LIIBRARY 
 
 OF THK 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH. 
 
 Received October, 1894. 
 Accessions No.St . Class No. 
 
S. W. BENEDICT, PRINTER, 128 FULTON ST. 
 
KRUMMACHER'S WORKS 
 
JACOB 
 WRESTLING WITH THE ANGEL 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 ON GENESIS CHAPTER XXXIL 
 
JACOB WRESTLING WITH THE ANGEL, 
 
 Now, by that touch, Mysterious man ! I know 
 Thy nature's more than human ! Let thee go ! 
 Not till thou bless me. If, through all the night, 
 My daring, struggling limbs increas'd in might ; 
 If thou thy strength attempered e'en to mine, 
 If thus resisting I o'ermastered thine ; 
 Then wilt thou too, my daring speech approve, 
 For all thy wrestling was but tender love ! 
 My name is JACOB thou hast made me bold, 
 Thine arms that have repell'd me, must enfold ! 
 Thou shall, Oh Wondrous Stranger ! e'er we part 
 Stamp thine eternal blessing on my heart ! 
 
 Thy name no more is JACOB ! Thou hast seen 
 By faith's keen vision, what thy trials mean ! 
 Thy name is ISRAEL ! Knighted Prince of God ! 
 For thou with him the wrestling ring hast trod ! 
 Nay cease ! Ask not for my peculiar name, 
 Enough to know 'twill put thy foes to shame : 
 Take this white stone 'tis deeply graven there, 
 With thine, a token of prevailing prayer ! 
 Forth to thy work thy darkest clangers brave, 
 My name goes with thee, and 'tis strong to save ! 
 
 AMERICAN EDITOK. 
 
.> OV.7 
 
 sivs 
 
 JACOB 
 WRESTLING WITH THE ANGEL. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 24. 
 
 -An</ Jacob was left alone : and there wrestled a man with him 
 until the breaking of the day. 
 
 THE verse we have just read, forms a part of one of 
 the most wonderful narratives contained in the Holy 
 Scriptures ; and upon which we intend to meditate on 
 this and some future occasions. 
 
 Strengthened and refreshed by the promise, ' I will 
 do thee good,' the Patriarch Jacob, at the express 
 command of his God, had removed from Haran, where 
 for a long period he had served his uncle Laban, in 
 order to return to his native land. This displeased 
 Laban so much, that he went in pursuit of his son-in- 
 law, and overtook him on Mount Gilead. His anger 
 was inflamed against him to such a degree, that he 
 would certainly have done the Patriarch a serious in- 
 jury : since he boasted that, with the help of God, he 
 had power enough for that purpose, if God had not 
 forbidden this Syrian, in a dream, to take heed not to 
 
10 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 speak otherwise than in a friendly manner to him : al- 
 though Rachel was, nevertheless, in peril of her life. 
 At length every thing was amicably settled, and they 
 parted in a peaceful and friendly manner. Laban 
 turned back ; and whilst Jacob was proceeding on his 
 journey, he was met, to his great comfort, by the angels 
 of God. Thus pleasingly was he extricated from this 
 trying situation. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had he been rescued from this 
 danger, then he fell into another of a much more seri- 
 ous nature. The fury of his brother Esau, and his 
 threat, c The days of mourning for my father are at 
 hand, then will I slay my brother Jacob,' had compell- 
 ed the latter to seek his safety in flight. When he re- 
 turned into Esau's neighborhood, his first concern was 
 to gain his favor. He attempted to accomplish this 
 by sending messengers to him ; who, in the humblest 
 terms, were to endeavor to secure his good will. But 
 they soon returned with the intelligence, that his bro- 
 ther Esau was coming to meet him, with four hun- 
 dred men. * Then Jacob was greatly afraid and dis- 
 tressed ;' and that with reason : for what other inten- 
 tions could Esau have than such as were hostile 7 And 
 what had Jacob to oppose to such a host ? Nothing ; 
 not even flight. What a distressing and helpless sit- 
 uation ! O God, into what painful circumstances dost 
 thou sometimes suffer thy favorites to fall ; and yet it 
 is only for the attainment of the most blessed ends. 
 
 Jacob's anxiety, however, is not so great as to deprive 
 him of all reflection ; although his confidence in God is 
 not lively enough to render him as courageous as a young 
 
SERMON I. 11 
 
 lion. He makes such prudent arrangements that the 
 possibility of escape it afforded to one part should the 
 other be destroyed by Esau. Nor did he neglect any 
 thing which seemed likely to reconcile Esau and win 
 his heart : to which several considerable presents, which 
 he prepared for that purpose, were intended to contri- 
 bute. 
 
 But the pious Patriarch did not let the matter rest 
 there ; he did not ground his confidence upon these ar- 
 rangements, but upon God. In the midst of his anx- 
 ious preparations, he applied to Him by earnest prayer, 
 which emanated from the depth of his distress. He ap- 
 pears openly before his covenant God ; he frankly con- 
 fesses his fears, and does not conceal his wretchedness ; 
 he thanks Him for all his former undeserved benefits; he 
 bows himself in deep humility ; he cleaves by faith to 
 the command and gracious promise of the Lord ' Thou, 
 saidst, I will surely do thee good ;' he cleaves to the 
 power and goodness of God, and beseeches Him to de- 
 liver him. He passed a sleepless night in making the 
 arrangements he thought necessary ; and conducted his 
 flocks, his family, and his people over the brook Jabbok. 
 
 He was then left entirely alone : which he preferred, 
 as being the best suited for his state of mind at the time. 
 He was desirous of pouring out his heart still more fully 
 before the Lord ; of praying still more fervently ; of 
 pressing to the throne of Grace, unhindered by external 
 things, at a time when he required help. The good 
 hand of God which was extended over him, drew him 
 into this retirement, because it had something great and 
 particular in view with him. 
 
12 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 It was night : a season calculated in itself to excite a 
 feeling of awe. The heavens above him, with their 
 countless stars, reminded him of the promise given to 
 his holy forefather, and sealed it to him also, that thus 
 numerous should his descendants be. The gloomy earth 
 was full of terrors to him, and Esau not far off; perhaps 
 even very near. His help was solely in the name of 
 the Lord, who made heaven and earth. What a bless- 
 ed night he had already once enjoyed, when sleeping in 
 a desert with a stone beneath his head, and when heav- 
 en opened itself above him ! But this was a night of 
 anxious fear. It was not only night around the holy Pa- 
 triarch, but it had also become dark in his soul. He was 
 greatly afraid. This fear seemed to be justified by the 
 circumstances in which he was placed : yet still it had 
 its root in his want of faith ; and if Christ blamed his 
 disciples on account of the unbelieving fear which 
 they manifested in the most imminent danger of death, 
 Jacob was also deserving of a similar reproof on account 
 of similar misconduct ; although that must be an uncom- 
 mon confidence, which can preserve us from fear under 
 such appalling circumstances. 
 
 Jacob was manifestly, according to the expression 
 of the Apostle, ' not perfect in love ;' for the latter 
 expels fear. Fear, however, proceeds more especially 
 from an evil and defiled conscience. No sooner had 
 Adam incurred the latter by his disobedience, than he 
 was afraid, and fled from the face of God. A guilty 
 conscience is like a dangerous and poisonous impost- 
 hume in the individual, which finally prepares him for 
 the flames of hell, unless healed by the blood of 
 
SERMON I. 13 
 
 Christ, the only remedy. This alone, appropriated by 
 the power of the Holy Spirit, brings peace. Who 
 does not know that Jacob was an object of God's love, 
 and therefore also a partaker of this peace. But as the 
 renovation of the children of God here upon earth is 
 progressive, so this part of it is particularly so, and is 
 more obvious when trying occasions and circumstances 
 occur, than at other tunes. Besides which, God, as Mo- 
 ses says in Psalm xc., places, in the times of visitation, 
 'our trangressions before him, and our secret sins in the 
 light of his countenance. He begins, at some after- 
 period, to reckon with his servants, and to set before 
 their eyes what they have done ; and then is fulfilled 
 what is written in Psalm xcix. 8, ( Thou answeredst 
 them, thou forgavest them, though thou tookest ven- 
 geance of their inventions.' They are perhaps not 
 sufficiently aw r are of the greatness of the guilt ; its 
 abominable and culpable nature, and the aggravating 
 circumstances which attend it. They have not been 
 rendered sufficiently contrite, humble, and heart-broken 
 on account of it ; they have not sufficiently accused 
 themselves before God because of it ; they have been 
 desirous of excusing, if not of justifying themselves in 
 some measure ; their hatred to sin is perhaps not suffi- 
 ciently powerful ; their desire for deliverance, and their 
 gratitude on account of it, not sufficiently ardent. 
 They must be made to ascend higher, and to descend 
 deeper. Their self-knowledge is to receive an addi- 
 tion, and their view of the real nature, extent, necessi- 
 ty, and preciousness of Divine grace, to become bright- 
 er. Their conscience is to be rendered more tender, 
 2* 
 
14 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 their walk more circumspect, their looking unto the 
 Lord more fixed, their abiding in Him and his abiding 
 in them more intimate ; and themselves, generally 
 speaking, more fit for every good work, by faith in 
 Christ Jesus. The potter takes the clay into his form- 
 ing hand, and purifies and ennobles it from one 
 degree to another. The path of the child of God is 
 from faith to faith, from strength to strength. The 
 fruitfulness which was at first but thirty-fold, becomes 
 sixty-fold, and the latter an hundred-fold. In the blade 
 the ear is formed ; the latter shoots pleasingly forth 
 from its envelopement, and fills itself with corn, which 
 ripens in the sunshine and the storm. The child be- 
 comes a youth, the youth a man and a father in Christ ; 
 in whom, as the Head, they all grow together in all 
 things. Such is the conduct of the Father with his 
 elect, whom he has chosen in Christ, before the foun- 
 dation of the world, that they might be holy and with- 
 out blame before him in love ; and such was the path 
 by which he led Jacob whom he loved. 
 
 Something had occured in the life of this Patriarch, 
 which was out of order, and this was the blessing of his 
 father. Isaac intended to have bestowed it upon Esau ; 
 but with the assistance of his mother, who gave the 
 preference to Jacob, even as Isaac strangely did to Esau, 
 he deprived Esau of the blessing intended for him, and 
 procured its bestowment upon himself. We know the 
 artful manner in which this was accomplished, and 
 how the old blind patriarch was deceived, who took 
 Jacob for Esau, and blessed him instead of the latter. 
 It is true that the blessing descended upon him for 
 
SERMON I. 15 
 
 whom God had intended it. For before the children 
 were born, and had done neither good nor evil, it was 
 said to Rebecca, the elder shall serve the younger, in 
 order ' that the purpose of God according to election 
 might stand, not of works but of Him that calleth, as 
 it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I 
 hated.' It is true also, that Isaac, on afterwards learn- 
 ing the real state of the case, instead of retracting his 
 blessing, confirmed it, and did not suffer a single word 
 of disapprobation to fall, respecting the manner in 
 which he had been deceived and imposed upon. But 
 deception continues to be deception, and consequently 
 sinful and not to be excused but reproved, in whatever 
 cause it may be employed. Some, indeed, with the 
 venerable Luther at their head, have not only excused 
 the mode of acting of Rebecca and her son, but have 
 even justified and defended it as the consequence of a 
 noble faith. Jacob, however, did not regard it in this 
 light, but was apprehensive, lest by such conduct he 
 should have inherited a curse instead of a blessing from 
 his father ; and when his mother endeavored to paci- 
 fy liim by saying, i Upon me be thy curse, my son !' 
 it is evident she means nothing by it, and is a proof 
 that she was unable to make a proper reply. To de- 
 fend such a transaction, is in reality only to maintain 
 the abominable position, that the end sanctifies the 
 means. But this is certain, that God never fails of at- 
 taining his aim, and that even the improper conduct of 
 individuals must promote the accomplishment of his 
 purposes. Yet these improprieties are not thereby jus- 
 tified ; otherwise the curse on account of the crucifix- 
 
16 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 ion of Christ, would have unjustly adhered to the Jews 
 to the present day. ' Shall we do evil, that good 
 may come ? God forbid !' The condemnation of 
 those who act from such a motive is just. 
 
 Those words in Psalm I. are often verified, ' These 
 things hast thou done and I kept silence : but I will 
 reprove thee, and set them in order before thine eyes.' 
 Jacob's conduct in that affair now seemed ready to 
 avenge itself upon him, and he might be apprehensive 
 of the curse, respecting which he had previously so 
 easily satisfied himself with the unmeaning words of 
 his mother. How easily might such thoughts as the 
 following occur to him : " Thy father did not in reali- 
 ty bless thee, but Esau, his first born, for whom thou 
 didst give thyself out. The blessing has no reference 
 to thee. Thou art a deceiver, and that of the basest 
 kind. Although thou hast imposed upon thy venera- 
 ble father, and abused his lamentable blindness, which 
 ought to have induced thee to act with the greatest sin- 
 cerity ; yet the eye of God has only been the more 
 acutely fixed upon thee ; thou hast been unable to de- 
 ceive Him. Thou art a deceiver ; thou art worthy of 
 death ! And lo ! Esau, who was blessed in thy per- 
 son, is now coming against thee with four hundred 
 men, to execute, as a servant of Divine justice, the 
 sentence of death upon thee ! Thou oughtest to have 
 acknowledged, confessed, and made reparation for thy 
 fault. The long-restrained wrath of God is awaking 
 over thee. It is now too late. How couldst thou 
 dare, how could such a man as thou venture to suppose 
 that God had said to thee, ' I will do thee good.' 
 
SERMON I. 17 
 
 Wilt thou make God the minister of sin, by supposing 
 that he will be gracious to such a wretch as thou art ? 
 The Devil must have been justly permitted to suggest 
 such pleasing thoughts to thee, in order the more infal- 
 libly to destroy thee. Instead of making the com- 
 mencement with repentance, thou hast imagined thy- 
 self, to thy own injury, in a state of grace. It will 
 now be proved. Esau what a noble character he is 
 compared with thee ! He has threatened thee with 
 death ; and what else dost thou deserve at his hands ? 
 Hast thou not most basely endeavored to rob and mur- 
 der him, by cunningly stealing the blessing intended 
 for, and in reality pronounced upon him ? ' Be Lord 
 over thy brother !' it was said in the blessing which 
 thou didst so unjustly seek to appropriate to thyself. 
 Dost thou not now evidently see who has experienced 
 the fulfilment of it 1 Thou, a poor servant ; he, a 
 lord with four hundred men ; and thou entirely in his 
 hand, O thou poor deceived Jacob ! Where is there a 
 poorer man than tlfou V 9 And he lifted up his voice 
 and wept bitterly. 
 
 And are you, my friends, entirely unacquainted with 
 trials of this kind ? I can scarcely suppose it, unless 
 you are novices in the Christian course. You have put 
 on the armor. Until you are at liberty to put it off, 
 many things may occur, of which it is unnecessary now 
 to speak in detail. Let this suffice ; if you are children, 
 call upon the Father, who without respect of persons, 
 judgeth according to every man's work. Therefore pass 
 the time of your sojourning here in fear. If you are 
 children, you will not be without chastisement ; and the 
 
18 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 dearer the child the sharper the discipline. David once 
 said when it went well with him, ' I shall never be 
 moved ;' for the Lord, in his mercy, had made his moun- 
 tain to stand strong. But no sooner did he hide his face 
 than he was troubled. Therefore be not high-minded, 
 but humble. Be not self-confident, but take heed lest 
 thou fall, whilst thinking thou art standing. Boast not 
 thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day 
 may bring forth. Build thy house upon the rock, and 
 take heed lest thou regard that as a rock, which is not 
 so in reality. And though it be the rock, yet remember 
 how easily thou mayest build wood and stubble upon it, 
 which the fire will destroy. If it be genuine gold, it 
 must still pass through the fire. For the fire shall try 
 every man's work of what sort it is. 6 Thy filthiness 
 is so abominable,' it is said in Ezekiel xxiv. 13, ' that 
 although I have purged thee, yet thou wast not cleansed, 
 therefore thou shalt not be purged from thy filthiness 
 any more, till I have caused my fury to rest upon thee.' 
 The holy Patriarch wrestled in faith with the tempta- 
 tions above-mentioned, and prayed, or at least wished 
 to do so, and to hold converse with the Lord. The fol- 
 lowing was probably his train of thought and anxious 
 inquiry : " Art thou then really my God and Father, or 
 art thou so no longer ? Have I deceived myself in firmly 
 believing, that notwithstanding all my un worthiness, 
 thou lovest me, that I might be so much the more to the 
 praise of the glory of thy grace, after seeing and tasting 
 it, and when I loved and praised thee on account of it ? 
 Certainly it can never be. But the feeling of it is now 
 so much obscured, and so doubtful, that I can no longer 
 
SERMON I. 19 
 
 rejoice in it ; especially now, in this my time of trouble, 
 when I so particularly need it. O look upon me there- 
 fore in mercy, and cause thy face to shine ! Cast a 
 friendly ray into my darkness." 
 
 In this manner probably he prayed. ' And there 
 wrestled a man with him.' Wonderful occurrence. 
 What terror must it have inspired ! Jacob justly thought 
 himself quite alone. All at once he suddenly feels 
 himself laid hold of by some one. Who it is he knows 
 not ; he is only conscious that it is not a wild beast 
 s- eking to devour him, but a man. This man does not 
 appear to be his friend, but his foe perhaps one of 
 Esau's four hundred men. Wlioever it is, he struggles 
 with him. He lays hold of the terrified patriarch in 
 such a manner as if he would either push him away 
 from his place, or throw him upon the ground. Jacob 
 defends himself; he grasps his antagonist, whom he does 
 not yet know, and refuses either to move from the spot, 
 or to let himself be thrown down. He exerts all his 
 strength, and the conflict lasts l until the breaking of 
 the day.' 
 
 Who was this man ? Jacob did not know at first : 
 but by degrees it became apparent to him who he was. 
 If we form an opinion of him from the circumstance of 
 his seeing that * he prevailed not against Jacob,' we 
 shall think very differently of him on reading what im- 
 mediately follows : * he touched the hollow of his 
 thigh, and the hollow of Jacob's thigh was out of 
 joint,' for to this, a more than human power is requi- 
 site. When he says, ' Let me go,' he appears inferior 
 to Jacob, and dependent upon him. But when Jacob 
 
20 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 entreats his blessing he exalts him far above him, and 
 even above his father Isaac, who had already blessed 
 him in the name of God. When the man gives him 
 the name of Israel, and explains to him the meaning of 
 that appellation, by telling him with whom he had 
 been wrestling, and over whom he has prevailed 
 * with God and with men ' every veil falls away, and 
 the man presents himself to us in his true form. Al- 
 though he declines mentioning his name, in reply to 
 Jacob's simple question, yet he reveals it the more 
 clearly by the act of c his blessing him there.' But 
 when the sun arose in Jacob's comprehension, upon the 
 whole affair, he called the place Peniel ; f for,' said 
 he, ' I have seen God face to face, and my life is pre- 
 served.' 
 
 " Extraordinary occurrence ! Who can fathom it ?" 
 What ! does this appear so strange to you, although 
 you have seen the Son of man under such entirely dif- 
 ferent circumstances 1 Remember that it was predicted 
 of old, that His name should be called ' Wonderful.' 
 
 This man wrestled with him until the breaking of 
 the day. This man had for a time, assumed a human 
 body, in order to wrestle with Jacob bodily. He seized 
 him with his hands, and held him fast with his arms, in 
 order to expel him from the place, or else throw him 
 upon the ground. Can we suppose that complete 
 silence was observed during the conflict ; and that no- 
 thing more was spoken than what we find recorded ? 
 We can scarcely imagine it. But may we venture to 
 fill up the gap which Moses has left here, by our own 
 suppositions, if they are religious, founded on the word 
 
SERMON I. 21 
 
 of God, and conformable to faith and experience? 
 Why should we not ? It is at least certain, that if any 
 thing was spoken during the struggle, it was nothing 
 consolatory and encouraging on the part of the angel 
 of God ; but in character with the act of wrestling, 
 which was no token of friendship. But what is it that 
 the Spirit discovers to the individual, and with which he 
 upbraids him ? Is it not his sin ? And had Jacob no 
 sin ? Might it not have been said to him, ( Away with 
 thee from this holy place where angels linger !' Might 
 not the whole catalogue of his guilt have been unfolded 
 to him in all its particulars ; and might it not have been 
 most clearly proved to him, that in himself there did 
 not seem the slightest ground for that love which God 
 had toward him ; but that it must be sought and found 
 in quite a different place ? In this way, in a spiritual 
 manner also, his hip might have been disjointed, and 
 the last idea of his own worthiness, &c. destroyed. 
 If Satan upbraids a soul with sins ; if he appears at the 
 right hand of a Joshua in unclean garments, to accuse 
 him ; we are well aware what his intentions are to 
 distress, to plunge into immoderate grief, to cast into 
 despair, and entirely to destroy. But the Son of God 
 does not act thus. He does it only to humble us, and 
 to allure us to himself, in order afterwards to comfort 
 us the more. How did he act towards Saul ? Did he 
 not call out to him, ' Thou persecutest me ?' How 
 towards Peter ? Did he not thrice inquire if he loved 
 him ? How did he conduct himself towards the Syro- 
 phenician woman ? Did he not almost call her a dog ? 
 And did not the angels of the seven churches receive 
 3 
 
22 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 almost all of them a particular and emphatic reproof? 
 We know for what purpose. As soon as Paul perceiv- 
 ed that Satan had his hand in the matter, he advised the 
 Corinthians to comfort and forgive the sinners amongst 
 them so much the more, that they might not sink into 
 excessive sorrow, and be over-reached by Satan. 
 
 If the angel of God wrestled with Jacob, the latter 
 struggled also with all his might with God, or acted as 
 a prince towards him. He would by no means let him- 
 self be moved away from his place, but resisted with all 
 his strength, both bodily and spiritual. Tears and 
 prayers were the most powerful and victorious weapons 
 with which he wrestled and overcame the Son of 
 God. " Upbraid me," will have been his prayerful 
 language, amidst a flood of tears, " upbraid me with 
 all my sins ; unfold and develope them in all their 
 odiousness ; reveal to me each aggravating circum- 
 stance ; shew me my whole desert. I grant it all, I do 
 not excuse, cloke, or palliate any thing. But this I tell 
 thee also, I do not stand here on my own righteousness, 
 for I have none ; but rely upon thy mercy. Art thou, 
 yea, art thou not thyself, however hostile may be thy 
 position towards me art not thou thyself JEHOVAH ZIE- 
 KENU, the Lord my righteousness ? Is there the slightest 
 spot, wrinkle, or blemish in it ? Was my forefather 
 Abraham justified by his works was he not by thy 
 grace ? No ; thou wilt never reject the poor sinner 
 who takes refuge with thee. Hast thou not given thy 
 word upon it, that thou art not come to call the right- 
 eous but sinners to repentance ? Wilt thou begin with 
 met o invalidate thine own word ? Thy truth and faith- 
 
SERMON I. 23 
 
 fulness will not suffer this. Thy great mercy itself pre- 
 sents me with weapons against thy justice." 
 
 In this, or a similar manner, the fight of faith is 
 carried on. Secretly and imperceptibly all kinds of 
 suitable weapons are handed to the warrior, even as to 
 the Canaanitish woman the suitable reply, * Yea, Lord, 
 but the dogs eat of the crumbs that fall from their 
 masters' table,' by which she set Jesus fast so to 
 speak and obliged him to yield the victory to her. 
 
 The conflict was violent and lasted long, even { until 
 the breaking of the day.' The longer it lasted the 
 more profound were the views which the struggling 
 patriarch received of his corruption, and the grounds of 
 his faith. The longer it lasted, the humbler and 
 weaker he became, the more compelled to build every 
 thing on mere mercy, and entirely despair of himself : 
 to which a circumstance the dislocating of his hip, 
 which we shall afterwards consider greatly contribut- 
 ed. For the present, we will break off, with the inten- 
 tion of taking an early opportunity of considering the 
 result. 
 
 My hearers will doubtless have already been able to 
 make their observations and useful application of the 
 subject. The chiefest of these is, See to it, that you 
 build the house of your hope upon the rock, that it 
 may stand firm when assaulted. So much is certain, 
 that Jacob hazarded too much, when at his mother's 
 words, * the curse be upon me,' he exposed himself to 
 the danger. He ought to have had very different 
 reasons for so doing. Rebecca, indeed, was certain of 
 her cause ; but this was not sufficient for her son : Do 
 
24 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 not mimic others, nor rejoice in the light of another. 
 It is in ourselves that we must be regenerated, experi- 
 ence Divine influence, and be sealed with the Spirit of 
 promise, for godliness does not consist in words, but in 
 power. 
 
 May those that are inwardly assaulted, also learn from 
 Jacob's conflict, an appropriate demeanor in the attacks 
 upon their confidence and their hope. Expect them, 
 but do not flee from them ; at least no where but to 
 Jesus ! Ask boldly, even when it seems as if he would 
 drive you from the place. Lay hold of the promises ; 
 strive with them against the threatenings ; weep and 
 supplicate, even though he seem to be himself opposed 
 to you. May he strengthen us for this purpose ! Amen. 
 
SERMON II. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 25. 
 
 And when he saw that he prevailed not against him, he touched 
 the hollow of his thigh; and the hollow of Jacob's thigh 
 teas out of joint as he wrestled with him. 
 
 ( I KNOW, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and 
 that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.' This con- 
 fession is made by the writer of the cxixth Psalm, in the 
 seventy-fifth verse. In the sixty-seventh, he had said, 
 * Before I was afflicted I went astray ; but now have I 
 kept thy word.' The word afflicted implies being 
 distressed, agonized, rendered poor and wretched, in 
 consequence of which the individual is deprived of all 
 presumption and boldness, and feels humble and abased. 
 That which produced this effect upon the Psalmist, he 
 calls the judgments of the Lord that is, siftings and 
 trials, which, though painful to the feelings, are saluta- 
 ry in their results, and he ascribes these afflictive events 
 to the Lord ; since, without his will, not a hair can fall 
 from our heads. He calls them right or just, and is 
 therefore far from believing any wrong has been done 
 him ; on the contrary he thinks there is sufficient rea- 
 son existing for his being thus afflicted. He ackriow- 
 ledges, that it is in faithfulness that the Lord has 
 afflicted him, in order that he might fulfil his promises 
 3* 
 
26 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 in him not in wrath for the purpose of destroying 
 him, which he probably apprehended when under the 
 pressure ; in faithfulness, that thus he might bestow 
 upon him the most glorious blessings; although it 
 seemed to him at the time that he was being led to de- 
 struction 5 in faithfulness, in order to heal him of his 
 many infirmities; whilst his iniquities pressed hard 
 upon him, and unrighteousness seemed to have increas- 
 ingly the upper hand of him ; in faithfulness, since he 
 secretly held him fast and supported him ; for though 
 the Lord lays a burthen upon us, he also helps us to 
 bear it ; whilst he at one tune thought the Lord was 
 no longer his help ; but then again perceived the hand 
 of the Most High ; in faithfulness, as long as it was 
 needful to abase him, however much he might pray, 
 cry, sigh, and complain against it, and say, ' Is thy 
 mercy clean gone for ever but not a moment longer 
 d,id the time of suffering last, and then appeared his 
 powerful aid. The Lord afflicted him in faithfulness 
 to the degree which was requisite, so that he . went 
 bowed down, and bent beneath it, and the burden con- 
 tinued to increase until it became too heavy to be 
 borne ; but that very moment it was changed in such a 
 wonderful manner, that it might be said, f Who re- 
 deemeth thy life from destruction, who crowneth thee 
 with loving-kindness and tender mercy ;' whilst even 
 under his burden he also thought he should yet praise 
 him ; faithful in attacking him just on that side where 
 it certainly pained him the most, but where it was also 
 the most necessary ; although he might probably think, 
 Ah, if it were only any thing else but that ; and yet 
 
SERMON II. 27 
 
 just that was requisite for him, whilst something differ- 
 ent was required for other patients. In short, it is in 
 faithfulness that God afflicts and humbles his children. 
 Formerly they went astray, and with the best will and 
 intention, began the work improperly ; but their con- 
 duct is now conformable to the rule of the word. Cer- 
 tainly, he that has already passed through the furnace, 
 may boast and declare the judgments of the Lord to be 
 right. Let us be satisfied that we have an unspeakably 
 faithful Lord and Master ; and may this also become 
 more apparent to us from the meditation we are at 
 present about to resume on the subject. 
 
