THE 
 
 SUIT AID HIS SAVIOUR; 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF THE SOUL IN THE 
 KNOWLEDGE OF JESUS. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE KEY. 0. H. SPUEGEON. 
 
 Chrwt u nil." Cot. iii. 11. 
 
 NEW-YOKK: 
 SHELDON, BLAKEMAN & CO 
 
 BOSTON: GOULD & LINCOLN. 
 CHICAGO I S. C. GRIGGS & CO. 
 
 1858, 
 
 
" 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 speak 
 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." 
 
 SlBBS. 
 
 " And surely this is the sweetest subject that ever was preached on ; is it not 
 as 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 com 
 prehends all the glory and excellency and beauty of all the things in heaven 
 and in earth ?" 
 
 ISAAC AMBROSE. 
 
 W. H. TINSON, Stereotyper. 
 
TO 
 
 THE ONE GOD OF HEAVEN AND EARTH, 
 
 IN 
 
 THE TRINITY OF HIS SACRED PERSONS, 
 
 BE ALL HONOUR AND GLORY, 
 
 WORLD WITHOUT END, 
 
 AMEtf. 
 
 TO THE GLORIOUS FATHER, 
 
 AS THE 
 COVENANT GOD OF ISRAEL ; 
 
 TO THE GRACIOUS S tf, 
 
 THE REDEEMER OF HIS PEOPLE ; 
 
 TO THE HOLY GHOST, 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF S A N C T I F I C A TI N ; 
 BE EVERLASTING PRAISE FOR THAT EXPERIENCE OF FREE GRACK 
 
 AND SOVEREIGN LOVE 
 WHICH IS SIMPLY DESCRIBED IN THIS VOLUME. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I HAVE no idea of what I am expected to say in 
 a preface, and am of opinion that a book is better 
 without an appendage usually so unmeaning. I 
 will, however, make one or two faithful declarations 
 which may, perhaps, shield me from the reader s 
 wrath, should he find my work of less value than 
 he expected. 
 
 Never was a book written amid more incessant 
 toil. Only the fragments of time could be allotted 
 to it, and intense mental and bodily exertions have 
 often rendered me incapable of turning even those 
 fragments to advantage. 
 
 Writing is to me the work of a slave. It is a 
 delight, a joy, a rapture to talk out one s thoughts 
 in words that flash upon the mind at the instant 
 when they are required ; but it is poor drudgery to 
 sit still and groan for thoughts and words without 
 succeeding in obtaining them. Well may a man s 
 books be called his "works," for, if every mind 
 were constituted as mine, it would be work indeed 
 to produce a quarto volume. Nothing but a sense 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 of duty has impelled me to finish this book, which 
 has been more than two years on hand. Yet have 
 I, at times, so enjoyed the meditation which my 
 writing has induced, that I would not discontinue 
 the labour were it ten times more irksome: and 
 moreover, I have some hopes that it may yet be a 
 pleasure to me to serve God with the pen as well 
 as the lip. 
 
 The subject of religious experience is a very 
 wide one, and those points of it upon which I have 
 touched deserve larger notice from a far abler hand 
 than mine. The aged Christian will find very little 
 instruction here ; it will not be proper for him to 
 expect it when he is reminded of the object of the 
 volume. It has been my aim to deal only with the 
 more common and shallow experiences of beginners, 
 and I have left the great deeps for those who have 
 long done business upon them. To comfort the 
 mourner, to confirm the weak, to guide the wander 
 ing, and reassure the doubting has been my great 
 desire. If I may but hear of some trembling sin 
 ners led to Jesus by the following pages, or of some 
 distressed believer enabled to rejoice, it will be an 
 ample recompence to me. 
 
 I have dedicated the work to God, and I now 
 crave His abundant blessing upon it. 
 
 CLAPHAM, September, 1857. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE DESPISED FRIEND 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 FAITHFUL WOUNDS 43 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 JESUS DESIRED 99 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 JESUS PARDONING 155 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 JOT AT CONVERSION If 6 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 COMPLETE IN CHRIST.. . 217 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 LOVE TO JESUS 241 
 
 CHAPTER VIH. 
 LOVE S LOGIC 272 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE 315 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 JESUS HIDING HIMSELF 354 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION 378 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 COMMUNION PRESERVED , 413 
 

 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR, 
 
 I. 
 
 THE DESPISED FRIEND. 
 
 "We esteemed him not." ISA. liii. 3. 
 
 IT would not be easy for some of us to recall the 
 hour when we first heard the name of Jesus. In 
 very infancy that sweet sound was as familiar to our 
 ear as the hush of lullaby. Our earliest recollec 
 tions are associated with the house of God, the 
 family altar, the Holy Bible, the sacred song, and 
 the fervent prayer. Like young Samuels, we were 
 lighted 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 
 
10 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 and goodly heritages ; but nevertheless, being born 
 in sin, and shapen in iniquity," these heavenly pri 
 vileges did not of themselves avail to give us love 
 to Jesus, and pardon by his blood. 
 
 We are often compelled to weep over sins aggra 
 vated by light as clear as noonday ordinances un- 
 (Jervalued from their very frequency warnings 
 despised, although accompanied with tears from a 
 parent s eye and loathings felt in the heart, if not 
 expressed by the lips, to those very blessings which 
 were the rich benisons of heaven. In our own per 
 sons we are witnesses to the fact of innate depra 
 vity, the birth-plague of man ; and we can testify 
 to the doctrine that grace, and grace alone, can 
 change the heart. The words of Isaiah are ours 
 with an emphasis, notwithstanding all the hallowed 
 influences which surrounded us : and in uttering 
 the confession, " we esteemed him not," the haunts 
 of our childhood, the companions of cur youth, and 
 the sins of our manhood, unanimously confirm our 
 truthfulness. 
 
 Starting, then, with our own experience, we are 
 led to infer that those who were denied our advan 
 tages will certainly 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 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 11 
 
 was riot, whose youth was license, and whose ma 
 turity was crime, be able to adopt language less 
 humiliating ? No ; we believe that all men of this 
 class, who are now redeemed from the hand of the 
 enemy, will readily 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 produce a single 
 saint who did not once pass by the cross with indif 
 ference, if not contempt. 
 
 Whether we review the " noble army of mar 
 tyrs," "the goodly fellowship of the prophets," "the 
 glorious company of the apostles," or "the holy 
 Church throughout all the world," we shall not dis 
 cover a single lover of the adorable Redeemer who 
 will not join the general confession, " We esteemed 
 him not." 
 
 Pause, attentive reader, and ask thyself whether 
 thou dost esteem him now ; for possibly it may 
 happen that thou hast not as yet seen in him any 
 " beauty that thou shouldest desire him," nor canst 
 thou subscribe to the exclamation of the spouse, 
 "Yea, he is altogether lovely." Should this be 
 thine unhappy condition, a meditation thereon may, 
 under the Holy Spirit s influence, be of much use 
 to thee ; and I beseech thee, while we unfold the 
 secrets of what was once our prison-house, be thou 
 intensely anxious that by any means thou also may- 
 est escape a bondage which deprives thee of joy 
 
12 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 here, and will shut thee out from bliss here 
 after. 
 
 "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 
 unshapen clay which we once were ; let us remem 
 ber "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 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 these lie like immense boulders on the sides of 
 the hill of life, sure testifiers to the rock within. 
 
 Few men would dare to read their own autobi 
 ography, if all their deeds were recorded in it ; few 
 can look back upon their entire career without a 
 blush. " "We have all sinned and come short of 
 his glory." None of us can lay claim to perfection. 
 True, at times a forgetful self-complacency bids us 
 exult in the virtue of our lives ; but when faithful 
 memory awakes, how instantly she dispels the illu 
 sion ? She waves her magic wand, and in the 
 king s palace, frogs arise in multitudes ; the pure 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 13 
 
 rivers at her glance become blood ; the whole land 
 is creeping with loathsomeness. Where we ima 
 gined purity, lo, imperfection 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 
 sunlight 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 points to deep scars, the offspring of wounds re 
 ceived in the service of the Evil One. Some 
 amongst our chosen men, in their days of unregene- 
 racy, were notorious for guilt, and could well write 
 with Bunyan* " As for my own natural life, for 
 the time that I was without God in the world, 
 it was, indeed, according to the course of this world 
 and the spirit that now worketh in the children of 
 disobedience (Eph. ii. 2, 3). It was my delight to 
 be taken captive by the devil at his will (2 Tim. ii. 
 26), being filled with all unrighteousness ; the 
 
 * Grace Abounding. 
 
14: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 which did also so strongly work, both in my heart 
 and life, that I had but few equals, both for curs 
 ing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the holy 
 name of God." Suffice it, however, that by each 
 of us open sins have been committed, which mani 
 fest that " we esteemed him not." 
 
 Could we have rebelled against our Father with, 
 so high a hand, if his son had been the object of 
 our love ? Should we have so perpetually tram 
 pled on the commands of a venerated Jesus? 
 Could we have done such despite to his authority, 
 if our hearts had been knit to his adorable person ? 
 Could we have sinned so terribly, if Calvary had 
 been dear to us ? Nay ; surely our clouds of trans 
 gressions testify our former want of love to him. 
 Had we esteemed the God-man, should we so 
 entirely have neglected his claims? could we have 
 wholly forgotten his loving words of command? 
 Do men insult the persons they admire? Will 
 they commit high treason against a king they love ? 
 Will they slight the person they esteem, or wan 
 tonly make sport of him they venerate ? And yet 
 we have done all this, and more ; whereby the 
 least word of flattery concerning any natural love 
 to Christ is rendered to our now honest hearts as 
 hateful as the serpent s hiss. These iniquities 
 might not so sternly prove us to have despised our 
 Lord had they been accompanied by some little 
 service to him. Even now, when we do love his 
 
THE DESPISED FRIEND. 15 
 
 name, we are offc unfaithful, but now our affection 
 helps us " to creep in service where we cannot 
 go ;" but before our acts were none of them sea 
 soned with the salt of sincere affection, but were 
 all full of the gall of bitterness. O beloved, let us 
 not seek to avoid the weight of this evidence, but 
 let us own that our gracious Lord has much to lay 
 to our charge, since we chose to obey Satan rather 
 than the Captain of salvation, and preferred sin to 
 holiness. 
 
 Let the self-conceited Pharisee boast that he was 
 born free we see on our wrists the red marks of 
 the iron ;.. let him glory that he was never blind 
 our eyes can yet remember the darkness of Egypt, 
 in which we discerned not the morning star. Others 
 may desire the honour of a merited salvation we 
 know that our highest ambition can only hope for 
 pardon and acceptance by grace alone ; and well 
 we remember the hour when the only channel of 
 that grace was despised or neglected by us. 
 
 The Boole of Truth shall next witness against us. 
 The time is not yet erased from memory when this 
 sacred fount of living water was unopened by us, 
 our evil hearts placed a stone over the mouth of the 
 well, which even conscience could not remove. 
 Bible dust once defiled our fingers; the blessed vo 
 lume was the least sought after of all the books in 
 the library. 
 
 Though now we can truly say that His word is 
 
16 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJR. 
 
 " a matchless temple where we delight to be, to 
 cotemplate the beauty, the symmetry, and the mag 
 nificence of the structure, to increase our awe, and 
 excite our devotion to the Deity there preached 
 and adored ;"* yet at one sad period of our lives 
 we refused to tread the jewelled floor of the tem 
 ple, or when from custom s sake we entered it, we 
 paced it with hurried tread, unmindful of its sanc 
 tity, heedless of its beauty, ignorant of its glories, 
 and unsubdued by its majesty. 
 
 Now we can appreciate Herbert s rapturous affec 
 tion expressed in his poem : 
 
 " Oh book ! infinite sweetness ! let my heart 
 
 Suck every letter, and a honey gain, 
 Precious for any grief in any part ; 
 
 To clear the breast, to mollify all pain." 
 
 But then every ephemeral poem or trifling novel 
 could move our hearts a thousand times more easily 
 than this "book of stars," "this god of books." 
 Ah ! well doth this neglected Bible prove us to 
 have esteemed Jesus but lightly. Yerily, had we 
 been full of affection to him, we should have sought 
 him in his word. Here he doth .unrobe himself, 
 showing his inmost heart. Here each page is 
 stained with drops of his blood, or emblazoned with 
 rays of his glory. At every turn we see him, as 
 
 * Boyle. 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 17 
 
 divine and human, as dying and jet alive, as bu 
 ried but now risen, as the victim and the priest, as 
 the prince aijd saviour, and in all those various 
 offices, relationships and conditions, each of which 
 render him dear to his people and precious to his 
 saints. Oh let us kneel before the Lord, and own 
 that a we esteemed him not," or else we should 
 have walked with him in the fields of Scripture, and 
 held communion with him in the spice-beds of in 
 spiration. 
 
 The Throne of Grace, so long unvisited by us, 
 equally proclaims our former guilt. Seldom were 
 our cries heard in heaven ; our petitions were for 
 mal and lifeless, dying on the lip which carelessly 
 pronounced them. Oh sad state of crime, when 
 the holy offices of adoration were unfulfilled, the 
 censer of praise smoked not with a savour accepta 
 ble unto the Lord, nor were the vials of prayer fra 
 grant with precious odours ! 
 
 Unwhitened by devotion, the days of the calen 
 dar were black with sin ; unimpeded by our sup 
 plication, the angel of judgment speeded his way 
 to our destruction. At the thought of those days 
 of sinful silence, our minds are humbled in the 
 dust ; and never *can we visit the mercy-seat with 
 out adoring the grace which affords despisers a 
 ready welcome. 
 
 But why went not " our heart in pilgrimage ?" 
 Why sung we not that " tune which all things hear 
 
18 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 and fear?" Why fed we not at "the Church s 
 banquet," on this " exalted manna ?" What an 
 swer can we give more full and complete than this 
 " We esteemed him not ?" Our little regard of 
 Jesus kept us from his throne : for true affection 
 would have availed itself of the ready access which 
 prayer affords to the secret chamber of Jesus, and 
 would thereby have taken her fill of loves. Can 
 we now forsake the throne ? ~No ; our happiest 
 moments are spent upon our knees, for there Jesus 
 manifests himself to us. We prize the society of 
 this best of friends, for his divine countenance 
 " giveth such an inward decking to the house where 
 he lodgeth, that proudest palaces have cause to 
 envy the gilding." We delight to frequent the 
 shades of secrecy, for there our Saviour allows us 
 to unbosom our joys and sorrows, and roll them 
 alike on him. 
 
 O Lamb of God ! our prayerlessness bids us con 
 fess that once we considered thee to have neither 
 form nor comeliness. 
 
 Furthermore, our avoidance of the people of God 
 confirms the humiliating truth. We who now stand 
 in the " sacramental host of God s elect," glorjdng 
 in the brotherhood of the righfeous, were once 
 " strangers and foreigners." The language of Ca 
 naan was to our ear either an unmeaning babble at 
 which we scoffed, a harsh jargon which we sought 
 not to imitate, or an " unknown tongue" above our 
 
THE DESPISED FEIEND. 19 
 
 powers of interpretation. The heirs of life were 
 either despised as " earthen pitchers," the work of 
 the hands of the potter, or we removed from their 
 society, conscious that we were not fit compeers for 
 the "precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine 
 gold." Many have been the weary looks which we 
 cast upon the time-piece when, in pious company, 
 the theme has been too spiritual for our grovelling 
 understanding ; full often have we preferred 
 the friendship of the laughing worldling to that of 
 the more serious believer. 
 
 Need we ask the source of this dislike ? The bit 
 ter stream is not like the river of Egypt, silent as 
 to its source : it proclaims its own origin plainly 
 enough ; and the ear of self-partiality cannot be 
 deaf to the truthful sound " Ye loved not the ser 
 vants, because ye esteemed not their master ; ye 
 dwelt not amid the brethren, for ye had no friend 
 ship towards the firstborn of the family." 
 
 One of the plainest evidences of alienation from 
 God is a want of attachment to his people. In a 
 greater or less degree this once existed in each of us. 
 True, there were some Christians whose presence 
 always afforded us pleasure ; but we must be aware 
 that our delight in their company was occasioned 
 more by the affability of their manners, or the win 
 ning style of their address, than by the fact of their 
 intrinsic excellence. We valued the gem for its 
 setting, but a common pebble in the same ring 
 
20 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 would have equally engrossed our attention. The 
 saints, as saints, were not our chosen friends, nor 
 could we saj, " I am a companion of all those that 
 fear thee." All hail, thou leader of the host ! we 
 boldly own that from the moment when we first 
 loved thy person, all thy followers have been dear 
 to us, there s not a lamb amongst thy flock we 
 would disdain to feed ; thy servants may be mocked 
 by contempt, persecuted by cruelty, branded with 
 infamy, oppressed by power, humbled by poverty, 
 and forgotten by fame ; but to us they are the " ex 
 cellent of the earth," and we are not ashamed to 
 call them brethren. 
 
 Such sentiments are the finest products of esteem 
 for the Redeemer, and their former absence is con 
 clusive evidence that we then " esteemed him not." 
 We have no further need of aid in this self-con 
 demnation. 
 
 Broken Sabbaths start like warrior clansmen from 
 the wild heath of time ; they point to the deserted 
 sanctuary, for which they would execute a dread 
 revenge did not the shield of Jesus cover us ; for, lo ! 
 their bows are stringed with neglected ordinances, 
 and their arrows are despised messages of mercy. 
 
 But wherefore these accusers ? Conscience, the 
 ranger of the soul, hath seen enough. He will af 
 firm that he hath beheld the ear closed to the woo 
 ing voice of the friend of sinners : that full often 
 the eyes have been averted from the cross when 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 21 
 
 Jesus himself was visibly set forth. Let him give 
 in his own evidence. Hear him. He saith : I 
 have witnessed the barring of the heart to the en 
 trance of Jesus ; I have seen the whole man, in 
 arms to repair the breaches which a powerful min 
 ister had caused ; I have been present when the 
 struggle against the Saviour has been as fierce as 
 the ravening wolf. In vain the sprinkled blood to 
 rivet the attention heedless of Calvary or Gethse- 
 mane, this mad soul refused to see the beauties of 
 the Prince of Life, but rather spurned him from the 
 heart which was his lawful throne. The sum and 
 substance of my declaration is, " "We esteemed him 
 not." 
 
 Away, then, O pride ! we know that " without 
 the sovereign influence of God s extraordinary and 
 immediate grace, men do very rarely put off all thy 
 trappings, till they who are about them put on their 
 winding-sheet ;"* but if aught can lay thee in the 
 grave, the retrospect of our treatment of our loving 
 Lord might avail to do it. Pause then, O Chris 
 tian, and thus soliloquize : " I once scorned him 
 who loved me with an everlasting love, I once es 
 teemed him as a root out of a dry ground. I served 
 him not, I cared not for his blood, his cross, or his 
 crown ; and yet I am now become one of his own 
 children. Yerily, to grace I will for ever sing : 
 
 * Clarendon. 
 
*a THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 Great God of wonders ! all thy ways 
 Are matchless, godlike, and divine, 
 
 But the fair glories of thy face 
 
 More godlike and unrivalled shine : 
 
 Who is a pardoning God like thee ? 
 
 Or who hath grace so rich and free ? " 
 
 II. We now enter upon an examination of the 
 latent causes of this sin. When the disease is 
 removed, it may be useful to learn its origin, that 
 we may serve others and benefit ourselves. 
 
 Our coldness towards the Saviour resulted pri 
 marily from the natural evil of our hearts. We 
 can plainly discern why the dissolute and repro 
 bate entertain but little affection for purity and 
 excellence : the self-same reason may be given for 
 our disregard of the incarnation of virtue in the 
 person of our Lord Jesus. Sin is a madness, dis 
 qualifying the mind for sober judgment ; a blind 
 ness, rendering the soul incapable of appreciating 
 moral beauty ; it is in fact such a perversion of all 
 the faculties, that under its terrible influence men 
 will " call evil good, and good evil ; they will put 
 darkness for light, and light for darkness; bitter 
 for sweet, and sweet for bitter."* To us in our 
 fallen condition fiends often appear more fair than 
 angels, we mistake the gates of hell for the portals 
 of bliss, and prefer the garnished lies of Satan to the 
 
 * Isaiah v. 20. 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 23 
 
 eternal verities of the Most High. Revenge, lust, 
 ambition, pride, and self-will, are too often exalted 
 as the gods of man s idolatry ; while holiness, 
 peace, contentment, and humility are viewed as 
 unworthy of a serious thought. O sin, what hast 
 thou done ! or rather, what hast thou undone ! 
 Thou hast not been content to rob humanity of its 
 crown, to drive it from its happy kingdom, to mar 
 its royal garments, and despoil its treasure ; but 
 thou hast done more than this ! It sufficed not to 
 degrade and dishonour; thou hast even wounded 
 thy victim ; thou hast blinded his eyes, stopped 
 his ears, intoxicated his judgment, and gagged his 
 conscience ; yea, the poison of thy venomed shaft 
 hath poured death into the fountain. Thy malice 
 hath pierced the heart of manhood, and thereby 
 hast thou filled his veins with corruption and his 
 bones with depravity. Yea, O monster, thou hast 
 become a murderer, for thou hast made us dead in 
 trespasses and sins ! 
 
 This last word opens up the entire mystery ; for 
 if we are spiritually dead, it is of course impossible 
 for us to know and reverence the Prince of glory. 
 Can the dead be moved to ecstasies, or corpses 
 excited to rapture ? Exercise your skill on yonder 
 lifeless body. It has not yet become a carnival for 
 worms. The frame is still complete, though life 
 less. Bring hither lute and harp ; let melodies 
 most sweet, and harmonies unequalled, attempt to 
 
24 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 move the man to pleasure : he smileth not at thi 
 swelling strain, he weepeth not at the plaintive 
 cadence ; yea, could the orchestra of the redeemed 
 pour forth their music, he would be deaf to the 
 celestial charm. 
 
 Will you assault the city by another gate? 
 Place then before tnose eyes the choicest flowers 
 that e er were grown since Eden s plants were 
 blasted. Doth he regard the loveliness of the rose 
 or the whiteness of the lily ? Nay, the man know- 
 eth no more of their sweetness than doth the water 
 of Nilus of the lotus which it beareth on its bosom. 
 Come, ye gales of Araby, and winds laden with 
 the spicy odours of Ceylon ; let the incense of 
 fragrant gums, of frankincense and myrrh, smoke 
 before him ; yet, motionless as a statue, the nostril 
 is not distended, nor doth pleasure sit upon the lip. 
 Aye, and ye may bring to your aid more powerful 
 means. Ye may combine the crash of the ava 
 lanche, the roar of the cataract, the fury of the 
 ocean, the howling of the winds, the rumbling of 
 the earthquake, and the roll of the thunder : but 
 these sounds, united into one godlike shout, could 
 not arouse the slumberer from his fatal couch. He 
 is dead, doth in one word solve the mystery. So 
 also we, though quickened by the Holy Ghost, 
 were once dead in sin, and hence " we esteemed 
 him not." Here is the root of all our misdeeds, 
 the source of all our iniquity. 
 
THE DESPISED FKIP;ND. "25 
 
 When we are asked to point out the parent of 
 light, we turn our finger to the sun above ; and if 
 the question be proposed, Whence cometh evil? 
 we point within us to an evil heart of unbelief 
 which departeth from the living God. 
 
 The secondary causes of the folly which we once 
 committed lie very near the surface, and may repay 
 a moment s observation. Self-esteem had much to 
 do with our ill-treatment of " the sinner s Friend." 
 Conceit of our own deserts made us indifferent to 
 the claims of one who had procured for us a per 
 fect righteousness. " The whole need not a 
 physician :" and we felt insulted by the language 
 of a gospel which spoke to us as undeserving 
 beings. The Cross can have little power where 
 pride conceals the necessity of a pardon ; a sacri 
 fice 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 which 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 poverty, we yet hoped by future obe 
 dience to reverse the sentence, and were utterly 
 unwilling to accept a salvation which required a 
 renunciation of all merit and simple trust on the 
 crucified Redeemer. Never until all the work of 
 
 2 
 
26 ** THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 
 
 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 ourselves in the garment of 
 of free justification. No man wdll 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 through, and slays it ; a 
 sly, insensible enemy, not perceived." Under the 
 sad influence of this power we commonly love him 
 best who does us the most harm ; for the flatterer 
 who feeds our vanity w r ith pleasing cries of 
 " Peace, peace," is far more regarded than that sin 
 cere friend, the blessed Jesus, who earnestly warns 
 us of our ill estate. But when self-confidence is 
 removed when the soul is stripped by conviction 
 when the light of the spirit reveals the loath 
 some state of the heart when the power ol the 
 Creature fails, how precious is Jesus ! As the 
 drowning mariner clutches the floating spar as 
 the dying man looks to some great physician as 
 the criminal values his pardon, so do w^e then 
 esteem the deliverer of our souls as the Prince of 
 
THE DESPISED FRIEND. 27 
 
 the 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 replied,*** 
 " Here am I ; I am better than the riches of Egypt, 
 and my reproach is more to be desired than hidden 
 treasures." The answer was, "Thou art not the 
 wealth that I seek for ; I pant not for an airy 
 wealth like thine, O Jesus ! I do not care for a 
 wealth above in the future I desire a wealth here 
 in the present ; I want a treasure that I can grasp 
 now / 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 
 
28 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 freed from pain of body, but I do not ask for health 
 of soul, that is not what I 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 filled to 
 the brim, that I may drink it merrily ; I love the 
 jovial evening, and the joyous day, I want the 
 dance, the revelry, and other fair delights of this 
 . Avorld ; give your hereafter to those who are enthu 
 siasts let them live on hope ; I prefer this world 
 and the present." 
 
 Thus did we each in a different fashion set our 
 affection on things below, and despise the things 
 above. Surely he was 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 was a man that could look 
 no-ways but downwards, with a muck-rake in his 
 hand ; there stood also one over his head with a 
 celestial crown in his hand, and proffered him that 
 crown for his muck-rake ; but the man did neither 
 look up nor regard, but raked to himself the straws 
 and dust of the floor." 
 
 While we love the world, " the love of the father 
 is not in us ;"* nor the love of Jesus the son. 
 Two masters we cannot serve. The world and 
 
 1 John ii. 15. 
 
THE DESPISED FEIEND. 29 
 
 Jesus never will agree We must be able to sing 
 the first portion of Madame Guion s stanza before 
 we can truly join in its concluding words : 
 
 " Adieu ! ye vain delights of earth, 
 Insipid sports, and childish mirth, 
 
 I taste no sweets in you ; 
 Unknown delights are in 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 Christ 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 spiritually 
 blind, pay willing homage to him. It needs no 
 eloquence to set forth Christ to those who see him 
 by faith, for in truth he is his own orator ; his glory 
 speaks, his condescension speaks, 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 Christ Jesus, or surely they would dig in 
 
30 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 
 
 it night and day. They have not yet discovered 
 the pearl of great price, or they would have sold 
 their all to buy the field wherein it lies. The 
 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 ermatch the sculptor to carve his image 
 even were it possible to chisel it in a massive block 
 of diamond. There is nought in nature comparable 
 to him. Before his radiance the brilliance 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 " per 
 son is beheld. Ah, ye who pass him by without 
 regard, it is well said by Rutherford, " Oh if you 
 knew him, and saw his beauty, your love, your 
 heart, your desires, would close with him and 
 cleave to him. Love, by nature, when it seeth, 
 cannot but cast out its spirit and strength upon 
 amiable objects, and good things, and things love 
 worthy; and what fairer thing is there than Christ ?" 
 The Jewish world crucified him because they knew 
 not their king ; and we rejected him because we 
 had not seen his adaptation 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 mine eyes, 
 so that I could not see the sun of justice and the 
 light of truth ; I, being the son of darkness, was 
 
THE DESPISED FEIEND. 81 
 
 involved in darkness; I loved my darkness, be 
 cause I knew not thy light ; I was blind, and loved 
 my blindness, and did walk from darkness to dark 
 ness ; but Lord, thou art my God, who hast led 
 me from darkness and the shadow of death ; hast 
 called me into this glorious light, and behold I 
 see." Those days of soul-eclipse are gone, but 
 never can we too much bewail them. Sad were 
 those hours when the morning star shone not, when 
 the Cross had no charms, and the glorious Redeemer 
 no esteem. Could tears obliterate them from the 
 annals of the past, our eyes should empty their 
 cisterns ere our cheeks should be dry could 
 prayers recall them, we would besiege the throne 
 with incessant supplications. They are gone, ala! 
 beyond the arm of even omnipotence to restore 
 them ; but we rejoice to see their iniquity blotted 
 out and their sin entirely covered. 
 
 The river of sinful neglect of Jesus has doubtless 
 other tributary sources which we cannot now tarry 
 to notice. Contemplation need not here wander 
 in a maze, she hath a path laid straight before her; 
 unchain her feet and bid her conduct you over the 
 field of memory, that with her you may count the 
 other rills which fed this noxious stream. 
 
 III. We come now to the practical part of our 
 meditation, and consider the emotions which ought 
 to be excited by it. 
 
32 THE SAINT AND HIS 8AVIGUK. 
 
 First, then, we think deep penitential sorrow will 
 well become us. As tears are the fit moisture for 
 the grave, as ashes are a fit crown for the head of 
 mourning, so are penitential feelings the proper 
 mementoes of conduct now forsaken and abhorred. 
 We cannot understand the Christianity of those 
 men who can narrate their past history with a kind 
 of self-congratulation. We have met with some 
 who will recount their former crimes with as much 
 gusto as the old soldier tells his feats in arms. 
 Such men will even blacken themselves to render 
 their case more 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 con 
 verted man to tell the sad tale of his former life ; 
 free grace is thus glorified, and divine power ex 
 tolled, 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 right spirit, 
 with expressions of unfeigned regret and repen 
 tance. We object not to the narration of the deeds 
 of our unregenerate condition, but to the mode in 
 which it is too often done. Let sin have its monu 
 ment, but let it be a heap of stones cast by the 
 hands of execration not a mausoleum erected by 
 the hands of affection. Give it the burial of Ab- 
 
THE DESPISED FRIEND. 33 
 
 salom let it not sleep in the sepulchre of the 
 kings. 
 
 Can we, beloved, enter the dark vault of our 
 former ignorance without a feeling of oppressive 
 gloom? Can we traverse the ruins of our mis 
 spent years without sighs of regret? Can we be 
 hold the havoc of our guilt, and smile at the 
 destruction ? Nay. It is ours to bewail what we 
 cannot efface, and abhor what we cannot retract. 
 
 O fellow-heir of the kingdom, let us go together 
 to the 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 some 
 alabaster-box of very precious ointment wherewith 
 to anoint him, or at any rate let our eyes supply 
 a tribute of true gratitude. We approach his 
 sacred person, and on his feet we see the impress 
 of his love deep-cut by the piercing nails. Come 
 now, my heart ! bewail that wound, for thou didst 
 make it ; the soldier was but thy servant who did 
 thy bidding, but the cruel act was thine. Note 
 well his hands which firmly grasp thee ; they too 
 have their scars ; and weep at the remembrance 
 that these were made for thee. For thee he bore 
 the ignominy of the cross, the pain of crucifixion. 
 Turn not thine eyes away until the hole of the side 
 has been well pondered. See there that frightful 
 gash, deep mine which reacheth to his heart. And 
 this, my soul, was done for thee! dost thou not 
 
 2* 
 
34: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 love the sufferer? Yea, thou dost, with a love as 
 deep and bottomless as the ocean ; but forget not 
 that once thou didst despise him. Many a time 
 hast thou slighted this gracious friend; thy hus 
 band was once hated by thee; thy beloved has 
 often received contumely and scorn from thee. 
 Not long ago thou didst mock, despise, and insult 
 him. Hard words has thou spoken of him, and 
 ill deeds hast thou done to him. His wooings 
 thou didst disregard, the tender offerings of love 
 thou didst trample under foot, and the deep anguish 
 which he endured for thee was in thine ears an 
 idle tale. What ! are the fountains dry ? When 
 will thy sorrow find better cause for coining itself 
 in tears ? Canst thou afford a silly story of a love 
 sick maid a tear or two, and shall not this thyself 
 and Jesus move 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 might be fit 
 mourners to weep thee away in showers ; but yet 
 we are oft hard as the granite rock, and cold as 
 the mountain which storeth up ^ts snow, which it 
 might well afford to lavish fouh in rivers. We 
 should long to feel the sweet pleasure of repent 
 ance, for indeed it is no common delight. Howe 
 has excellently described the joy of penitential 
 grief in his " Delight in God :" 
 
 " There is pleasure mingled with such tears, and 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 35 
 
 \v ith 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 fountain. When the soul finds 
 itself unbound and set at liberty, when it can freely 
 pour out itself to God, dissolve kindly and melt 
 before him, it doth it with regret only at what it 
 hath done and been, not at what it is now doing, 
 except that it can do it no more ; affecting even 
 to be infinite herein, while it yet sees it must be 
 confined within some bounds. It loves to lie in 
 the dust and abase itself; and is pleased with the 
 humiliation, contrition, and brokenness of heart 
 which repentance towards God includes in it. So 
 that as God is delighted with this sacrifice, so it is 
 with the offering of it up to him. Many men 
 apprehend a certain sweetness in revenge; such 
 a one finds it only in this just revenge upon him 
 self. How unexpressible a pleasure accompanies 
 its devoting itself to God, when bemoaning itself, 
 and returning with weeping and supplication, it 
 says, c Now, lo ! I come to thee, thou art the Lord 
 my God, I 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 communication. Take now 
 the soul which thou hast made ; possess thy own 
 right ; enter upon it ; stamp it with the entire im- 
 
36 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 pression 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 wherewith I 
 was wont to provoke thee to jealousy ? I will now 
 make mention of thy name, and of thine only. I 
 bind myself to thee in everlasting bonds, in a cove 
 nant never to be forgotten. : 
 
 Let not a libation of tears be the only offering 
 at the shrine of Jesus ; let us also rejoice with joy 
 unspeakable. If we have need to lament our sin, 
 how much more to rejoice at our pardon ! If our 
 previous state moves us to tears, shall not our new 
 condition cause our hearts to leap for joy ? Yes, 
 we must, we will praise the Lord for his sovereign, 
 distinguishing grace. We owe him an eternal 
 song for this change in our position ; he has made 
 us to differ, and this from mere unmerited mercy, 
 since we, like others, " esteemed him not." He 
 certainly did not elect us to the high dignity of 
 union with himself because of any love we had 
 toward him, for we confess the very reverse. It is 
 said of the writer s sainted predecessor, Dr. Rip- 
 pon, that when asked why God chose his people, 
 he replied, " Because he chose them ;" and when 
 the question was repeated, he answered yet again, 
 " Because he did choose them, and if you ask me 
 a hundred times I can give you no other reason." 
 Yerily it is " even so Father, because so it seemed 
 good in thy sight." Let. our gratitude for divine 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 37 
 
 grace leap forth in praise ; let our whole man be 
 vocal to his honour who has elected us in sover 
 eignty, redeemed us by blood, and called us by 
 grace. 
 
 Should we not also be moved to the deepest pros 
 tration of spirit at the remembrance of our guilt ? 
 Ought not the subject of our present contempla 
 tion to be a stab in the very heart of pride ? Come 
 hither, Christian, and though now arrayed in the 
 garments of salvation, behold here thy former 
 nakedness. Boast not of thy riches, remember 
 how sorry a beggar once thou wast. Glory not in 
 thy virtues, they are exotics in thy heart ; remem 
 ber the deadly plants the native growth of that 
 evil soil. Stoop thyself to the earth, and though 
 thou canst not veil thyself with wings as angels do, 
 let repentance and self-abhorrence serve thee instead 
 thereof. Think not that humility is weakness ; it 
 shall supply the marrow of strength to thy bones. 
 Stoop, and conquer ; bow thyself, and become 
 invincible. The proud man has no power over his 
 fellows ; the beasts of the forest tremble not at the 
 loftiness of the giraffe, but the crouching lion is 
 the monarch of the plain. He who esteems him 
 self but little, stands on a vantage-ground with his 
 fellow-men. Like an eastern house, the heart has 
 a lowly entrance, and every guest must bow his 
 head ere he can cross the threshold. He who has 
 felt his own ruin will not imagine the case of any 
 
38 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOTJK. 
 
 to be hopeless ; nor will lie think them too fallen 
 to be worthy his regard. Though he may be a 
 priest or Levite in the temple of his God, he will 
 not feel degraded if he stain his hands in binding 
 up the wounds of the victims of evil. Like the 
 friend of publicans and sinners, he will seek out 
 the sick who need a physician. Christianity has 
 founded a colony for the outcasts of society. The 
 founder of Rome welcomed to his new-built city 
 the dregs of all the nations of the earth ; so let 
 every Christian believe that Zion s inhabitants are 
 to be gathered from haunts of sin and chambers of 
 vice. How prone are we to forestal the damnation 
 of men ! How often do we write in our book of 
 doom the names of many whom we afterwards dis 
 cover to have been " ordained unto eternal life I" 
 The astronomer will believe that the most erratic 
 comet will yet accomplish its journey, and revisit 
 our sphere ; but we give up those for lost, who 
 have not wandered one-half the distance from the 
 centre of light and life. "We find an excuse for 
 inaction in the fancied hopelessness of sinners ; 
 while fastidious delicacy, by the fear of pollution, 
 seeks to mask at once our indolence and pride. If 
 we had right views of ourselves, we should judge 
 none too base to be reclaimed, and should count it 
 no dishonour to bear upon the shoulders of our 
 sympathy, the most wandering of the flock. "We 
 have amongst us too much of the spirit of " Stand 
 
THE DESPISED FKIEND. 39 
 
 by, for I am holier than thou." Those whom Jesus 
 would have grasped by the hand, we will scarcely 
 touch with a pair of tongs ; such is the pride of 
 many professors, that they need but the name to 
 be recognised at once as the true successors of the 
 ancient Pharisees. If we were more like Christ, 
 we should be more ready to hope for the hopeless, 
 to value the worthless, and to love the depraved. 
 The following anecdote, which the writer received 
 from the lips of an esteemed minister of the Church 
 of England, may perhaps, as a fact, plead more forci 
 bly than words. A clergyman of a parish in Ire 
 land, in the course of his visitations, had called 
 upon every one of his flock with but one exception. 
 This was, a woman of most abandoned character, 
 and he feared that by entering her house he might 
 give occasion of offence to gainsay ers, and bring 
 dishonour upon his profession. One Sabbath, he 
 observed her among the frequenters of his church, 
 and for weeks after he noticed her attention to the 
 word of life. He thought, too, that amid the sound 
 of the responses he could detect one sweet and ear 
 nest voice, solemnly confessing sin, and imploring 
 mercy. The bowels of his pity yearned over this 
 fallen daughter of Eve ; he longed to ask her if 
 her heart were indeed broken on account of sin ; 
 and he intensely desired to speak with her con 
 cerning the abounding grace which, he hoped, had 
 plucked her from the burning. Still, the same 
 
40 THE SAINT AND HIS 8AVIOUE. 
 
 delicacy of feeling forbade him to enter the house ; 
 time after time he passed her door with longing 
 look, anxious for her salvation, but jealous of his 
 own honour. , This lasted for a time, but at length 
 it ended. One day, she called him to her, and 
 with overflowing tears which well betrayed her 
 bursting heart, she said, " sir ! if your Master 
 had been in this milage half as long as you have, 
 he would have called to see me long ago / for surely 
 I am the chief of sinners, and therefore have most 
 need of his mercy" We may conceive the melting 
 of the pastor s heart, when he saw his conduct thus 
 gently condemned by a comparison with his loving 
 Master. From that time forth he resolved t< 
 neglect none, but to gather even the " outcasts oi 
 Israel." Should we, by our meditation, be con 
 strained to do likewise, we shall have derived no 
 little benefit, and possibly some soul may have 
 reason to bless God that our thoughts were directed 
 into such a channel. May the gracious Spirit, who 
 has promised te " lead us into all truth " by his 
 holy influences, sanctify to our profit this visit to 
 the house of our nativity, exciting in us all those 
 emotions which are congenial to the subject, and 
 leading us to actions in harmony with the grateful 
 retrospect. 
 
TO THE UNCONVERTED KEADEK. 
 
 MY FRIEND, Although this book was written 
 chiefly for the Lord s family, yet it may please the 
 gracious Spirit to bless it to thine own soul. With 
 this desire let me seriously entreat thee well to con 
 sider the condition thou art in. Thou art one who 
 esteems not Jesus. This is a state, sad in itself by 
 reason of thy loss of present delight in him ; but 
 how much more terrible if thou dost remember the 
 eternal consequences of refusing Christ. He is 
 thine only real hope, and yet thou rejectest him. 
 Thy salvation can only come through him, and yet 
 thou dost wilfully remove thyself from him. A 
 few more years will bring thee to the threshold of 
 another world. It will go ill with thee if thou dost 
 still " neglect this great salvation." Death will 
 soon loosen thy girdle and break thy strength. 
 "What wilt thou do in the last hour of extremi y 
 without a Saviour ? Judgment will follow on the 
 heels of dissolution ; and when the insulted Saviour 
 
42 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 sits upon the judgment-seat, how wilt thou face 
 him ? "Wilt thou be able to bear the fury of his 
 incensed majesty ? As oil, the softest of substances, 
 doth burn the most fiercely, so doth love when it 
 is angered. I bid thee bethink thyself, how thou 
 wilt endure his ire. The eyes which once flowed 
 with tears shall flash lightnings on thee. The 
 hands which were nailed to the cross of redemption 
 shall seize the thunderbolts of vengeance, and the 
 voice which once in melting tones said, " Come ye 
 weary," shall pronounce in thundering words the 
 sentence, " Depart, ye cursed I" 
 
 Art thou so besotted as to venture on so hazar 
 dous a course as continued rebellion ? Dost thou 
 wish to lie down in torment, and make thy bed in 
 hell? 
 
 O my brother-immortal ! tarry here and ponder 
 thy woeful estate ; and may the Spirit now manifest 
 to thee thy lost and helpless condition, that so, 
 stripped of self, thou mayest seek my Master s 
 righteousness. He says : " Hove them that love 
 me, and they that seek me early shall find me." 
 
II. 
 
 FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 
 
 ** Faithful are the wounds of a friend." PROY. xxvii. 6. 
 
 THE death in sin, which we so much lamented in 
 the last chapter, is now happily a thing of the past 
 with us. Divine grace has quickened us ; heavenly 
 influence has preserved us ; and faithful promises 
 have secured our spiritual immortality. It is now 
 our delightful duty to adore the love which, even 
 when we were dead in sins, was still planning deeds 
 of kindness towards us ; and which in its own 
 appointed time enlisted Omnipotence in our be 
 half, 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 gracious assistance, review the way 
 whereby the Lord led us to himself. 
 
 Like ourselves, many of our readers will admit 
 that the first they ever knew of Jesus was in the 
 character of a faithful friend wounding us for sin. 
 
 48 
 
44 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 Though at that time we knew not that love was 
 mixed with every blow, yet now we perceive it to 
 have been the kind plan of a gracious Saviour to 
 bring us to himself. The Boman Emperor con 
 ferred freedom on a slave by smiting him on the 
 ear : and Jesus sets as at liberty by a blow upon 
 our heart. 
 
 I. We shall dwell first upon the fact that all 
 saved persons have Keen wounded. Neither in the 
 Church militant nor the host triumphant is there 
 one who received a new heart, and was reclaimed 
 from sin, without a wound from Jesus. The pain 
 may have been but slight, and the healing may 
 have been speedy ; but in each case there has been 
 a real bruise, which required a heavenly physician 
 to heal. 
 
 1. "With some, this wounding commenced in 
 early life ; for as soon as infancy gave place to 
 childhood, the rod was exercised upon certain of 
 us. We can remember early convictions of sin, 
 and apprehensions of the wrath of God on its ac 
 count. An awakened conscience in our most tender 
 years drove us to the throne of mercy. Though we 
 knew not the hand which chastened our spirit, yet 
 did we " bear the yoke in our youth." How many 
 were " the tender buds of hope," which we then 
 put forth, alas ! too soon to be withered by youth 
 ful lusts ; how often were we " scared with visions " 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNLS. 4:> 
 
 and terrified with dreams, while the reproof of a 
 parent, the death of a playfellow, or a solemn ser 
 mon made our hearts melt within us ! Truly, our 
 goodness was but " as the morning cloud and the 
 early dew ;" but who can tell how much each of 
 these separate woundings contributed toward that 
 killing by the law, which proved to be the effec 
 tual work of God ? In each of these arousings we 
 discover a gracious purpose ; we trace every one 
 of these awakenings to His hand who watched over 
 our path, determined to deliver us from our sins. 
 The small end of that wedge which has since been 
 driven home, was inserted during these youthful 
 hours of inward strife ; the ground of our heart 
 was then enduring a ploughing preparatory to the 
 seed. 
 
 Let none despise the strivings of the Spirit in 
 he hearts of the young ; let not boyish anxieties 
 and juvenile repentances be lightly regarded. He 
 incurs a fearful amount of guilt who in the least 
 promotes the aim of the Evil One by trampling 
 upon a tender conscience in a child. No one 
 knows the age of the youngest child in hell ; and 
 therefore none can guess at what age children be 
 come capable of conversion. We at least can bear 
 our testimony to the fact that grace operates on 
 some minds at a period almost too early for recol 
 lection. Nor let it be imagined that the feelings 
 of the young are slight and superficial they are 
 
46 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 
 
 frequently of the deepest character. The cfr j.y 
 woundings of the Saviour are made upon he* fts 
 not yet rendered callous by worldliness and sensu 
 ality. The Christian whose lot it was to be smitten 
 in his childhood, will well remember the deep 
 searchings of heart and the keen convictions of 
 soul which he endured. 
 
 O beloved, how much have we to bless our Jesus 
 for, and how much for which to reprove ourselves ! 
 Did we not stifle our conscience, and silence the 
 voice of reproof? "Were we not deaf to the warn 
 ing voice of our glorious Jesus ? When he smote 
 us sorely, we returned not to kiss his rod, but were 
 as refractory as the bullock unaccustomed to the 
 yoke. Our most solemn vows were only made to 
 be broken ; our earnest prayers ceased when the 
 outward pressure was removed ; and our partial 
 reformations passed away like dreams of the night. 
 Blessed be His name, he at last gave us the eifec 
 tual blow of grace ; but we must for ever stand in 
 amazement at the patience which endured our ob 
 stinacy, and persevered in its design of love. 
 
 2. Many of the Lord s beloved ones have felt the 
 wounds to be exceedingly painful. There are 
 degrees in the bitterness of sorrow for sin ; all have 
 not the same horrible apprehensions of destruc 
 tion ; but some there be who have drank the very 
 wormwood and gall of repentance. Usually, such 
 persons have been great sinners previously, or 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 47 
 
 become great saints in after life. They love much 
 because they feel that much has been forgiven ; 
 their fearful bondage increases their gratitude for 
 glorious liberty ; and the wretchedness of their 
 natural poverty enhances their estimation of the 
 riches of Jesus. The painful process is thus a 
 gainful one ; but when it is endured it is indeed an 
 exceeding fiery furnace an oven that burneth 
 with vehement heat. He who hath had his feet 
 fast in the stocks of conviction will never forget it 
 till his dying day. "Well do some of us call to 
 mind the season when our true Friend smote our 
 heart, with what we then thought the hand of a 
 cruel one. Our mirth was turned into mourning, 
 our songs to lamentations, our laughter into sigh 
 ing, and our joys to misery. Black thoughts 
 haunted our benighted soul dreary images of woe 
 sat upon the throne of our imagination sounds 
 akin to the wailings of hell were frequent in our ears, 
 unitedly making our entire man so full of agony 
 that it could be compared to nothing but the portal 
 of hell. During this period, our prayers were 
 truly earnest when we could pray ; but at times a 
 sense of tremendous guilt bound our lips, and 
 choked our utterance. Now and then a faint 
 gleam of hope lit up the scene for a moment, only 
 to increase the gloom upon its departure. The 
 nearer we approached to our Lord, the more 
 sternly (we thought) he repelled us ; the more ear- 
 
48 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 nest our attempts at amendment, the more heavy 
 the lash fell upon our shoulders. The law grasped 
 us with iron hand, and smote us with the scourge 
 of vengeance ; conscience washed the quivering 
 flesh with brine ; and despondency furnished us 
 with a bed of thorns, upon which our poor man 
 gled frame found a hard couch. By night we 
 dreamed of torment, by day we almost felt its pre 
 lude. In vain did we ask Moses to propitiate an 
 angry God; in vain did we attempt by vows to 
 move his pity ; " the Breaker "* broke our hearts 
 with his heavy hammer, and seemed intent to make 
 our agonies intolerable. We dared not touch the 
 hem of his garment, lest " Depart from me !" 
 should be the only word he would afford us. A 
 fearful looking-for of j udgment and of fiery indig 
 nation wrought in us all manner of fears, suspi 
 cions, tremblings, despondings, and despairings. 
 
 Old Burton was no ill limner when he thus 
 painted the soul under the pressure of a burden of 
 guilt : " Fear takes away their content, and dries 
 the blood, wasteth the marrow, alters their coun 
 tenance, even in their greatest delights singing, 
 dancing, feasting they are still (saith Lemnius) 
 tortured in their souls. It consumes them to 
 nought. I am like a pelican in the wilderness 
 (saith David of himself, temporarily afflicted) : an 
 
 Mic. ii. 18. 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 49 
 
 owl, because of thine indignation. * My heart 
 trembleth within me, and the terrors of death have 
 come upon me ; fear and trembling are come 
 upon me, &c., at death s door. Their soul 
 abhorreth all manner of meat. f Their sleep is (if 
 it be any) unquiet, subject to fearful dreams and 
 terrors. Peter, in his bonds, slept secure, for he 
 knew God protected him. Tully makes it an argu 
 ment of Roscius Amerinus innocency (that he 
 killed not his father) because he so securely slept. 
 Those martyrs in the primitive Church were most 
 cheerful and merry in the midst of their persecu 
 tions ; but it is far otherwise with these men : 
 tossed in a sea, and that continually, without rest 
 or intermission, they can think of nought that is 
 pleasant ; { their conscience will not let them be in 
 quiet; in perpetual fear and anxiety, if they be 
 not yet apprehended, they are in doubt still they 
 shall be ready to betray themselves. As Cain did, 
 he thinks every man will kill him ; i and roar for 
 the grief of heart, ;): as David did, as Job did. 
 Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, 
 and life to them that have a heavy heart ? Which 
 long for death ; and if it come not, search it more 
 than treasures, and rejoice when they can find the 
 grave. They are generally weary of their lives : 
 
 * Ps. cii. 6, 10 ; Iv. 4. f Ps - cvii - 18 - 
 
 + Ps. xxxviii. 8. Job xx. 3, 21, 22, &c. 
 
