to endure it throughout eternity ? Sinner, thou art hasting to hell, mind what thou art at ! Do not damn thyself, there are clieaper ways of playing fool than that. Go and array th^^sulf in motley, nnd be- come the aping fool, at whom men laugh, but do nu make laughter for fiends for ever. Carry coals on thy head, or dash thine head against the wall, to prove that thou art mad, but do not " kick against the pricks ; " do not com- mit suicide upon thine own soul for the mere ake of in- dulging thy thoughtlessness. Be wise, lest being often reproved, having liardened thy neck, thou shouldest be suddenly desti'oyed, and that without remedy. in ii. '\ ;5 , rffei XI. She m\m» of i^irpvcnt §tm\m, Show me wherefore thou coiitendest wi^h me." Job x. 2. ■ f Hil- ^.^/^T would be a grievous imputation upon the much tried children of God, if we should im- agine that their greater trials are the results of greater sin. We see some c^^ them stretched upon the hed of languishing year after year ; ^^^ P others are subject to the severest losses in busi- t^ ncss, and a third class are w'eeping the oft repeated bereavements of death.. Are all these chastise- ments for sin ; and are wo to attribute the excess of trou- ble to an enlarged degree of transgressions ? Many of the Lord's people aic free from the extreme bitterness of such affliction : wlin t is the cause of the difference ? Js it always the re^,uit of sin ? We reply, Certainly not. In many cases it is, but in as many more it is not. David \ydr woe ; but we do not think that the trials of Job wei'e preceded by any great fall ; on the contrary, Job was never more holy than just before the enemy teil ,pon hiu.. Trials have other errands be- V,;.;*J^|fe,:.> THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 277 sides the mortification of tlie flesh, and other reasons be- yond that of chastisement for sin. Since the hidings of God's countenance stand amoi.,, the chief of our troubles, the previous remark will a| p-y to them. These are, without doubt, very frequently a monition from Christ of his grief at our inicpiities ; but, at the same time, there are so many exceptions to this rule that it would be unsafe, as well as untrue, to consider it to be general A portion of the Lord's family live usually in the shade , they are like those sweet flowers which bloom nowhere so well as in the darkest and thick- est glades of the forest. Shall we dare to charge them wiili guilt on this account '? If we do so, their extreme sensitiveness will lead them to plead guilty ; they will be wounded to the quick, and h\ their grief and ingenuous confession, they will unwittingly refute our cruel suppo- sition. Some of these bedarkened travellers exhibit the rarest virtues, and the most precious graces. They are, of course, wanting in some great points ; but in others they BO much excel that we are compelled to admire. The white and sickly lily is exceedingly fair, although she has not the ruddy health which is the glory of the rose. We desire that thei^e sons and daughters of mourning may come forth to the light, and rejoice in their Lord : but if ihey shall stili tarry in the land of darkness, be it far from us to charo-e them with p'reater sin because they have less joy. We remember well the lines of the poet — • *' In this wild world, tlie fondest and the best Are the most tried, most troubled and distrcst." * We will now venture to suggest some of the reasons for the Saviour's withdrawals. 1. Divine sovereignty is manifested in the communion of saints with their Lord, as well as in every other stej) * Oraobe, 278 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. A i 11' ^lii: . I of the journey to heaven. He who giveth no account of his matters, out of his own absolute will and good pleasure may extinguish the lamps of comfort and quench the fires of joy, and yet give to his creature no reason for his conduct; yea, and find no reason in the creature, but exercise his kingly rights in the most uncontrolled and absolute manner. That all men may see that their best pleasures flow from the river of God, and are only to le found in him, and only to be obtained through his divine grace, he is pleased at certain seasons to dry up the springs, ^o close the fountain, and to suspend the flowing of the stream ; hO that even the best of men languish, and all the godly of the earth do mourn. Lest the green fir-tree should exalt itself by reason of its fruitfulness, as if it did garnish itself with beauty, the God of our salva- tion allows a withering and a blight to seize upon it that it may believe the sacred declaration, " Feom me is thy FRUIT FOUND." God's own glory is sometimes his only motive for action, and truly it is a reason so great and good that he who mocks at it must be a stranger to God, and cannot be truly humbled before him. It may be that the sole cause of our sad condition li-s in the absolute will of god; if so, let us bend our Lea Is in silence, and let him do what .>oemeth him good. Unhappy is our lot when our best beloved is absent ; but he shall do as he pleases, and we will sigh for his return ; but we will not chide him for his absence ; " What if God will use his ab- soluteness and prerogative in this his dealings with his child, and proceed therein according to no ruled case or precedent ? This he may do, and who shall cry, ' What doestthou?'" * We think, however, that this case is but of rare occur- rence, and we would, under every withdrawal, exhort the believer to look for some other cause, and only resort to this explanation when he can truly say, as in God's sight, * Goodwin. THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 279 rare occur- that with diligent searching' he cannot discover another. Then let him remember that such trouble shall be richly recompensed even in this life, as Job's poverty was fully restored by his double wealth. 2. Without this the believer could not enter into the depths oi fellow sliii^ lulth Christ in his sufferings. The very worst of the Saviour's agonies lay in his desertion by God ; the cry of " My God, my God, why hast thou for- saken me ? " was the gall of the bitterness of the miseries of Jesus. Now, unless we had to endure a measure of the same excruciating torment of desertion, we could not en- ter into communion with him to any great degree. At the very deepest our fellowship is shallow; but give us the continued and invariable light of the Lord's counte- nance, and we should for ever remain little children in fellowship. Our Master desires that we may know him in his death, and sympathise with him in his sufferings. That eminent divine, Richard Sibbs, thus writes : " Now all of us must sip of that cup whereof Christ drank the dregs, having a taste of what it is to have God to forsake us. For the most part, those believers who live any time (especially those of great parts) God deals thus with ; weaker Christians he is more indulgent unto. At such a time we know the use of a mediator, and how miserable our condition were without such an one, both to have borne and overcome the wrath of God for us ! " * Again, the deeply experienced Thomas Goodwin says : " Though no creature was able to drink off Christ's cup to the bot- tom, yet taste they might, and Christ tells them they fchould : * Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, and be bap- tized with the baptism that I am baptized with,' "I* that is, taste of inward affliction and desertion, as well as of out- ward persecution ; and all to make us conformable to him, that we might come to know in part what he endured for li ■ *Sibbs's Bowels Opened. t Matt. XX. 23. m ! 