 We proceed with the consideration of Jacob's con- 
 flict, and its results ; after having, on a former occasion, 
 made ourselves somewhat more acquainted with the 
 two combatants. 
 
 ' When the Son of God saw that he could not pre- 
 vail over him' such is the continuation of the won- 
 derful narrative victory declared itself for Jacob, and 
 the Son of God is obliged to yield ! Nor is this any 
 wonder, since he had bound his own hands by the pro- 
 mise, * I will do thee good ;' and thereby pointed out 
 to his Omnipotence the direction it ought to take. It 
 was able to clear away those things which were a hin- 
 drance to Jacob, but not to accelerate his destruction ; 
 it was able to pour out benefits upon him, but not to 
 divest him of them. Omnipotence is the minister of 
 Divine truth, and could do nothing against, but every 
 thing for the truth. It could have rent heaven and 
 earth asunder ; but it was under the necessity of pre- 
 serving Jacob unconsumed. Omnipotence is a Divine 
 
28 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 attribute, the exercise of which depends upon the will 
 of God, who can therefore exert or restrain it at his 
 pleasure. But with his truth the case is different ; for 
 it is a constituent part of his being, and it is impossible 
 for him to act contrary to it, or he would cease to be 
 Jehovah that is, to be what he is. He has often en- 
 tirely renounced his Omnipotence ; so that nothing but 
 weakness was visible in him. Where was his Omnipo- 
 tence, when he fled into Egypt before the face of 
 Herod ? What is this the man who intends to save 
 his people 1 Is this he who is to overcome the strong 
 man armed, and bind him 1 Is this the child who is 
 the mighty God ? Where was his Omnipotence, when 
 he was bound, and nailed hand and foot to the cross, 
 and when he was laid in the sepulchre ? He still in- 
 deed possessed it ; but he restrained it for the truth's 
 sake, as he himself says, that the Scriptures might be 
 fulfilled. There was a necessity for it ; for Omnipo- 
 tence cannot be exercised against the truth, since God 
 is willing to employ it only in favor of the truth. He 
 had said of his sheep, ' No man shall pluck them out 
 of my hands ;' the power of God was therefore obliged 
 to be immediately exerted, when it seemed as if Jesus's 
 assertion was about to be put to shame in the case of 
 Peter, who denied his Master even with oaths and 
 curses ; the Lord then turned and looked at Peter, and 
 regarded Satan, who was sifting him,Vith an omnipo- 
 tent look : Omnipotence then became the servant of 
 truth. 
 
 No one comprehended better than Abraham, Jacob's 
 grandfather, what he possessed in Divine truth, and 
 
SERMON n. 29 
 
 what he might risk and expect, when he had the word 
 of God on his side. A posterity had been promised to 
 him in Isaac, which should be blessed and made a bless- 
 ing. Yet him he was commanded to sacrifice. He 
 boldly seized the knife, most firmly convinced, that 
 God must keep his word, because he was able to do so; 
 and thus he expected that his Omnipotence would min- 
 ister to his truth, and that Isaac, though slain and burnt 
 to ashes, would be raised from the dead, sooner than 
 that God would suffer himself to be made a liar, for that 
 was impossible ; but otherwise every thing was possi- 
 ble with God, and through him, to him that believeth. 
 
 Jacob understood this also. The Lord had promised 
 him, saying, ' I will do thee good.' Hence his Omni- 
 potence could only be exercised towards him in so far 
 as it was in accordance with this promise ; and because 
 ne adnered iu it, the Almighty was unable tu expel 
 him from the place, but succumbed in the conflict. 
 
 Where is there a God like unto him, and how does 
 Eternal Wisdom sport with his children ! We may 
 well pray with David (Psalm cxix. 38), ' Stablish thy 
 word unto thy servant.' We should then see the glory 
 of God, and find in it a consolation which does not suf- 
 fer us to perish in our misery. Has he not promised 
 us every thing requisite for our salvation, joy, and pros- 
 perity 1 And is it not made doubly sure to us by letter 
 and seal, by Baptism and the Lord's Supper ? What 
 more can we desire ? Will he not forgive transgression 
 and sin ? Why do we therefore suffer anxious fears to 
 perplex us ? The devil, and our own deceitful hearts, 
 may murmur against it as much as they please. Will 
 
30 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 he not give us a new heart, and make such people of 
 us, as shall walk in his commandments, keep his sta- 
 tutes, and do according to them ? And yet we are 
 foolish enough to fear that we shall be obliged to re- 
 tain our depraved hearts, because we cannot change 
 them ourselves. Christ himself has engaged to be 
 made unto us wisdom ; can it be possible, therefore, 
 that we should always continue foolish? He has un- 
 dertaken our sanctification, and can we continue im- 
 pure 1 In reality, we ought justly to feel much asto- 
 nished at not being perfect saints : for what is the rea- 
 son that we are not so ? I think the chief cause of it 
 lies in this, that we are too proud and self-righteous to 
 expect every thing from pure grace, and for the sake of 
 the word and promise of God ; and are still desirous of 
 accomplishing too much of ourselves, and of becoming 
 too much in ourselves. Does not the iru a-iid laitniul 
 Word tell us that the Lord careth for us, and enjoin us 
 to cast all our care upon him 1 But who believes this 
 cheering truth 1 He that does so, finds rest and peace 
 and refreshment when he is weary. But almost all re- 
 fuse to listen to it, and care for themselves instead of 
 believing. Hence they experience so little of the glory 
 of God, and torment themselves in vain with a burden 
 which they have not strength to bear. We think it 
 rational to trust to the creature, but absurd to hope in 
 the living Creator. O what fools we are to act thus, 
 seeing that we cannot change a single hair white or 
 black ! How happy we might be did we believe the 
 words, < He careth for you ;' therefore cast all your 
 care upon him, both externally and internally. Were 
 
SERMON II. 31 
 
 we at the same time humble, docile, and sufficiently re- 
 signed to his will, Jesus would not then put us to the 
 blush by the example of the birds ; but, like the lark in 
 the storm, we should sing hymns of praise in the midst 
 of difficulties ; in short, in quietness and confidence 
 would be our strength, and by returning and rest we 
 should be saved. And is not his written word, whose 
 minister and performer is Omnipotence, entirely of such 
 a nature as to render us perfectly tranquil and easy ? 
 ( For though the mountains may depart, and the hills 
 be removed : yet my kindness shall not depart from 
 thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be remov- 
 ed, saith the Lord, that hath mercy on thee.' 
 
 But are not the justice and holiness of God, such at- 
 tributes as ought reasonably to render us timid in ap- 
 plying his promises to us ; and will not the considera- 
 tion that we are sinners, make a great alteration in the 
 matter ? If Jacob had thought thus, and acted accord- 
 ingly, he would soon have fled from the scene of con- 
 flict ; for what else was he but a sinner ; and if he were 
 otherwise, how did he become so of himself or by the 
 favor of him that called him? 'Even before the 
 twins were born,' says Paul, ' or had done either good 
 or evil,' in order that the purpose of God according to 
 election might stand, not of works, but of him that 
 calleth, it was said to Rebecca ' The elder shall serve 
 the younger.' It is true we are sinners, but Jesus is 
 come to save sinners ; hence our right to the Savior 
 increases if I may so speak in the degree in which 
 we become conscious of our sinfulness. We ought also 
 to know, that God did not give Canaan to the people 
 
32 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 of Israel for the sake of their righteousness for I know, 
 says he, that thou art a stiff-necked and rebellious peo- 
 ple and likewise that his promises are founded on free 
 grace, and on the blood of Jesus Christ. If any one 
 were to imagine that he had claims upon the Divine 
 promises because of his good qualities and his good con- 
 duct, he would greatly deceive himself, and obtain little 
 or nothing, because he did not understand how to buy 
 without money. God knows what miserable sinners 
 we are, much better than we do ; and has so marked 
 and designated us in his book, that it is difficult to think 
 more highly of ourselves than we ought, according to 
 the description there given. But notwithstanding this, 
 he has, to the praise of the glory of his grace, vouch- 
 safed the greatest and most precious promises to these 
 very characters^ and Christ, by his obedience, suffer- 
 ings, and death, has sufficiently provided for the mani- 
 festation of Divine grace towards us, without any oppo- 
 sition from Divine justice and holiness. Grace, so to 
 speak, is older than justice. The tree of life also is 
 mentioned before the tree of the knowledge of good and 
 evil, with the threatening attached to it. The promise, 
 according to the doctrine of Paul (Gal. iii. 17), is at 
 least four hundred and thirty years older than the law, 
 which revealed the righteousness and holiness of God, 
 but which detracts as little from his promised grace, as 
 a legal testament among men, which is in force on the 
 death of the testator, can afterwards be set aside : and 
 ' this testament,' says the Apostle, ' that was confirm- 
 ed before of God in Christ, cannot disannul, that it 
 should make the promise of none effect.' We have 
 
SERMON II. 33 
 
 therefore not to do with the law, which says, f Do this !' 
 but with the Gospel, which says, < Ask of me ; I will 
 give thee.' If the Ethiopian nobleman could say, 
 ' What doth hinder me to be baptized ?' we ought 
 reasonably to say, " What hinders my mind from the 
 free exercise of faith and confidence, and from regard- 
 ing itself in no other light, than as if every thing were 
 already overcome, as if we were already in heaven, see- 
 ing that when we have once entered into the conflict 
 of faith, and persevere in it, there is nothing to hinder 
 us from obtaining the crown of life. For believers are 
 kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation. 
 Oh, if we only understood aright what belonged to our 
 peace, we would rejoice from gladness of heart, and the 
 wicked one be unable to touch us !" Jacob understood 
 it excellently so excellently that he prevailed, even 
 when the Almighty himself entered into conflict with 
 him, but not before he had bound his own hands with 
 the strong cords of love, and the firm bands of his faith- 
 ful promises ; for his omnipotence took the part of his 
 antagonist, in order to bring him successfully through 
 every trial. O certainly, all things are possible to him 
 that believeth ! and assuredly if thou believest, thou 
 shalt see the glory of God. If thou hast but one pro- 
 mise on thy side, thy glorious victory is rendered quite 
 certain ; even if it should seem as impossible as the re- 
 storing of Lazarus to his sisters, after being dead four 
 days, and having become a prey to corruption. 
 
 Thus did Jacob act like a prince, even as God boasts 
 of him by the prophet Hosea : just as it becomes a 
 spiritual king, who does not cease to fight till the 
 4 
 
34 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 victory is decided. But what occurs ? * When he 
 saw that he prevailed not against him/ it is said, c he 
 touched the hollow of his thigh, and the hollow of 
 Jacob's thigh was out of joint as he wrestled with him.' 
 This was a new wonder ; and was a remarkable one, 
 for it is mentioned twice. The cause of the dislocation 
 is stated in the words, i He touched the hollow of his 
 thigh,' and whilst depriving Jacob of all power to 
 continue the combat, he proved his entire superiority, 
 but at the same time added that which was incompre- 
 hensible, to that which was wonderful, by declaring 
 himself, notwithstanding, to be vanquished, when he 
 said to the Patriarch, ( Let me go.' 
 
 The hip, is, so to speak, the foundation of the edifice 
 of our body. If dislocated, the body falls down. A 
 dislocation of the hip is an extremely rare case, only 
 practicable to astonishing strength ; and almost incon- 
 ceivable in the position which a person must assume 
 in wrestling with another, who is seeking to drive him 
 from his place, as was the case with Jacob. But if it 
 occurs, and takes place by means of a mere touch, as 
 in the present instance, it is a singular wonder. Such 
 a dislocation is naturally attended with very violent 
 pain. Whether the Son of God caused Jacob to expe- 
 rience the latter also, we know not ; it depended upon 
 his will, and the effect was in every case the same. 
 The good man could wrestle no longer; nothing 
 therefore was left him but to hold fast to his opponent 
 by his arms, to cleave to him with all his might ; and 
 this he did likewise in such a manner, that his opponent 
 could not remove from the place without dragging him 
 
SERMON II. 35 
 
 along with him ; hence it was that he said, * Let me 
 go.' But Jacob could no longer either stand or go ; 
 much less continue to wrestle ; he was compelled to let 
 himself be carried ; and to this he was forced by the 
 Son of God himself, who deprived him of all his 
 strength, and left him no alternative but to hang upon 
 his neck if he wished to be preserved from falling. 
 But what is the meaning of this ? Why did the Son 
 of God put his hip out "of joint, and perhaps cause him 
 violent pain by so doing ? What was the object, the 
 intention, the reason ? 
 
 First of all, we must know that God, by the prophet 
 Isaiah, has replied to Jacob's inquiry of his antagonist, 
 ' What is thy name ?' when he says, ' His name shall 
 be called Wonderful.' There is doubtless 'as much 
 humility as wisdom, whilst inquiring why God acts in 
 this or that particular manner, if we can perfectly satisfy 
 ourselves with the reply, Because it pleases him to act 
 thus; for in the sequel, we shall probably receive 
 satisfactory light upon the subject. In his method of 
 government, much that is incomprehensible occurs, and 
 we must learn to humble ourselves under his mighty 
 hand ; he will then exalt us in due time. So long as 
 Job continued to say, ' The Lord gave, and the Lord 
 hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord !' 
 it is said, * In all this Job sinned not.' But when he 
 afterwards disputed with his friends upon the cause and 
 intent of what had befallen him, they fell into a degree 
 of confusion, from which they were unable to extricate 
 themselves. Job wished to accuse God of injustice ; 
 his friends, to charge him with ungodliness ; and both 
 
36 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 were in the wrong. At length God himself interfered, 
 and said, < If thou art so wise as to be able to fathom 
 everything, gird up now thy loins like a man, for I will 
 demand of thee, and answer thou me.' On which Job 
 however reversed the matter, and said, ' I have uttered 
 that I understood not ; things too wonderful for me, 
 which I knew not. Hear, I beseech thee, and I will 
 speak ; I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto 
 me.' It was then said, 6 My servant Job hath spoken 
 right concerning me.' 
 
 If Abraham had been desirous of ascertaining first of 
 all the object and intention of offering up his son Isaac, 
 he would have frustrated them ; but he believed that 
 God could do nothing but what was in accordance with 
 his word, and thus he ascended Mount Moriah, and 
 obtained the high commendation expressed in the 
 words, c Now I know that thou fearest God.' 
 
 When Christ began to wash the feet of his disciples, 
 Peter wished first of all to know the intention of this 
 act, before he would consent to give up his feet for that 
 purpose ; but he was told, ' What I do thou knowest 
 not now, but thou shalt know hereafter ;' and when 
 this proved unavailing, the Lord said, ( If I wash thee 
 not, thou hast no part in me.' 
 
 e My sheep follow me,' says Christ ; but he not 
 unfrequently leads them in such a manner, as if he 
 were not a shepherd,, but was only conducting them to 
 the butchery. Are these the people of God, it might 
 be asked, who appear only to exist in order to be per- 
 secuted, slain, torn by dogs and wild beasts, and cover- 
 ed with pitch to illuminate the streets of Rome with the 
 
SERMON n. 37 
 
 slow flame ? But they counted not their li ves too dear 
 to them, and are destined to shine in heaven as the stars 
 for ever and ever. The Lord of his people wears, in- 
 stead of a golden coronet, a crown of thorns ; instead 
 of a sceptre, a weak reed ; and hangs on a cross, in- 
 stead of sitting upon a throne. What a Lord ! what a 
 people ! 
 
 True it is, that the preaching of such things seems 
 foolishness, and that the natural man becomes quite 
 foolish in consequence of it. But do thou only believe ; 
 wait for the Lord in the way of his judgments ; the 
 end of it all will be glorious a glory which no eye 
 hath seen, no ear heard, and which has never entered 
 into the heart of man. His name is ' Wonderful ;' 
 and he is so in his works and guidance. Even if we 
 were unable to discover any wisdom in his conduct to- 
 wards Jacob, yet we ought still to believe, that he acted 
 thus towards him for very wise and salutary reasons, 
 although it may not have pleased him to reveal any 
 thing to us respecting them. 
 
 It is, however, not difficult to discover some of the 
 salutary intentions of such a procedure. The chief of 
 them is this : that when God suffers us to become con- 
 scious, by inward experience, that we have no right- 
 eousness of our own, and that we are unable to acquire 
 any : that by our own wisdom we cannot accomplish 
 any thing : and that when he thus humbles us, it is a 
 a path by which he conducts all his children, although 
 the means are various by which he attains this end. 
 These paths are painful to the old man, even as the 
 4* 
 
38 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 dislocation of his hip was to Jacob ; but the pain is 
 richly compensated by the fruits which follow. 
 
 At first we form to ourselves strange and unfounded 
 ideas of religion. We imagine such a growth in it as 
 we perceive in children, who have gradually less need 
 of their mother's care and attention, until they can at 
 length entirely do without it. But Christ prefers com- 
 paring his people to the branches of the vine, which 
 never bring forth fruit of themselves, but solely by their 
 abiding in the vine. In like manner, says he, ' Ye 
 cannot bring forth fruit of yourselves, except ye abide 
 in me ; for without me ye can do nothing.' The ideas 
 we form of religion at the commencement, correspond 
 little with this figure. We think of aged Christians, 
 that they are far advanced ; and they may have really 
 advanced as far as Jacob, who could no longer stand 
 nor go of himself, much less wrestle, and who had no 
 alternative but to cling to the Son of God, that he 
 might be sustained by him, or according to the expres- 
 sion of the Apostle, To live in the faith of the Son of 
 God, who loved us, and gave himself for us. When 
 they are weak he is their strength : they have nothing, 
 and yet possess all things ; are unable of themselves, even 
 to think anything good, and yet are able to do all things ; 
 and many more such singular descriptions of the in- 
 ward life, which may justly be called a continual riddle, 
 which cannot be solved without personal experience. 
 
 Real growth, which must certainly take place in 
 every real Christian, does not consist in an increasing 
 facility in the performance of religious duties in and by 
 ourselves ; but it is rather an increase in grace and in 
 
SERMON II. 39 
 
 the knowledge of Jesus Christ ; an increasing facility in 
 making use of Christ in the manner in which he is 
 made and given unto us of God, and this can naturally 
 be learnt in no other manner than by the destruction of 
 our own wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and re- 
 demption, by which we decrease, but Christ increases. 
 
 The hip, if I may so speak, on which the whole body 
 of a natural godliness rests, the foundation that supports 
 it, is nothing else than confidence in ourselves. Hence 
 the upright are proud of their uprightness, and have 
 reason to be so, because it is a consequence of their dili- 
 gence ; they are indebted for it to their discernment, 
 their own reflection, or to the understanding which 
 they possess, and their commendable conduct is the re- 
 sult of the good resolutions they formed, and which 
 they were strong enough to carry into effect. The 
 noise which is made about human inability, they re- 
 gard as idle talk, by which nothing else is demonstrated 
 than the individual's own slothfulness ; or else they look 
 upon it as an artifice, designed to cover his worthless- 
 ness, and to enable him to reject, in a hypocritical man- 
 ner, a strictly moral deportment ; and the appealing to 
 grace is, in their eyes, little more than blaming God 
 because we are not better than we are. Both, in their 
 opinion, are equally abominable ; and they thank God 
 that they are not enthusiasts and nominal Christians, 
 like these people. These are the strong who need not 
 a Physician. 
 
 Natural men, who lead an ungodly life, and there- 
 fore cannot appeal to their virtues, always excuse them- 
 selves, because they have not committed this or that 
 
40 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 particular sin, or else deceive themselves with the idea 
 that when once they find it necessary to amend, they 
 shall soon be able to accomplish it ; but that there is 
 still time enough for such a purpose. With that real 
 religion, to which they will not concede the appellation, 
 both of these classes refuse to have any thing to do, 
 but are opposed to it, since the greatest part of it ap- 
 pears to them extremely irrational and absurd, so that 
 a sensible man has reason to be ashamed of it. They 
 rely upon their own understanding and their own 
 strength, and do not comprehend upon what a person can 
 otherwise depend. But let them go ; for they are blind ! 
 When the Lord, however, begins to wrestle with a 
 soul by which we mean, when he begins his work of 
 grace in a man he struggles with him in such a man- 
 ner, that to a certainty, either earlier or later, the hip 
 will be dislocated, and so put out of joint, that no other 
 choice will be left him than that which was left Jacob 
 that of embracing with the arms of faith the Son of 
 God ; there will be no alternative but to let himself be 
 borne and carried by him. By degrees he is entirely 
 brought off from from his previous method of existing 
 and acting, and conducted into a path, of which he 
 must himself confess that flesh and blood have not re- 
 vealed it to him ; that he has not learned it from books, 
 from sermons, from other men, or from his own wis- 
 dom ; but that wondrous grace first reduced him to the 
 state of a little 'child, and then began to reveal to him 
 the mystery of the kingdom of God. He now learns to 
 believe from the heart those passages of Scripture, 
 where it is said, ' Not of him that willeth, nor of him 
 
SERMON II. 41 
 
 that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy ;' and 
 others of a similar nature, which had secretly given 
 him offence before, but which now become wisdom it- 
 self to him. He now experiences how much reason 
 Peter had to call the light, to which the chosen genera- 
 tion is called out of darkness, ' a marvellous light.' 
 
 We could still say much in pointing out how the 
 Lord, in repentance, commences the destruction of the 
 false ground of self-confidence, and then carries it on 
 and completes it by a variety of trials, and in a very 
 strange manner, until the sinner, stripped of every- 
 thing, casts himself into the arms of his blessed Lord and 
 Savior. But we break off, and leave the subject to a 
 future opportunity. 
 
 We only ask, in conclusion, What becomes of our 
 wisdom according to the wisdom of the Christian reli- 
 gion, w T hich, as the way to wisdom, directs that we 
 should become fools according to the maxims of the 
 world, and affirms, that he who thinks he knows any 
 thing, knows yet nothing as he ought ? What be- 
 comes of our strength, when Christ is only mighty in the 
 weak, and we without him can do nothing ? What be- 
 comes of our righteousness, since we are all declared 
 to be unrighteous, and that there is no difference 
 amongst us, except what is made by -the grace of God,? 
 What becomes of our labor and efforts, since we are 
 saved by grace ? Lord, open our eyes, that we may 
 behold wondrous things out of thy law ! 
 
SERMON III. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IT is evident, especially from Matt. xiv. 36, what a 
 salutary and healing power Jesus must have possessed. 
 He came into the land of Gennesaret. Scarcely had 
 he left the vessel and stepped on shore, than he was 
 immediately recognized. The people of that place sent 
 out into all the country round about, in order to make 
 it every where known. A number of sick persons from 
 far and near, who labored under a variety of diseases, 
 were brought to him, and they besought him that they 
 might only touch the hem of his garment : and as many 
 as touched it were made whole, whatever might have 
 been their complaint. 
 
 " How much it is to be regretted," might some one 
 think, " that Jesus is no longer upon earth !" But 
 wherefore ? If he could heal the sick, even at a dis- 
 tance from them, he must still be able to do so now 
 that he is ascended up on high. And it would be high- 
 ly derogatory to him to pretend, that Jesus is now so 
 shut up in heaven, that it is impossible for us to expe- 
 rience, or become conscious of anything more of him > 
 since he has said, Lo, I am with you always, even to 
 the end of the world !' But it would also be a matter 
 of regret, if we had such an abundance of temporal 
 things as to render Jesus indifferent to us, because he 
 
SERMON HI. 43 
 
 no longer heals our bodily diseases, except through a 
 medium. We all require his medical aid, his healing 
 power, in a more important sense than the people of 
 Gennesaret experienced it I mean with respect to our 
 souls, whose disease is called sin ; the natural conse- 
 quence of which, is death, eternal death. Of this we 
 must necessarily be healed ; and may be so, although 
 we cannot, and ought not, to accomplish it as of our- 
 selves. Jesus is also our physician, and so full of heal- 
 ing power, that he is at the same time the medicine. 
 If we wish to be healed, we must at least touch the 
 hem of his garment. * Thou art clothed with light,' 
 says David, 'and art very glorious.' The glory of 
 Jesus Christ is a perfect glory. The skirt of his gar- 
 ment is his meekness and humility, which fit him to be 
 the physician of such diseased creatures as we. His 
 invitations and promises are the hem which we ought 
 to touch. It is not permitted to eveiy one to approach 
 the great and the mighty upon earth ; but the contrary 
 is the case with the monarch of the skies. We may 
 touch him, if we entreat him to let us do so. And we 
 really touch him by the feeling of our wretchedness, 
 and by our sincere longing and desire for the sanctifi- 
 cation of our souls, by prayer, and particularly by be- 
 lieving confidence. But what benefit was derived from 
 thus touching Jesus? All who did so were made 
 whole. And such is still the case. Jesus retains the 
 reputation of being a perfect, and at the same time the 
 only, physician of souls. Deeply feel thy need of him, 
 and then thou wilt also say with Jacob, * I will not let 
 thee go, except thou bless me.' 
 
44 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 26. 
 
 And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, 
 I will not lei thee go, except thou Hess me. 
 
 IN the remarkable event recorded in this and the two 
 preceding verses, one wonder succeeds another. The 
 Son of God puts Jacob's thigh out of joint ; but Jacob, 
 so far from losing courage, throws himself upon the 
 neck of him who had deprived him of all his strength, 
 that he may be borne by him, since he is no longer 
 able to stand of himself. A new wonder now occurs ; 
 the Son of God entreats Jacob the victor the van- 
 quishedthe strong the weak to let him go. But 
 Jacob wisely takes advantage of the opportunity, and 
 replies, c I will not let thee go except thou bless me.' 
 
 ' Let me go,' says the 'Son of God to Jacob ; and 
 these words belong to those wondrous expressions, of 
 which there are many in the Scriptures to those ex- 
 pressions which, at first sight, seem to intimate some- 
 thing absurd, and yet bear upon them the impress of 
 Divine wisdom. If we were desirous of producing a 
 whole series of such paradoxes, of such seeming con- 
 tradictions, they would be such as the following : 
 c When I am weak,' as Paul says, 'then am I strong.' 
 ' As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing ; as poor, yet mak- 
 ing many rich ; as having nothing, yet possessing all 
 things.' 
 