50 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 a trembling heart they have, a sorrowful mind, and 
 little or no rest. Terror unique tremor, timor 
 undique et undique terror : * tears, terrors, and 
 affrights, in all places, at all times and seasons. 
 Cibum et potum pertinaciter aversantur multi, 
 nodum in scirpo quazritantes, et culpam imaginan- 
 tes ubi nulla est, as Wierus writes,* they refuse 
 many of them meat and drink, cannot rest, aggra 
 vating still, and supposing grievous offences where 
 there are none. God s heavy wrath is kindled in 
 their souls, and, notwithstanding their continual 
 prayers and supplications to Christ Jesus, they 
 have no release or ease at all, but a most intoler 
 able torment, and insufferable anguish of con 
 science ; and that makes them, through impatience, 
 to murmur against God many times, to think hardly 
 of him, and even, in some cases, seek to offer vio 
 lence to themselves. In the morning they w T ish for 
 evening, and for morning in the evening ; for the 
 sight of their eyes which they see, and fear of heart."f 
 Hart knew the deep wound ings of this faithful 
 Friend ; witness the following lines : 
 
 " The Lord, from whom I long backslid, 
 
 First check d me with some gentle stings ; 
 Turn d on me, look d, and softly chid, 
 
 And bade me hope for greater things. 
 " Soon to his bar he made me come, 
 
 Arraign d, convicted, cast, I stood, 
 * De Lamiis, lib. iii. c. 7. f Deut. xxvii. 65, 6u 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 51 
 
 Expecting from his mouth the doom 
 Of those who trample on his blood. 
 
 " Pangs of remorse my conscience tore, 
 
 Hell open d hideous to my view ; 
 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 1 
 But, brethren, surely you can guess, 
 For you, perhaps, have felt the same." 
 
 Doubtless, some of our readers will cry out against 
 sucli a description as being too harsh ; our only 
 answer is, we have felt these things in a measure, 
 and we testify what we do know. "We do not, for one 
 moment, teach that all or that many are thus led in a 
 path strewn with horrors, and shrouded in gloom ; 
 but we hope to be acknowledged, by those who 
 have experienced the same, to have uttered no 
 strange thing, but the simple tale, unexaggerated 
 and unadorned. We need no better evidences to 
 convince all Christian men of our truthfulness 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 liberty wherewith Christ makes men 
 free. 
 
 Such terrible things are not necessary to true re- 
 
52 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 pentance, 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 way, and the best pilgrims have 
 fallen into it. Your case, O soul under spiritual 
 distress, is by no means singular ; and if it were so, 
 it would not be necessarily desperate, for Omnipo 
 tence 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 
 convictions are no arguments that God has laid 
 aside his mercy. Destruction and wrath may thun 
 der, but mercy can speak louder than both. One 
 word from our Lord can still the waves 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 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. 
 Let him slay thee, but do thou still trust in him. 
 If he had meant to destroy thee, he would not have 
 showed thee such things as these : love is in his 
 heart when chiding is on his lips ; yea, his very words 
 of reproof are so many " tokens for good." A fa 
 ther will not lift his hand against another man s 
 child, but he exercises discipline upon his own ; 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 53 
 
 even so the Lord your God chastens his own, but 
 reserveth for the children of wrath retribution in 
 another state of being. Bethink thee. also, that it 
 is no small mercy to feel thy sin ; this proves that 
 there is no mortification in thy frame, but life is 
 there. To feel is an evidence of life ; and spiritual 
 sorrow is a clear proof of life in the soul. More 
 over, there are thousands who would give worlds 
 to be in the same condition as thou art ; they are 
 grieving because they do not have those very feel 
 ings which are in thy case thy burden and plague. 
 Multitudes envy thee thy groans, thy tears, and 
 meltings ; yea, some advanced saints look at thee 
 with admiration, and wish that their hearts were as 
 tender as thine. Oh ! take courage ; the rough 
 usage of to-day is an earnest of loving dealings by- 
 and bye. It is in this manner the sheep is brought 
 into the fold by the barking of the dog ; and in this 
 fashion the ship is compelled by the storm to make 
 for the nearest haven. Fly to Jesus, and believe 
 his grace. 
 
 3. A portion of the redeemed have had this 
 season of wounding protracted for a long time. It 
 was not one heavy fall of the rod, 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 valley of 
 darkness for as long a time. Winters are not 
 
54: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 
 
 usually long in our favoured clime, 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 coun 
 tenance, 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 voyages : the peculiar build 
 of the vessel, the winds, the waves, and the mis 
 takes of the captain, all affect the time of the jour 
 ney. 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 purposes 
 which, though we know not now, we shall know 
 hereafter. Men shall not have an Easter until they 
 have had Lent ; but God s Lents are not all of the 
 same duration. Let none, then, foolishly imagine 
 that they have entered a long lane which will have 
 no 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 
 they are detained too long in the school of peni- 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 55 
 
 tence. No man has any right to murmur because 
 he is waiting a little for the King of mercy ; for if 
 he considereth what he waits for, he will see it to 
 be well worthy of a thousand years waiting. God 
 may say, " To-day if ye will hear my voice ;" but 
 thou, O sinner, hast no right to demand that he 
 should hear thine at all, much less to-day. Great 
 men often have petitioners in their halls, who will 
 wait for hours, and corne again and again to obtain 
 promotion : surely, the God of heaven should be 
 waited for by them that seek him. Thrice happy 
 is he that getteth an early interview, and doubly 
 blest is he who getteth one at all. Yet it does at 
 imes seem hard to stand at a door which opens not 
 to repeated knocking " hope deferred maketh the 
 heart sick:" and it may be, some reader of this 
 volume is driven to doubt the eventual result of 
 his strivings and prayers; he may be crying, 
 "My life is spent with grief, and my years with 
 sighing." 
 
 " How oft have these bare 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 implored the shades of night ? 
 How often have my nightly torments pray d 
 Forling ring twilight, glutted with the shade? 
 Day worse than night, night worse than day appears; 
 In fears I spend my nights, my days in tears : 
 I moan unpitied, groan without relief, 
 There is no end or measure of my grief. 
 
56 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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." 
 
 Cease thy complaint, O mourner, the angel is on 
 his way, and faith shall quicken his flight ; while 
 thou art yet speaking, He hears, yea, before thou 
 callest again, He may answer thee. 
 
 4. Divine sovereignty displays itself in the man 
 ner whereby souls are brought to Jesus ; for while 
 many, as we have said, are smitten with deep 
 wounds, there are perhaps a larger number whose 
 smartings are less severe, and their suffering far 
 less acute. Let us never make apologies for the 
 superficial religion too common in the present day ; 
 above all, let us never lead others to mistake fan 
 cies for realities, and evanescent feelings for endur 
 ing workings of grace. We fear too many are 
 deluded with a false religion, which will be utterly 
 consumed when the fire shall try all things ; and 
 we solemnly warn our readers to rest short of 
 nothing less than a real experience of grace within, 
 true repentance, deep self-abhorrence, and com 
 plete subjection to salvation by grace. Yet we do 
 believe and know that some of the Lord s family 
 
FAITHFTJL WOUNDS. 57 
 
 are, by his marvellous kindness, exempted from the 
 exceeding rigour of the terrors of Sinai, and the 
 excessive griefs engendered by the working of the 
 Law. God openeth many hearts with gentle pick 
 locks, while with others he useth the crowbar of 
 terrible judgments. The wind of the Spirit, which 
 bloweth where it listeth, also bloweth how it 
 pleaseth : it is oftentimes a gentle gale, not always 
 a hurricane. When the lofty palm of Zeilan put- 
 teth forth its flower, the sheath bursts with a report 
 which shakes the forest, but thousands of other 
 flowers of equal value open in the morning, and 
 the very dew-drops hear no sound ; so many souls 
 blossom in mercy, and the world hears neither 
 whirlwind nor tempest. Showers frequently fall 
 upon this earth too gently to be heard, though 
 truly at other seasons the rattling drops proclaim, 
 them ; grace also " droppeth, like the gentle dew 
 from heaven," on souls whom Jesus would favour, 
 and they know nothing of heavy hail and drench 
 ing torrents. 
 
 Let none doubt their calling because it came not 
 with sound of the trumpet ; let them not sit down 
 to measure their own feelings by those of other 
 men, and because they are not precisely the same, 
 at once conclude that they are no children of the 
 kingdom. No two leaves upon a tree are precisely 
 alike variety is the rule of nature ; the line of 
 beauty runs not in one undeviating course ; and in 
 
 3* 
 
58 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 grace the same rule holds good. Do not, therefore, 
 desire another man s repentance, or thy brother s 
 apprehensions of wrath. Be not wishful to try the 
 depth of the cavern of misery, but rather rejoice 
 that thou hast a partial immunity from its glooms. 
 Be concerned to flee for refuge to Jesus ; but ask 
 not that the avenger of blood may almost overtake 
 thee. Be content to enter the ark like a sheep led 
 by its shepherd ; desire not to come like an unruly 
 bullock, which must be driven to the door with 
 stripes. Adore the power which is not bound 
 down to a unity of method, but which can open 
 the eye by the clay and spittle, or by the simple 
 touch of the finger. Jesus cried, with a loud voice, 
 " Lazarus, come forth !" but the restoration was as 
 easily effected when he gently said, " Maid, arise !" 
 Zaccheus was called from the tree with a voice that 
 the crowd could hear; but it was a still voice, 
 which in the garden said, " Mary." Can any man 
 say but that equal benefits flowed from these varied 
 voices? It is arrogance for any man to map out 
 the path of the Eternal, or dictate to Jesus the 
 methods of his mercy. Let us be content with 
 gentle wounds, and let us not seek heavy blows as 
 a proof of his faithfulness. 
 
 Much more might have been discoursed concern 
 ing the means used by Providence to break the 
 hard heart. Bereavement, disappointment, sick 
 ness, poverty, have had their share of uses; the 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 59 
 
 Word preached, Scriptures read or reproofs re 
 ceived, have all been owned to conversion. It 
 would be interesting to register the diverse ways 
 of Jehovah s doings with sinners ; and it would be 
 found a valuable occupation lor a gathering of 
 Christians in an evening party, if the question is 
 passed round to each, and one acts as recorder for 
 the rest ; thus interesting information may be ob 
 tained, and unprofitable talking avoided. 
 
 II. "We now seek to justify our assertion that 
 these wounds are inflicted ly " the friend" Christ 
 Jesus. Our readers will observe that Jesus name 
 has not often occurred in the course of this chap 
 ter, but this has had its reasons ; in order that our 
 words might be somewhat in accordance with the 
 state of the soul during the operation of conviction, 
 for then it discerns not Jesus, and knows nothing 
 of his love. A faint idea of his saving power may 
 arise, but it is only the hush between the succeed 
 ing gusts of wind. There is an atonement, but the 
 tried conscience rejoices not therein, since the 
 blood has never been applied ; HE is able to save 
 unto the uttermost, but since the man has not come 
 unto God by him, he as yet participates not in the 
 salvation. Nevertheless, an unseen Jesus is a true 
 Jesus ; and when we see him not, he is none the 
 less present, working all our works in us. We 
 would insist strongly on this point, because a very 
 
60 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 large number of mourning sinners ascribe their 
 sorrow to any source but the right one. 
 
 1. We know those at present in the prison-house 
 of conviction who believe themselves to be tor 
 mented by the devil, and are haunted by the 
 dreadful thought that he is about to devour them, 
 since hell seems to have begun in their souls. May 
 the sacred Comforter render our words profitable 
 to a heart so exercised. It is not an evil one who 
 convinces the soul of sin, although the troubled 
 spirit is prone to impute its arousings to the machi 
 nations of the devil. It is never the policy of the 
 Prince of darkness to disturb his subjects; he la 
 bours to make them self-satisfied and content with 
 their position ; spiritual uneasiness he looks upon 
 with most crafty suspicion, since he sees therein 
 the cause of desertion from his evil army. We do 
 not assert that none of the terrors which accom 
 pany conviction are the works of the devil, for 
 we believe they are ; but we maintain that the 
 inward disturbance which originates the commotion 
 is a work of love a deed of divine compassion, 
 and comes from no other fountain than eternal af 
 fection. The dust which surrounds the chariot may 
 rise from beneath, but the chariot itself is paved 
 with the love of heaven. The doubts, the despair- 
 ings, and the hellish apprehensions may be the 
 work of Diabolus, but the real attack is headed by 
 Emmanuel, and it is from very fear that the true 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 61 
 
 assault may be successful that Satan attempts an 
 other. Jesus sends an army to drive us to himself, 
 and then the Prince of the powers of the air dis 
 patches a host to cut off our retreat to Calvary. So 
 harassed is the mind when thus besieged, that like 
 the warriors in old Troy, it mistakes friends for 
 foes, not knowing how to discern them in the dark 
 ness 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 we have pictured leads us 
 to abhor 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 vile- 
 ness? If indeed it delights him to see a soul 
 unhappy 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 he should inflict a temporary 
 torment on the sinner here, and so by his over 
 haste lose his great object in ruining the man for 
 ever. Devils may drive swine down a steep place 
 into the sea ; but they never influenced swine to 
 bemoan their condition, and beg to be made sheep. 
 Satan might carry Jesus to a pinnacle of the 
 Temple to tempt him ; but he never carried a pub- 
 
62 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 lican to the house of prayer to smite on his breast 
 and cry, " God be merciful to me a sinner !" 
 Nothing which leads to Jesus can be of the Evil 
 One; by this we rnay judge whether our inward 
 trouble be of God or no. That which draws us to 
 Jesus hath something of Jesus in it ; the waggons 
 which fetch us to our Joseph may have rumbling 
 wheels, but they are sent by Him. When our 
 enemy cannot hinder the voice of God from being 
 heard in the heart, he mingleth therewith such 
 horrid yellings and bowlings that the coming sin 
 ner is in doubt whether the voice come from 
 heaven or hell ; howbeit, the question may be 
 answered in this manner if it be a harsh, reprov 
 ing voice which is heard, then Satan is angry, and is 
 but counterfeiting, to prevent the word of God 
 from having effect ; but if it be a sweet voice 
 seeking to draw the soul from an earnest and 
 thorough repentance, then it cometh wholly from 
 hell. O sinner, let a friend warn thee of the 
 syren-song of a smiling devil it will be thine 
 eternal shipwreck if jjjfcou dost not seal thine ears, 
 and neglect his enchanting music ; but, on the 
 other hand, be not afraid of the devil when he 
 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 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 63 
 
 which he has builded. Do not think that thy sharp 
 pains are given thee by the old murderer, for they 
 are the effects of the knife of " the beloved physi 
 cian." Many a man under a surgical operation 
 cries out as if he were about to be killed ; but if 
 patience had its perfect work, he would look to the 
 end 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. Yery common also are the cases where the 
 genuineness 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 conscience so often 
 .prove to be of no avail. How many reformations 
 have been commenced by the command of con 
 science, and have soon crumbled beneath tempta 
 tion like an edifice of sand at the approach of the 
 sea ! How many prayers have been forced forth 
 like 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 whether they 
 be of God. 
 
 Conscience is that portion of the soul upon which 
 
64 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 the Spirit works in convincing of sin ; but con 
 science cannot of itself produce such a real death to 
 sin as must be the experience of every Christian. 
 It may, when 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 break 
 ing of the bars of iron must come from another 
 hand. 
 
 Natural conscience may ~be distinguished from 
 supernatural grace by its being far more easily 
 appeased. 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 " God s 
 vicegerent, 7 styling it the judge who cannot be 
 bribed, whereas the slightest observation would 
 suffice to convince any man of the corruption of 
 the conscience. How many commit acts with 
 allowance which are gross sins, but concerning 
 which their unenlightened conscience utters no 
 threat ; and even when this partial censor does 
 pronounce sentence of condemnation, how easily 
 will the slightest promise of reformation avert his 
 wrath, and induce him to palliate the sin ! 
 
 Conscience, when thoroughly aroused, will speak 
 with a thundering voice ; but even his voice cannot 
 wake the dead spiritual resurrection is the work 
 of Deity alone. We have seen men swept with a 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 65 
 
 very tornado of terrible thoughts and serious emo 
 tions ; 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 natural 
 repentance, and its worthlessness may be proved 
 by its transitory existence. 
 
 Conscience will be content with reformation ; 
 true grace will never rest till it receives a know 
 ledge of regeneration. Let us each be anxious to 
 be possessors of nothing short of a real inwrought 
 sorrow for sin, a deep sense of natural depravity, a 
 true faith in the Lord Jesus, and actual possession 
 of his Spirit ; whatever is short of this, lacks the 
 vital elements of religion. If such is our feeling 
 now if we now pant for Jesus in all his glorious 
 offices to be ours for ever, we need not fear but 
 that He has wounded us in love, and is bringing us 
 to his feet. If we now feel that nothing but the 
 blood and righteousness 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 insatiable 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 emptied soul with 
 
 aught save the Lord Jesus. Is thy soul hungering 
 with such a hunger that husks will not content 
 
 thee ? Art thou thirsting until " thy tongue 
 cleaveth to thy mouth " for the living waters of 
 
66 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 life? Dost 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, He calleth thee ; cry unto him, and 
 he will assuredly hear. 
 
 Again, we think an excellent test may le found 
 in the length of time which these feelings have en 
 dured. The awakenings of an unrenewed con 
 science soon pass away, and are not usually perma 
 nent in their character. Arising in a night, they 
 perish also in a night. They are acute pains, but 
 not chronic ; they are not a part of the man, but 
 simply incidents in his history. Many a man drops 
 the compliment . of a tear when justice is at work 
 with him ; but wiping that tear away, sunshine fol 
 lows the shower, and all is over. Hast thou, my 
 reader, been a seeker of the Lord for a little while ? 
 I beseech thee take it not for granted that thou art 
 under the influence of the Spirit, but plead with 
 God that thine own instability may not afresh be 
 manifest in again forgetting what manner of, man 
 thou art. O ye whose momentary warmth is but 
 as the crackling of blazing thorns, this is not the 
 fire from heaven ; for that glorious flame is as eter 
 nal as its origin, being sustained by Omnipotence. 
 O ye Pliables, who turn back at the first difficulty, 
 crowns and kingdoms in the realms of the blessed 
 are not intended for such as you ! Unstable as 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 67 
 
 water, ye shall not excel ! Your lying vows have 
 been so often heard in heaven, that justice frowns 
 upon you. How have ye lied unto God, when ye 
 have promised in the hour of sickness to turn to 
 him w r ith 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 treachery ! 
 
 What can be more worthy of your solemn consi 
 deration than the words of Solomon" He that be 
 ing often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall sud 
 denly be destroyed, and- that without remedy."* 
 It will go hard with some of you, my readers, who 
 have abounded with hypocritical repentances 
 when the- Lord shall bring you into judgment. 
 Ye have no excuse of ignorance ; ye cannot cloak 
 your guilt with darkness ; " ye knew your duty, 
 but ye did it not." You vowed in deceit ; you 
 prayed in mockery ; you promised with falsehood. 
 Surely, your own lips will say "Amen!" to the an 
 athema which shall call you "cursed;" and the 
 chambers of your memory will, from their sin- 
 stained walls, reverberate 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 
 
 * Prov. xxix. 1. 
 
68 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 longing after Jesus ? Then let him be of good 
 cheer. The river which drieth not is the river of 
 God ; the lighthouse which endureth the winds 
 and waves is founded on a rock ; and the plant 
 which is not plucked up our heavenly Father hath 
 plan ted. The stony-ground hearer lost his verdure 
 when the sun had arisen with burning heat ; but if 
 out of an honest and good heart you have received 
 the word which abideth for ever, you are one of 
 those upon the good ground. "When the light re 
 mains in one position for a long time, it is not likely 
 to be an ignis fatuus ; but that which leapeth con 
 tinually from place to place, even the peasant 
 knows to be the will-o -the-wisp, and nothing more. 
 True stars fall not; shooting stars are no stars at 
 all, but sundry gases which have long enough held 
 together, and blaze at bursting. Rivers which, 
 like Kishon, only flow with temporary torrents, 
 may be useful to sweep away an invading army, 
 but they cannot fertilise the surrounding country : 
 so temporary conviction may bring destruction 
 upon a host of sins, but it is not the river which 
 makes glad the city of God. The works of God 
 are abiding works ; he buildeth no houses of sand 
 which fall at the rise of the flood, or the rushing of 
 the wind. Hast thou, O convinced soul, been long 
 under the hand of sorrow ? then take heart, this is 
 all the more likely to be the hand of the Lord. If 
 thou feelest, at all seasonable hours, a strong desire 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 69 
 
 to seek his lace, and pour out thine heart before 
 him, then doubtless thou art one of those who shall 
 be called " sought out," and thou shalt dwell in 
 " a city not forsaken." The morning cloud goeth 
 because it is but a cloud ; but the rain and the snow 
 return not to heaven void, but water the earth, and 
 make it bring forth and bud : if thy soul buddeth 
 with desires, and bringeth forth prayers and tears, 
 then have we hope for thee that God hath sent his 
 word from above to dwell in thine heart. 
 
 Best of all, when we are put out of all heart with 
 our doings and with our own capabilities / then in 
 deed the Lord is there. So long as we cling in the 
 least degree to self, we have ground to distrust the 
 reality of the work within. The Spirit is a hum 
 bling spirit, and God sends him that he may hum 
 ble us. Every wound given by the Saviour is ac 
 companied by the voice, " This is against thy self- 
 righteousness." Without this process of cutting 
 and wounding, we should imagine ourselves to be 
 something, whereas we are nothing ; we should 
 think our fig-leaves to be as excellent as court 
 robes, and our own filthy rags as white as the spot 
 less robe of Jesus. Hast thou, my friend been learn 
 ing the lesson, that " whatsoever is of nature s spin 
 ning must be all unravelled before the righteous 
 ness of Christ is put on ?"* Dost thou now per- 
 
 * Thomas Wilcocks. 
 
70 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 ceive that " nature can afford no balsam fit for soul 
 cure?" Art thou despairing of all healing from 
 the waters of Abana and Pharpar ? And wilt thou 
 now gladly wash in Jordan and be clean ? If it be 
 so with thee, then thou art no stranger to the influ 
 ences of Jesus grace upon thine heart ; but if not, 
 all thy repentances, thy tears, thy sighs, thy groans, 
 must go for nothing, being but dross and dung in 
 the sight of the rein-trying Jehovah. Self is the fly 
 which spoils the whole pot of ointment ; but Jesus 
 is the salt which makes the most poisonous river to 
 become pure. To be weaned from our own works 
 is the hardest weaning in the world. To die not 
 only to all ideas of past merit, but to all hopes of 
 future attainments, is a death which is as hard as 
 that of the old giant whom Greatheart slew. And 
 yet this death is absolutely requisite before salva 
 tion, for unless we die to all but Christ, we can 
 never live with Christ. 
 
 The carnal professor talks very much of faith, of 
 sanctification, of perfection ; but therein he offers 
 sacrifice to himself as the great author of his own 
 salvation ; like the Pharaoh of old, lie writes upon 
 the rocks, " I conquered these regions by these my 
 shoulders." But not so he who has really been 
 taught by the God of heaven ; he bows his head, 
 and ascribes his deliverance wholly to the grace of 
 the covenant God of Israel. By this, then, can thy 
 state be tested is self annihilated, or is it not ? 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 71 
 
 Art thon looking upward, or art thou hoping that 
 thine own arm shall bring salvation ? Thus mayest 
 thou best understand how thy soul standeth with 
 regard to a work of grace. That which strippeth 
 the creature of all comeliness, which marreth the 
 beauty of pride, and staineth the glory of self-suffi 
 ciency, is from Jesus; but that which exalteth 
 man, even though it make thee moral, amiable, and 
 outwardly religious, is of the devil. Fear not the 
 blow which smites thee to the ground the lower 
 thou liest the better ; but shun that which puffeth 
 up and lifteth thee to the skies. Kemember the 
 Lord hath said, " And all the trees of the field shall 
 know that I the Lord have brought down the high 
 tree, have exalted the low tree, have dried up the 
 green tree, and have made the dry tree to flour 
 ish." * Be thou ever one of the low trees, for then 
 Jesus will regard thee. He putteth down the 
 mighty from their seats, but he exalteth the humble 
 and meek. None are nearer mercy s door than 
 those who are farthest from their own ; none are 
 more likely to get a good word from Jesus than they 
 who have not one word to say for themselves. He 
 that is clean escaped from the hands of self, hath 
 not a step between himself and acceptance. It is 
 a good sign of a high tide of grace, when the sands 
 of our own righteousness are covered. Take heart 
 
 * Ezek. xvii. 24. 
 
72 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 that Christ loveth thee, when thou hast no heart 
 for the work of self-saving. But never, never hope 
 that a devout carriage, respectable demeanour, 
 and upright conversation, will justify thee before 
 God- 
 
 " For love of grace 
 
 Lay not that flattering unction to your soul ; 
 It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, 
 Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, 
 Infects unseen." 
 
 Once more : when our sorrowful feelings dwve us 
 to a thorough renunciation of sin, then we may 
 hope. How many there are who talk most rapidly 
 of a deep experience, of corruption, and of indwell 
 ing sin, who never heartily renounce their evil 
 ways ! But how vain is all their idle talk, while 
 their lives show that they love sin, and delight in 
 transgression ! He that is sorry for past sin, will 
 be doubly careful to avoid all present acts of it. 
 He is a hypocrite before God who talketh of a 
 work within when there is no work without. Grace 
 will enter a sinful heart, even though it be exceed 
 ing vile ; yet it will never make friendship with 
 sin, but will at once commence to drive it out. He 
 has altogether mistaken the nature of divine grace, 
 who conceives it possible that he can be a partaker 
 of it and yet be the slave of lust, or allow sin to 
 reign in his mortal body. The promise runs " Let 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 73 
 
 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 to 
 our God, for he will abundantly pardon ;" but we 
 read not of a single word of comfort to him who 
 goeth on in his iniquity. Though the high and 
 lofty One will stoop over a wounded sinner, 
 he will never do so while the weapons of rebellion 
 are still in his hands: "There is no peace, saith 
 my God, unto the wicked." Justice will never 
 raise the siege simply because of our cries, or pro 
 mises, or vows : the heart shall still be invested 
 with terrors as long as the traitors are harboured 
 within its gates. The Spirit saith, by the mouth 
 of Paul, " For godly sorrow worketh repentance to 
 salvation not to be repented of. For behold this 
 self-same thing, that ye sorrowed after a godly 
 sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, what 
 clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, 
 what fear, yea, w r hat vehement desire, yea, what 
 zeal, yea, what revenge ! In all things ye have 
 approved yourselves in this matter." * That is no 
 true repentance to eternal life, which hath not such 
 blessed companions as these. Isaiah saith, "By 
 this, therefore, shall the iniquity of Jacob be purg 
 ed ; and this is all the fruit to take away his sin ; 
 when he maketh all the stones of the altar as chalk- 
 
 2 Cor. vii. 10, 11. 
 
 4: 
 
74 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 stones that are beaten in sunder, the groves and 
 images shall not stand up."* No sooner does peni 
 tence enter the heart than down goeth every idol, 
 and every idolatrous altar. He whom the Lord 
 ealleth will, like Gideon,f cast down the altar of 
 Baal, cut down the grove, and burn the bullock ; 
 like Phineas,$ his javelin will pierce through lusts ; 
 and, as the sons of Levi at the bidding of Moses, 
 he will go through the camp, and slay the nearest 
 and dearest of his bosom sins his hand shall not 
 spare, neither shall his eye pity : right hands will 
 be cut off, and right eyes plucked out ; sin will be 
 drowned in floods of godly sorrow, and the soul 
 will desire to be free from that which it hateth, 
 even to detestation. As Thomas Scott remarks, 
 in his Treatise on Repentance, " This is the grand 
 distinction betwixt true repentance and all false 
 appearances. Though men be abundant in shedding 
 tears, and make the most humiliating confessions, 
 or most ample restitution ; though they openly re 
 tract their false principles, and are zealous in pro 
 moting true religion ; though they relate the most 
 plausible story of experiences, and profess to be 
 favoured with the most glorious manifestations ; 
 though they have strong confidence, high affec 
 tions, orthodox sentiments, exact judgment, and 
 
 * Isa. xxvii. 9. \ Judg. vi. 28. 
 
 f Num. xxv 7. Ex. xxxiii. 26, 27. 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 75 
 
 extensive knowledge : yet, except they l do works 
 meet for repentance, all the rest is nothing, they 
 are still in their sins. For the tree is known by its 
 fruit ; and l every tree that bringeth not forth good 
 fruit is hewn down, and cast into the tire. Yea, 
 though Cain s terror, Judas s confession and resti 
 tution, Pharaoh s fair promises, Ahab s humiliation, 
 Herod s reverencing the prophet, hearing him 
 gladly, and doing many things the stony-ground 
 hearer s joy together with the tongue of men and 
 angels, the gifts of miracles and prophecies, and the 
 knowledge of all mysteries, were combined in one 
 man, they would not prove him a true penitent, so 
 long as the love of one lust remained unmortified 
 in his heart, or the practice of it was allowed in his 
 life." Ask thyself, then, this all-important ques 
 tion, How is my soul affected by sin ? Do I hate 
 it? do I avoid it? do I shun its very shadow? do I 
 sincerely renounce it, even though by infirmity I fall 
 into it ? Rest assured if thou canst not give a satis 
 factory answer to these questions thou art yet very 
 far from the kingdom ; but if, with an honest heart, 
 thou canst declare that sin and thyself are at an 
 utter enmity, then " the seed of the woman" is be 
 gotten in thine heart, and dwelleth there the hope 
 of glory. 
 
 Believer, the hour is fresh in our memory when 
 the divorce was signed between ourselves and our 
 lusts. We can rejoice that we have now dissolved 
 
76 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 our league with hell. But, oh, how much we owe 
 to sovereign grace ! for we had never left the gar 
 lic and fleshpots of Egypt if the Passover had not 
 been slain for us. Our inward man rejoice th 
 greatly at the recollection of the hour which pro 
 claimed eternal war between " the new creature in 
 Christ Jesus " and the sin which reiffneth unto 
 
 O 
 
 death. It was a night to be remembered : we 
 crossed the Rubicon peace was broken old 
 friendships ceased the sword was unsheathed, and 
 the scabbard thrown away. We were delivered 
 from the power of darkness, and brought into " the 
 kingdom of God s dear Son ;" and henceforth we 
 no longer serve sin, but the life which we live in 
 the flesh is a life of dependence on the Son of God, 
 who loved us and gave himself for us. Let us test 
 ify that we never knew what it was to have peace 
 with God until we had ceased to parley with sin. 
 ISTot one drop of true comfort did we receive until 
 we had foresworn for ever the former lusts of our 
 ignorance: till then our mouths were filled with 
 wormwood and gall, until we had cast out our iniqui 
 ties as loathsome and abominable ; but now, having 
 renounced the works of darkness, " we have peace 
 with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom 
 also we have received the atonement." 
 
 If thou, reader, canst satisfactorily answer the 
 solemn inquiries here proposed to thee, thy case is 
 assuredly in the hands of Jesus the Lord : if thou 
 
FAITHFUL WOTTNDS. 77 
 
 hast continually bewailed thy sin, hast renounced 
 thine own works, and escaped from thy lusts, then 
 thou art none other than one called of God to 
 grace and glory. Be thou assured that natural 
 conscience can never rise to such a height as this 
 it may skim the surface, but it cannot mount aloft. 
 Mere nature never poured contempt on human 
 righteousness, and never severed man from his sins. 
 It needs a mighty one to carry away the gates 01 
 the Gaza of our self-sufficiency, or to lay our Philis 
 tine sins heaps upon heaps. God alone can send 
 the sun of our own excellency back the needed de 
 grees of humility, and he alone can bid our sins 
 stand still for ever. It is Jesus who hath smitten, 
 if he hath with one blow uncrowned thee, and with 
 another disarmed thee. He is wont to perform 
 wonders ; but such as these are his own peculiar 
 miracles. None but He can kill with one stone 
 two such birds as our high-soaring righteousness 
 and low-winged lust. If Goliath s head is taken 
 from his shoulders, and his sword snatched from his 
 hand, no doubt the conqueror is the Son of David. 
 We give all glory and honor to the adorable name 
 of Jesus, the Breaker, the Healer, our faithful 
 Friend. 
 
 3. It frequently occurs that the circumstances of 
 the person at the time of conversion afford grave 
 cause to doubt the divine character of the wound- 
 ings which are felt. It is well- known that severe 
 
78 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 sickness and prospect of death will produce a re 
 pentance so like to genuine, godly sorrow, that the 
 wisest Christians have been misled by it. Many 
 have we seen and heard of who have expressed the 
 deepest contrition for past guilt, and have vehe 
 mently cried for mercy, with promises of amend 
 ment apparently as sincere as their confessions 
 were truthful who have conversed sweetly of par, 
 don, of joy in the Spirit, and have even related 
 ecstasies and marvellous manifestations ; and yet- 
 with all this, have proved to be hypocrites, by re 
 turning at the first opportunity to their old courses 
 of sin and folly. It hath happened unto them ac 
 cording to the proverb, " 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 people 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, notwith 
 standing the very great appearance there was in 
 their favour when they thought they could not 
 recover." We find, also, ready to our hand, in a 
 valuable work,* the following facts, which are but 
 
 * Arvine s Cyclopaedia of Anecdotes. 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 79 
 
 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 who, in pros 
 pect of death, had been apparently converted, but 
 had subsequently 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 evidence of genuine 
 conversion. If, therefore, they had died, as they 
 expected, have we not reason to believe that their 
 hopes of heaven would have proved terrible delu 
 sions ? 
 
 " A pious English physician once stated that he 
 had known some three hundred sick persons who, 
 soon expecting to die, had been led, as they sup 
 posed, to repentance of their sins, and saving faith 
 in Christ, but had eventually been restored to 
 health again. Only ten of all this number, so far 
 as he knew, gave any evidence of being really re 
 generated. Soon after their recovery they plunged, 
 as a general thing, into the follies and vices of the 
 world. Who would trust, then, in such conver 
 sions ?" 
 
 Such examples serve as a holy warning to us all, 
 lest we too should only feel an excitement produced 
 by terror, and should find the flame of piety utterly 
 quenched when the cause of alarm is withdrawn. 
 
80 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 Some of us can trace our first serious thoughts to 
 the bed of sickness, when, in the loneliness of our 
 chamber, " We thought upon our ways, and turned 
 our feet unto his testimonies."* But this very 
 circumstance was at the time a source of doubt, 
 for we said within ourselves, " Will this continue 
 when my sickness is removed, or shall I not find 
 my apathy return, when again I enter on the busi 
 ness of the world ?" Our great anxiety was not 
 lest we should die, but lest living we should find 
 our holy feelings clear gone, and our piety evapo 
 rated. Possibly our reader is now sick, and this is 
 his trouble ; let us help you through it. Of course, 
 the best proof you can have of your own sincerity 
 is that which you will receive when health returns, 
 if you continue steadfast in the faith of Jesus, and 
 follow on to know him. Perseverance^ when the 
 pressure is removed, will discover the reality of 
 your repentance. The natural wounds inflicted by 
 Providence are healed soon after the removal of 
 the rod, and folly is not thereby brought out of the 
 heart ; but when Jesus smites for sin, the wounds 
 will smart even when the instrumental rod of cor 
 rection is removed, while " the blueness of the 
 wound cleanseth away evil."f We, who had mary 
 mock repentances ere we really turned to the living 
 God, can now see the main spring of our error. 
 
 * Prov. cix. 59. f Prov. xx. 30. 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 8 1 
 
 Every tliief loves honesty when he finds the jail 
 uneasy ; almost every murderer will regret that he 
 slew a man when he is about to be executed foi 
 his crime : here is the first point of distinction 
 which we beg our reader to observe. 
 
 That repentance which is genuine ariseth not so 
 much from dread of punishment as from fear of 
 sin. It is not fear of damning, but fear of sinning, 
 which makes the truly humbled cry out for grace. 
 True, the fear of hell, engendered by the threaten- 
 ings of the law, doth work in the soul much horror 
 and dismay ; but it is not hell appearing exceeding 
 dreadful, but sin becoming exceeding sinful and 
 abominable, which is the eifectual work of grace. 
 Any man in his reason would tremble at everlast 
 ing burnings, more especially when by his nearness 
 to the grave the heat of hell doth, as it were, scorch 
 him ; but it is not every dying man that hates sin 
 yea, none do so unless the Lord hath had deal 
 ings with their souls. Say, then, dost thou hate 
 hell or hate sin most ? for, verily, if there were no 
 hell, the real penitent would love sin not one whit 
 the more, and hate evil not one particle the less. 
 Wouldst thou love to have thy sin and heaven 
 too ? If thou wouldst, thou hast not a single spark 
 of divine life in thy soul, for one spark would con 
 sume thy love to sin. Sin to a sin-sick soul is so 
 desperate an evil that it would scarce be straining 
 the truth to say that a real penitent had rather 
 
 4* 
 
82 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 suffer the pains of hell without his sins than enter 
 the bliss of heaven with them, if such things were 
 possible. Sin, sin, SIN, is the accursed thing which 
 the living soul hateth. 
 
 Again : saving repentance will most easily mani 
 fest itself when the subjects of our thoughts are 
 most heavenly. By this we mean, if our sorrow 
 only gushes forth when we are musing upon the 
 doom of the wicked, and the wrath of God, we 
 have then reason to suspect its evangelical charac 
 ter; but if contemplations of Jesus, of his cross, 
 of heaven, of eternal love, of covenant grace, of 
 pardoning blood and full redemption bring tears 
 to our eyes, we may then rejoice that we sorrow 
 after a godly sort. The sinner awakened by the 
 Holy Spirit will find the source of his stream of 
 sorrow not on the thorn-clad sides of Sinai, but 
 on the grassy mound of Calvary. His cry will be, 
 "O sin, I hate thee, for thou didst murder my 
 Lord;" and his mournful dirge over his crucified 
 Redeemer will be in plaintive words 
 
 " Twas you, ray sins, my cruel sins, 
 
 His chief tormentors were ; 
 Each of my crimes became a nail, 
 
 And unbelief the spear ; 
 Twas you that pull d the vengeance down 
 
 Upon his guiltless head ; 
 Break, break, my heart, oh burst mine eyes, 
 
 And let my sorrows bleed." 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 83 
 
 Ye who love the Lord, give jour assent to this our 
 declaration, that love did melt you more than 
 wrath, that the wooing voice did more affect you 
 than the condemning sentence, and that hope did 
 impel you more than fear. It was when viewing 
 our Lord as crucified, dead, and buried that we 
 most wept. He with his looks made us weep bit 
 terly, while the stern face of Moses caused us to 
 tremble, but never laid us prostrate confessing our 
 transgression. We sorrow because our offence is 
 against Him, 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, saving repentance will render the 
 conscience exceedingly tender, so that it will he 
 pained to the quick at the very recollection of the 
 smallest sin. Natural repentance crieth out at a 
 few master-sins, which have been most glaring and 
 heinous the more especially if some visitor point 
 them out as crimes of the blackest dye ; but when 
 it hath executed one or two of these on the gallows 
 of confession, it is content to let whole hosts of less 
 notorious offenders escape without so much as a 
 reprimand. Not so the man whose penitence is 
 of divine origin he hates the whole race of the 
 Evil One; like Elijah he will cry, "Let none 
 
84 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 escape ; " lie will cut up to the best of his power 
 every root of bitterness which may still remain, 
 nor will he willingly harbour a single traitor in his 
 breast. The secret sins, the every-day offences, 
 the slight errors (as the world has it), the harmless 
 follies, the little transgressions, the peccadilloes, all 
 these will be dragged forth to death when the Lord 
 searcheth 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 exception of others ; his work is per 
 fect, not partial ; his cleansings are complete bap 
 tisms ; his purifyings tend to remove all our dross, 
 and consume all our tin. He sweeps the heart 
 from its dust as well 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, youth 
 ful sins and manhood s sins, sins of omission and 
 of commission, of word and of deed, of thought 
 and of imagination, sins against God "or against 
 man, all will combine like a column of serpents in 
 the desert to affright 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 awakened unless thou abhorrest 
 sin in all its stages, from the embryo to the ripe 
 fruit, and in all its shades, from the commonly 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 85 
 
 allowed lust down 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. Beware that thou 
 write not down affright at one sin as being repent 
 ance for all. 
 
 There are, 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 expatiate on more of these than are 
 thp most usual causes of grief to the Lord s people. 
 We beseech the ever-gracious Spirit to reveal the 
 person of Jesus to every smitten sinner; 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 
 doctrine, 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 
 
86 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 
 
 our readers, as they love their souls, to " examine 
 themselves whether they be in the faith." Oh ! 
 remember it will be all too late to decide this ques 
 tion soon, since it will cease to be a question. The 
 time will have passed for hopeful changes and 
 gracious discoveries ; the only changes will be to 
 torments more excruciating, and discoveries then 
 will but reveal horrors more and more bitterly 
 astounding. "We wonder not that men should 
 anxiously inquire concerning their position ; we 
 might marvel more that the most of them are so 
 indifferent, so utterly careless to the things of the 
 kingdom of heaven. It is not our body, our estate, 
 our liberty, concerning which there is this question 
 at law, it is a suit of far weightier nature our 
 eternal existence in heaven or hell. Let us nar 
 rowly inspect our innermost feelings ; let us search 
 what manner of men we be ; let us rigidly scru 
 tinize our heart, and learn whether it be right with 
 God or no. Let not the good opinion of our fel 
 low-men mislead us, but let us search for ourselves, 
 lest we be found like the mariner who bought his 
 bags 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 opinion, ror it is 
 more easy to deceive ourselves than the elect. He 
 was not far from truth who said, " We strive as 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 87 
 
 hard to hide our hearts from ourselves as from 
 others, and always with more success; for, in 
 deciding upon our own case, we are both judge, 
 and jury, and executioner; and where sophistry 
 cannot overcome the first, or flattery 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 comes up to the 
 price."* Since we are liable to be self-deceived, 
 let us be the more vigilant, giving most earnest 
 heed to every warning and reproof, lest the very 
 warning which we slight should be that which 
 might have shown us our danger. Many trades 
 men are ruined by neglecting their books ; but he 
 who frequently casts up his accounts will know his 
 own position, and avoid such things as would be 
 hazardous or destructive. ISTo 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 steered 
 onward to rocks which prudent foresight would 
 easily have avoided. Let us not sleep as do others, 
 but rouse ourselves to persevering watchfulness, 
 by the solemn consideration that if we be at last 
 mistaken in our soul s condition, the error can 
 never be amended. Here, if one battle be lost, a 
 
 * Colton. 
 
88 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 
 
 hopeful commander expects to retrieve 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 
 prospect of commencing trade again business 
 may yet prosper, competence may yet bless him, 
 and even wealth may deign to fill his house with her 
 hidden treasures ; but he who finds himself a bank 
 rupt in another world, without God, without Christ, 
 without hope, 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 for ever lie ; death is 
 the Medusa 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 rectifying our present 
 errors in a future state of existence, we might have 
 some excuse for superficial or infrequent investiga 
 tion ; 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 inconceivable 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 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 89 
 
 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 drinking the 
 wines on the lees, well refined. Surely, among the 
 damned, there are none more horribly tormented 
 in the flame than those who looked to walk the 
 golden streets, but found themselves cast into 
 outer darkness, where there is weeping, and wail 
 ing, and gnashing of teeth. The higher the pinna 
 cle from which we slip, the more fearful will be 
 our fall ; crownless kings, beggared princes, and 
 starving nobles ; are the more pitiable because of 
 their former condition of affluence and grandeur : 
 so also will fallen professors have a sad pre-emi 
 nence of damnation, from the very fact that they 
 were once esteemed rich and increased in goods. 
 When we consider the vast amount of unsound 
 profession which prevails in this age, and which, 
 like a smooth but shallow sea, doth scarcely conceal 
 the rocks of hypocrisy 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 
 
90 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 should be discovered when total destruction has 
 rendered it too late for anything but despair. 
 
 O age of profession, put thyself in the crucible ! 
 O nation of formalists, take heed lest ye receive the 
 form and reject the Spirit! O reader, let us each 
 commence a thorough trial of our own spirits ! 
 
 " Oh ! what am I ? My soul awake, 
 And an impartial survey take : 
 Does no dark sign, no ground of fear, 
 In practice or in heart appear ? 
 
 " What image does my spirit bear ? 
 Is Jesus form d and living 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 appear 
 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 proof that he is there, 
 Without one gloomy doubt or fear." 
 
 III. "We close our chapter by the 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 engage 
 ment. Ah ! brethren, when we were groaning 
 under the chastening hand of Jesus, we thought 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 91 
 
 him cruel ; do we think so ill of him now ? "We 
 conceived that he was wroth with us, and would be 
 implacable ; how have our surmises proved to be 
 utterly confounded ! The abundant benefit which 
 we now reap from the deep ploughing of our heart 
 is enough of itself to reconcile us to the severity 
 of the process. Precious is that wine which is 
 pressed in the winefat of conviction ; pure is that 
 gold which is dug from the mines of repentance ; 
 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. Wo had never been so separated from fleshly 
 trusting had He not by his rod revealed the cor 
 ruption, 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 remem 
 brance of what we once suffered for here lies our 
 power to sympathise. If we can now look down 
 with scorn upon the boastings of vain, self-con 
 ceited man, it is because our own vaunted strength 
 has utterly failed us, and made us contemptible in 
 our own eyes. If we can now plead with ardent 
 desire for the souls of our fellow-men, and especi 
 ally if we feel a more than common passion for the 
 salvation of sinners, we must attribute it in no 
 small degree to the fact that we have been smitten 
 
92 THE SAINT AND HIS 8AVHUB. 
 
 for sin, and therefore knowing the terrors of the 
 Lord are constrained to persuade men. The labo 
 rious pastor, the fervent minister, the ardent evan 
 gelist, the faithful teacher, the powerful intercessor, 
 can all trace the birth of their zeal to the sufferings 
 they endured for sin, and the knowledge they 
 thereby attained 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 ; this alone may render us 
 eternally grateful to the Saviour for his rebukes of 
 love. 
 
 We may pause for a moment over another 
 thought, if we call to mind our deep depravity. 
 We find within us a strong and deep-seated attach 
 ment to the world and its sinful pleasures; our 
 heart is still prone to wander, and our affections 
 yet cleave to things below. Can we wonder then 
 that it required a sharp knife to sever us at first 
 from our lusts, which were then as dear to us as 
 the members of our body ? so foul a disease could 
 only be healed by frequent draughts of bitter medi 
 cine. Let us detest the sin which rendered such 
 rough dealing necessary, but let us adore the 
 Saviour who spared not the child for his crying. 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 93 
 
 If our sin had been like the hyssop on the wall, 
 our own hand might have gently snapped the 
 roots ; but 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 complain of the loudness 
 of the thunder, but rejoice at the overturning of 
 our sin. Will the man who is asleep in a burning 
 house murmur at his deliverer for shaking him too 
 roughly in his bed ? Would the traveller, totter 
 ing on the brink of a precipice, upbraid the friend 
 who startled him from his reverie, and saved him 
 from destruction ? Would not the harshest words 
 and the roughest usage be acknowledged most 
 heartily as blows of love and warnings of affection ? 
 Best of all, when we view these matters in the light 
 of eternity, how little are these slight and moment 
 ary afflictions compared with the doom thereby 
 escaped, or the bliss afterwards attained ! Stand 
 ing 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 contem 
 plating for an instant the fathomless depth of eter 
 nal misery, with all its deprivation, desperation, 
 and aggravation considering that we at this hour 
 might have been in our own persons enduring the 
 doom we deprecate, surely it is easy work to 
 overlook the pain of our conviction, and bless with 
 all sincerity " the hand which rescued us." O 
 
94 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 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 glorious 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 mercifully 
 severe. We are sure not one stroke fell too hea 
 vily, nor was one pang too painful. Faithful thou 
 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 toward thy throne of light, 
 though in their unceasing hallelujahs thy tender 
 mercies and loving kindnesses shall claim the high 
 est 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 affliction. While here on earth we hymn 
 thy praise in humbler strains, and thus adore thy 
 love 
 
 " Long unafflicted, undismay d, 
 In pleasure s path secure I stray d. 
 Thou mad st me feel thy chastening rod, 
 And straight I turned unto my God. 
 
 "What though it pierced my fainting heart, 
 I bless the hand that caused the smart : 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 95 
 
 It taught my tears awhile to flow, 
 But saved me from eternal woe. 
 
 " Oh! hadst 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, my God, 
 And breathe towards thy dear abode j 
 Where, in thy presence fully blest, 
 Thy chosen saints for ever rest." 
 
96 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 TO THE UNCONYEKTED KEADEK. 
 
 FKDEND, In this chapter thou hast parted com 
 pany with the Christian. Thou couldst join with 
 him while he esteemed not Jesus, but now that 
 Christ has begun to wound the conscience of his 
 child, thou biddest him adieu, and proudly boas- 
 teth that thou art not one of so miserable a charac 
 ter. Notwithstanding this, I am loath to part with 
 thee until I have again expostulated with thee. 
 