1 !iiii>^;^: 280 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. »# US. "'^ Sweet (lepai'turc of Jesus, wliicli tlnis enal)los \\h to approach the nearer to him ! of all leasons for patience none can be more powerful than this. 3. Thus, in some men, the Lord works a 'preparation for eminent service. By the experience of sharp inward trouble, the Lord's mighty men are pi'cpared for the figbt. To them the heat by day and the frost by night, the shout- i?igs of the war, the spear and the battle-axe, are li^'lo things, for they have been trained in a sterner school. They are hke plants which have lived through the severi- ties of winter, and can well defy the frosts of spring ; they are like ships which have crossed the deep and have wea- thered the storm, and are not to be upset by evevy capful of wind. To tliem the loss of man's applause is of sniall account, for tliey have endured the loss of Christ's smile, and have yet trusted him. To them the contumely of a world, and the rage of hell, are nothing, for they have suffered what is a thousand times worse — they have pass- ed under the cloud of Christ's transient forsaking. They are wise, for, like Heman, they have been "afflicted and ready to die from their youth up," -[-and therefore, like him, they are fit to compare with Solomon in some things, and are wiser than he in others.j They are useful, for Paul saith of such men, " Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye tuhich are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted." There are no preachers in the world like those who have passed by the way of trouble to the gate of wisdom. Moses prized Hobab because he knew how to encamp in the wilderness,§ and so we value the minister who has learned as Hobab did, by living in the desert himself. Luther said Temptation was one of his masters in divinity. We will readily trust ourselves in the hands of a physician who has been himself sick of our disease, *Child of Light walking in Darkness. fPs. Ixxxviii. 15. § Num. X. 31. Jl Kings iv. 31. THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 281 enables uh for patience jreparation arp inward :)r the fio-ht. b, the shout- e, are li' !Io rncr school. 1 the severi- pring ; they I have wea- iveiy capful ) is of .small ii'ist's smile, :umely of a they have y have pass- :ing. They fHicted and ret'ore, like ome things, useful, for e overtaken an one in t thou also world like to the gate new how to le minister the desert nis masters 1 the hands )ur diseas- , 1 Kings iv. 31. and has tried the remedies wliich he prescribes for us ; as we confide in the advice of the Christian who knows our trials by having felt them. Wliat sweet words in season do tried saints addi-ess to mourners ! they are the real sons of consolation, the truly good Samaritans. We who have a less rugged path, are apt to overdrive the lambs ; but these have nourished and brought up child I'cn, and know how to feel for the weaknesses of the little ones. It is often remarked that after soul-sorrow our pastors are more gifted with words in season, and theirspeech is more full of savour : this is to be accounted for by the sweet influence of grief when sanctified by the Holy Spirit. Blessed Redeemer, we delight in thy love, and thy pre- sence is the life of our joys ; but if thy brief withdi-awals qualify us for glorifying thee in cheering thy saints, we thank thee for standing behind the wall ; and as we seek thee by night, it shall somewhat cheer us that thou art blessing us when thou takest away thy richest blessing. By sad experience of apparent desertion we are some of us enabled to preach to sinners with greater afi'ection and concern than we could have exhibited without it. Our bowels yearn over dying men, for we know what their miseries must be, if they die out of Christ. If our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is yet at times the cause 01 great heaviness, what must an eternal weight of torment be ? These thoughts, begotten b}'' our sorrow, are very useful in stirring up our hearts in preaching, for un- der such emotions we weep over them, we plead with them; and, as though God did beseech them by us, we pray them in Christ's stead to be reconciled to God. For a proof thereof, let the reader turn to the Address to the Unconverted appended to this chapter ; it was written by one who for many years endured the gloom of desertion. May God bless it to sinners ! 4. The Lord Jesus sometimes hides himself from us be- cause by his foresight and prudence he is thus able to pre^ R 1 I ,11 I J i IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^ .!^4f. /./ ^ '^ o %" ?82 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOtR. vent the breaking forth of evil Perhaps pride would rise to an alarming heiglit if the pining sickness of dciicrtion did not somewhat abate its violence. If some men had all their desires the oai'th woidd need enlargement, for their pride wovdd become intolerable to their fellows; and, certainl}', while corniption still remains in our he;i]-ts, con- tinual comfort Avould Avork somewhat in the same maimer even in us. Because of the h:iughtiness, which so easily arises in the hearts of the Lord's people if they have a little too much feasting, " the Lord in his care and good- ness is fain to hold them to hard meat, and to keep them to a spare diet."* Sometimes, also, high living would brine: on carelessness of walk. We should fori^et that Ave walk by faith, and not by sight, if it were not for inter- vals of darkness in which sense is put to its wit's ends, and only faith is of use to us. Dependence is generally the mother of humility ; as long as we feel the one we shall not be quite devoid of the other; therefore our Di- vine Lord, according to his own wisdom, gives us a bitter lesson in both, by stopping the supplies of joy and with- holding liis presence. The fact is, that in our present state much that is pleasant to us is not good for us. We are not able to endure the weight of glory, for our backs are weak, and we staggei- under it. It is hard to hold a full cup with a steady hand. We are like the fire on the hearth, which can be extinguished by too much sunlight, as well as by floods of water ; even joy can destroy us as well as grief. The master said to his disciples, '* I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now.""|* The incapacity of the saint may account for the comparative fewness of his delights. " As it is with a little bark, if it should have a great mainmast and broad sail- cloths, then, instead of carrying it, it would be overthrown by them ; therefore men proportion their mast according to their ship or bark ; and if it have skilful mariners, they •K T rhomas Hooker. + John xvi. 12. THE CAUSFS OF APPAKENT DESERTION. 