 ( Let me go.' Was he in earnest, or did he merely 
 dissemble ? Dissemble ? Who can think that of him 
 
SERMON III. 45 
 
 who is faithful and true. If he had been in earnest, it 
 would have been an easy thing to extricate himself 
 from the arms of Jacob, It was therefore a new temp- 
 tation, into which he led the patriarch. It would have 
 been ill for the latter, if he had let him go ; he would 
 have miserably sunk upon the ground, the Son of God 
 would have vanished, and with him the blessing which 
 he obtained by holding him fast. 
 
 * Let me go.' Could he not have dislocated his 
 arms ; which is an easier matter than putting a hip out 
 of joint ? No, his pow r er did not extend so far, because 
 it necessarily remained within the limits assigned to it 
 by the Divine promise, * I will do thee good.' But 
 the dislocation of Jacob's arms, the extricating himself 
 from them ; the hasting away without conferring a 
 blessing, would not have been a benefit, but an injury ; 
 and this he certainly could not inflict for his word's 
 sake. 
 
 * Let me go.' Did he need for this purpose the 
 consent of his friend 1 Assuredly he did. He had es- 
 tablished the covenant of grace with him, and with all 
 the spiritual descendants of Abraham, according to 
 which he engaged to be their shield and their defence. 
 He has bound himself to bless them and to do them 
 good, and cannot free himself from this obligation, 
 which he has confirmed with an oath, without the con- 
 sent of those in alliance with him ; and he himself has, 
 in their regeneration, imparted such a feeling to them, 
 that they never can nor will consent to it. f When 
 thou saidst, Seek ye my face ; my heart said unto thee, 
 Thy face, Lord, will I seek.' ' If we deny him, he will 
 
 5 
 
46 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 also deny us ; if we believe not, yet he remaineth faith- 
 ful, he cannot deny himself. (2 Tim. ii. 12, 13) Our 
 unbelief cannot, render the faith of God without effect.' 
 (Rom. iii. 3) But did he really desire that Jacob 
 should exonerate him from the obligation to do him 
 good? Certainly not: but he wished to have the 
 pleasure of seeing how firm, by his grace, are the 
 hearts of his allies, even when many waters of affliction 
 go over them ; and how the seed of God remains in his 
 children. It was therefore uncommonly pleasing to 
 him, when Job exclaimed, ' Though he slay me, yet 
 will I trust in him ;' and equally so when his disciples 
 said, * Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the 
 words of eternal life ;' and in the same manner when 
 his church continues to cleave firmly to him in the ex- 
 tremity of tribulation and temptation. He himself is 
 the author of this constancy ; and hence it is, that it is 
 so pleasing in his sight ; for he takes pleasure in all his 
 works. What joy it will have caused him at being 
 unable to shake off Jacob ; when the latter held firmly 
 by his word, and did not suffer himself to be moved 
 away from the spot, whatever the Lord might say or 
 do to him, after he had once engaged to do him good ; 
 that he even threw himself upon his neck, after he had 
 deprived him of the ability to stand alone, and con- 
 tinued immutably firm, when it was said to him. ' Let 
 me go !' And what pleasure it still causes him, when 
 the Christian does not suffer himself to be dismayed by 
 afflictions and temptations, but even then cleaves to his 
 word and his grace, when every thing seems against 
 him ; when he continues faithful unto death ! 
 
SERMON III. 47 
 
 1 Let me go.' The Lord said this to the Patriarch, 
 to try him whether he really loved him who attacked 
 him so severely, and caused him such sensible pain. 
 That which the Lord here says to Jacob, was said to 
 Job by his wife, < Dost thou still retain thine integrity, 
 although God visits thee with such unheard of afflic- 
 tions ?' Take leave of him and let him go. It is in 
 reality no small attainment, not only to act patiently in 
 tribulation, but even to glory in it, and not to doubt for 
 a moment of the goodness, compassion, and merciful 
 kindness of the Lord. And when induced to complain 
 with the church, in Isaiah Ixiii. 15, ( Where is the 
 sounding of thy bowels and thy mercies towards me ? 
 are they restrained V still to say, 'Doubtless thou art 
 our Father ;' to confess with David, ' Thy way is in the 
 sanctuary;' and with Jeremiah, in his Lamentations, 
 1 Thy goodness is every morning new !' This is no easy 
 matter. 
 
 In the present season of distress, God has certainly 
 given many of his children an opportunity of refusing 
 to learn this lesson ; and the Tempter may have said to 
 many, what the enemies of Jesus called out to him, 
 when he hung upon the cross : ' He trusted in God, let 
 him deliver him now.' 
 
 * Let me go.' The Lord spoke thus to the Patriarch 
 to put his faith, to the test, and ascertain whether he 
 would still cleave to the promise,-' I will do thee good,' 
 although the hostile conduct of the Son of God seemed 
 to prove just the contrary. 
 
 Faith has various gradations : at one time, it is a 
 faith which arises from seeing, feeling, tasting, and 
 
 
48 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 from the Lord's drawing near in loving kindness and 
 tender mercy to the pardoned soul, in such a manner 
 that the individual is able to say, " I believe, not mere- 
 ly because of thy word, but because I experience in 
 myself that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the soul." This 
 is valuable experience, sweet in the sensation, and pre- 
 cious in the fruit. But faith, which seems in these cir- 
 cumstances to be uncommonly strong, is in reality very 
 weak. It supports its steps with the staff of -sensation. 
 Sensible joy in the Lord is its strength. It has its foun- 
 dation more in itself than in the Lord ; and often sinks 
 down to the extreme of despondency, when the trans- 
 ports it previously felf*diminish. A higher degree is, 
 not to see, and yet believe ; pray according to the word, 
 and believe that the prayer will be answered, although 
 there is no tangible proof of it ; believe that the Lord's 
 ways are goodness and truth, although reason does not 
 see them to be so. 
 
 But it is a step further still, wheif we believe in hope, 
 where nothing is to be hoped for nay, even against 
 hope, and against feeling. Thus the Captain of our 
 salvation believed, in defiance of every thing to the con- 
 trary, when, forsaken of God, assaulted by the visible 
 and invisible world, he hung upon the cross for three 
 hours together, full of pain in body and soul. God laid 
 him in the dust of death, and yet he called him, in faith, 
 his God. 
 
 This is the highest degree of faith. He who is de- 
 sirous of exercising it, must be established in the know- 
 ledge of the mystery of God, and far advanced in the 
 denial of himself; the joint of confidence in his own 
 
SERMON III. 49 
 
 strength and wisdom, must be considerably dislocated ; 
 he must be able to look pretty deep into the heart of 
 Jesus, and yet say with Paul, 4 We are perplexed, but 
 not in despair.' (2 Cor. iv. 8) ' I believed, therefore 
 have I spoken.' (Psalm cxvi. 10.) 
 
 ' Let me go.' Jacob's courage was also put to the 
 test. " Let him go," he might have thought. " Thy 
 tears, thy prayers, have been altogether fruitless. He 
 has put thy thigli out of joint, and what else does the 
 pain of it tell thee, than 'that he cherishes no favorable 
 sentiments towards thee. Who knows what injury he 
 may still occasion thee 1 Although he sees that thou 
 must miserably sink to the ground, and thus, without 
 even. being able to escape from Esau, must fall into his 
 cruel hands, yet he desires thee to let him go." But 
 Jesus had already taken care that he should not be able 
 to let him go, by leaving him no choice, but placing 
 him under the necessity of cleaving to him. No, Jesus 
 must himself repulse him, and let go. his hold of him ; 
 but this he did not do, and rejecting is what Jesus can- 
 not do ; for he has said, ' Him that cometh to me I 
 will in no wise cast out.' Hence we must exercise 
 courage, or else give up all for lost. Jacob was con- 
 strained to act thus. * 
 
 O happy souls, whom Jesus has 'wounded in such a 
 manner that he alone can heal them, and whom he 
 binds to himself by the feeling of their misery ; to 
 whom he leaves only the choice between life and 
 death; and who are compelled to say with Hosea, 
 * Come and let us return unto the Lord ; for he hath 
 torn, and he will heal us ; he hath smitten, and he v\ ill 
 5* 
 
50 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 bind us up. He will raise us up, and we shall live in 
 his sight.' (ch. vi. 1, 2) Happy is he who feels com^ 
 pelled to continue cleaving, though he may be under the 
 necessity of persevering in doing so, even to the end of 
 his life, without receiving consolation ; because, unless 
 he does so, he sees nothing but death and destruction 
 before him ! O wait on the Lord ; though he tarry, be 
 of good courage and undismayed, and wait, I say, on 
 the Lord ! 
 
 6 Let me go.' What courage must this have im- 
 parted to Jacob ! For what did the words imply ? 
 That the Son of God was in his power, aijd that he 
 would not depart, unless Jacob gave his consent to it ; 
 and this he had himself rendered impossible. What a 
 futile reason was that which he adduced, ( For the day 
 breaketh.' " Let it break," might Jacob have replied, 
 " what is that to me 1 I have a thousand reasons why 
 I will not let thee go, and even the breaking of the 
 day is one of them. A painful day is approaching. I 
 am afraid of my brother Esau. I stand in especial 
 need of thy blessing. Thou dost well to remind me of 
 it, that I may cleave to thee still more closely." 
 
 O how pleasing must it have been to Jesus, that his 
 pupil stood the test so well, and "that his good work 
 shone forth in such' a lovely manner in him ! In con- 
 sequence of the promises which are given us, Jesus is 
 also in our power in like manner ; and however won- 
 derfully he may deal with us, as his name imports, yet 
 he can deny neither himself nor his word. If he re- 
 proaches thee with being a sinner, justify him in doing 
 so ; but plead with him, in return, that he is the Savior 
 
SERMON HI. 51 
 
 of sinners. Confess that he is in the right, when he 
 sets before thee thy unbelief, thy wretchedness, and 
 and thy ilnworthiness ; arid set his word before him, 
 ' Seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened 
 unto you.' When he was an infant, he was wrapped 
 in swaddling clothes ; and his promises are now the 
 cords of love by which we may hold him fast. And 
 the best of all is, he holds us fast ; otherwise timid 
 Jacob would have taken to flight at the first attack. 
 O how lovely ! he was afraid of his brother Esau, but 
 not of the Son of God, even when he dislocated his 
 thigh. 
 
 * Let me go.' How wonderful, that he declared him- 
 self vanquished at the very moment when Jacob was 
 unable to do any thing more ! As long as Jacob, rest- 
 ing on his feet, was able to defend himself, his antago- 
 nist also did his best against him. But no sooner are 
 his feet no longer of any use to him, and Jesus must be 
 alone and entirely his support, than he becomes so 
 wholly and solely ; and Jacob, when unable to do any 
 thing more, can now do all things through Christ, who 
 strengthens him; in whom he has righteousness and 
 strength, and who himself deprived him of his own 
 strength. 
 
 In the Divine life the same thing is wont to occur. 
 At the commencement, we are generally able to do 
 many things ; we form noble resolutions, and expect 
 to fulfil them faithfully, in which we succeed to a tole- 
 rable extent. We arm ourselves with a multitude of 
 laudable maxims and noble motives. We hear and 
 read the word of God with unction and devotion. We 
 
52 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 pray much, and with fervor. If we commit a fault, we 
 repent of it bitterly, and renew our good resolutions. 
 
 But what generally happens afterwards ? The fer- 
 vor in prayer expires, and the oppressed heart can 
 scarcely relieve itself by sighs and ejaculations ; it can 
 seldom shed a tear, and must experience, to its sorrow, 
 that theWord is in the right to speak of ' stony hearts.' 
 Gladly would the individual feel the right kind of sor- 
 row at it ; but he seems to himself to be hardened. 
 And if he prays, where is the fervor 1 where the faith ? 
 And yet no prayer is heard, unless it be offered in 
 faith. Where is devotion ? when even the reception 
 of the holy sacrament itself cannot restrain the wander- 
 ing mind, however much he may strive to occupy him- 
 self only with good thoughts. 
 
 And the good resolutions ? Oh, he no longer knows 
 himself, whether they are altogether sincere! He 
 feels, indeed, self-love, unbelief, and hardness of heart ; 
 but how to alter it, unless the Holy Spirit does it ; and 
 how to obtain Him, when he prays so wretchedly, is 
 then the question. 
 
 The Christian then feels like Jacob did, when his hip 
 was out of joint. He supposes he. must irrecoverably 
 fall a prey to the wretchedness which he fears. If 
 Jesus does not accomplish the work entirely ; if he be 
 not the beginning, middle, and end ; if we are not 
 saved by grace alone ; there is at least nothing more 
 for him to hope for. The name of Jesus alone, and the 
 word grace, sustains him in some measure, while 
 every other support gives way. 
 
 But how does the faithful Shepherd act under these 
 
SERMON III. 53 
 
 circumstances ? This is the real time of mercy. O 
 what does the poor man now perceive ! His Savior 
 and his Gospel. He recognizes his supreme faithful- 
 ness in having humbled him, although he thought his 
 Lord and Master acted strangely, and intended evil 
 towards him. He now finds that the Lord permitted 
 him to succeed in nothing, although he could not con- 
 ceive before why he did not listen to his anxious sup- 
 plication. He now understands that the Lord hedged 
 up his way with thorns, to make him take the right 
 one ; and led him into the desert, that he might speak 
 kindly to him. 
 
 After having suffered the loss of his own strength, he 
 now succeeds in the very same way in which Jacob 
 succeeded, whilst casting himself entirely upon Him 
 who is all to us. 
 
 ' Let me go.' This is like the sporting of Eternal 
 Wisdom in the ' habitable parts of the earth/ which she 
 often repeats, in order to have her delights with the 
 
 O<n1 ''nnrliict of thf rVnlflrpn of mpn 
 
 A similar circumstance is mentioned concerning 
 Moses, in Exod. xxxii. This man of God remained a 
 long time upon Mount Sinai, on which God had given 
 his law. At length the people said, ' We know not 
 what is become of the man ;' and induced the brother 
 of Moses to make them a golden calf. He did so, and 
 they honored it as their God ate and drank, played 
 and danced, around it. The Lord informed Moses of it 
 and said to him, * I see that this is a stiff-necked people ; 
 now therefore let me alone, that my wrath may wax 
 hot against them, and that I may consume them ; and 
 
54 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 I will make of thee a great nation." Without the con- 
 sent of his servant, the Lord would do nothing ; and 
 Moses so adroitly took advantage of this condescension, 
 that he took the forgiveness of the people's sin with 
 him from the Mount, And how ably did he oppose 
 the Lord with his own weapons ! He confesses the 
 wickedness of the people, but pleads with him also his 
 word, his oath, and the honor of his name : and binds 
 his arm, as it were, although already lifted up to pun- 
 ish. For God always acts only in accordance with 
 his word. 
 
 The Syrophenician woman is also a remarkable in- 
 stance of this. It was assuredly only to help her, that 
 the Savior took a long journey to the borders of Tyre 
 and Sidon. But just as if he would have nothing more 
 to do with helping and delivering, he went into a 
 house, and would not that any one should know he 
 was there ; but, fortunately, he could not continue hid. 
 His arrival became known ; and, happily, a poor 
 afflicted Canaanitish woman heard of it. She besought 
 him, pitiably, to help her ; Lut Jesus did not even look 
 back, much less answer her a word. He let her cry 
 on, and walked unmercifully forward. But could his 
 heart have been seen, it would have been evident how 
 it melted with compassion. The disciples, highly as- 
 tonished at the extraordinary behavior of their Master, 
 intercede for the poor woman ; but they are repulsed, 
 and that in a manner which would have deprived even 
 the distressed mother of all courage, had not the Lord 
 continued secretly to impart fresh courage to her ; ' I 
 am not sent,' said he, ' but to the lost sheep of the 
 
SERMON III. 55 
 
 house of Israel;' and not. to people like this wo- 
 man. But she will not take a refusal ; she blocks up 
 his path, falls at his feet, and exclaims, ' Lord, help 
 me !' She had even now to sustain the severest test, 
 and is told in reply, ' It is not meet to take the chil- 
 dren's bread, and to give it unto dogs.' * Yea, Lord,' 
 answered she, ' it is certainly not right ; do not treat 
 me therefore as a child, but as a dog, to which the 
 crumbs are given which fall from the table.' Jesus is 
 now overcome ; * O woman/ he exclaims, * great is 
 thy faith ! Be it unto thee even as thou wilt.' 
 
 After his resurrection, he joined himself to the two 
 disciples going to Emmaus. He spake to them in such a 
 manner, that their hearts began to burn with love and 
 joy whilst he expounded the Scriptures to them. He 
 holds their eyes, and they walk forwards with him, and 
 listen to him, without knowing who he is. At length, 
 towards evening, they arrive at the inn. His love is 
 too great for him to leave them, and yet he wishes to 
 have the pleasure of being invited by them. . He 
 makes therefore as if he would go further, whilst ren- 
 dering it impossible for them to let him go. They 
 urged him to remain, or more properly, they compelled 
 him ; which gratified him much. He remained there- 
 fore. Whilst breaking the bread, their eyes were open- 
 ed. They knew him, and the same moment he vanish- 
 ed. . Theh* joy was too much for them alone : they 
 hastened back to Jerusalem, and there all was joy, 
 animation, and triumph. He was risen indeed. 
 
 Lazarus, his friend, dies ; although he is informed of 
 his sickness, and sends word that it is not unto death. 
 
56 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 He remains quietly in his place : he suffers the friend 
 whom he loves to expire. Lazarus is buried, and lies 
 four days in the grave. AIL hope is at an end. Jesus 
 surfers Mary and Martha to weep and mourn, although 
 he loves them also, and does not once visit them. He 
 even almost confuses their faith : for Lazarus is dead, 
 although he had said, ' The sickness is not unto death.' 
 At length he comes, but too late ; and now stands and 
 weeps with them, although he might have helped them. 
 ' Ah, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had 
 not died,' says Mary, and falls weeping and almost 
 heart-broken at his feet ; and no one can refrain from 
 weeping, not even he himself. All at once he ex- 
 claims ( Lazarus, come forth !' and the dead man 
 again comes to life, after he had been dead four days. 
 For Christ's word and promise must be fulfilled, what 
 ever happens : and Abraham went by no means to too 
 great lengths, in hoping, after receiving the Divine 
 promise, where nothing was to be hoped for. 
 
 * Let me go.' If many of those who belong to 
 Christ, who surrender themselves to him with heart and 
 hand, are to be sirnamed Jacob and Israel, as we read 
 in Isaiah xliv., they will have to pass through a similar 
 conflict to that described. 
 
 ( Let him go,' says the world and sin, at first, to the 
 heart which is desirous of resigning itself to Jesus ; 
 as if we should fare better in the service of sin, than in 
 following Jesus. It may violently and variously incite 
 and tempt us to withdraw our hearts from Jesus, and no 
 longer strive against it, but submit ourselves to it. The 
 world advises us to let Jesus go, and whispers, 'Why wilt 
 
SERMON III. 57 
 
 thou renounce the company and amusements thou hast 
 hitherto enjoyed, and trouble and shorten thy days ? 
 Consider what others will say to it. Who can live in such 
 a manner ? It is not even necessary ; and if it were, it 
 is still time enough. It seeks to gain only a particle of 
 our hearts, because all the rest easily follows. If Jesus 
 himself was obliged to endure such temptations, as when 
 it was said, ' All tnis will I give thee, if thou wilt fall 
 down and worship me !' we must also be satisfied to 
 bear them, and show ourselves as good soldiers of 
 Christ. 
 
 Satan also says, c Let him go,' even as he deceitfully 
 promised Jesus himself the whole world, if he would 
 let God go, and serve the prince of this world. As 
 long as he is able, he takes away the word from the 
 heart of man. When he can no longer succeed in this, 
 and the individual begins to think with all earnestness 
 of his salvation, he then tries to depict godliness as 
 much too difficult ; the heart of Jesus as full of wrath and 
 displeasure ; and to persuade him that it is now too late, 
 and that it will not avail, whatever trouble he may 
 give himself; he is either too great a sinner, or is much 
 too small a one in his own eyes. ' Trouble not the mas- 
 ter,' therefore ; what will it avail ? pacify thyself as 
 well as thou art able, and let the serious thought of 
 Jesus and thy salvation go. And he may even go so far 
 as to quote what the despisers say in Mai. iii. 14, * It is 
 vain to serve God, and what profit is it that we have 
 kept his ordinance, and that we have walked mournfully 
 before the Lord of hosts V 
 
 Yea, even as Jesus once said to his disciples, ' Will ye 
 6 
 
58 WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 also go away V and here said to Jacob, ' Let me go V 
 he also informs us, that if we will follow him,we must 
 deny ourselves, and take up our cross ; that the path is 
 narrow on which he leads us, and that we must not ex- 
 pect continued enjoyment, but also sensible sufferings. 
 If he often lets us pray a long time before he comes to 
 our aid, or conceals himself anew, when we supposed 
 we had really found him, and when we cannot perceive 
 by his guidance that he loves us, cares for us, will do 
 all things well, "but seems, on the contrary, to be oppos- 
 ed to us, as in the case of Jacob he then, as it were, 
 says to us ' Let me go.' 
 
 In such a situation, the Christian has a fine oppor- 
 tunity of giving a proof of his estimation of Jesus, and of 
 his earnestness in seeking salvation, of showing what is 
 the object of his desire and choice, what he clings to, 
 and what he is willing to offer up. Job went so far in 
 this as to declare, that he would rather die than part 
 with his integrity. Abraham was ready to sacrifice his 
 son Isaac, the dearest and the best he had in the world. 
 The Apostles, and many thousands of other Christians, 
 did not shun bonds and imprisonment nay, even every 
 torture, and the most horrible death, to win Christ. 
 
 The Savior is not only able, but frequently really : 
 gives his people such an insight into his heart, so full 
 of love, grace, and truth, that, like Jacob, they clearly 
 perceive that they may ask in his name what they will, 
 in the certainty that he will grant it them ; and, in a 
 certain sense, must do so, for his faithfulness arid his 
 truth's sake. 
 
 Their hearts become so enlarged, that they feel the 
 
SERMON III. 59 
 
 entire emphasis of the passage, * He that spared not his 
 own Son, but freely gave him up for us all how shall 
 he not with him also freely give us all things !' ' What- 
 soever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give 
 it you.' Jacob's heart expanded so much at the words, 
 ' Let me go,' that he answered, ' I will not let thee go, 
 except thou bless me.' But more of this another time. 
 At present I only add : 
 
 If you are desirous of becoming true and sincere 
 Christians, let not your heart be troubled, neither let it 
 be afraid. Ye believe in God believe also in Jesus 
 Christ. If sometimes your path is strange, incompre- 
 hensible, and painful, you have no reason to fear. Be 
 not dismayed, when you can accomplish nothing more 
 by your own strength ; for Christ makes you weak, only 
 that his strength may be perfected in your weakness. 
 But, whether courageous or fearful, do not forsake Jesus. 
 
 1 Faithful is he who hath called you, who also will 
 do it.' Amen. 
 
SERMON IV. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 26. 
 And he said, I will not let thee go unless thou bless me. 
 
 . WE read, in 2 Kings xiii. 14, that Elisha, that great 
 and remarkable prophet, at length fell sick, and drew 
 near his end. Joash, the king of Israel, came and vis- 
 ited him : and when he saw how dangerous his illness 
 was, the king wept, and exclaimed, ' O my father, my 
 father, the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof ! } 
 Thou art near death, who wast more to Israel than a 
 whole army, and often delivered it out of its distresses ! 
 What a loss ! especially at a time when the Syrians 
 were pressing Israel sorely. 
 
 The sick prophet had pleasing news from the Lord 
 for the sorrowing king, which he communicated to him 
 in a symbolical manner. He told him to open a win- 
 dow, and shoot out of it. The king shot, and the pro- 
 phet said, < This is an arrow of the Lord's deliverance 
 from Syria.' He then told the king to take other ar- 
 rows, and smite upon the ground with them ; which 
 was again intended as a pre-intimation of successful oc- 
 currences ; as Joash might have inferred from the first 
 sign. But he smote only thrice, and then ceased. The 
 man of God was then wroth with him, and said, 
 ' Thou shouldst have smitten five or six times ; then 
 
SERMON IV. 61 
 
 hadst thou smitten Syria till thou hadst consumed it ; 
 whereas now thou shalt smite Syria but thrice.' 
 
 Such is the history. What does it teach us ? That 
 we should not stop half way in the spiritual course, 
 but press forward to the mark. Even in spiritual 
 things we may stop, after having smitten thrice, when 
 we ought to have done it six times. Some satisfy 
 themselves entirely with the externals of religion ; and 
 are contented with having smitten once, so to speak. 
 Propriety of conduct, going to church, and the recep- 
 tion of the sacrament, constitute the whole of their 
 religion. They ought, however, to go on to repentance 
 and faith, and thus smite five or six times. Some 
 smite the ground twice, and add to their outward ob- 
 servances, attendance at meetings, and a greater degree 
 of prayer ; they also feel a little distressed, and are then 
 a little relieved, and are like the foolish virgins who 
 carry lamps without oil ; are ever hearing and learning, 
 and yet do not attain to the knowledge of the truth. 
 Others possess genuine grace, poverty of spirit, sorrow 
 for sin, and a hungering and thirsting after righteous- 
 ness ; and yet, like Joash, they do not obtain a com- 
 plete victory, although they obtain salvation : their 
 faith rests upon their feelings, and is as mutable as the 
 latter. It depends upon the consciousness of the cha- 
 racteristic marks of a state of grace, and is founded 
 more upon the grace in them, than that which is in 
 Christ Jesus ; and hence they are never comfortable ; 
 they smite the ground twice or thrice ; they do not pro- 
 ceed in a direct line towards Jesus ; and resemble a 
 man who looks at a star through a telescope held by a 
 6* 
 
62 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 trembling hand he sees it sometimes, but not at others, 
 and must then seek it again. 
 
 There are also some who, like the Corinthians 
 whom Paul reproves, are soon satisfied. They have 
 had some experience in religion, their acquaintance 
 with which induces them to reckon themselves amongst 
 the children of God, notwithstanding all their present 
 coldness and estrangement from Jesus ; and to regard 
 it as faith, and even strong faith, that they do not 
 doubt of their state of grace. But believing in Jesus is 
 certainly something else than the belief in our own 
 state of grace ; and salvation is promised, not to the 
 latter, but to the former. If we are in the vine, where is 
 the sap 1 They have ceased to smite, when they ought 
 to have continued to do so. 
 
 But there are others who look steadfastly unto Jesus, 
 and do not receive him half, but entirely ; not occasion- 
 ally, but continually ; and maintain an uninterrupted 
 intercourse with him. They are wholly sinners in 
 their own esteem, and let Jesus be their entire Savior ; 
 and thus they smite five or six times, until they con- 
 sume the Syrian host. 
 