 Thou thinkest it a blessing to be free from the 
 sad feelings we have been describing, but let me 
 tell, thee it is thy curse thy greatest, deadliest 
 curse that thou art a stranger to such inward 
 mourning for thy guilt. In the day when the 
 Judge of heaven and earth shall divide tares from 
 wheat, thou wilt see how terrible it is to be an un- 
 regenerate sinner. When the flames of hell get 
 hold upon thee, thou wilt wish in vain for that very 
 experience which now thou dost set at nought. It 
 will not be all May-day with thee ; thine hour of 
 death is as sure as another man s, and then a bet- 
 
FAITHFUL WOUNDS. 97 
 
 ter 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 condition appears, 
 it is not half so sad as thine, and there is not one 
 of all those moaning penitents who would change 
 places 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, re 
 member those who are now in such darkness will 
 soon see the light, but thou shalt soon walk in 
 increasing and unceasing darkness. Their sorrows 
 shall be ended ; thine are not yet commenced, and 
 when commenced shall never know a conclusion. 
 Theirs is 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 ETEKNAL 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 rather 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 which burneth with 
 
 5 
 
98 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 fire unquenchable. What sayest thou to this ? 
 Canst thou dwell with devouring flames ? Canst 
 thou 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 ? Why then think it foolish to repent? 
 Has not God threatened his fierce wrath to him 
 that goeth on in his iniquity ? Why then despise 
 those whom grace has turned, and who therefore are 
 constrained to bid thee turn from the error of thy 
 sinful ways ? May the Lord stay thy madness in 
 time, and give thee repentance, otherwise "Tophet 
 is ordained of old : the pile thereof is fire and much 
 wood ; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of 
 brimstone, doth kindle it." * 
 
 * Isa. xxx. 83. 
 
III. 
 
 JESUS DESIRED. 
 
 Oh that I knew where I might find him ! " JOB xxiii. 3. 
 
 A WHILE the woun dings of Jesus are given in the 
 dark, and we do not recognise the hand which 
 smiteth us ; but it is not always to be so. Inces 
 sant disappointments put us out of all heart with 
 the former refuges of our souls, and renewed dis 
 coveries make us sadly aware of the superlative 
 evil dwelling in our flesh ; stripped thus of all 
 covering without, and trembling at our own shame 
 ful impotence, we hail with gladness the news of a 
 Saviour for sinners. As on the frail raft, the almost 
 skeleton mariners, having long ago 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 the dying sinner 
 receive with eagerness the message of coming 
 grace. He might have scorned the terms of mercy 
 once, but like a city long besieged, he is now too glad 
 
100 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 to receive peace at any price. The grace which in 
 his high estate he counted as a worthless 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 honor to kiss his feet or unloose 
 the latchet of his shoes. No cavilling at sovereignty, 
 no murmuring at self-humiliation, no scorning the 
 unpurchasable gifts of discriminating love ; the 
 man is too poor to be proud, too sick to struggle 
 with his physician, too much afraid of death to re 
 fuse 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 strange things in the dealings of 
 Jesus, that even when we arrive at this state of en 
 tire spiritual destitution, we do not always become 
 at once the objects of his justifying grace. Long 
 seasons frequently intervene between our know 
 ledge of our ruin, our hearing of a deliverer, and 
 the application of that deliverer s hand. The Lord s 
 own called ones frequently turn their eyes to the 
 hills, and find no help coming therefrom ; yea, 
 they wish to look unto him, but they are so blinded 
 that they cannot 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, 
 " Ah ! my vileness disqualifies me for Christ, and 
 
JESUS DESIEED. 101 
 
 my exceeding sinfulness shuts out his love ?" How 
 foully doth unbelief lie when it thus slandereth the 
 tender heart of Jesus ! how inhumanly cruel it is 
 when it thus takes the cup of salvation from the 
 only lips which have a right to drink thereof ! We 
 have noticed in the preaching of the present day 
 too much of a saint s gospel, and too little of a sin 
 ner s gospel. Honesty, morality, and goodness, 
 are commended not so much as the marks of god 
 liness, as the life of it ; and men are told that as 
 they sow, so they shall reap, without the absolutely 
 necessary caveat that salvation is not of man, nei 
 ther 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 fullness they de 
 clared 
 
 " Not the righteous, not the righteous 
 Sinners, Jesus came to save." 
 
 The words of a much calumniated preacher are 
 not less bold than true : 
 
 " There is nothing in men, though 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 wretched creatures, that 
 they think it impossible that Christ should belong 
 to such wretched persons as they are. You know 
 
102 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUR. 
 
 not (saith one) what an abominable sinner I am ; 
 you look upon others, and their sins are but ordi 
 nary, but mine are of a deep dye, and I shall die 
 in them : the rebellion 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 sinfolness that can be imagined in 
 a creature 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 congrega 
 tion should not only be the vilest sinner in the 
 world, but should have all the sins of others, be 
 sides 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 ; yet, if he should 
 bear all the sins of others, as I said, there is no bar 
 to this person, but Christ may be his portion. l He 
 bore the sins of many (saith the text), but he bare 
 them not as his own, he bare them for many. Sup 
 pose 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 together. 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 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 103 
 
 Christ s obedience should be yours. Do but ob 
 serve the strain of the Gospel, you shall find that 
 no sin in the world can be a bar to hinder a person 
 from having a part in Christ ; look upon the con 
 dition of persons (as they are revealed in the Gos 
 pel) to whom Christ is reached out ; and the con 
 sideration of their persons will plainly show to you 
 that there is no kind of sirifulness can bar a person 
 from having a part in Christ. Consider Christ s 
 own expression, I came to seek and to save that 
 which was 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 the worst condition (as 
 some might think) rather than in the best. Our 
 Saviour is pleased to express himself in a direct 
 contrary way to the opinion of men. * I came not 
 to call the righteous, but sinners ; the poor pub 
 lican that had nothing to plead for himself went 
 away more justified than the proud pharisee, who 
 pleaded with God, <I thank thee that I am not 
 such an one. 
 
 Men think righteousness brings them 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 ser 
 vice to expect acceptance with Christ or participa- 
 
104 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 tion in Christ this kind of righteousness is the 
 only separation between Christ and a people ; and 
 whereas no sinfulness in the world can debar a 
 people, their righteousness may debar them." * 
 
 Possibly some may object to such terms as these 
 as being too strong and unguarded, but a full con 
 sideration of them will show that they are such as 
 would naturally flow 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 make men see the whole of this 
 truth, for it is one which of all things the mind can 
 least receive. 
 
 If it were possible to make men clearly under 
 stand that justification is not in the least degree by 
 their own works, how easy would it be to comfort 
 them ! but herein lies the greatest of all difficulties. 
 Man cannot be taught that his goodness is no in 
 crease to God s wealth, and his sin no diminution 
 of divine riches ; he will for ever be imagining that 
 some little presents must be offered, 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 anything, yet trembles to come 
 
 * Crisp. 
 
JESUS DESIKED. 105 
 
 naked and as he is. He knows he cannot do any 
 thing, but he can scarcely credit the promise which 
 seems too good to be true " I will heal their back 
 sliding, I will love them freely : for mine anger is 
 turned away from him." * Yea, when he cannot 
 deny the evidence of his own eyes, because 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 fearing 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 water : conscious that in Christ 
 is all his help, it yet appears too great a presump 
 tion even to touch the hem of the Saviour s gar 
 ment. Nor is it easy to persuade the mourning 
 penitent that sin is no barrier to grace, but that 
 " where sin aboundeth, 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 there 
 fore " he devises means that His banished be not 
 expelled from him." f By the divine instruction 
 
 * Hos. xiv. 4. f 2 Sam. xiv. 14. 
 
 5* 
 
106 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 
 mouths of weariness and days of languishing. 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 seek 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 probability of it, and pray for the 
 many who 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 w T ho 
 are in this miserable condition may escape by the 
 same means ! O ye prisoners of hope, who are 
 seeking a Redeemer who apparently eludes your 
 grasp, let your earnest prayer accompany 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 the sinner s friend ? 
 
JESUS DESIKED. 107 
 
 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, 
 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, most unclean ; 
 Me, the farthest from thy face, 
 Full of misery and sin ; 
 Me with arms of love receive ; 
 Me, of sinners chief forgive /" * 
 
 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 
 behaviour in it, and escape from it. 
 
 I. It is our pleasant duty to note the hopeful 
 signs which gladden us when reviewing this state. 
 
 * C. Wesley. 
 
108 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 
 
 1. We are cheered by observing that the longing 
 of the spirit is now entirely after Jesus " Oh that 
 I knew where I might find Him /" Once, like the 
 many whom David mentions, the inquiry was, 
 " Who will show us any good ?" A question indis 
 criminately addressed to any and all within hear 
 ing, demanding with eagerness any good in all the 
 world. But now the desires have found a chan 
 nel, they are no longer like the wide-spread sheet 
 of water covering with shallow depth a tract of 
 marsh teeming 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, piercing eye " of the astronomer, or " cut 
 through the working wave " to win the pearl, or 
 wear themselves away in smoky toil, while as 
 " subtle chymics " they divest and strip the crea 
 ture naked, till they find the callow principles 
 within their nests ; in fine, will do anything and 
 everything of inferior importance, but here are so 
 negligent 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 
 
 * Herbert. 
 
JESUS DESIEED. 109 
 
 of our text, it 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, conversion, washing, instruction, justifica 
 tion, adoption, and all other spiritual blessings ; but 
 now the soul discerns all mercies bound up in one 
 bundle in Jesus, and it inquires no more for cassia, 
 aloes, and camphire, but asks for Him who hath 
 the savour of all good ointments. 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 be 
 fore he hath it ; and he who knoweth Jesus to be 
 full of hid treasures of mercy, and seeketh him 
 diligently, shall not be too ]ong 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, u 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. Yain were ceremonies vain as 
 empty wells to the thirsty Arab. Yain were the 
 delights of the flesh bitter as the waters of Marah, 
 which even the parched lips of Israel refused to 
 drink. Yain were the directions of the legal 
 preacher useless as the howling of the wind to 
 
110 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 the benighted wanderer. Yain, worse than vain, 
 were our refuges of lies, which fell about our ears 
 like Dagon s temple on the heads of the worship 
 pers. One only hope we had, one sole refuge for 
 our misery. Save where that ark floated, north, 
 south, east, and west, were one broad expanse of 
 troubled waters ; save where that star burned, the 
 sky was one vast field of unmitigated darkness. 
 Jesus, Jesus, Jesus ! he alone, he without another, 
 had become the solitary hiding-place against the 
 storm. As the wounded, lying on the battle-field, 
 with wounds which, like fires, consume his mois 
 ture, utters only one monotonous cry of thrilling 
 importunity, " Water, water, water !" so did we 
 perpetually send our prayer to heaven, " Jesus, 
 thou Son of David, have mercy on me ! O Jesus, 
 come to me !" 
 
 " Gracious Lord ! incline thine ear, 
 My requests vouchsafe to hear ; 
 Hear my never-ceasing cry 
 Give me Christ, or else I die. 
 
 " Wealth 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 ; 
 Suppliant at thy feet I lie, 
 Give me Christ, or else I die. 
 
JESUS DESIRED. Ill 
 
 " All unholy and unclean, 
 I am nothing 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. 
 
 " Thou dost promise to forgive 
 All who in thy Son believe ; 
 Lord, I know thou canst not lie, 
 Give me Christ, 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 tantaliseth thirst with painted rivers, 
 as he that embitter eth hunger s pangs by the offer 
 ing of pictured fruits, so were they who spoke of 
 ought else save Christ and him crucified. Our 
 heart ached with a void the whole earth could not 
 fill ; it heaved with a desire as irresistible as the 
 mountain torrent, and as little able to be restrained 
 as the volcano when swelling with its fiery lava. 
 Every power, every passion, every wish, moved 
 onward in one direction. Like to an army press 
 ing upwards through a breach, did our united 
 powers rush forward to enter the city of salvation 
 by one door that door Jesus the Lord. Our soul 
 
112 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 could spare no portion of itself for others ; it 
 pressed the whole of its strength into the service 
 to win Christ, and to be found in him. And oh ! 
 how glorious did Jesus then seem 1 what would we 
 not have given, to have had the scantiest morsel 
 of his grace? "A kingdom for a horse!" cried 
 the routed monarch. " A kingdom for a look a 
 world for a smile our whole selves for one kind 
 word !" was then our far wiser prayer. Oh what 
 crushing we would have endured, if in the crowd 
 we could have approached his person ? what tramp 
 ing would we have borne, if our finger might have 
 touched the lowest hem of his garments ! Bear us 
 witness, ye hours of ardent desire, what horrors 
 we would have braved, what dangers we would 
 have encountered, what tortures we would have 
 Buffered, for one brief glimpse of Him whom our 
 souls desired to know ! We could have trodden 
 the burning marl of hell at his bidding, if his face 
 had but been in prospect ; and as for Peter s march 
 upon the deep, we would have waded to our very 
 necks without a fear, if it were but with half a 
 hope of a welcome from the Lord on the other side. 
 He had no robbers then to share his throne, no 
 golden calf to provoke him to jealousy. He was 
 the monarch reigning without a rival. "No part of 
 our heart was then shut up from him; he was 
 welcomed in every chamber of our being. There 
 was not a tablet of the heart which was not en- 
 
JESTJS DESIEED. 113 
 
 graven with his name, nor a string of our harp 
 which did not vibrate with his praise, nor an atom 
 of our frame which would not have leaped for very 
 joy at the distant sound of his footsteps. Such a 
 condition of longing alone for Jesus is so healthy, 
 that many advanced believers would be well-nigh 
 content to retrace their steps, if they might once 
 more be fully occupied with that desire to the 
 exclusion of every other. 
 
 If my reader be fully resolved to satisfy his hun 
 ger only with the manna which cometh down from 
 heaven if he be determined to slake his thirst at 
 no stream save that which gusheth ^rom the Bock 
 if he will accept no cordial of comfort save that 
 which is compounded of the herbs of Gethsemane 
 it is, it must be, well with him. If none but 
 Jesus is thy delight, take heart. Augustine cast 
 away Tully s works because there was no Christ in 
 them ; if thou, like him, dost renounce all but 
 Christ, Christ will never renounce thee. 
 
 2. Another pleasing feature of this case is, the 
 intense sincerity and ardent earnestness of the soul. 
 Here is an " Oh !" a deep, impassioned, burning 
 ejaculation of desire. It is no fanciful wish, which 
 a little difficulty will presently overcome it is no 
 effervescence of excitement, which time will re 
 move ; but it is a real w r ant, fixed in the core of 
 the heart so firmly, that nothing but a supply of 
 the need can silence the importunate petition It 
 
114: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 is not the passing sierla, which the half-awakened 
 
 L O O " 
 
 heave as a compliment to an eloquent discourse or 
 a stirring tract, it is not the transient wish of the 
 awe-struck spectator who has seen a sudden death 
 or a notable judgment, it is not even the longing 
 of a soul in love for a time with the moral excel 
 lences of Christ ; but it is the prayer of one who 
 needs must pray, who cannot, who dare not, rest 
 satisfied until he find Jesus who can no more 
 restrain his groaning than the light clouds can 
 refuse to fly before the violence of the wind. We 
 have, we hope, many a time enjoyed nearness to 
 the throne of grace in prayer ; but perhaps never 
 did such a prayer escape our lips as that which we 
 offered in the bitterness of our spirit when seeking 
 the Saviour. We have often poured out our hearts 
 with greater freedom, with more delight, with 
 stronger faith, with more eloquent language ; but 
 never, never have we cried with more vehemence 
 of unquenchable desire, or more burning heat of 
 insatiable longing. There was then no sleepiness 
 or sluggishness in our devotion ; we did not then 
 need the whip of command to drive us to labours 
 of prayer; but our soul could not be content, 
 unless with sighs and lamentations with strong 
 crying and tears it gave vent to our bursting 
 hearts. Then we had no need to be dragged to 
 our closets like oxen to the slaughter, but we flew 
 to them like doves to their windows * and when 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 115 
 
 there we needed no pumping up of desires, but 
 they gushed forth like a fountain of waters, although 
 at times we felt we could scarcely find them a 
 channel. 
 
 Mr. Philpot justly observes, " When the Lord is 
 graciously pleased to enable the soul to pour out 
 its desires, and to offer up its fervent breathings at 
 his feet, and to give them out as He gives them in, 
 then to call upon the Lord is no point of duty, 
 which is to be attended to as a duty ; it is no point 
 of legal constraint, which must be done because 
 the Word of God speaks of it ; but it is a feeling, 
 an experience, an inward work, which springs from 
 the Lord s hand, and which flows in the Lord s 
 own divine channel. Thus when the Lord is 
 pleased to pour out this Spirit of grace and of 
 supplication, we must pray ; but we do not pray 
 because we must ; we pray because we have no 
 better occupation, we have no more earnest desire, 
 we have no more powerful feeling, and we have no 
 more invincible and irresistible constraint. The 
 living child of God groans and sighs, because it is 
 the expression of his wants because it is a lan 
 guage which pours forth the feelings of his heart 
 because groans and sighs are pressed out of him 
 .by the heavy weight upon him. A man lying in 
 the street with a heavy weight upon him will call 
 for help ; he does not say, i It is my duty to cry to 
 the passers by for help ; he cries for help because 
 
116 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 
 
 he wants to be delivered. A man with a broken 
 leg does not say, It is my duty to send for a sur 
 geon ; he wants him to set the limb. And a man 
 in a raging disease does not say, It is my duty to 
 send for a physician ; he wants him to heal his 
 disease. So when God the Holy Spirit works in a 
 child of God, he prays, not out of a sense of duty, 
 but from a burdened heart ; he prays, because he 
 cannot but pray ; he groans, because he cannot 
 but groan ; he sighs, because he must sigh, having 
 an inward weight, an inward burden, an inward 
 experience, in which, and out of which, he is com 
 pelled to call upon the Lord."* 
 
 The supplication of the penitent is no mechan 
 ical form of devotion, followed for the sake of 
 merit ; it is the natural consequence of the wound 
 ing of Jesus ; and its offerer knows no more of 
 merit in presenting it than in breathing, or any 
 other act which necessity prevents him from sus 
 pending. This " Oh!" is one which will not rise 
 once and then sink for ever ; it is not the explosion 
 of a starry rocket, succeeded by darkness; but 
 it will be an incessant ejaculation of the inner man. 
 As at some of our doors every hour brings a post, 
 so at the door of mercy every hour will hear a 
 prayer from such an one ; in fact, the soul will be 
 full of prayer even when it is not in the exercise 
 
 * Sermon on Prayer and its Answer. 
 
JESUS DESIKED. 117 
 
 itself even as a censer may 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 opportunity to develop itself in the 
 outward act of petitioning at the feet of mercy. It 
 is well when Mr. Desires-awake is sent to court, 
 for he will surely prevail. Yiolence taketh the 
 kingdom by force ; hard knocks open mercy s 
 door ; swift running overtakes the promise ; hard 
 wrestling wins the blessing. 
 
 When the child crieth well, his lungs are sound ; 
 and when the seeker can with impetuous earnest 
 ness 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 ; BO when the heart breaketh 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 sense of igno 
 rance which the seeker here expresses " h that 1 
 ~knew where I might find him !" Men are by nature 
 very wise in matters of religion, and in their own 
 opinion they might easily set up for Doctors of 
 Divinity without the slightest spiritual enlighten 
 ment. It is a remarkable fact that men who find 
 every science in the world to be too much for 
 them, even when they have but waded ankle-deep 
 into the elements thereof, can yet affect to be mas 
 ters of theology, and competent, yea, infallible 
 
118 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 judges in matters of religion. Nothing is more 
 easy than to pretend to a profound acquaintance 
 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, no 
 thing is more rare than really to be taught of God, 
 and illuminated by the Spirit; and yet without 
 this the religion of Jesus never can be really under 
 stood. Natural men will array themselves in 
 robes of learning, ascend the chair of profession, 
 and thence teach to others doctrines with which 
 they fancy themselves to be thoroughly conversant; 
 and if a word were hinted of their deficiency in 
 knowledge, and their inherent inability to discern 
 spiritual things, how wrathful would they become, 
 how fiercely would they denounce the bigotry of 
 such an assertion, and how furiously would they 
 condemn the cant and fanaticism which they con 
 ceive 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 
 question with the men of this generation, who love 
 to philosophise the "Word, and give what they call 
 " intellectual " views of the Gospel. How little 
 do they suspect that, professing themselves to be 
 wise, they have become fools ! How little do they 
 imagine that their grand theories and learned essays 
 are but methods of the madness of folly, and, like 
 paintings on the windows of their understanding, 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 119 
 
 assist to shut out the light of the Holy Spirit. 
 Self-conceit in men who are destitute of heavenly 
 light, unconsciously to them doth exercise itself 
 on that subject upon which their ignorance is of 
 necessity the greatest. They will acknowledge 
 that when they have studied astronomy, its subli 
 mities are beyond them; they will not arrogate 
 to themselves a lordship of the entire regions of any 
 one kingdom of knowledge ; but here, in theology, 
 they feel themselves abundantly qualified, if they 
 have some readiness in the original languages, and 
 have visited the schools of the universities ; where 
 as a man might with as much justice style himself 
 professor of botany, because he knows the scientific 
 names of the classes and orders, although he has 
 never seen one of the flowers thus named and ar 
 ranged for what can education teach of theology 
 but names and theories? Experience alone can 
 bring the things themselves before our eyes, and 
 in the light of Jesus can we alone discern them. 
 We are pleased, therefore, to discover in the utter 
 ance of the awakened soul a confession of igno 
 rance. The man inquires " Where he can find the 
 Lord ?" He is self-confident no longer, but is wil 
 ling to ask his way to heaven ; he is prepared to 
 go to the very dame-school of piety, and learn the 
 alphabet of godliness. He may be distinguished 
 for his learning, but now a little child may leao? 
 him ; his titles, his gown, his diploma, his dignity, 
 
120 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 all these are laid aside, and down he sits at the feet 
 of Jesus to begin again, or rather to commence 
 learning what he never knew before. 
 
 Conviction of ignorance is the doorstep of the 
 temple of wisdom. " It is said in the Creed that 
 Christ descended into hell : descendit ut ascendat 
 He took his rising from the lowest place to ascend 
 into the highest ; and herein Christ readeth a good 
 lecture unto us he teacheth us that humility is the 
 way to glory." * Seneca remarked, I suppose that 
 many might have attained to wisdom, had they not 
 thought that had they already attained it.f We 
 must first be emptied of every particle of fleshly wis 
 dom, ere we can say that " Christ is made unto us 
 wisdom." We must know our folly, and confess it, 
 before we can be accepted as the disciples of Jesus. 
 It is marvellous how soon he doth unfrock us of our 
 grand apparel, and how easily our wisdom disap 
 pears like a bubble vanishing in air. We were 
 never greater fools than when our wisdoin was the 
 greatest in our own esteem; but as soon as real 
 wisdom came, straightway our opinion of ourselves 
 fell from the clouds to the bottom of the moun 
 tains. We were no divines or doctors when we 
 were under the convincing hand of the Spirit ; we 
 were far more like babes for ignorance, and we felt 
 ourselves to be very beasts for folly 4 Like men 
 
 * Ephr. Udall s Sermons, f Seneca de Ira, lib, iii. c. 36. 
 \ Ps. Ixxiii. 22. 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 121 
 
 lost in a dark wood, we could not find our paths ; 
 the roads which were once apparent enough, were 
 then hedged up with thorns ; and the very entrance 
 to the narrow way had to be pointed out by Evan 
 gelist,* and marked by a light. Nevertheless, 
 blessed is he who desireth to learn the fear of the 
 Lord, for he shall find it the beginning of wisdom. 
 Nor, in the present case, hath a sense of ignor 
 ance 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 pre 
 destination meeteth the agency of man !" No ; he 
 seeks only this, " Oh that I knew where I might 
 find Him!" Many are puzzling themselves about 
 abstract questions while their eternal interests are 
 in imminent peril ; such men are like the man who 
 counted the stars, but taking 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 de 
 bates of eternity Too great an inquisitiveness 
 
 beyond our line is as much a provoking arrogance 
 as a blockish negligence of what is revealed, is a 
 slighting ingratitude." f The quickened spirit dis 
 dains to pluck the wild flowers of carnal know 
 ledge ; he is not ambitious to reach the tempting 
 beauties blooming on the edge of the cliffs which 
 
 * Bunyan s Pilgrim. f Charnock s Divine Attributes. 
 
 6 
 
122 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 skirt the sea of the unrevealed ; bivt he anxiously 
 looks around for the rose of Sharon, the lily of the 
 valley. He who thus studieth only to know Christ, 
 shall soon, by the assistance of the Holy Spirit, 
 learn enough to spell out his own salvation. 
 
 4. An evidence of grace is presented to us by 
 the absence of all choice as to where the Saviour is 
 discovered. " Oh that I knew where I might find 
 him !" Here is no stipulation ; Jesus is wanted, 
 and let him be wherever he may, the soul is pre 
 pared to go after him. We, when in this state of 
 experience, knew little of sect or denomination. 
 Before our conviction we could fight for names, 
 like mercenaries for other men s countries. The 
 mottoes of our party were higher in our esteem 
 than the golden rules of Christianity ; and we 
 should have been by no means grieved at the con 
 flagration of every other section of professors, if our 
 own might have been elevated on the ruins. 
 Every rubric and form, every custom and antiquity, 
 we would have stained with our blood, if neces 
 sary, in order to preserve them ; and mightily did 
 we shout concerning our own Church, " Great is 
 Diana of the Ephesians." Not a nail in the 
 church-door but we reverenced it not a vestment 
 which we did not admire ; or, if we loved not 
 pomp, simplicities were magnified into our very 
 household gods. We hated popery, but were essen 
 tially papistical ; for we could have joined His 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 123 
 
 Unholiness in all his anathemas, if ie would but 
 have 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 scarcely think it possible 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 when, by Divine grace, the 
 sectarianism of our ungodliness did hide its head 
 for shame ! We then thought that we would go 
 among Methodists, Baptists, Episcopalians, Inde 
 pendents, Presbyterians, or anywhere, so that we 
 could but find a Redeemer for our guilty souls. It 
 is more than probable that we found it necessary 
 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 fan 
 cies of our former lives dissolved before the heat 
 of our desire. The huntsman loveth the mountain 
 which shadeth his valley more than all its giant 
 brothers ; but nevertheless, when in hot pursuit of 
 the chamois, he leapeth from crag to crag, and 
 asks not what is the name of the rock upon which 
 the object of his chase hath bounded ; so the sin 
 ner, ardently following after the Saviour, will pur 
 sue him whithersoever he goeth. 
 
 Nor at such seasons did we regard the respecta 
 bility of the denomination or the grandeur of the 
 
124 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 structure in which God was adored. The chapel 
 in the dark alley, the despised and deserted church, 
 the disreputable school-room, were now no longer 
 noticed with a sneer; but whether under the 
 vaulted sky of heaven, the cobwebbed thatch of a 
 barn, the dingy ceiling of a village station, or the 
 magnificent roof of the temple of the great assem 
 bly, we only sought one thing, and that one thing 
 found, all places were on a level. No praising a 
 church for its architectural beauty no despising a 
 meeting-house for its aboriginal 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 difference, though once, perhaps, we 
 might have looked aghast if any but my lady in 
 satin, or my lord in superfine broadcloth, had ven 
 tured into a pew within the range of our breath. 
 To us the company mattered not, so long as the 
 Master of the Feast would but reveal himself. The 
 place might be unconsecrated, the minister unor- 
 dained, 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 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 125 
 
 " peace be unto you." Nor do we think that any 
 one of the assembly even so much as thought 
 thereof while their Lord was present. It is well 
 when we are content to go whithersoever the 
 Lamb doth lead. Doubtless the catacombs of 
 Rome, the glens of Scotland, and the conventicles 
 of England, have been more frequented by the 
 King of kings than cathedrals or chapels-royal : 
 therefore do the godly count it little where they 
 worship, looking only for His presence which 
 maketh a hovel glorious, and deprecating his ab 
 sence, which makes even a temple desolate. We 
 would in our anxious mood have followed Jesus in 
 the cave, the mountain, the ravine, or the cata 
 comb, so that we might but have been within the 
 circle of his influence. 
 
 Nor would we have blushed to have sought Je 
 sus among his kinsfolk and acquaintance the sick, 
 the poor, the uneducated, but yet sincere children 
 of light. How did we then delight to sit in that 
 upper room where stars looked between the tiles, 
 and hear the heavenly conversation which, from a 
 miserable pallet surrounded by ragged hangings, 
 an enfeebled saint of the Lord did hold with us ! 
 Like divers, we valued the pearl, even though the 
 shell might be a broken one, nor did we care where 
 we went to win it. When those creaking stairs 
 
 O 
 
 trembled beneath our weight, when that bottomless 
 chair afforded us an uneasy rest, and when the heat 
 
126 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 and effluvia of that sick-room drove our companion 
 away, did we not feel more than doubly repaid 
 while that friend of Jesus told us of all his love, his 
 faithfulness and grace? It is frequently the case 
 that the most despised servants of the Lord are 
 made the chosen instruments of comforting dis 
 tressed souls, and building them up in the faith. 
 The writer confesses his eternal obligations to an 
 old cook, who was despised as an Antinomian, but 
 who in her kitchen taught him many of the deep 
 things of God, and removed many a doubt from his 
 youthful mind. Even eminent men have been in 
 debted to humble individuals for their deliverance: 
 take, for instance, Paul, and his comforter, Ana 
 nias ; and in our ow r n day, Bunyan, instructed by 
 the holy women at Bedford. True seekers will hunt 
 everywhere for Jesus, arid will not be too proud to 
 learn from beggars or little children. We take 
 gold from dark mines or muddy streams ; it were 
 foolish to refuse instruction in salvation from the 
 most unlettered or uncouth. Let us be really in 
 earnest after Christ, then circumstance and place 
 will be lightly esteemed. 
 
 We remark also that there is no condition for 
 distance in this question, it is only " where ;" and 
 though it be a thousand miles away, the man has 
 his feet in readiness for the journey. Desire o er- 
 leapeth space ; leagues to it are inches, and oceans 
 narrow into straits. Where, at one time, a mile 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 127 
 
 would tire the body, a long journey after the Word 
 is counted as nothing : yea, to stand in the house 
 of God for hours during service is reckoned a plea 
 sure and not a hardship. The Hindoo devotee, to 
 find a hopeless salvation, will roll himself along for 
 hundreds of miles : it seems but natural that we, 
 when searching for eternal life, should count all 
 things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge 
 of Christ Jesus our Lord. Mary Magdalene only 
 needed to know where they had laid her Lord, and 
 her resolve was, " I will take him away;" for surely, 
 she thought, her bodily strength could never fail 
 under such a burden, and she measured the power 
 of her body by the might of her love. So do desti 
 tute sinners, who need a Saviour, altogether laugh 
 at hazards or hardships w T hich may intervene. 
 Come mountain or valley, rapid or rock, whirlpool 
 or tempest, desire hath girded the traveller with an 
 omnipotence of heart, and a world of dangers is 
 trodden beneath the feet, with the shout of De 
 borah " O my soul, thou hast trodden down 
 strength." 
 
 " 1 doubt not," said Kutherford to Lady Ken- 
 mure, " that if hell were betwixt you and Christ, 
 as a river which ye behoved to cross ere ye could 
 come at him, but ye 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 
 
128 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 it is so with thee, reader, if thou art as we have 
 described. 
 
 We think also we may be allowed to add, that 
 the earnest inquirer does not object to any position 
 of humiliation which may be required of him ere 
 he can " see Jesus." It is only demanded " where ?" 
 and though the reply may be, "There, in yonder 
 cell of penitence, on your bended knees, stripped 
 of all your glories, shall you alone behold him," no 
 delay will reveal the lurking pride ; but an instan 
 taneous and joyful obedience will manifest that the 
 one absorbing passion has entirely swallowed up all 
 ideas of dignity, honour, and pride. 
 
 Like Benhadad, when in danger, hearing that the 
 king of Israel is a merciful king, we will consent to 
 put sackcloth on our loins, and ropes upon our 
 necks, and go in unto him, hoping for some words 
 of favour. We make a surrender at discretion, 
 without reserve of the arms of our sins or the bag 
 gage of our pleasures. He that is down so low as 
 to be wholly submissive, will find that even justice 
 will not smite him. Mercy always flieth near the 
 ground. The flower of grace groweth in the dells 
 of humility. The stars of love shine in the night 
 of our self-despair. If truth lie not in a well, cer 
 tainly mercy doth. The hand of justice spares the 
 sinner who has thrown away both the sword of re 
 bellion and the plumes of his pride. If we will do 
 and be anything or everything, so that we may but 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 129 
 
 win Christ, we shall soon find him to be everything 
 to us. There is no more hopeful sign of coming 
 grace than an emptiness of our own selfish terms 
 and conditions, for he resisteth the proud, but giv- 
 eth grace unto the lowly. 
 
 Thus have we tried to sum up all the promises 
 which this state affords, but cheering though they 
 be, we fear few will accept the comfort they afford ; 
 for, " as he that poureth vinegar upon nitre, so is 
 he that singeth songs to a sad heart ; and it is gen 
 erally in vain to condole a patient under an opera 
 tion by any reflections on the benefit thereof, see 
 ing that while the pain lasteth he will still cry out 
 and groan. Nevertheless, we who have escaped 
 cannot refrain from singing without the walls of 
 the dungeon, 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 who walked in 
 the garden, and made a noise that made Adam 
 hear his voice, will also at some time walk in your 
 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."* Epbrairn is bemoaning 
 and mourning f " when he thinketh God is far off, 
 and heareth not ; and yet God is like the bride 
 groom, standing only behind a thin wall,J and lay- 
 
 * Rutherford. f Jer. xxxi. 18. 
 
 Cant. ii. 9. 
 
130 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 ing to his ear, for he saith himself, I have su. ely 
 heard Ephraim bemoaning himself." " I will surely 
 have mercy upon him, saith the Lord." 
 
 Be thou of good cheer, O seeker; go on, for hope 
 prophesies success, and the signs of thy case prog 
 nosticate a happy deliverance. None who are like 
 thee have failed at last : persevere and be saved. 
 
 II. We are now arrived at our second division, 
 wherein we proposed to consider the reasons of this 
 tarrying. 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 ea 
 gerly, with these we have just now nothing 
 to do ; we are dealing with the genuine con 
 vert, the sincere searcher, who yet cannot find 
 his Lord. To the exercised mind no question is 
 more hard to answer than this, " Why doth he not 
 hear?" but when delivered from our distress, 
 nothing is more full of joy than the rich discovery 
 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." 
 
 1. We now perceive that it afforded pleasure to 
 Jesus to view the labours of our faith in pursuit after 
 him. Jesus doth often hide his face from his chil- 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 131 
 
 dren, that lie may hear the sweet music of their 
 cry. When the woman of Canaan came before our 
 Lord, he answered her not a word ; and when her 
 importunity did somewhat prevail, a harsh sentence 
 was all she obtained. Yet the blessed Jesus was 
 not angry with her, but was pleased to behold her 
 faith struggling amid the waves of his seeming neg 
 lect, and finding anchorage even on that hard word 
 which appeared like a rock ready to wreck her 
 hopes. He was so charmed with her holy daring 
 and heavenly resolution, that he detained her for a 
 time to feast his eyes upon the lovely spectacle. 
 The woman had faith in Christ, and Jesus would let 
 all men see what faith can do in honour of its Lord. 
 Great kings have among their attendants certain 
 well-trained artistes who play before them, while 
 they, sitting with their court, behold their feats 
 with pleasure. Now, Faith is the king s cham 
 pion, whom he delights to put upon labours of the 
 most herculean kind. Faith hath, when bidden by 
 its Master, stopped the sun and chained the moon ; 
 it hath dried the sea and divided rivers ; it hath 
 dashed bulwarks to the ground ; quenched the vio 
 lence of lire ; stopped the mouths of lions ; turned 
 to flight the armies of the aliens, and robbed death 
 of its prey. Importunity is the king s running 
 footman ; he hath been known to run whole months 
 together without losing his breath, and over moun 
 tains he leaps with the speed of Asahel ; therefore 
 
132 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUE. 
 
 doth the Lord at times try his endurance, for he loveth 
 to see what his own children can perform. Prayer , 
 also, is one of the royal musicians ; and although 
 many do prefer his brother, who is called Praise, 
 yet this one hath ever had an equal share of the 
 king s favour. His lute playeth so sweetly that the 
 heavens have smiled with sunshine for the space of 
 three years and six months * at the sound thereof ; 
 and when again- the melodious notes were heard, 
 the same skies did weep for joy, and rain descended 
 on the earth. Prayer hath made God s axe of ven 
 geance stay in mid air, although it was hastening to 
 fell the cumber-ground ; and his sword hath been 
 lulled to sleep in its scabbard by the soft sonnets of 
 prayer, when it sung of pardons bought with blood. 
 Therefore, because Jesus delighteth in these cour 
 tiers whom he hath chosen, he doth ever find them 
 work to do, whereby they may minister unto his 
 good pleasure. Surely thou who walkest in dark 
 ness, and seest no light, thou mayst be well content 
 to grope thy way for a while, if it be true that this 
 midnight journey is but one of the feats of faith 
 which God is pleased that thou shouldst perform. 
 Go on then in confidence. 
 
 2. We may sometimes regard this delay as an 
 exhibition of Divine sovereignty. God is not bound 
 to persons nor to time ; as he giveth to whom he 
 
 * James v. 17, 18. 
 
JESUS DESIKED. 133 
 
 pleaseth, so doth lie bestow his favours in his own 
 time and manner. Yery frequently the prayer 
 and the answer attend each other, as the echo doth 
 the speaker s voice. Usually it is, " Before they 
 call I will answer, and while they are yet speaking 
 I will hear." But Divine prerogative must be 
 manifested and maintained, and therefore he doth 
 sometimes give temporary denials or protracted 
 delays. Through some of our squares the right of 
 way is private, and in order to maintain the right, 
 although the road is usually open, yet there 
 are gates which at times are closed for a season, 
 lest any should imagine that they could demand 
 a passage ; so, although mercy be free and speedy, 
 yet it is not always immediate, that men may 
 know that the giver has a right to refuse. Jesus 
 is no paid physician, who is bound to give us his 
 calls ; therefore he will sometimes step in late in 
 the day, that we may remember he is not our 
 debtor. Oh ! our hearts loathe the pride which 
 bows not to Divine sovereignty, but arrogantly 
 declares God to be under obligations to his crea 
 tures. Those who are full of this satanic spirit will 
 not assert this in plain language, but while they 
 cavil at election, talking with impious breath about 
 " partiality," " injustice," " respect of persons," 
 and such like things, they too plainly show that 
 their old nature is yet unhumbled by Divine grace. 
 We are sure of this, that no convinced sinner, 
 
134 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVK UK. 
 
 when under a sense of his ill-desert, will ever dis 
 pute the justice of God in damning him, or quarrel 
 with the distinguishing grace which Heaven giveth 
 to one and not to another. If such a person has 
 not yet been able to subscribe to the doctrine of 
 sovereign, discriminating, electing grace, we won 
 der not that he hath found no peace ; for verily 
 Jesus will have him know that his bounties are in 
 his own hand, and that none can lajvany claim to 
 them. Herbert, in his Country * Parson, says, 
 " He gives no set pension unto any, for then, in 
 time, it will lose the name of charity with the 
 poor, and they will reckon upon it, as on a debt ;" 
 truly it would be even so with the loving kindnesses 
 of the Lord, if they were always bestowed where 
 man at first desires them. There is nothing over 
 which the Lord is more jealous than his crown 
 his sovereignty his right to do as he will with his 
 own. How grateful should we be that he uses 
 such lenient and gentle means to preserve his dig 
 nity ; and that while he might, if he pleased, block 
 up the gates of salvation for ever, he doth only for 
 a moment cause them to be closed, that we may 
 sing the more loudly when we obtain an entrance 
 through, them. 
 
 3. A ministry devoid of gospel grace is a fre 
 quent cause of long delay in finding the Saviour. 
 Some of us in the days of our sorrow for sin were 
 compelled by circumstances to sit under a legal 
 
JESUS DESIKKD. 135 
 
 preacher who did but increase our pain, and aggra 
 vate our, woe. Destitute of all savour and unction, 
 but most of all wanting in a clear view of Jesus 
 the Mediator, the sermons we heard were wells 
 without water, and clouds without rain. Elegant 
 in diction, admirable in style, and faultless in com 
 position, they fell on our ears even as the beautiful 
 crystals of snow fall upon the surface of the brook, 
 and only tend to swell its floods. 4rood morality, 
 consistent practice, upright dealing, amiable be 
 haviour, gentle carriage, and modest deportment, 
 were the everyday themes of the pulpit ; but alas ! 
 they were of as little service to us as instructions 
 to dance would be to a man who has lost both his 
 legs. We have often been reminded by such 
 preachers, of the doctor who told a poor penniless 
 widow that her sick son could easily be cured if 
 she would give him the best wine, and remove him 
 at once to Baden-Baden the poor creature s 
 fingers staring all the while through the tips of her 
 worn-out gloves, as if they wished to see the man 
 who gave advice so profoundly impracticable. 
 
 Far be it from us to condemn the preaching of 
 morality by such men, for it is doubtless all they 
 can preach, and their intentions being good, it is 
 probable they may sometimes be of service in re 
 straining the community from acts of disorder ; but 
 we do deny the right of many to call themselves 
 Christian ministers, while they constantly and sys- 
 
136 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 tematically neglect to declare the truths which lie 
 at the very foundation of the Gospel. A respected 
 bishop of the Episcopalian denomination,* in ad 
 dressing the clergy of the last century, said, " We 
 have long been attempting to reform the nation by 
 moral preaching. With what effect ? None. On 
 the contrary, we have dexterously preached the 
 people into dawnright infidelity. We must change 
 our voice ; wemust preach Christ and him cruci 
 fied ; nothing but the Gospel is the power of God 
 unto salvation." We fear that in some measure 
 this is the case even now would that we dared to 
 hope otherwise ! Let such of us as are engaged in 
 the work of the ministry take heed to ourselves, 
 and to our doctrine, that w r e cause no needless pain, 
 and retard no man s progress to a Saviour ; and let 
 our reader look to his own soul s salvation, and 
 select his pastor, not for his eloquence, learning, 
 amiability, or popularity, but for his clear and con 
 stant testimony to the Gospel of Christ. The wit 
 ness of the pulpit must be incessantly evangelical, 
 nor is a single exception to be allowed. A vener 
 able divine justly writes, "Faithful preachers never 
 preach mere philosophy, nor mere metaphysics, nor 
 mere morality. "f How many poor souls may now 
 be in bondage by your lifeless preaching, O ye who 
 love anything better than the simple Gospel! What 
 
 * Bishop Lavington. -j- Emraons. 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 137 
 
 are ye but polished bolts on the dungeon- door of 
 the distressed, or well-dressed halberdiers, affright 
 ing men from the palace of mercy ? Ah ! it will be 
 well for some if they shall be able to wash their 
 hands of the blood of souls, for verily in the cells 
 of eternal condemnation there are heard no yells of 
 horror more appalling than the shrieks of damned 
 ministers. Oh, to have misled men to have 
 ruined their souls for ever ! 
 
 Happy suicide,* who by his own hand escapes 
 the sound of the curses of those he victimized! 
 happy in comparison with the man who will for 
 ever hear the accusing voices of the many who have 
 sunk to perdition through the rottenness of the 
 doctrine which he offered them for their support. 
 Here on our knees we fall, and pray for grace that 
 we may ever hold up Jesus to the sinner ; not doc 
 trine without Jesus, which is as the pole without 
 the brazen serpent, but Jesus a whole Jesus to 
 poor lost sinners. We are sure that many con 
 vinced souls have tarried long in the most distress 
 ing condition, simply because, by reason of the 
 poverty of their spiritual food, their weakness was 
 so great that the cry of Hezekiah was theirs u this 
 day is a day of trouble ; for the children are come 
 to the birth, and there is not strength to bring 
 forth."f May our glorified Jesus soon come into 
 
 * Mr. Sadleir. f Isa. xxxvii. 8. 
 
138 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 his Church, and raise up shepherds after his OWD 
 heart, who, endowed with the Holy Spirit, full of 
 sympathy, and burning with love, shall visit those 
 who are out of the way, and guide the wanderer 
 to the fold. Such men are still to be found. O 
 reader, search them out, sit at their feet, receive 
 their word, and be not disobedient to the com 
 mands which they utter from heaven. 
 
 4. Misapprehension of the nature of salvation, 
 in some cases, delays the happy hour of Christ s 
 appearance. A natural tendency to legal ideas 
 dims the mind to the perception of the doctrine 
 of Jesus, which is grace and truth. A secret de 
 sire to do something in part to aid Jesus, prevents 
 us from viewing him as " all our salvation, and all 
 our desire." Humbled though we have been by 
 the cutting down of all our righteousness, yet the 
 old root will sprout " at the scent of water it will 
 bud ;" and so long as it does so, there can be no 
 solid peace, no real cleaving to Christ. We must 
 learn to spell the words law and grace, without 
 mingling the letters. 
 
 While sick men take two kinds of medicine there 
 is little hope of a cure, especially if the two 
 draughts are compounded of opposing ingredients ; 
 the bird which lives on two trees, builds its nest 
 on neither ; and the soul halting between grace 
 and works can never find rest for the sole of its 
 foot. Perhaps, my reader, a secret and well-nigh 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 139 
 
 imperceptible self-trust is the very thing which, 
 shuts out Christ from thy soul. Search and look. 
 
 Not a few seekers are expecting some extraordi 
 nary sign and wonder ere they can. believe. They 
 imagine that conversion will come upon them in 
 some marvellous manner, like Mary s visitation by 
 the angel. ISTaaman-like, they are dreaming that 
 the prophet will strike his hand over the place, and 
 they shall recover. " Go wash in Jordan seven 
 times " has not enough mystery in it for their poor 
 minds : " Except they see signs and wonders they 
 will not believe." Let none, however, hope for 
 miracles ; wonders do occur : some are brought to 
 Jesus by vision and revelation, but far more are 
 drawn by the usual means of grace, in a manner 
 which is far removed from the marvellous. The 
 Lord is not in the whirlwind, the Lord is not in the 
 fire ; but usually he speaketh in the still small 
 voice. Surely it should be enough for us, if we 
 find pardon in the appointed method, without de 
 siring to have rare and curious experiences, with 
 which, in after years, we may gratify our own self- 
 love, and elevate ourselves as singular favourites 
 of heaven. Regeneration is indeed a supernatural 
 work, but it is usually a silent one. It is a pulling 
 down of strongholds, but the earth shakes not with 
 the fall ; it is the building of a temple, but there is 
 no sound of hammer at its erection ; like the sun 
 rise, it is not heralded by the blast of trumpet, nor 
 
140 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 
 
 do wonders hide beneath its wings. We know 
 who is the mother of mystery ; do we desire to be 
 Iier children ? Strange phantoms and marvellous 
 creatures find their dwelling-place in darkness; 
 light is not in relationship with mystery ; let none 
 be hoping to find it so. JBelieve and live is the 
 plan of the Gospel ; if men would but lay aside 
 their old ideas, they would soon find Jesus as their 
 very present help ; but because they look for un- 
 promised manifestations, they seek in vain, until 
 disappointment has taught them wisdom. 
 
 5. Although the seeking penitent hath renounced 
 all known sin, yet it may be that some sin of igno 
 rance yet remains unconfessed, and unrepented of, 
 which will frequently be a cause of great and grie 
 vous delay. 
 
 God, who searcheth Jerusalem with candles, 
 will have us examine ourselves most thoroughly. 
 He has issued a search-warrant to conviction, 
 which giveth that officer a right to enter every 
 room of oar house, and command every Rachel to 
 rise from her seat lest the images should be beneath 
 her. Sin is so skilful in deception, thai it is hard 
 to discover all its lurking places ; neither is it easy 
 to detect its character when brought before our 
 eyes, since it will often borrow the garb of virtue, 
 and appear as an angel of light ; nor should we our 
 selves use sufficient diligence in its destruction, if 
 the delay of the needed mercy did not urge us to a 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 141 
 
 more vigorous pursuit of the traitors whc have 
 brought us into grief. Our gracious Lord, for our 
 own sake, desires the execution of our secret sins, 
 and by his frowns he puts us upon the watch lest 
 we should indulge or harbour them. 
 
 Never, perhaps, shall we again possess so deep 
 a horror of sin as in that moment when we 
 well-nigh despaired of deliverance from it, and 
 therefore never shall we be so fully prepared 
 to exterminate it. Eternal wisdom will not al 
 low a season so propitious to pass without im 
 provement ; and having melted our heart in the 
 furnace till the scum floated on the surface, it doth 
 not allow it to cool until the dross hath been 
 removed. Look to thyself, O seeker, for peradven- 
 ture the cause of thy pain lieth in thine own heart. 
 How small a splinter prevents the healing of a 
 festered wound ; extract it, and the cure is easy. 
 Be wise; what thou doest do quickly, but do it 
 perfectly; thus shalt thou make sure work for 
 eternity, and speed the hour of thine acceptance. 
 Be sure sin will find thee out, unless thou dost find 
 it out. A warrior stimulated the valour of his 
 soldiers by simply pointing to the enemy and ex 
 claiming, " Lads, there they are, if you do not kill 
 them, they will kill you" Thus would we remind 
 thee, that sin will destroy thee if thou dost not 
 destroy it. Be concerned, then, to drive it from 
 thine heart. 
 
142 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJR. 
 
 6. Usefulness in after life is often increased by 
 the bitter experience with which the soul is exer 
 cised while seeking after Jesus; but as this has 
 already received our attention, we will close our 
 meditations on the reasons for protracted delay, 
 by the simple remark, that it is of far more impor 
 tance to a penitent to use every means for obtain 
 ing the Saviour s blessing, than to inquire into the 
 motives which have hitherto made him deaf to his 
 petitions. Earnestly do we entreat the mourner 
 to strive to enter in at the straight gate, and to 
 continue his cry " Oh that I knew where I might 
 find him !" 
 