28S 3 would rise of cl exertion ne men ba'l rgemeiit, for el lows; and, ■ lie;i rts, con - ame mannci' ch so easily tliey have a 'e and good- 3 keep them ivinsf would rget that wo lot for inter- s wit's ends, is generally the one we pfore our Di- )s us a bitter 3y and with- prenent state us. We are •ur backs are ;o hold a full fire on the ich sunlight, destroy us as pies, " I have lot bear them count for the s with a little id broad sail- e overthrown ast according iariners,thcy s' * .:e sail when they come into the shallow or narrow seas. This is the reason why the Lord so deals with us ; aint stay himself upon his God. The light is a pleasant thing, but faith can walk without it. It is good to have the Lord's pres- ence, but let us remember that we are not saved by our enjoyments of him, but by his efficacy for us. Wa are full of sin and in our distress we feel it, but he is full of grace and truth ; let us believe His all-sufficiency and rest in it. His blood, not our peace, his merit, not our comfort, his perfection, not our communion, — are^the pil- lars of our salvation. We love his company, and the manifest sense of it is sweet indeed ; but, if it be denied us, nevertheless " the foundation of God standeth sure." Jesus, the yea and amen, is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Our soul bangs upon him in the thick darkness, and glories on him in the storm. The promise, like an anchor, holds us fast ; and though the pilot sleeps, all must be well. It is not our eye on him which is our great protection, but his eye on us ; let us be assured that although we cannot see him, he can see us, and therefore, we are safe. Whatever our frame or feeling, the heart of Jesus is full of love — love which was not caused by our good behaviour, and is not diminished by our follies — love which is as sure in the night of darkness, as in the brightness of the day of joy. Thf^refore are we confi- dent and full of hope, and we can sing with our favourite poet — ** Away, despair ; my gracious Lord doth hear, Tliough winds and waves assault my keel, He doth preserve it ; he doth steer, it^', . - J (' THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 287 Even when the boat seems most to reel. Storms are the triumph of his art ; Well may he close his eyes, but not his heart."* We never live so well as when we live on the Lord Jesus simply as he is, and not upon our enjoyments or raptures. Faith is never more likely to increase in utrength than in times which seem adverse to lier. When she is lig-htened of trust in joys, experiences, frames, feel- ings, and the like, she rises the nearer lieaven, like the baloon when the bags of sand are emptierl. Trust in tl ' Redeemer's strength, thou benighted soul ; exercise what faith thou hast, and by-and-bye he shall arise upon thee with healing beneath his wings. The next and last case has been ah-eady alluded to in the previous chapter. Sin, with its hosts, closes the rear. We do not intend to do more than instance the special iniquities which more readily than any other will cause the Master to be gone. 8. Gross and foul o^ences of any kind v/ill (h'ive the King from the soul very speedily. Let tlie believer be- mire himself with lust, or put forth his hand unto violence, or speak lying or lascivious words — let him give great and scandalous cause to the enemy to blas- pheme, — and, as surely as he is the Lord's child, his back shall smart for it. If we lie in the bed of Jezebel, we shall not have the company of Jesus there. As soon expect to see an angel in tlie sty with swine, as Christ Jesus in company with the tilth y. Should we be left to commit adultery like David, we should have our bones brokcD as he had ; if we swear like Peter, we shall have to weep as bitterly as he ; and if we tlec like Jonali from the service of the Lord, we may expect to go into as great depths as he did. The sun will shine on the dunghill, but Christ will not shine on the backslider while he is indulging in hia lusts. How tej'rible arc the agonies of the mind when Herbert. 288 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. M' W \ lU some surprising sin is visited upon us ! In an ancient work, as rare as its own merits we find the following :— > "For he withdraweth his face and favour from us, kindle th his anger against us, and counteth us as his enemies;* the horror of his wrath is as fire sent from above into our bones, and is as the arrows of the Almighty, the venom y. ] lereof drinketh up our spirit. He setteth our iniquities before himself, and our secret sins in the light of his countenance "I* he setteth them also in our own sight, and our sin is before us continually ;J with his hand he bindeth the yoke of our transgressions, and with them being laid upon our neck he maketh our strength to fail ;§ bitter things doth he write against us, and maketh us to inherit the iniquities of our youth,|| so that there is nothing found in our flesh because of his anger, neither is there rest in our bones because of our sin : our wounds stink and are corrupt ;1F our veins are full of burning, our heart is as wax ; it melteth in the midst of our bowels ;** our bones are parched like an hearth,*ff and our moisture is turned to a summer drought, so heavy is his hand upon us night and day.Jj Then cry we out for grief of heart ; we roar like bears, and mourn like doves ;§§ looking for judgment, but there is none — for salvation, but it is far from us ; because our trespasses are many, both before him and ourselves, for which his terrors do fight against us, he visiteth us every morning,|||| and tryeth us every moment ; setteth us as a mark against him, so that we are a burden to ourselves. Also, when we cry and shout, he shutteth out our prayer, IFIF and is even angry against it,*** because our iniquities have separated between us and him, and our sins have hid his face from us, and he will not hear ;'t*i"f* so *Job xix. 11. t Ps. xc. 8 t Ps. li. 3. § Lam. i. 14. || Job xiii. 26 H Pa. xxxviii. 3, 5, 7. **Vii. xxii. 14. ffPs. cii. 3. ttPa. xxxii. 4. §§l8a. lix. 11, 12. IlllJob vii- 18. HH Lam. iii. 8. ***Ps. Ixxx. 4. titlsa. lix. 2. I !i C THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 289 loathsome are our trespasses unto him, so venomous to ourselves is the biting of those fierce serpents." Careless living, even if we fall not into open transgres- «3ion, will soon build a wall between our Lord and the soul. If daily sins are unconfessed and unrepented of, they will daily accumulate until they form " mountains of division " between our adorable Friend and our own heart. A little filth acquired every ds^y, if it be left un- washed, will make us as black as if we had been plunged in the mire ; and as sin upon the conscience turns Christ's joy out of the heart, it will be impossible for us to feel the delights of communion until all our everyday sins have been washed from the conscience by a fresh application of the atoning blood. Let us take 'leed that we offer the morning and evening lamb, constantly looking to the blood of the Great Sacrifice, and seeking a fresh discovery of its cleansing power. yeglect of grayer is a sad grief to the Holy Spirit, and v/ill as soon cause the Lord to withdraw as open sin. How many of us from, this cause have dropped the thread of communion, and so have lost the clue to happiness. Jesus will never reveal himself in any marked manner unto us while we neglect the throne of grace. We must seclude ourselves if we would see our Beloved. It was a s^^eet saying of Bernard, " O saint, knowest thou not that thy husband, Christ, is bashful, and will not be familiar in company ; retire thyself by meditation into thy closet, or into the fields, and there thou shalt have Christ's em- braces." Rebekah went to the well, and was met by one who gave her jewels of gold, and found her a husband ; let us go to the well of prayer, and we shall meet Jesus, but those who tarr^ at home shall lack. Idleness in the ways of grace will also hinder commun- ion. If we travel slowly, and loiter on the road, Jesus will go on before us, and sin will overtake us. If we are dilatory and lazy in the vineyard, the Master will not •290 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. |,{>4Ht,i.;!i i I 3' smile on us when lie walks