 Jacob, terrified at the wrath of his brother Esau, has 
 recourse to the Lord in prayer. Scarcely has he begun 
 to do so, when a man lays hold of him, in the dark- 
 ness of the night, and struggles with him. He endea- 
 vors not only by bodily strength to expel him from the 
 place, but also to drive him from the throne of grace, 
 by setting before him his sins ; both, however, solely 
 with the intention of exercising his faith, and occasion- 
 ing him a new victory. Jacob resists with his bodily 
 
SERMON IV. 63 
 
 powers, and especially by his tears and prayers, accord- 
 ing to Hosea. (xii. 4.) The struggle becomes more vio- 
 lent, so that the patriarch's thigh is dislocated by the 
 touch of his antagonist. But the very moment in 
 which he was unable to continue the conflict, in conse- 
 quence of being deprived of his strength, and when 
 compelled to sink down completely overcome, so that 
 he must necessarily fall into the hands of Esau, he 
 throws himself upon the neck of his opponent, who 
 then declares himself vanquished ; thus he is in Jacob's 
 power, and cannot depart unless the patriarch volunta- 
 rily releases him. Wonderful procedure! As long 
 as Jacob possessed strength he was overcome, and con- 
 quers at the moment when it forsakes him. ' When I 
 am weak, then am I strong.' To them that have no 
 might, increased power is given, whilst the strong 
 grow weary and fall. Who can understand it, or com- 
 prehend the wonders of the kingdom of God ? Only 
 they to whom it is given. To others it is a stumbling- 
 block, and foolishness. Jacob perceived very clearly 
 what was implied in the words, ' Let me go ;' he per- 
 ceived that his opponent was in his power, yielded him- 
 self to him, and virtually said, ' Ask of me, and I will 
 give thee the heathen for an inheritance, and the utter- 
 most parts of the earth for a possession.' And he 
 faithfully took advantage of this when he answered, 
 ' I will not let thee go unless thou bless me.' 
 We consider, 
 
 What the blessing implied : 
 
 Jacob's resolution not to let the Son of God go, 
 before bestowing it ; and lastly, 
 
 The result. 
 
64 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 The Lord, in his word, has opened the door of grace 
 to us to an astonishing extent. If we had faith, and, 
 like Jacob, made a due and bold use of it, we should 
 experience marvellous things. It is said in general, 
 * Ask, and ye shall receive. Ask, and it shall be given 
 you, that your joy may be full.' And there is no limit- 
 ation prescribed, either in asking or in giving ; on the 
 contrary Christ says, ' What things soever ye desire, 
 when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye 
 shall have them ;' and adds, ' Have faith in God. For 
 verily I say unto you, that whosoever shall say unto 
 this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into 
 the sea ; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall be- 
 live those things which he saith shall come to pass : he 
 shall have whatsoever he saith.' What a bill if I 
 may speak in a mercantile manner has He whose 
 name is Amen, here drawn upon himself ! and since 
 his riches are unsearchable, there is no doubt of the 
 payment. < Yes,' says Paul, he is rich unto all that 
 call upon him.' 
 
 It is however said, ( Have faith in God !' and there 
 is great want of this upon earth. The testimony of 
 man is received ; but the testimony of God, which is 
 greater dreadful thought ! no man receiveth. But 
 he that receives it, sets to his seal that God is true ; 
 and he that does not, deprives himself of eternal life. 
 (John iii. 32, 33.) 
 
 In how many different ways the Savior seeks to en- 
 courage boldness in prayer ! He asks parents whether 
 they would give a stone to their children when asking 
 for bread, or poison instead of food ; and teaches us to 
 
SERMON IV. 65 
 
 draw the conclusion, that God who is gracious, and 
 even love itself, is certainly ready to bestow blessings 
 which cost him nothing, since men are capable of doing 
 good, though they are evil, and though it costs them 
 something. Is it possible, that a friend can show kind- 
 ness to another, when urgently entreated, although it 
 occasion him trouble ; and you will not place a similar 
 confidence in God, who, by a mere nod, can communi- 
 cate the greatest blessings to you, without being the 
 least incommoded by it ? You think it possible that a 
 haughty and unrighteous judge, who neither fears God 
 nor regards man, may be induced, by the persevering 
 entreaties of an inconsiderable widow, to grant her re- 
 quest ; and yet imagine that your kind and gracious 
 Father will unfeelingly suffer you to supplicate him in 
 vain ? He who says, ' Call upon me in the day of 
 trouble ; I will deliver thee.' Be ashamed of your in- 
 credulity ! If he has given up his Son the best, and 
 dearest, and most excellent of all he possessed shall he 
 hesitate about infinitely inferior benefits ? Will he not 
 rather, with him, freely give us all things ? Is it not 
 irrational, absurd folly and sin to cherish the smallest 
 doubt of it ? Ah, Lord, teach us how to pray ! for it is 
 a wonderful art to be able to pray aright. 
 
 We know neither how we ought to pray, nor what 
 we ought to pray for as we ought. But the Spirit 
 maketh intercession for us with groanings that cannot 
 be uttered. And certainly prayer is a very different 
 thing to the sound and arrangement of the words that 
 are used ; and it is a question, with respect to many, 
 whether ever they prayed in their lives, however often 
 
66 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 they thought they prayed and seemed to pray ; whilst 
 others pray very powerfully who believe they cannot 
 pray at all. ' But if ye abide in me, says the Savior, 
 and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, 
 and it shall be done unto you.' (John xv. 7.) 
 
 Jactfb understood all this. He perceived that he had 
 the Son of God in his power, and could request as great 
 a blessing of him as he wished. Hence he declares 
 that he will not let him go unless he bless him. 
 
 But what is the meaning of blessing ? 
 
 It means, amongst men, wishing them every good, 
 particularly of a spiritual kind, from God through 
 Christ, in a praying and believing frame. The blessings 
 which Isaac, and afterwards Jacob, pronounced upon 
 his sons, were prophetic announcements, and therefore 
 of a very peculiar kind. The first-mentioned descrip- 
 tion of blessing is pleasing and salutary. 
 
 Pleasing are the good wishes of one towards another, 
 when springing from a loving heart, which is turned 
 towards God through Christ ; for they are proofs and 
 signs of love, and consequently expressions of the 
 image of God. They are therefore beautiful .and 
 sacred, and only true Christians know how to bestow 
 them and they do so too. How many salutations 
 does the New Testament contain ! The sixteenth chap- 
 ter of the Epistle to the Romans consists almost entirely 
 of them ; and saluting or greeting means nothing more 
 than affectionately blessing, and consists not in the 
 sound of words, but in the emotion of the heart. It is 
 an exercise becoming Christians ; for they are priests, 
 whose province it is to bless. Hence Paul took plea- 
 
SERMON IV. 67 
 
 sure also in mentioning the salutations of others, which 
 he by no means looked upon as inconsiderable trifles. 
 St. John likewise does not fail to communicate the salu- 
 tations of pious children, with which he had been 
 charged, as his second Epistle proves. But he looks 
 upon such salutations very earnestly and closely, when, 
 in the same Epistle, he enjoins that those who do not 
 bring with them the doctrine of Christ the doctrine of 
 the Father and the Son shall not be receivecl into the 
 house, nor even be wished God speed ; for John pos- 
 sessed as much holiness as love, respecting which we 
 must not imagine that it consents to every thing, 
 although it doth not behave itself unseemly. God him- 
 self is a sea of love ; and yet his anger burns, his lips 
 are full of fury, and his tongue a consuming fire. For 
 even as love attracts that to it which is like itself ; so 
 also it violently rejects that which is unlike. Hence 
 Jesus also, on the day of final judgment, will say, 
 4 Depart from me, ye evil doers ; I never knew you.' 
 Even as he also said to Satan, ' Get thee behind me.' 
 
 The salutation or blessing of real Christians is like- 
 wise something salutary and powerful, when it is 
 bestowed as it ought, with a believing elevation of the 
 heart to God through Christ. We believe in the 
 communion of saints. It consists not merely in that 
 sincere and heart-felt love which so infallibly prevails 
 amongst real Christians, that John adduces it as a cha- 
 racteristic of having passed from death unto life ; and 
 adds, ' He that loveth not his brother abideth in death.' 
 It consists not merely in contributing to their support 
 with our outward substance, and ministering to them 
 
68 THE WKESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 with our spiritual gifts, such as instruction, encourage- 
 ment, and consolation ; but we have also reason to be- 
 lieve that our labor is not in vain in the Lord, when 
 you bless me in spirit, and I, in return, bless you, and 
 when we mutually supplicate for each other grace and 
 salvation from God. For the Lord fulfils the desire of 
 them that fear him. Nay, it is even a reciprocal duty. 
 1 Pray for the peace of Jerusalem,' it is said in Psalm 
 cxxii. an expression synonymous with wishing pros- 
 perity to it. ' They shall prosper that love thee.' 
 { We bless you in the name of the Lord,' is the conclu- 
 sion of Psalm cxxix. And Paul says, ' Pray for one 
 another ;' and also requests the intercessions of the 
 church on his own behalf. Let us also mutually exer- 
 cise this, that the body of Christ may be edified. Our 
 blessing, however, is powerless in itself, and is only 
 effectual when our hearts are incited to it by the Lord, 
 and accord with His will. 
 
 Jacob desires to be blest by the Lord himself; and 
 the blessing of the Lord does not consist in mere words, 
 but in the real communication of grace and gifts. The 
 Lord left this world whilst lifting up his hands in the 
 act of blessing ; but we do not read that he uttered 
 any thing on the occasion. He imparted real life to 
 his disciples ; which enabled them to return to Jerusa- 
 lem without the visible presence of Jesus not with 
 sorrow, but with joy. 
 
 Every thing, in the kingdom of God, has reference 
 to that which is real and substantial. The world, on 
 the contrary, is a kingdom of falsehood. It promises 
 pleasure and delight, and even rest ; but it does not 
 
SERMON IV. 69 
 
 keep its word. What it gives is shadow, which may 
 for a season deceive, so that the mistaken individual 
 himself imagines that he is wonderfully well satisfied. 
 But before he is aware, the delusive prospect fades 
 from his view, and he finds himself enveloped in dark- 
 ness. The world deprives him again of all the dignities, 
 pleasures, property, and happiness it had afforded him, 
 in order to bestow them upon others. It pays no atten- 
 tion to his ardent desire for the further possession and 
 enjoyment of them, nor to his great unwillingness to 
 part with them. Inexorable death deprives him of 
 every thing ; reduces him to dust ; and hurries him, 
 naked and bare, into another world, where he meets 
 with none of the objects which had been lent him for 
 a time ; where the man in authority is no longer re- 
 spected, and where the rich man no longer possesses 
 anything ; because nothing avails then, but the new 
 creature, which after God is created in righteousness 
 and true holiness, which he does not possess ; and in 
 faith which worketh by love, of which he is destitute. 
 Poor deceived mortal ! 
 
 Thus the world is a kingdom of lies, and we ourselves 
 are also full of deceit, which misleads the understanding 
 as well as the desire to seek happiness in vanity. Hence 
 the individual must be born again ; from being carnal, 
 must become spiritual ; from being earthly, must become 
 heavenly ; and from being an unbeliever, must become 
 a believer ; and thus enter into the kingdom of God, 
 which consists solely of truth and reality. When in 
 the latter, anything is termed good or evil, it is really 
 so, and will manifest itself to be so. The things are 
 7 
 
70 .THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 really as it describes them. When it says, t Seek that ! J 
 it is really worth while. When it says, set not your 
 affections upon that particular object,' it is hot worth 
 the while striving for it. In short, it always advises us 
 for the best. Its -promises also are true and sure. 
 When it says, " The blood of Christ cleanses the con- 
 science from all sin, and renders us happy," it proves it- 
 self to be so in our minds; even as many thousands, in 
 every age, have found it confirmed in their own expe- 
 rience. If it tells us, "The Lord careth for you," it 
 proves that it is the case in all who receive the saying. 
 Its joys are real and substantial ; and when once it will 
 appear what we shall bej all 'our expectations will be 
 exceeded. In short, 
 
 " Who seeks this world, a burthen finds, 
 Which firmly on his back he binds. 
 Upon the chaff and wind he feeds, 
 And a most wretched life he leads, 
 Until at length he feels, too late, 
 The misery of such a fate. 
 A friend in need, in death a stay, 
 A comfort during all the way, 
 Unfailing, thou wilt find in none, 
 On earth or heaven, but God alone." 
 
 With all its wisdom, the world is nothing but deceit, 
 when it presumes to put in its word upon spiritual things, 
 because it knows nothing of Christ. But upon him who 
 enters into the kingdom of God the true and marvellous 
 light arises, and he sees what was otherwise hidden 
 from his eyes. When Jesus blesses, he actually imparts 
 ' all things that pertain to life and godliness.' 
 
 What is it, therefore, that we call blessing ? It is the 
 
' SERMON IV. 71 
 
 opposite of curse. As the latter comprehends in it all 
 that is evil,. with respect to body and soul, in time and 
 eternity ; so blessing, on the contrary, comprises in it all 
 inward and outward temporal and spiritual prosperity. 
 Outward prosperity, that is, perfect health, .disturbed by 
 no sickness, pain, or indisposition ; in the enjoyment of 
 which, the body possesses all possible perfection, so 
 that no weariness oppresses it, no tedium troubles it, 
 and every sense is capable of uninterrupted and exalted 
 enjoyment. We must certainly take into account, at 
 the same time, the infinite period after the resurrection ; 
 but in the kingdom of God a thousand years pass for a 
 day, and Jesus as a perfect Savior renders at length both 
 body and soul perfectly healthy and happy ; as an infal- 
 lible pledge of which we know that he himself dwells 
 in heaven with body and soul. 
 
 Blessing, in a spiritual sense, is a perfectly tranquiliz- 
 ed mind, an. understanding endowed with all perception, 
 a heart thoroughly pervaded by God, and entirely one 
 with God, which may be experienced even here below, 
 in a good measure. It is true we live here by faith and 
 not by sight, and are saved and sanctified by hope, and 
 are not yet m perfect possession and enjoyment. The 
 blessing, the life, however, which takes its commence- 
 ment here, .is an eternal blessing, an eternal life ; and 
 becomes in us a well of water springing up to everlast- 
 ing life. Let it suffice you, that you are kept, through 
 faith unto salvation ; and that all tilings shall work to- 
 gether for good to them that love $od. Rejoice that 
 your names are written in heaven, and that a mansion 
 it already prepared for you. The heavenly Joshua is 
 
72 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 able to conduct you through the wilderness, and not to 
 let you want either bread or water ; and even if you 
 must have flesh, he knows how to procure it ; only take 
 care to leave the world its onions and its garlic. 
 
 What has been premised sufficiently proves, that 
 blessing comprehends in it the entire appropriation of 
 salvation, from the first gentle inclination of the man's 
 will towards God of which he himself may perhaps 
 be unconscious to perfect felicity before the throne of 
 the Lamb ; from the being called with a holy calling 
 to the being glorified in heaven 5 for it is one blessing, 
 something entire. Hence Paul represents it, in Rom. 
 viii., as in a chain or series of blessings ; ' Whom he did 
 foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to 
 the image of his Son. Whom he did predestinate, 
 them he also called ; and whom he called, them he also 
 justified ; and whom he justified, them he a:: o glorified. 
 What shall we then say to these things ? If God be 
 for us, who can be against us ?' 
 
 Earthly benefits are also a species of blessing, which 
 certainly ought not to be overlooked. The abundant 
 harvest of the present year forcibly draws our attention 
 to this view of the subject. The field and the garden 
 preach to us concerning the goodness of God, by pre- 
 senting us with the enjoyment of it, with respect to 
 which we ought not to be unsusceptible, but to lift up 
 our eyes to the God of blessing, who opens his liberal 
 hand, and satisfies the desire of every living thing, and 
 on whom our temporal prosperity as much depends as 
 our spiritual. But we call whatever belongs to our 
 temporal prosperity only a species of blessing ; because 
 
SERMON IV. 73 
 
 even the wicked partake of it, whilst the godly not uri- 
 frequently obtain only a small share. God causes his 
 sun to shine upon the evil and the good, and his rain to 
 descend on the just and the unjust. Temporal benefits 
 are only a curse to the ^wicked ; and in the end they 
 fall into the most bitter poverty, as-we see in the exam- 
 ple of the rich man. What does it profit a man, if he 
 gain the whole world and lose his own soul? What 
 avails all participation in the things of the present world, 
 without having part in that which is to come ? And 
 how lamentable is the folly of neglecting eternal bless- 
 ings, whilst seeking after transitory good; and yet, 
 alas ! ho\v common ! 
 
 The triune God is the source of all blessing. c The 
 Lord bless thee and keep thee ! The Lord cause his 
 face to shine upon thee, and be gracious to thee ! The 
 Lord lift up the light of his countenance upon thee, and 
 grant thee peace !' From him, as the Father of lights, 
 comes down every good and perfect gift. No man can 
 receive anything, except it be given him of the Father. 
 It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, 
 but of God that showeth mercy, and of his free will. It 
 is in vain to rise early and sit up late, unless the Lord 
 give his blessing with it. In vain is the watchfulness 
 of the watchman, unless the Lord keep the city ; or 
 the industry of the builder, unless the Lord co-operate. 
 With all his rapidity, the swift may fail in the race, be- 
 cause he either applies it too early or too late. With 
 all his ability, the merchant may miscalculate, and fail, 
 notwithstanding all his prudence. Strength alone is 
 not sufficient to secure victory in the combat, nor does 
 
74 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 expertness in anything render the individual accept- 
 able. 
 
 Success belongs to a jurisdiction which receives no 
 laws from princes, since they are themselves the sub- 
 jects of that which men call time and chance ; but we 
 Christians, ' Divine Providence.' Be careful for noth- 
 ing, and know at least that it is of no avail. The case is 
 the same with spiritual things, and in a still greater de- 
 gree. The Lord bless thee ! Thou art then blessed indeed. 
 
 The real cause of blessing is Christ crucified his 
 priesthood and, primarily, his expiring on the cross. 
 The blessing had departed from us, and it was neces- 
 sary to regain it for us. The curse had come upon us, 
 and must be removed. Both were too great and too 
 difficult for us to accomplish. The price was such, that 
 we should never have been able to procure it. God 
 then sent his Son into the world. He came attired in 
 such a manner that no one regarded him for what he 
 really was but he to whom the Father revealed it. A 
 simple son of man, in fashion as other men, few only 
 beheld his glory, the glory of the only begotten Son of 
 the Father, full of grace and truth. In the form of a 
 servant, it was easy to take him for any thing else than 
 the Lord from heaven. And what was the end of him ? 
 He died in the flower of his years died without having 
 apparently accomplished any thing died in the most 
 wretched, painful, and ignominious manner, as a con- 
 demned malefactor, as a defamer of Divine and human 
 majesty, and was buried. What shall we say to these 
 things ? The disciples knew not what to say, and wept. 
 The Jews thought they understood it. " If he were 
 
SERMON IV. 75 
 
 not a malefactor ; if there were any truth in the thing ; 
 if it were only half true what he affirmed as entirely so 
 with an oath, that he was the Son of God ; he could 
 not possibly have been crucified." But a mystery lay, 
 and lies, in the whole affair a mystery that was hid- 
 den from the beginning of the world ; but which is re- 
 vealed to us by the Apostles ; a mystery which was un- 
 known to the rulers of this world ; a wisdom of God 
 with them that are perfect; in one word, the mystery 
 of the cross of Christ. And what mystery is that? 
 Paul declares it in Gal. iii. 13, when he says, ( Christ 
 hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, by becom- 
 ing a curse for us, which is proved by the manner of 
 his death ; for it is written, Cursed is every one that 
 hangeth on a tree.' And Christ hung upon the tree, 
 that we might receive the blessing already promised to 
 Abraham. Jesus is therefore, by virtue of his death, 
 the true high priest, who pronounces the blessing upon 
 us ; from Him we must seek it, even as Jacob did. 
 
 But what are the means for obtaining the blessing 1 
 Not works. If you seek it thus, you will nevertheless 
 continue under the curse; (Gal. iii. 10) and though 
 you torment yourselves day and night, you will ad- 
 vance no further. Jacob had also wrestled mightily ; 
 and such must be the case, and it must be continued 
 with all earnestness, as long as we are able to accom- 
 plish anything. At length we are obliged to stand 
 still. Jacob had at last no alternative, after his thigh 
 was put out of joint, than passively to cast himself upon 
 the neck of the Son of God ; and then only it was that 
 * he blessed him there.' 
 
76 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 By faith, says Paul elsewhere, we are to receive the 
 promised Spirit ; and calls the Galatians, who had un- 
 derstood it otherwise, foolish and bewitched. Read the 
 chapter in which this occurs yea, the whole Epistle ; 
 but do it as a humble scholar, do it with a prayerful 
 looking unto the Lord, that you may learn from him- 
 self the true method of becoming a partaker of his bless- 
 ing ; for our own reason will be here of no avail, but 
 the. sentiment conveyed in the words, ' I thank thee, 
 Father, that thou hast hid these things from the wise 
 and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.' 
 
 We need say little respecting the necessity of this 
 blessing. It might be imagined, that every one would 
 clearly perceive it. Or are ye the people, who, after 
 having sown or planted any thing, can yourselves 
 cause it to spring up and 'increase ? Or are there 
 princes anywhere, to whom we may apply, in order to 
 obtain -sunshine, rain, or healthy seasons? Are you 
 yourselves the wise, and able, and powerful people on 
 whom the direction of success and the seasons depends ? 
 If so, we will confess that you are little gods. Can 
 you impart to yourselves the impulse .to all 'that is good, 
 and hatred to all that is evil ? Are you able to expel 
 from yourselves sin, self-love, envy, self-interest, and 
 unbelief? Can you render yourselves meek, humble, 
 benevolent, patient, heavenly minded ? If so, we must 
 confess that you are really the whole that need not a 
 physician, and the righteous, who require no repent- 
 ance ; confess that you have some other progenitor 
 than Adam the sinner, and that consequently you can 
 reasonably do without the second Adam ; that Paul's 
 
SERMON IV. 77 
 
 assertion, that ' there is no difference, for all have sin- 
 ned, and come short of the glory of God,' does not ex- 
 tend to you ; and that you make an unheard-of excep- 
 tion. As for us, we believe that it is God who work- 
 eth in us both to will and to do ; that we are not suffi- 
 cient as of ourselves to think anything good, but that 
 our sufficiency is of God ; are of opinion that it is the 
 work of God/when we believe on the name of the Son 
 of God; and think that Jesus is quite in the right, 
 when he says, ' Ye are not able to make a single hair 
 either white or black.' 
 
 When we call ourselves sinners, we do so because 
 \v really know not by what other term to designate 
 ourselves, and thus nothing is left us but to have re- 
 course to Him, on whose neck Jacob hung ; and to de- 
 clare with him, * I will not let thee go, unless thou bless 
 me !' Do you know any better way 1 God himself 
 said, < I know of none.' 
 
 Finally, we have still to remark the possibility of 
 obtaining this blessing, and the certainty of it for all 
 who are of Abraham's faith. ' Seek, and ye shall find.' 
 This cannot be said with so much certainty of earthly 
 blessings, otherwise we should have a greater number 
 of rich people. But with respect to this blessing, we 
 are empowered by supreme authority, even by the King 
 of kings, to assert that he that seeketh findeth. Let 
 him therefore, who esteems it a matter of importance, 
 betake himself to the search ; and let him who is seek- 
 ing it, say with Jacob, ' I will not let thee go, except 
 thou bless me.' Of this, therefore, we have still to 
 speak : but this we will leave till another time. 
 
78 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 See to it, therefore, that ye receive not the grace 1 of 
 God in vain. There is something terrible in the words, 
 6 He refused the blessing, and chose the curse, therefore 
 it shall come upon him.' Terrible are the words which 
 are spoken of every transgressor of the law : ';Let him 
 be accursed.' * This people that knoweth not'the law 
 is accursed.' 
 
 . . Beware of esteeming earthly blessings too highly, 
 and spiritual ones too meanly } and know that you 
 have long lain under the curse, unless you believe in 
 Jesus Christ. See to it betimes, that the sentence of 
 death and damnation already pronounced upon you be 
 not executed, and that by the mediation of Christ it be 
 transformed into a sentence of justification unto life. 
 What will otherwise become of you ? Wrestle for the 
 blessing like Jacob, with all your strength, and with all 
 your energy. Say, I must and will know how it stands 
 with reference to my soul's salvation; otherwise I will 
 not rest.. You will never repent the labor, although it 
 may be painful to you, even as Jacob also experienced 
 labor and pain. But how glorious was the result ; when 
 it is said, ' He. blessed him there.' How happy you will 
 esteem yourselves ; with what thankfulness and joy you 
 will point out the hour, the opportunity, the place, 
 where you will be assured of the blessing, become par- 
 takers of it, and be translated from the kingdom of -lies 
 mto the kingdom of truth, and yourselves experience its 
 wonders ! The Lord will then remain with you, and 
 guide you safely through the wilderness, until at -length 
 you are present with the Lord. Amen. 
 
SERMON V. 
 
 GENESIS xxxii. 26. 
 
 'And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, I 
 mil not let thee go, except thou bless me. 
 
 ON a recent occasion, we considered the former part 
 of the subject contained in the words of our text. We 
 have still to meditate upon the conduct of Jacob ex- 
 pressed in the words. 1 will not let thee go, except 
 thou bless me." 
 
 This blessing comprises in \t, generally speaking, the 
 appropriation of the salvation purchased by Christ, from 
 its first scarcely perceptible commencement in the indi- 
 vidual, to its completion in heaven ; from the first incli- 
 nation of the will towards God and his truth, to the 
 ^aiidmn before the throne of the Lamb; from the 
 us inquiry, * What must I do to be saved V to the 
 being satisfied with Divine felicity as with a stream ; in 
 which appropriation there is a commencement, a con- 
 tinuation, and a completion observable. 
 
 Jacob expresses a strong and ardent desire for this 
 blessing. He does not however mean its first begin- 
 nings ; for he had no doubt of the favor of God, of the 
 forgiveness of his sins, and that the renewing of the 
 Divine image had already been commenced in him. 
 He had no doubt of the validity of the blessing received 
 
80 . THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 from his father, although not in an entirely correct 
 manner ; since not only his father, but God himself, had 
 confirmed it. He had not the smallest hesitation with 
 regard to the Divine sealing of the promise he had re- 
 ceived, but appeals to it in the twelfth verse, with all 
 boldness. He did not consider himself as one in whom 
 the Lord had hitherto had no pleasure, but although en- 
 tirely unworthy of it, as the favored object of his mercy 
 and loving kindness, of which he had received the most 
 visible and affecting proofs. 
 
 But still he was not satisfied. He longed to be bless- 
 ed in a superior, more inward, and profound manner 
 than before. And the Lord himself had excited this 
 desire, this hunger, and this longing within him. The 
 Lord had awakened in him the feeling of necessity for 
 a superior blessing, for a -more substantial impartation 
 of grace. He had inflicted a deep wound upon him, 
 not only outwardly but inwardly also, which rendered 
 him desirous of being healed. He could no longer ex- 
 ist in the manner he had done hitherto, nor be any 
 longer satisfied with his state of grace. He wished for 
 more. From being Jacob, he desired to become Israel. 
 The eagle felt its wings and wished to soar aloft with 
 with them. It was with him as with the grain of 
 wheat in the lap of earth, whose germ bursts the husk, 
 and springs forth. He felt as though what had been 
 said to his grandfather Abraham, had been also said to 
 him : ' Walk before me, and be thou perfect ; for I will 
 make a covenant between me and thee.' From being 
 a youth he wished to become a man. 
 