 III. It is now our pleasant duty to direct the 
 troubled spirit to the means of obtaining speedy 
 and lasting peace. May the God who opened the 
 eyes of the desolate Hagar in the wilderness, and 
 guided her so that she saw a well of water whereat 
 she filled her empty bottle, use us as his finger to 
 point the thirsting, dying sinner to the place where 
 He stands, who once said, " If any man thirst, let 
 him come unto me and drink." Our rules shall be 
 expressed in simple words that the wayfaring 
 man, though a fool, may not err therein. 
 
 1. Go where 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 shouldst 
 thou sit but at the way-side, begging ? Hast thou 
 a sore disease where is there a place more fitting 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 143 
 
 for thee than the porch of Bethesda, where my 
 Lord doth walk ? Art thou palsied wilt thou not 
 desire to be in his presence, though on thy bed 
 thou be let down to the spot where he standeth ? 
 Did not Obadiah and Ahab journey through the 
 whole land of Israel to find Elijah? and wilt not 
 thou visit every place where there is hope of meet 
 ing Jesus ? Dost thou 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 up to the feast, and mingleth 
 with the worshippers in his temple? 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 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, that 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 doubt 
 ed, because he was not there when Jesus came. 
 
 Let sermons and prayers be thy delight, because 
 they are roads wherein the Saviour walketh. Let 
 
144 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 the righteous be thy constant company, for such ever 
 bring Him where they come. It is the least thing 
 thou canst do to stand where grace usually dispens- 
 eth its favor. Even the beggar writes his petition 
 on the flagstone of a frequented thoroughfare, be 
 cause he hopeth that among the many passers, some 
 few at least will give him charity ; learn from him 
 to offer 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 mayst 
 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 op 
 portunity. If the angel stir not the pool, yet lie 
 there still, for it may be the moment when thou 
 leavest 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 Simeon found the infant 
 Messiah in the Temple ; had he deserted its hal 
 lowed courts he might never have said, " Mine 
 eyes have seen thy salvation." Be sure to keep in 
 mercy s way. 
 
 2. Cry after Him. Thou hast been lying in his 
 path for many a day, but he has not turned his 
 eye .upon thee. What then ? Art thou content to 
 let him pass thee by ? Art thou willing to lose so 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 145 
 
 precious an opportunity ? No I thou desirest life, 
 and thou wilt not be ashamed to beg aloud for it : 
 thou wilt not fear to take him for an example of 
 whom it is written, " "When he heard that it was 
 Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, 
 Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me ! 
 And many charged him that he should hold his 
 peace ; but he cried the more a great deal, Thou 
 Son of David, have mercy on me !" It is an old 
 proverb, " We lose nothing by asking," and it is an 
 older promise, Ask and ye shall receive." Be not 
 afraid of crying too loudly. It is recorded, to the 
 honour of Mordecai, that he cried with a loud cry ; 
 and we know that the kingdom of heaven suffereth 
 violence. Think it not possible to pray too fre 
 quently, bat at morning, at noon, and at eventide, 
 lift up thy soul unto God. Let not despondency stop 
 the voice of thy supplication, for fie 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 importu 
 nate widow, be thou always at the heels of the 
 great One ; give not up because the past has proved 
 apparently fruitless, remember Jericho stood firm 
 for six days, but yet when they gave an exceeding 
 great shout, it fell flat to the ground. u 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 
 
 7 
 
146 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 river day and night : give thyself no rest ; let not 
 the apple of thine eye cease." * Let groans, and 
 sighs, and vows keep up perpetual assault at hea 
 ven s doors. 
 
 " Groans fresh d with vows, and vows made salt with tears ; 
 Unscale his eyes, and scale his conquered ears : 
 Shoot up the bosom-shafts of thy desire, 
 Feather d with faith, and double-fork cl with fire ; 
 And they will hit: fear not, where Heaven bide come, 
 HeavVs never deaf, but when man s heart is dumb." 
 
 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 seeks 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 
 
 * Lam. ii .8, 19. 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 14:7 
 
 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 onward 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 find 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 promises, which are the garments of 
 Christ, will avail for all diseases. We all know 
 that the key of promise will unfasten 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 con 
 stant in reading the word and meditation thereon. 
 Amid the fair flowers of promise groweth the rose 
 of Sharon pluck the promises, and thou mayest 
 find Him with them. He feedeth among 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, 
 
14:8 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 but to the very heart of Jesus. Look aloft to the 
 sky of Revelation, and thou wilt yet find a constel 
 lation 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 person and his work. If we 
 were better acquainted with Jesus, we should find 
 it more easy to believe him. Many souls mourn 
 because they cannot make themselves believe ; and 
 the constant exhortations 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 remember that the 
 mind is not to be compelled to belief by exhorta 
 tion or force of will ; a small acquaintance with the 
 elements of mental science would suffice to show 
 them that faith is a result of previous states of the 
 mind, and flows 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 of 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 evidence ; we ask, 
 " What are we to believe ?" we need instruction 
 on the matter before we can lay hold upon it. In 
 spiritual things especially we need to know what 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 149 
 
 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, unless we are told 
 the grounds on which our faith must rest. Some 
 men endeavour to preach sinners to Christ / we 
 prefer to preach Cfirist to sinners. We believe 
 that a faithful exhibition of Jesus crucified will, 
 under the Divine blessing, beget faith in hearts 
 where fiery oratory and vehement declamation 
 have failed. Let this be borne in mind by those 
 who are bewailing themselves, in the words of 
 John Newton : 
 
 " Oh, could but I believe, 
 Then all would easy be ; 
 I would, but cannot Lord, relieve I 
 My help must come from thee." 
 
 Thou wilt not long have need to pray in this fash 
 ion if thou canst obey the rule we would put before 
 thee, which is, meditate on Jesus ; reflect upon the 
 mystery of his incarnation and redemption ; and 
 frequently picture the agonies of Gethsemane and 
 Calvary. The cross not only demands faith, but 
 causes it. The same Christ who requires faith for 
 salvation doth infuse faith into all those who do 
 meekly and reverently meditate upon his sacrifice 
 and mediation. We learn to believe in an honest 
 man by an acquaintance with him, even so (although 
 faith be the gift of God, yet he giveth it in the use 
 
150 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 of the means) it cometli to pass that by frequent 
 consideration of Jesus, we know him, and therefore 
 trust in him. Go thou to the gloomy brook of Ke- 
 dron, make Gethsemane thy garden of retirement, 
 tread the blood-stained Gabbatha, climb the hill 
 of Calvary, sit at the foot of the accursed tree, 
 watch the victim in his agonies, listen to his groans, 
 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 Arimathea, behold him 
 rise, witness his ascension, and view him exalted 
 far above principalities and powers, as the mediator 
 for sinful men : thus shalt thou see 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 shalt believe inevitably, find 
 ing it impossible longer to be incredulous. A true 
 view of Calvary will smite unbelief with death, and 
 put faith into its place. Spend hours in holy re 
 tirement, 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 fol- 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 151 
 
 low 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 sub 
 mitted to. Next thou art called upon to cast thy 
 self entirely on him, prostrating thyself before his 
 cross, content to rely wholly on Sim. Do this, and 
 thou art saved, refuse and thou art damned. Sub 
 scribe thy name to this simple rhyme 
 
 " I m a poor sinner, and nothing at all, 
 But Jesus Christ is my all in all ;" 
 
 and, doing this, thou art secure of heaven. 
 
 Dost thou delay because 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 flat upon 
 his gracious declaration, and thou shalt be em 
 braced by his mercy. To believe is to take Jesus 
 at his word, and when all things dery 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 guardianship. In this way alone shalt thou 
 obtain peace and ete nal life. 
 
 May the Directing Spirit lead us each to Him in 
 whom there is light, and whose light is the life of 
 men. 
 
TO THE UNCONVEKTED KEADEB. 
 
 FRIEND Love to thy soul constrains us 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 remember 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. 
 
 O 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 are uneasy to thyself. Thy con 
 science, 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 wicke 1 forsake his way, and the unrighteous 
 
 153 
 
JESUS DESIRED. 153 
 
 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 thy life will be prolonged to an in 
 definite 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-mor 
 row may never 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 
 
 the prudent. 
 Cherish thy to-day, and prize it well, or ever it be engulphed 
 
 in the past ; 
 Husband it, for who can promise if it shall have a to-morrow."* 
 
 " To-morrow is a fatal lie the wrecker s beacon 
 w.ily snare of the destroyer ;" be wise, and see to 
 thy ways while time waits for thee. 
 
 Consider next thy position. A condemned crim 
 inal waiting for execution ; a tree, at the root of 
 which 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 
 of carlessness, and move the iron knees of profanity 
 
 * Tupper s Proverbial Philosophy. 
 
 7* 
 
154: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 A man asleep in a burning house, or with his neck 
 upon the block of the headsman, or laying before 
 the mouth of a cannon, is not in a more dangerous 
 case than thou art. Oh bethink thee, ere desola 
 tion, destruction and damnation, seal up thy des 
 tiny, and stamp thee with despair ! 
 
 Be sure, also, that thou consider thy latter end, 
 for it is thine whether thou consider it or no. Thou 
 art ripening for hell ; oh, how wilt thou endure its 
 torments ! 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 ex 
 amine 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 back a dismal story, it may induce thee to 
 change thy mind, and tread another path ! Thou 
 wilt lose nothing 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 ! 
 
IV. 
 
 JESUS PARDONING. 
 
 " The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin." 
 1 JOHN i. 7. 
 
 " I will praise thee every day, 
 Now thine anger s turn d away : 
 Comfortable thoughts arise 
 From the bleeding sacrifice. 
 Jesus is become at length, 
 My salvation and my strength ; 
 And his praises shall prolong, 
 While I live, my pleasant song." 
 
 LET our lips crowd sonnets within the compass 
 of a word ; let our voice distil hours of melody in 
 to a single syllable ; let our tongue utter in one 
 letter the essence of the harmony of ages : for we 
 write of an hour which as far excelleth all the days 
 of our life as gold exceedeth dross. As the night 
 of Israel s passover was a night to be remembered, 
 a theme for bards, and an incessant fountain of 
 
 156 
 
156 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 grateful song, even so is the time of which we 
 now speak, the never-to-be-forgotten hour of our 
 emancipation from guilt, and of our justification 
 in Jesus. 
 
 Other days have mingled with their fellows till, 
 like coins worn in circulation, their image and su 
 perscription are entirely obliterated ; but this day 
 rernaineth new, fresh, bright, as distinct in all its 
 parts as if it were but yesterday struck from the 
 mint of time. Memory shall drop from her palsied 
 hand full many a memento which now she che 
 rishes, but she shall never, even when she tottereth 
 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 pardoned traitor may fail to re 
 member the moment when the axe of the heads 
 man was averted by a pardon; and the long-des 
 pairing mariner may not recollect the moment 
 when a friendly hand snatched him from the 
 hungry deep : but O hour of forgiven sin ! mo 
 ment of perfect pardon ! our soul shall never for 
 get 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 Mahanahn, 
 hosts of angels met us. The sun hath risen every 
 morning, but on that eventful morn he had the 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 157 
 
 light of seven days. As the days of heaven upon 
 earth as the years of immortality as the ages of 
 glory as the bliss of heaven, so were the hours 
 of that thrice-happy day. Rapture divine, and 
 ecstasy inexpressible, filled our soul. Fear, dis 
 tress, and grief, with all their train of woes, fled 
 hastily away ; and in their place joys came with 
 out 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, my 
 fair one, and come away. : Our buried powers, 
 upspringing from the dark earth, where corruption 
 had buried them, budded, blossomed, and brought 
 forth clusters of fruit. Our soul was all awake to 
 gladness ; conscience sang approval ; judgment 
 joyfully attested the validity of the acquittal ; 
 hope painted bright visions for the future ; while 
 imagination knew no bounds to the eagle-flight of 
 her loosened wing. The city of Mansoul had a 
 
158 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUU. 
 
 grand illumination, and even its obscurest lanes 
 and alleys were hung with lamps of brilliance. 
 The bells of our soul rang merry peals, music and 
 dancing filled every chamber, and every room 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 finite 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, re 
 membering 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, transformed to richest pearl ;" 
 
 the breath we spent in sighs returned upon us la 
 den with fragrance ; the past, the present, the fu 
 ture, 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 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 159 
 
 spirit, became the active partner of our bliss. Our 
 eyes were windows lighted up with happiness ; our 
 feet were young roes bounding with pleasure ; our 
 lips were fountains gushing with song, and our ears 
 were the seats of minstrels. It was hard to contain 
 our rapture within the narrow bounds of prudence. 
 Like the insects leaping in the sunshine, 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 fee 
 ble, our bliss renewed our strength. Each broken 
 bone praised Him ; each strained sinew blessed 
 Him ; our whole flesh 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 knew no thought beyond, 
 no hope above, the perfect satisfaction of that hour ; 
 for Christ and his salvation had filled us to the very 
 brim. 
 
 All nature appeared to sympathize with us. We 
 went forth with joy, and were led forth with peace ; 
 the mountains and the hills broke forth before us into 
 singing, and all the trees of the field clapped their 
 hands. The fields, the floods, 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 floods 
 of harm )ny. 
 
160 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 Perhaps our birthday found the earth wrapped 
 in the robes of winter, but its snowy whiteness was 
 all in keeping with the holiday of our spirit. Each 
 snow-flake renewed the assurance of our pardon, 
 for * we were now washed whiter than snow. The 
 burial of the earth in its winding-sheet of white be 
 tokened to us the covering of our sins by the right 
 eousness of Jesus. The trees, festooned 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 the west. Sure, never was winter 
 less wintery than then, for in a nobler sense than 
 the poet* we can affirm 
 
 " With frequent foot, 
 
 Pleas d have I, in my cheerful morn of life, 
 Trod the pure snows, myself as pure." 
 
 Grace enabled us to find a song where others did 
 but murmur. 
 
 It may be we were brought to love the glorious 
 Redeemer in the spring-time of the year ; and if so, 
 our quickened spirit found all around it the coun 
 ter part of the world within. "We, too, like the lit 
 tle flowers, were rising from our tombs ; like the 
 sweet birds, expecting brighter days, we sung the 
 songs of promise; like the rippling brooks, un- 
 
 * Thompson. 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 161 
 
 bound from our captivity, we leaped in hasty joy ; 
 and like the woodlands, we were " prodigal of har 
 mony." The mountains, lifting their green heads 
 to the sky, we charged to tell our Maker how we 
 desired to approach his footstool ; and the valleys, 
 bleating with the flocks, were bidden to commend 
 us to the notice of the great Shepherd of the sheep. 
 The falling rains we thanked as emblems of him 
 who cometh down "like rain upon the mown 
 grass ;" and the smiling sun we owned as a type of 
 his great Lord, who bringeth healing beneath his 
 wings. 
 
 " We walk d 
 
 The sunny glade, and felt an inward bliss 
 Beyond the power of kings to purchase." 
 
 Aye, and beyond the power of kings to guess if 
 they, too, had not felt the same. As the portals of 
 earth were opening for the coming of the summer, 
 so were we preparing for glorious days of happiness 
 and fruitfulness. Everything in creation was in 
 keeping with our condition, as if nature was but a 
 dress made by a skilful hand, fitting our new-born 
 soul in every part. We were supremely blest. 
 Our heart was like a bell dancing at bridal joys, 
 and the world was full of bells chiming with it. 
 "We were glad, and nature cried, " Child, lend me 
 thine hand, and we will dance together, for I too 
 am at ease since my great Lord hath loosed me 
 
162 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 from my wintry fetters ; come on, favoured one, 
 and wander where thou wilt, for 
 
 " The soft ning air is balm ; 
 Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; 
 And every sense, and every heart is joy. 
 
 Come on, then, and sport with me on this our mu 
 tual feast." 
 
 If in summer we brought forth fruits meet for 
 repentance, and were planted in the garden of the 
 Lord, the soil on which we trod was prolific of 
 emblems of our own condition, and of creatures 
 sympathising with our joy ; and the sky which 
 canopied our dwelling-place was woven like a 
 tapestry with praises of our Lord. "When the rain 
 bow bridged the sky, we hailed it as the sign of 
 the eternal covenant made with us by Him who 
 keepeth truth to all generations ; if the steaming 
 river sent its exhalation to the clouds, we put our 
 song upon its altar that it might ascend with it ; if 
 the dewdrops sparkled on the breast of morn, " the 
 dew of our youth " rejoiced at their kindred beauty ; 
 or if the soft winds breathed odours, we bade them 
 receive another burden, while we perfumed them 
 with the name of Jesus. Whether we walked the 
 sea-side, and thought the waves washed blessings 
 to our feet, or found beneath the high rock a grate 
 ful shelter from the heat, or drank the stream 
 whose waters were sweeter to our taste than e er 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 163 
 
 before, we were by every object drawn upward 
 evermore to contemplate the Lord our Redeemer, 
 who in every scene of nature was set forth in 
 miniature. All summers had been winters com 
 pared with this ; for now we had flowers in our 
 heart, a sun in our soul, fruits in our spirit, songs 
 in our thoughts, and joy and heat in our affections. 
 Till then we never knew the glory of this mighty 
 world, because we did not know it to be our 
 Father s and our own ; but then we looked from 
 the hill-top on the wide-spread scene with the eyes 
 of a young heir just come to his estate, or a fresh- 
 crowned monarch whose fair dominions stretch 
 beneath his feet far as the eye can see. Then we 
 felt, in fact, what we had only heard in poetry, the 
 noble birthright of a regenerated man 
 
 " His are the mountains, and the valleys his ; 
 And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy, 
 With a propriety that none can feel ; 
 But who, with filial confidence inspir d, 
 Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 
 And smiling say, My Father made them all. 
 Are they not his by a peculiar right, 
 And by an emphasis of interest his, 
 Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, 
 Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind 
 With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love, 
 That plann d, and built, and still upholds, a world 
 So cloth d with beauty for rebellious man ?" 
 
 O happy spirit ! tuned aright to unison with a fair 
 
164 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 earth, man s first inheritance, lost till by grace 
 again we call it ours, and know it to be beautiful. 
 Words fail to describe the Divine rapture of the 
 spirit ; and however well a poet may paint nature 
 as he sees it, yet though he succeed to his own 
 satisfaction, the new-born child of God, whose 
 feelings are richer even than the wealth of poesy, 
 will feel that he hath but poorly pencilled what his 
 now enlightened eye beholds with raptures of 
 delight. This world is a great music-box, and he 
 who hath the key can set it playing, while others 
 with open mouth are wondering whence the song 
 proceedeth. Nature is a colossal organ, and the 
 frail fingers of man may move its keys to thunders 
 of music ; but the organist is usually unseen, and 
 the world knows not how such majestic sounds are 
 begotten. Summer is earth in court-dress ; and 
 if the heart be so, it will know to what court sum 
 mer belongeth, and will call him friend. 
 
 Need we reiterate our joys by laying autumn 
 also under contribution ? Truly, if then we found 
 our Lord, the ripened fruit did taste more lusciously 
 than ever. The yellow suit in which the year 
 was clad shone in our eyes like burnished gold. 
 Even as old Autumn 
 
 " Joy d in his plenteous store, 
 Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad 
 That he had banish d hunger," 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 165 
 
 so did we rejoice that our hunger aud thirst were 
 satisfied with ripe fruit from the tree of life. The 
 harvest-home echoed to our heart s glad shouts, 
 and the vintage songs kept tune with our loud re 
 joicings. 
 
 All seasons of the year are alike beautiful to 
 those who know how to track the Creator s foot 
 steps along the road of providence, or who have 
 found a token of his grace, and therefore bless the 
 hour in which it came. There is neither stick nor 
 stone, nor insect, nor reptile, which will not teach 
 us praise when the soul is in such a state as that 
 whereof we now are musing : 
 
 " There s music in the sighing of a reed ; 
 There s music in the gushing of a rill ; 
 There s music in all things, if men had ears ; 
 Their earth is but an echo of the spheres." * 
 
 The one pardoning word of the Lord of all abso 
 lution hath put music into all things, even as the 
 trump of the archangel shall breathe life into the 
 dead. Those drops of atoning blood have put fair 
 colours upon all creation, even as the sunrise paints 
 the earth, which else had been one huge blot of 
 darkness. 
 
 How doubly dear do all our mercies become at 
 the moment when Christ shines on us ! the bread 
 of our table is well nigh as holy as the bread of the 
 
 * Byron. 
 
166 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 Eucharist ; the wine we drink tastes as sacred aft 
 that of His consecrated cup ; each meal is a sacra 
 ment, each sleep hath its Jacob s vision ; our 
 clothes are vestments, and our house a temple. 
 We may be sons of poverty, but when Jesus comes, 
 for that day, at least, he strews our floor with sand 
 of gold, and plants upon the roof hard-by the 
 ancient house-leek, flowers of sweet contentment, 
 of which heaven need not be ashamed. We are 
 made so happy in our low estate at that transport 
 ing word of grace which gives us liberty, that we 
 do not envy princes their crowns, nor would their 
 wealth tempt us from the happy spot where our 
 Lord deigns to give us his company. 
 
 Oh that blest day ! again our memory rushes 
 back to it, and rapture glows even at its mention. 
 Many days have passed since then ; but as the one 
 draught of sweet water refreshes the camel over 
 many a mile of desert, so doth that happy hour 
 still cheer us as we remember it. Beginning of 
 the days of heaven ! Firstborn of morning ! Pro 
 phet of blessings ! Funeral of fears ! Birthday of 
 hope ! Day of our spirit s betrothal ! Day of God 
 and day of mercy ! oh that we had power to sing 
 the joy which kindles our passions to a flame w r hile 
 we review thee ! or rather, oh that we had grace 
 to hymn His praise who made thee such a day ! 
 Doth the stranger inquire, What hath so distin 
 guished that day above its fellows ? the answer is 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 167 
 
 already knocking at the door of our lips to obtain 
 an egress. We were released from the thraldom 
 of sin, we were delivered from the scourges of con 
 science, we were ransomed from the bondage of 
 law, we were emancipated from the slavery of cor 
 ruption ; death vanished before the quickening of 
 the Holy Ghost, poverty was made rich with infinite 
 treasures of grace, and hunger felt itself satisfied 
 with good things. Naked before, we on that day 
 put on the robes of princes ; black, we washed our 
 selves clean in a bath of blood ; sick, we received 
 instant healing ; despairing, we rejoiced with joy 
 unspeakable. Ask her who has had the issue of 
 her blood stanched by a touch ; ask yon healed 
 demoniac, or his companion who throws away the 
 crutch of his long halting, why on that day of re 
 covery they were glad ; and they will exhibit their 
 own persons as reasons for their joy : so, O wonder 
 ing gazer, look on us and solve the mystery of our 
 enthusiastic song. We ourselves are our own 
 answer to your inquiries. 
 
 Let us summon memory again to lead the choir, 
 while all that is within us doth bless His holy 
 name. "He spake and it was done;" "He said, 
 Let there be light, and there was light." He 
 passed by, in the greatness of his love and in the 
 plenitude of his power, and bade us live. O eyes 
 of beauty, how were ye outdone by his sweet 
 looks ! He was fairer than the sons of men, and 
 
168 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 lovelier than a dream when he manifested himself 
 unto us. Lying by the pool of mercy, we pined 
 away with disappointment, for none would put us 
 into the healing water; but his love stayed not 
 for an instant, he said, "Take up thy bed and walk." 
 Ah, where shall thunders be found which will lend 
 us voices ? where floods which can lend us uplifted 
 hands ? for we need these to utter half His praise. 
 Angels, your sonnets and your golden canticles 
 are poor, poor things for our sweet Lord Jesus. 
 He deserve th notes which your voices cannot 
 afford, and music which dwells not within the 
 strings of your most melodious harps. He must be 
 his own poet, for none but he can sing himself. 
 He, knows, and only he, that depth of love within 
 his bleeding heart, some drops of which we drank 
 on that auspicious morning of redemption. He 
 can tell, and only he, the transporting sound of 
 that sweet assurance which laid our fears to rest 
 in his own sepulchre. He alone can testify what 
 he hath wrought ; for, as for us, we were asleep 
 on the mount of joy ; "when God turned back the 
 captivity ofZion, we were like men that dreamed; 
 our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue 
 with singing."* He, our Light, did light a candle 
 around us ; our " conversation was in heaven ;" 
 our soul made us like the chariots of Amminadib ; 
 
 * Ps. cxxvi. 1, 2. 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 169 
 
 " Our rapture seem d a pleasing dream, 
 The grace appeared so great." 
 
 "We cried out in wonder, love, and praise, 
 " Whence is this to me ? * and what am I, and 
 what is my Father s house, that the Lord hath 
 visited me, and brought me hitherto." f Our dark 
 and loathsome prison still made our garments to 
 smell of its mouldiness, and this quickened our 
 gratitude for our deliverance. Like Jonah, fresh 
 from the whale s belly, we were willing enough 
 for service of any kind ; all too glad to have come 
 up alive from "the bottoms of the mountains," 
 where we feared that "the earth with her bars 
 was about us for ever." Never did lark spring 
 from his cage door to the sky with half such speed 
 as that which we made when we obtained our 
 liberty from the iron bondage ; no young roe e er 
 bounded so nimbly over the hills as did our hearts 
 when they were " like hinds let loose." We could 
 almost re-tread the steps of our pilgrimage to sing 
 once more that song of triumph over a host of sins 
 buried in the sea of forgetfulness, or drink again 
 of the wells of Eliui, or sit beneath those seventy 
 palm-trees. 
 
 Dear spot of ground where Jesus met us ! dear 
 hour which brought us to his feet ! and precious, 
 lips of Jesus, which spoke us free ! That hour 
 
 * Luke i. 43. f 2 Sam. vii. 18. 
 
170 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 shall lead the song, and every hour shall join the 
 chorus of " UNTO HIM THAT LOVED us, AND WASHED 
 US FROM OUR SINS IN HIS OWN BLOOD, AND HATH 
 MADE US KINGS AND PRIESTS UNTO GOD AND HIS 
 FATHER. TO HIM BE GLORY AND DOMINION FOR EVER. 
 AMEN." 
 
 Hath it been in our power to have handled the 
 poet s style and measure, we might more fully 
 have expressed our emotions ; but if our pen be 
 not that of a ready writer, at least our heart is 
 inditing a good matter. We close by an interest 
 ing account of conversion, illustrating its intense 
 darkness, and its succeeding unspeakable light. 
 It is an extract from that valuable and interesting 
 biography, entitled, Struggles for Life. After 
 hearing a powerful sermon, he goes home much 
 impressed : " I spoke to no one, and did not dare 
 to lift my eyes from my feet, as I expected the 
 earth to open and swallow me. The commotion 
 of my soul was altogether such as language cannot 
 describe. I crept to my room, locked the door, 
 and fell upon my knees ; but no words came. I 
 could not pray. The perspiration was oozing from 
 every pore. How long I lay on my knees I know 
 not; happily, this fearful agony of mind did not 
 last long, or I should have died. Some hours 
 elapsed hours like ages ; in which I felt myself 
 before the throne of righteous judgment, and whilo 
 the process was going on I was dumb. Had the 
 
JESUS PARDONING. 171 
 
 salvation of my soul depended upon a word, I 
 could not have uttered it. But he who had smit 
 ten, graciously healed. As if they had been 
 slowly unfolded before me, there appeared these 
 never-to-be-forgotten words: THE BLOOD OF JESUS 
 CHRIST CLEANSETH us FROM ALL SIN. 
 
 " I had read and heard these wonderful words 
 often, but now they appeared new to me. I gazed, 
 believed, loved, and embraced them. The crisis 
 was past. A flood of tears rushed from my eyes ; 
 my tongue was set at liberty. I prayed, and per 
 haps it w^as the first time in my life that I really 
 did pray. 
 
 " For three days after this I was filled with inde 
 scribable joy. I thought I saw heaven, with its 
 blessed inhabitants, and its glorious king. I thought 
 he was looking on me with unutterable compassion, 
 and that I recognised Him as Jesus, my Saviour, 
 who had laid me under eternal obligation. The 
 world and all its concerns, appeared utterly worth 
 less. The conduct of ungodly men filled me with 
 grief and pity. I saw everything in an entirely 
 new light : a strong desire to fly to heathen lands, 
 that I might preach the good news to idolaters, 
 filled my heart. I longed to speak about the grand 
 discovery I had made, and felt assured that I had 
 but to open my lips to convince every one of -the 
 infinite grace of Christ, and the infinite value of 
 salvation. And I thought my troubles over, and 
 
172 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 that, henceforth, the same scenes of joy and hal 
 lowed peace were to pass before my eyes, and 
 fill my heart." 
 
 Such feelings are not the lot of all to the same 
 degree ; but an exceedingly large proportion of the 
 Lord s redeemed will recognise this experience as 
 " the path of the just ;" and some who read will re 
 joice to see here a fair copy of their inner life at 
 this very moment. 
 
 May the God of all grace bring each of us to this 
 fair land of Beulah, this palace of delights, this 
 chamber of bliss. Amen. 
 
TO THE UNCONYEETED KEADEE. 
 
 FRIEND Thou art amazed at this, for it sounds 
 like a wild legend or fairy tale. Thou knowest no 
 thing of such joy; this is a spring from which thou 
 hast never drawn living water. How much dost 
 thou lose by thine impenitence, and how poor are 
 the things which recompense thy loss ! What are 
 thy delights but bubbles ? what thy pleasure but 
 sweet poisons ? and what thy most substantial bliss 
 but a deceptive, illusive vision of the night ? Oh 
 that thou wert able to judge between genuine and 
 counterfeit, real and fictitious ! Sure one grain of 
 right reason would teach thee the superiority of 
 spiritual joys to mere carnal excitements. Thou art 
 not so far bereft of judgment as to put any one of 
 thine high carnival days in competition with the 
 time of pardoned sin. Thou wilt not venture to 
 compare thy sweetest wine with that wine of hea 
 ven which flows into the lips of the sinner who is 
 forgiven ; nor wilt thou bring thy music into 
 
 178 
 
174: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 rivalry with that which welcomes the returning 
 prodigal. Answer these two questions, we beseech 
 thee, "What doth it profit thee to sin against God ? 
 and, What shall it profit thee, at last, if thou 
 shouldst gain the whole world and lose thine own 
 soul ? Will a few carnal merriments repay thee 
 for unnumbered woes? Will transient sunlight 
 make amends for everlasting darkness? Will 
 wealth, or honour, or ambition, or lust, furnish thee 
 with an easy pillow when thou shalt make thy bed 
 in hell ? In hell thou shalt be if thou hast not 
 Christ. Oh! remember God is just; and, because 
 he will be just, PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD ! 
 
V. 
 
 JOY AT CONVERSION. 
 
 " The Lord hath done great things for us ; whereof we a: gkd." 
 Ps. cxxvi. 3. 
 
 love, thou bottomless abyss ! 
 My sins are swallowed up in thee ; 
 Covered is my unrighteousness, 
 Nor spot of guilt remains on me ; 
 While Jesus blood, through earth and skies, 
 Mercy, free, boundless mercy cries. 
 With faith I plunge me in this sea ; 
 Here is my hope, my joy, my rest; 
 Hither when hell assails I flee ; 
 I look into my Saviour s breast ; 
 Away, sad doubt, and anxious fear I 
 Mercy is all that s written there. 
 Fixed on this ground will I remain, 
 Though my heart fail, and flesh decay ; 
 This anchor shall my soul sustain, 
 When earth s foundations melt away, 
 Mercy s full power I then shall prove, 
 Loved with an everlasting love." 
 
 175 
 
176 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 HE who dares to prescribe one uniform standard 
 of experience for the children of God, is either 
 grievously ignorant or hopelessly full of self-esteem. 
 Facts teach us that in the highway to heaven there 
 are many paths, not all equally near to the middle 
 of the road, but nevertheless trodden by the feet of 
 real pilgrims. Uniformity is not God s rule ; in 
 grace as well as providence he delights to display 
 the most charming variety. In the matter of con 
 version this holds good of its attendant rejoicing, 
 for all do not alike sing aloud the same rapturous 
 song. All are glad, but all are not alike so. One 
 is quiet, another excitable ; one is constitutionally 
 cheerful, another is inclined to melancholy : these 
 will necessarily feel different degrees of spiritual 
 ecstasy, and will have their own peculiar modes of 
 expressing their sense of peace with God. 
 
 It is true, God usually displays unto the newly 
 regenerate much of the riches of his grace ; but 
 there are many who must be content to wait for 
 this till a future period. Though he dearly loves 
 every penitent soul, yet he does not always mani 
 fest that love. God is a free agent to work where 
 he will and when he will, and to reveal his love 
 even to his own elect in his own chosen seasons. 
 One of the best of the Puritans hath wisely written, 
 " God oftentimes works grace in a silent and secret 
 way, and takes sometimes five, sometimes ten, 
 sometimes twenty years yea, sometimes more 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 177 
 
 before he will make a clear and satisfying report 
 of his own work upon the soul. It is one thing for 
 God to work a work of grace upon the soul, and 
 another thing for God to show the soul that work. 
 Though our graces are our best jewels, yet they 
 are sometimes at first conversion so weak and im 
 perfect that we are not able to see their lustre." 
 All rules have exceptions; so we find there are 
 some who do not rejoice with this joy of harvest, 
 which many of us have the privilege of remem 
 bering. 
 
 Let none conceive, therefore, that we think our 
 book to be an infallible map from which none will 
 differ ; on the contrary, we shall feel happy if it 
 shall suit the experience of even a few, and shall 
 break the chains of any who are enslaved by the 
 system of spiritual standards set up by certain men 
 against whom it enters its earnest protest. Like 
 the tyrant Procrustes, some classes of religionists 
 measure all men by themselves, and insist that an 
 inch of divergence from their own views must 
 entail upon us present and eternal severance from 
 those whom they delight to speak of as the peculiar 
 people, who through much tribulation must enter 
 the kingdom of heaven. Thus much by way of 
 caution ; we now proceed. 
 
 The style of our last chapter scarcely allowed us 
 to ask the question, Whence this happiness ? or if 
 it suggested itself, we were too much in haste to 
 
178 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 express our gladness to reply to the inquiry. We 
 will now, however, sit down coolly and calmly to 
 review the causes of that exceeding great joy ; and, 
 if possible, to discover God s design in affording us 
 such a season of refreshing. Those who are now 
 mourning the loss of the peaceful hours, sweet still 
 to their memory, may perhaps be cheered by the 
 Ebenezers then erected, and by them may be guided 
 again to the Delectable Mountains. Great Light 
 of the soul, illuminate us each while meditating on 
 thy former mercies ! 
 
 I. We shall discuss the causes of the happiness 
 which usually attends a sense of pardon. The 
 study of experience is one far more calculated to 
 excite our admiration of the wisdom, love, aud 
 power of God than the most profound researches 
 which contemplate only the wonders of nature and 
 art. It is to be regretted that master-minds have 
 not arisen who could reduce a science so eminently 
 practical and useful into "some kind of order, and 
 render it as rich in its literature as the science of 
 medicine or the study of mind. An exceedingly 
 valuable volume might be written as a book of 
 spiritual family medicine for the people of God, 
 describing each of the diseases to which the saint 
 is subject, with its cause, symptoms, and cure ; and 
 enumerating the stages of the growth of the healthy 
 believer. Such a compilation would be exceed- 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION". 179 
 
 ingly interesting, and its value could scarcely be 
 estimated. In the absence of such a guide, let us 
 continue our musings by the help of such little ex 
 perience as we may have acquired. 
 
 1. Among the many things which contribute to 
 the ravishing sweetness of our first spiritual -joy, 
 we must mention the case wherein it found us. "We 
 were condemned by God and by our conscience, 
 and harassed by fears of the immediate execution 
 of the wrath of God upon us. We were exercised, 
 both day and night, by sorrows for the past and 
 forebodings of the future ; impending destruction 
 prevented sleep, and the sense of guilt made life a 
 burden. " When," says one, " the usual labours 
 of the day required that I should sleep, and my 
 body, toiled and wasted with the disquiet of my 
 mind, made me heavy, and urged it more, yet I 
 was afraid to close my eyes lest I should awaken in 
 hell ; and durst not let myself sleep till I was by a 
 weary body beguiled into it, lest I should drop into 
 the pit before I was aware. Was it any wonder 
 then that the news of pardon and forgiveness was 
 sweet to one in such a case whereby I was made 
 to lie down in safety, and take quiet rest, while 
 there was none to make me afraid ? For so He 
 giveth his beloved sleep. " * It is but natural that 
 rest should be exceeding sweet after such a period 
 
 * Halyburton. 
 
180 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 of disquietude. We expect that the sailor will ex 
 hibit his joy in no ordinary manner when, at last, 
 after a weary and tempestuous voyage, he puts his 
 foot upon his native shore. We did not wonder 
 when we heard of festivities in the islands of the 
 West among the slaves who were declared free for 
 ever. We do not marvel at the shouts of soldiers 
 who have escaped the hundred hands of death in 
 the day of battle. Shall we then make it a matter 
 of surprise when we behold justified men exulting 
 in their liberty in Jesus, and their escape from fear 
 ful perdition ? We think it but in the ordinary 
 course of things that when, like the Psalmist, we 
 have received answers to our prayers, we should 
 also sing like him, " Come and hear, all ye that fear 
 God, and I will declare what he hath done for my 
 soul. I cried unto him with my mouth, and he 
 was extolled with my tongue. I will go into thy 
 house with burnt-offerings : I will pay thee my 
 vows, which my lips have uttered, and my mouth 
 hath spoken when I was in trouble. Thou hast 
 turned for me my mourning into dancing : thou 
 hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with 
 gladness, to the end that my glory may sing praise 
 to thee, and not be silent. O Lord my God, I 
 will give thanks unto thee for ever." Men put 
 dark colours into the picture to make the lights 
 more apparent ; and God useth our black griefs to 
 heighten the brightness of his mercies. The weep- 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 181 
 
 ing of penitence is the sowing of jewels of joy. 
 The poet* sang in another sense that which we 
 may well quote here 
 
 " And precious their tears as that rain from the sky,f 
 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 floateth on its 
 seas the cedars for the pillars of the beautiful 
 house. To appreciate mercies we must feel miser 
 ies ; 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 swiftly, dancing to 
 the song : we must be glad when our bondage is 
 yet so fresh in our 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. Shushan was 
 glad, and rest was in the city, when the Jews had 
 clean escaped from the wiles of Haman. No Pu- 
 rim was ever kept more joyously than that first 
 one when the gallows were still standing, and the 
 sons of the evil counsellor yet unburied. We may 
 mourn through much of the long pilgrimage to 
 heaven, but the first day is dedicated to feasting, 
 
 * Moore. 
 
 \ " The Nisan, or drops of spring-rain which the Easterns be 
 lieve to produce pearls if they fall into shells." Richardson. 
 
182 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 because yesterday was spent in bondage. Were we 
 always mindful of the place from whence we came 
 out, perhaps we should be always rejoicing. 
 
 2. There is given unto us at this period a pecu 
 liar outpouring of grace not always enjoyed in after 
 days. The heart is broken it needs soft lini 
 ments 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 cor 
 dial ; it is weak it is therefore carried in the bo 
 som 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 of 
 tender love. The young plant receives double 
 attention from the careful gardener ; so do the 
 young plants of grace receive a double portion of 
 sunlight by day, and of the dew by night. 
 
 The light wherein for the first 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 upon our first 
 love. Grace then is- grace indeed ; for then it 
 effectually operates on us, moving us to hearty 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 183 
 
 affection and burning zeal, while it absorbs the pas 
 sions in one object, wrapping us up in itself. So 
 rich are the manifestations of Jesus to our souls at 
 that hour, that in after life we look back to that 
 time as " the days of our espousals ;" so ardent are 
 we then in love to our Lord, that in succeeding 
 years we are often 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 every day of our life, yet on the first coronation 
 morning the fullest horn is emptied upon us. A 
 man 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 ; every 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 and 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 was not for ever in the third heaven, nor was 
 
 * Brooks. 
 
184 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 John in the Spirit every Lord s-day. Grace is at 
 all times a deep, unfathomable sea, but it is not 
 always at flood-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 intro 
 duce us to the king ; but when we are safely set 
 tled 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 the day of their union to him ; 
 but, perhaps, to-morrow he may, for their benefit 
 and his glory, " plunge them into the ditch, so that 
 their own clothes shall abhor them." It may be 
 we have a greater sense and sight of grace at first 
 than we do afterwards, and this is the reason of our 
 greater joy. 
 
 3. The exceeding value of the things revealed na 
 turally 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 wonder and praise. The mer 
 cies received are discovered to be inestimably pre 
 cious, and hence there springs at once 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 liabili 
 ties, and secure him an abundant provision for life. 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 185 
 
 "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 un 
 moved ? Can he banish hunger at the King s own 
 table, and feel the embraces of his reconciled Mon 
 arch, 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 rejoice, 
 
 " For should he refuse to sing 
 Sure the very stones would speak." 
 
 It is no small thing to receive a succession of mer 
 cies 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 
 our 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 himself our Lord, our God. 
 Can a mortal become possessor of Christ, of his 
 
186 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 person, his attributes, his all and can he then re 
 strain the bliss which must find his heart a vessel 
 all too narrow to contain it ? Surely sweetness is 
 only sweetness when we discern Him as our ever 
 lasting Friend ours entirely, ours securely, ours 
 eternally. 
 
 " Known and unknown, human, divine ! 
 Sweet human hand, and lips, and eye, 
 Dear heavenly friend thou canst not die, 
 MINE, MINE for ever, ever MINE !" * 
 
 Truly, the believer might be excused if at the first 
 recognition of the Redeemer as his own, own 
 Friend, he should become sick of love, or faint with 
 overflowing happiness. Rhoda opened not the 
 gate for gladness when she heard 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 ! Con 
 ceive the rapturous delights of the sailors of Colum 
 bus 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 mountain-tops they saw 
 the flood which washed 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 
 
 * In Memoriam. 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 187 
 
 and soul and strength the praise of One who 
 hath done great things for them, whereof they are 
 glad. 
 
 4. At this season the spirit lives nearer to its 
 God, and thus it dwells nearer heaven. The things 
 of the world have less power to charm us when we 
 have but lately proved their vanity ; the flesh hath 
 scarcely ceased to smart with the pain caused by 
 the burnings of sin, and we are the more afraid of 
 the fire; we have just escaped the paw 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 ye walked 
 with God, how calm was your frame, how heavenly 
 your spirit ! Ye never saw the face of man when 
 ye left your chambers till ye had seen 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 prayerfulriess ! how 
 watchful your daily behaviour ! What a marvel 
 lous tenderness of conscience characterised you ! 
 you trembled to put one foot before the other, lest 
 you should offend your God ; you avoided the very 
 appearance of evil ; - you were moved by the faint 
 est whispers of duty ; and all the while what a 
 quiet state of repose your soul did swim in, and how 
 
188 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 
 
 pleasantly did you commune with heaven ! Grace 
 had planted an Eden around you, where you 
 walked with Jehovah amid the trees 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 beloved." You drank out of 
 your Master s cup, and fed out of his hand, like the 
 poor man s ewe lamb in Nathan s parable. Your 
 eyes were up unto Him, as the eyes of handmaidens 
 to their mistresses ; nor could you afford the vain, 
 harlot world so much as an instant s gaze. In the 
 religious shows of old times they were wont to re 
 present Meditation as a fair maiden, with her eyes 
 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 howlings, sought 
 to divert her from her reading ; but she, nothing 
 moved, still continued wholly occupied therewith : 
 now such were we at the young spring-time of our 
 piety, when we were first 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 perfection 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 
 
JOT AT CONVERSION. 189 
 
 sour drink of this miserable life." * We were 
 wholly lost in admiring him, and could only ask, 
 " Who knoweth how far it is to the bottom of our 
 Christ s fulness ? who ever weighed Christ in 
 scales?" or, "who hath seen the heights, and depths, 
 and lengths, and breadths of his surpassing love ?" 
 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 taber 
 nacles of the Most High. We bathed our brow in 
 the sunlight of an unclouded sky, standing 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 cannot expect to have the same enjoyment 
 unless we be occupied in the same employment. 
 He who goes away from the fire should not ask 
 many times why he does not feel the same heat. 
 The young convert is in a holy frame he is most 
 sure to be in a happy one. Distance from God is 
 the source of the major part of our doubts, fears, 
 and anxieties ; live nearer to him, and we shall be 
 all the further from the world, the flesh, and the 
 
 * Rutherford. 
 
190 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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. Re 
 move then thy sins, O weak believer, and thou 
 mayest hope to see Him yet again ! 
 
 5. Immediately after conversion we are emi 
 nently 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 religious service, 
 even though it be at a considerable distance, 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 high 
 crime and misdemeanour to have been absent at 
 any available opportunity. Hence the soul, feed 
 ing 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 progress 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 
 retain its comforts. We have met with some few 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 191 
 
 of the eminently holy who have enjoyed a con 
 tinual feast ever since the day of their espousals ; 
 but these were men who were 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 strip 
 lings of Jesus, that began to strip but the other day, 
 do not outrun you, so as to have that Scripture ful 
 filled 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 with tem 
 poral. " Give diligence to make your calling and 
 election sure , for if ye do these things, ye shall 
 never fall, for so an entrance 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 heed to his 
 flocks and his herds. It is not one venture which 
 maketh the soul rich ; it is continued perseverance 
 in the business of salvation. None but lively, 
 active Christians can expect to feel those ravishing 
 
 * Heavenly Footman. 
 
192 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 
 
 joys, sweet comforts, and blessed delights 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 
 grace at work, and thy joys shall marvellously 
 increase. If our bucket be empty, we had better 
 ask ourselves whether it might not be full again 
 were it sent down into the well. Truly, a neglect 
 of means robs us of much consolation. 
 
 6. Novelty no doubt had some hand in the sin 
 gular feelings of that joyous season. As an emi 
 nent saint says, " They were new things, where 
 withal I was utterly unacquainted before, and this 
 made them the more affecting." We have all felt 
 the great exciting powder of novelty in everyday- 
 life, and the same influence exerts itself upon the 
 inner life of the soul. At first, pardon, adoption, 
 acceptance, and the kindred blessings, are new 
 things, and, besides 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 ex 
 pand 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 
 hedgerows, and the dewdrops are all pearls ; the 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 193 
 
 smoke of earth hath not yet darkened the skies, 
 and they are one pure firmament 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 some 
 thing which has but lately come to the light of 
 observation. True, we shall find the glories of the 
 cross as marvellous in after years as they are now, 
 but now they are so startling to us that we cannot 
 but feel astonishment and wonder. As he who after 
 a life of blindness at the first sight of the stars would 
 naturally lift up his hands in amazement, so doth 
 the man from whose spiritual eye the film hath 
 been removed, exult in his first vision of the hea 
 venly gifts of God. Never is the rose more lovely 
 than in its bud ; so grace is never more graceful 
 than in its beginnings. The young lambs frisk in 
 the fields they will assume a steadier gait when 
 they become " the sheep of the 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 com 
 mon cause is the fact that, at first conversion, the 
 soul relies more simply upon Christ, and looks more 
 attentively at him than it does in after days, when 
 evidences, good works, and graces, become more 
 an object of regard than the person of Jesus. When 
 the glorious Redeemer finds us lost and ruined in 
 the fall when he makes us deeply conscious of 
 that ruin then we take him, and him alone, for 
 
 9 
 
194: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTTK. 
 
 our treasure ; but in future years he gives to us 
 sundry rings, jewels, and ornaments, as love-tokens 
 
 and we most foolishly set our eyes more upon 
 
 these than upon the Giver, and consequently lose 
 much of the cheering effect of a constant view of 
 the Saviour. At the first time of love we are too 
 weak to venture on our own feet, but cling with 
 both our arms around the neck of Jesus ; there we 
 find an easy carriage, which we lose when our 
 overweening pride constrains him to set us on the 
 ground to run alone. He who hath a speck in the 
 eye of his faith, obscuring his vision of the Saviour, 
 will find much pain resulting therefrom. That 
 which removes us from the simplicity of our faith 
 in Christ, although it be in itself most excellent, yet 
 to us becomes a curse. Many of us might be wil 
 ling to renounce all our experience, our graces, and 
 our evidences, if we might but return to the former 
 childlike faith of our spiritual infancy. To lie 
 quietly afloat on the stream of free grace is the 
 very glory of existence, the perfection of earthly 
 happiness. 
 
 ISTo seat 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 fragrance as 
 that which is shed from the robes of the all-glorious 
 Emmanuel, of whom it is written, " All thy gar 
 ments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia." 
 Whatsoever spiritual joy we have which springs 
 
JOT AT CONVERSION. 195 
 
 not from Christ as the Fountain, we shall find it 
 sooner or later bitter to our taste. The young con 
 vert is happy because he drinks only from Jesus, 
 and is yet too full of infirmity to attempt the hew 
 ing of a cistern for himself. 
 
 If we be unfaithful to Christ, we must not ex 
 pect many of his smiles. It matters little what 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 anything 
 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 posses 
 sion of our heart. Jesus, like his Father, is a jea 
 lous 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 constantly 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 possibly increase to an indefi 
 nite degree, until our tabernacle on earth would be 
 like a house built upon the wall of heaven, or at 
 
 * Owen. 
 