tlirougli his garden. Be acti V(3, and expect Christ to be with thee ; be idle and the thorns and briars will grow so thickly, that he will be shut out of thy door. Wo should never mend our pace on Heaven's road if our comforts did not fly alicad of us, so as to allure us to speed, by compelling us to pursue them. Unt/iankfalness will soon strip us of our joys. It is said of the sun, that none look at him except he be in an eclipse ; and we fear we are all too forgetful of Christ un- less he veil his face : therefore to chasten us for our ill manners, and incite us to a more loving carriage towai-ds him, he will hide himself in darkness if we forget his goodness. Cowardice will also rob us of the Master's manifest presence. The ancient saints who at any tine, in order to avoid the stake, were led through weakness to deny their profession, were made sorely to rue the day that they ever did so weak a deed. And we, if we are asham- ed of him in the time of rebuke and reproach must not look for any love-feasts with him. Captains cannot smile on runaway soldiers, or even on men who quake in the moment of conflict. • We must be valorous if we would be comforted ; we must show ourselves men if we would have Christ show himself our loving friend. When Jonah runs from Nineveh he must not reckon upon his Lord's com- pany, except it be to rebuke and smite him. "In our English chronicles we read of the rare affection of Eleanor, the wife of Edward I,, who, when the king had been wounded with a poisoned daggei-, set her mouth to the wound to suck out the pois(m, \ enturing her own life to preserve her husband. Such is the strength of love in a healthy Christian, that were it necessary to suck poison out of the wounds of Jesus, he would be content to do so." And this he will do in a spiritual sense, for if he can in no other way remove contempt and slander from the cause of Christ and his Church, he will rather bear it him- THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESKRl'ION. 201 self than allow it to fall on his Master. But if this noblo spirit shall give place to mean self-.soekin«,^ anil carnal care of our personal interests, the Lord will forsake the tabernacle where we dwell, and leave us to mourn the dis- pleasure of our slighted friend. Harshness to the afflicted iray b. *ng us into deep waters. If the strong cattle push the weak with their horns, and thrust with the shoulder, they must have the fatness of their strength removed, and the glory of their horns cut off, that they may learn to deal gently witli the tender- hearted and timid. When we hear a strong professor dealing roughly with any of the Lord's atllicte,d as sure as he is an heir of heaven he will in due time have cause to eat his words. That is an unhund)led heart which can allow hard thouMits concernino- the little ones ; but God will put that pro d spirit into the dark until ]l can bear the infirmities of the weak. Be gentle, ye great in Zion, lest ye offend the poor and mean of the congregation. Pride casts a thick shadow over the path of any be- liever who indulges in it. Men love not the proud — their company is a torment, and their very presence an offence ; how much more obnoxious must it be to the Son of God ! Especially must it be exceeding hateful in those who are indebted to grace for the very breath in their nostrils, and who, in themselves are the most detestable of creatures, but are made the sons of God throuu:h m-eat cand unmerit- ed mercy. When we become conceited with our choice experiences, admirable emotions, and marvellousdiscover- ies, and in our imaginary greatness grow unmindful of the Giver of these good gifts, he will soon level us with the ground, and make us groan out of the dust. The smoke of the incense of our pride will blind the eyes to Christ, and hide Christ from the saint. Idolatrous love^ whatever may be the object of it, is so abominable, that it will shut out the light of God's coun- tenance in a short space, unless it be destroyed. Rivals i 292 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. Jesus will not endure ; and unless we f,nve him the high- est throne he will leave us to mourn his absence. Lovo not thy wealth, thy name, thy friends, thy life, thy com- fort, thy husband, thy wife, or thy chUdren, more than thou lovest him, or even so much ; for he will either take them from thee, or else his own delightful presence, and the loss of either would be an evil not woi-th the idolatry which will surely engender it. Sot not your affection on things of earth, lest the comfortable enjoyment of Him who is from above should be withdrawn IVom thee. Unbelief, distrust and worldly care, will also provoke him to return unto his place. If we cannot trust him with ourselves, and all that we have, he will not confide his heart with us. A fit of worldly anxiety has many a time cut off the streams of fellowship. Fretful trouble about many things is a fearful injury to the one thing. All the saints will confess that the fair flower of fellow- ship will not bloom in the atmosphere of carking care. That great rebel, Infidelity, will sometimes turn the key of the gates of Mansoul against the Prince Immanuel him- self, and cause him to return to the palace of his Father. It is a high affront put upon the Lord Jesus when we presume to manage our own business instead of leaving all with him. The old puritan said, " Whenever we carve for ourselves we cut our own fingers !" He might have added, "And worse still, we highly affront the Head of the feast, and cause him to withdraw from the table." Oh ! for grace to leave all with Christ ; it cannot be in better hands, and our own care could never produce results which could for an instant be compared with the effects of his providential consideration. But carnal security is the master sin in this point. Hence, Bunyan makes a feast in the house of that deceit- ful old Diabolian, Mr. Carnal-Security, the scene of the dis- covery of the departure of Prince Immanuel. There is in carnal security a mixture of all other kinds of sin. It is a mo wh nes! rebi bor THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESEllTION. 293 monster composed ot* the deformities of all tho foul sin.« which man can c(nimut. It is iiigrutitiide, piide, worldli- ness, sloth, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence and rebellion in one. It is like those fabled monsters which bore a resemblance to every other creature, inasmuch as the most terrible parts of every beast were in them united into one hideous monstrosity. Now whenever self-confidence ^rows in the heart, and destroys our implicit dependence and our unfeigned humility, it will not be lon^ before Christ and the soul will be far apart — It only remains to add that as we are differently con- stituted, certain sins will have greater power over one than another, and hence one sin may drive the Saviour from one believer, and an opposite sin may grieve him in another ; indeed, any one sin, if harboured against light and knowledge, is quite sufiicient to cast the mind into the doleful condition of a deserted soul. Constant watch- fulness is necessary in order to the preservation of com- munion ; but of this we will say more in another place, so far as any comfortable communion is concerned. It win be hard work to sustain faith when sin is arriv- ed at such a dangerous height ; but in order that the be- liever may be able to do so, by the divine power of the Holy Spirit, let him reflect that his present mournful con- dition is no sign that he is cast away — nay, let him be- lieve it to be the very reverse. If the Lord Jesus had not looked upon him, he would never have known how evil M thing it is to lose a sense of his love. Blind men do not miss the light when it is removed by the setting of the sun ; and if the afflicted soul were wholly blind, he would not lament the hiding of the Son of righteousness. But if this is too high a comfort, let him remember that there is still a fountain opened for sin and foruncleanness ; and while he sorrows for his absent Lord let him not despair, but let him still look to the cross, and hope. Let the deserted one confess his ill-deservings, but let him 294 THE SAINT AND HTS SAVIOUK. 