 When a soul is called from an inferior to a higher 
 
SERMON V. 81 
 
 state of grace, and to a more perfect faith, and when 
 Christ is to be more completely formed in the soul, a 
 certain pressure precedes .it. This was also the case 
 with Jacob ; and the Lord employed a variety of means 
 to produce in him this necessity for and craving after a 
 superior communication of grace and blessing. He first 
 gave him the command to return to the land of Canaan, 
 where his father dwelt, and also his brother Esau, and 
 gradually conducted him to the scene of conflict where 
 we have hitherto contemplated him, and where wonder- 
 ful but glorious things occurred to him. In Mesopota- 
 mia he had no reason to trouble himself about his bro- 
 ther's fury, although he had something to suffer from 
 the convetousness of his father-in-law ; but now he 
 himself, with all that was dear and valuable to him, 
 was at stake, and he was cast, as it were, to the lions. 
 It was not his own choice ; for tin's would have been 
 fool-hardy, and he would have been unable, in tliis case, 
 to have made God his confident. It was the Lord's own 
 guidance. To this Jacob appeals in the ninth verse, 
 * Thou saidst unto me, Return unto thy country.' The 
 Lord had also promised him, saying, * Behold, I am with 
 thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest.' 
 (ch. xxviii. 15.) His own reason and his own will 
 would have been no good guide, nor do they lead any 
 one aright. Hence the promise is, ' I will guide thee 
 with mine eye ;' * I will lead thee into the wilderness, 
 and speak comfortably unto thee.' (Hosea ii. 14.) Hence 
 David prays, * Let thy good Spirit lead me on a plain 
 path ;' and again, * Turn from me every false way, 
 and grant me thy statutes.' 
 8 
 
82 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 However, Jacob was not enabled to conduct himself 
 under these circumstances, on approaching his brother, 
 in a manner consistent with the promises he had re- 
 ceived. By the Lord's wise permission, a dreadful 
 fear of his enraged brother takes possession of his soul, 
 and under its influence he acts, in some respects, too 
 much like a natural man ; but in others, in an exem- 
 plary manner. The feeling of fear was not only pain- 
 ful in itself, but one might have supposed it could not 
 have seized such a man as Jacob. Doubtless he him- 
 self regarded it as something unbecoming, improper, 
 and even absurd, and for which there was no cause, and 
 by giving way to which he might act derogatorily to 
 the faithfulness, power, and promise of the Lord. But 
 these considerations were insufficient to tranquilize 
 him ; his reason looked too much at that which was 
 seen, and too little at that which is invisible too much 
 upon Esau, too little upon God ; and he could not divest 
 himself of it. And what was the result ? a struggle, 
 and the desire that the Son would make him free. 
 Until he obtained this, he acted with too much human 
 prudence. Hence his humble message to his brother. 
 Hence his submissive and excessive courteousness, in 
 commanding Esau to be always called his Lord, but 
 himself his servant ; hence the prudent division of his 
 family and his flocks into two parts, in order to save at 
 least one of them ; hence the placing the present in- 
 tended for him in the first rank, and the instructing all 
 his domestics to address Esau in a highly complimenta- 
 ry manner. He did everything to rid himself of his 
 fear, and yet it is said, Jacob was greatly afraid and 
 
SERMON V. 83 
 
 distressed.' And certainly, it was not for him to deliver 
 himself from it ; this honor belongs to the Son of God 
 alone. Jacob's anxiety was doubtless rendered still 
 more painful by the reproaches of his enlightened un- 
 derstanding on account of it, which prescribed an en- 
 tirely different line of conduct to him, and a deport- 
 ment consistent with the many proofs of Divine favor 
 which he had received, and which were similar to 
 those expressed by David in Psalm xci. : * Though a 
 thousand should fall at thy side, and ten thousand at 
 thy right hand, yet it shall not come nigh thee. Only 
 with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward 
 of the wicked. No evil shall befall thee, neither shall 
 any plague come nigh thy dwelling, for he hath 
 given his angels charge over thee to keep thee in all 
 thy ways.' How much had Jacob in his favor ! his 
 father's blessing, which God himself had confirmed ; 
 the remarkable vision of the heavenly ladder during his 
 flight ; and the glorious promise of the blessing, which 
 should extend itself to all nations through the medium 
 of his posterity. 
 
 The many temporal blessings which the Lord had be- 
 stowed upon him in such a visible manner, during his 
 residence with Laban ; the express command to return, 
 with the promise of protection ; the wonderful change 
 produced in Laban, who, notwithstanding his furious 
 rage, was not permitted to speak an unkind word to 
 him ; the meeting of a host of protecting angels at 
 Mahanaim ; and yet to be the subject of fear of such 
 great fear was evidently not right, was a proof that 
 Jacob did not yet possess a perfect faith ; that he had 
 
84 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 not apprehended this golden chain of promises as he 
 ought. There were promises enough, but not sufficient 
 faith. < He that feareth,' says John, 1 Ep. iv. 18, ' is 
 not made perfect in love. Fear hath torment ; but per- 
 fect love casteth out fear.' Perfect faith does not make 
 haste, nor does it flee, through fear. He that can say 
 with the Psalmist, c God is my refuge and strength' 
 can also say, ' Therefore will we not fear, though the 
 earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried 
 into the midst of the sea.' But Jacob had not yet at- 
 tained this standing ; we must beware, however, of 
 supposing that perhaps only a single saint in a century 
 attains to it, and that it cannot be attained by others 
 because we ourselves have not yet arrived at it. . For 
 such thoughts are base, derogatory to God and his 
 grace, and resting-places for the flesh. 
 
 Jacob was conscious that his faith was not in accord- 
 ance with the promise. All his prudent measures were 
 unable in the smallest degree to expel his fear, which 
 laughed, like Job's leviathan, at the shaking of the 
 spear. All his endeavors to compose and tranquilize 
 his mind were fruitless, and only increased his fear and 
 disturbance, instead of lessening it. O happy failure of 
 his own, self-potent striving to help and amend himself ! 
 Happy is he whose own strength, wisdom, and right- 
 eousness is dislocated in the struggle, and who has no 
 other alternative than to cast himself entirely into the 
 arms of Jesus ! 
 
 Thus it fared with Jacob. His distressing condition 
 outwardly, and his still greater inward distress, which 
 he was unable of himself to remove, compelled him to 
 
RF.RMON V. 85 
 
 have wourse to the Lord by prayer; in which he un- 
 folds the state of his mind, and candidly confesses that 
 he was afraid of his brother Esau. At the same time 
 he intreats a superior communication of grace. Per- 
 haps it was more in the manner of groanings which can- 
 not be uttered, than of clearly experienced and plainly 
 expressed requests a moaning of the new creature 
 which airain.xt its will lay in bondage to vanity after 
 the glorious liberty of the children of God ; a longing 
 alter something better, of which he could not himself 
 form any clear conception. 
 
 But He who searcheth the heart, well knew what 
 was the mind of the Spirit. He himself had implanted 
 in him this superior hunger after righteousness, and 
 produced this urgency of spirit in him. Even as the 
 hart panteth after the water-brooks, so his soul panted 
 after God. His soul thirsted for God, for the living God, 
 that he might come and appear before God, to see his 
 power and his glory, so as he had seen it in the sanctu- 
 ary. His heart would have been delighted to have 
 been able to praise the Lord with joyful lips. He 
 sought retirement He prayed and wept, as Hosea 
 says ; he could not properly say what he required ; it 
 was not merely fear, but also its peculiar source, of 
 which he wished to be divested. His heart, not yet 
 established in perfect faith, and still unable properly to 
 apprehend God in his promises, travailed, as it were, in 
 the spiritual birth as the Savior says by which 
 something new was to be produced in the soul. 
 
 But it was only after the Lord had laid hold of him 
 in such a manner, that his travail really commenced. 
 8* 
 
86 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 The Lord himself struggled with him. His sin and im- 
 worthiness was deeply unfolded to him ; but at the 
 same time his cleaving to the Lord, and his craving for 
 a blessing, became so urgent that he could not refrain, 
 whatever might be the result. Although in the most 
 wretched plight, and deprived of all strength, he still 
 exclaimed, " I will not let thee go, except thou bless 
 me 1 I cannot possibly let thee go without it; I will and 
 must have a special blessing." 
 
 The Lord was also willing to impart it, and he there- 
 fore prepared him for it, by depriving him of every 
 other support, that the Lord himself might be his rod 
 and his staff. He divested him of all strength, that he 
 might find it in the Son of God alone. It was necessa- 
 ry that he should feel the impossibility of expelling 
 fear, notwithstanding the Divine promise which had 
 been given, and likewise that he might seek and ex- 
 pect the changing pf his heart, the pacifying of his soul, 
 and everything else from the Lord alone. He decreas- 
 ed, and Christ increased ; he became little and no- 
 thing, that the Lord might be great, might be all ; thus 
 on his dying-bed he was able to confess and say, ( He 
 hath redeemed me from all evil,' and not I myself; 
 even as he expressed his whole inward state in the 
 words, ' O Lord, I wait for thy salvation !' 
 
 In a similar manner the Lord has acted towards 
 others, to whom he intended to manifest his glory more 
 folly. Take, for example, the disciples. The Lord 
 had still much to say to them, but they could not then 
 bear it, they were not able to apprehend it. It would 
 have appeared irrational to them; they could not 
 have received it ; the Savior therefore, was wisely si- 
 
SERMON V. 87 
 
 lent, and had patience, until the Spirit should come and 
 lead them into all truth. But what took place in their 
 souls before this more glorious manifestation of Christ 1 
 The Lord himself hints at it in John xvi. 21, where he 
 says, ' A woman, when she is in travail, hath sorrow, be- 
 cause her hour is come ; but as soon as she is delivered 
 of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for 
 joy that a man is born into the world. And ye now, 
 therefore, have sorrow ; but I will see you again, and 
 your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from 
 you.' And Paul says to the Galatians, * My little 
 children, of whom I travail in birth again, until Christ 
 be formed in you.' The disciples, in consequence of 
 the sufferings of Jesus, were themselves plunged into 
 profound and unwonted suffering. The entire edifice of 
 their hopes was overthrown, and nothing remained but 
 the foundation which God himself had laid in them. 
 But the other foundation of sinful nature also manifest- 
 ed itself in them, in a manner they could not have be- 
 lieved. They had long indeed regarded themselves as 
 sinners ; but at the same time, as far better men than 
 they were now obliged to acknowledge. They were 
 offended at Jesus, who had, nevertheless, pronounced 
 him blessed who should not be offended in him ; they 
 were offended at Jesus, although they had regarded it as 
 impossible; and therefore pertinaciously contradicted 
 him, when he told them beforehand, that such would be 
 the case. " That will never happen," answered they, 
 " we are too much devoted to thee." But when put to 
 the test, they all forsook him', and endeavored to keep it 
 a secret that they had ever been his disciples ; they 
 
00 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 were afraid of their Esau-brethen, and apprehensive lest 
 their mother's children should smite them ; nay, they 
 even began to consider their hope, that Jesus would de- 
 liver Israel, as groundless, and to suppose that the Jews 
 had succeeded in their devices against him to an ex- 
 tent he had not anticipated. 
 
 All this took place in their old man, in their natural 
 heart and understanding. But what was the new man 
 doing meanwhile ? It mourned and wept, as Jesus 
 had predicted ; it travailed in birth, but there was no 
 strength to bring forth. It would gladly have elevated 
 itself to a higher degree of faith ; but both the requisite 
 power and light were wanting for this purpose. They 
 mourned and wept in the distress and anxiety of their 
 hearts, and were like a ship upon the stormy sea, 
 tossed hither and thither by the waves, without an an- 
 chor, and without any harbor in sight. There was an 
 end to the cause of Jesus, and to them along with it. 
 A man wrestled with them, to drive them from the 
 spot, and to confuse them with respect to God, to Jesus, 
 to the kingdom of God, to all the promises, and to 
 themselves. The Bridegroom was taken away from 
 them, and the time to fast had arrived. But what fol- 
 lowed? A superior manifestation of the glory of 
 Christ; a view which they had not previously pos- 
 sessed ; a faith, of which they were before ignorant ; 
 a knowledge of the Scriptures, of which they had till 
 then been deficient ; a humility and a confidence, a 
 resignation and a wisdom, to which they had before 
 been utter strangers. 
 
 ' I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction,' says 
 
SERMON V. 89 
 
 the Lord, by the prophet (Isa. xlviii. 10.) He who 
 desires to be raised with Christ, must first be taken 
 captive with him in the garden of Gethsemane ; bound 
 round about with grief, so that he cannot move, that he 
 may be absolved before a Divine and human tribunal ; 
 be condemned by the law and his conscience, that he 
 may be pronounced righteous; and be crucified and 
 slain, in order that he may live unto God. True felicity 
 does not consist in words, but in the fruits of repent- 
 ance and faith ; in the essential experience both of sin 
 and faith ; of self and the living God. Such is also the 
 experience of all those Christians who are predesti- 
 nated and called to become conformed to the Son of 
 God. After they have passed through the first stage of 
 repentance after entering through the narrow gate 
 into the kingdom of God after being joyfiilly assured 
 of the forgiveness of sins, and believing in Christ and 
 his grace much is given them to enjoy. The Bride- 
 groom is with the children of the bride chamber; 
 therefore how can they mourn ? A beautiful robe is 
 put upon them, and shoes on their feet ; a feast is pre- 
 pared, and singing and dancing are heard. Their as- 
 surance of their state of grace is firm ; their joy is heart- 
 felt ; and they say to others also, ' Come hither, ye 
 that seek God ; J they feel a power which induces them 
 to use the confident language of Paul, ( In all these 
 things we are more than conquerors, through him that 
 hath loved us ;' a courage which shuns no reproach of 
 the world, no suffering, no death, no devil ; a heavenly- 
 mindedness, which feels a disgust at all that is vain ; a 
 relish for reading the Scriptures, that induces them to 
 break off many an hour even from sleep ; a delight in 
 
90 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 prayer, so that hours fly like moments, and they leaVe 
 it with regret ; a communication of grace, which their 
 mortal tabernacle is scarcely able to endure ; a readi- 
 ness to suffer, which makes them willing to beg their 
 bread, and to give all they have to the poor ; a disgust 
 at sin, which borders upon indignation ; a facility in 
 every good work, which causes them heartily to recom- 
 mend the yoke of Christ as easy and his burden as light. 
 O how happy do they then feel ! They think they 
 must tell it to every one, that others may also set out 
 in quest of such a felicity ; they desire that all should 
 possess it, and even torment the still unconverted mem- 
 bers of their households with unceasing persuasions to 
 be converted : just as if it were the work of man ; and 
 they exclaim, ' Ho, all the world, come hither ! here 
 ye may see that God is gracious without any merit of 
 your own !' If experienced Christians put in a word, and 
 tell them that a change will take place with them, they 
 ca*nnot believe it. But how should they fast, as long as 
 the Bridegroom is with them ? Rather call unto them, 
 and say, ' Rejoice, thy King cometh !' The Lord, by 
 his only-begotten Son, has caused their mountain to 
 stand strong. They say, We shall never be afraid ; but 
 when He hides his face they are troubled. This is, as 
 it were, the welcome on entering the kingdom of God. 
 Like the children of Israel, after their departure from 
 Egypt, and their passage through the Red Sea, they 
 come to Elim, with its twelve fountains of water, and 
 its seventy palm trees, and encamp there. But from 
 thence the whole congregation removes into the desert, 
 which leads them to Sinai (Exod. xvi.) The refresh- 
 ing seasons decline, and often intermit with times of 
 
SERMON V. 91 
 
 great barrenness. The individual at one time feels 
 great strength, and finds himself at another in the most 
 deplorable impotency. At one time he possesses great 
 courage, and at another the same degree of timidity ; 
 at one time he can call Jesus his, and at another not ; 
 at one time he feels himself very able to make a sacred 
 surrender of himself, and at another by no means dis- 
 posed for it. He at length becomes extremely weary 
 of this continual vicissitude, and inquires if it be im- 
 possible for the heart to be established ; if only a Paul 
 could say, ' I know iri whom I have believed,' and am 
 persuaded and assured; if that faith be unattainable 
 which the Apostle describes as the * substance of tilings 
 hoped for, the evidence of things not seen ;' if we 
 ought not in the present day, according to the rule laid 
 down by the Apostle John, to believe the love which 
 God has towards us in Christ, and experience that fear 
 is not in love, and must be expelled by the latter ; and 
 if we may have boldness even in the day of judgment : 
 and then he asks, " Shall I only be unable to attain to 
 it, seeing that with God nothing is impossible, although 
 in myself I am incompetent to any thing that is good, 
 and inclined to all that is evil ? Is that state of grace, 
 described by the Apostle, no longer attainable in the 
 present day, in which the individual is free from an 
 evil conscience, and is able to come boldly to a throne 
 of grace; and where he speaks of a rest in God, and 
 a cleaving to the Lord, by means of which we become 
 one Spirit with him ?" In short, he is compelled to 
 believe that -there is something higher, more glorious, 
 and blissful in religion, than what he, or even others, 
 have yet experienced ; and he feels within him an ar- 
 
92 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 dent longing after this substantial and permanent state, 
 although he sees and acknowledges himself unworthy 
 of it ; although it rests with the Lord's free grace 
 whether he be pleased to lead him out of his present 
 straitened and contracted position into greater liberty ; 
 and he counts those elect souls particularly happy, who 
 through grace have attained to it ; from whence he 
 learns to believe, that the most honor is frequently put 
 upon those members which are thought to be less honor- 
 able, and that no one has reason to despair on account 
 of his un worthiness, because the reward is not of works, 
 but of grace. 
 
 Those souls, which in an especial manner hunger and 
 thirst after righteousness, and to whom the promise is 
 given that they shall be satisfied, experience a disgust, a 
 certain dissatisfaction with their former standing in god- 
 liness ; and in all their good exercises, they feel much 
 poverty, and can no longer continue them in their cus- 
 tpmary manner ; they see too clearly the self-love and 
 self-righteousness which intermingle themselves in 
 every thing ; they detest their own working, although 
 they cannot yet give it up ; they also perceive that 
 pleasing feelings do not constitute the essential part of 
 religion. They languish until the Son makes them 
 truly free, till salvation shall come upon Israel out of 
 Zion, and the Lord deliver his captive people. The man 
 here obtains a much deeper insight into the corruption 
 and depravity of his own heart, into that dreadful self- 
 love and self-righteousness which pervades us, into the 
 amazing unbelief in which we are immersed, and is 
 compelled to consider all that proceeds from himself as 
 a mere hindrance. The case is now the same with him 
 
SERMON V. 
 
 93 
 
 as with Jacob, when his hip was out of joint, and when 
 he was thus deprived of all ability to stand and to contin- 
 ue the combat ; so that only the choice was left him eith- 
 er to fall helpless into the hands of his infuriated brother, 
 or to cast himself upon the neck of his opponent. No- 
 thing now remains for him but to place his hope and con- 
 fidence entirely upon the Lord, and to say with Jacob, 
 * I will not let thee go, except thou bless me bless me 
 with a superior light than has hitherto shone upon me, 
 by which I may duly view thee, my Savior, as elevated 
 upon the cross, with a stedfast peace, which shall keep 
 my heart and mind in Christ Jesus instead of the constant 
 mental disturbance I have hitherto experienced : with a 
 complete faith, which receives out of thy fulness grace 
 upon grace, and abides in thee as the,branch in the vine ; 
 which affords an entire and constant assent to the work - 
 of redemption, and perseveres in it, so that I have a sure 
 rnniklence that thou wilt bless me with such a real fel- 
 lowship and intercourse with thee, as to enable me to pray 
 without ceasing, offer thanks unto thee, and thus glorify 
 thee." 
 
 Such is Jacob's prayer, 6 1 will not let thee go,' a 
 prayer to be used not only in the beginning, but also in 
 the progress of the life of grace. Happy is he who em- 
 ploys it in both cases, and to whom light rises in darkness ! 
 
 May the Lord bestow his blessing upon us all ; begin 
 his work in those souls where it is not yet commenced ; 
 and where it is already begun, carry it on until the 
 dawning of the perfect day. May complete knowledge 
 and faith, a perfect cure and perfect love, be, by grace, 
 the lot of all of us ! Amen. 
 9 
 
SERMON VI. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 27. 
 
 And he said unto him, What is thy name? And he said, 
 Jacob. 
 
 JACOB had assured the Lord, that he would not let him 
 go, without first receiving his blessing ; and, in the 
 words of our text, we find the preparation for the re- 
 ception of that which he desired. The Lord's sole in- 
 tention was to impart to the Patriarch a superior bless- 
 ing to anything he had previously enjoyed. But ob- 
 serve what a singular way he takes for this purpose. 
 It seems as if he intended his entire ruin nay, it not 
 only seems so, but is so in reality. Jacob is driven 
 more and more into straits. He is afraid of Esau, and 
 the promises he has received, no longer serve to tran- 
 quilize his mind. In this way, many an. individual 
 miscalculates, upon whom the promises are 'impressed 
 in a particularly lively manner. He looks upon them 
 as a capital, upon which he can draw in the season of 
 distress, and carefully notes them down, in order to re- 
 fresh and encourage himself with them when he re- 
 quires it. But the manna thus laid up, refuses to per- 
 form its office. The word, indeed, continues the same ; 
 but, as the Spirit is not with it, it produces no more 
 effect than in the case of Jacob, who was afraid not- 
 withstanding ; and this is likewise productive of good. 
 
SERMON VI. 95 
 
 In the most pitiable situation, and whilst hanging on 
 the neck of his opponent, his desire for a superior bless- 
 ing is increased ; and it is then suggested to him, to let 
 <'o, who can alone bestow it. Thus it may also 
 seem, as if Jesus did not trouble himself about the grief 
 of soul which the individual experiences, and it si-cm.- 
 as if he would be suffered to remain in it. But the 
 Lord's intention is to make the man thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the real source from whence every bless- 
 ing flows, deeply to convince him of the insufficiency 
 of all self amendment, and to heal him of it. 
 
 Jacob now implores a blessing, but he does not re- 
 ceive it instantaneously ; for the Lord enters into a con- 
 tion with him, which causes delay. Pious souls 
 lui 1-4 also be satisfied to wait in like manner. They 
 easily suppose, that when they have prayed once or a 
 few times, with earnestness and fervor, for some parti- 
 mi ar blessing, it must immediately be bestowed, or 
 -ls- they become apprehensive that their prayer is not 
 of the right kind, and their state of grace uncertain. 
 But, friend, though thou knowest it not, thou art per- 
 haps not yet poor not yet humbled enough. Look at 
 Jacob ! When does he conquer? When is he bh M f . 
 Only when his hip is dislocated, and no more strength 
 is left him. Probably the Lord intends by it * that thou 
 mayest remember, and be confounded, and never open 
 thy mouth any more, because of thy shame, when he 
 is pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done.' 
 Thou must, therefore, force thyself to be content, 
 whether thou wilt or not. 
 
 ' And he said unto him. What is thy name ?' Who 
 
96 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 was it that asked the question ? It is remarkable, that 
 in 1 Kings xviiL 31, it is said, that ' the word of the 
 Lord' uttered this. We call this remarkable, because 
 John, as is well known, calls the Son of God, our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, by this appellation. We are, however, 
 already acquainted with the inquirer. 
 
 He asks the name of the Patriarch not from igno- 
 rance, as if he knew not his name, since he had known 
 and loved him from everlasting, and by his providence 
 had so arranged it, that this name should be given him ; 
 and he put the question for Jacob's sake, in order to 
 instruct him respecting the signification of his name, 
 and to induce him to reflect upon the occasion of its be- 
 ing given him ; which was, that at his birth, he held 
 his twin brother Esau by the heel. His birth reminded 
 him of the word of the Lord, which hr.d been spoken 
 to his mother ' The elder shall serve the younger ;' 
 which Rebecca had certainly not concealed from him, 
 but had probably made the chief inducement for him to 
 consent to the surreptitious mode of obtaining the bless- 
 ing in preference to his brother Esau. But if Jacob 
 had forgotten, the Lord was not unmindful of it ; if 
 Jacob could not cleave firmly to it, the Lord held him- 
 self bound by it : ' For the mountains may depart, and 
 the hills be removed ; but my kindness shall not depart 
 from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be 
 removed.' 
 
 The Patriarch was to derive encouragement also 
 from the signification of his name. It means a sup- 
 planter. Hence his brother said of him, after he had 
 deprived him of his father's blessing, f Is not he rightly 
 
SEKMON VI. 97 
 
 named Jacob, for he hath supplanted me these two 
 times. He took away my birthright, and behold now 
 he hath taken away my blessing.' (Gen. xxvii. 36.) 
 This name ought therefore to have imparted courage 
 and confidence to the Patriarch, that Esau would not 
 overcome him. But when we are in difficulties and 
 darkness, what do we think of? Chiefly of that only 
 which is calculated to increase them the law and its 
 threateiiings ; and if we call the promises to mind, they 
 take no effect, however sweet they may have been to 
 us. 
 
 Jacob might also think thus with himself: " How 
 canst thou derive encouragement from thy name, which 
 chance and human choice has given thee ? If God 
 himself had ordered thee to be called so, the case would 
 have been different." Thus many act also with the 
 promises. They think that they only accidentally oc- 
 cur to them ; that they have read or heard them some- 
 where, or learnt them by heart. But it would be 
 strange, and at the same time a loss to the diligent read- 
 ers of the Scriptures, if they were not at liberty to de- 
 benefit from those promises, with which the\ 
 already acquainted. David acted otherwise. He 
 pleaded the Lord's word with him, and then expected, 
 in a prayerful frame, its fulfilment. But why should 
 promises be suggested to us, if we are not enabled, at 
 the same time, duly to act upon them ? 
 
 Jacob perhaps also thought, " Why this question ? I 
 ask for a blessing, and he inquires my name. I should 
 have preferred no such delay, but the immediate fulfil- 
 ment of the desire of my heart !" But he was never- 
 9* 
 
THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 theless obliged to consent to it. God does all things 
 well in due time, and this must be waited for, however 
 inconvenient it may be. Mary said, ' They have no 
 wine;' and received for answer, 'My hour is not yet 
 come.' Strange arrangements are then made ; wine is 
 wanted, and large vessels are filled with water ; but in 
 the end, wine is furnished of the best quality. It often 
 goes to great lengths, before a very favorable result. 
 The sick daughter of Jairus dies before Jesus affords his 
 aid. Lazarus not only dies but putrefies, before it is 
 manifest that his sickness was not unto death. The in- 
 dividual imagines that his help is arrived, and begins 
 to sing hymns of praise ; but whilst supposing that the 
 path will now lead to the right, his guide turns to the 
 left, until he at length learns to let himself be led, 
 without seeing before him, or caring whether the pillar 
 of cloud and of fire goes forward or rests. 
 