196 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 may 
 be," saith a holy Puritan to the doubting soul, " it 
 may be, if thou hadst minded and endeavoured 
 more after community with God and conformity to 
 God, thou mightest at this time have looked up 
 ward, and seen God in Christ smiling upon thee, 
 and have looked inward into thy soul, and seen 
 the Spirit of grace witnessing to thy spirit that 
 thou wert a son, an heir, an heir of God, and a 
 joint-heir with Christ. But thou hast minded more 
 thine own comfort than Christ s honour ; thou hast 
 minded the blossoms and the fruit more than 
 Christ, the Koot ; thou hast minded the springs of 
 comfort more than Christ, the Fountain of life ; 
 thou hast minded the beams of the sun more than 
 the Sun of righteousness : and, therefore, it is a 
 righteous thing with God to leave thee to walk in 
 a valley of darkness, to hide his face from thee, 
 and to seem to be as an enemy to thee." Let us 
 labour then to keep our eye single, so shall our 
 whole body be full of light light cheering and de 
 lightful beyond what we can even dream. It is 
 quite impossible to define the limit of the happi 
 ness mortals may experience in the condescending 
 company of a gracious Saviour ; let us each seek 
 to soar into the loftiest air, that we may prove what 
 is the joy unspeakable and full of glory. Certain 
 
JOT AT CONVERSION. 197 
 
 it is that faith is the golden pipe which conducts 
 the living waters of the mount of God to the pil 
 grim sons of Jehovah. Let us keep the course un 
 obstructed, and we may hope to drink deep 
 draughts of true delight. 
 
 It cannot be supposed that we have enumerated 
 more than a small proportion of the causes of this 
 spiritual phenomenon ; the rest lie beyond the 
 writer s limited experience, or do not at this mo 
 ment suggest themselves. These, perhaps, are the 
 most frequent, and consequently the most appa 
 rent. 
 
 Should we have a reader who has lost his first 
 love, it may be he will, by these suggestions, be 
 able to detect the secret robber who has stolen his 
 substance. If so, we beseech him, as he loves his 
 own soul, to be in earnest to remedy the evil by 
 driving out the insidious enemy. O spirit of God, 
 restore unto us each " the years which the locust 
 lias eaten !" 
 
 II. We shall now endeavour to discover the 
 designs of our heavenly Father in thus favouring 
 us on that happy day of conversion. These are 
 many, and most of them unknown : we must, 
 therefore, be content to behold some of them ; 
 and may the contemplation excite wonder, grati 
 tude, and love. 
 
 1. Doubtless our Lord would have us ever remern- 
 
198 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 "her that day, and regard it with an especial interest ; 
 therefore did he crown it with loving kindness and 
 tender mercies. It was a birth-day he distin 
 guished it with festivities ; it was a marriage-day 
 he celebrated it with music ; it w T as a resurrec 
 tion he did attend it with joyful sound of trum 
 pet. He illuminated that page of our biography 
 that we might refer to it with ease. It was a high 
 da} 7 , and he made it high in our esteem by the 
 marvellous grace which he displayed towards us. 
 At the signing of Magna Charta, if on no other 
 occasion, the king and his courtiers w r ould array 
 themselves in all their dazzling robes and glitter 
 ing jewels ; surely it is not unbecoming even in the 
 majesty of heaven to reveal something of its glo 
 ries when making peace with rebels. The black 
 cap is but the fitting accompaniment of the sen 
 tence of death ; why should it be thought unseemly 
 that garments of praise should fye displayed on the 
 day of acquittal ? In heaven there is held a solemn 
 festival when heirs of glory are begotten, and the 
 heart of Jesus rejoices over the recovery of his lost 
 sheep : we need not wonder that the cause of such 
 sublime delights is himself made a sharer in them. 
 Men strike medals to commemorate great national 
 successes ; should it be considered a strange thing 
 that Jesus giveth tokens to his people in the day 
 of their salvation ? We are but too little mindful of 
 the benefits of the Lord ; he doth therefore mark 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 199 
 
 this day of the calendar in golden letters, that we 
 may be compelled to remembrance. 
 
 It can never happen to us again : we are regen 
 erated for all saved in a moment from sin and its 
 consequences ; it is meet that we should make 
 merry and be glad, for the dead are alive, and the 
 lost are found. The peace has just now been wel 
 comed with illuminations and with national festivi 
 ties ; shall the eternal peace between heaven and 
 the soul be unattended with rejoicings ? The 
 greater the occasion, the more proper is its remem 
 brance and what can be a happier event to us 
 than our salvation ? therefore let it be had in per 
 petual remembrance, and let " all kinds of music " 
 unite to sound its praise. Some among us honour 
 the anniversary of the building of the house of the 
 Lord ; but far more do we delight in the returning 
 day which saw us placed as living stones in the tem 
 ple of Jesus. Bless the Lord, O our souls, who hath 
 forgiven all our iniquities and healed all our diseases ! 
 
 2. Our wise and loving Lord graciously designed 
 to give us something which might in all after trials 
 1e a sweet staying to the soul when a present sense 
 of his love should be absent. How often have we 
 been enabled to recover confidence in the day of 
 our infirmity, by remembering " the years of the 
 right hand of the Most High !"* David, when his 
 
 * Ps. Ixxvii. 10. 
 
200 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 soul refused to be comforted, found it good " to con 
 sider the days of old," and to rehearse his former 
 " song in the night." He declares that his " spirit 
 made diligent search," meaning that he turned 
 over the register and records of God s former mer 
 cies, in order that some record, still extant, might 
 help him in his need. When the heir of heaven is 
 in doubt as to his inheritance among them that are 
 sanctified, it affords no small degree of assurance 
 to be able to turn to the birth-day register, and 
 read " of Zion it is said this man was born there ;" 
 this decides the case at once in our favour. In 
 times of contention, when we " see not our signs," 
 we shall find it eminently comfortable to look back 
 to the consecrated hour which witnessed our ac 
 ceptance in the beloved, for so shall we again be 
 able to assure ourselves of our election by a remem 
 brance of our calling. 
 
 "We at times should have had no heart for song 
 if we had not found our harp already tuned, having" 
 not yet become unstrung since the hour of high 
 festivity in the halls of bounty. Some despise 
 Ebenezers, and talk slightingly of the hope which 
 issues from them ; but persons can scarcely have 
 had more than a superficial experience, or they 
 would have learned far better. 
 
 The future would lie for ever in obscurity if we 
 did not borrow a lamp from the hand of the past 
 to cheer the gloom, and show where a sure foot- 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 201 
 
 hold is to be found. This, then, is God s design in 
 lighting up the hill Mizar of our first conversion, 
 that it may cast a light, like Malvern s watch-fire, 
 for many a mile beyond. 
 
 A pleasant anecdote is told of Mr. Kidd, once 
 minister of Queensferry, near Edinburgh. He was 
 one day very much depressed and discouraged, for 
 want of that comfort which is produced by simple 
 faith in Jesus. He therefore sent a note to Mr. 
 
 L , the minister of Culross, requesting a visit 
 
 from him, that a brother s help might lift him out 
 of his Slough of Despond. When the servant 
 
 arrived at Culross, Mr. L told him that he was 
 
 too busy to wait upon his master, but he was 
 charged to deliver these words to him " Remem 
 ber Torwood!" The man, like Jonathan s lad, 
 knew nothing of the matter, but Mr. Kidd under 
 stood it well, for at Torwood he had received mani 
 festations of Jesus. Upon being reminded thereof, 
 his darkness vanished, and he joyfully cried out, 
 " Yes, Lord ! I will remember Thee, from the hill 
 Mizar, and from the Hermonites !" It may be that 
 in periods of gloom and distraction, that place, 
 that spot of ground where Jesus met with us for the 
 first time, will prove a very Bethel to our spirits. 
 Here is wisdom in this day of joy, let him that 
 knoweth it be thankful. 
 
 3. We had suffered so much in the time of con- 
 motion that ive needed much tenderness, and 
 
 9* 
 
202 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 therefore He gave it to us. There was no small 
 fear lest we should be swallowed up of sorrow, and 
 die under the pangs and throes of the new birth, 
 therefore did he tend us with the carefulness of a 
 mother, and watch over us with abundant compas 
 sions. Like a sailor snatched from the deep, we 
 were ready to perish, and should have expired in 
 our deliverer s arms had he not used the most com 
 passionate arts to restore us to life. We were sore 
 broken and wounded, therefore did he place us in 
 an infirmary on the hills of Delight, where he 
 made all our bed in our sickness, poured out his 
 best wine with bis own hand, fed us with royal 
 dainties, and all the while did watch us, lest any 
 should disturb our rest. When we become some 
 what stronger, he leaves us to share with our fel 
 low-soldiers in the camp, whose rations are not 
 quite so full of marrow and fatness. 
 
 The wise shepherds said to the pilgrim band, 
 " Come in, Mr. Feeblemind ; come in, Mr. Eeady- 
 to-halt; come in, Mr. Despondency and Mrs. Much- 
 afraid, his daughter." These were called by name 
 because of their weakness, while the stronger sort 
 were left to their own liberty. So also at their 
 feast they made the viands suitable to the condi 
 tion of the tender ones, " of things easy of diges 
 tion, and that were pleasant to the palate, and 
 nourishing." Many of the promises are made spe 
 cially for the feeble among the Lord s flock, to be 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 203 
 
 heavenly ambulances for the wounded. When 
 grace is young, and as yet but a spark, the kind 
 hand of the Lord preserves it from the rough wind, 
 and his own warm breath fans it to a flame. He 
 doth not deliver the soul of his turtle-dove into the 
 hand of its enemies, but for a while houseth it in 
 the rock, or carrieth it in his hand. The tender 
 plant of grace is covered all the day long, watered 
 every moment, protected from the frost, and fos 
 tered in the warm air of communion and endear 
 ing fellowship. It should be accepted as a conclu 
 sive proof of the wisdom and prudence of our 
 gracious God, that he sendeth the soft and refresh 
 ing showers upon the new-mown grass, and in that 
 blessed manner effaces all the ill effects of the 
 severe discipline of conviction. " If," says Austin, 
 " one drop of the joy of the Holy Ghost should fall 
 into hell, it would swallow up all the torments of 
 hell ;" assuredly it soon removes all the sadness 
 produced by pains of repentance. 
 
 4. The journey before us was exceeding long, 
 therefore did he refresh us before he sent us on our 
 way. Elijah was made to eat once and again be 
 fore his forty days of travelling so must the spirit 
 be refreshed before it sets out on its long pilgrim 
 age. Jesus, in this hour of heaven, drops such 
 tokens of love into the hands of his children that 
 in after days the}- may recruit their strength by 
 looking upon the heavenly earnest. The smiles, 
 
204 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 embraces, and assurances of that hour put spirit 
 and mettle into the Christian warrior, enabling him 
 to bid defiance to the stoutest enemies, and brave 
 the greatest dangers. Before fighting, feasting. 
 The angels met Jacob at Mahanairn before he heard 
 of Esau s threatening approach. Paul was caught 
 up into the third heaven before he was buffeted by 
 the messenger of Satan. There should be cheering 
 words at the buckling on of the harness, for they 
 will all be wanted by-and-by. God filleth the be 
 liever s bottle full when he starteth, for he hath a 
 wide desert to traverse, a thirsty heart to carry, 
 and few wells on the road. Although grace, like 
 manna, must descend day by day yet comforts, 
 like the quails, come only at seasons, and we must 
 gather enough at those times to last us many days. 
 It is certain that the delights of the past afford the 
 readiest means for exciting pleasure in the present, 
 we carry from the fires of yesterday burning coals 
 for the kindling of to-day. The ship hath more 
 provisions on board when it starts upon its voyage 
 than it is likely to have in a few weeks, and it then 
 showeth all its flags and streamers which must soon 
 be furled, and the canvas will be spread, which, 
 though more useful, is not so glorious for show. 
 The remembrance of the happy shore, and the gai 
 ety of the departure, will support the spirit of the 
 mariners when storms assail them, and the comforts 
 then placed on board will be found none too many 
 
JOY AT CONVEIiSION. 205 
 
 for the greatness of their toil upon the wide and 
 stormy sea. Gurnal says that past experiences are 
 like cold dishes reserved at a feast, from which the 
 child of God can make a hearty meal when there 
 is nothing else on the table ; and when we consider 
 how long a time has sometimes elapsed between 
 one banquet and another, it is doubtless intended 
 that we should set aside an abundant provision 
 from the well-spread table which furnishes the 
 feast of the penitent s reception. Take thy first 
 joys, O little faith, and drink full draughts of cor 
 dial from them. 
 
 5. By the joy of his right hand. He put to flight 
 our hard thoughts of him. Deceived by the out 
 ward appearance, we thought his chastenings un 
 kind ; we attributed his wounds to cruelty and en 
 mity ; nor could our mistake be corrected until He 
 displayed the richness of his love in the most compas 
 sionate way by restoring our soul and renewing 
 our strength. Oh ! what a death-blow was his love 
 to all our unkind thoughts of him ; how were we 
 ashamed to look at the dear friend whom we had 
 so basely slandered ! We saw it all then, clear as 
 noonday, and wept at the recollection of our pre 
 mature judgment and rash surmises. The Lord 
 soon changed our thoughts concerning his dealings. 
 We said, " It is enough ; these things are not 
 against me : surely goodness and mercy shall fol 
 low me all the days of my life." 
 
206 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 We might to this hour have been mindful of our 
 agonies, if the succeeding joy had not obliterated 
 all ; so that, like the woman after her deliverance, 
 " we remember no more the travail " for joy at the 
 result. If we had only felt the sore woundings of 
 his arm, and had never had a look at his sweet 
 loving face, we might have written hard things 
 against God as well as against ourselves ; but now 
 that he visiteth us in mercy, we gladly confess, 
 "Thou hast dealt well with thy servant, O Lord, 
 according unto thy word." When reaping the 
 fruit of that rough sowing, we repent most truly of 
 the impatience and unbelief which dared to lie 
 against the Lord, and accuse him of unkindness. 
 We retracted every word, and would have washed 
 those feet with tears which we had bespattered 
 with our vile suspicions, and kissed away every 
 stain which our unbelief had put upon his pure, un- 
 mingled love. 
 
 6. This cheering manifestation of mercy made 
 us full of love to the good ways of holiness, which 
 we then found to be exceedingly pleasant. Hence 
 forth we believe and know the king s highway to 
 be a path of peace ; and when at any time we lose 
 the happiness once enjoyed, we look back to the 
 time of love, and remembering how sweet was the 
 service of Jesus, we march forward with renewed 
 vigour. We had heard the vile calumny that reli 
 gion was a thing of misery and sadness, and that 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 207 
 
 its followers were the companions of owls and 
 lovers of lamentation ; but the jubilant nature of 
 our reception into the house of the saints laid bare 
 the slander, and discovered the reverse of our 
 gloomy apprehensions. We thought that glens, 
 ravines, wildern esses, clouds, tempests, lions, dra 
 gons, and all kind of horrid things, were the sum- 
 total of Christian experience ; but instead thereof 
 we were " led forth with peace ;" where we feared 
 a wilderness we found a Sharon, and the oil of joy 
 was given us instead of the expected mourning. 
 
 We labour now to exhibit cheerfulness, since we 
 firmly believe that this recommends the way to the 
 wavering, and is the true method of honouring 
 the God of all consolation. " This world is a howl 
 ing wilderness to those alone who go howling 
 through it ;" but 
 
 " The men of grace have found 
 
 Glory begun below ; 
 Celestial fruits, on earthly ground, 
 From faith and hope may grow." 
 
 He who affirms that godliness is gloominess 
 knoweth not what he saith. The Lord desireth to 
 teach us, at the very beginning of our Christian 
 career, that he would have us be happy, happy 
 only in himself. He makes us glad when we are 
 but beginners, and little in Israel, that we may see 
 that we can be made blessed by simple faith, with- 
 
208 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 out any other assistance. " Christians might avoid 
 much trouble," says Dr. Payson, " if they would 
 only believe what they profess that God is able 
 to make them happy without anything else. They 
 imagine, if such a dear friend were to die, or such 
 and such blessings to be removed, they should be 
 miserable ; whereas, God can make them a thou 
 sand times happier without them. To mention my 
 own case God has been depriving me of one bles 
 sing after another ; but as every one has been re 
 moved, he has come in and filled up its place ; and 
 now, when I am a cripple, and not able to move, I 
 am happier than ever I was in my life before, or 
 ever expected to be ; and if I had believed this 
 twenty years ago, I might have been spared much 
 anxiety." This is the very thing our very gracious 
 Jesus would teach us, if we were not so slow to 
 learn ; for, in the very first dawning of life, when 
 graces and virtues are not yet developed, he makes 
 himself so precious that we may ki.ow that he 
 alone is the fountain of delights, and the very soul 
 of rejoicing. He puts into us a constant love to his 
 ways, by that delightful advent which he gives us 
 at the very first step we take therein. It is of no 
 use for the infidel to tell us our course will not end 
 in bliss it began with it, and we are compelled to 
 believe that, if the same Jesus be Alpha and 
 Omega too, the end must be eternal happiness. 
 7. We may also regard these great delights as 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 209 
 
 earnests of the future bliss of the righteous. A. 
 pledge assures the wavering, and confirms the 
 weak ; wisdom, therefore, bestows the earnest upon 
 the young believer that he may be rendered confi 
 dent of ultimate felicity. During our progress to 
 the celestial city, our Lord is pleased to refresh our 
 souls with sundry " drops of heaven," as the fore 
 taste of that glorious rest which remains for his 
 people, and this early joy is the first of a series of 
 antepasts of heaven which we hope to receive 
 while sojourning below. It is, so to speak, the 
 enlisting money wherewith the young recruit is 
 pledged to the king s service, and assured of his 
 bounty. 
 
 The Apostle Paul tells us that the holy spirit of 
 promise is the earnest of our inheritance. " The 
 original word, appaf3c,)v, seems properly to denote 
 the first part of the price that is paid in any con 
 tract as an earnest and security of the remainder, 
 and which therefore is not taken back, but kept till 
 the residue is paid to complete the whole sum." * 
 Such are the raptures of the newly -pardoned soul 
 tokens which he will keep for ever, as the first 
 instalment of an eternal weight of glory, and which 
 he may safely retain as a portion of his own inheri 
 tance. These spiritual joys are like the cluster of 
 grapes which, the spies brought from Eschol they 
 
 * Chandler. 
 
210 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 are sweet in themselves, but they become more 
 delightful still when they are regarded as proofs 
 that the land of Canaan is fertile, and flowing with 
 milk and honey. Thus the rest of the Sabbath is 
 described by Stennet as " the antepast of heaven," 
 and of its true enjoyment he says : 
 
 " This heavenly calm within the breast 
 Is the dear pledge of glorious rest, 
 "Which for the Church of God remains 
 The end of cares, the end of pains." 
 
 The last of the seers, whom we feel constrained 
 to quote in almost every page, makes " Hopeful " 
 victorious over the scoffing " Atheist " by the 
 simple expression, " What ! no Mount Zion ? Did 
 we not see from the Delectable Mountains the gate 
 of the city ?" These Sabbath mercies, delectable 
 views, and days of espousals, are a witness within 
 the believer which all the sneers of mail, the malice 
 of devils, and the doubts of corrupt nature cannot 
 disprove. Such things are designed to be the true 
 u internal evidence " of the power of the Gospel. 
 
 The ends and purposes of God which we have 
 mentioned are far from despicable, and when we 
 remember the marvellously pleasant process by 
 which such great effects are produced, we would 
 desire to ascribe honour to that eternal wisdom 
 which can use rich wines as well as bitter medicines 
 in the cure of souls. 
 
JOT AT CONVERSION. 211 
 
 And now, reader, what dost thou say to these 
 things ? Hast thou tasted the " thousand sacred 
 sweets " which are afforded by the hill of Zion ? 
 Hast thou felt the " heaven begun below " of which 
 we have treated ? If thou hast not, then allow a 
 word of advice which may well be furnished from 
 the subject: "Never believe the falsehood which 
 pronounces true religion to le a miserable thing, for 
 a more ungrounded slander can never be imagined. 
 The godly have their trials as well as the rest of 
 the human family, but these are rather the effects 
 of sin than of grace. They find this world at times 
 a howling wilderness but then the manna from 
 above, arid the rock which follows them, combine 
 to prevent their howling as they pass through it, 
 and constrain the wilderness and the solitary place 
 to be glad for them. Some of them are of a sor 
 rowful countenance but their gloom is the result 
 of temperament rather than of religion, and if they 
 had more grace, the wrinkles upon their brows 
 might become fewer. 
 
 The Gospel is in itself "glad tidings of great 
 joy ; can you suppose that misery is the result of 
 that which is essentially joyful? The very pro 
 clamation of it is a theme for exulting song ; * how 
 much more the reception of it? If the hope of 
 reconciliation be a just ground of rejoicing, how 
 
 * Isa. Hi. 710 
 
212 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 much more the actual agreement of the soul with 
 its God? "We rejoice in God through Jesus 
 Christ, by whom we have received the atone 
 ment."* To us there are express precepts given 
 to. "rejoice in the Lord alway."f And that the 
 exhortation might have its full weight, and not be 
 accounted hasty, it is solemnly repeated, " and 
 again I say, Rejoice." Hence, therefore, we may 
 safely conclude that the genuine right temper and 
 frame of a healthy Christian mind will be an 
 habitual joy fulness, prevailing over all the tempo 
 rary occasions of sorrow which in this life must 
 unavoidably beset us. 
 
 JSTo trial can be thought of so heavy as to out 
 weigh our great cause of joy; nor can the kingdom 
 of God ever be in its constitution, even when 
 attacked by the most furious assaults, anything 
 other than " righteousness, and peace, and joy in 
 the Holy Ghost." J " Nor," says Howe, in a letter 
 to the bereaved Lady Russell, "is this a theory 
 only, or the idea and notion of an excellent temper 
 of spirit, which we may contemplate indeed, but 
 can never attain to. For we find it also to have 
 been the attainment and usual temper of Christians 
 heretofore, that, 4 being justified by faith, and hav 
 ing peace with God, they have rejoiced, in hope 
 of the glory of God, unto that degree as even to 
 
 * Rom. v. 11. f Phil. iv. 4. \ 1 Thes. v. 16. 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 213 
 
 1 glory in their tribulations also ; * and in the con 
 fidence that they should be kept by the power of 
 God through faith unto salvation, they have there 
 fore { greatly rejoiced, though with some mixture 
 of heaviness (whereof there was need) from their 
 manifold trials. But that their joy did surmount 
 and prevail over their heaviness is manifest, for 
 this is spoken of with much diminution, whereas 
 they are said to rejoice greatly J and with joy 
 unspeakable and full of glory. " f 
 
 If, when the believer is but a feeble thing, " car 
 ried away by every wind," he is, despite his weak 
 ness, able to rise to raptures of joy, who shall dare 
 to suppose him unhappy 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 palace ? If the very hedgerows of 
 her garden are laden with fruit, what shall we not 
 find on the goodly trees in the centre ? The blade 
 yieldeth much, shall the ear be empty ? Nay, " the 
 ways 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 per 
 son of Jesus. Amen. 
 
 * Rom. v. 1, 3. f 1 Pet. i. 5, 6, 8. 
 
TO THE TJNCOETEKTED KEADEK. 
 
 FKIEND, We have been answering questions 
 concerning a joy with which thou canst not inter- 
 meddle^for thou art, to thine own loss and shame, 
 a stranger from the commonwealth of Israel. But 
 thou too hast a question or two which it were well 
 to ask thyself. Whence that misery of which thou 
 art at time s the victim ? Why dost thou tremble 
 under an arousing sermon ? Why doth the funeral 
 knell grate on thine ear? What makes thy knees 
 knock together at the sound of thunder? Why 
 dost thou quiver at nightfall, though a leaf, all soli 
 tary, was the only thing which stirred within many 
 a yard of thee? Why dost thou feel such alarm 
 when pestilence is abroad ? Why so anxious after 
 a hundred remedies ? Why so fearful if thou art 
 but sick an hour ? Why so unwilling to visit the 
 grave of thy companion? Answer this, O soul, 
 without reserve ! Is it not that thou art afraid to 
 die ? It is ! thou knowest it is ! 
 
 214 
 
JOY AT CONVERSION. 215 
 
 But, O my friend, fear death as much as thou 
 wilt, thou canst not escape it. On his pale horse 
 he is pursuing thee at no lame pace, but at a rate 
 which thou mayst guess of by the wind or the flash 
 ing lightning. Noiseless is the wing of time, dumb 
 is the lip of death ; but time is none the less rapid 
 for its silence, and death not one whit the more 
 uncertain because he trumpets not his coming. 
 Remember, while thou art fearing, the messenger 
 is hastening to arrest thee. Every moment now 
 gliding away is another moment lost, and lost to 
 one who little can afford it x Oh ! ere the wax hath 
 cooled which is sealing thy death-warrant, list to a 
 warning from God, for if the book of thy doom be 
 once sealed, it shall never be opened for erasure or 
 inscription. Hear Moses and the prophets, and 
 then hear the great Jesus speak : " The soul that 
 sinneth it shall die." " He will by no means spare 
 the guilty." " Cursed is every one that continueth 
 not in all things that are written in the book of the 
 law to do them." " Behold the day cometh that 
 shall burn as an oven, and all the proud, yea, and 
 ALL THAT DO WICKEDLY, shall be stubble ; and the 
 day that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord 
 of Hosts, that it shall leave them neither root nor 
 branch." Regard then the voice of Jesus, full of 
 mercy : " The Son of Man is come to seek and to 
 save that which was lost" 
 
216 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIC0R. 
 
 " Sinner, is thy heart at rest ? 
 Is thy bosom void of fear ? 
 Art thou not by guilt oppress d ? 
 Speaks not conscience in thine ear ? 
 
 " Can this world afford thee bliss ? 
 Can it chase away thy gloom ? 
 Flattering, false, and rain it is ; 
 Tremble at the worldling s doom. 
 
 " Long the Gospel thou hast spurn d, 
 Long delay d to love thy God, 
 Stifled conscience, nor hast turn d, 
 "Woo d though by a Saviour s blood. 
 
 " Think, sinner ! on thy end ! 
 See the judgment-day appear ; 
 Thither must thy spirit wend, 
 There thy righteous sentence hear. 
 
 " Wretched, ruin d, helpless soul, 
 To a Saviour s blood apply ; 
 He alone can make thee whole 
 Fly to Jesus, sinner, fly." * 
 
 * Waterbury. 
 
YI. 
 COMPLETE IN CHRIST, 
 
 " Ye are complete in Him." COL. ii. 10. 
 
 THE pardoned sinner for awhile is content with 
 the boon of forgiveness, and is too overjoyed with 
 a sense of freedom from bondage to know a wish 
 oeyond. In a little time, however, he bethinks 
 himself of his position, his wants, and his pros 
 pects: what is then his rapture at the discovery 
 that the roll of his pardon is also an indenture of 
 all wealth, a charter of all privileges, a title-deed 
 of all needed blessings ! Having received Christ, 
 he hath obtained all things in him. He looketh to 
 that cross upon which the dreadful handwriting of 
 ordinances hath been nailed; to his unutterable 
 surprise he beholds it blossom with mercy, and like 
 a tree of life bring forth the twelve manner of 
 fruits yea, all that he requires for life, for death, 
 for time, or for eternity. Lo ! at the foot of the 
 once accursed tree grow plants for his healing, and 
 
 10 m 
 
218 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 flowers for his delight; from the bleeding feet of 
 the Redeemer flows directing love to lead him all 
 the desert through from the pierced side there 
 gushes cleansing water to purge him from the 
 power of sin the nails become a means of secur 
 ing him to righteousness, while above the crown 
 hangs visible as the gracious reward of persever 
 ance. All things are in the cross by this we 
 conquer, by this we live, by this we are purified, 
 by this we continue firm to the end. While sitting 
 beneath the shadow of our Lord, we think our 
 selves most rich, for angels seem to sing, " Ye are 
 complete in him." 
 
 " COMPLETE IN HIM !" - precious sentence ! 
 sweeter than honey to our soul, we would adore 
 the Holy Spirit for dictating such glorious words 
 to his servant Paul. Oh ! may we by grace be 
 made to see that they really are ours for ours 
 they are if we answer to the character described in 
 the opening verses of the Epistle to the Colossians. 
 If we have faith in Christ Jesus, love towards all 
 the saints, and a hope laid up in heaven, we may 
 grasp this golden sentence as all our own. Reader, 
 hast thou been able to follow in that which has 
 already been described as the " way which leads 
 from banishment?" Then thou mayst take this 
 choice sentence to thyself as a portion of thine 
 inheritance ; for weak, poor, helpless, unworthy 
 though thou be in thyself, in Him, thy Lord, thy 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 219 
 
 Redeemer, thou art complete in the fullest, broad 
 est, and most varied sense of that mighty word, 
 and thou wilt be glad to muse upon the wonders 
 of this glorious position. May the great Teacher 
 guide us into this mystery of the perfection of the 
 elect in Jesus, and may our meditation be cheer 
 ing and profitable to our spirits ! As the words 
 are few, let us dwell on them, and endeavor to 
 gain the sweets which lie so compactly within this 
 little cell. 
 
 Pause over those two little words, " in Him " 
 in Christ ! Here is the doctrine of union and one 
 ness with Jesus a doctrine of undoubted truth 
 and unmingled comfort. The Church is so allied 
 with her Lord that she is positively one with him. 
 She is the bride, and He the bridegroom ; she is 
 the branch, and He the stem ; she the body, and 
 He the glorious Head. So also is every individual 
 believer united to Christ. As Levi lay in the loins 
 of Abraham when Melchisedek met him, so was 
 every believer chosen in Christ, and blessed with 
 all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in him. 
 We have been spared, protected, converted, justi 
 fied, and accepted solely and entirely by virtue of 
 our eternal union with Christ. 
 
 Never can the convinced soul obtain peace until, 
 like Ruth, she finds rest in the house of her kins 
 man, who becomes her husband Jesus the Lord. 
 
220 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 An eminent pastor, lately deceased,* said in one 
 of his sermons, " Now, I am as sure as I am of my 
 own existence that wherever God the Holy Ghost 
 awakens the poor sinner by his mighty grace, and 
 imparts spiritual life in his heart, nothing will ever 
 satisfy that poor sinner but a believing assurance 
 of eternal union with Christ. Unless the soul ob 
 tains a sweet and satisfactory consciousness of it in 
 the exercise of a living faith, it will never < enter 
 into rest this side eternity." 
 
 It is from oneness with Christ before all worlds 
 that we receive all our mercies. Faith is the pre 
 cious grace which discerns this eternal union, and 
 cements it by another a vital union ; so that we 
 become one, not merely in the eye of God, but in 
 our own happy experience one in aim, one in 
 heart, one in holiness, one in communion, and, ulti 
 mately, one in glory. 
 
 This manifest union is not more real and actual 
 than the eternal union of which it is the revela 
 tion ; it does not commence the union, nor does its 
 obscurity or clearness in the least affect the cer 
 tainty or safety of the immutable oneness subsist 
 ing between Jesus and the believer. It is emi 
 nently desirable that every saint should attain a 
 full assurance of his union to Christ, and it is ex 
 ceedingly important that he should labour to main 
 
 * Rev. Joseph Irons, CamberwelL 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 221 
 
 tain a constant sense thereof; for although the 
 mercy be the same, yet his comfort from it will 
 vary according to his apprehension of it. A land 
 scape is as fair by night as by day, but who can 
 perceive its beauties in the dark ? even so we 
 must see, or rather believe, this union to rejoice 
 in it. 
 
 E~o 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 indissolu 
 ble, 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 bank-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 I my best beloved s am, so he is mine." 
 
 Yerily the stream of life floweth along easily 
 enough when it is commingled with him who is our 
 life. Walking with our arm upon the shoulder of 
 the beloved is not simply safe, but delightful ; and 
 living with his life is a noble style of immortality, 
 which may be enjoyed on earth. But to be out of 
 Christ is misery, weakness, and death in short, it 
 
222 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 is the bud, of which the full-blown flower is dam 
 nation. Apart from Jesus we have nothing save 
 fearful forebodings and terrible remembrances. 
 Beloved, there is no Gospel promise which is ours 
 unless we know what it is to be in Him. Out of 
 him 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 
 that a real union exists between us? Then may 
 we proceed to unfold and appropriate the privi 
 leges here mentioned. 
 
 Ye are complete in Him. The word " complete " 
 does not convey the whole of Tre-nvb/pw/zei oj. 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 read 
 ings. 
 
 I. YE ARE COMPLETE IN HIM. Let us consider 
 the meaning of the phrase as it thus stands in our 
 own authorised version. We are complete. In all 
 matters which concern our spiritual welfare, and 
 our soul s salvation, we are complete in Christ. 
 
 1. Complete without the aid of Jewish ceremo 
 nies. These had their uses. They were pictures 
 wherewith the law, as a schoolmaster, taught the 
 infant Jewish church; but now that faith is 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 223 
 
 come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster, for 
 in the clear light of Christian knowledge wo need 
 not the aid of symbols : 
 
 "Finished are the types and shadows 
 Of the ceremonial law." 
 
 The one sacrifice has so atoned for us that we need 
 no other. In Christ we are complete without any 
 addition of circumcision, sacrifice, passover, or 
 temple service. These are now but beggarly ele 
 ments. They would be incumbrances for what 
 can we need from them when we are complete in 
 Christ? What have we to do with moon or stars, 
 now that Christ hath shone forth like the sun in his 
 strength ? Let the dim lamps be quenched they 
 would but mock the dawn, and the sunlight would 
 deride their unneeded glimmerings; We despise 
 not the ceremonial law it was u the shadow of 
 good things to come," and as such we venerate it ; 
 but now that the substance hath appeared, we are 
 not content with guesses of grace, but we grasp 
 him who is grace and truth. How much more 
 highly are we favoured than the ancient believers, 
 for they by daily offerings confessed themselves to 
 be incomplete ! They could 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 
 
224 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 this is our peculiar and superior privilege, that we 
 are perfected by the one offering on Calvary. 
 
 2. We are complete without the help of philo 
 sophy. In Paul s time, there were some who 
 thought that philosophy might be used as a supple 
 ment to faith. They argued, contended, and mys 
 tified every doctrine of revelation. 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 sub 
 lime system of doctrine that he never need to fear 
 the vain speculations of an infidel science, nor 
 need he ever call in the sophisms of the 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. JSTo ! 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 be 
 cause of the sneer of the learned : this Christian 
 will not, cannot do for we see that eternal evi 
 dence in our religion which we may call its best 
 proof, namely, the fact that in it we are complete. 
 
 No man can add anything to the religion of 
 Jesus. All 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 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 225 
 
 theology save that which is false. Those who seek 
 to improve the Gospel of Jesus do but deface it. It 
 is so perfect 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 go to the 
 fight in Saul s armour, for he had not proved it ; 
 so can we say, " the sling and stone are to us abun 
 dant weapons ; as for the mail of philosophy, we 
 leave that for proud Goliahs to wear." One of the 
 most evil signs of our day is its tendency to ration 
 alism, 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 whom they 
 have believed, and will not renounce their confi 
 dence in him for the sophistries of the " wise and 
 prudent." 
 
 3. Complete without the inventions of supersti 
 tion. God is the author of all revealed and spirit 
 ual 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 
 fasted even to physical exhaustion, when he has 
 forfeited all that is natural to man yet he is never 
 sure that he has done enough, he can never say 
 
 10* 
 
226 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 that lie is complete; but the Christian, without 
 any of these, feels that he has gained a consumma 
 tion by those last words of his Saviour " It is 
 finished !" The blood of his agonising Lord is his 
 only and all-sufficient trust. He despises alike the 
 absolutions and the indulgences of priest or pontiff; 
 he tramples on the refuge of lies which the de 
 ceiver has builded his glory and his boast ever 
 centring in the fact that he is complete in Christ. 
 Let but this sentence be preached throughout the 
 earth, and believed by the inhabitants thereof, and 
 all the despots on its surface could not buttress the 
 tottering church of Home, 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 mum 
 meries, pollutions, and corrupt abominations." 
 
 4. We are complete without human merit, our 
 own works being regarded as filthy rags. How 
 many there are who, while waxing warm against 
 popery, are fostering 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. 
 
COMPLETE IN CHKIST. 227 
 
 "While we would diligently cultivate works of holi 
 ness, let us be careful lest we seek to add to the 
 perfect work of Jesus. The robe of righteousness 
 that nature spins and weaves is too frail a fabric 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 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 imputa 
 tion. ~No ; though compassed with sin and sur 
 rounded by our depravity, we know that we are so 
 complete in Jesus that we could not be more so, 
 even were we free from all these things, and glori 
 fied as the spirits of just men made perfect. 
 
 Blessed completely through the God-man, let our 
 unbelief 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 at this 
 moment just, in him entirely clean, in him an 
 object of divine approval and eternal love. Now, 
 as thou art, and where thou art, thou art still com 
 plete. Feeble, forgetful, frail, fearful, and fickle in 
 
228 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 thyself, yet in Him thou art, all that can be 
 desired. Thine unrighteousness is covered, thy 
 righteousness is accepted, thy strength is perfected, 
 safety secured, and thy heaven certain. Rejoice, 
 then, that thou art " Complete in him." Look on 
 thine own nothingness and be humble, but look at 
 Jesus, thy great representative, and be glad. Be 
 not so intent upon thine own corruptions as to for 
 get his immaculate purity, which he has given to 
 thee. Be not so mindful of thine original poverty 
 as to forget the infinite riches which he has con 
 ferred upon thce. It will save thee 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 ABE FULLY SUPPLIED IN HIM. Having 
 him, we have all that we can possibly require. The 
 man of God is thoroughly furnished in the posses 
 sion of his great Saviour. He never need to look 
 for anything beyond, for in him all is treasured. 
 Do we need forgiveness 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 wisdom 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 com- 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 
 
 bats with the foe do we feel want of strength f 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 on Egypt, 
 for help ? Nay, these are broken reeds. Surely, 
 in the Lord Jehovah 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 supplied in him. 
 Do we deplore our ignorance ? He will give us 
 knowledge / He can open our ear to listen to mys 
 teries unknown. Even babes shall learn the won 
 ders of his grace, and children shall 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 comfort, for 
 in him, the consolation of Israel, there are fats full 
 of the oil of joy, and rivers of the wine of thanks 
 giving. 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 what we require ; for it is, and ever 
 shall be, found in the storehouse of mercy, even 1n 
 Jesus Christ." " It hath pleased the Father that 
 in him should all fulness dwell ;" and truly none of 
 the saints have ever complained of any failure in 
 Him. Tens of thousands of them have drawn from 
 
230 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 rnercy, but a string of mer 
 cies, for " my beloved is unto me as a cluster of 
 camphire." " In Christ is a cluster of all spiritual 
 blessings, all the blessings of the everlasting cove 
 nant 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 wis 
 dom, 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. 1 " f The 
 word translated " complete " is used by Demos 
 thenes 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 conceivable or inconceivable trial, we shall 
 find in him sufficient grace: should every earthly 
 stream be dried, there is enough in him, in the 
 absence of them all. His glorious person is the 
 
 Sol. Song, i. 13, 14. f Dr. Gill. 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 231 
 
 dwelling-place of all-sufficiency. " In him dwell- 
 eth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily ;" as the 
 fulness of Deity is sufficient to create and sustain a 
 universe of pondrous 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 incarnate 
 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 precious. 
 Happy is the merchant-man who finds it. We 
 may seek it in riches , but it lieth not there. "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 content in poverty we 
 
232 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOPK. 
 
 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 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. What 
 ever the pursuit may be, whether we invoke the 
 trump of fame to do us homage, and bid our fel 
 lows offer the incense of honour, or pursue the 
 pleasures of sin, and dance a giddy round of merri 
 ment, or follow the less erratic movements of 
 commerce, and acquire influence among men, we 
 shall still be disappointed, we shall have still an 
 aching void, an emptiness within; but when we 
 gather up our straying desires, and bring them to 
 a focus at the foot of Calvary, we feel a solid 
 satisfaction, of which the world cannot deprive 
 us. 
 
 Among the sons of men there are not a few of 
 restless spirit, whose uneasy souls are panting for 
 an unknown good, the want of which they feel, but 
 the nature of which they do not comprehend. 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 233 
 
 These will hurry from country to country, to do lit 
 tle else but attempt a hopeless escape from them 
 selves ; they will flit from pleasure to pleasure, 
 with the only gain of fresh grief from repeated dis 
 appointments. It were hard indeed to compound 
 a medicine for minds thus diseased. Yerily, the 
 aromatics and balms of Araby, or the islands of 
 the sea, might be exhausted ere the elixir of satis 
 faction could be distilled, and every mystic name 
 in the vocabulary of the wise might be tried in vain 
 to produce the all-precious charm of quiet. But in 
 the Gospel we find the inestimable medicine al 
 ready compounded, potent enough to allay the most 
 burning fever, and still the most violent palpita 
 tions of the heart. This we speak from experience, 
 for we too were once, like the unclean spirit " seek 
 ing rest and finding none ;" we once groaned for an 
 unseen something, which in all our joys we could 
 not find, and now, by God s great love, we have 
 found the water which has quenched our thirst it 
 is that which Jesus gives, " the living water " of his 
 grace. We revel in the sweets of the name of 
 Jesus, and long for nought beside. Like Naphtali, 
 we are satisfied with favour, and full of the bless 
 ing of the Lord. Like Jacob, we exclaim, "It is 
 enough." The soul is anchored, the desire is " sa 
 tiated with fatness," the whole man is rich to all the 
 intents of bliss, and looketh for nothing more. Al 
 len, in his Heaven Opened, represents the believer 
 
234: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 as soliloquising in the following joyous manner : 
 " O happy soul, how rich 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 and 
 believingly say with Thomas, My Lord and my 
 God. What need we any further witness ? We 
 have heard his words. He hath sworn by his holi 
 ness that his decree may not be changed, and hath 
 signed it with his own signet. And now return to 
 thy rest, O my soul ! for the Lord hath dealt boun 
 tifully with thee. Say, if thy lines be not fallen to 
 thee in a pleasant place, and if this be not a goodly 
 heritage ? blasphemous discontent ! how absurd 
 and unreasonable 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 
 expectations from the world ! O my unthankful 
 soul, shall not a Trinity content thee ? Shall not 
 all-sufficiency suffice thee? Silence, ye murmur 
 ing thoughts, for ever. I have enough, I abound, 
 and arn full. Infiniteness and eternity is mine, and 
 what more can I ask ?" 
 
 Oh may we constantly dwell on the blissful sum 
 mit of spiritual content, boasting continually in the 
 completeness of our salvation IN HIM, and may we 
 ever seek to live up to our great and inestimable 
 privilege ! Let us live according to our rank and 
 
COMPLETE IN CHKIST. 235 
 
 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 their tables, 
 so let our daily carriage express to others the value 
 which we set upon the blessings of grace. A mur 
 mur is a rag 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 worldlings see that our Jesus is indeed a suffi 
 cient portion. As for those of us who are continu 
 ally filled with rejoicing, let us be careful that our 
 company and converse are in keeping with our 
 high position. Let our satisfaction with Christ 
 beget in us a spirit too noble to stoop to the base 
 deeds of ungodly men. Let us live among the gen 
 eration of the just; let us dwell in the courts of 
 the great King, behold his face, wait at his throne, 
 bear his name, show forth his virtues, set forth his 
 praises, advance his honour, uphold his interest, 
 and reflect 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 high arid 
 holy living ; so shall it be proved that they are 
 content with Christ, when they utterly forsake the 
 broken cisterns. 
 
 IV. The text bears within it another meaning 
 
236 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 YE are FILLED IN HIM : so Wickliffe translated it, 
 "QUtfc v ben filltfr in $nm." A possession of 
 Jesus in the soul is a filling 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 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 salva 
 tion, that it, and it alone, can fill the mind. Man 
 is a compound being, and while one portion of his 
 being may be full, another may be empty. There 
 is nothing which can fill the whole man save the 
 possession of Christ. 
 
 The man of hard calculation, the lover of facts, 
 may feast his head and starve his heart ; the senti 
 mentalist may fill up his full measure of emotion, and 
 destroy his understanding ; the poet may render 
 his imagination gigantic, and dwarf his judgment ; 
 the student may render his brain the very refine 
 ment of logic, and his conscience 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 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 237 
 
 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 Him, while He is so constituted that he is 
 adapted to its every want. Herein lies the fault 
 of all human systems of religion, they do but sub 
 jugate and enlist a portion of the man ; they light 
 up with doubtful brilliance one single chamber of 
 his soul, and leave the rest in darkness ; they cover 
 him in one part, and allow the biting frost to be 
 numb 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 lighted 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 in his house, " there is bread 
 enough and to spare." In the absence of all other 
 good things, he is an overflowing river of mercy, 
 
238 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 and when other blessings are present, they owe all 
 their value to Him. He makes our cup so full that 
 it runneth over, and so he is just what man s insa 
 tiable heart requires. It is a fact which all men 
 must acknowledge, that we are never full till we 
 run over the soul never has enough till it has 
 more than enough ; while we can contain, and 
 measure, and number our possessions, we are not 
 quite so rich as we desire. Pauperis est numerare 
 pecuswe count ourselves poor so long as we can 
 count our wealth. We are never satisfied till we 
 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 enough Tm filled to the 
 brim" 
 
 How desirable is that state of mind which makes 
 every part of the soul a spring of joys ! The most 
 of men have but one well of mirth within them ; 
 according to their temperament, they derive their 
 happiness from different powers of the mind one 
 from bold imagination, another from solitary medi 
 tation, 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 waters cov 
 er the sea, so has Divine grace flooded every por 
 tion of his being. He has no " aching void," no 
 "salt land, and not inhabited," no " clouds without 
 rain ;" but where once were disappointment and 
 
COMPLETE IN CHRIST. 239 
 
 discontent, there are now " pleasures for evermore," 
 for the soul is " filled in Him." 
 
 Seek then, beloved Christian reader, to know 
 more and more of Jesus. Think not that thou art 
 master of the science of Christ crucified. Thou 
 knowest enough of him to be supremely blest ; but 
 thou art even now but at the beginning. Notwith 
 standing all thou hast learned of him, 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 degree in the sacred college. Thou hast but 
 dipped the sole of thy foot in that stream wherein 
 the glorified are now swimming. Thou art but a 
 gleaner thou hast not at present handled the 
 sheaves with which the ransomed return to Zion. 
 King Jesus hath not showed thee all the treasures 
 of his house, nor canst thou more than guess the 
 value of the least of his jewels. Thou hast at this 
 moment a very faint idea of the glory to which thy 
 Redeemer has 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 inheritance, the land is before thee, 
 walk through and survey the lot of thine inherit 
 ance ; but this know, that until thou hast washed 
 in Jordan, thou shalt be but as a beginner, not only 
 in the whole science of Divine love, but even in 
 this one short but comprehensive lesson, " COMPLETE 
 ra HIM." 
 
TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 
 
 FRIEND, "We will venture one assertion, in the 
 full belief that thou canst not deny it tJiou art not 
 entirely satisfied. Thou art one of the weary-foot 
 ed seekers of a joy which thou wilt never find out 
 of Christ. Oh ! let this chapter teach thee to fore 
 go 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 un 
 less 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 experience 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, 
 He will fill thee, satisfy thee, enrich thee, and glad 
 den thee. Oh ! let thy friend beseech thee, " Taste 
 and see that the Lord is good." 
 
 840 
 
VII. 
 
 LOVE TO JESUS. 
 
 " Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest tht I lot* 
 thee." JOHN xxi. 17. 
 
 CHRIST rightly known is most surely Christ be 
 loved. No sooner do we discern his excellencies, 
 behold his glories, and partake of his 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 person. 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 a 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 
 ) is yet a stranger to the blood of sprinkling. 
 11 
 
242 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. \ 
 
 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 hirt 
 and desire after him. 
 
 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 righteousness, 
 to its own joy and the Lord s glory. It is a prin 
 ciple, active and strong, which exercises itself 
 nnto godliness, and produces abundantly things 
 which are lovely and of good repute. Some of 
 these we intend to mention, earnestly 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 
 one knitting the heart to Jesus, and the other con 
 forming us to his image. This is an excellent sum 
 mary ; 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 unreserv 
 edly to the Lord s service. 
 
 Dr. Doddridge has recommended a solemn cove- 
 
LOYE TO JESUS. 243 
 
 nant between 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 devot 
 ing themselves in very deed unto the Lord, and 
 have reaped no little benefit from the re-perusal of 
 that solemn document when they have afresh re 
 newed the act of dedication. The writer of the 
 present volume conceives that burial with Christ 
 in Baptism is a far more scriptural and expressive 
 sign of dedication ; but he is not inclined to deny 
 his brethren the liberty of confirming that act by 
 the other, if it seem good unto them. The remarks 
 of John Newton upon this subject are so cautious 
 and sententious,* that we cannot forbear quoting 
 them at length : " Many judicious persons have 
 differed in their sentiments with respect to the pro 
 priety or utility of such written engagements. 
 They are usually entered into, if at all, in an early 
 stage of profession, when, though the heart is warm, 
 there has been little actual experience of its deceit- 
 fulness. In the day when the Lord turns our 
 mourning into joy, and speaks peace, by the blood 
 of his cross, to the conscience burdened by guilt and 
 fear, resolutions are formed which, though honest 
 and sincere, prove, like Peter s promise to our Lord, 
 too weak to withstand the force of subsequent 
 
 * See "Life of Grimshaw," p. 13. 
 