'Ill'' MV}1 3 t i I h It f ^»' i^ I .(;■■ ■{'-' 1 J? remember that his sin is laid ur^on the head of Jesns. Punishment for sin is not in any dcc;^'ee mi:.ed up with the withdrawal which he is now e:;periencing. The be- liever 0\ve3 nothing to punitive justice, and theiefore nothing can be exacted of him. " Tliough the snfteiinos of Christ do not secure us from sufferings, they change the nature and design of our afflictions, so that, instead of their beino; punishments, they are corrections, and are in- flicted not oy the sword of the Judge, but by the rod of the Father."* Let the believer hear the voice of comfort : — " Tb.ou hast not a farthing of debt to pa,y to God's law ; there is no indictment against thee, nor a bill for thee to answer — Christ has paid all."")* Christ's departui-e is not for thy death, but to promote thy better life. He is not gone to demand a writ against thee, he is hut absent to make thee purge out the old leaven, that he may come and keep the feast with thee. Remember also that a chnnofe in the outward dealinors of the Lord Jesus is not to be looked upon as an altera- tion in his love. He has as much affection for us when he puts us in the piison-house of desertion as when he leads us into the pavilion of communion. Immutability will not allow of the shadow of a turning ; and as immuta- bility is stamped as much upon the affection of Christ as upon his divinity itself, it follows that our variable con- dition produces no change in him. " Immutable his will ; Though dark may be my frame, His loving heart is still Unchangeably the same. My soul through many changes goes ; His love no variation knows." That holy martyr. Master John Bradford, thus comfort- ed himself and his friends in a time of gloom — " llie mother sometimes beateth the child, but, yet her heart * Jay's Christian Contemplated. f CoUing's Cordial for a Dping Soul, THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 295 but absent to le may come melteth upon it even in the very beating ; and therefore she casteth the rod into the fire, and calleth the child, giveth it an apple, and dandleth it most motherly. And to say the truth, the love of mothers to their children is but a trace to train us up to behold the love of God towards us ; and therefore saitli he, * Can a mother forget the child of her womb ? ' as much as to say, ' No,, but if she should do so, yet will I not forget thee, saith the Lord of Hosts.' Ah, comfortable saying ! — I will not forget thee." Wait awhile, and the light which is sown for the right- eous shall bring forth a harvest of delights ; but water the ground with the tears of thy repentance, lest the seed should long tarry under the clods. As sure as thou art a quickened soul thou wilt, in the dreary winter of thy Lord's absence, pant for renewed communion, and be thou sure to use all means to obtain this boon. Do as thou didst when thou didst first come to Christ. Read and practise the directions given to the seeking sinner in the third chapter,* for they are well-adapted to thine own case, and then take the advice which follows : — 1. Hunt out and slay tne sm which has caused the coolness of fellowship between thee and thy Lord. 2. Most humbly confess this sin, and ask grace to avoid it in future. 3. Come again as a poor guilty sinner to the cross of Christ, and put thy trust implicitly in him who died upon it. 4. Use thy closet and thy Bible more frequently, and with more earnestness. 5. Be active in serving Christ, and patient in waiting for him, and ere long he will appear to cheer thy spirit with floods of his surpassing love. If all these fail thee, tarry the leisure of thy Master, and thy work shall cer- tainly be rewarded in due time. r a Dying Soul. See p. 150. 296 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. May God the Holy Spirit, by his divine influence, be-, dew with grace the pages of this chapter, that they may minister grace to the afflicted reader. THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 297 TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. Sinner, we beseech thee listen to the warnings of one* who was for a long time sad and sick on account of the hidings of his Lord's face. He was a true and eminent saint, yet mark his sorrows, and let them awaken thee to fear the wrath to come : " Oh, sinners ! I have dearly paid for all the delight I once had in sin, — for all my indifference and lukewarm- ness, my cold and sluggish prayers, my lost and misim- proved time. Beware that you do not provoke him, for he is a jealous God ; for if you do, you shall also find that those sins which you make a slight matter of will tear you to pieces hereafter. You will find them, when your consciences are awakened, to be a heavy and intolerable burden; they will press you down to hell itself. I could not have thought that the displeasure of God had been a thing so bitter, and so very dreadful. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the Haying God, for he is a consuming fire : if his anger be kindled but a little ; you cannot then fix your mind upon any pleasant objects, nor have one easy thought ; you cannot then go about your business, your trade, or your secular affairs, for your souls will be so much amazed that you will be full of horror and consternation. Those of us who have felt the ter- rors of ike Lord, do most earnestly persuade you to for- sake every sin ; for if you indulge in and love your in- iquities, they will set you on fire round about. Oh, that you did but know what you do when you sin ! You are Rev. Timothy Rogers, M. A, I S 298 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. l!:ii'^^ ;• I I \>\ 1 I? i 'I 'V opposing that authority that will avenge itself of all its ODstinate opposers ; you are heaping up fuel for your own destruction ; you are whetting that sword which will en- ter into your bowels ; you are preparing youi'self for bit- terness and trouble; and though God is patient for awhile, yet he will not always be so : the shadows of the night are drawing on, and the doleful time will come when all your mirth will end in teai's, and all your false confidence and your foolish hopes will expire and give up the ghost. And which of you will live when God shall enter into judgment with you ? What will you do ? Where will you go for help when he who is your Maker, — he who ha3 weighed your actions, and observed ycur wan- derings, shall call you to give an account of all these things? If our blessed Lord, when he came near Jerusalem, lifted up his voice anl wept, saying, Oh, that thou hadst hiowiij even thou in this thy day, the things that belong unto thy peace ! what cause have we to mourn over our fellow- creatures, whom we see to be in danger of miserj^, and, alas, they know it not ! Can we see them sleeping on the very edge of ruin, and net be greatly troubled for them ! Oh, poor sinners, you are now sleeping, but