 * What is thy name ?' Was the Lord ignorant of it ? 
 and if not, why did he ask, and appear as if he knew 
 it not ? We may well ask, " Why does the Lord often 
 seem to renounce his own attributes, and suffer us to 
 pray and cry as though he heard us not ; even as the 
 Syrophoenician woman cried long before a sound was 
 given her in reply ? But how does this agree with his 
 promise in Psalm i. 15 : f Call upon me in the day of 
 trouble ; I will deliver thee.' And that in Isaiah Ixv. 
 24 ; ' Before they call I will answer.' If he is so full 
 of mercy and compassion, why does he exercise many 
 with the severest sufferings, and heed neither cries nor 
 tears ? If his ability is so great and his strength so in- 
 exhaustible, why does his church still find reason to 
 
SERMON VI. 99 
 
 ( 'omplain : 'O thou, the hope of Israel, the Savior there- 
 of in time of trouble, why. art thou as a stranger in the 
 laud, and as one that tarrieth but for a night 1. Why 
 art thou as a man astonished, and as a strong man that 
 cannot help ? Yet thou, Lord, art in the midst of us 
 and thy name is invoked by us.' (Jer. xiv. 8, 9.) 
 David prays, ' Look upon my affliction,' as if the Lord 
 did not sympathize in it. The being placed in such 
 circumstances may well occasion grievous pain, and yet 
 they are certainly not without excellent fruit, though it 
 be sown in tears. Although the Lord may act as a 
 stranger for a time, yet we must not let this surprise 
 us ; for he has the best intentions towards us. 
 
 ' My name is Jacob,' answered the Patriarch, in the 
 simplicity of his heart. How simple and childlike may 
 we converse with Jesus Christ, our Lord and Friend ; 
 particularly under the New Testament dispensation, in 
 which, not a servile, but a filial spirit reigns, whereby 
 we cry, Abba, Father ! There is nothing that we are 
 not permitted to tell him and complain of; nor need 
 they be always matters of importance they may be 
 also trifling things, for a mother listens gladly to the 
 lisping of her children. How wisely we act, when we 
 apply to him under every circumstance, and say to him, 
 in few words or in many, " I am at a loss ; I need ad- 
 \ire; what shall I do ? how shall I act in the most 
 proper manner V This might well be called holding 
 . ninerse with the Lord; habituating ourselves to him. 
 
 * My name is Jacob.' If the Lord knew the name of 
 Cyrus, the heathen king, and named him a century 
 and a half before his birth, how much more may we 
 
100 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 believe that he knows his children according to their 
 names, residences, situation, necessities, and circum- 
 stances. If he has numbered the hairs of their heads, 
 shall he leave more important matters unnoticed ? 
 
 When Jacob told him his name, a new light proba- 
 bly rose upon it, that rendered its signification clear to 
 him in a pleasing manner, and strengthened his faith. 
 For it often requires only a little word to shed light and 
 peace in the soul, and whole sermons may be heard, 
 whole volumes read, and yet the individual may con- 
 tinue unedified, as the Lord pleases. Many a one is 
 childish enough to think, ' If I had but heard this 
 sooner ; if it had only occurred to me sooner.' But 
 when the time arrives, the help we previously sought in 
 vain, comes also. Jacob now found an encouragement 
 in his name, which he had not perceived before ; and 
 thence saw likewise, that in our gloomy hours, every- 
 thing is hid from us, which might have encouraged, 
 and which was otherwise so clear as to be almost tan- 
 gible to us. We then foolishly imagine we shall never 
 doubt or despond again. But what have we left, when 
 he hides his face ? The lamp of our souls burns only as 
 long as the heavenly householder feeds it with oil. 
 We cannot ascribe anything to ourselves ; al] that is 
 good remains the Lord's property, over which he retains 
 the right of disposal. According to Heb. viii. 3, he is 
 a minister of the true sanctuary. No man can receive 
 anything, except it be given him from heaven. * So 
 God ascended from Jacob,' it is said in ch. xxxvi. 13, 
 and did not suffer himself to be detained. To this we 
 gradually accustom ourselves, and are only glad that 
 
SERMON VI. 101 
 
 the Lord is that he is, however much he may change ; 
 nay, in the end we perceive that we are in no respect 
 more, when adorned with his gifts, or less when he 
 withdraws them from us. 
 
 * My name is Jacob,' said the Patriarch. His parents 
 had given him this name at his circumcision, and what- 
 ever it might signify, it reminded him of the covenant 
 of grace, of which circumcision was the seal, and 
 the substance of which was the promise, ' I am thy 
 God.' In this respect, we enjoy the same privilege 
 with Jacob. The names which were given us at our 
 baptism, are to us this seal of the new covenant, which 
 rests upon far more excellent promises. An ambassador 
 in Christ's stead has naifted us, and sealed the new cov- 
 enant to us in the name of the Father, the Son and the 
 Holy Ghost. What more do we require or wish for ? 
 What bold claims we may found upon God even from 
 our names, since they remind us of the covenant which 
 God, for Christ's sake has established with us. We are 
 sinners it is true ; but it is also true, that Christ is will- 
 ling to wash us with his blood and Spirit from all our sinsj 
 and renew our natures after his image. But certainly it 
 is a great insult for a person to bear the name and yet dis- 
 regard the covenant. Happy is he whom God brings in- 
 to such straits, amd presses so closely, that he is glad to 
 take refuge in the covenant of grace, and seek the real 
 communication of the glorious blessings which are pro- 
 mised him by it. Lo ! God is willing to be thy Father, 
 and thou shalt be his child. All that the Son of God 
 has purchased by his sufferings and death, shall be thy 
 own. The Holy Spirit shall be thy teacher and comfort- 
 
102 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 er. How is it possible, therefore, that thy salvation 
 should not be perfect, since the sacred Trinity itself has 
 undertaken its accomplishment? Be ashamed of thy 
 unbelief. 
 
 Jacob doubtless also felt a sacred confusion, when 
 reflecting on the uncommon condescension of God, in 
 entering into such a glorious alliance with such a worm, 
 in which he in reality requires nothing, although the 
 contrary may seem to be the case and is willing to 
 to give everything ; and when he says, ' Walk before 
 me and be thou perfect, he first directs the eye of faith 
 to himself as the all sufficient God. He is willing to 
 care for us, to cleanse us from our sins, and to instruct 
 and comfort us. We therefore need only keep our 
 minds in a tranquil frame ; and even if we are incapable 
 of doing so, he will also bestow this upon us. We are 
 encouraged to cast all our care upon him, and if we can- 
 not rid ourselves of care, we are permitted to inquire and 
 say, f How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having 
 sorrow in my heart daily ? How long shall my enemy be 
 exalted over me I 9 (Psalm xiii. 2.\ ' Ask of me,' says 
 the Lord, ' and I will give thee the heathen for an in- 
 heritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for a 
 possession.' (Psalm ii. 8.) What a gracious alliance is 
 this, in which everything is promised ! Well may it be 
 said, ' I am not worthy of all the. mercy and the faithful- 
 ness thou hast manifested towards me.' Who does not 
 feel a desire to enter into such a precious covenant, in 
 which it is said, ( Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the 
 kingdom of heaven ! Blessed are they that do hunger 
 and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled ; 
 and in which only the rich and those that are full have 
 
vi. 103 
 
 no part. When this is duly perceived, it. plunges us 
 into the sweetest confusion, and excites a gratitude of a 
 very peculiar kind. ' For I saw thee lying in thy 
 blood, and said unto thee, Live !' Wonderful mercy ! 
 
 Jacob felt also a sacred confusion at his timidity. 
 " What," he would think, " if God be for us, who can 
 be against us ! If Esau had four thousand men instead 
 of four hundred, what could he do to me 1 God him- 
 self has been unable to prevail against me, because his 
 omnipotence could not act otherwise than in accord- 
 ance with his promise, * I will do thee good.' " 0," 
 he would think, " how little do I know him how little 
 do I still apprehend of him ! What am I without his 
 light, but darkness itself without his grace, but weak- 
 ness itself? And what am I in him 1 I have all and 
 enough !" How he would finally feel,, when he reflect- 
 ed and thought, " who gave me courage for the con- 
 flict, and strength to persevere ?" How wise was the 
 whole mode of treatment ! Truly he might well call 
 the place a Peniel. And humble souls still experiri no- 
 things of a similar nature. 
 
 "My name is Jacob," said the Patriarch. And 
 what are we called? Our names are, in some re- 
 spects, very disgraceful, and in others very consolatory 
 and even glorious. 
 
 Our names sound very disgraceful ; and because they 
 are given us by the true and faithful word, we cannot 
 deny their correctness, without making the true God a 
 liar ; and what a horrible sin would that be ? But 
 what are we called ? Oh, we might adduce a long 
 catalogue of such evil names : we are reproved, as be- 
 
104 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 ing unrighteous sinners, ungodly backsliders, and diso- 
 bedient ; and many other such evil titles are applied 
 to us. 
 
 What shall we do in this case 1 Deny them ? This 
 would be only rendering them still more heinous. 
 Caring not for them will also not avail; for those 
 names carry all of them their sentence along with them. 
 We ought not to be indifferent to them, but they ought 
 to produce in us a troubled spirit, and to render us hum- 
 ble and contrite in heart ; until we are induced to con- 
 fess our transgressions to the Lord, justify him in oppo- 
 sition to ourselves, and confess that we are what these 
 names indicate, and nothing else. He is then faithful, 
 and will strengthen us, and preserve us from the evil 
 one. But ah ! how much is requisite before we attain 
 to this. How many attempts are usually made, in order 
 that we may deserve the appellation of pious, and what 
 distress and sorrow it occasions when we do not suc- 
 ceed ! We strive to rid ourselves of our sins by pray- 
 ing, struggling, and distressing ourselves. And such 
 attempts are the more useful, the more earnest they 
 are ; for by them the individual learns to know himself 
 the more thoroughly, to seek his salvation in Christ the 
 more exclusively, and to believe, with the greater con- 
 fidence on him who justifies the ungodly. But certain 
 it is, that if we wish to understand the name of Jesus, 
 we can do so in no other manner than by previously 
 becoming well acquainted with our own name of " Sin- 
 ner." The more fully we assent to the latter, the more 
 inestimable will the name of Jesus be to us, who alone 
 can save the sinner. 
 
SERMON VI. 105 
 
 When this name has once become truly precious to 
 us, the consolatory names which are applied to us will 
 also refresh us. And which are they ? The name of 
 sinner stands foremost here also, as a very consolatory 
 appellation. But in what respect? If God himself 
 calls us by this name, he 'proves by it that he expects 
 nothing -else from us, as of ourselves, but what is in ac- 
 cordance with this name, and thereby encourages us to 
 present ourselves before him in our poverty and naked- 
 ness. And what promises are connected with it! so 
 that in reality I need be nothing but a sinner to appro- 
 priate to myself the most glorious things ; for. the name 
 of Jesus stands opposite to it, with the promise to save 
 such characters ; and this is a faithful saying. When 
 tliis become apparent to the troubled mind, that which 
 previously distressed it, will impart courage to it, and it 
 will find in Jesus all that is. sought for in vain in itself. 
 If he saves sinners, they will certainly be saved, or else 
 Jesus is no perfect Savior. The more, therefore, a per- 
 son feels and knows himself to be a sinner, the greater 
 confidence may he have that Jesus will save him from 
 all his sin and misery. 
 
 How consolatory, in a certain sense, is the appella- 
 tion of ungodly for God pronounces them justified ; of 
 ' lost for Jesus seeks such characters ; of needy for 
 he will supply all their need ; of afflictedfor he will 
 comfo.rt them ; of captives for he liberates them. In 
 short, if we can only apprehend Jesus at the same time, 
 all these names will only serve to encourage us. If 
 Jesus therefore asks what we are called ; and we can 
 reply in simplicity/ and with, a full assent, that we are 
 10 - 
 
106 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 sinners : a lovely light will rise upon us, even as upon 
 Jacob, on mentioning his name. But if we resist, if 
 we seek to have a hand in saving ourselves, and 
 refuse to entrust ourselves solely to Jesus we shall 
 find nothing but wretchedness and sorrow of heart in 
 our way. But tne practice of this is not so easy as it 
 appears. Only make the attempt, and you will find it 
 to be so We are much too wise, proud, and righteous 
 in our own esteem, and many a stroke of the hammer of 
 the law is requisite, before the rock of our heart is broken 
 But those who, renouncing everything of their own, 
 seek everything in Jesus, bear at the same time more 
 glorious appellations, which are written in heaven. 
 One of the most excellent names which they bear, and 
 which comprises in it every other glory, and is perfect- 
 ly Scriptural, is that of Christians. We read that God 
 changed the names of Abraham and Sarah, by adding 
 to them a letter from his own name, Jehovah, by which 
 he received them into a degree of fellowship with his 
 glory. But by our being called Christians, we are 
 placed in fellowship and relationship with Christ ; and 
 this implies much. With respect to ourselves, we are 
 sinners ; but in Christ we are righteous before God : 
 in ourselves we are weak ; but united with Christ we 
 are strong and invincible : in us we are wretched ; in 
 Mm we are happy and glorified. But the mere ima- 
 gining the thing, is here of no avail it must be truth 
 and reality. What, therefore, is thy name ? But art 
 thou that which thou callest thyself ? If so, what 
 happiness is thine ! Christ must be dethroned, sooner 
 than anything evil can befall thee. If the Lord is thy 
 shepherd, thou shalt not want. Amen. 
 
SERMON VII. 
 
 ' No one is crowned, except he strive lawiully,' ob- 
 serves Paul, in. writing to Timothy (2 Ep. ii. 5.) This 
 he said in reference to the Grecian games. An indi- 
 vidual might have used the greatest efforts in striving : 
 yet if these were not in accordance with the rules and 
 laws of the conflict, he did not obtain the prize, howev- 
 er much he excelled in other respects. Such is also 
 the case in the spiritual course. Augustine says, 
 * Halting forward upon the right path brings us further 
 than running out of it ;' and this expresses, in other 
 words, the meaning of Paul. A person may strive 
 against that which is evil ; he may use great exertion ; 
 he may even seem to accomplish great things, and yet 
 all be in vain, because his efforts are not in accordance 
 with the rules of the spiritual conflict. * I fight,' says 
 the Apostle, * not as one that beateth the air/ by 
 which no man is wounded. 
 
 What should we expect to effect in natural things if 
 wi used improper weapons ; and endeavored, for in- 
 stance, to destroy bees with the sword ; which is effect- 
 ed only by smoke : or if we did not use our weapons in 
 a proper manner, and expected to wound our foes with 
 the hilt, instead of the blade of the sword ? It is cer- 
 tain, that in the spiritual conflict, persons frequently act 
 thus inconsistently, and therefore accomplish nothing in 
 
108 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 reality, even- when they appear to succeed, or else are 
 conscious that they do not really hit the enemy. And 
 are not the frequent complaints of the little which is 
 effected, and the slow progress which is -made in the 
 spiritual course, all of them proofs that those who thus 
 complain do not strive in a regular manner ? He that 
 does not, will not obtain the crown, as his own con- 
 science already tells him. The enemy will always re- 
 new the challenge, and mock at him. He will perceive 
 that there is some cursed thing in him, in whatever it 
 may consist, and hence he cannot stand against his foe. 
 And-this accursed thing is so deeply hidden, that the 
 man himself does not perceive it, until the Holy Spirit 
 reveals it to him, and shows him, at the same time, 
 wherein he is deficient, which is a great mercy, since it 
 is also connected with instruction how he ought to 
 fight, in order- to gain one victory after another, and to 
 go from strength to strength. When Jesus calls his 
 yoke easy and his burden light, every complaint of reli- 
 gion being a wearisome thing only proves that we do 
 not rightly understand the taking upon ourselves his 
 yoke. And yet many seem to think more highly of 
 complaints of religion, than of thankfulness; and of 
 anxi.ety, than of peace. We betake ourselves to the 
 conflict, without considering whether it is advisable with 
 ten thousand men to .oppose him who comes against us 
 with twenty thousand ; and whether it be not more 
 prudent, either to make peace with him, while he is 
 still afar off ; or, if that cannot be, to look about us be- 
 times for a powerful ally. Jehoshaphat acted thus. 
 4 In us,' said he, ' there is no strength ; for we know . 
 
SERMON VII. 109 
 
 not what we ought to do.' But instead of desponding- 
 ly complaining, he adds, * But our eyes look unto thee, 
 OLord!' 
 
 Let us consider our combatant Jacob, and see whether 
 we can learn of him how to strive aright. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 28. 
 
 And he said, Thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but 
 Israel ; for as a prince hast thou power with God and with 
 men, and hast prevailed. 
 
 WE recently considered the question put by the Lord, 
 * What is thy name ?' and the direct reply of the Pa- 
 triarch ; * and he said, Jacob.' The Lord now gives 
 him a new name, and says, * Thou shalt no longer be 
 called Jacob, but Israel, 5 and mentions the reason for 
 it ; * for as a prince hast thou power with God and 
 with men, and hast prevailed.' 
 
 By names, we indicate persons and things, in order 
 to distinguish them from others. If the thing becomes 
 changed, it also receives another name. Water when 
 frozen, we term ice, snow,*and hail ; when it falls from 
 heaven rain ; when it descends vat night upon the 
 plants dew ; and when it dissolves into small particles 
 mist. 
 
 Man, according to his age, receives the name of a 
 child, a youth, a man, and an old man. With refer- 
 ence to God and his kingdom, he is either a sinner, a 
 wicked man, or even a child of the devil and an enemy 
 of God ; or else he is an awakened person, a penitent, 
 a believer, a righteous man, a saint, a perfect man, a 
 10* 
 

112. THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 from the dross attached to it ; and thus he obtained a 
 new name. 
 
 ' Thy name shall be called no more Jacob.' Fear 
 shall never again take possession of thy heart in the 
 same degree, because thy soul will cleave to me, and 
 thus imbibe my vivifying and peaceful influences. Thou 
 shalt never more experience such great vicissitudes of 
 fear and hope, anxiety and joy ; thou shalt be more 
 perfect in me ! 
 
 People often miscalculate in their religious course. 
 If they have happily escaped from a gloomy vale, and 
 again rejoice in their state of grace ; if the mists of 
 doubt disappear before the lovely beams of the Sun of 
 Righteousness, they often think they have now attain- 
 ed, and believe that in future they will not be so timid. 
 But does not a degree of presumption lie in such an 
 idea, as if the individual could do this or that of him- 
 self ? and Jesus, who has said, ( Without me ye can do 
 nothing,' is too jealous of his honor, and of the main- 
 taining of his promises, of his Jesus-name, to endure 
 such presumption in his favorites. He will therefore 
 sit as a refiner, and ..purify the sons of Levi, even as 
 gold and silver is purified, until his gold attains the 
 purity he has intended. Perhaps he dislocates their 
 thigh, and brings them into such straits that they feel 
 incompetent to strive without Him, against a doubt, 
 whether great or small ; and are compelled to give 
 full assent to his assertion, that they can do nothing. 
 
 But what then ? ' Thy name shall no more be 
 called Jacob, but Israel ;' this is that magnificent title 
 which no one ever bore except Jacob. It means a 
 
SERMON VH. 113 
 
 prince of God! God makes a show of Jacob, as it 
 were, and boasts of him, because through him he had 
 accomplished so much. Thus. God acts also towards 
 his people, when he says, ' Fear not, thou worm Jacob ! 
 I will help thee. Thou shalt thresh the mountains, 
 and beat them small like chaff.' If a worm can 
 thresh mountains, it is only possible through God, who 
 receives all the honor of it. ' Thus Jesus boasts respect- 
 ing his sheep, " That they shall never perish, and no 
 one shall pluck them out of his hands." This excites 
 the world, together with the hosts of hell. The most 
 specious errors, the vilest temptations, fire, sword, mar- 
 tyrdom, imprisonment, and death, are called forth to 
 see whether defenceless sheep cannot be destroyed. 
 Whole hosts of wolves attack them ; and what do 
 they accomplish ? Nothing ; except that they prove 
 the faithfulness of Jesus, and increase his fame. And 
 here even God strives with a weak and sinful man, and 
 cannot overcome him ! ' In all these things we come 
 off more than conquerors, through Him that hath 
 loved us.' 
 
 'Thou shalt be. called Israel.' What are all the 
 titles, however high-sounding, which men may bear ? 
 They dissolve, at length, into smoke and vapor, of 
 which the age in which we live has furnished astonishing 
 proofs. In themselves they are no protection ; least of all 
 against the wrath of God, to whom that which is high- 
 ly esteemed amongst men is an abomination ; and who 
 chooses, by preference, that which is wenk, simple, des- 
 pised, and nothing, that he may confound that which is 
 wise, mighty, and noble ; yea, and things that are not, 
 
114 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 to bring to nought things that are ; that no flesh may 
 glory in his presence, and that the abundant power 
 may be of God, and not of us. What a foolish direction 
 is given to the ambitious feeling implanted in us by God, 
 when we seek honor from men, instead of that which 
 cometh from God ; when we seek earthly possessions, 
 and are not rich in God ! A bruised reed in the king- 
 dom of God, is more than those who are regarded in 
 the world as stately oaks ; and a glimmering taper in 
 the temple of Jesus Christ, more than burning torches 
 out of it. Esau far exceeded Jacob in earthly posses- 
 sions. He could take the field with four hundred men, 
 and his sons were princes. But God loved Jacob, and 
 not Esau. Of what avail, therefore, was all his supe- 
 riority ? Be "not deceived, for that is only valuable 
 which appears so in the eyes of God. 
 
 < Thou shalt be called Israel.' The Patriarch doubt- 
 less received this name with reference to the remarka- 
 ble individual whose progenitor he was to be, and in 
 whom all the nations of the earth should be blessed 
 Jesus Christ, to whom the name of ( Prince of God ' 
 peculiarly belongs. It is also said in Jer. xxx. 21, 
 ' Their prince shall be of themselves, and their gover- 
 nor shall proceed from the midst of them, and he shall 
 proceed from the midst of them, and he shall approach 
 unto me.' King, Prince of Life, Lord of Glory, are 
 his titles ; ' And upon his vesture and his thigh he has 
 a name written, King of Kings.' He indeed strove 
 with God, with men, and with devils, and overcame, 
 and has received a name which is above every name. 
 Without his conflict, all our wrestling would be lost 
 
SERMON VII. 115 
 
 labor ; but through him we come off more than con- 
 querors. 
 
 The wondrous man also adduces the reason why he 
 changed the name of Jacob into Israel ; ' For,' says he, 
 1 as a prince thou hast power with God and with men, 
 and hast prevailed.' The name Jacob supplanter was 
 also a very instructive and encouraging name ; but the 
 Patriarch, from want of light, had not found much 
 encouragement in it : hence the Lord gives him the 
 requisite instruction respecting his new name. ' In thy 
 light,' says the Psalmist, * we see light :' and prays, 
 ' Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous 
 things out of thy law.' We require the Holy Spirit to 
 guide us into all truth, not less than the disciples of the 
 Lord, who, nevertheless enjoyed his instruction. With- 
 out his light, ' We see men, at the best, only as trees 
 walking;' and therefore indistinctly and confusedly. 
 Hence Paul riot only taught, but prayed also, that the 
 Ephesians might comprehend the height, and breadth, 
 and depth, and length of the love of God. 
 
 God bears witness to Jacob that he had wrestled ; 
 and we have been spectators of the conflict. He had 
 engaged in the contest with all the energy outwardly 
 of his body, inwardly of his will. And thus it ought 
 to be. The slothful man dies over his wishes, and his 
 hands refuse to labor. Let such a one go to the ant 
 and learn of that little insect, if he cannot see it in 
 Jacob, how to exert all his strength, and employ every 
 means. Let him do his uttermost, and not lie down to 
 sleep too soon upon the pillow of human inability, 
 which he is acquainted with only from hearsay. Jacob 
 
116 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 would certainly not have received the new name, if he 
 had immediately fled, under the idea that he had no 
 power to resist. But he was compelled to struggle, 
 because his life was now at stake. How many are 
 there who take up the words of Jesus, and say, " We 
 can do nothing without him," without really believing 
 it, because they have never tried how far their awn 
 strength extends. Assuredly the Scripture does not 
 call upon us in vain to strive and fight, to fear and be 
 diligent, to work and do violence ; and these things are 
 equally as true, as that ' in quietness and confidence 
 shall be our strength.' ' I write unto you, young men, 
 because ye are strong, and the word of God abideth 
 in you ; -for ye have overcome the wicked one.' How- 
 ever, every thing has its time. What has been said, 
 has reference to the first station, if -I may so speak, 
 on the journey to Jerusalem ; 'Six days shalt thou la- 
 bor and do all thy work ; but on the seventh, the sab- 
 bath of the Lord, thou shalt rest.' 
 
 Such was Jacob's case. He wrestled and strove ; 
 but at length his struggling was at an end, since . his 
 thigh, the soundness of which was indispensable -to his 
 wrestling, was dislocated. There was now an end to 
 his striving, because he had no strength left. He .then 
 fell into the arms of his God ; and conquered then, and 
 not before ; he was blessed then, and not till then. 
 Fight therefore, man ! who desirest to be saved. 
 Fight with all thy might. Do not give- way a hair's 
 breadth. Watch, pray, read, and hear. For lo ! Esau 
 marches against thee with four hundred men ! With 
 four hundred men ! and Jacob was alone. Danger- 
 
SERMON VII. 117 
 
 ous situation ! For what assistance could he derive 
 from his wives, his children, or his shepherds ? He was 
 compelled to fight with men. To Mesopotamia he 
 dared not return ; for God would not have it. Pro- 
 ceed he could not. What fool-hardiness, to march out 
 alone, against four hundred men ! Therefore, weep, 
 and lament, and mourn, and despair !" Not so. He 
 believed in an Almighty and merciful God ; be believ- 
 ed in his promise, ' I -will do thee good.' However, 
 his faith was at that time not sufficiently strong to en- 
 able him to say, t Though a host should encamp against 
 me, I will not be afraid' or to think and say with 
 al iimess, "God, who enjoined Laban to speak no 
 otherwise than kindly to me, is still the same, and is 
 able and willing to turn the heart of Esau in such a 
 manner, that he shall be unable to act cruelly towards 
 me, seeing that God hath promised that in my descend- 
 ants all the nations of the earth shall be blessed." 
 Could he have acted thus, how glorious would it have 
 been ! But this was not in accordance with his pre- 
 vious state of grace. He was afraid, because his rea- 
 son still reflected too much, and looked more at the 
 things which are seen, than at those which are not 
 seen. But his faith was the victory which overcame 
 the world. This faith softened his heart, so that he 
 wept, as Hosea says; and much is already gained, 
 win -ii we acquire a contrite spirit, and when the hard 
 heart dissolves. His faith opened his mind and his 
 heart ; so that he was able to pray, as Hosea also in- 
 forms us. His faith took refuge with God. What ! 
 shall God work a miracle ? How miserable, to be 
 11 
 
118 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 only able to oppose prayer to four hundred armed men ! 
 Certainly this is not rational, but still it is of faith. And 
 to the believer are given all the promises of a living 
 God, who overrules all natural and accidental events 
 according to His good pleasure. 
 