\ 
 
 244 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 unforeseen temptation. Such vows, made in too 
 much dependence upon our own strength, not only 
 occasion a farther discovery of our weakness, but 
 frequently give the enemy advantage to terrify 
 and distress the mind. Therefore, some persons, 
 of more mature experience, discountenance the 
 practice as legal and improper. But, as a scaffold, 
 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 work so many 
 young converts have been helped by expedients 
 which, when their judgments are more ripened, 
 and their faith more confirmed, are no longer ne 
 cessary. Every true believer, of course, ought 
 to devote himself 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 done it in writing can look back upon 
 the transaction with thankfulness to the end of life, 
 recollecting it as a season of peculiar solemnity 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 bruised reed, nor quench the smok 
 ing flax, accepts and ratifies the desire ; and merci 
 fully pardons the mistakes which they discover, as 
 they attain to more knowledge of him and of them 
 selves. And they are encouraged, if not warranted 
 to make their surrender in this manner, bj the 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 245 
 
 words of the prophet Isaiah : One shall say, I am 
 the Lord s, and another shall call himself by the 
 name of Jacob, and another shall subscribe with 
 his hand to the Lord, and surname himself by the 
 name of Israel. " * 
 
 Whatever view we may take of the form of con 
 secration, we must all agree that the deed itself is 
 absolutely necessary as a first fruit of the Spirit, 
 and that where it is absent there is none of the love 
 of which we are treating. We are also all of us in 
 union upon 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 accep 
 tance, and constant reliance upon the Holy Spirit 
 for the fulfilment of our vows. We must give our 
 selves to Jesus, to be his, to honour and to obey, if 
 necessary, even unto death. We must be ready 
 with Mary to break the alabaster box, with Abra 
 ham to offer up our Isaac, with the apostles to re 
 nounce 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 re 
 tain a portion of the price, like Ananias, nor love 
 this present world with Demas, if we be the genu- 
 
 * Isa. xliv. 5. 
 
24:6 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 ine followers of the Lamb. We consecrate OUT 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 obli 
 gation. They can scarce afford a fragment 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 be an 
 abundant satisfaction of all the claims of heaven. 
 Can such men be honest in their professions of at 
 tachment to the Lamb ? Was their dedication a 
 sincere one ? Do they not afford us grave suspi 
 cion of hypocrisy ? Could they live in such a 
 fashion if their hearts were right with God ? Can 
 they have any just idea of the Saviour s deserv- 
 ings ? Are their hearts really renewed ? We leave 
 them to answer for themselves ; but we must en 
 treat 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 most 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 profession entail a fearful punish- 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 24:7 
 
 ment upon the soul for ever ? And is lie not false 
 who serves not the Lord with all his might ? Is it 
 a little thing to be branded as a robber of God ? Is 
 it a trifle to break our vows with the Almighty? 
 Shall a man mock his Maker, and go unpunished ? 
 And how shall he abide the day of the wrath of 
 God? 
 
 May God make us ever careful that, by his Holy 
 Spirit s aid, we may be able to live unto him as 
 those that are alive from the dead ; and since in 
 many things we fall short of his perfect will, let us 
 humble ourselves, and devoutly seek the moulding 
 of his hand to renew us day by day. We ought 
 ever to desire a perfect life as the result of full con 
 secration, even though we shall often groan that 
 " it is not yet Attained." Our prayer should be 
 
 " Take my soul and body s powers ; 
 Take my memory, mind, and will ; 
 All my goods, and all my hours ; 
 All I know, and all I feel ; 
 All I think, or speak, or do ; 
 Take my heart but make it new." * 
 
 2. Love to Christ will make us " coy and tender 
 to offend" We shall be most careful lest the Sa 
 viour 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 there- 
 
 * C. Wesley. 
 
248 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 fore watch every movement in the family, that no 
 thing may disturb the quiet we desire him to 
 enjoy. How frequently do we apologise for the 
 homeliness of our fare, our own apparent inatten 
 tion, the forgetfulness of our servants, or the rude 
 ness of our children. If we suppose him to be 
 uncomfortable, how readily will we disarrange our 
 household to give him pleasure, and how disturbed 
 are we at the least symptom that he is not satisfied 
 with our hospitality. We are grieved if our words 
 appear cold towards him, or our acts imkind. Wo 
 would sooner that he should grieve us than that we 
 should displease him. Surely we should not treat 
 our heavenly Friend worse than our earthly ac 
 quaintance ; but we should sedulously endeavour to 
 please Him in all things who pleased not himself. 
 Such is the influence of real devotion to our pre 
 cious Redeemer, that the more the mind is per 
 vaded 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 be 
 ginnings of sin. He will often be afraid to put one 
 foot before another, lest he should tread upon for 
 bidden ground ; he will tremble to speak, lest his 
 words should not be ordered aright ; he will be 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 24:9 
 
 timid in the world, lest he should be surprised into 
 transgression ; and even in his holy deeds he will 
 be watchful over his heart, lest he should mock his 
 Lord. This feeling of fear lest we should " slip 
 with our feet," is a precious feature of true spi 
 ritual life. It is much to be regretted that it is so 
 lightly prized by many, in comparison with the 
 more martial virtues ; for, despite its apparent insig 
 nificance, it is one of the choicest fruits of the Spi 
 rit, and its absence is one of the most deplorable 
 evidences of spiritual decay. A heedless spirit is 
 a curse to the soul ; a rash, presumptuous conver 
 sation will eat as doth a canker. " Too-bold " was 
 never Too-wise nor Too-loving. Careful walking is 
 one of the best securities of safe and happy stand 
 ing. It is solemn cause for doubting when we arc 
 indifferent in our behaviour to our best Friend. 
 When the new creature is active, it will be indie* 
 nant at the very name of sin ; it will condemn h 
 as the murderer of the Redeemer, and wage as 
 fierce a war against it as the Lord did with Ama- 
 leck. 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 heart. 
 We shall hate iniquity simply because Jesus hates 
 it. A good divine * writes : " If any pretend 
 unto an assurance of forgiveness through the me- 
 
 * John Brine. 
 11* 
 
250 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 rits 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 
 abhorreth 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 Sa 
 viour. The believer dares not admit a rival into his 
 heart, knowing that this would grievously offend 
 the King. The simplest way of preventing an ex 
 cessive love of the creature is to set all our affection 
 upon the Creator. Give thy whole heart to thy 
 Lord, and thou canst not idolize the things of earth, 
 for thou wilt have nothing left wherewith to wor 
 ship them. 
 
 3. If we love the Lord Jesus we shall he obedient 
 to his commands. False, vain, and boasting pre 
 tenders to friendship with Christ think it enough 
 to talk fluently of him ; but humble, sincere, and 
 
 
 
 * James Hamilton. 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 251 
 
 faithful lovers of the Lord are not content with 
 words they must be doing the will of their Mas 
 ter. As the affectionate wife obeys because she 
 loves her husband, so does the redeemed soul de 
 light in keeping the commands of Jesus, although 
 compelled by no force but that of love. This di 
 vine principle will render every duty pleasant ; yea, 
 when the labour is in itself irksome, this heavenly 
 grace will quicken us in its performance by remind 
 ing 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 in 
 fuses not the mere act, but the very spirit of obe 
 dience, inclining the inmost heart to feel that its 
 new-born nature cannot but obey. True, old cor 
 ruption 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 
 perpetual and violent contest the flesh lusting 
 against the spirit, and the spirit striving against 
 the flesh. We are willing to serve God when we 
 love his Son : there may be obstacles, but no un 
 willingness. We would be holy even as God is 
 holy, and perfect even as our Father which is in 
 heaven is perfect. And to proceed yet further, 
 love not only removes all unwillingness, but 
 inspires the soul with a delight in the service of 
 
252 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 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 joyfully acknowledge the 
 high honour which it receives by obedience to its 
 Lord. He counts it not only his reasonable, but 
 his delightful service, to be a humble and submis 
 sive disciple of his gracious Friend. He would be 
 unhappy if he had no opportunity of obedience 
 his love requires channels for its fulness ; he would 
 pray for work if there were none, for he includes 
 his duties among his privileges. In the young 
 dawn of true religion this is very observable 
 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 wander 
 ings, 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 flight, 
 now folded in sloth? Is our Redeemer less de 
 serving ? 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 " How is the much fine gold become 
 dim 1 How has the glory departed I" 
 
 * Seneca. 
 
LOTE TO JESUS. 253 
 
 4. Love to Christ will impel us to defend him 
 against his foes. 
 
 " If any touch my friend, or his 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 should be dishonoured. 
 This is no more than Jesus has a right to expect. 
 Would not he be a sorry brother who should hear 
 me insulted and slandered, and yet be dumb? 
 "Would not he be destitute of affection who would 
 allow the character of his nearest relative to be 
 trampled in the dust without a struggle on his be 
 half ? And is not he a poor style of Christian who 
 would calmly submit to hear 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 be 
 hold. We would not, like Peter, smite his ene 
 mies with 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 fire of Elias 
 upon the guilty blasphemers ! or when our more 
 
 * Herbert. 
 
254 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 carnal heat has subsided, how have we wept, even 
 to the sobbing of a child, at the reproach cast upon 
 his most hallowed name ! Many a time we have 
 been ready to burst 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 con 
 fidence, against which the attacks of revilers are 
 utterly powerless. Overthrown in argument, they 
 overcome by faith ; covered with contempt, they 
 think it all joy if they may but avert a solitary 
 stain from the escutcheon of their Lord. " Call 
 me what thou wilt," says the believer, " but speak 
 not ill of my Beloved. Here, plough these shoul 
 ders 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 Master s name; and though his 
 answer may be worded with holy caution, you will 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 255 
 
 not fail to discover in it enough of that determined 
 resolution which, by the blessing of the Holy Spi 
 rit, will enable him to stand fast in the evil day. 
 He may be careful to reply to such a question, lot 
 he should be presumptuous ; but should he stand 
 like the three holy children before an enraged 
 tyrant, in the very mouth of a burning fiery fur 
 nace, his answer, 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 he will deli 
 ver us out of thy hand, O king ! But if not, be it 
 known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve 
 thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou 
 hast set up." 
 
 In some circles it is believed that in the event of 
 another 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. Real piety will as well endure 
 the fire in one century 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 day be called to the stake, will die as 
 
256 THE SAINT AND HIS 6AVIOUR. 
 
 readily as any 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. 
 We may be weak in grace, but grace is not weak : 
 it is still omnipotent, and able to endure the trying 
 day. 
 
 There is one form of this jealousy for the honour 
 of the cross which will ever distinguish the 
 devout Christian : he will tremble lest he himself, 
 by word or deed, by omission of duty or commis 
 sion of sin, should dishonour the holy religion 
 which he has professed. He will hold perpetual 
 controversy with " sinful self" on this account, 
 and will loathe himself when he has inadvertently 
 given occasion to the enemy to blaspheme. The 
 King s favourite will be sad if, by mistake or care 
 lessness, he has been the abettor of traitors : he 
 desires to be beyond reproach, that his Monarch 
 may suffer no disgrace from his courtier. Nothing 
 has injured the cause of Christ more than the in 
 consistencies of his avowed friends. Jealousy for 
 
 * Madame Guiou. 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 257 
 
 the honour of Christ is an admirable mark of 
 grace. 
 
 5. A firm attachment to the person of Christ will 
 create a constant anxiety to promote his cause. "With 
 some it has produced that burning zeal which ena 
 bled them to endure banishment, to brave dangers, 
 and to forsake comforts, in order to evangelize an 
 ungrateful people, among whom they were not un 
 willing to suffer persecution, or even death, so that 
 they might but enlarge the borders of Immanuel s 
 land. This has inspired the laborious evangelist 
 with inexhaustible strength to proclaim 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 stirred up the host 
 of God, 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 con 
 cerning the progress of the truth. The man whose 
 soul is saturated with grateful affection to his cru 
 cified Lord will weep when the enemy seems to get 
 an advantage ; he will water his couch with tears 
 when he sees a declining church ; he will lift up 
 his voice like a trumpet to arouse the slumbering, 
 and with his own hand will labour day and night 
 to build up the breaches of Zion ; and should his 
 efforts be successful, with what joyous gratitude 
 
258 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 will he lift up his heart unto the King of Israel, 
 extolling him as much yea, more for mercies 
 given to the Church than for bounties conferred 
 upon himself. How diligently and indefatigably 
 will he labour for his Lord, humbly conceiving 
 that he cannot 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 Is- 
 sachar, who was described as " a strong ass crouch 
 ing down between two burdens," too lazy to per 
 form the works of piety so imperatively demanded 
 at our hands : but the reason of this sad condition 
 is not that fervent love is unable to produce activi 
 ty, but that such are deplorably destitute of that 
 intense affection which grace begets in the soul. 
 
 Love to Christ smoothes the path of duty, and 
 wings the feet to travel it : it is the bow which im 
 pels the arrow of obedience ; it is the mainspring 
 moving the wheels of d,nty ; it is the strong arm 
 tugging the oar of diligence. Love is the marrow 
 of the bones of fidelity, the blood in the veins of 
 piety, the sinew of spiritual strength yea, the life 
 of sincere devotion. He that hath love can no more 
 be motionless than the aspen in the gale, the sere 
 leaf in the hurricane, or the spray in the tempest. 
 As well may hearts cease to beat, as love to labour. 
 Love is instinct with activity, it cannot be idle ; it 
 is full of energy, it cannot content itself with lit- 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 259 
 
 ties : it is the well-spring of heroism, and great 
 deeds are the gushinga of its fountain ; it is a giant 
 it heapeth mountains upon mountains, and thinks 
 the pile but little ; it is a mighty mystery, for it 
 changes bitter into sweet ; it calls death life, and 
 life death, and it makes pain less painful than en 
 joyment. Love has a clear eye, but it can see only 
 one thing it is blind to every interest but that of 
 its Lord ; it seeth things in the light of his glory, 
 and weigheth actions in the scales of his honour ; it 
 counts royalty but drudgery if it cannot reign for 
 Christ, but it delights in servitude as much as in 
 honour, if it can thereby advance the Master s king 
 dom ; its end sweetens all its means ; its object 
 lightens its toil, and removes its weariness. Love, 
 with refreshing influence, girds up the loins of the 
 pilgrim, so that he forgets fatigue ; it casts a shad 
 ow for the wayfaring man, so that he feels not the 
 burning heat ; and it puts the bottle to the lip of 
 thirst. Have not we found it so ? And, under 
 the influence of love, are we not prepared by the 
 Spirit s sacred aid to do or suffer all that thought 
 can suggest, as being likely to promote his hon 
 our? 
 
 He who desires not the good of the kingdom is no 
 friend to the king ; so he who forgets the interests 
 
 of Zion can scarce be a favourite with her Prince. 
 
 v 
 
 We wish prosperity in estate and household to all 
 those in whom we delight ; and if we take pleasure 
 
260 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 in Jesus, we shall pray for the peace of Jerusalem, 
 and labour for her increase. 
 
 May " the Father of lights " give unto his 
 Church more love to her Head, then will she be 
 zealous, valiant, and persevering, and then shall her 
 Lord be glorified. 
 
 6. It is a notable fact that fervent love to Jesus 
 will enable us to endure anything he is pleased to 
 lay upon us. Love is the mother of resignation : 
 we gladly receive buffeting and blows from Jesus 
 when our heart is fully occupied with his love. 
 Even as a dearly-cherished friend does but delight 
 us when he uses freedoms with us, or when he 
 takes much liberty in our house so Jesus, when 
 we love him heartily, will never offend us by aught 
 that he may do. Should he take our gold, we 
 think his hand to be a noble coffer for our wealth ; 
 should he remove our joys, we reckon it a greater 
 bliss to lose than gain, when his will runs in such 
 a channel. Ay, should he smite us very sorely, we 
 shall turn to his hand and kiss the rod. To believe 
 that Christ has done it, is to extract the sting of an 
 affliction. We remember to have heard a preacher 
 at a funeral most beautifully setting forth this truth 
 in parable. He spoke thus : " A certain noble 
 man had a spacious garden, which he left to the 
 care of a faithful servant, whose delight it was to 
 train the creepers along the trellis, to water the 
 seeds in the time of drought, to support the stalks 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 261 
 
 of the tender plants, and to do every work which 
 could render the garden a Paradise of flowers. 
 One morning he rose with joy, expecting to tend 
 his beloved flowers, and hoping to find his favour 
 ites increased in beauty. To his surprise, he found 
 one of his choicest beauties rent from its stem, and, 
 looking around him, he missed from every bed the 
 pride of his garden, the most precious of his bloom 
 ing flowers. Full of grief and anger, he hurried 
 to his fellow-servants, and demanded who had thus 
 robbed him of his treasures. They had not done 
 it, and he did not charge them with it ; but he 
 found no solace for his grief till one of them re 
 marked : < My lord was walking in the garden this 
 morning, and I saw him pluck the flowers and carry 
 them away. Then truly he found he had no cause 
 for his trouble. He felt it was well that his master 
 had been pleased to take his own, and he went 
 away, smiling at his loss, because his lord had taken 
 them. So," said the preacher, turning to the 
 mourners, " you have lost one whom you regarded 
 with much tender affection. The bonds of endear 
 ment have not availed for her retention upon earth. 
 I know your wounded feelings when, instead of 
 the lovely form which was the embodiment of all 
 that is excellent and amiable, you behold nothing 
 but ashes and corruption. But remember my 
 beloved, THE LORD hath done it. HE hath re 
 moved the tender mother, the affectionate wife, 
 
262 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 the inestimable friend. I say again, remember 
 your own Lord has done it ; therefore do 
 not murmur, or yield yourselves to an excess of 
 grief." There was much force as well as beauty in 
 the simple allegory : it were well if all the Lord s 
 family had grace to practise its heavenly lesson, in 
 all times of bereavement and affliction. 
 
 Our favourite master of quaint conceits * has 
 singularly said in his poem entitled " Unkindness" 
 
 " My friend may spit upon my curious floor." 
 
 True, most true, our Beloved may do as he pleases 
 in our house, even should he break its ornaments 
 and stain its glories. Come in, thou heavenly 
 guest, even though each footstep on our floor should 
 crush a thousand of our earthly joys. Thou art thy 
 self more than sufficient recompence for all that 
 thou canst take away. Come in, thou brother of 
 our souls, even though thy rod come with thee. 
 We would rather have thee, and trials with thee, 
 than lament thine absence even though surrounded 
 with all the wealth the universe can bestow. 
 
 The Lord s prisoner in the dungeon of Aberdeen 
 thus penned his belief in the love of his "sweet 
 Lord Jesus," and his acquiescence in his Master s 
 will : " Oh, what owe I to the file, to the hammer, 
 to the furnace, of my Lord Jesus ! who hath now 
 let me see how good the wheat of Christ is, which 
 
 * Herbert. 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 263 
 
 goeth through his mill, to be made bread for his own 
 table. Grace tried is better than grace, and more 
 than grace it is glory in its infancy. When Christ 
 blesses his own crosses with a tongue, they breathe 
 out Christ s love, wisdom, kindness, and care of us. 
 Why should I start at the plough of my Lord, that 
 maketh deep furrows upon my soul ? I know that 
 He is no idle husbandman ; He purposeth a crop 
 Oh, that this white, withered lea-ground were made 
 fertile to bear a crop for him, by whom it is so 
 painfully dressed, and that this fallow-ground were 
 broken up ! "Why was I (a fool !) grieved that He 
 put his garland and his rose upon my head the 
 glory and honour of his faithful witnesses ? I de 
 sire now to make no more pleas with Christ. Ver 
 ily, He hath not put me to a loss by what I suffer 
 ed ; He oweth me nothing ; for in my bonds how 
 sweet and comfortable have the thoughts of Him 
 been to me, wherein 1 find a sufficient recompence 
 of reward !" 
 
 7. To avoid tiring the reader with a longer list 
 of " the precious fruits put forth by the Sun " of 
 love, we will sum up all in the last remark that 
 the gracious soul will labour after an entire anni 
 hilation of selfishness, and a complete absorption 
 into Christ of its aims, joys, desires, and hopes. 
 The highest conceivable state of spirituality is pro 
 duced by a concentration of all the powers and pas 
 sions of the soul upon the person of Christ. We 
 
264 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 have asked a great thing when we have begged to 
 be wholly surrendered to be crucified. It is the 
 highest stage of manhood to have no wish, no 
 thought, no desire, but Christ to feel that to die 
 were bliss, if it were for Christ that to live in 
 penury, and woe, and scorn, and contempt, and mis 
 ery, 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 Master s hand is guiding us according to 
 his will ; or, rather, to feel that though like the dia 
 mond, we must be exercised with sharp tools, yet 
 we care not how sharply 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 up 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 wouldst 
 live in me, that the life I live in the flesh may not 
 be my life, but thy life in me ; that I may say with 
 emphasis, as Paul did, " For me to live is Christ." 
 A man who has attained this high position has 
 indeed " entered into rest." To him the praise or 
 the censure of men is alike contemptible, for he has 
 learned to look upon the one as unworthy of his 
 
LOVE TO JE8TT8. 265 
 
 pursuit, and the other as beneath his regard. He 
 is no longer vulnerable since he has in himself no 
 separate sensitiveness, but has united his whole be 
 ing with the cause and person of the Redeemer. 
 As long as there is a particle of selfishness remain 
 ing in us, it will mar our 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 happiness. The soul of the believer will 
 always pant for this serene condition of passive sur 
 render, and will riot content itself until it has thor 
 oughly plunged itself into the sea of divine love. 
 Its normal condition is that of complete dedication, 
 and it esteems every deviation from such a state as 
 a plague-mark and a breaking forth of disease. 
 Here, in the lowest valley of self-renunciation, the 
 believer walks upon a very pinnacle of exaltation ; 
 bowing himself, he knows that he is rising immea 
 surably 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 may 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 himself in the glories of his 
 sovereign and Saviour. Proud men hope that the 
 
 12 
 
266 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 names of others shall but be remembered 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. 
 
 Heaven is a state of entire acquiescence in the 
 will of God, and perfect sympathy with his pur 
 poses ; it is, therefore, easy to discern that the desires 
 we have just been describing are true earnests of 
 the inheritance, and sure signs of preparation for it. 
 
 And now, how is it with the reader ? Is he a 
 lover of Jesus in verity and truth ? or does he con 
 fess that these signs 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 grace 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 affection for Jesus, although they are indeed 
 his faithful friends. Permit us to address such with 
 a word of consolation. 
 
 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 you are not right in heart towards 
 Christ. "What is then your reason for such a sus- 
 
LOVE TC JESUS. 267 
 
 picion ? You reply that your excess of attachment 
 towards your friends and relatives is proof that you 
 are not sincere, for. if you loved Jesus truly, you 
 would love him more than these. You word your 
 complaint thus : " I fear I love the creature more 
 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 be 
 lieve that I am still carnal, and the love of God 
 doth not inhabit my heart." 
 
 Far be it from us to plead the cause of sin, or 
 extenuate the undoubted fault which you thus com 
 mit ; 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 family of God. For if our 
 love is to be measured by its temporary violence, 
 we fear there is not one among the saints who has 
 not at some time or other had an excessive love to 
 the creature, and who has not, therefore, upon such 
 reasoning, proved himself to be a hypocrite. Let 
 it be remembered, therefore., that the strength of 
 affection is rather to be measured by the hold it has 
 upon the heart, than by the heat it displays at casu 
 al times and seasons. Flavel very wisely observes, 
 " As rooted malice argues a stronger hatred than a 
 sudden though more violent passion, so we must 
 measure our love, not by a violent motion of it, now 
 and then, but by the depth of the root and the con- 
 
268 THE 8AJNT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 stancy of its actings. Because David was so pas 
 sionately moved for Absalom, Joab concludes that 
 if he had lived, and all the people died, it would 
 have pleased him well ; but that was argued more 
 like a soldier than a logician." 
 
 If your love be constant in its abidings, faithful 
 in its actings, and honest in its character, you need 
 not distrust it on account of certain more burning 
 heats, which temporarily and wickedly inflame the 
 mind. Avoid these as sinful, but do not therefore 
 doubt the truthfulness of your attachment to your 
 Master. True grace may be in the soul without 
 being apparent, for, as Baxter truly observes, "grace 
 is never apparent and sensible to the soul but while 
 it is in action." Fire may be in the flint, and yet 
 be unseen except .when occasion shall bring it out. 
 As Dr. Sibbs observes in his Soul s Conflict, " There 
 is sometimes grief for sin in us, when we think 
 there is none ;" so may it be with love which may 
 be there, but not discoverable till some circum 
 stance shall lead to its discovery. The eminent Pu 
 ritan pertinently remarks : " You may go seeking 
 for the hare or partridge many hours, and never 
 find them while they lie close and stir not ; but 
 when once the hare betakes himself to his legs, and 
 the bird to her wings, then you see them presently. 
 So long as a Christian hath his graces in lively ac 
 tion, so long, for the most part, he is assured of them. 
 How can you doubt whether you love God in the 
 
LOYE TO JESUS. 269 
 
 act of loving ? Or whether you believe in the very 
 act of believing ? If, therefore, you would be as 
 sured whether this sacred fire be kindled in your 
 hearts, blow it up, get it into a flame, and then you 
 will know ; believe till you feel that you do believe ; 
 and love till you feel that you love." Seek to keep 
 your graces in action by living near to the author 
 of them. Live very near to Jesus, and think much 
 of his love to you : thus will your love to him be 
 come more deep and fervent. 
 
 We pause here, and pray the most gracious Fa 
 ther of all good to accept our love, as he has already 
 accepted us, in the Beloved / and we humbly crave 
 the benign influence of his Holy Spirit, that we 
 may be made perfect in love, and may glorify him 
 to whom we now present ourselves as living sacri 
 fices, holy, acceptable unto God, which is our rea 
 sonable service. 
 
 " Jesu, thy boundless love to me 
 
 No thought can reach, no tongue declare ; 
 knit my thankful heart to thee, 
 
 And reign without a rival there : 
 Thine wholly, thine alone I am ; 
 Be thou alone my constant flame 
 
 grant that nothing in my soul 
 
 May dwell, but thy pure love alone : 
 
 may thy love possess me whole, 
 My joy, my treasure, and my crown ; 
 
 Strange flames far from my heart imove ; 
 
 My every act, word, thought be love ! 
 
TO THE UNCONVERTED READER 
 
 Again we turn to thee ; and art thou still where 
 we left thee ? still without hope, still unforgiven ? 
 Surely, then, thou hast been condemning thyself 
 while reading these signs of grace in others. Such 
 experience is too high for thee, thou canst no more 
 attain unto it than a stone to sensibility ; but, re 
 member, it is not too high for the Lord. He can 
 renew thee, and make thee know the highest en- 
 j oyment of the saints. He alone can do it, therefore 
 despair of thine own strength ; but He can accom 
 plish it, therefore hope in omnipotent grace. Thou 
 art in a wrong state, and thou knowest it : how 
 fearful will it be if thou shouldst remain the same 
 until death ! Yet most assuredly thou wilt, unless 
 Divine love shall change thee. See, then, how ab 
 solutely thou art in the hands of God. Labour to 
 feel this. Seek to know the power of this dread 
 but certain fact that thou liest entirely at his 
 pleasure ; and there is nothing more likely to hum- 
 
 270 
 
LOVE TO JESUS. 271 
 
 ble and subdue thee than the thoughts which it will 
 beget within thee. 
 
 Know and tremble, hear and be afraid. Bow 
 thyself before the Most High, and confess his jus 
 tice should He destroy thee, and admire his grace 
 which proclaims pardon to thee. Think not that 
 the works of believers are their salvation ; but seek 
 first the root of their graces, which lies in Christ, 
 not in themselves. This thou canst get nowhere 
 but at the footstool of mercy from the hand of Jesus. 
 Thou art shut up to one door of life, and that door 
 is Christ crucified. Receive him as God s free gift 
 and thine undeserved boon. Renounce every oth 
 er refuge, and embrace the Lord Jesus as thine only 
 hope. Venture thy soul in his hands. Sink or 
 swim, let Him be thine only support and he will 
 never fail thee. 
 
 BELIEVE ON THE LORD JESUS CHRIST, AND THOU 
 SHALT BE SAVED. 
 
VIII. 
 LOVE S LOGIC. 
 
 " The upright love thee." SOL. SONG, i. 4. 
 
 THE motives of love are in a great degree the 
 measure of its growth. The advanced believer 
 loves his Lord for higher reasons than those which 
 move the heart of the young convert. His affec 
 tion is not more sincere or earnest, bnt it is, or 
 ought to be, more steadfast and unvarying, because 
 experience has enabled the understanding to ad 
 duce more abundant reasons for the soul s attach 
 ment. All true love to the Redeemer is acceptable 
 to him, and it is to us an infallible evidence of our 
 safety in him. We are far from depreciating the 
 value or suspecting the sincerity of the warm 
 emotions of the newly enlightened, although we 
 prefer the more intelligent and less interested 
 attachment of the well-instructed Christian. Let 
 none doubt the reality of their piety because they 
 are unable to mount to all the heights, or dive into 
 
 272 
 
273 
 
 all the depths, of that love which passeth know 
 ledge. 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 more by their honesty than by 
 their degree, and less by their intellectual than 
 by their emotional characteristics. Yet, without 
 doubt, growth in grace is as much displayed in 
 the 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 position of the cloud from which it falls. 
 It may be profitable to dwell upon the motives 
 of love for a brief season, hoping for instruction in 
 so doing. We do not pretend to enter fully into 
 the present subject; and, indeed, our space pre 
 vents us as much as our incapacity. Owen s 
 remark will be appropriate here : " Motives unto 
 the love of Christ are so great, so many, so dif 
 fused 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 much to en 
 large in the declaration of them ; much less can 
 they be represented in this short discourse, whereof 
 but a very small part is allotted unto their con 
 sideration." * 
 
 * Christologia. 
 
274: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 In enumerating some of the stages of spiritual 
 growth as indicated by higher standards of motive, 
 we pray the Holy spirit to guide our meditations, 
 giving us profitable wisdom and gracious enlight 
 enment. Let us commence in entire dependance 
 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 agony with 
 which the priceless gift was purchased, and it 
 adores the bleeding sufferer for the pains which he 
 so generously endured. Jesus is regarded as our 
 benefactor, arid the boons which we receive at his 
 hands constrain us to give him our hearts. If 
 enabled to receive all the doctrines of the Gospel, 
 we bless the name of our Kedeemer for his free 
 grace manifested in our election to eternal life; 
 for his efficacious grace exercised in calling us into 
 his kingdom ; for pardon and justification through 
 his blood and merits, and for everlasting security 
 by virtue of union with his divine person. Surely 
 
275 
 
 here is enough to create love of the highest order 
 of fervency ; and if the soul should abide for ever 
 in contemplation of these mighty acts of grace, 
 without entering upon the glorious survey of the 
 character 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 practical purpose 
 of the heavenly life. But 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 influence. This, how 
 ever, is the beginning. " I love the Lord because 
 he has heard my voice and my supplication." It 
 is his kindness toward us, rather than the gracious- 
 ness of his nature, which primarily 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 we have 
 a share in them. This thought at first 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 
 him only in his gifts, and loves him only for what 
 he has bestowed. Call this love selfish if you will, 
 but do not condemn it. The Saviour frowned not 
 
276 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 on the woman who loved much, because much had 
 been forgiven, nor did he despise the offering of 
 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 the man who should wish to eradicate such a 
 heavenly germ because of the poverty of the soil 
 in which it grew. Our love to God may even 
 be heightened by due and wise self-love. " There 
 is a sinful self-love, when either 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 desire more and more of his grace, because we 
 feel that so we shall be the more happy 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 sub 
 serve their purpose if they act as the underlying 
 ground- work of more excellent materials. If it be 
 
 * Allen s Riches of the Covenant. 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 277 
 
 a crime to be ungrateful, then thankfulness is a 
 virtue, and its issue cannot be contemptible. 
 Young beginners frequently doubt their piety, 
 because they feel but little disinterested affection 
 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 ?" is 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 tho 
 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 Re 
 deemer increases our gratitude to him for his con 
 descending regard of such insignificant 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 are in no small degree moved to 
 rapturous love of their exalted King, by the very 
 motive which some have been ready to under 
 value as selfish and unspiritual. They sing, " Thou 
 
278 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 art 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 be 
 loved, 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 discover unto thee fresh wonders and glories, 
 so that thou shalt be able to exclaim, " The half 
 has not been told rne." Let Calvary and Gethse- 
 mane 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 the lowest room is in 
 the house, and its tables shall not be 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 excel 
 lent, that nothing can compare with it. No hus 
 band, no wife nor tender-hearted mother can com 
 pete with him in affection, for his love passeth the 
 love of women. Nothing will contribute more to 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 279 
 
 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 se.a 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 beloveds be 
 side him, so the solid faith of this and the expecta 
 tion of good from him, hath a great engaging vir 
 tue to draw sinners to him." Study then his love, 
 and so inflame thine own ; for be thou ever mind 
 ful 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 from a sense of possession of Christ. " O, 
 Lord, thou art my God, early will I seek thee," is 
 the vow which results from a knowledge of our pos 
 sessing God as our own. As God we 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 the anxious soul, 
 u he must be mine or my soul can never be knit 
 
 * Exposition of Sol. Song. 
 
280 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 unto him ;" but when an interest in Jesus is per 
 ceived by the understanding, 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, de 
 spite all the sorrows of mortality, if we may have 
 grace to talk in the fashion of a full assured believer 
 when he rejoices in the plenitude of his possessions 
 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. The grant is clear and my claim is firm. 
 Who shall despoil me of it when God hath put me 
 in possession, and doth own me as the lawful heri 
 tor ? My Lord hath himself assured me that he is 
 mine, and hath bid me call his father, my father. 
 I know of a surety that the whole Trinity are mine. 
 I will be thy God is my sweet assurance. O, my 
 soul arise and take possession ; inherit thy blessed 
 ness, and cast up thy riches ; enter into thy rest, 
 and tell how the Lord hath dealt bountifully with 
 thee. I will praise thee, O my God ; my King, I 
 subject my soul unto thee. O, my Glory, in thee 
 will I boast all the day ; O, my Rock, on thee will 
 I build all my confidence. O staff of my life and 
 strength of my heart, 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-BE 
 LOVED. This is a precious experience, happy is 
 the man who enjoys it. It is the marrow of life to 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 281 
 
 read our title clear ; and it is so for this reason, 
 among others, that it creates and fosters a devout 
 ardency of affection in the soul which is the posses 
 sor of it. Let all believers seek after it. 
 
 n. Akin to the love inspired by thankfulness, 
 but rising a step higher in gracious attainments, 
 is LOVE CAUSED BY ADMIRATION of the manner in 
 which the work of the Redeemer was performed. 
 Having loved him for the deed of salvation, the 
 believer surveys the labours of his Deliverer, and 
 finds them in every part so excellent and mar 
 vellous, that he loves him with new force as he 
 meditates upon them. HE is altogether lovely 
 to the soul in every office which he was graciously 
 pleased to assume. We behold him as our King, 
 and when we see the power, the justice, and the 
 grace which attend his throne, when we witness 
 the conquest of his enemies, and remark his strong 
 defence of his friends, we cannot but adore him, 
 and exclaim, " All hail, we crown thee Lord of 
 all." If his priestly office engages our meditation, 
 it is precious to view him as the faithful High 
 Priest ; remembering the efficacy of his mediation, 
 and the prevalence of his intercession: or, if the 
 mantle of the prophet is viewed as worn by Him 
 upon whose brow the crown of empire and the 
 diadem of the priesthood are both for ever placed, 
 how becoming does it seem upon His shoulders 
 
282 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 
 
 who is wisdom s self ! In his threefold character, 
 in which all the offices are blended but none con 
 fused a ll 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 compel our wonder 
 to abide at home, since it cannot find garments 
 in which to clothe its thoughts. When the soul is 
 led by the Holy Spirit to take a clear view 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 sympathising friend, and then 
 bowing to death itself to become his Ransom, 
 is enough to stir every passion of the soul. To 
 discern him by faith as the propitiation for sin, 
 sprinkling his own blood within the vail, and nail 
 ing our sins to his cross, is a sight which never 
 fails to excite the reverent, yet rapturous admira 
 tion 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-born love. The sailors rescued by the heroic 
 daring of Grace Darling would first of all admire 
 her as their deliverer, and afterwards, when they 
 remembered her natural weakness, her philan- 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 283 
 
 thropic 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 spirit which dictated it. In fact, apart 
 from their own safety, they could scarcely avoid 
 paying homage to the virtue which shone so 
 gloriously in her noble act. Never, throughout 
 life, could they forget their personal obligation 
 to that bravest of women ; but at the same time 
 they would declare, that had it not been their lot 
 to have been rescued from the depths, they could 
 not have refused their heart s admiration of a deed 
 so heroic, though they themselves had not been 
 profited by it. We, who are saved by grace, have 
 room enough in our Redeemer s character for eter 
 nal 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, the Breaker dashing into pieces the oppo 
 sing gates of brass, the Captain routing all his 
 foes, the Brother born for adversity, 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 bo 
 
284: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 our idea of him ; and the more true our experience 
 of him, so much the more constant and unwavering 
 will be our heart s hold of him. Hence the impor 
 tance of communion with him, which is to a great 
 extent the only means of knowing him. 
 
 We would here caution the reader to make an 
 important distinction when dwelling upon the 
 phase of spiritual love now under consideration. 
 Let him carefully remember 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 sense) higher stone 
 of the building, leans entirely upon the lower one, 
 and without it is of no avail. Some pretend to 
 admire the Prophet of Nazareth, but deny him 
 to be the Son of God ; others wonder at him in his 
 divine and human natures, but cannot lay hold on 
 him as their Redeemer ; and many honour his 
 perfect example, but despise his glorious sacrifice. 
 Now, it is not love to a part of Christ which is the 
 real work of the Spirit, but it is true devotion to 
 the Christ of God in all that he is and does. Many 
 manufacture a Christ of their own, and profess 
 to love him ; but it is not respect to our own 
 anointed, but to the Lord s anointed, which 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 
 
285 
 
 volume for an hoLr and regale yourself with a 
 little of His company, then will you join with 
 the devout Hawker in his oft-repeated confession : 
 " In following thee, thou blessed Jesus, every 
 renewed discovery of thee is glorious, and every 
 new attainment most excellent. In thy person, 
 offices, character, and relations, thou art most pre 
 cious to my soul. Thou art a glorious Redeemer, a 
 glorious Head of thy Church and people ; a glorious 
 Husband, Brother, Friend, Prophet, Priest, and 
 King in thy Zion. And when I behold thee in all 
 these relative excellencies, and can and do know 
 thee, and enjoy thee, and call thee mine 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 moun 
 tains of Prey ! " * 
 
 If you are unable to obtain a view of the Man 
 of grief and love, ask him to reveal himself by 
 his Spirit, and when your prayer is heard, your 
 soul will speedily be ravished with delight. 
 
 " In manifested love explain, 
 Thy wonderful design ; 
 What meant the suffering Son of Man, 
 The streaming blood divine? 
 
 " Come thou, and to my soul reveal 
 The heights and depths of grace , 
 The wounds which all my sorrows heal, 
 That dear disfigured face : 
 
 * See his admirable Portions. 
 
286 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 " Before my eyes of faith confest, 
 Stand forth a slaughtered 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 seeking to 
 honour God, to uproot sin, to save souls, and extend 
 the kingdom of God on earth. Though the saints 
 are but the private soldiers, while Jesus is their 
 glorious Leader, yet they are in the same army, 
 and hence they have the same desire for victory. 
 From this springs an increase of love; for we cannot 
 labor with and for those whom we esteem, without 
 feeling ourselves more and more united to them. 
 We love Jesus when we are advanced in the divine 
 life, from a participation with him in the great 
 work of his incarnation. We long to see our fel 
 low-men 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 rejoice in Him as manifested to take away sin. 
 We pant for holier and happier times, and there 
 fore we adore Him as the coming Ruler of all lands, 
 who will bring a millennium with him in the day 
 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 
 
287 
 
 always have lukewarm hearts, which are at once 
 the causes and effects of their sloth. When the 
 heart is fully engaged 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 phy- 
 lanthropy lead me to yearn over dying men? Is 
 my pity excited by their miseries ? Do I pray for 
 their salvation, and labour to be the means of it ? 
 then most assuredly I shall, for this very reason, 
 reverence and love the Friend of sinners, the 
 Saviour of the lost. Am I so engrossed with the 
 idea of God s majesty, that my whole being pants 
 to manifest his glory and extol his name ? Then I 
 shall most certainly cleave unto him who glorified 
 his Father, and in whose person all the attributes 
 of Deity are magnified. If a sense of unity in 
 aim be capable of binding hosts of men into one 
 compact body, beating with one heart, and moving 
 with the same step then it is easy to believe that 
 the heavenly object in which the saints and their 
 Saviour are both united, is strong enough to form 
 a lasting bond of love between them. 
 
 Trusting that we may be enabled in our daily 
 conduct to prove this truth, we pass on to another 
 part of the subject. 
 
 IY. EXPERIENCE. Experience of the love, ten 
 derness, and faithfulness of our Lord Jesus Christ 
 will weld our hearts to him. The very thought of 
 
288 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR 
 
 the love of Jesus towards us is enough to inflame 
 our holy passions, but experience of it heats the 
 furnace seven times hotter. He has been with us 
 in our trials, cheering and consoling us, sympathis 
 ing with every groan, and regarding every tear 
 with affectionate compassion. Do we not love him 
 for this ? He has befriended us in every time of 
 need, so bounteously supplying all our wants out 
 of the riches of his fulness, that he has not suffered 
 us to lack any good thing. Shall we be unmindful 
 of such unwearying care ! He has helped us in 
 every difficulty, furnishing us with strength equal 
 to our day ; he has levelled the mountains before 
 us, and filled up the valleys ; he has made rough 
 places plain, and crooked things straight. Do we 
 not love him for this also ? In all our doubts he 
 has directed us in the path of wisdom, and led us 
 in the way of knowledge. He has not suffered us 
 to wander ; he has led us by a right way through 
 the pathless wilderness. Shall we not praise him 
 for this? He has repelled our enemies, covered 
 our heads in the day of battle, broken the teeth of 
 the oppressor, and made us more than conquerors. 
 Can we forget such mighty grace ? When our sins 
 have broken our peace, stained our garments, and 
 pierced us with many sorrows, he has restored our 
 souls, and led us in the path of righteousness for 
 his name s sake. Are we not constrained to call 
 upon all that is within us to bless his holy name? 
 
289 
 
 He has been as good as his word ; not one promise 
 has been broken, but all have come to pass. In 
 no single instance has he failed us ; he has never 
 been unkind, unmindful, or unwise. The harshest 
 strokes of his providence have been as full of love 
 as the softest embraces of his condescending fellow 
 ship. We cannot, we dare not find fault with him. 
 He hath done all things well. There is no flaw in 
 his behaviour, no suspicion upon his affection. His 
 love is indeed that perfect love which casteth out 
 fear ; the review of it is sweet to contemplation ; 
 the very remembrance of it is like ointment poured 
 forth, and the present enjoyment of it, the expe 
 rience of it at the present moment, is beyond all 
 things delightful. Whatever may be our present 
 position, it has in it peculiarities unknown to any 
 other state, and hence it affords special grounds of 
 love. Are we on the mountains? we bless him 
 that he maketh our feet like hind s feet, and mak- 
 eth us to stand upon our high places. Are we in 
 the valley ? then we praise him that his rod and 
 staff do comfort us. Are we in sickness ? we love 
 him for his gracious visitations. If we be in 
 health, we bless him for his merciful preservations. 
 At home or abroad, on the land or the sea, in 
 health or sickness, in poverty or wealth, Jesus, the 
 never-failing friend, affords us tokens of his grace, 
 and binds our hearts to him in the bonds of con 
 straining gratitude. 
 
 13 
 
290 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 It must, however, be confessed that all the 
 saints do not profit from their experience in an 
 equal measure, and none of them so much as they 
 might. All the experience of a Christian is not 
 Christian experience. Much of our time is occu 
 pied with exercises as unprofitable as they are 
 unpleasant. The progress of a traveller must not 
 be measured by the amount of his toil, unless we 
 can obtain a satisfactory proof that all his toil was 
 expended in the right path ; for let him journey 
 ever so swiftly, if his path be full of wanderings, 
 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 need not wonder if we find ourselves 
 surrounded with darkness instead of light. How 
 ever, the Lord, who graciously overrules 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 scholars, we should in the experience of a sin 
 gle day discover a thousand reasons for loving the 
 Redeemer. The most barren day in all our years 
 blossoms with remembrances of his loving-kind 
 ness, while the more memorable seasons yield a 
 hundredfold 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 
 
291 
 
 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 venera 
 ble countenance commands 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 rejoicing. As 
 a youth his love was true, but we thought it 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 bu n- 
 ing of a well-trimmed lamp. Experience, when 
 blessed by the Holy Spirit, is the saint s daily 
 income, by which he getteth rich in affection ; and 
 he who hath for a long time amassed his portion ot 
 treasure may well be conceived to be more rich 
 therein than the young 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 
 
292 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUR. 
 
 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 unfolds 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 the believer to know 
 in the most certain manner the all-sufficiency 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 trodden 
 out ; an olive-press, to extract the precious oil from 
 the gracious promises. Christ is the honeycomb, 
 but experience must suck forth the luscious drops; 
 he is frankincense, but fiery trials must burn out 
 the perfume ; he is a box of spikenard, but the 
 
293 
 
 hard hand of trouble must break the box and pour 
 forth the ointment. When this is done, when 
 Jesus is experimentally known, he is loved in a 
 higher manner than the newborn Christian can 
 aspire to talk of. Aged and mellow saints have so 
 sweet a savour of Christ in them that their conver 
 sation is like streams from -Lebanon, sweetly 
 refreshing to him who delights to hear of the glo 
 ries of redeeming love. They have tried the 
 anchor in the hour of storm, they have tested the 
 armour in the day of battle, they have proved the 
 shadow of the great rock in the burning noontide 
 in the weary land ; therefore do they talk of these 
 things, and of Him who is all these unto them, 
 with an unction and a relish 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 the 
 same pearls. May the great Illuminator sow our 
 path with light, that we may increase in knowledge 
 of the love of Christ, and in earnestness of love to 
 Christ, in proportion as we draw near to the celes 
 tial city. 
 
 We now advance to another step, which stands 
 in strict connection with the subject upon which 
 we have just meditated. 
 
 V. COMMUNION opens up another means by which 
 love is excited, and its nature affected. We love 
 
294: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 him because we have seen him, and entered into 
 fellowship with him. However true and faithful 
 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 
 intercourse with Jesus is pre-eminently a cause of 
 love, and it so infallibly quickens the affections 
 that it is impossible to live in the society of Jesus 
 without loving him. Nearness of life towards the 
 Lamb will necessarily involve greatness of love to 
 him. As nearness to the sun increases the tem 
 perature of the various planets, so close commu 
 nion with Jesus raises the heat of the affections 
 towards him. 
 
 We hope to have another opportunity of unfold 
 ing the sweetness of communion, and therefore we 
 will but notice one part of it viz., Christ s mani 
 festations, as being a mighty incentive to affection. 
 Our blessed Lord, at intervals more or less fre 
 quent, is graciously pleased to shed abroad in the 
 soul a most enchanting and rapturous sense of his 
 love. He opens the ear of the favoured saint to 
 hear the sweet canticles of the bridegroom s joy, 
 and softly he singeth his song of loves. He mani 
 fests his 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 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 295 
 
 a head, as a father, as a friend, as a kinsman, as a 
 brother, as a husband ; 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 sense 
 of the love of their dying Lord, they feel that had 
 they a heart as wide as eternity, it could not con 
 tain 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 him ? Can you not say, 
 Oh ! I get more love to him than I had before ; I 
 never approached near to him but I gained a large 
 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 glass, and are changed into the 
 same image and the image of God is love. No 
 way so ready for begetting love to Christ as a 
 
 * E. Erskine. 
 
296 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 sense of the love 0f Christ. The one is a loadstone 
 to attract the other. As fire grows by the addi 
 tion of fuel, so does our love to Christ increase by 
 renewed and enlarged discoveries of his love to us. 
 Love is love s food. If, as parents, we make known 
 our love to our children, and deal wisely with 
 them, it is but natural that their affections should 
 become more and more knit to us ; so it seems but 
 as in the common course of things that where much 
 of divine love is perceived by the soul, there will 
 be a return of affection in some degree propor 
 tionate to the measure of the manifestation. As 
 we pour water into a dry pump when we desire to 
 obtain more so must we have the love of Christ 
 imparted to the heart before we shall feel any 
 uprisings of delight in Him. Hence the import 
 ance of the apostolic prayer, that we may be able 
 to understand with all saints what is the breadth, 
 and length, and depth, and height, and to know 
 the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge. 
 Beloved fellow Christian, pray for more open dis 
 coveries of the love and loveliness of Christ, and 
 thus shall thy languid passions move more readily 
 in the paths of obedience. We have all too much 
 cause to mourn the poverty of our love ; let us not 
 be slow to seek the help of the God of Israel to 
 enable us to profit by all the condescending mani 
 festations with which the Lord sees fit to favour 
 us. 
 
297 
 
 VI. LOVE TO THE PERSON OF JESUS is a most 
 delightful state of divine life. It will be observed 
 that the Song of the Spouse, which is doubtless 
 intended to be the expression of the highest order 
 of love, is composed rather of descriptions of the 
 person of the Bridegroom than of any relation of 
 the deeds which he performed. The whole lan 
 guage of the Book of Canticles is love, but its most 
 overflowing utterances are poured forth upon the 
 sacred person of the Well-beloved. How do the 
 words succeed each other in marvellous and melo 
 dious succession when the Church pours forth 
 the fulness of its heart in praises of his beau 
 ties ! " My beloved is white and ruddy, the 
 chiefest among ten thousand. His head is as the 
 most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a 
 raven. His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the 
 rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set. 
 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers : 
 his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh. 
 His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his 
 belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires. 
 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sock 
 ets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, 
 excellent as the cedars. His mouth is most sweet : 
 yea, he is altogether lovely." * Here it is not the 
 crown, but the head* which is the theme of song; 
 
 * Sol. Song v. 10 16. 
 