the judge is at the door ; you are rolling the pleasant morsel under your tongue, but it will be great vexation to you in the end. How can you lest ? how can you be quiet when you have none of your sins pardoned ? No comfortable relation to God ! no well-grounded hope of heaven ! How can you, with any assurance, go about those things that concern your buying, your selling, and the present life, when your poor souls, that are of a thousand times more value, are neglected all the while ! We have felt great terrors, inexpressible sorrows, from an angry God, and we would fain persuade you not to run upon the th-ick bosses of his buckler, not to dare his justice, not to despise his threats as once it was our folly : but we knew not wha!. we did. We are come out of great tribulation, and THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION, 299 a fiery furnace, and we would fain persuade you to avoid the like danger ; let what we have felt be a caution to you. It was the desire of Dives, in his misery, that he might leave it to go thence to warn his brethren lest they came to the same place of torment ; but it could not be granted. Some of us here come from the very gates of hell to warn you that you may not go thither, — nay, to warn you that you may never go so near it as we did. We wish you so well that we would not have any of you to feel so much sorrow and grief as we have felt. We were once asleep, as you are ; we did not imagine that terror and desolation were so near when they came upon us ; and now, having been 'overtaken by a storm of wrath, we come to warn you that we see the clouds gather, that there is a sound of much rain and of great misery, though your eyes are so fixed on things below, that you see it not, You must speedily arise and seek for a shelter, as you value the salvation of your souls ; you must not put ofi" serious thoughts for your own safety, not for one day, not for one hour longer, lest it be too late. We were travelling with as little thought of danger as some of you, and we fell among thieves ; they plundered us of our peace and comfort, and we were even ready to die, when that God, whose just displeasure brought us low, was pleased to take pity on us, and to send his Son, as the kind Samaritan, to bind up our wounds and to cheer our hearts ; and we cannot be so uncharitable as not to tell you, when we see you going the same way, that there are robbers on the road, and that if you do not either return or change your course you will smart for your temerity as much as we have done. We have been saved indeed at length from our fears, as hyfire ; but we suffered, while they remained, very great loss. Some, perhaps, will be saying within themselves, * / shdtl see no evil, though I walk in the Imaginations of my own heart. These things you talk of are the rmrejproduct of a melancholy temper , that always ■'■i 300 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 'presages the worst, — that is always fHghting itself and others with black and formidable ideas, and seeing I am no way inclinable to thu t distemper, I need not fear any such perplexing thoughts.' But know that no briskness of temper, no sanguine courageous hopes, no jollities nor diversions, can fence you from the wrath of God. Jf you go on in sin, you must feel the bitterness of it either in this or the next world ; and that may, notwithstanding all the strength of your constitution, all the pleasures of your unfearing youth, come upon a sudden. Your souls are always naked and open before God, and he can make terrible impressions of wrath there when he will, though by your cheerfulness and mirth you seem to be at tho greatest distance from it." * ' Ye bold, blaspheming souls, Whose conscience nothing scares ; Ye carnal cold, professing fouls, Whose state's as bad as theirs. (I Repent, or you're undone, And pray to God with speed ; Perhaps the truth may yet be known, And make you free indeed. * The hour of death draws nigh, 'Tis time to drop the mask ; Fall at the feet of Christ, and cry ; He gives to all that ask." XII. " But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us, for it is toward even- ing, and the day is far spent."— Luke xxiv., 29. HESE disciples knew not their Lord, but they loved the unknown stranger who spake so sweetly of him. Blessed are the men who discourse of Jesus ; they shall ever find a wel- come in the hearts and homes of the elect. His name to our hearts is ever melodious, and we love that conversation which is fullest of it. We would willingly afibrdthe chamber on the wall, the table, the stool, and the candlestick, to all those who will talk continually of Him. But, alas ! there are too many who would blush to answer our Saviour's question, " What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another ? "* Too great a number of professors forget the words of the prophet, " Then they that feared the Lord spake often to one another : and the Lord hearkened and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels ; and I * Luke xxiv. 17. m r i; I 1 302 TEE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. will spare them as a man spareth his own son that ser- veth him." * We will not be censorious, but we believe with an old author, that " the metal of the bell is known by the sound of the clapper ; what is in the well will be found in the bucket ; what is in the warehouse will be shown in the shop : and what is in the heart will be bub- bling forth at the mouth." We often miss our Lord's company Ibecause our conver- sation does not please him. When our Beloved goes down into his garden it is to feed there and gather lilies ; f but if thorns and nettles are the onl^'^ products of the soil, he will soon be away to the true beds of spices. When two walk together, an would do an act that in its own nature was unlawful (to slay an innocent child),* sure I am our Saviour might do that which is but indifferent in itself (whether to go or stay) without being charged with the sin of dissembling. But when Christ makes to be gone, the two disciples would not let him go, but one (as it were) gets hold on one arm and the other on the other ; there they hang till they constrain him to continue with them." These were wise men, and were, therefore, loath to part from a fellow traveller from whom they could learn so much. If we are ever privileged to receive Jesus under our roof, let us make haste to secure the door that he may not soon be gone. If he sees us careless concerning him, and cold towards him, he will soon arise and go hence. He will not intrude himself where he is not wanted ; he needs no lodging, for the heaven of heavens is his perpetual palace, and there be * 1 Kings iii. 24. 306 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. many hearts of the contrite where he will find a hearty welcome. When we have the honour of a visit from Prince Imma- nuel let everything be done to protract it. Angels* visits are few and far between : when we have the happiness of meeting therewith, let us, like Jacob, manfully grasp the angel, and detain him, at least until he leaves a blessing. Up, Christian, with a holy bravery, and lay hold on the mercy while it is within reach ! The Son of Man loves those who hold him tightly. He will not resent the fami- liarity, but will approve of thine earnestness. Let the loving bride of the Canticles teach thee by her example, for she glories in her deed when she sings, " I found him whom my soul loveth, I held him, and I would not let him go." True, 'tis amazing grace which can allow such a liberty with the person of so exalted a being ; but see- ing that he invites us to lay hold on his strength, and has sanctioned the act in others, shall we, like Ahaz, when he declined to ask a sign, refuse the favour which our Lord allows ? -To — . " We will maintain our hold ; 'Tis his goodness makes us bold." >s How can we then prolong our communion with the Saviour ? Let us reply to the question by sundry direc- tions, which, by the aid of the Spirit, we will labour to follow. 