 It was thus he wrestled with men, in the most pru- 
 dent manner, by taking God to his aid against them ; 
 for if God be for us, who can be against us ? And oh, 
 how evangelically wise we all act, when we commence 
 our spiritual conflict not in our own wisdom and 
 strength, but draw the Lord himself, by faith and 
 prayer, into the conflict; he will then fight for us, 
 whilst we shall hold our peace. If we go out to the 
 battle without God ; if we think that in our own wis- 
 dom and strength we are sufficiently equipped we 
 should act as foolishly, as if Jacob had believed that he 
 alone was able to face four hundred men ; and that 
 which we think we have accomplished, is only self-de- 
 ception. But with God, it might be all one to Jacob, 
 whether his brother came out against him with four 
 hundred or four thousand men. For he that without 
 Christ can do nothing, with him can do all things ; and 
 it is the same to the Lord, to help with many or with 
 few. 
 
 Thus Jacob wrestled, like a prince, against men. 
 He did not despair on account of the might and multi- 
 tude of those who were against him, and looked not at 
 his littleness and inability. Nor did he trust to the fra- 
 gile staff of his own strength, which indeed he was un- 
 able to do ; for it was broken. Reason showed him 
 nothing but ruin and death, and nature was afraid, but 
 
SERMON VI [. 119 
 
 laith helped him through. By its means, he honored 
 God as able to help, where there is no other aid ; and 
 although he did not understand by what means, yet he 
 left this with God's all comprehensive wisdom. He 
 said, " Wilt thou not do it, Lord ? I know no other 
 <ure, and can do nothing more, and see myself com- 
 pelled to resign myself to thee and thy good pleasure, 
 with all that are mine, and what thou hast otherwise 
 given me. Do with me, therefore, as seemeth thee 
 
 0-00(1." 
 
 Nature, indeed, trembles, when it feels compelled to 
 seek help of God, because it is no where else to be 
 found, and is more inclined to fear its total ruin, than to 
 expect help and deliverance. But the Holy Spirit here 
 turns the scale. He holds the soul fast, so that it de- 
 clares, ' I will not let thee go, except thou bless me !' 
 This is the real inward conflict and travailing in birth, 
 which the soul cries to God, out of the depth of 
 .stress, and then ascends on high when the time ar- 
 rives. This is in reality no trifle, and it may be said 
 with Solomon, * A wounded spirit, who can bear !' But 
 these are, at the same time, paths which terminate in the 
 desired end : ' The Lord hath done great things for 
 me, whereof I am glad.' 
 
 * Thou hast had power with men, and hast prevail- 
 ed,' said the Lord to Israel. He came off more easily 
 with Laban. He fled, and prudently took advantage 
 of the absence of his father-in-law, as the fittest mo- 
 ment for his flight. However, that he might not as- 
 cribe all the success to his prudence, Laban ascertained 
 his flight early enough to hasten after him. He did so, 
 
120 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 and took with him his brethren ; which however did 
 not betray the most friendly intentions .towards Jacob, 
 and overtook him on the seventh day. But God came 
 to Jacob's aid, by a dream, in which he turned the 
 heart of Laban in such a manner, that he was not per- 
 mitted to do him any harm, but only spoke harshly to 
 him ; and at length retired, after taking a friendly 
 leave. Jacob, in this instance, came off easily, and 
 with a slight degree of terror ; for God usually leads 
 his people step by step, and exercises those whom he 
 calls to severer conflicts, previously in easier ones. For 
 a period, they are able by their own strength and re- 
 flection to accomplish much ; but at length both go to 
 the bottom. Waves cover the little vessel, and the 
 cry is heard, ' Master, save ! we perish !' and then the 
 help is near at hand. 
 
 Such was also the case with Jacob. After the de- 
 parture of Laban, he was greatly comforted, and receiv- 
 ed a powerful invigoration to his faith ; for he was 
 met by the angels of God. This circumstance was 
 highly remarkable and encouraging ; and because the 
 art of writing was at that time not understood, he call- 
 ed the place where it happened, * Mahanaim,' the 
 Lord's host : for when he saw the angels of God, he 
 said, ' This is God's host.' This afterwards assisted 
 him in his conflict. If any one is delivered out of six 
 troubles, he cherishes the hope that in the seventh he 
 shall not be forsaken ; ( for experience worketh hope 
 and hope maketh not ashamed.' Christ said to Peter ; 
 ' Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, 
 and he shall presently give me more than twelve le- 
 
SERMON vn. 121 
 
 gions of angels V Thus Jacob saw that God could at 
 least send two hosts of angels to his aid. But when 
 he was in straits, all sensible supports gradually gave 
 way, and Jacob remained alone with God. 
 
 The affair with Esau was a much more serious one 
 than that with Laban. But defenceless Jacob did not 
 overcome even him by armor and weapons, not by 
 humble messages, not by presents, nor any other means 
 which his prudence might have dictated : but by his 
 humble, believing prayer, or rather by God himself. 
 God softened the heart of the infuriated Esau, who had 
 sworn his brother's death, "to such a degree, that when 
 he came in sight of his brother, he ran to meet him, 
 cordially embraced him, fell upon his neck, and wept. 
 But Jacob saw in his brother the face of God. He 
 perceived in his whole deportment the wonderful over- 
 ruling power of God, who had blessed him. He saw 
 with his eyes, in the most striking manner, that a man's 
 actions do not stand in his own power ; that he can 
 purpose saying something, and yet that it depends up- 
 on the Lord whether he is suffered to utter it. Jacob 
 ascribed nothing of it to himself, as the consequence of 
 his prudence ; nor could he indeed do so. He gave 
 God alone the glory, and saw in Esau's whole deport- 
 ment only the power and faithfulness of God ; he there- 
 fore bowed himself seven times to the earth, more be- 
 fore God than before his brother. Hence he called him 
 his lord, as he was in reality. For naturally Esau, with 
 his four hundred men, could have done with Jacob 
 what he pleased ; although in reality only as God 
 pleased. Thus, with his dislocated limb, through God's 
 11* 
 
122 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 help, he overpowered Esau with his four hundred 
 men. 
 
 But we will here break off. This is wrestling so as 
 to gain the victory : for faith is the victory that over- 
 cometh the world. This does not take place in our 
 own strength, nor to our own praise. God receives 
 all the glory. c No one is crowned, except he strive 
 lawfully.' See to it, how you will stand against four 
 hundred, or whether you are able to go forth with ten 
 thousand against him who comes towards you with 
 twenty thousand. But ' if the Son shall make you free, 
 then are ye free indeed.' 
 
SERMON VIII. 
 
 * Is there no balm in Gilead is there no physician 
 there V inquires the sorrowing prophet Jeremiah, chap. 
 viii. 32. He previously complains of the lamentable state 
 in which his people were placed a state which would 
 draw after it one still more lamentable. * Where is the 
 man,' he asks, ' who does not gladly rise again after his 
 fall ? and who, after going astray, would not gladty 
 return to the right path 1 But this people hold fast 
 deceit, and refuse to return V However much under- 
 standing men may have in natural things, they manifest 
 the very reverse in spiritual things. Even the birds of 
 the air, as he observes in verse 7, put men to shame in 
 this respect. At the same time they were haughty, and 
 said, ' We are wise, and the law of the Lord is with us V 
 which, however, they did not understand. Self-con- 
 ceited individuals refuse advice, and therefore cannot be 
 assisted. But must this wretched state of things continue ? 
 Is there no physician there ! Or if there is, is there any 
 want of medicine ? Oh no ! A physician is there. 
 He possesses all the requisite knowledge. He per- 
 fectly understands the method of cure. He is a faithful, 
 patient, gentle, and a kind physician. He knows the 
 nature and real seat of every disease ; knows whether 
 he ought to use the knife or the plaster; to cut, burn, 
 or heal. A physician therefore is there ; but is there 
 
124 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 a want of medicine is there no balm in Gilead 1 Oh 
 yes : this physician is at the same time the medicine ; 
 or if you will, his blood and Spirit is the balm. Was 
 he able formerly to heal every disease he can do so 
 still. Was he able, when on earth, to raise the dead 
 he does so still, as he has proved in the cases of many 
 of you, and doubtless will continue to do so. Many 
 amongst you are already healed ; but why not all ? 
 Some suppose they need no physician ; others do not 
 think their diseases sufficiently dangerous, and endea- 
 vor to heal themselves, by which the evil is made 
 worse ; others prescribe to the physician the method 
 in which they wish to be treated. Some do not under- 
 stand how to buy the balm ; and seek for money, al- 
 though it is to be had for nought. The majority will not 
 suffer themselves to be cjired of their own piety, and 
 even think the physician must promote it ; but they 
 are much mistaken : c He maketh sore and bindeth up ; 
 hewoundeth, and his hands make whole.' 
 
 GENESIS xxxii. 28. 
 
 For as a prince thou hast power with God and with men, and 
 hast prevailed. 
 
 WE lately considered how Jacob wrestled with God 
 and with men, and prevailed. Let us now contemplate 
 the manner of his struggling with God, and prevailing ; 
 and consider, 
 
SERMON VIII. 125 
 
 I. The conflict ; and 
 
 II. Its result. 
 
 4 Thou hast power with God,' said he who had wres- 
 tled the whole night with Jacob. Unequal conflict ! 
 God against -man ! Unheard of, incredible result ! The 
 man overcomes ! Jacob now learnt with whom he had 
 to do not with a foe, but with his best friend. How is 
 the soul astonished, when at the end of the darkest 
 paths, in which it was inclined to think that God had 
 in wrath forgotten to be merciful, and to say, * Is his 
 mercy clean gone for ever V it perceives in these very 
 paths the most striking condescension of the Lord, and 
 the greatest kindness in a guidance which seemed only 
 to aim at its destruction. Then indeed a wonderful 
 and glorious morning dawns. 
 
 He wrestled with God. God, therefore, seemed in 
 some respects not to be for him, but against him. 
 God seemed not to be for him ; for why was it other- 
 wise with him with regard to Esau, than it had been 
 with regard to Laban? Why did fear obtain such 
 possession of his mind, without his being able to 
 defend himself against it? Why did it not depart at 
 his humble prayer and thanksgiving ? If God intend- 
 ed to do him good, why did he expose him to so much 
 danger and he at the same time so defenceless 1 If 
 he loved him, why did he ask him to let him go ? And 
 why did he put him so entirely to shame ? If the Lord 
 be with us, why is all this befallen us ? This question 
 of Gideon's, the children of God are often inclined to 
 ask : " If I am really regenerate, whence these sinful 
 inclinations in me ? If the Lord loves me, why does 
 he place me in these particular circumstances ? If my 
 
126 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 prayer is acceptable, why does it not produce greater 
 effect ? If God is for me, why is there so much against 
 me ?" But the end of the ways of the Lord is better 
 than their beginning, and the soul at length receives a 
 very satisfactory answer to these questions. 
 
 The Lord, however, seemed to be entirely against 
 Jacob ; against him with words ; for he must have said 
 bitter things to him ; otherwise why did he weep ? as 
 Hosea informs us. He must have reproached, reprov- 
 ed, rejected, and threatened him ; otherwise why did he 
 entreat him 1 Did he not, in after-times, compare the 
 Canaanitish woman to a dog, and mention what was 
 proper and improper in the treatment of such ? And 
 is it not often the case with individuals, that when de- 
 sirous of comforting themselves with a promise a com- 
 mand, a threatening, a reproof meets them and snatches 
 it away, as it were, from their lips ; and this continues 
 until the covering of Moses falls off from the heart and 
 the soul looks into the perfect law- of liberty ; until 
 Christ becomes the end of the law ; till the whole of 
 holy writ becomes a Testament, and the covenant of 
 grace beams forth as such. But what is chiefly neces- 
 sary in order to this ? The Lord plunges Jacob, in a 
 certain sense, into despair, when he says ' Let me go 
 I will depart.' And does he not often withdraw him- 
 self, whilst the soul resolves to cleave to him, whatever 
 be the result ? 
 
 It did not rest in mere words : actions are added 
 to them. He increases Jacob's distress by wrestling 
 with him ; and that so violently, that Jacob, according 
 to the expression of Hosea, is obliged to resist with all 
 
SERMON VIII. 127 
 
 his might. He chooses, for this purpose, the night, a 
 season the most appalling of all ; and the period when 
 Jacob's distress had, besides that, reached a terrific 
 height, and when his fear was great. By the disloca- 
 tion of his thigh, he deprived him of all strength, and 
 rendered it impossible for him to continue the conflict, 
 although the ceasing from it was equally impossible. 
 He caused him pain. He casts him, as it were, de- 
 fenceless before his enemy, by making escape imprac- 
 ticable. 
 
 Jacob therefore found it necessary to defend himself, 
 and to strive against his adversary, be he who he 
 might. And the Lord bears him witness that he had 
 struggled with God, and had prevailed. With God ? 
 How wonderful! What! does God act in such a 
 manner with men ? Does he so degrade himself as to 
 wrestle with a man as man against man ? It is not 
 i-redible ! Not credible ? Thou shalt see still greater 
 and more unaccountable things than these. How wilt 
 thou believe the latter, if the former are incredible to 
 thee ? Go to Bethlehem ; there thou wilt find him ly- 
 ing in a manger, as a little needy infant. Go to Jeru- 
 salem; there thou wilt see him in the hands of the 
 wicked, who nail him to the cross ; there thou wilt be- 
 hold him crucified between two malefactors, hear him 
 complain of being forsaken of God, see him die, and 
 ness his interment. 
 
 What sayest thou to these astonishing mysteries ? If 
 thou canst not believe the less, how will it be with the 
 greater 1 Does God act thus towards men ? Why 
 should he not 1 If not a sparrow falls without the will 
 
128 ' THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 of God, what do -we think can befall the children of 
 God without their Father's superintendence? Even 
 the very hairs of our head are all numbered ; every one 
 of them is precious to him ; and how can it be other- 
 wise, since he has paid such an inestimable price for 
 them ? How wonderful ! Does his love assume such 
 a form as we here see it in the case of Jacob ? Does 
 he distribute benefits in such a manner ? Does appar- 
 ent injury also belong to his method of doing good ? 
 
 In what manner did Jacob wrestle with God ? Cer- 
 tainly not in the sense in which Stephen said to the 
 Jews, ' Ye do always resist the Holy Ghost, even as 
 your fathers did, so do- ye.' The Patriarch defended 
 himself not merely by struggling with his body this 
 was only the effect ; the cause lay deeper, lay within ; 
 and that was faith. This faith was not exactly a sen- 
 sible faith, nor a perfectly satisfied faith for he was 
 afraid; but distress excited it, and the best kind of 
 faith is when the individual, in the consciousness of his 
 utter poverty, does not look so much at his faith, as at 
 Jesus. Faith is that which is Divine in the Christian ; 
 which by a strong impulse seeks that which is Divine, 
 and is invincible. It manifests itself in taking refuge 
 with Christ under the strong attraction of the Father; 
 in not casting away our confidence, which has great 
 recompense of reward. Jacob clung with such firm- 
 ness to the Divine promise, which his distress compel- 
 led him to do, that he was so little confused by the 
 adverse conduct of the Lord as to refer him to his own 
 promise, ' I will do thee good,' and adhere firmly to it.' 
 
 Jacob wrestled with God, first, with the exertion of 
 
SERMON VIII. 129 
 
 all his powers, in the most determined struggle, as long 
 as he felt any power in himself; but this only served 
 to convince him, that we do not gain the prize by our 
 own efforts, and that the kingdom of peace is not 
 taken by violence. This mode of wrestling was ren- 
 dered impracticable to him, since he was deprived of 
 the requisite power for it by the dislocation of his thigh. 
 The conflict was now obliged to be continued in an 
 rntiivJy different manner that is, by a passive conduct, 
 which the circumstances pointed out. The paralyzed 
 combatant had no alternative than that of casting him- 
 self into the arms of him who had thus disabled him, 
 and instead of exerting himself, to let himself be car- 
 ried ; in other words instead of caring for himself, to 
 . cast his burden upon the Lord to believe, and to turn 
 from the law to the Gospel. And when he began to do 
 this, the Lord saw that he could not prevail against him, 
 and took his part. The struggle then assumed a very 
 different aspect ; it then became a reposing, such as 
 Isaiah speaks of in ch. xxx. 7 : * Their strength is to 
 sit >till ;' and in another place, * In quietness shall be 
 your strength.' 
 
 Thus we see in Jacob how legal exertion at length 
 gives way to the evangelical sabbath of repose ; and 
 that in the latter, that is attained for nought and with- 
 out labor, which is sought in vain from the most stre- 
 nuous efforts ; for according to Psalm cxxvii. 2, * He 
 giveth it his beloved, sleeping.' Wonderful ! When 
 Jacob was unable to struggle any longer, * the Lord 
 saw that he prevailed not against him.' 
 12 
 
130 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 But why did God enter into such a conflict with 
 Jacob ? 
 
 First, because it pleased him. Secondly, to give a 
 particular proof of his condescension, how minutely he 
 concerns himself about his people a subject of which 
 our ungodly hearts so often doubt, and so seldom con- 
 fide in, to the extent we ought, if we only give ear to 
 the single injunction of the Apostle when he says, Be 
 careful for nothing.' But the unbelieving corrupt na- 
 ture requires one proof after another, and still remains 
 incredulous ; as Job says, If I had called and he had 
 answered me, yet would I not believe that he had 
 hearkened unto my voice.' (ch. ix. 16.) We prefer 
 caring for ourselves, although we accomplish nothing 
 by it, and only occasion ourselves fruitless labor. 
 
 We have certainly much greater and more striking 
 proofs of the uncommon condescension of God to man 
 in the Holy Scriptures, than this to Jacob ; but the lat- 
 ter is not to be despised. When should we have done, 
 were we only in some measure to go through the his- 
 tory of Jacob's posterity, both during their forty years' 
 journey through the wilderness, and their actual resi- 
 dence in Canaan, in order to show how God often so 
 visibly interfered ; and what would it avail the old man, 
 who would have recourse to the subterfuge, " though 
 God did these things formerly, yet he does them no 
 longer." Just as if he either did nothing, or must do 
 obvious miracles, and as if he were bound to one par- 
 ticular mode of acting. And even when miracles were 
 really performed, there were prudent people enough, 
 who said, " Master, we would gladly see a separate 
 
SERMON VIII. 131 
 
 sign from thee, which should not merely convince the 
 ir, but us also." " Ye shall have a sign," replied 
 the Master ; " I will rise again after ye have slain me." 
 This took place ; they knew of it in a manner which 
 ought to have been perfectly satisfactory to them. But 
 what did it avail ? They continued in unbelief ; for 
 when the kingdom of God comes, outward phenomena 
 do not contribute to it; unless the individual rco 
 the spirit of faith, he does not believe though one rose 
 from the dead. He that knows God, sees him not only 
 in the thunder and the storm, or in manifest wonders, 
 which certainly may compel even Egyptian magicians 
 to acknowledge his hand ; but also in the lot, and the 
 hair of the head, and in events unimportant in them- 
 selves, by which he is the most honored. God therefore 
 gives, in this conflict with Jacob, a proof of his uncom- 
 mon condescension. 
 
 It serves also, thirdly, as a representation to others 
 of the ways by which the Lord may lead them, in a 
 similar manner to Jacob. It is true, the Lord will 
 scarcely think it needful to enter into a bodily conflict 
 with any one, although he is able, and really does, ex- 
 ercise his children by temporal occurrences. There are 
 instances in which, from the time the individual was 
 converted to God, success no longer attends him, but 
 sickness or misfortunes befal himself or his family ; 
 nay, it may even be the case, that he himself is depriv- 
 ed of his natural ability to take charge of his affairs, 
 and they fall into confusion, however much he may 
 exert himself, and however cautiously he may act ; so 
 that even in natural things he is put to shame. In his 
 
132 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 domestic and family circle, the words of Christ may be 
 verified ( A man's foes are those of his own house- 
 hold.' Quarrels .may arise with respect to religion, 
 between husband and wife, parents and children, where 
 unity previously prevailed. It may happen, that a per- 
 son, on account of his religion, may become the object 
 of an almost universal hatred, calumny, and ridicule ; 
 nay, he may be occasionally ill-treated, as was the case 
 with the Holy One himself. 
 
 Generally speaking, those to whom the Lord is will- 
 ing to manifest himself more intimately, as he did to 
 Jacob, experience many trials and much adversity for a 
 period ; and at length an Esau stands in their way, 
 who threatens them with destruction-^-nay, not only 
 an Esau, but the Lord himself. They are brought low 
 in themselves, that the Lord may be magnified. They 
 desire to be holy, strong, righteous, wise, believing, and 
 good; they pray and labor as much as possible ; but 
 instead of advancing forward, they go back. They 
 increasingly exert themselves like Jacob ; but only dis- 
 locate their limbs the more. Whatever they lay hold of, 
 eludes_their grasp ; what they seek, they do not obtain. 
 Jesus makes sinners of them without mercy, and their 
 sin appears extremely sinful to them by means of 
 the commandment, however much they may moan 
 and groan on account of it. At length, their very 
 hip is dislocated ; they can no longer maintain .their 
 former footing ; and nothing is left them but to yield 
 themselves to the Son of God at discretion, and creep, 
 as chickens, under his expanded wings. O glorious 
 result, but highly disagreeable path to nature, to which 
 
SERMON VIII. 133 
 
 nothing is It'll, and to which nothing ought to be left ! 
 Here it is manifest, that the mystery of godliness is 
 great. 
 
 But what was the result of the conflict? It is 
 described in the unparalleled words, ' Thou hast had 
 power with God, and hast prevailed.' How absurd to 
 reason ! How apparently impossible to prevail over 
 God ! What strange things are related in the Scrip- 
 tures! CYrtainU they are strange; no rational soul 
 can deny it. How absurd it sounds, when it is said, for 
 instance, ' He that will be wise, let him become a 
 fool ;' ' God justifies the ungodly ;' ' When I am 
 weak, thm am I strong;' * Having nothing, yet pos- 
 sessing all things ;' * I ana. not come to call the right- 
 eous, but sinners:' and many more such paradoxical 
 expressions ; on which account, Paul calls the whole 
 Gospel foolishness, for which all that are wise, justly 
 regard it ; but to us, who believe this foolishness, it is 
 become the wisdom of God, and the power of God, 
 alter it is /iven ILS to believe it. 
 
 Jacob, therefore, (rained the victory over God ; nay, 
 he gained it ot necessity. And why ? God could not 
 strut- with him as the Almiirhty, or as the Holy One, 
 because he had bound his own hands by his truth, and 
 by his promise, 4 1 will do thee good.' God had ren- 
 dered it impossible for him to strive with Jacob in such 
 a manner, as would have resulted in his ruin. This 
 would have been at complete variance with his truth, 
 the thoughts ..I peace he had towards him, and with 
 the whole contents of the covenant of grace, as well as 
 the spiritual espousals of the Lord with his church. 
 12* 
 
134 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 He could, therefore, only strive against, him in love, 
 and do him no further injury than the glory of God and 
 Jacob's salvation necessarily required. Under these 
 circumstances, therefore, Jacob could not fail to suc- 
 ceed. He saves sinners, and justifies the ungodly. 
 Now, since he has said this himself, he cannot treat 
 those who are sinners and ungodly in any other man- 
 ner. 
 
 c As a prince thou hast power with God.' Wherein 
 consisted his princely conduct ? He was sincere, and 
 did not wish to appear before God better than he really 
 was. He confessed his sins, by frankly owning that he 
 was afraid. He believed the word which the Lord had 
 spoken. 
 
 And oh, how much may such a sincere confession ac- 
 complish ! When David at length said, * I will confess 
 my transgressions unto the Lord,' he forgave the iniqui- 
 ty of his sin. But as long as he kept silence, his bones 
 waxed old through his roaring all the day long. (Psalm 
 xxxii. 3 5.) He prayed and laid all his burden before 
 the Lord, whilst seeking all his help from him, and not 
 from himself. He believed, and that from faith to faith ; 
 so that he suffered nothing to confuse him, and was bold 
 enough at length to cast himself into the arms of his 
 opponent, when every other mode of acting was render- 
 ed impracticable. And to him that believeth, all 
 things are possible, even the overcoming of God him- 
 self. 
 
 " Ah, but who is able to act in a similar manner to 
 Jacob ?" Be it so ; but we must remark that the He- 
 brew language has something in it very peculiar 5 so 
 
SERMON VIII. 135 
 
 that it is not only said, * Thou hast prevailed,' but at 
 the same time, " Thou art rendered fit, able, and compe- 
 tent, and wilt be made competent to prevail." The 
 whole affair is now clear. It is now conceiveable how 
 Jacob could have acted thus, although it would other- 
 wise have been incomprehensible how a weak and sinful 
 man could have conducted himself in such a manner. 
 Now the whole glory reverted, as it ought, to the Lord. 
 It was sufficiently honourable for Jacob, that he was ena- 
 bled to act thus ; and a cause of sufficient joy, that the 
 Lord had thus condescended to him. 
 
 But what a carte-blanche for the future " Thou shalt 
 be made competent !" What was left him, therefore, 
 but to believe, to hang upon his neck, and suffer him to 
 carry him ! 
 
 How confidently might he now look forward to 
 whatever might occur ! If he had no sufficiency for it 
 beforehand, he did not need it. * Take no thought what 
 ye shall say, or what ye shall do ; it shall be given you 
 at the time what ye shall speak.' ' If ye abide in me, 
 my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, 
 and it shall be done unto you.' 
 
SERMON IX. 
 
 THE Epistle of James is a remarkable piece of Holy 
 Writ, although it is somewhat difficult to understand it 
 aright. Its object is, that those whom he calls breth- 
 ren, should be perfect and entire, wanting nothing ; 
 and that their faith should be unfeigned. Hence he en- 
 deavors to overthrow all that is not sincere and genu- 
 ine : and because trials are a blessed means for this pur- 
 pose in the Father's hands, he wishes them to esteem it 
 all joy when they fall into divers temptations, and 
 counts him happy who endures the test. He then 
 points out the source of every good and perfect gift, 
 which is the Father alone ; and entreats them not to 
 err in expecting any thing from any other quarter. He 
 then recommends prayer ; because God giveth liberally, 
 and upbraideth no one. Every one pretends that he 
 prays ; but the Apostle inquires whether his prayer pos- 
 sesses the true properties ? Is it offered in faith ? If 
 not, let no one suppose that he shall receive any thing 
 of the Lord. Faith, again, is a thing of which it is easy 
 to say, " I possess it." Be it so ; let us look at thy 
 faith. The devils also believe, and Abraham likewise. 
 Which of the two does thine resemble ? Thou seest 
 that with Abraham it was not a lifeless matter, but en- 
 abled him to offer up Isaac on the altar ^ and hence it 
 is evident that man is not justified by faith alone, but 
 
SERMON IX. 137 
 
 that justifying faith must necessarily be living faith, and 
 the man must prove his faith. by his works. If he does 
 not, his faith is available neither before God nor man, 
 nor even before the man's own conscience, who says, 
 * I believe,' much less before the all-penetrating eyes of 
 God. 
 