 13* 
 
298 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 not the garment, but the unrobed body ; not the 
 shoes, but the feet. The song does not celebrate 
 his descent from the king of ages, nor his lordship 
 over the ministers of fire, nor his perpetual priest 
 hood, nor his unbounded sovereignty ; but it finds 
 music enough in his lips, and beauty sufficient in 
 his eyes without the glories which his high offices 
 and omnipotent grace have procured for him. 
 This indeed is true love ; though the wife regards 
 her husband s gifts, and honours his rank and titles, 
 yet she sets her affection upon his person, loves 
 him better than his gifts, and esteems him for his 
 own sake rather than for his position among men. 
 Let us here observe, lest we should be misunder 
 stood, that we do not for a moment intend to insi 
 nuate that in the earlier states of the sacred grace 
 of love, there is any lack of love to his person. 
 We know that the first gushing of the fount of 
 love is to Christ, and at all times the soul goes out 
 towards him; but we make a distinction which we 
 think will be readily perceived, between love to 
 the person, for the sake of benefits received and 
 offices performed, and love to the person for the 
 person s sake. To suppose that a believer loves 
 the office apart from the person is to suppose an 
 absurdity, but to say that he may love the person 
 apart from the office is but to declare a great fact. 
 "We love Him at all times, but only the heavenly- 
 minded love him for his own person s sake. 
 
299 
 
 What a precious subject for contemplation is the 
 glorious being who is called Emmanuel, God with 
 us, and yet " the I am," God over all !" The 
 complex person of the mediator, Jesus Christ, is 
 the centre of a believer s heart. He adores him in 
 all the attributes of his God-head, as very God of 
 very God Eternal, Infinite, Almighty, Immutable. 
 He bows before him as " God over all, blessed for 
 ever," and pays him loving homage as the everlast 
 ing Father, Prince of peace ; and at the same 
 time he delights to consider him as the infant 
 of Bethlehem, the Man of sorrows, the Son of man, 
 bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh, tempted in 
 all points like as we are, and owning kindred with 
 the children of men. As man yet God, creature 
 yet Creator, infant and Infinite, despised yet exalt 
 ed, scourged though Omnipotent, dying yet eter 
 nal, our dear Redeemer must ever be the object 
 of wondering affection. Yea, 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 me, I cannot but bless him still. He 
 is good and glorious, even though he damn me for 
 ever. I must speak well of him, even if he will 
 not permit me to hope in his mercy ; for he is g, 
 glorious Christ, and I will not deny it, though he 
 should now shut up his bowels against an unworthy 
 
300 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 creature like myself." This is the sentiment of 
 the quickened child of God, when his heart is 
 thoroughly occupied with a full and faithful view 
 of his Divine Lord. 
 
 O the savour of the name of Jesus, when heard 
 by the ear which has been opened by the Spirit ! O 
 the beauty of the person of Jesus, when seen with 
 the eye of faith by the illumination of the Holy 
 One of Israel ! As the light of the morning, when 
 the sun ariseth, as " a morning without clouds," is 
 our Well-Beloved unto us. The sight of the burn 
 ing 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 brightness. This is the 
 pomegranate which love feeds upon, 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 Herbert. 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 301 
 
 They are themselves ignorant of the divine passion 
 of love to Jesus, arid therefore the language of the 
 enraptured heart is unintelligible to them. They 
 are poor translators of love s celestial tongue who 
 think it to be at all allied with the amorous super 
 fluities uttered by carnal passions. Jesus is the 
 only one upon whom the loving believer 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, and which worldlings 
 would utterly contemn could they but listen to it. 
 Nevertheless love, like wisdom, " is justified of her 
 children." 
 
 Heaven itself, although it be a fertile land, flow 
 ing with milk and honey, can produce no fairer 
 flower than the Kose 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 
 might ever be satisfied with his love ! Let the 
 young believer seek after a clear view of the per~ 
 son of Jesus, and then let him implore the kindling 
 fire of the Holy Spirit to light 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 glory. Let 
 us love him with all our hearts, and then diligent 
 
302 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 labour and consistent conversation will be sure 
 to follow. 
 
 VII. RELATIONSHIP TO CHRIST, when fully felt 
 and realised, produces a peculiar warmth of affec 
 tion towards Him. The Holy Spirit is pleased, at 
 certain favoured seasons, to open up to the under 
 standing and reveal to the affections 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," rings in our ears like the music of Sabbath 
 bells. "We had said, like the spouse, " O that thou 
 wert as my brother!" and lo ! the wish is gratified. 
 He stands before us in all his condescension, and 
 declares he is not ashamed to call us brethren. 
 Unveiling his face, he reveals 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 affec 
 tion, and when he himself thus confesses the 
 relationship, our soul is melted at his speech. 
 That sweet name "brother" is like perfume to the 
 believer, and when he lays hold upon it, it imparts 
 its fragrance to him. "We have sometimes had 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 303 
 
 t 
 
 such a sense of satisfaction in meditation upon this 
 heavenly doctrine, that we counted all the honours 
 and glories of this world to be but loss compared 
 with the excellency 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 doc 
 trine of the relationship of Jesus roll into our soul 
 like a river, and we have been entirely carried 
 away in its wondrous torrent. Our thoughts have 
 been entirely absorbed in the one transcendently 
 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 dis 
 covered 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 
 manifestations, the claim is fully met, and the right 
 gladly acknowledged. 
 
 Another delightful relationship of the Lord 
 Jesus is that of Husband, and here he is indeed 
 to be beloved. Young Christians are married to 
 Christ, but they have not in most cases realised 
 
304: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 the gracious privilege ; but the more enlightened 
 believer rejoices in the remembrance of the mar 
 riage union of Christ and his spouse. To him the 
 affection, protection, provision, honour, and inti 
 macy involved 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 Word, and he feasts upon it 
 day and night, when the gracious Spirit is pleased 
 to enable him to lay hold upon it by faith. A 
 tranquil, confident frame will immediately result 
 from a satisfactory persuasion 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 we 
 should see the glory of it. He would have us con 
 sider him in the act of betrothing and espousing 
 his Church unto himself : " Go forth," saith he, 
 " O 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, raid 
 the joy of his soul, to take poor sinners into rela 
 tion with himself;"! and if so, it cannot fail to be 
 
 * Sol. Song. iii. 11. -j. Owen. 
 
305 
 
 an equal source of rejoicing to those who are 
 thus favoured. Meditate much on thy divine rela 
 tionships, and thine heart shall be much warmed 
 thereby. 
 
 Yin. A persuasion of our UNION to Jesus must 
 also stir up the passions 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 sub 
 stantial basis ; but our personal knowledge 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 wall not love himself? 
 ISTow, when the soul perceives the indissoluble 
 union which exists between itself and the Saviour, 
 it can no more resist the impulse of affection than 
 a man can forbear to love his own body. It is 
 doubtless a high attainment in the divine life to be 
 fully possessed with a sense of vital union to Christ, 
 and hence the love arising from it is of a peculiarly 
 rich and vehement character. Some pastures give 
 richness to the flesh of the cattle which feed upon 
 them : truly, this is a fat pasture, and the affection 
 which feedeth upon it cannot be otherwise than 
 excellent to a superlative degree. In fine, as an 
 abiding sense of oneness with the Lord is one of 
 
306 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 the sweetest works of the Spirit in the souls of the 
 elect, so the love springing therefrom is of the very 
 highest and most spiritual nature. None can sur 
 pass it ; yea, it is questionable whether so high a 
 degree of affection can be obtained 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 Jesus until 
 we have brought it to such a measure 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 fruits, let us enter, for he bids us make free 
 with all in his house ; and if there be a secret 
 place where he doth show his loves, let us hasten 
 thither 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 dip 
 ping our finger in water for the cooling of our 
 thirst ; but heaven is bathing in seas of bliss : even 
 BO our love here is but one drop of the same sub 
 stance as the waters of the ocean, but not compara 
 ble for magnitude or depth. Oh, how sweet it will 
 be to be married to the Lord Jesus, and to enjoy 
 for ever, and without any interruption, the hea 
 venly delights of his society ! Surely, if a glimpse 
 
307 
 
 of him melteth our soul, the full fruition of him 
 will be enough to burn us up with affection. It is 
 well that we shall have more noble frames in hea 
 ven than we have here, otherwise we should die 
 of love in the very land of life. An honoured 
 saint was once so ravished with a revelation of his 
 Lord s love, that feeling his mortal frame to be 
 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 bottomless well of 
 love to our lips, and drink on for ever, and yet feel 
 no weakness. Ah, that will be love indeed which 
 shall overflow our souls for ever in our Father s 
 house above ! Who can tell the transports, the 
 raptures, the amazements of delight which that 
 love shall beget in us? and who can guess the 
 sweetness of the song, or the swiftness of the obe 
 dience which will be the heavenly expressions of 
 love made perfect? E"o heart can conceive the 
 surpassing 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 distant pros 
 pect is full of joy : what must be the fruition of it? 
 To answer that question we must w T ait all the days 
 of our appointed time till our change come, unless 
 the Lord himself should suddenly appear in the 
 clouds to glorify us with himself throughout 
 eternity. 
 
308 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 Beloved fellow-heirs of the same inheritance, we 
 have thus reviewed some of the causes and phases 
 of the Christian grace of love ; let us now ask our 
 selves the question, How is it with our love ? Is it 
 hot or cold ? Is it decaying 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 it is so. Let us use 
 the various arguments of this chapter as levers for 
 lifting our heavy hearts to greater heights of affec 
 tion, 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." 
 
 It may be that the sneering critic has been 
 offended with all this discourse concerning love, 
 and has turned upon his heel, protesting with 
 vehemence that he is of a philosophic spirit, and 
 will never endure such sickly sentimentalism. To 
 him religion is thought, not emotion. It is a cold, 
 speculative, unfeeling divinity which he believes, 
 and its effects upon his mind are the reverse of 
 enthusiastic. 
 
 Reason, " heavenly Reason," is his God, and 
 Feeling must lie dormant beneath the throne of 
 his great deity. We beg to remind him that the 
 religion of the cross was intended to stir the soul 
 
LOVE S LOGIC. 309 
 
 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 pre 
 sumption that is has never been in true operation. 
 "We 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 until the ears of the heart are 
 opened. Yinet* has thus expressed himself upon 
 this subject : " Ah ! how can reason, cold reason, 
 comprehend such a thing as the substitution of the 
 innocent 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. 
 
310 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 heart, which fixes itself entirely on the love that 
 shines forth in the work of redemption ; cleaves 
 without distraction to the sacrifice of the adorable 
 victim ; lets the natural impression of that unparal 
 leled love penetrate freely, and develop itself gra 
 dually in its interior. Oh, how quickly, then, are 
 the veils torn away, and the shadows dissipated for 
 ever ! How little difficulty does he who loves find 
 in comprehending love !" To the heart all divine 
 mysteries are but simplicities, and when reason is 
 measuring the apparently inaccessible heights, love 
 is already shouting on the summit. Let tKe cold, 
 calculating worshipper of intellect reserve his 
 sneers for himself. Experience is one of the 
 highest of sciences, and the emotions claim a high 
 precedence in the experience which is from God. 
 That which these boasters contemn 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 
 "intellectual preachers" to a class of men, whose 
 passionless essays are combinations of metaphysical 
 quibbles and heretical 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 under 
 stood by a few. It is, however, no question whe- 
 
311 
 
 ther 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 be 
 in our religion a fair proportion of believing, think 
 ing, understanding, and discerning, but there must 
 be also the preponderating influences 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 tender attachment is to be making high profi 
 ciency in divine things. ^ 
 
 Look to thy love, O Christian 1 and let the car 
 nal revile thee never so much, do thou persevere 
 in seeking to walk with Christ, to feel his love, 
 and triumph in his grace. 
 
TO THE UNCONVERTED KEADEK. 
 
 FRIEND, 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 regenera 
 tion, were in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds 
 of iniquity; they were aliens from the common 
 wealth of Israel, and strangers 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 
 
 812 
 
313 
 
 were polluted in their blood, cast out in the open 
 field to perish ; they were despisers of God, in 
 league with hell, and in covenant with Death ; hut 
 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 necessi 
 ties ? * 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. He 
 that calleth upon the name of the Lord shall ~be 
 saved. Thy cries shall yet* be heard, since they 
 come from a broken heart and a contrite spirit. 
 Remember, faith in Jesus alone can give thee 
 peace. 
 
 But art thou still hard 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 ! Oh that he would break thee 
 with his hammer, and humble thee at his feet ! 
 Alas for thee, unless this be done! Oh that omni 
 potent 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 
 
 U 
 
314 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 longeth after tliee, and fain would see thee saved. 
 Oh, why art thou so indifferent 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 now come to thyself? Dost thou now 
 exclaim, " I will arise and go unto rny Father?" 
 Oh, be assured of a welcome reception, of glad 
 some entertainment, and loving acceptance. 
 
 " From the Mount of Calvary, 
 Where the Saviour deigned to die, 
 What melodious sounds I hear, 
 Bursting on my ravished ear! 
 Love s redeeming work is done ! 
 
 COME, AND "WELCOME, SINNER, COME. 
 
 " Now behold the festal board, 
 With its richest dainties stored ; 
 To thy Father s bosom press d, 
 Once again a child confess d. 
 From his house no more to roam ; 
 
 COME, AND WELCOME, SINNER, COME. 1 * 
 
IX. 
 
 JESUS IK THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 
 
 " Who passing through the valley of Baca make it a well ; the 
 rain also filleth the pools." Ps. Ixxxir. 6. 
 
 PILGRIMAGE to an appointed shrine seems to be 
 an essential part of most religions. The tribes of 
 Israel made yearly journeys to Jerusalem, that at 
 one great altar they might sacrifice unto the Lord 
 their God. Borrowing the idea, probably, from 
 the Jews, we find false religions inculcating the 
 same. The disciples of Brahma are required to 
 undertake long and painful journeys to the temple 
 of Juggernaut, or to the banks of their sacred 
 river, the Ganges. The Mahometan has his Kebla 
 of worship ; and, if he be thoroughly a devout 
 follower of the false prophet, he must, once in his 
 life, offer his petitions at Mecca. And who has 
 not heard of the palmer plodding his weary way 
 to the Holy Sepulchre, or of the Canterbury pil 
 grim going to the tomb of Thomas a Becket ? 
 
 815 
 
316 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 But the religion of God, the revelation of our 
 most merciful Father, does not thus deal with man. 
 It prescribes no earthly pilgrimage. It knows 
 nothing of local restrictions. It declares that 
 " neither in this mountain 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 
 Christianity. Every Christian is mystically a pil 
 grim. His rest is not here. He is not a citizen 
 of earth. Here he has no abiding city. He jour 
 neys to a shrine 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- 
 besprinkled way. Thus the geography of Christian 
 life becomes an interesting study. To enter the 
 wicket-gate, to sit in the arbour on the hill-side, 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 Beulah, yields 
 far sweeter pleasure than fairy dreams, or tales 
 coloured by fancy, whispered by the lips of music. 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 317 
 
 There are many fair and enchanting spots in the 
 highway of salvation 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 Yalley 
 of the Shadow of Death, nor to approach the moun 
 tains 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 accompany us in all 
 our journeyings, and is the consolation of our souls 
 in periods of blackest woe. After surveying the 
 Valley of Baca, noticing the toilsome effort of the 
 pilgrims in digging wells therein, and remarking 
 the heavenly supply with which the pools are filled, 
 we shall consider the grace of our Lord Jesus as 
 exhibited to his people in their sorrowful passage 
 through this Yale of Tears. 
 
 I. THE YALLEY OF BAG A. The best description 
 given of the Yalley of Baca seems to be, that it 
 was a defile through which a portion of the tribes 
 had to pass on their journey to the city of their 
 solemnities. It was a place noted for its dryness, 
 and therefore pits were digged therein for the pur 
 pose of holding rain-water for the thirsty wayfarers 
 as they passed through it. But, probably, the 
 Psalmist looked not so much at the place as at 
 its name, which signifies "Yalley of Sorrow, or 
 
818 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 Tears." The Septuagint translates it, " Yalley of 
 Lamentation," and the Latin Yulgate, "Yale of 
 Tears." We may therefore read the verse thus : 
 " Who passing through the vale of Tears make it a 
 well." &c. Of this valley we may observe, first, 
 It is much frequented. The way to Zion lies 
 through its glooms. Many of God s chosen ones 
 are carried from the breast to glory, and thus 
 escape this dreary place, but all the rest of God s 
 children irmst pass through it. Frequent are their 
 sojourning in this " house of mourning." Not once 
 nor twice, but many a time must they tread this 
 valley. As numerous 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 with 
 out with lamentations. They can just dimly recol 
 lect happier days, but those are past long ago. 
 They have for some time been the children of 
 grief. They seldom eat 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 head, arid, Jonah- 
 like, they think they do well to be angry even unto 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 319 
 
 death. A haze, dark and heavy, hangs like a pall 
 before their eyes, and clothes life s scenery with 
 sadness and gloom. Some are associated with 
 ungodly partners, by whose unkindness their days 
 are made bitter, and their Jives a burden. Yarious 
 are the causes of grief. The chains of melancholy 
 differ in their size and material. Bound in afflic 
 tion 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 "acquaint 
 ed 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 and 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, " O that my grief were 
 
320 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 Almignty ; 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 path 
 way. 
 
 Secondly, this valley is exceedingly unpleasant 
 to flesh and blood. We love to ascend the moun 
 tains of myrrh and hills of frankincense, rather 
 than to descend into this dismal region. For tri 
 bulation is not joyous but grievous. Disguise sor 
 row as we may, it is sorrow still. ]STo 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 consider 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 created 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. ISTo fruit of sweet 
 ness grows here. It well answers the description 
 of Watts : 
 
 " Its yields us no supply, 
 No cheering fruits, no wholesome trees, 
 Nor streams of living joy." 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 321 
 
 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, because the way is rough 
 and rugged. In some parts of the Christian jour 
 ney 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 more difficult places ; but notwithstanding this 
 aid, journeying through it is very rough 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 be 
 neath the ordinary level ; some parts of it, indeed, 
 are tunnelled through rocks of anguish. A fre 
 quent cause of its darkness is that on either side 
 of the valley there are high mountains, called the 
 mountains of 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 
 mentioned of this valley : 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 account of the length of the way. Through the 
 
322 THE SAINT AND KIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 darkness of the place it seems as though it had no 
 termination, for, although 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 Egyptian dark 
 ness which may be felt, and, like solid piles of 
 ebony, at such times it appears to have an ada 
 mantine 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 suggestions. 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 all 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. Con- 
 tinned 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. Un 
 broken success often leads to an undervaluing of 
 mercies and forgetfulness of the giver; but the 
 withdrawal of the sunshine leads us to look for the 
 sun. 
 
 Fourthly, it is a very safe place. We are not so 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 323 
 
 likely 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 the valley of Baca. Few 
 Christians backslide while under the rod ; 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 moun 
 tain: so are many things learned in adversity 
 which the prosperous man dreams not of. We 
 need affliction as the trees need winter, that we 
 may collect sap and nourishment for future blos 
 soms and fruit. Sorrow is as necessary for the soul 
 as medicine is to the body : 
 
 " The path of sorrow, and that path alone, 
 Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown." 
 
 The benefits to be derived in the vale of tears are 
 greater than, its horrors, and far outnumber its dis 
 advantages. 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 
 cloud. 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 pil 
 grim has here been made rich to all the intents of 
 
324 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 bliss, and here have others had their heavenly 
 wealth most marvellously increased. 
 But we proceed to observe 
 
 II. THE TOILSOME EFFORT spoken of in the words 
 at the head of the chapter " They make it a 
 well," &c. When Eastern Shepherds travel, 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 trans 
 lates it " They, travelling through the valley of 
 weeping, will dig a well," &c. This teaches us 
 that 
 
 1. Comfort may be obtained even in the deepest 
 trouble. We often look for it and fancy there is 
 none. Like Hagar, the child of our hope is given 
 up, and we lay down to die ; but why should we, 
 when there is water to be had, if we will but seek 
 for it ? Let no man say, My case is hopeless ; let 
 none say, I am in the valley, and can never again 
 know joy. There is hope. There is the water of 
 life to cheer our fainting souls. It certainly is not 
 possible for us to be in a position where Omnipo 
 tence cannot assist us. God hath servants every 
 where, and where we think he has none his word 
 can create a multitude. There are " treasures hid 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 325 
 
 in the sand,"* and the Lord s chosen shall eat 
 thereof. When the clouds hide the mountains they 
 are as real as in the sunshine ; so the promise and 
 the providence of God are unchanged by the 
 obscurity of our faith, or the difficulties of our posi 
 tion. There is hope, and hope at hand, therefore, 
 let us be of good cheer. 
 
 2. It teaches that comfort must be obtained by 
 exertion. Well-digging is hard labour : but better 
 dig for water than die of thirst. Much of the 
 misery Christians feel arises from inaction. Cold 
 numbs the hand if exercise be not used. We are 
 bound to use every scriptural means to obtain the 
 good we need. The sanctuary, the meeting for 
 prayer, the Bible, the company of the saints, pri 
 vate prayer and meditation these revive the soul. 
 We must dig the wells. If there be rocky granite 
 we must bore it; we must not be disturbed 
 from perseverance by the labour of our duties, 
 but continue to dig still : and what a mercy ! 
 
 if the well has ever so small a bore the water will 
 flow. 
 
 3. It teaches us that the comfort obtained by 
 one is often of use to another ; j ust as wells opened 
 by former travellers would suffice for the company 
 which came after. When we read works full of 
 consolation, like Jonathan s rod, dropping with 
 
 * Deut. xxxiii. 19. 
 
326 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 honey, let us remember that our brother has been 
 here before us, and digged this well. " Songs in 
 the Night," could only have been written by that 
 nightingale in the thorns, Susanna Harrison. 
 Many a " Night of Weeping," " Midnight Harmo 
 nies," an " Eternal Day," " A Crook in the Lot," 
 a " Comfort for Mourners," has been a well digged 
 by a pilgrim for himself, but has proved just as 
 useful to others. Specially we notice this in the 
 Psalms, which console us, although they were 
 mournful odes to David. Travellers have been 
 delighted to see the footprints of man on a barren 
 shore, and we love to see the way-marks of the pil 
 grimage while passing through the vale of tears. 
 Yea, the refuse and debris of the receding camp 
 often furnish food for the stragglers behind. We 
 may notice 
 
 III. THE HEAVENLY SUPPLY. The pilgrims dig 
 the well, but, strange enough, it fills from the top 
 instead of the bottom. We use the means, but the 
 blessing does not lie in the means, but in the God 
 of the means. We dig the well, but heaven fills it 
 with rain. The horse is prepared against the day 
 of battle, but salvation is of the Lord. The means 
 are divinely connected with the end, but the}^ do 
 not produce the blessing. " The rain filleth the 
 pools," so that ordinances and duties are rather 
 reservoirs than fountains, containing comfort, but 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 327 
 
 not creating it. In vain are all the ordinances 
 without the divine blessing ; as clouds without 
 rain, and pools without water, they yield us no 
 supplies. When heaven smiles and pours down 
 its showers of grace, then they are precious 
 things ; but without the celestial rain we might 
 as much expect water from the arid waste, as 
 a real blessing in the use of them. " All my 
 springs are in Thee," is the believer s daily con 
 fession to his Lord a confession which until death 
 must ever be upon his lips. 
 
 We now turn to Our legitimate subject, from 
 which the beauty of the text has for a while allured 
 us, and we hasten to answer the question, How 
 doth Jesus behave himself toward his people in the 
 hour of their distresses ? Does he leave them when 
 their friends are taken from them ! Does he 
 desert them in the hour of their poverty ? Is he 
 ashamed of them when sackcloth is on their 
 loins, and ashes upon their heads ? Do the pains 
 of Sickness affright him from the bed ? Can famine 
 and nakedness separate his brethren from his 
 love ? Is he the same yesterday, to-day, and 
 for ever? Our answer shall be one dictated by 
 the experience of the saints, and confirmed in the 
 life of the Christian reader. The Lord Jesus is 
 no fair-weather friend, but one who loveth at 
 all times a brother born for. adversitg. This he 
 proves to his beloved, not by mere words of pro- 
 
328 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUE. 
 
 mise, but by actual deeds of affection. As our 
 sufferings abound, so he makes our consolatons 
 to abound. This he does by divers choice acts 
 of love. 
 
 1. He affords the tried saint clearer manifesta 
 tions of himself than usual. When he draws the 
 curtain around the believer on the bed of sickness, 
 he usually withdraws the curtain wherewith he 
 conceals himself. He approaches nearer to the 
 soul in its tribulation, even as the sun is said to be 
 nearer to the earth in the time of winter. He 
 sheds a clear light on his promise when he robes 
 his providence in darkness ; and if both are alike 
 clouded, he reveals himself the more manifestly. 
 Affliction has often proved to be a presence-cham 
 ber, in which the King of Heaven gives audience 
 to his unworthy subjects. As Isaac met his bride 
 in the fields at eventide, so do true souls frequently 
 find their joy and consolation in the loneliness of 
 solitude, and at the sunset of their earthly plea 
 sures. He who would see the stars sparkling with 
 tenfold lustre must dwell in the cold regions of 
 
 O 
 
 snow ; and he who would know the full beauties 
 of Jesus, the bright and morning star, must see 
 him amid the frosts of trouble and adversity. 
 Affliction is often the hand of God, which he 
 places before our face to enable us, like Moses, to 
 see the train of his glory as he passes by. The 
 saint has had many a pleasant view of God s 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUB OF TROUBLE. 329 
 
 loving kindness from the top of the hills of mercy ; 
 but tribulation is very frequently the Lord s 
 Pisgah, from which he gives them a view of the 
 land in all its length and breadth. 
 
 Mr. Renwick, the last of the Scottish martyrs, 
 speaking of his sufferings for conscience sake, 
 says : " Enemies think themselves satisfied that we 
 are put to wander in mosses, and upon mountains ; 
 but even amidst the storms of these last two 
 nights, I cannot express what sweet times I have 
 had, when I had no covering but the dark curtains 
 of night. Yea, in the silent watch, my mind was 
 led out to admire the deep and inexpressible 
 ocean of joy wherein the whole family of heaven 
 swim. Each star led me to wonder what He must 
 be who is the star of Jacob, of whom all stars 
 borrow their shining." 
 
 This one testimony is the type of many ; it is 
 an exhibition of the great rule of the kingdom 
 " When thou passest through the rivers, I will be 
 with thee." 
 
 Choice discoveries of the wondrous love and 
 grace of Jesus are most tenderly vouchsafed unto 
 believers in the times of grief. Then it is that he 
 lifts them up from his feet, where, like Mary, it is 
 their delight to sit, and exalts them to the position 
 of the favoured John, pressing them to his breast 
 and bidding them lean on his bosom. Then it is 
 that he doth fill the cup of salvation with the old 
 
330 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 wine of the kingdom, and puts it to the mouth of 
 the Christian, that he may in some measure forget 
 the flavour of wormwood and grating of gravel- 
 stones which the draught of bitterness has placed 
 upon his palate and between his teeth. If Christ 
 is more excellent at one time than another it cer 
 tainly is in " the cloudy and dark day." We can 
 never so well see the true colour of Christ s love as 
 in the night of weeping. Christ in the dungeon, 
 Christ on the bed of sickness, Christ in poverty, is 
 Christ indeed to a sanctified man. No vision of 
 Christ Jesus is so truly a revelation as that which is 
 seen in the Patmos of suffering. As in time of war 
 the city doubles its guards, so does Jesus multiply 
 the displays of his affection when his chosen are 
 besieged by trials. When Habakuk s belly trem 
 bled, and his lips quivered, and rottenness entered 
 into his bones, when all his earthly hopes were 
 blasted, and his comforts removed, he had such an 
 overcoming sense of the presence of God that he 
 exclaimed in the midst of all his sorrows, " Yet 
 will I rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of 
 my salvation." Among the family of God none 
 are so well versed in the knowledge of Christ s 
 love as those who have been long in the chamber 
 of affliction. What marvellous things have these 
 seen, and what secrets have they heard? They 
 have kissed the lips which others have but heard 
 at a distance ; they have pressed their heads upon 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUE OF TROUBLE. 331 
 
 the breast which others have but seen with their 
 eyes ; and they have been embraced in the arms 
 into which others have but desired to climb. Give 
 us the Christ of affliction, for he is Christ indeed. 
 
 2. As under sanctified affliction the manifesta 
 tions 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 the most of the mother s eye, so 
 doth the afflicted believer receive the most of his 
 Saviour s attention, for like as a mother comforteth 
 her children, even so doth the Lord comfort his peo 
 ple. Pious Brooks writes, " Oh, the love-tokens, the 
 love-letters, the bracelets, the jewels that the saints 
 are able to produce since they have been in the fur 
 nace of affliction !" Of 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, O God ! how great is the sum of them !" 
 Mercies before came so constantly that memory 
 could not compute their number ; but now they 
 appear to come in wave after wave, without a 
 moment s cessation. Happy is the man who finds 
 the furnace as hot with love as with affliction. Let 
 the tried believer look for increased privileges, and 
 his faithful Lord will not deceive his expectations. 
 
332 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 
 
 He who rides upon the storm when it is tossing 
 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, had worse devils than we, for 
 without great tribulations he could not have had 
 so great and glorious revelations. David made 
 psalms ; "we also will make 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 " songs of deliverance " 
 would end, if we were mindful of the manifold 
 tokens for good which our glorious Lord vouch 
 safes us in the hour of sadness. How doth he 
 waken us morning by morning with the turtle 
 voice of love ; and how doth he lull us to our 
 evening repose with notes of kind compassion ! 
 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. f Oh, sweet 
 trouble, which brings Jesus nearer to us ! Afflic 
 tion is the black chariot of Christ, in which he 
 rideth to his children. Welcome, shades that 
 herald or accompany our Lord ! 
 
 3. In trying times the compassion and sympathy 
 of Jesus become more delightfully the subject of 
 
 * Luther, in his Table-talk. 1 Sam. xxx. 24 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 333 
 
 faith and 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 the 
 midst of losses and crosses, by the Holy Spirit s 
 influence, the power of it is felt in the soul. A 
 confident belief in the fact that Jesus is not an 
 unconcerned spectator of our tribulation, and a 
 confident assurance that he is in the furnace with 
 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 comfort 
 ing to remember that he also once said, Reproach 
 has broken mine heart !" And, above all, how 
 abundantly full of consolation is the thought that 
 now, even now, he feels 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 sovereign remedy for decay of spirit. 
 Give us Christ with us, and we can afford to smile 
 in the face bf our foes. 
 
334: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 " As to appreciation and sympathy, we do not 
 depend for these on fellow-worms. We can be 
 content to be unappreciated here, so long as Christ 
 understands us, and has a fellow-feeling for us. 
 It is for him we labour. One of his smiles out 
 weighs 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 fellow 
 ship and sympathy ? We surely have it in our 
 great High Priest. Oh, how often should we faint 
 but for the humanity of our divine Redeemer! 
 He is bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh ; yet 
 he has an almighty arm for our deliverance 
 human to feel, divine to aid ; faithful over all oui 
 failures and imperfections. What need we more ?" * 
 We may fancy we w r ant some other encourage 
 ment, 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, thinking 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 tribula 
 tion and affliction, content ourselves with one Com 
 forter, if all others fail us. Job had three mise 
 rable comforters ; better far to have one who is full 
 
 * Vide Shady Side, by a Pastor s Wife. 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 335 
 
 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 motions 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. 
 
 " 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 distresses thy Head feels the pain, 
 They all are most needful, not one is in vain." 
 
 Thus doth he gently assuage the floods of our swell 
 ing grief. 
 
 4. The Lord Jesus is graciously pleased in many 
 cases to give his afflicted saints an unusual insight 
 into the deep things of his word, and an unwonted 
 relish in meditation upon them. Our losses fre 
 quently act toward us as if they had cleared our 
 eyes ; at any rate, sickness and sorrow have often 
 been the fingers of Jesus, with which he applied 
 the salve of illuminating grace. Either the under 
 standing is more than ordinarily enlarged, or else 
 the promises are more simply opened up and 
 explained by the Holy Spirit. Who has not 
 observed the supernatural wisdom of the long 
 afflicted saint ? Who has not known the fact that 
 the school of sanctified sorrow is that in which are 
 to be found the ripest scholars ? 
 
336 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 "We learn more true divinity by our trials than 
 by our books. The great Eeformer said, " Prayer 
 is the best book in my library." He might have 
 added affliction as the next. Sickness is the best 
 Doctor of Divinity in all the world ; and trial is 
 the finest exposition of Scripture. This is so inesti 
 mable a mark of the love of our blessed Lord that 
 we might almost desire trouble for the sake of it. 
 This proves him to be wise in his hardest dealings 
 towards us, and therefore supremely kind ; for is it 
 not kindness which puts us to a little trouble for 
 the sake of an immense advantage, and doth, as it 
 were, take our 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 Jesus ~be not felt and 
 realised, 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 com 
 fort 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 
 them he is still sustaining them. Patience under 
 withdrawals of his sensible presence is a sure sign 
 
 * See Parable in Bunyan s Pilgrim s Progress. 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 337 
 
 of his real, though secret presence, in the soul. A 
 blind man is really nourished 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 
 strength and keeps us alive in famine. The intense 
 desire 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 afford support to the 
 sinking saint, even at seasons when his absence 
 is bemoaned with lamentations and tears ? " The 
 real gracious influences and effects of his favour 
 may be continued, upholding, strengthening, and 
 carrying on the soul still to obey and fear God, 
 whilst he yet conceals his favour ; for when Christ 
 complained, My God, my God, why hast thou for 
 saken me f (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 obey 
 ing to the death" * God s favour most assuredly 
 rests on his children s hearts and strengthens their 
 
 * Goodwin s Child of Light, &c. 
 
 15 
 
338 THE SAINT AND HIS SATIOUE. 
 
 spirits, when the light and comfort of it are phut 
 out from their perceptions. Christ puts his chil 
 dren upon his lap, and healeth their wounds when, 
 by reason of their swooning condition, they feel not 
 his hand, and see not his smile. It is said, " All 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 aifecj its 
 intrinsic worth and value. 
 
 The old theologians used to say, " Grace may be 
 in the heart in esse et operari, when not in cognosci f 
 it may have a being and a working there when not 
 in thy apprehension." Let us praise our bounteous 
 Lord for unseen favours, and let us love our Lord 
 JQSUS for his mercies imparted in silence, unob 
 served. 
 
 6. After long seasons of depression Jesus becomes 
 sweetly the consolation of Israel by removing our 
 load in a manner at once singularly felicitous and 
 marvellously efficacious. 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 cases the grace 
 of our Lord Jesus discovers itself in the hour of 
 .our escape. If we do not see our Lord in the pri 
 son, we shall meet him on the threshold in that 
 day which shall see him break the gates of brass 
 and cut the bars of iron in sunder. Marvellous 
 are his works in the day wherein he brings us out 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 339 
 
 of the house of bondage. Halyburton, after escape 
 from a clould and desertion, thus broke silence to 
 a friend " Oh, what a terrible conflict had I yes 
 terday ! but now I can say I have fought the 
 good light; I have kept the faith. Now he has 
 filled my mouth with a new song, i Jehovah Jireh 
 in the mount of the Lord. Praise, praise is 
 comely to the upright. Shortly I shall get a bet 
 ter sight of God than ever I have 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 at 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 having 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 delivera nce, 
 let me lay aside the language of an author, and 
 speak for myself, as I should tell the story to my 
 friends in conversation. It may be egotiern to 
 
340 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 Spirit are not 
 contrary thereto, I think I may venture for this 
 once to raise an Ebenezer in public, and rehearse 
 the praise of Jesus at the setting up thereof. Egot 
 ism is not so frightful a thing as ungrateful silence; 
 certainly it is not more contemptible than mock 
 humility. Eight or wrong, here followeth my 
 story. 
 
 On a night which time will never erase from 
 my memory, large numbers of my congregation 
 were scattered, many of them wounded and some 
 killed, by the malicious act of wicked men. Strong 
 amid danger, I battled the storm, nor did my spirit 
 yield to the overwhelming pressure while my 
 courage could reassure the wavering or confirm 
 the bold. But when, like a whirlwind, the destruc 
 tion had overpast, when the whole of its devasta 
 tion was visible to my eye, who can conceive the 
 anguish of my spirit ? I refused to be comforted, 
 tears w T ere my meat by day, and dreams my terror 
 by night. 1 felt as I had never felt before. " My 
 thoughts were all a case of knives," cutting my 
 heart in pieces, until a kind of stupor of grief 
 ministered a mournful medicine to me. I could 
 have truly said, " I am not mad, but surely I have 
 had enough to madden me, if I should indulge in 
 meditation on it." I sought and found a solitude 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 341 
 
 which seemed congenial to me. I could tell my 
 griefs to the flowers, and the dews could weep 
 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 dignity of supplication. 
 " 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 cut 
 ting miseries of my pilgrimage : 
 
 " The tumult of my thoughts 
 
 Doth but enlarge my woe ; 
 My spirit languishes, my heart 
 
 Is desolate and low. 
 With every morning light 
 
 My sorrow new begins : 
 Look on my anguish and my pain, 
 
 And pardon all my sins." 
 
 Then came " the slander of many " barefaced 
 fabrications, libellous slanders, and barbarous accu 
 sations. These alone might have scooped out the 
 last drop of consolation from my cup of happiness, 
 but the worst had come to the worst, and the 
 utmost malice of the enemy could do no more. 
 Lower they cannot sink who are already in the 
 nethermost depths. Misery itself is the guardian 
 
342 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 of the miserable. All things combined to keep me 
 for a season in the darkness where neither sun nor 
 moon appeared. I had hoped for a gradual return 
 to peaceful consciousness, and patiently did I wait 
 for the dawning light. But it came not as I had 
 desired, for He who doeth for us exceeding abun 
 dantly above what we can ask or think, sent me a 
 happier answer to my requests. I had striven to 
 think of the unmeasurable love of Jehovah, as dis 
 played in the sacrifice of Calvary ; I had endea 
 voured 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 fur 
 nace. 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 the stars yea, beyond them. Whither did it 
 wing its flight? and where did it sing its song of 
 gratitude? It was at the feet of Jesus, whoso 
 name had charmed its fears, and placed an end to 
 its mourning. The name the precious name of 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 343 
 
 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 deliv 
 ered me from the rock of my despair, and slew the 
 vulture of my grief! Before I told to others the 
 glad news of my recovery, my heart was melodious 
 with song, and my tongue endeavoured tardily to 
 express the music. Then did I give to my Well- 
 Beloved a song touching my 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 adver 
 sity, 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 riven the very firmament to get at Him, to 
 cast myself at his feet, and lie there bathed in the 
 tears of joy and love, ^"ever since the day of my 
 conversion had I known so much of his infinite 
 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 
 
344: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 forth his glory, for mf? soul was absorbed in the 
 one idea of his glorious exaltation and divine com 
 passion. 
 
 After a declaration of the exceeding grace of 
 God towards me, made to my dearest kindred and 
 friends, I essayed 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 before the bar 
 of God. The text selected runs thus " Wherefore 
 God also hath highly exalted Him, and given him 
 a name which is above every name : that at the 
 name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in 
 heaven, and things in earth, and things under the 
 earth ; and that every tongue should confess that 
 Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the 
 Father." * May I trouble the reader with some of 
 the utterances of the morning, for they were the 
 un veilings of my own experience. 
 
 When the mind is intensely set upon one object, 
 however much it may by divers 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 
 
 * Phil. ii. 911. 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF T-KOUBLE. 345 
 
 suffered much perturbation in the meantime ; he 
 had dreaded alike the effects of victory and of de 
 feat ; but have you not noticed how his thoughts in 
 one moment returned to the darling object of his 
 affections ? " Is the young man Absalom safe ?" 
 said he, as if it mattered not what else had oc 
 curred, if his beloved son were but secure ! 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 himself, and asks of others too, is this " Is 
 Christ s kingdom safe ?" In his own personal 
 afflictions his chief anxiety is "Will God be glori 
 fied, 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 reed, if the pillars of the 
 temple are unbroken, what matters it that my reed 
 is bruised? He finds 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 his feet, yet Christ standeth on a rock 
 which never can be moved. Some of these feel 
 ings, I think, have crossed our 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 
 15* 
 
34:6 THE SAINT AN1? HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 no small consolation, after all, to. say, "It .matters 
 not what shall become of us ; God hath highly ex 
 alted 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 
 delivering grace most indelibly impressed upon my 
 memory ; and the fact that this experience is to me 
 the most memorable 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 him 
 self peculiarly precious by the gracious manner in 
 which, in bestowing an amazing increase of joy, he 
 entirely obliterates every scar which the sword 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 mother, so the giorious manifestations of the 
 Lord do wipe out all the bitter memories of the 
 trials of the past. After 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 refreshings of the Lord of hosts right speed- 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 34-7 
 
 ily transforming every tear into a jewel of delight, 
 and satisfying the soul with balmy peace. The 
 soul s calm is deep and profound when the tem 
 pest has fully spent itself, for the same Jesus 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 sharp winters are followed by 
 bright summers. This is the sweet fruit of Christ s 
 love, he will not have his brethren so much as 
 remember their sorrows with regret ; he so works 
 in them and towards them that their light afflic 
 tion is forgotten in happy contemplation upon his 
 eternal weight of glory. Happy is that unhappi- 
 ness which brings with it such surpassing privi 
 leges, 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 unconsciously produced 
 a sonnet in prose upon this subject: 
 " 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 bleed 
 ing; gold looks the brighter for scouring; glow 
 worms glisten best in the dark ; juniper smells 
 sweetest in the fire ; pomander becomes most fra- 
 
348 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 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 God when least in 
 man s esteem. As their conflicts, so their con 
 quests; as their tribulations, so their triumphs. 
 True salamanders, they live best in the furnace of 
 persecution ; so that heavy afflictions are the best 
 benefactors to heavenly affections. Where afflic 
 tions 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 har 
 mony with his experience, and if it be so, let him 
 testify to his tried brethren that lie has tasted and 
 handled of the goodness of the Lord Jesus, and has 
 found him full of grace to help, and power to com 
 fort. Open thy mouth as wide in praise as thou 
 didst in prayer, and let thy gratitude be as lasting 
 as his love. 
 
 But if the reader cannot bear witness to the 
 faithfulness 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 character. 
 
 * Samuel Clerk, preface to Martyrolagy. 
 
JESUS IN THE HOTJR OF TROUBLE. 349 
 
 That is not from heaven which cannot endure the 
 fire. If the promises afford thee no comfort in thy 
 trials, if thy faith doth utterly fail, and thou h ndest 
 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 suspicion. The following sentences from 
 the pen of William Gurnall deserve much ponder 
 ing ; they will raise a vital question in the mind 
 of those who have never felt the sweetness of the 
 promises in the hour of need : " Promises 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, 
 unbelieving 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 
 professor in trial sometimes finds no comfort in the 
 
 * Christian Armour. 
 
350 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 promises ; and as it is a little more lenient, we add 
 it here, and desire all such persons to judge for 
 themselves. It may be that thou hast neglected 
 communion, and therefore thy troubles weigh 
 heavily. When a bucket is let down into 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 they 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 hast one of two faults 
 to find with thyself, either thou art dead, and so 
 unable to feel the heat and comfort of the Lord s 
 presence ; or else thou hast been inactive, not improv 
 ing the means whereby the fellowship of the Mas 
 ter may be realised. Search thine heart and know 
 the reason. " Are the consolations of God small 
 with thee ? Is there any 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. 
 
 * Job, xv. 11. 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE. 351 
 
 Go to the Lord at once, and ask a fresh supply of 
 life and grace. Do not seek to mimic the joy of 
 believers, but strive for the reality of it. Rely not 
 on thine own power. Trim thy lamp with hea 
 venly oil. If the fire of the Roman vestals were 
 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, and 
 at once. May the Holy Spirit help thee. 
 
TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 
 
 Poor sinner, how great a difference 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 -afflic 
 tions are frequently of the sharpest kind, but you 
 have no promises to blunt their edge; you are 
 in the furnace, but you are without that divine 
 companion who can prevent the fire from hurting 
 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 benefits. How dreary 
 must your heart feel when lover and friend are put 
 far from you, when your hopes are withered, and 
 your joys are removed ! You have no Christ to 
 cheer you; he is not the recompence of your grief; 
 he is not Jehovah Jireh to you. You have no 
 Almighty arms beneath you, no Eternal God to be 
 
 352 
 
JESUS IN THE HOUK OF TROUBLE. 353 
 
 jour refuge, no Anointed One to be your shield. 
 You must bear your sorrows 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 foolish 
 ness ; suffering, but unsanctified. What misery to 
 have no foundation in the day of the tempest, no 
 covert from the wind, no shelter from the storm ! 
 The saint can bear a world of trouble when the 
 strength of Israel doth brace him with omnipo 
 tence ; but thou, without the support of the Most 
 High, art crushed before the moth, and over 
 whelmed when evil getteth hold 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 have become a torrent, and 
 the small rain of tribulation has given place to the 
 waterspouts of vengeance, how wilt thou endure 
 the unutterable wrath of the Lamb ? 
 
 Lay this to thy heart, and may the Lord enable 
 thee to cast the burden of thy sin upon the crucified 
 Saviour ; then shalt thou have boldness to cast thy 
 griefs there also. 
 
X. 
 
 JESUS HIDING- HIMSELF. 
 
 " Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled." Ps. xxx. Y. 
 
 " Why dost thou shade thy lovely face ? oh, why 
 Doth that eclipsing hand so long deny 
 The sunshine of thy soul-enlivening eye ? 
 
 " Without that 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. 
 
 " Thou 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. 
 
 THE Lord Jesus will never remove his love from 
 any one of the objects of his choice. The names 
 of his redeemed are written on his hands and 
 graven on his side ; they are designed for eternal 
 
 851 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 355 
 
 felicity, and to that blessed consummation his, 
 hand and his heart are unitedly resolved to bring 
 them. The meanest lamb of the blood-bought 
 nock shall be preserved securely by the " strength 
 of Israel" unto the day of his appearing, and shall, 
 through every season of tribulation and distress, 
 continue to be beloved of the Lord. Yet this does 
 not prevent the great Shepherd from hiding him 
 self 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 Iris presence, whereby our joys shall be dimmed, 
 and our evidences darkened. He will sometimes 
 say, "I will go and return unto my place, until 
 they acknowledge 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 delight 
 ful, 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 nothing compared with 
 an absent Redeemer ; yea, sickness and the 
 approach of death are preferable 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 
 
356 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 were as in months past, as in the days when God 
 preserved me ; when his candle shined upon my 
 head, and when by his light I walked through 
 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 trouble 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 weary of God s house ; weary of mirth, and 
 account it madness ; weary of riches and honours ; 
 yea, if it continue long, it will make him weary of 
 life itself, and wish for death." f The effect is 
 always deplorable during the time of its duration, 
 but the cause of it is not always the same. There 
 are 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 
 withdrawals which are evidences of an offence 
 given to our Lord, and those which are designed 
 to be trials of our faith. Our experience under 
 different varieties of forsakings will vary, and the 
 
 * Jer. xx. 3. 
 
 f Lockyer on Christ s Communion. 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 357 
 
 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 trans 
 gressions ; 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 fatherly 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. 
 " Sometimes Christians are guilty of acting a part 
 which is offensive to their dear Saviour, and there 
 fore 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 quickened her 
 desires after the enjoyment of his company, by an 
 effectual touch upon her heart ; but he withdrew, 
 departed, and left her to bewail her folly in her 
 sinful neglect. Upon this her bowels were trou 
 bled : 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 occasion to 
 
358 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 confess our ingratitude to him, by the loss we sus 
 tain in consequence of it. His love in itself passes 
 under no vicissitude ; it is always the same ; that 
 is our security ; but the manifestation of it to our 
 souls, from which our peace, comfort, and joy 
 spring, may be interrupted through our negligence, 
 sloth, and sin. A sense of it, when it is so, may 
 well break our hearts ; for there is no ingratitude 
 in the world like it." * We would not be under 
 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 fully punished 
 their sin in Christ, to inflict any penalty upon them 
 would be demanding a double punishment for one 
 offence, which were unjust. Let the chastisements 
 be understood in a paternal sense as correctives, 
 and the truth is gained. Sin will be chastened 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 com 
 munion is only appended to obedience. " He that 
 hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it 
 is that loveth me : and he that lovetli me shall be 
 loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will 
 manifest myself to him." f Now if we walk scan 
 dalously, and indulge in known sin, no wonder 
 
 * Brine. John xiv. 21. 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 359 
 
 though the Lord withdraw himself from ns. The 
 joy 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 fre 
 quently mar our communion ! 
 
 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 we would fain believe that 
 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 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 
 many cases, we readily admit, but that it should 
 be so we never can allow. Those men who glory 
 in what they proudly call a deep experience, by 
 which they mean 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 admirable proofs of 
 grace. To them an absent Christ is fine stock in 
 trade for a sermon upon their own superlative wis 
 dom ; and a heart which mourns abundantly, but 
 loves most scantily, is to them what perfection is to 
 
360 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 the Arminian. As if the weeds of the field were 
 precious plants because they will grow in good 
 soil ; as if the freckles on the face of beauty were 
 to be imitated by all who desire to attain to loveli 
 ness ; 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 of the Lord Jesus, 
 that it casts the whole weight of the sin and sinful- 
 ness of the soul entirely upon the Redeemer, and 
 rejoicing in his 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 I do not mind how much they 
 complain if they carry their corruptions to Jesus." 
 This is forgotten by many; but those who are care 
 ful to practice it will have many causes for gladness. 
 Blessed be God, the green pastures and the still 
 waters, the shepherd s crook and pleasant com 
 pany, are objects which are quite as familiar to 
 the believer s mind as the howling wilderness and 
 the brandished rod 
 
 " The men of grace have found 
 
 Glory begun below ; 
 Celestial fruits on earthly ground, 
 From faith and hope do grow." 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 361 
 
 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 apparent deser 
 tion on account of sin, and may He make it useful 
 to us. 
 
 "We shall now proceed to review the mischiefs 
 which attend upon suspended communion. The 
 effects of the withdrawal of the face of Jesus are 
 the outward signs shadowing forth the secret sick 
 ness of the heart, which such a condition neces 
 sarily engenders. Although it be not fatal, yet is 
 it exceedingly hurtful to miss the company of the 
 Lord. As plants thrive not when the light is kept 
 from them, but become blanched and unhealthy, 
 so souls deprived of the light of God s counte 
 nance are unable to maintain the verdure of 
 their piety or the strength of their graces. "What 
 a loss is a lost Christ ! 
 