1. Allow no rivals to intrude. Jesus will never tarry in a divided heart. He must be all or nothing. Search then thy heart ; dethrone its idols : eject all interlopers ; chastise all trespassers ; yea, slay the Diabolians who lurk in thy soul. If we would enjoy uninterrupted fellow- ship with the Son of God we must institute a .rigid inqui- sition against all kinds of sin. A little evil will at times mar our peace, just as a small stone in the shoe will spoil COMMUNION RESERVED. S07 hearty Imma- s' visits iness of asp the Jessing. on the m loves le fami- Let the xample, nd him not let )w such 3ut see- and has vhen he ir Lord ith the 7 direc- our to tarry 1 Search (lopers ; IS who (fellow- inqui- times 11 spoil our walking. Tender are the shoots of this vine of com- munion, and little foxes will done little injury. "The Lord thy God is a jealous God," and Jesus thy husband is jealous also. Sorely did he smite Jerusalem, because she sought affinity with other gods, and chose to herself many lovers. Keep then thy house and heart open to him, and shut to all others. With sin he cannot dwell. Canst thou expect the " angel of the covenant" to dwell with the prince of darkness ? Can there be concord with Christ and Belial ? Awake then, and cry " Away ye pro- fane," my heart is the temple of Jesus, and ye must not defile its hallowed places. Ii they retire not, get to thy- self the scourge of repentance and self- mortification, and if it be laid on lustily they will not long avoid the blows. It behoves us to remember, also, that there are other things besides sins which may become offensive to the Saviour. The nearest friend, the partner of our bosom, or the offspring of our loins, may excite the Lord's jealousy. If these become the objects of an affection which ought to be wholly his, he will be moved to anger with us. The calf was no less an idol because it was made of gold. The brazen serpent, despite its original service, must be broken when men worship it. All things are alike cause of jealousy to Jesus if they are exalted to his throne, since no creature can in the least possess anything deserving of worship. The very mention of a rival's name will suffice to drive our blessed Lord away. He will have the name of Baali taken utterly out of our mouth ; and he alone must be our Ishi. Oh ! true believer, is there no strange god with thee ? Make a thorough search. Bid even thy beloved Rachel rise, for the teraph is often concealed beneath the place where she sitteth. Say not in haste, I am no idolater. The approaches of this sin are insidious in the extreme, and ere thou knowest it thou art entangled in its iron net. The love of the creature has a bewitching power over Ml lit 308 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. men, and they seldom know the treachery of the Delilah until their locks are shorn. Oh, daughters of Zion, let King Solomon alone have your love ; rehearse his name in your songs, and write his achievements on your memo- ries ; so will he dwell in the city of David and ride through your midst in his chariot paved with love for you : but ii ye pay homage to any save himself, he will return unto nis place and make your beauteous city a byword with the enemy. Have no fellowship with strangers, if ye de- sire manifestations of love from the adorable Jesus. " Let none be your love and choice, and the flower of your de- lights, but your Lord Jesus. Set not your heart upon the world, since God hath not made it your portion ; foi it will not fall to you to get two portions, and to rejoice twice, and to be happy twice, and to have an upper hea- ven and an under heaven too. Most of us have a lovei and idol besides our husband, Christ, but it "*' our folly to divide our narrow and little love ; it will not serve foi two. It is best then to hold it whole and together, and to give it to Christ ; for then we get double interest foi our love, when we lend it to, and lay it out upon, Christ; and we are sure, besides, that the stock cannot perish." Let us muse on the words of the writer of The Synor gogue— " Peace, rebel thought, dost thou not know the king, My God is here ? Cannot his presence, if no other thing, Make thee forbear ? Or were he absent, all the standers by Are but his spies ; And well he knows, if thou shouldst it deny, Thy words were lies. If others will not, yet I must, and will, Myself complain. My God, oven now a base, rebellious thought Began to move, And subtly twining with me wouid have wrought Me from my love j COMMUNION RESERVED. 309 Fain he would have me to believe that Sin And then might both Take up my heart together for your inn, And neither loathe The other's company , a while sit st 1, And part again." 2. Give the Saviour p. goodly entertainment, tit for so great a prince, and thus he may be persuaded to make a longer stay. His rank, his honour, and his benevolence entitle him to the most respectful treatment. Shall the Son of God be entertained in any but the best room of the house ? Shall we offer on his altar any save the fat- test of the flock and the herd ? Shall we spare ourselves when he is our guest ? Shall gentlemen spend all their estates that they may sumptuously feast an earthly mon- arch ? and shall we penuriously count the cost of our love to him ? Beloved, we shall have but brief glimpses of Jesus if he does not perceive our souls affected by it. A slight from his friends grieves his spirit, and he withdraws himself. We ought to count it a cheap bargain if wo could give cur all to win the constant indwelling of Jesus. Princes have melted pearls into the wine wherewith they entertained monarchs, let us do the same. Let us make rich offerings to Jesus ; let our duties be more faithfully discharged, our labours more willingly performed, and let our zeal be more eminently fervent. If the altar cease to smoke with incense, the heart will be made empty and void by the departure of its Lord. Self-sacrifice is sweet to our Redeemer, he loves to see his dearly-purchased people confessing that they are not their own. Oh, breth- ren in the Gospel, do more if ye would receive more ; give more largely and ye shall be cheered more abundantly. The self-denying missionary, the laborious pastor, the ear- nest evangelist, and the indefatigable church member, are Generally the persons invited to the royal banquets of esus. He deliafhts to honour the men who wait at hia 310 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. h:'\ E-'-i. gates with diligeiice, and watch for his coming with vigi- lance. Faithful service shall never be unrewarded by the master's notice, and continuance in well-doing shall re- ceive as its recompence a perpetuity of approbation. Hold thou the Saviour, oh believer ! by hands ready for sei'vice and happy to obey. 3. Trust the Lord much while he is with you. Keep no secrets from him. His secrets are with you ; let your secrets be with him. Jesus admires confidence, and if it be not afforded him, he will say, " Farewell," until we can trust him better. So long as we put our lips to the ear of Christ, and tell him all, he