 During this doleful season the believers evidences 
 are eclipsed j he is in grievous doubt concerning 
 his own condition 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 radi 
 ance, are now dark and cheerless, for the sun has 
 departed, the source of their light is concealed in 
 clouds. Evidences without Christ are like unlit 
 candles, which afford no light ; like fig-trees with 
 
 16 
 
362 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 leaves only, devoid of fruit; like purses without 
 gold, and like barns without wheat ; they have 
 great capabilities of comfort, but without Jesus 
 they are emptiness itself: Evidences are like con 
 duit-pipes they are sometimes the channels of 
 living water, but if the supply from the fountain- 
 head be cut off from them, their waters utterly 
 fail. That man will die of thirst who has no better 
 spring to look to than an empty pitcher of evi 
 dences. Ishmael would have perished in the wil 
 derness if his only hope had been in the bottle 
 which his mother brought out with her from the 
 tent of Abraham ; and assuredly without direct 
 supplies from the gracious hands of the Lord Jesus, 
 the saints would soon be in an ill plight. Unless 
 the God of our graces 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 we shall find ourselves, if we lose the 
 presence of the Lord Jesus ; we shall be racked 
 with fears, and tormented with doubts, without 
 possessing that sovereign cordial with which in 
 better days our sorrows have been allayed. We 
 shall find all the usual sources of our consola 
 tion dried up, and it will be in vain for us to 
 expect a single drop from them. Ahab sent 
 Obediah upon an idle errand, when in the time of 
 great drought he said, " Go into the land unto all 
 fountains of water, and unto all brooks : peradven- 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 363 
 
 ture we may find grass 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 confidence are seldom to be 
 spoken of together. 
 
 "We know, however, that some professors 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 sunshine of his smile. Be 
 tween 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 
 their inner nature there is an essential distinction. 
 Faith believes on Jesus when his comfortable 
 promise is not vouchsafed ; but it does not render 
 the soul indifferent to the sweetness of 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, 
 
364 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIODK. 
 
 " 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, whoever 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 pros 
 pects of the better land ; no earnests of pure 
 delight; no foretastes of the riches of glory, and 
 no assurance of our title to the goodly land beyond 
 Jordan. It is as much as we can do to preserve 
 ourselves from despair; we cannot aspire to any 
 confidence of future glory. It is a contested point 
 with us whether we are not ripening for hell. "We 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 365 
 
 fear that we never knew a Saviour s love, but have 
 been all along deceivers and deceived ; the pit of 
 hell yawns before us, and we are in great straits to 
 maintain so much 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 change 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 meanest of the sheep, if 
 we might but have a glimpse of the Shepherd. 
 
 The native buoyancy of spirit which distin 
 guishes the heir of heaven is in a great measure 
 removed by the departure of the Lord. The be 
 liever is spiritually a man who can float in the 
 deepest waters, and mount above the highest bil 
 lows ; he is able, when in a right condition, to keep 
 his head above all the water-floods which may in 
 vade his peace : but see his Lord depart, and he 
 sinks in deep mire, where there is no standing all 
 the waves and the 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 
 
 * Job, xii. 5. 
 
366 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 shadow. He who in his better days could cut 
 down an acre of foemen at a stroke, is affrighted 
 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 reproach, 
 but he is now as 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 counted but as the small dust of the balance, 
 are now borne upon the shoulders of his own 
 anxiety, and are a load intolerably 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 naked 
 ness that every thorn pierces him, and every 
 briar fetches blood from him ; yea, his spirit is 
 pierced through and through with anxious thoughts 
 which once would have been his scorn. How are 
 the mighty fallen ; how are the princes taken in a 
 net, and the nobles cast as 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 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 367 
 
 him a song, for "the chief musician upon his 
 stringed instruments" has ceased to lead the choir. 
 Can the spouse be happy when she has grieved her 
 bridegroom 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 earthly. 
 Covetousness and love of riches attain a sad pre 
 ponderance. The Lord will hide himself if we 
 love the world ; and, on the other hand, his ab 
 sence, which is intended for far other purposes, 
 will sometimes, through the infirmity of our na 
 ture, 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 worldli- 
 ness flee apace ; for such is his apparent glory that 
 earthly objects fade away like the stars in noon 
 day ; 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 cleaveth 
 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 the Saviour s company, we 
 shall set too high an estimate upon the things of 
 this life, and then bitterness and disappointment 
 are at the door. 
 
368 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 
 
 At this juncture, moreover, the great enemy of 
 souls is peculiarly lusy ; our extremity is his op 
 portunity, and he is not backward in availing him 
 self of it. Now that Zion s Captain has removed 
 his royal presence, the evil one concludes that he 
 may deal with the soul after the devices of his own 
 malicious heart. Accordingly, with many a roar 
 and hideous yell, he seeks to affright the saint; 
 and if this suffices not, he lifts his arm 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 beneath 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 commu 
 nion, 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 laughter 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 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 
 
 in which our great strength lieth ; and when the 
 shouts of the vaunting Philistines are in our ears, 
 we cry for the strength which once laid our ene 
 mies "heaps upon heaps" by thousands. "We 
 must again enjoy 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. 
 
 " 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 filthy, 
 Sores corrupt and putrefied, 
 
 No part sound or healthy. 
 
 " All things to promote 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 
 mountains on either hand, their old masters 
 
 * Hart. 
 
 16* 
 
370 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 thought it a fit time to pursue them ; and now that 
 the believei is in great straits, his former sins rise 
 up to afflict him and cause him renewed sorrow : 
 then, moreover, our sins become more formidable 
 to us than they were at our first repentance ; when 
 we were in Egypt we saw not the Egyptians upon 
 horses and in chariots they only appeared as our 
 task-masters with their whips ; but now we see 
 them clad in armour as mighty ones, full of wrath, 
 bearing the instruments of death. The pangs of 
 sin, when the Lord forsakes us, are frequently as 
 vehement as at first conversion, and in some cases 
 far more so ; for 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, think the darkness more dense 
 than it is considered to be by those who have long 
 walked in it ; so pardoned men think more of the 
 evil of sin than those who never saw the light. 
 
 The deserted soul has little or no liberty in 
 grayer : 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 by 
 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 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 371 
 
 the attainment of it. As when the bird with 
 broken wing strives to mount, and rises a little dis 
 tance, 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 sorrowfully 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. 3 " * 
 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 
 hand, 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 emptiness, where hun 
 ger looks in vain for food : in reading it, the dis 
 tressed soul will think it to be all threatenings and 
 no promises ; he will see the terrors written in 
 
 * Gen. xxxii. 26. 
 
372 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 capitals, and the consolations printed in a type so 
 small as to be almost illegible. Kead the Word 
 he must, for it has become as necessary as his 
 food ; but 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 field yields no harvest without rain, 
 so the book of revelation brings forth no comfort 
 without the dew of the Spirit. 
 
 Our intercourse with Christian friends, once so 
 enriching, is rendered profitless, or at best its only 
 usefulness 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 affording us 
 its usual enjoyment ; and it may be we turn away 
 from them, longing to see His face whose absence 
 we deplore. This barrenness overspreads all the 
 ordinances of the Lord s house, and renders them 
 all unprofitable. When Christ is with the Chris 
 tian, the means of grace are like flowers in the sun 
 shine, smelling fragrantly and smiling beauteously ; 
 but without Christ they are like flowers by night, 
 their fountains of fragrance are sealed by the dark 
 ness. The songs of the temple shall be howlings 
 in that day, and her solemn feasts as mournful as 
 her days of fasting. The sacred supper which, 
 when Christ is at the table, is a feast of fat things, 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 373 
 
 without him is as an empty vine. The holy con 
 vocation 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 out 
 ward ear is the only part affected ; we sing, but 
 
 " Hosannahs languish on our tongues, 
 And our devotion dies." 
 
 We even attempt to preach (if this be our calling), 
 but we speak 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 having reached 
 it we find it empty. 
 
 Yery probably we 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 disposition. Hear the 
 reproof administered by one of the giants of puri 
 tanic times : " You come ofttimes to Wisdom 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 ornament 
 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 promises, yea, 
 
374: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 
 displeasure. " The joy of the Lord is our strength," 
 and if this be wanting we necessarily become faint. 
 "His presence is life," and the removal of it shakes 
 us to our very foundation. Duty is toilsome 
 labour, unless Christ make it a delight. " With 
 out me ye can do nothing," said the Redeemer ; 
 and truly we have found it so. The boldness of 
 lion-like courage, the firmness of rooted decision, 
 the confidence of unflinching faith, the zeal of 
 quenchless love, the vigour of undying devotion, 
 the sweetness of sanctified fellowship all hang for 
 support upon the one pillar of the Saviour s pre 
 sence, and this removed they fail. There are 
 many and precious clusters, but they all grow on 
 one bough, and if that be broken they fall with it. 
 Though we be flourishing like the green bay-tree, 
 yet the sharpness of such a winter will leave us 
 leafless and bare. Then the fig-tree shall not blos 
 som, neither shall there be fruit in the vine ; the 
 labour of the olive shall fail, and the field shall 
 yield no meat." " Instead of sweet smell there 
 
 * Lockyer. 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 375 
 
 shall be a stink ; and instead of a girdle a rent ; 
 and instead of well-set hair, baldness ; and instead 
 of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth ; and burn 
 ing instead of beauty." * It is then that we shall 
 cry with Saul, " I am sore distressed, for the Philis 
 tines make war against me, and God is departed 
 from me, and answereth me no more, neither by 
 prophets nor by dreams." f Good it is for us that 
 He is not clean gone for ever, but will turn again 
 lest we perish. 
 
 ISTot to weary ourselves upon this mournful topic, 
 we may sum up all the manifest effects of a loss of 
 the manifest favour of Christ in one sad catalogue 
 misery of spirit, faintness in hope, coldness in 
 worship, slackness in duty, dulness in prayer, bar 
 renness in meditation, worldliness of mind, strife 
 of conscience, attacks from Satan, and weakness in 
 resisting the enemy. Such ruin doth a withdraw 
 ing of Divine presence work in man. From all 
 grieving of thy Spirit, from all offending of the 
 Saviour, 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 grace and trust in the 
 merits of thy Son, through whom we address thee. 
 Amen. 
 
 * Isa. iii. 24. f 1 Sam. xxviii. 15. 
 
TO THE UNCONYEKTED EEADEK. 
 
 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 rebellious 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 exposed ! 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 ! 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 
 
 878 
 
JESUS HIDING HIMSELF. 377 
 
 to hell, mind what thou art at! Do not damn 
 thyself, there are cheaper ways of playing fool 
 than that. Go and array thyself in motley, and 
 become the aping fool, at whom men laugh, but do 
 not 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 commit suicide upon 
 thine own soul for the mere sake of indulging thy 
 thoughtlessness. Be wise, lest being often reproved, 
 having hardened thy neck, thou shouldest be sud 
 denly destroyed, and that without remedy. 
 
XI. 
 
 THE CAUSES OF APPARENT 
 DESERTION. 
 
 " Show me wherefore thou contendest with me." JOB, x. 2. 
 
 IT would be a grievous imputation upon the 
 much tried children of God, if we should imagine 
 that their greater trials are the results of greater 
 sin. We see some of them stretched upon the bed 
 of languishing year after year ; others are subject 
 to the severest losses in business, and a third class 
 are weeping the oft-repeated bereavements of 
 death. Are all these chastisements for sin? and 
 are we to attribute the excess of trouble to an 
 enlarged degree of transgression? Many of the 
 Lord s people are free from the extreme bitterness 
 of such affliction : what is the cause of the differ 
 ence ? Is it always the result of sin ? We reply, 
 Certainly not. In many cases it is, but in as many 
 more it is not. David had a comparatively smooth 
 
 878 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 3Y9 
 
 course until after his sin with Bathsheba, and then 
 he commenced a pilgrimage of deepest woe ; but 
 we do not think that the trials of Job were pre 
 ceded by any great fall ; on the contrary. Job was 
 never more holy than just before the enemy fell 
 upon him. Trials have other errands besides the 
 mortification of the flesh, and other reasons beyond 
 that of chastisement for sin. 
 
 Since the hidings of God s countenance stand 
 among the chief of our troubles, the previous 
 remark will apply to them. These are, without 
 doubt, very frequently a monition from Christ of 
 his grief at our iniquities ; 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 thickest glades of the forest. Shall we 
 dare to charge them with 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 by their very grief and ingenuous con 
 fession, they will unwittingly refute our cruel sup 
 position. 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 so much excel that 
 we are compelled to admire. The white and sickly 
 
380 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 lily is exceeding fair, although she has not the 
 ruddy health which is the glory of the rose. We 
 desire that these sons and daughters of mourning 
 may come forth to the light, and rejoice in their 
 Lord : but if they shall still tarry in the land of 
 darkness, be it far from us to charge them with 
 greater sin because they have less joy. "We 
 remember well the lines of the poet 
 
 " In this wild world the fondest and the best 
 Are the most tried, most troubled, and distrest."* 
 
 We will now venture to suggest some of the rea 
 sons for the Saviour s withdrawals. 
 
 1. Divine Sovereignty is manifested in the com 
 munion of saints with their Lord, as well as in 
 every other step of the journey to heaven. He 
 who giveth no account of his matters, out of his 
 own absolute will and good pleasure may extin 
 guish 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 uncon 
 trolled and absolute manner. That all men may 
 see that their best pleasures flow from the river of 
 God, and are only to be found in him, and only to 
 be obtained through his divine grace, he is pleased 
 at certain seasons to dry up the springs, to close the 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 381 
 
 fountain, and suspend the flowing of the stream ; 
 so 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 salvation allows a withering and a blight to 
 seize upon it that it may believe the sacred decla 
 ration, U FROM 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 lies in the 
 absolute will of God ; if so, let us bend our heads 
 in silence, and let him do what seemeth him good. 
 Unhappy is our lot when our best Beloved is ab 
 sent ; 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 absolute 
 ness and prerogative in this his dealing with his 
 child, and proceed therein according to no ruled 
 case or precedent ? This he may do, and who shall 
 cry, < What doest thou? "* 
 
 We think, however, that this case is but of rare 
 occurrence, and we would, under every withdrawal, 
 exhort the believer to look for some other cause, 
 and only resort to this explanation when he can 
 
 * Goodwin. 
 
382 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 truly say, as in God s sight, that with diligent 
 searching he cannot discover another. Then let 
 him remember that such trouble shall be richly re 
 compensed 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 of fellowship with Christ in his suffer 
 ings. The very worst of the Saviour s agonies lay 
 in his desertion by God ; the cry of " My God, my 
 God, why hast thou forsaken me ?" was the gall of 
 the bitterness of the miseries of Jesus. Now, unless 
 we had to endure a measure of the same excruci 
 ating: torment of desertion, we could not enter into 
 
 O 7 
 
 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 
 countenance, 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, 
 Kichard 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 medi 
 ator, and how miserable our condition were with 
 out such an one, both to have borne and overcome 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 383 
 
 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 
 bottom, yet taste they might, and Christ tells them 
 they should : Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, 
 and be baptised with the baptism that I am bap 
 tised with, t that is, taste of inward affliction and 
 desertion, as well as of outward persecution ; and 
 all to make us conformable to him, that we might 
 come to know in part what he endured for us." 
 Sweet departure of Jesus, which thus enables us to 
 approach the nearer to him ! of all reasons for pa 
 tience none can be more powerful than this. 
 
 3. Thus, in some men, the Lord works a prepa 
 ration for eminent service. By the experience of 
 sharp inw r ard trouble, the Lord s mighty men are 
 prepared for the fight. To them the heat by day 
 and the frost by night, the shoutings of the war, 
 the spear and the battle-axe are little things, for 
 they have been trained in a sterner school. They 
 are like 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 weathered the storm, and are not to be upset 
 by every capful of wind. To them the loss of 
 man s applause is of small account, for they have 
 endured the loss of Christ s smile, and have yet 
 
 * Sibbs s Bowels Opened. f Matt. xx. 28. 
 
 \ Child of Light walking in Darkness 
 
384 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 trusted him. To them the contumely of a world, 
 and the rage of hell, aye nothing, for they have 
 suffered what is a thousand times worse they 
 have passed 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, f They are useful, for 
 Paul saith of such men, " Brethren, if a man be 
 overtaken in a fault, ye which 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 en 
 camp 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, and has tried the 
 remedies which he prescribes for us ; so we confide 
 in the advice of the Christian who knows our trials 
 by having felt them. What sweet words in season 
 do tried saints address to mourners ! they are the 
 real sons of consolation, the truly good Samaritans. 
 
 * Ps- l"xviii. 16. f i Rings, iv. 31. 
 
 \ Num. x. 31. 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 385 
 
 We who have a less rugged path, are apt to over 
 drive the lambs; but these have nourished and 
 brought up children, 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 their speech 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 presence is the life of our joys ; but if thy 
 brief withdrawals 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 affection 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 of great heaviness, what must an eternal 
 weight of torment be ? These thoughts, begotten 
 by our sorrow, are very useful in stirring up our 
 hearts in preaching, for under 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 
 IT 
 
386 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 sin 
 ners ! 
 
 4. The Lord Jesus sometimes hides himself from 
 us, because by his foresight and prudence he is 
 thus able to prevent the breaking forth of evil. 
 Perhaps pride would rise to an alarming height if 
 the pining sickness of desertion did not somewhat 
 abate its violence. If some men had all their 
 desires the earth would need enlargement, for their 
 pride would become intolerable to their fellows; 
 and, certainly, while corruption still remains in our 
 hearts, continual comfort would work somewhat in 
 the same manner even in us. Because of the 
 haughtiness, 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 goodness is fain 
 to hold them to hard meat, and to keep them to a 
 spare diet." * Sometimes, also, high living would 
 bring on carelessness of walk. "We should forget 
 that we walk by faith, and not by sight, if it were 
 not for intervals 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 
 
 * Thomas Hooker. 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 387 
 
 devoid of the other ; therefore our Divine Lord, 
 according to his own wisdom, gives us a bitter les 
 son in both, by stopping the supplies of joy and 
 withholding his 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 stagger 
 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 dis 
 ciples, " 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 few 
 ness 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 strike sail when 
 they come into the shallow or narrow seas. This is 
 the reason why the Lord so deals with us : the soul 
 is like the ship, and the sense of God s love and 
 mercy is like the sail that carries us on in a 
 Christian course ; and if we get but little sail of 
 mercy and favour, we go on sweetly and com- 
 
 * John xvi. 12. 
 
388 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUE. 
 
 fortably ; but if God gives us abundance and assu 
 rance, our cursed rotten hearts would overturn, and 
 instead of quickening us it would overthrow us ; so 
 that though God doth it, the fault is in ourselves."* 
 If we have been sorely tried and severely exer 
 cised, our trials should read us a lesson upon the 
 evil of our nature. Let us exclaim with that long 
 afflicted saint, Mr. Rogers, "We that have tasted 
 so much of his displeasure have cause to rejoice 
 with trembling ; every remembrance of that dole 
 ful time must be to us a new motive to obedience, 
 and a powerful restraint of sin ; he chastens us for 
 our profit, that we might be partakers of his holi 
 ness. Oh, what an abundance of folly must there 
 have been lodged in our hearts that God is forced 
 to use so sharp and so severe a method to whip 
 it out! How benumbed were we, that nothing 
 else could awaken us ! How diseased, that noth 
 ing but a potion so bitter could promote our cure ! 
 How great was our pride, that he was forced to 
 beat it down by so violent a stroke ! It must have 
 been like the pride of Israel, to whom he saith, 
 He led thee through that great and terrible wilder 
 ness, wherein were fiery serpents, and scorpions, 
 and drought, where there was no water ; that 
 he might humble thee, and prove thee, to do thee 
 good in thy latter end." 
 
 * Sours Implantation, by T. Hooker. 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 389 
 
 5. Our Lord Jesus designs also to try OUT faith. 
 He will see whether we can trust him or no. 
 When we see him by sensible enjoyment there 
 is not that space for faith which his absence causes ; 
 and, moreover, to believe what we feel to be true 
 is no hard matter, but to credit what present 
 experience appears to contradict is a divine act 
 which is most honourable to the grace which 
 enables us to do it. Our faith is the centre of the 
 target at which God doth shoot when he tries us, 
 and if any other grace shall escape untried, cer 
 tainly faith shall not. There is no way of piercing 
 faith to its very marrow like the sticking of the 
 arrow of desertion in it ; this finds it out whether 
 it be of the immortals or no. Strip it of its armour 
 of conscious enjoyment, and suffer the terrors of 
 the Lord to set themselves in array against it, and 
 that is faith indeed which can escape unhurt from 
 the midst of the attack. Faith must be tried, and 
 desertion is the furnace, heated seven times, into 
 which it must be thrust. Blest is the man who can 
 endure the ordeal. 
 
 6. A temporary withdrawal endears Christ to us 
 upon his return, and gives the soul some idea of the 
 infinite value of his smile. Constant enjoyment of 
 any good thing is too much for our corrupt natures. 
 Israel loathed the angel s food, sind sighed for the 
 meaner fare of Egypt the garl s and the onions; 
 but if the manna had been stayed, how eagerly 
 
390 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOFK. 
 
 would they have clamoured for its restoration! 
 "When rain falls in its needed season we scarcely 
 stay to return thanks for the boon ; but if it be 
 withheld, how do we bless the drops and thank the 
 God of heaven for them. Sunlight is never more 
 grateful than after a long watch in the midnight 
 blackness; Christ s presence is nevermore accepta 
 ble than after a time of weeping, on account of his 
 departure. It is a sad thing that WQ should need 
 to lose our mercies to teach ns to be grateful for 
 them ; let us mourn over this crookedness of our 
 nature ; and let us strive to express our thankful 
 ness for mercies, so that we may not have to lament 
 their removal. Let us deal courteously, tenderly, 
 obediently, and affectionately, with our glorious 
 Lord, and it may be we shall retain him as a con 
 stant guest. 
 
 7. This also whets our appetite for heaven, and 
 makes us thirst for the land of bliss. The world 
 has a fascinating power which constrains us to love 
 it, if all be well ; but by removing the light of his 
 face, our Lord Jesus breaks the spell, and delivers 
 us from the overweening love of the creature. 
 Weaning is sorrowful work, but it must be done : 
 we must be made to groan in this body that we 
 may be made ready for the unclothing, and the 
 " clothing upon," by which mortality shall be swal 
 lowed up of life. In heaven they see his face, and 
 his name is in their foreheads ;. this incites the 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 391 
 
 saint to pant for glor} 7 , that he may obtain uninter 
 rupted fellowship with Jesus. O how sweet it 
 must be to behold his face without the shadow of 
 an intervening cloud ; to dwell in his house, and 
 go no more out for ever ; to lean upon his bosom, 
 and never rise from that delightful posture ! In 
 our days of song and tabret we are still conscious 
 that there is richer music in the upper world ; but 
 in times of fasting and sighing, how do we cry out 
 for the living God, and pant to appear before him. 
 " God s house is an hospital at one end, and a 
 palace at the other. In the hospital end are 
 Christ s members upon earth, conflicting with 
 various diseases, and confined to strict regimen of 
 his appointing. What sort of a patient would he 
 be, who would be sorry to be told that the hour is 
 come for his dismission from the hospital, and 
 to see the doors thrown wide open for his admis 
 sion into the presence of the King." * Happy are 
 the spirits who have ended their fight of faith, and 
 now live in the raptures of a sight of Him ; yea, 
 thrice happy are the lowest of those seraphs who 
 fly at his bidding, and do for ever behold the face 
 of our Father which is in heaven. The drought of 
 these dry plains stirreth us to desire the river of 
 the water of life ; the barren fig-trees of this weary 
 land urge us to pursue a speedy path to the immor- 
 
 * Adams s Private Tli oughts. 
 
392 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 tal trees upon the banks of the river of God ; our 
 clouds exhort us to fly above this lower sky up 
 where unclouded ages roll; the very thorns and 
 briars, the dust and heat of this world s pilgrimage 
 and strife, are powerful orators to excite our high 
 est thoughts to the things which are unseen and 
 eternal. Thus the bitterness of time bids us 
 desire the sweetness of immortality, and even 
 prepares us for it. 
 
 In times of distress, when the withdrawal of 
 Christ is caused by any of these causes, let the 
 saint 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 presence, but let us 
 remember that we are not saved by our enjoyments 
 of him, but by his efficacy for us. We are full of 
 sin, and in our distress we feel it, but lie 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 commu 
 nion, are the pillars 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 hangs upon him in the thick dark 
 ness, and glories in him in the storm. The pro 
 mise, like an anchor, holds us fast ; and, though 
 the pilot sleeps, all must be well. It is not our eve 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 393 
 
 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. Therefore are 
 we confident and full of hope, and we can sing 
 with our favourite poet 
 
 " Away, despair ; my gracious Lord doth hear, 
 Though winds and waves assault my keel, 
 He doth preserve it ; he doth steer, 
 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 and raptures. Faith is never more 
 likely to increase in strength than in times which 
 seem adverse to her. When she is lightened of trust 
 in joys, experiences, frames, feelings, and the like, 
 she rises the nearer heaven, like the balloon when 
 the bags of sand are emptied. Trust in thy 
 Redeemer s strength, thou benighted soul ; exercise 
 what faith thou hast, and by-and-by he shall arise 
 upon thee with healing beneath his wings. 
 
 * Herbert. 
 
 17* 
 
394: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUK. 
 
 The next and last case has been already 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 offences of any kind will drive 
 the King from the soul very speedily. Let the 
 believer bemire 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 blaspheme 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 the stye with swine, as Christ Jesus in 
 company with the filthy. Should we be left to 
 commit adultery like David, we shall have our 
 bones broken as he had ; if we swear like Peter, 
 we shall have to weep as bitterly as he ; and if we 
 flee like Jonah 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 back-slider while he is indulging 
 in his lusts. How terrible are the agonies of the 
 mind when 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 
 
CAUSES OF APPABENT DESERTION. 395 
 
 us, kindletli 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 whereof drink- 
 eth up our spirit. He setteth our iniquities before 
 himself, and our secret sins in the light of his 
 countenance ;f he setteth them also in our own 
 sight, and our sin is before us continually ;:f with 
 his hand he bindeth the yoke of our transgressions, 
 and with them being laid upon our neck he maketh 
 our strenth 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 ;T our veins are full of burning, 
 our heart is as wax ; it inelteth 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.^ 
 Then cry we out for grief of heart ; we roar like 
 bears, and mourn like doves ; looking for judg 
 ment, but there is none for salvation, but it is far 
 from us ; because our trespasses are many, both 
 
 * Job xix. 11 f Ps - xc - 8 - 
 
 \ Ps. li. 3. Lam. i. 14. 
 
 | Job xiii. 26. 1 Ps. xxxviii. 3, 5, 7. 
 
 ** Ps. xxii. 14, ft Ps - cii - 3 - 
 
 ft P*. xxxii. 4. Isa. lix. 11, 12. 
 
396 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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,f and is even angry against it,:): because our 
 iniquities have separated between us and him, and 
 our sins have hid his face from us, that he will not 
 hear; so 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 
 transgression, 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 1 between 
 our adorable Friend and our own heart. A little 
 filth acquired every day, if it be left unwashed, 
 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 con 
 science by a fresh application of the atoning blood. 
 Let us take heed that we offer the morning and 
 evening lamb, constantly looking to the blood of 
 
 * Job vii. 18. j. Lara. iii. 8. 
 
 \ Ps. Ixxx. 4. Isa. lix. 2 f 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 39? 
 
 the Great Sacrifice, and seeking a fresh discovery 
 of its cleansing power. 
 
 Neglect of prayer is a sad grief to the Hdy 
 Spirit, and will 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 
 sweet 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 embraces." 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 tarry at home shall lack. 
 
 Idleness in the ways of grace will also hinder 
 communion. If we travel slowly, and loiter on the 
 road, Jesus will go on before us, and sin will over 
 take us. If we are dilatory and lazy in the vine 
 yard, the Master will not smile on us when he 
 walks through his garden. Be active, 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. We should never mend our 
 pace on Heaven s road if our comforts did not fly 
 
398 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 
 
 ahead of us, so as to allure us to speed, by com 
 pelling us to pursue them. 
 
 Unthankfulness 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 unless he veil his face : there 
 fore, to chasten us for our ill manners, and incite 
 us to a more loving carriage towards him, he will 
 hide himself in darkness if we forget his good 
 ness. 
 
 Cowardice will also rob us of the Master s mani 
 fest presence. The ancient saints who at any time, 
 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 ashamed 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 company, 
 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 dagger, 
 set her mouth to the wound to suck out the poison, 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 399 
 
 venturing her own life to preserve her husband. 
 Such is the strengh 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 himself than allow it to fall on his 
 Master. But if this noble spirit shall give place to 
 mean self-seeking, and 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 may bring 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 with the tender-hearted and 
 timid. When we hear a strong professor dealing 
 roughly with any of the Lord s afflicted, as sure as 
 he is an heir heaven he will in due time have cause 
 to eat his words. That is an unhumbled heart 
 which can allow hard thoughts concerning the 
 little ones ; and God will put that proud spirit into 
 the dark until it 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 
 
400 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 
 
 believer 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 through great and 
 unmerited mercy. "When we become conceited 
 with our choice experiences, admirable emotions, 
 and marvellous discoveries, 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 countenance in a short space, unless it be 
 destroyed. Rivals Jesus will not endure ; and 
 unless we give him the highest throne he will leave 
 us to mourn his absence. Love not thy wealth, 
 thy name, thy friends, thy life, thy comfort, thy 
 husband, thy wife, or thy children, 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 worth the idolatry which will surely engender 
 it. Set not your affections on things of earth, lest 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 401 
 
 the comfortable enjoyment of Him who is from 
 above should be withdrawn from thee. 
 
 Unbelief, distrust, and worldly care, will also 
 provoke him to return unto his place. If we can 
 not 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 fellowship 
 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 himself, 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 our 
 selves 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 pro 
 vidential consideration. 
 
 But carnal security is the master-sin in this 
 point. Hence, Bunyan makes a feast in the house 
 of that deceitful old Diabolian, Mr. Carnal-Security, 
 
402 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 the scene of the discovery of the departure of 
 Prince Immanuel. There is in carnal security a 
 mixture of all other kinds of sin. It is a monster 
 composed of the deformities of all the foul sins 
 which man can commit. It is ingratitude, pride, 
 worldliness, sloth, inordinate affection, evil con 
 cupiscence 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 grows 
 in the heart, and destroys our implicit dependence 
 and our unfeigned humility, it will not be long 
 before Christ and the soul will be far apart so far 
 as any comfortable communion is concerned. 
 
 It only remains to add that as we are differently 
 constituted, 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 know 
 ledge, is quite sufficient to cast the mind into the 
 doleful condition of a deserted soul. Constant 
 watchfulness is necessary in order to the preserva 
 tion of communion : but of this we will say more 
 in another place. 
 
 It will be hard work to sustain faith when sin 
 is arrived at such a dangerous height ; but in order 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 403 
 
 that the believer may be able to do so, by the 
 divine power of the Holy Spirit, let him reflect 
 that his present mournful condition is no sign 
 that he is cast away nay, let him believe it to be 
 the very reverse. If the Lord Jesus had not 
 looked upon him, he would never have known how 
 evil a 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 Sun of righteousness. But if this is too high 
 a comfort, let him remember that there is still a 
 fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness ; 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-deserv- 
 ings, but let him remember that his sin is laid 
 upon the head of Jesus. Punishment for sin is not 
 in any degree mixed up with the withdrawal 
 which he is now experiencing. The believer owes 
 nothing to punitive justice, and therefore nothing 
 can be exacted of him. " Though the sufferings 
 of Christ do not secure us from sufferings, they 
 change the nature and design of our afflictions, 
 so that, instead of their being punishments, they 
 are corrections, and are inflicted not by the sword 
 of the Judge, but by the rod of the Father." * Let 
 
 * Jay s Christian Contemplated. 
 
404 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOTJK. 
 
 the believer hear the voice of comfort : " Thou 
 hast not a farthing of debt to pay to God s law ; 
 there is no indictment against thee, nor a bill for 
 thee to answer Christ has paid all." * Christ s 
 departure is not for thy death, but to promote thy 
 better life. He is not gone to demand a writ 
 against thee, he is but absent to make thee purge 
 out the old leaven, that he may come and keep the 
 feast with thee. 
 
 Eemember also that a change in the outward 
 dealings of the Lord Jesus is not to be looked 
 upon as an alteration in his love. He has as 
 much affection for us when he puts us in the 
 prison-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 immutability is stamped as much upon the 
 affection of Christ as upon his divinity itself, it 
 follows that our variable condition 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 
 
 * Colling s Cordial for a Dying Soul. 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 405 
 
 comforted himself and his friends in a time of 
 gloom " The mother sometimes beateth the child, 
 but yet her heart 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 saith he, c 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. 5 Ah, comfortable saying ! 
 I will not forget thee." 
 
 Wait awhile, and the light which is sown for the 
 righteous shall bring forth a harvest of delights; 
 but water the ground with the tears of thy repent 
 ance, 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 the sin which has caused 
 
 * See p. 142. 
 
406 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 certainly be rewarded 
 in due time. 
 
 May God the Holy Spirit, by his divine influence, 
 bedew with grace the pages of this chapter, that 
 they may minister grace to the afflicted reader. 
 
TO THE UNCONVERTED READER. 
 
 SINNER, we beseech tliee 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 sor- 
 sows, 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 lukewarmness, my cold and sluggish prayers, 
 my lost and misimproved 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 con 
 sciences are awakened, to be a heavy and intolera 
 ble burden ; they will press you down to hell 
 itself. I could not have thought that the dis- 
 
 * Rev. Timothy Rogers, M.A. 
 
408 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 pleasure of God had been a thing so bitter, and so 
 very dreadful. It is a fearful thing to fall into 
 the hands of the living God, for he is a consuming 
 fire : if his anger be kindled but a little, you can 
 not 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 terrors of the Lord, do 
 most earnestly persuade you to forsake every sin ; 
 for if you indulge in and love your iniquities, they 
 will set you on fire round about. Oh, that you 
 did but know what you do when you sin ! You 
 are opposing that authority that will avenge itself 
 of all its obstinate opposers ; you are heaping up 
 fuel for your own destruction ; you are whetting 
 that sword which will enter into your bowels ; you 
 are preparing yourselves for bitterness 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 tears, and all your false con 
 fidence 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 has weighed your 
 actions, and observed your wanderings, shall call 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 409 
 
 you to give an account of all these things ? If 
 our blessed Lord, when he came near Jerusalem, 
 lifted up his voice and wept, saying, Oh, that 
 thou hadst known, 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 misery, and, alas, they 
 know it not ! Can we see them sleeping on the 
 very edge of ruin, and not be greatly troubled for 
 them ! Oh, poor sinners, you are now sleeping, 
 but the judge is at the door j you are rolling the 
 pleasant morsel under your tongue, but it will be 
 great vexation to you in the end. How can you 
 rest ? 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 thick bosses of 
 his buckler, not to dare his justice, not to despise 
 his threats as once it was our folly : but we knew 
 not what we did. We are come out of great tribu 
 lation, and a fiery furnace, and we would fain per 
 suade you to avoid the like danger ; let what we 
 have felt be a caution to you. It was the desire 
 
 18 
 
410 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUB. 
 
 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 sor 
 row 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 off 
 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 dan 
 ger as some of you, and we fell among thieves ; 
 they plundered 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 Sama 
 ritan, 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, 
 
CAUSES OF APPARENT DESERTION. 411 
 
 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 by fire y but we suffered, while they 
 remained, very great loss. Some, perhaps, will be 
 saying within themselves, I shall see no evil, 
 though I walk in the imaginations of my own heart. 
 These things you talk of are the mere product of a 
 melancholy temper^ that always presages the worst 
 that is always frighting itself and others with 
 Hack and formidable ideas / and seeing I am no 
 way inclinable to that distemper ( , / 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. If 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 unfear- 
 ing 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 the greatest distance from it." 
 
 " Ye bold, blaspheming souls, 
 
 Whose conscience nothing scares; 
 Ye carnal, cold, professing fools, 
 Whose state s as bad as theirs. 
 
4:12 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 " 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. 
 COMMUNION PRESERVED. 
 
 But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us, for it is toward 
 evening, and the day is far spent." LUKE xxiv. 29. 
 
 THESE 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 welcome in the hearts 
 and homes of the elect. His name to our ears is 
 ever melodious, and we love that conversation best 
 which is fullest of it. We would willingly afford 
 the chamber on the wall, the table, the stool, and 
 the candlestick, to all those who will talk conti 
 nually 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, 
 
 * Luke xxiv. 17. 
 
 418 
 
414: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 " Then they that feared the Lord spake often one 
 to 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 will spare them as a man spare th 
 his own son that serveth 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 
 bubbling forth at the mouth." 
 
 O 
 
 "We often miss our Lord s company, because our 
 conversation 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 only products of the soil, he will soon be 
 away to the true beds of spices. When two walk 
 together, and are agreed in solemn discourse con 
 cerning heavenly things, Jesus will soon make a 
 third. So here, on this journey to Emmaus, the 
 Saviour, though they " knew him not, because 
 their eyes were holden," did so wondronsly con 
 verse with them, that their "hearts burned within 
 them." He who would stay a man in the street 
 
 * Mai. iii. 16, 17. f Cant. vi. 2. 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 415 
 
 would naturally call out his name; and he who 
 would bring Jesus into his soul must frequently 
 pronounce his charming name. 
 
 The Lord having graciously conversed with 
 these favoured travellers, essays to leave them, 
 and continue his journey, but they constrain him 
 to remain, and at their earnest suit he does so. 
 From this pleasing little incident let us glean one 
 or two lessons. 
 
 I. When we have the Saviour s company for a 
 little while, we shall not he content until we have 
 more of it. These holy men were not content to 
 let him go, but would have him tarry with them all 
 night. There are certain liquors which men drink 
 that are said to increase thirst ; it is most true of 
 this rich " wine on the lees," that the more we 
 drink of it the more we desire. Nor will the 
 draught be forbidden us, or prove in any way 
 injurious, for the spouse bids us " drink, yea, drink 
 abundantly." The soul which has enjoyed commu 
 nion with Jesus will never agree that it has dwelt 
 long enough on the mount: it will far rather build 
 a tabernacle for itself and its master. Never is a 
 Christian tired of his Redeemer s society, but, like 
 Abraham, he cries, "My Lord, if now I have 
 found favour in thy sight, pass not away, I pray 
 thee, from thy servant." Any plea will be urged 
 to persuade our Lord to remain. Is it evening ? 
 
416 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 we will plead that the day is far spent, and we 
 shall need him to cheer our midnight hours. Is it 
 morning ? we will tell him that we fear to begin 
 the day without a long visit from him. Is it noon ? 
 we will urge that the sun is hot, and we shall faint 
 unless he allows us to sit beneath his shadow. We 
 will always find some reason for his remaining, for 
 love s logic is inexhaustible. If he would become 
 our constant guest we should never weary of his 
 company. A thousand years would seem but as 
 one day if all the time we might lay our head upon 
 his bosom ; yea, eternity itself shall need no other 
 source of joy since this perennial stream is ever 
 running. When our wondering eyes have admired 
 the beauties of our Saviour for millions of years 
 we shall be quite as willing to continue the medita 
 tion, supremely blest with that Heaven which our 
 eyes shall drink in from his wounded hands and 
 side. The marrow of heaven is Jesus ; and as we 
 shall never be surfeited with bliss, so we shall 
 never have too much of Jesus. Fresh glories are 
 discovered in him every hour; his person, work, 
 offices, character, affection, and relationships, are 
 each of them clusters of stars which the eye of 
 contemplation will view with unutterable astonish 
 ment as they are in their order revealed to the 
 mind. The saint who has longest tenanted the 
 mansions of glory will confess that the presence 
 of the Saviour has not ceased to be his bliss, nor 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 417 
 
 has the freshness of the pleasure been in the least 
 diminished. Christ is a flower, but he fadeth not; 
 he is a river, but he is never dry ; he is a sun, but 
 he knoweth no eclipse ; he is all in all, but he is 
 something more than all. He that longs not for 
 Christ hath not seen him, and by just so much as 
 man has tasted of the sweetness of Jesus will he be 
 hungry and thirsty after more of him. Men who 
 are content with a manifestation once in a month 
 will soon become so dull that once a year will suit 
 them ; but he who has a visit from the Saviour 
 very frequently will be panting for fresh views of 
 him every day yea, and every hour of the day. 
 He will never lack appetite for spiritual things 
 who lives much on them. The poor professor may 
 be content with a few of Christ s pence now and 
 then, but he who is rich in grace thinks so small 
 an income beneath his station, and cannot live 
 unless he has golden gifts from the hand of his 
 Lord ; he will covet earnestly this best of gifts, 
 and be a very miser after the precious things of 
 the cross. John Owen, the most sober of theolo 
 gians, falls into a perfect ecstasy when touching 
 on this subject. In expounding Cant. viii. 6, Y, he 
 gives us the following glowing passage : " The 
 intendment of what is so loftily set out by so many 
 metaphors in these verses is, C I am not able to 
 bear the workings of my love to thee, unless I may 
 always have society and fellowship with thee. 
 
418 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 There is no satisfying of my love without it. It As 
 as the grave, that still says, Give ! give ! Death 
 is not satisfied without its prey. If it have not all 
 it has nothing. Let what will happen, if death 
 hath not its whole desire it hath nothing at all. 
 Nor can it be withstood in its appointed season ; 
 no ransom will be taken. So is my love ; if I 
 have thee not wholly I have nothing. Nor can all 
 the world bribe it to a diversion; it will be no 
 more turned aside than death in its time. Alas ! I 
 am not able to bear my jealous thoughts; I fear 
 thou dost not love me that thou hast forsaken me, 
 because I know I deserve not" to be beloved. 
 These thoughts are hard as hell ; they give no rest 
 to my soul. If I find not myself on thy heart and 
 arm, I am as one that lies down in a led of 
 coals" The absence of the Saviour deprives the 
 believer of more than joy or light ; it seems to 
 destroy his very life, and sap the foundations of his 
 being. Let us seek then to hold the king in his 
 galleries. 
 
 II. "We remark, in the next place, that if we 
 would keep the Saviour with us, we must constrain 
 him. Jesus will not tarry if he is not pressed to do 
 so. Not that he is ever weary of his people, but 
 because he would have them show their sense of 
 his value. In the case before us, it is said, " he 
 made as if he would go further." This he did to 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 419 
 
 >ry their affection. " Not," says Ness, " that he 
 had any purpose to depart from them, but to prove 
 them how they prized him, and accounted of his 
 company. Therefore this ought not to be misim- 
 proved to countenance any kind of sinful dissimil 
 ation. If Solomon might make as though he 
 would do an act that in its own nature was unlaw 
 ful (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 
 with 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 in 
 trude himself where he is not wanted ; he needs no 
 lodging, for the heaven of heavens is his perpetual 
 palace, and there be many hearts of the contrite 
 where he will find a hearty welcome. 
 
 When we have the honour of a visit from Prince 
 Immanuel let everything be done to protract it. 
 
 * 1 Kings, iii. 24. 
 
420 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 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 familiarity, 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. 5 
 True, tis amazing grace which can allow such a 
 liberty with the person of so exalted a being ; but 
 seeing 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 ? ~No 
 
 " We will maintain our hold ; 
 Tis his goodness makes us bold." 
 
 How can we then prolong our communion with the 
 Saviour ? Let us reply to the question by sundry 
 directions, 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 alHrespassers ; 
 yea, slay the Diabolians who lurk in thy soul. If 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 421 
 
 we would enjoy uninterrupted fellowship with the 
 Son of God, we must institute a rigid inquisition 
 against all kinds of sin. A little evil will at times 
 mar our peace, just as a small stone in the shoe will 
 spoil our walking. Tender are the shoots of this 
 vine of communion, and little foxes will do no 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 profane," my heart is the temple of 
 Jesus, and ye must not defile its hallowed places. 
 If they retire not, get to thyself the scourge of re 
 pentance and self-mortification, and if it be laid on 
 lustily they will not long abide the blows. 
 
 It behoves us to remember, also, that there are 
 other things besides sins which may become offen 
 sive to the Saviour. The nearest friend, the part 
 ner 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 
 
4:22 THE SAINT AND HIS SAYIOUE. 
 
 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 con 
 cealed 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 
 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 memories ; so will he dwell 
 in the city of David and ride through your midst 
 in his chariot paved with love for you : but if ye 
 pay homage to any save himself, he will return 
 unto his place and make your beauteous city a by 
 word with the enemy. Have no fellowship with 
 strangers, if you desire manifestations of love from 
 the adorable Jesus. " Let none be your love and 
 choice, and the flower of your delights, but your 
 Lord Jesus. Set not your heart upon the world, 
 since God hath not made it your portion ; for it 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 423 
 
 will not fall to you to get two portions, and to re 
 joice twice, and to be happy twice, and to have an 
 upper heaven and an under heaven too. Most of 
 us have a lover and idol besides our husband, 
 Christ ; but it is our folly to divide our narrow and 
 little love; it will not serve for two. It is best 
 then to hold it whole and together, and to give it 
 to Christ ; for then we get double interest for 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 
 Synagogue 
 
 " 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, even now a base, rebellious thought 
 
 Began to move, 
 And subtly twining with me would have wrought 
 
 Me from my love : 
 Fain he would have me to believe that Sin 
 
 And thou might both 
 Take up my heart together for your inn, 
 
 And neither loathe 
 The other s company ; a while sit still, 
 
 And part again." 
 
4:24: THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 2. Give the Saviour a goodly entertainment, fit 
 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 fattest 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 
 monarch ? 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 we could give 
 our all to win the constant indwelling of Jesus. 
 Princes have melted pearls into the wine where 
 with 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 Eedeemer, he loves to see 
 his dearly-purchased people confessing that they 
 are not their own. Oh, brethren in the Gospel, do 
 more if ye would receive more ; give more largely 
 and ye shall be cheered more abundantly. The 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 425 
 
 self-denying missionary, the laborious pastor, the 
 earnest evangelist, and the indefatigable church 
 member, are generally the persons invited to the 
 royal banquets of Jesus. He delights to honour 
 the men who wait at his gates with diligence, and 
 watch for his coining with vigilance. Faithful ser 
 vice shall never be unrewarded by the master ? 
 notice, and continuance in well-doing shall receive 
 as its recompence a perpetuity of approbation. 
 Hold thou the Saviour, oh believer ! by hands 
 ready for service 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 
 lung 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 ^vhen 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 up from him ; 
 give him the range of every room, and the key 
 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 one 
 
426 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 more 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 con 
 cerns rne, that if thou dost not regard me, I know 
 not whither to resort." Thus she will hold her 
 confidant 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 careth 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 
 somewhere says, " He who runs before the cloud 
 of divine direction goeth a fool s errand :" let us 
 then desist from self-serving, and give ourselves up 
 like children to the loving care of a tender parent, 
 to be led, guided, directed, and supplied by our 
 great Covenant Head ; so will he always 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 perchanco 
 some ill word of ours might urge him to depart, 
 yet, for the sake of others who sit with him, he will 
 remain. One of these disciples migh not have con- 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 427 
 
 strained 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 travel 
 ler, 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 
 likely to have a goodly share of Emmanuel s com 
 pany. Cannot my reader add his own testimony 
 to the fact that fellowship with the saints is 
 conducive to a continuance of fellowship 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 sup 
 plication 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 invincible weapon, 
 a victory over the Omnipotent, the sweet consump 
 tion of cares, a box of ointment broken on the 
 
428 THE SAINT AND HIS SAVIOUR. 
 
 head of Christ, the perfume of heaven, the mount 
 of transfiguration, 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 lingers long with dumb 
 souls ; if there be no crying out to him, he loves 
 not silence, and he departs and betakes himself to 
 those hearts which are full of the music of prayer. 
 What a marvellous influence prayer has upon our 
 fellowship 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 other 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 exhorta 
 tion ? 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 sighings for his presence. 
 Then let it be thy concern to find him, and, having 
 
COMMUNION PRESERVED. 429 
 
 found him, to constrain him to abide with thee for 
 ever. 
 
 " Oh, that we could for ever sit 
 With Mary, at the Master s feet ; 
 
 Be this our happy choice, 
 Our only care, delight, and bliss, 
 Our joy, our heaven on earth be this, 
 
 To hear the Bridegroom s voice. 
 
 " Oh, that we could with favour d John, 
 Recline our weary heads upon 
 
 The dear Redeemer s breast ! 
 From care, and sin, and sorrow free, 
 Give us, Lord, to find in thee 
 Our everlasting rest." 
 
 In a short time it will be our joy to hold further 
 converse with each other, upon various important 
 points of our knowledge of Christ. "We trust we 
 shall then be privileged to enter more fully into the 
 mysteries of communion, 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. 
 
TO THE UNCONYEKTED HEADER 
 
 WHO IS UNDER CONCERN OF SOUL. 
 
 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 your life, 
 and are lamenting the follies of your youth. You 
 fear there is no hope of pardon, no prospect of for 
 giveness, 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 sinner, 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, 
 
 430 
 
COMMUNION PKESERVED. 431 
 
 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 thee. 
 
 " None but Jesus, none but Jesus, 
 Can do helpless sinners good." 
 
 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 one day to sing hallelujah to 
 the condescending Lord ; till then may the God of 
 all grace be our helper. Amen. 
 
482 
 
 UNTO HIM THAT LOVED US, 
 AND 
 
 WASHED US FROM OUR SINS IN HIS 
 
 * 
 
 OWN BLOOD, 
 AND HATH MADE US KINGS AND PRIESTS 
 
 UNTO 
 
 GOD AND OUR FATHER; 
 
 TO HIM BE GLORY AND DOMINION, 
 
 FOR EVER AND EVER, 
 
 AMEN. 
 
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