will never let us be alone. When we reveal every whit, and hide nothing from him, he is pleased with us; but when we conceal our designs, our troubles, or our fears, he frowns at our want of confidence. If thou desirest Christ for a perpetual guest give him all the keys of thine heart ; let not one cabinet be locked from up him; give him the range of every room and the hey of every chamber; thus you will constrain him to remain. True faith holds the feet of Jesus and prevents his departure: when he rises to continue his journey, she cries, " Not so, my Lord hear onemore word, listen to the wants of thy servant, let at least another of my griefs find a tomb in thy loving heart. Listen to me this once, for I have somewhat to say unto thee which so deeply concerns me, that if thou dost not regard me, I know not whither to resort." Thus she will hold her confident by one continued series of confessions. We doubt not that our loving Lord frequently hides his face from us because we rely not enough upon him. It would be the part of wisdom to transfer our cares to him who car- bth for us ; thus should we imitate David, who urges us to " pour out our hearts before him." Make Christ manager of thine affairs, and so please him. An old writer some- where says, " He who runs before the cloud of divine di- rection goeth a fool's errand:" let us then desist from self-serving, and give ourselves up like children to the COMMUNION RESERVED. 311 , m loving care of a tender parent, to be led, guided, directed, and supplied by our great Covenant Head ; so will he al- ways have business to do at our house, and will make our soul his settled rest. 4. Another method of retaining the company of our Beloved, is to bring in others of his friends to sit with us. It may be if he cometh not to us alone, he will come with them, and if perchance some ill word of ours might urge him to depart, yet, for the sake of others who sit with Lim, he will remain. One of these disciples might not have constrained Christ, but the two effected it. Fire will not tarry in a single coal, but if many be laid together it will be long before it is clean gone. A single tree may not afford much shelter for a traveller, but he will rest beneath the thick boughs of the grove : so will Jesus often sit longer where many of "the trees of the Lord" are planted. Go to the assemblies of the saints, if you would keep the arm of the King of saints. Those who dwell most with the daughters of Jerusalem are most likel}^ to have a goodly share of Emmanuel's company. Cannot any reader add his own testimony to the fact that fellow- ship with the saints is conducive to a continuance of fel- lowship with Jesus ? 5. Earnest prayer is the most potent means of winning continued communion. We have found it true, that the mercy-seat is the place where the Lord meets his servants. Full often our souls have risen from depths of distress to heights of delight, by the simple appeal to heaven, which we by supplication have been allowed to make. We will speak well of the exercise of prayer ; we can endorse all the titles which old divines have given it, such as — the key of heaven, and of all God's cabinets, the conduit of mercy, faith flaming, Jacob's ladder, an invisible and in- vincible weapon, a victory over the Onmipotent, the sweet consumption of cares, a box of ointment broken on the head of Christ, the perfume of heaven, the mount of trans- 312 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. iii' figuration, the soul's messenger, and Satan's scourge ; but we will add another — it is a golden chain which holds the Saviour, and secures him to his people. Christ never lin^ gers long with dumb souls ; if there be no crying out to him, he loves not silence, and he departs and betakes him- self to those hearts which are full of the music of prayer, What a marvellous influence prayer has upon our fellow- ship with Jesus ! We may always measure one by the other. Those pray most fervently and frequently who have been constant attendants on the kind Intercessor ; while, on the o^her hand, those who wrestle the hardest in supplication will hold the angel the longest. Joshua's voice stayed the sun in the heavens for a few hours ; but the voice of prayer can detain the Sun of righteousness for months and even years. Christian Brethren, will you slight this exhortation ? Shall none of these means be tried ? Are you content to suffer your Saviour to depart? Are ye careless as to his company ? Then you have grave cause for fear; there is something vitally wrong. Pass not by this sad admonitory symptom ; search your heart, for a sad disease is there. May the great Physician heal thee. But surely, as joint-heir with Jesus, thou hast longings after him and sighing for his presence. Then let it be thy concern to find him, and, having found him, to con- strain him to abide with thee forever. **Oh, that we could forever sit With Mary, at the MasteJi^a feet ; Be this our happy choice. Our only care, delight, and bliss, Our joy, our heaven on earth be this, To hoar the Bridegroom's voice. ** Oh, that we could with favour'd John, Recline our weary heads upon The dear Redeemer's breast 1 COMMUNION RESERVED. 313 From care, and sin, and sorrow free, Give us, O Lord, to find in thee Our everlasting rest.'' In a short time it will be our joy to hold further con- verse with each other, upon various important points of our knowledge of Christ. We trust we shall then be pri- vileged to enter more fully into the mysteries of connnu- nion, and in the mean time we commend our humble effort to the blessing of Heaven, trusting that some beginners will here read and learn what are the elements of that wondrous experience which falls to the lot of a Christian. 11 314 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. WHO IS UNDER CONCERN OF SOUL. i 1 Friend, — You are now commencing the life of grace, for thou art just awakened to know the evil of sin. You are now feeling the guilt of you life, and are lamenting the follies of your youth. You fear there is no hope of pardon, no prospect of forgiveness, and you tremble lest death should lead your guilty soul unforgiven before its Maker. Hear, then, the word of God. Thy pains for sins are God's work in thy soul. He woundeth thee that thou mayest seek him. He would not have showed thee thy sin if he did not intend to pardon. Thou art now a sin- ner, and Jesus came to save sinners, therefore he came to save thee ; yea, he is saving thee now. These strivings of soul are the work of his mercy ; .there is love in every blow, and grace in every stripe. Believe, O troubled one, that he is able to save thee unto the uttermost, and thou shalt not believe in vain. Now, in the silence of thine agony, look unto him who by his stripes healeth thee, Jesus Christ has suffered the penalty of thy sins, and has endured the wrath of God on thy behalf. See yonder crucified Man on Calvary, and mark thee that those drops of blood are falling for thee, those nailed hands are pierced for thee, and that open side contains a heart full of love to tliee, ** JNone but Jeaus, none but Jesus, Can do helpless sinners good." m COMMUNION llESERVED. 315 It is simple reliance on him which saves. The negro said, " Massa, I fall flat on de promise : " so if you fall flat on the promise of Jesus you shall not find him fail you ; he will bind up your heart, and make an end to the days of your mourning. We shall meet in heaven una day to sing hallelujah to the condescending Lord ; till then may the God of all grace be our hel[)er. Amen. You ^^