 But, says one, " I have faith and works also;" these 
 are again subjected to a test Dost thou do all the 
 good thou knowest to be such ? For ' to him that 
 knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.' 
 But art thou deficient in no single point ? For suppos- 
 ing that thou didst keep the whole law, and yet didst 
 offend in one point, thou art guilty of .all. How does it 
 therefore stand with thee ; especially with regard to 
 love, this royal law ? Does that which thou doest 
 arise from compulsatory motives, or to procure thy sal- 
 vation ? Thou probably judgest others, and art there- 
 fore not a doer, but a judge. 
 
 In this manner the Apostle shakes the foundation of 
 every thing in its turn. He first of all attacks prayer, 
 then faith, and then works. For what purpose? 
 A house that is built on a rock must be able to with- 
 stand the winds and the waves ; if it falls, the founda- 
 tion is bad. * When a man is tried, he shall receive 
 the crown of life, which God has promised to those who 
 love him.' He mentions Jesus Christ only twice ; and 
 if we join with it the word Lord, only five times in the 
 whole epistle: whilst Peter, in a much shorter one, 
 names him upwards of twenty times. James acts in a 
 proper manner with the kind of people he had before 
 him. Nothing is effected by the mere talking about 
 
138 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 Christ, faith, and good works. The individual must 
 first become acquainted with his natural state; his 
 boasting of prayer, faith, and works, will then be at an 
 end ; and he will become wretched, so as to weep and 
 mourn. When in this school, he must learn patience ; 
 in due time he will also be able to look into the perfect 
 law of liberty, and then be blessed in his deed. 
 We find this confirmed in the history of Jacob. 
 
 GENESIS xxxii. 29. 
 
 And Jacob asked him, and said, Tell me, I pray thee, thy 
 name. And he said, Wherefore is it that thou dost ask 
 after my name ? 
 
 LET us more closely consider the meaning of these 
 words, and investigate, 
 
 I. The Patriarch's inquiry ; and, 
 II. The Lord's reply. 
 
 The Lord had asked Jacob how he was called, not 
 as if he did not know it, but in order to give him a 
 name more in accordance with his present state of grace. 
 Jacob, meanwhile, feels emboldened to ask his antag- 
 onist his name. It may be that he was desirous of 
 knowing how the Lord ought properly to be called. 
 He was usually called 'Elohim' the most High. 
 God himself had said to Abraham, ( I am the El Shad- 
 dai, the almighty or all-sufficient God.' He was also 
 called simply El, the Strong One. But these appella- 
 
SERMON IX. 139 
 
 tions no longer satisfied the patriarch after his recent 
 experience. They all expressed something of the Di- 
 vine glory, but none of them the whole of it. There 
 was probably an ardor in his soul, which would gladly 
 have poured itself out in hymns of praise, but for which 
 he could not find words. He that can worthily praise 
 God, must be God himself. When the Son said, * Fa- 
 ther, I thank thee,' he was perfectly praised ; but all 
 the praises of all created things are called a silence, 
 because they fall far short of their infinite object. It is 
 like the praise of a little child, that commends some 
 one for being wise or rich ; but to which praise no one 
 pays particular attention, because a little child knows 
 so little what it is to be wise or rich. Such is the case 
 with us in comparison with God. We are however 
 able, on our part, to adduce a perfect praise of God, of 
 which angels are incapable ; since Jesus Christ, the 
 God-man, is made unto us righteousness and sanctifi- 
 cation, and we in him are the righteousness of God. 
 
 But Jacob doubtless was not anxious merely about 
 the name, when he said, * Tell me, I pray thee, thy 
 name.' I think he meant to say by it, " Lord, how 
 shall I call thee ? I know not what to think, much less 
 to say. Such a condescension as that which thou hast 
 shown to me, who am but dust, is more than my heart 
 could have remotely anticipated. I know and confess, 
 that thou, O Lord ! art wonderful and gracious. I know 
 how thou hast condescended to my forefather Abraham, 
 and didst converse with him as one friend with another. 
 I know that thou art wonderful, as thou didst show thy- 
 self, when desiring ray father Isaac as a sacrifice. I 
 
140 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 know, from my own experience, how gracious thou art. 
 Thou didst once appear to' me in a dream, and thou 
 hast impressed promises upon my heart, which I cannot 
 doubt proceed from thee. Thou hast blessed me out- 
 wardly, so that I am become a rich man. But what 
 hast thou now done to me 1 Thou disguisest thyself in 
 my flesh and blood, and becomest like one of us ; thou 
 feignest thyself to be my opponent, in order to do me 
 good ! 'Thou even wrestlest with me ! Thou grievest 
 me, only to console me ! Thou breakest down all my 
 strength, in order to declare that thou art in my power. 
 Thou givest me a new name, which represents me as 
 the conqueror and thee as the conquered, and which 
 renders that which is impossible real. Thou art not 
 ashamed to declare that I, a worm, have striven with 
 God, and have prevailed ; although all victory lies in 
 thy hands. Thou entreatest me to let thee go ; as if I 
 could compel thee to remain, and to do what I please. 
 It was thou who madest me competent to all this, and 
 yet commendest me, as if I, a poor timid creature, had 
 done it of myself. Thou, who art the Holy One, suf- 
 ferest thyself to be embraced by my unholy arms ; thou, 
 who art Almighty, to be overcome by one so weak as 
 I ! This is too much, this is too wonderful and too 
 lofty ; I cannot comprehend it. Tell me, what is thy 
 name ? What shall I say of thee ? for I know not. 
 Who, indeed, can know how he ought to bless, praise, 
 exalt, and extol thee as he ought, when he learns and 
 is conscious of what thou doest to thy children ?" 
 
 If it had been said to Jacob, thus filled with God, 
 " This that the Lord hath now done unto thee, is some- 
 
SERMON IX. 141 
 
 thing very trifling compared with that which he is will- 
 ing to do for thee. He has, in this instance, assumed 
 the human form only for a short time ; but in the ful- 
 ness of time he will reaDy be born of a woman, and not 
 spend merely a few hours, but three and thirty years, 
 upon earth ; suffer in body and soul the most extreme 
 anguish ; and even die for Israel, that they may live. 
 And the people will not meet him, as thou hast done, 
 with prayers and tears, but with great wrath and bitter 
 fury will they do him all conceivable injury ; whilst 
 He, from love, will bear it as a lamb." If the Patri- 
 arch could then have been told these things which 
 not fitted, however, for that period " Oh," he 
 would have exclaimed, by God's grace, " I can believe 
 it ! I can believe it ! What can be too much for Him 
 to perform ?" Had he been told that he would be call- 
 ed Love, he would have exclaimed, " That is his true 
 name !" And who can say what an insight Jacob may 
 have obtained into the mystery of salvation during this 
 it, and of which he uttered many things in his part- 
 ing blessing ? . At least, Jesus says of Abraham, * He 
 saw my day, and was glad.' 
 
 It is also certain, that when the Lord's people have 
 >}u-nt a period of profound trial and inward suffering, 
 he is often wont to refresh them in a very especial 
 manner. The darker and more anxious the previous 
 night, the more reviving, the more ravishing is the 
 light which succeeds ; the more profound the com- 
 plaint, the more exalted the praise ; and the Lord is 
 never more fervently praised, than by deeply humbled 
 souls. * He will regard the prayer of the destitute, 
 13 
 
142 THE WRESTLING OF. JACOB. . 
 
 and not despise their prayer.' (Psalm 'cii. 17.) < Ke~ 
 turn unto thy rest, O my soul ! for the Lord hath dealt 
 bountifully with thee. For thou hast delivered my 
 soul- from death, mine -e'yes from .-tears, and my feet 
 from falling.' What shall I render unto the Lord for 
 all his benefits towards me 1 I will take -the cup of sal- 
 vation, and call upon the name of the Lord. * Thou 
 hast loosed my bonds? ' (Psalm cxvi.) He perceives, 
 in the humiliating paths by which he has been led, the 
 faithfulness and kindness of the Lord, in the most par- 
 ticular manner.. -He finds that they lead to nothing but 
 blessing, although- he. perhaps thought at the time, that, 
 if the -Lord loved" him in any degree, he would have 
 acted very differently. But now everything becomes 
 clear to him, and -he thinks he will despond.no more, 
 however strangely it may go with him. But whether 
 he will be able to keep his word or riot, is another 
 question; certain it is, that when God withdraws his 
 grace, nothing but sin and -weakness is left us, and the 
 being .willing to learn tnis' is also' wisdom and grace, 
 But " tell Jne, I pray thee, thy name. Reve'al thyself 
 more intimately to my soul." Such a desire is very 
 laudable. Christ- declares that c this is life eternal, that 
 they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus 
 Christ whom thou hast sent.' . Paul found so much, 
 comprised in the' knowledge of 'Jesus Christ, that he 
 regarded- everything else in comparison with it -as loss 
 and dung. Moses also once experienced such a strong 
 desire, that he prayed, saying, * If I have now found 
 grace in thy sight, I beseech. thee show- me thy glory.' 
 And the Lord really granted him his request, as far as 
 was possible- '.'"; 
 
SERMON II. 143 
 
 In the Old Testament dispensation, the general' in- 
 quiry was, * Watchman, what of the night ?' The pro- 
 phets who prophesied of the graot, which was still to 
 be revealed, searched diligently into the meaning of 
 their predictions, and longed for the period, when the 
 knowledge of the Lord should become general. An 
 acquaintance with all the blessings we have in Christ 
 Jesus, invigorates faith, as Paul writes to Philemon ; 
 and it is very desirable that the morning star should 
 arise in the dark place of our hearts, and the day 
 dawn ; that thus the path of the just may increase in 
 brightness, * even as the shining light, which shineth 
 more and more unto the perfect day.' (Prov. iy. 18.) 
 
 ' I am known of mine,' says Jesus. O glorious ag- 
 quaintance, ^in which 'everything may be met with 
 which can strengthen, delight, cheer, and tranquilize 
 us, and which Jesus justly declares to be eternal life. 
 An acquaintance, which is like an inexhaustible mine, 
 from whence we receive grace upon grace ; a know- 
 .ledge irrespective of which, there is no rest for the souk. 
 The Old Testament church and with it, the heart of 
 the awakened individual longs and languishes for 
 light; until it is said to the cities of Judah, 'Behold 
 your God-' 
 
 How can it fail, that he who finds an inward rest f6r 
 his soul, and whose inward powers and faculties are 
 collected from a state of multiplicity- into a state of 
 unity ; who enjoys intimate intercourse with Jesus 
 Christ, and is acquainted with him as made of God unto 
 him wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemp- 
 tion ; should be satisfied even in the midst of poverty 
 and barrenness, since he has all in Christ ? 
 
144 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 Who would not long for such an acquaintance, and 
 pray, " Make thyself known to me; cause thy face to 
 shine upon me ; mate me acquainted with thee !" es- 
 pecially since we have the promise, ' Thou shalt know 
 the Lord.' Certainly, this is a pearl worthy of the 
 whole of our poor property ; a treasure, for the sake of 
 which, we may well sell every thing in order to obtain 
 it. But it is only in the light of God that we see light. 
 Blessed are the eyes which see what ye see. ' Flesh 
 and blood has not revealed it unto thee, but my Father 
 which is in heaven.' But as long as the Christian is 
 not duly acquainted with his Lord and head, he feels 
 like Noah's dove, which found no rest for her foot. If 
 he finds rest, he is soon again disturbed ; if he thinks 
 he possesses something, it is soon taken from him again, 
 because he still desires to possess it in himself, and not 
 in Christ ; if he falls into straits, he is again embarrass- 
 ed as before; for he still looks to himself, because 
 Moses and Elias have not yet disappeared, so as to 
 leave Christ alone. 
 
 But the Lord replied, ' Wherefore is it, that thou dost 
 ask after my name ?' and with this he breaks off. 
 This is strange ! When Manoah, the father of Sam- 
 son, besought him to tell him his name, he acted almost 
 in a similar manner, and replied, ' Why askest thou 
 thus after my name, seeing it is secret ?' (Judges xiii. 
 18.) Moses also entreated him to tell him his name, 
 in order that if the children of Israel should inquire 
 what was the name of the God who had sent him, he 
 might be able to give them an answer. To which the 
 Lord replied in a singular manner, ' I AM THAT I AM. 
 
SERMON IX. 145 
 
 Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM 
 hath sent me unto you.' (Exod. iii. 13, 14.) God af- 
 terwards called himself Jehovah ; which name compre- 
 hends in it the ideas, He is, was, and shall be, and of 
 which God says, in chap. vi. 3, * I appeared unto Abra- 
 ham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, by the name of God 
 Almighty ; but by my name Jehovah was I not known 
 to them.' But he was then desirous of being known 
 and honored under this title. In the days of Moses, 
 the first syllable of this name, * he shall be,' was the 
 most important. Hitherto he had revealed himself in 
 an intimate manner only to individuals ; but then, he 
 wished to showtaall lands, and to the people of Israel in 
 particular, by a multitude of great and mighty wonders, 
 what kind of a being he was. They were to be con- 
 tinually in the full expectation of the things that should 
 come to pass, until they should at length be able to ex- 
 claim, ' Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given,' 
 until the times should be fulfilled that he sent his Son. 
 But even in the New Testament, the name Jehovah 
 ' he- that >hall come' is still in operation. .Hence 
 it often appears in the revelations of St. John, not in- 
 deed as the word itself, but the translation of it, * He 
 that was and is, and is to come;' because the New 
 Testament church also continually waits for new reve- 
 lations of the glory of God in the hearts of the elect, 
 and in the coming of his kingdom ; until at length, 
 after the complete accomplishment of all the Divine 
 counsels, and alter the new Jerusalem shall have de- 
 scended out of heaven from God, it shall be said, ' It is 
 done !' And, what will then occur, no eye hath ever 
 13* 
 
146 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 seen ; for this name Jehovah flows on through all eter- 
 nity as a beautifying stream. 
 
 6 He was,' is the second syllable, and shows us that 
 Moses preached to them, not a new, but the old un- 
 changeable God. He is ever the same in hirnself, in 
 his covenant, in his manifestations a God of perfect 
 blessedness; whilst without him and his fellowship, 
 there is nothing but delusion, deceit, and unhappiness. 
 
 But why does not the Lord answer Jacob's question, 
 since he himself excited it in his heart ? The Lord 
 often acts in a manner according with his name ' Won- 
 derful.' What was the reason why he said to Mary 
 Magdalen, who by his appearing was most joyfully as- 
 tonished, and doubtless fell upon the ground before him 
 in order to embrace his feet why did he say to her, 
 ' Touch me not ! for I am not yet ascended to my Fa- 
 ther ;' although, immediately afterwards, he suffered 
 the other women whom he met, to touch him in this 
 manner ? Why did he break off so unexpectedly from 
 her, as here from Jacob ? Why did he vanish from 
 the eyes of the two disciples in Emmaus, at the very 
 moment when he made himself known to them, as if 
 unwilling that they should express their feelings to- 
 wards him ; not to mention the singular answers which 
 he frequently gave to the Jews : for instance, on their 
 asking by what authority he did those things, he re- 
 plied, c I will also ask you one thing ; and answer me.' 
 To their question, Who art thou then ? he replied, 
 ' Even I that speak unto you.' At their urgent inter- 
 rogatory, How long wilt thou keep us in suspense ; if 
 thou art the Christ, tell us plainly ? he answered, ' I 
 
SERMON IX. 147 
 
 have already told you, but ye believe not ; for ye are 
 not of God.' But frequently he told them far more 
 than they wished to know, and were only offended 
 by it. 
 
 His name is * Wonderful.' Jacob, Mary, and the 
 disciples at Emmaus, probably saw afterwards the wis- 
 ddlh of the behavior of Jesus towards them, although 
 it might appear strange to them at the time. If the 
 Lord is willing fully to satisfy the desire which he has 
 implanted in his children, he must make them parta- 
 kers of the whole blessing, which he purchased for 
 them on the cross. He is also willing to do this, ac- 
 cording to his" name; * He that shall be ;' not here 
 below, but in paradise. Hence we must learn to be 
 content and satisfied with our daily bread. Nor must 
 we be astonished, if, when enjoying some gracious 
 communication, something all at once intervenes, whilst 
 we believed more would have been added. Here we 
 still dwell in Meseck, and are not yet at home in the 
 Lord, but in patience wait for him. And this waiting 
 is an essential part of religion, in which the Lord has 
 exercised his church from the beginning even until 
 now. 
 
 The Lord does all things well in due time, in general, 
 as well as in particular He only knows also the pro- 
 per manner ; and hence we must be content to be told, 
 ' my hour is not yet come.' Jacob's question was also 
 fully answered ; eternity, however, is destined for its 
 further elucidation. Israel thought he might then be- 
 come acquainted with the whole mystery of redemp- 
 tion ; but a couple of .centuries must elapse ere it was 
 
148 ' THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 fully made known. Israel was obliged to learn to. 
 wa it to see the promises afar off, and to be satisfied 
 with it. He was satisfied, and held his peace. 
 
 This waiting continued until it was proclaimed, 
 * Behold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy, which 
 shall be unto all people' and then again, when it. was 
 said, ' It is finished !'. the waiting recommenced, untJPit 
 was said, ( The Lord is risen indeed !' Again the 
 people of God began to wait, and expressed their ex- 
 pectations, in the question, ' Lord, wilt thou now restore 
 the kingdom unto Israel ;' and were exercised by the 
 reply, ' It is not for you to know the times or the sea- 
 sons, which the Father hath put in his own power.' It 
 therefore happened unto the disciples almost as it did to 
 their forefather Jacob. Jesus ascended up into heaven, 
 and the church was again instructed to wait, when the 
 Lord sent word from heaven, saying, ' This same Jesus 
 shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go 
 into heaven.' (Acts i. 11.) Since that time it has 
 continued to pray, for nearly two thousand years, ' Thy 
 kingdom come !' Often indeed was the inquiry made, 
 ' Lord, wilt thou not at this time restore the kingdom 
 to Israel V under the idea that it would be the case ; 
 but the same reply was again given, '' To you it is 
 not given to know either the day or the hour.' It now 
 continues quietly to wait, assured that He will accom- 
 plish it in his time. It must not be taken amiss of the 
 church, that it has frequently miscalculated in its joy, 
 and been compelled to wait afresh ; which is certainly 
 painful, since the thing is so desirable for which it 
 hopes. But if it tarry, wait for it. It will certainly 
 
SERMON DC. 149 
 
 come, and will not tarry. Although with regard to de- 
 termining the time, every year may have witnessed a 
 similar mistake to that of the disciples, yet the thing 
 itself remains true, and we continue to pray, ' Thy 
 kingdom come,' until we, or our descendants, are 
 enabled to say, * Thine is the kingdom.' 
 
 Such is also the case with individual Christians, 
 They must wait not merely for perfect salvation and 
 glorification, but also, for being made meet for it. It is 
 often very painful, when, though possessing the will to 
 perform what, is good, the ability is wanting ; when, 
 although we clearly perceive that we might be far 
 more happy and courageous in our spiritual course, yet 
 we are unable to attain to it ; when we see -how com- 
 fortable those are, who can hold confidential intercourse 
 with the Savior, who believe in a child-like manner, 
 who pray without ceasing, cast all their care upon the 
 Lord, rejoice in him continually, and confide themselves 
 without anxiety to his guidance and providence ; 
 and when we clearly perceive, that this is not only 
 something very blissful and very sacred, but also pos- 
 sible, and by God's grace attainable ; but yet are com- 
 pelled at the same time to say, " Ah, who will give me 
 the wings of an eagle !" and are obliged to confess, 
 that this is not attainable by human effort, and that no 
 one can receive anything except it be given him from 
 heaven. 
 
 But when it is not yet given the individual, and a 
 more intimate manifestation of the Lord to his soul is 
 still denie<} him, this state is more painful than those 
 are able to conceive of, who are already full, and, as 
 the Apostle says, * reign without us.' 
 
"150 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 However, * faithful is he who hath called you, who 
 also will do it.' If it be once given you. duly to appre- 
 hend, believe, and understand the .words, ' Who also 
 will do it' your peace will flow like a river, and your 
 righteousness as the waves of the sea. Yea, he will do 
 it ! O bless* the Lord ! Amen. . - 
 
SERMON X 
 
 WHEN Paul says, that his preaching consisted npt in 
 excellency of speech or human wisdom, be states some- 
 thing that. is applicable to the.whole of Scripture, which 
 presents to darkened reason a labyrinth, out of which it 
 sees no outlet, and. something that also very frequently 
 applies to the ways in which God leads his people. 
 Whet deep complaints are uttered by the man after 
 God's own heart in Psalm xxxviii. ; from which, how- 
 ever, we will only adduce" the tenth verse, where he 
 says,.* My strength faileth me.' Strength is riecessary 
 in order to labor ; and he who does iiot possess it, is in- 
 capable of the latter. TEe Christian must labor much. 
 He must watchj pray, deny himself; preserve himself 
 unspotted from the world ; lay aside the sin \vhich so 
 r;isily besets him, and renders him. slothful, put on the 
 armor of light ; believe -because without faith it is im- 
 possible to please God'; love because only he that loveth 
 abideth in God, and God in him ; in short, to say every 
 thing in few words, he must ' work out his own salva- 
 tion with fear and trembling.' Let us not, think' to ex- 
 cuse ourselves with the idea that we are unable*to do 
 this ; for the debtor menti&ned by our Lord, was deliv- 
 ered over to the tormentors, just because he was not 
 able to pay. 
 
 David was able to do it. It is true, he never ima- 
 gined he did it perfectly, but confessed that no one can 
 
152 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 understand his errors ; yet he succeeded. What did he 
 not possess, whom Saul called a stripling, whose form 
 was more pleasing than great ; what courage did he 
 possess, and how much did he accomplish ! A lion 
 and a bear once attacked his flock, and carried off a 
 lamb ; but the little beautiful boy ran after him, smote 
 him, and rescued the lamb from his jaws ; and on its 
 attacking himself, he caught it by the beard, smote it, 
 and slew it. O pleasing type of Christ ! The fair and 
 ruddy youth had courage enough to go forth against 
 the Philistine, whose height was six cubits and a span, 
 when every one else fled before him. His brother 
 Eliab angrily reproached him for being presumptuous, 
 and thought he would do better to go and tend the few 
 sheep in the wilderness. But it was not presumption ; 
 it was confidence in the living God. The fair-faced cou- 
 rageous youth probably did not at that time anticipate that 
 he should ever compose such a Psalm as the 38th ; and 
 lament in it that his strength failed him. If his strength 
 had departed, he was no longer able to accomplish that 
 which he could otherwise have performed, and which 
 was at other times easy to him ; it was now become 
 difficult, and even impracticable. ' I am feeble, and 
 sore broken,' says he in verse 8 ; ' I have roared by 
 reason of the disquietness of my heart ;' according to 
 Psalm Ixxvii., he was so troubled that he could not 
 speak^much less accomplish anything. What was the 
 reason of so much wretchedness ? His iniquity was the 
 cause of it ; on which account he at length says, ' I 
 know, Lord, that thy judgments are just, and that in 
 faithfulness thou hast afflicted me.' 
 
SERMON X. 153 
 
 . What was it that failed him ? Not all strength in the 
 general, but his own strength. * My strength faileth 
 me.' Before, he had been able to do much that was 
 good ; but this is now at an end. No wonder that he 
 began to be troubled about his sin. In verse 17, we 
 are told he was ready to halt. This was a severe trial 
 to self-love, self-righteousness, and to the life of self. 
 But whom the Lord loveth, he overthrows in this man- 
 ner, and gives them over unto death. 
 
 What was the result of this guidance ? He never ob- 
 tained his own strength again, nor did he wish for it ; 
 God has no pleasure in the strength of a man. No- 
 thing was left him, but to declare his iniquity, and to 
 hope in the Lord; who according to Psalm Ixviii., 
 gives his people might and power. His own strength 
 was then no longer needed ; he was then strong when 
 he was weak, and great, by being humbled. Then he no 
 longer said, ' I care ;' but, * I lay me down and sleep 
 in peace, for thou, Lord, only causest me to dwell in 
 safety.' 
 
 Strange beginning ! glorious end ! Such is also the 
 'case in the history of Jacob. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 29. 
 And he blessed him there. 
 
 Jacob now receives the blessing on the very spot on 
 which he had been obliged to wrestle. We will con- 
 sider this a little more minutely. 
 14 
 
154 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 Israel had entreated a blessing, and that with a fer- 
 vor and resolution which would take no refusal : * I 
 will not let thee go except thou bless me.' This was 
 the Lord's own work in the soul of his servant. It 
 was a prayer according to his will ; and ' if we ask 
 any thing according to his will, he heareth us.' This 
 prayer flowed from a profound and vital feeling, from 
 a heartfelt consciousness of the necessity of a superior 
 communication of grace. It was a hungering and 
 thirsting after righteousness, which Jesus pronounces 
 blessed, on account of the satisfaction attendant upon it, 
 and to which the latter is secured. 
 
 What was it that Jacob particularly desired in im- 
 ploring a blessing 1 He had already a sufficiency of 
 earthly wealth ; and in spiritual things he probably did 
 not regard himself as one who has no part in the Di- 
 vine blessing, and who is not an object of the good 
 pleasure and love of God ; by no means. He intended 
 by itifirst, a confirmation of the blessing received from 
 his father, in virtue of which he was to be the progeni- 
 tor of the promised Savior of the world. This is prov- 
 ed by his high esteem and love for the Redeemer. 
 Esau, his brother, might have had the first claim to it, 
 on account of his being the first-born ; but he thought 
 so little of the Redeemer, that he sold his birth-right, 
 with all its privileges, for a mess of pottage ; a figure 
 of all those who esteem temporal blessings, and sensi- 
 ble and sinful delights, more highly than the favor of 
 God. Esau obtained what he sought earthly prospe- 
 rity ; and in this respect far exceeded Jacob. The lat- 
 ter laad only a sufficient number of servants, whilst Esau 
 
SERMON X. 155 
 
 could take the field with four hundred armed men ; 
 which was at that time a great number. The children 
 ni lOsau were immediately termed princes, (ch. xxxvi.), 
 and they were numerous. Two of them were called 
 Eliphaz and Teman ; and as these names were applied 
 to Job's friends, it is evident that they were the de- 
 lants of Esau. As they make no mention what- 
 ever of the Redeemer in their discourses with Job to 
 whom the latter bears such an excellent testimony, and 
 who is also mentioned by Elihu we justly conclude 
 that Esau troubled himself little about it, and that his 
 descendants followed in his steps ; who, in the case of 
 Job, only regarded temporal prosperity as a sign of 
 Divine favor, and the being deprived of it as a proof 
 of the Divine displeasure ; and hence declared Job to 
 be an ungodly man, by which they at the same time 
 proved their own righteousness; according to which 
 they regarded their temporal prosperity as a reward of 
 their virtue, and inferred from Job's affliction, that he 
 possessed no virtue. They were hirelings ; hence the 
 Lord said to Eliphaz the Temanite, * My wrath is kin- 
 dled against thee and thy two friends, for ye have not 
 spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job 
 hath :' * My servant Job shall pray for you, for him 
 will I accept ; lest I deal with you after your folly.' If 
 before, they would only hear of their own righteousness, 
 and not of a mediator, tin y were now obliged to be 
 content to accept of Job's mediation, and hear that the 
 Divine displeasure \v;is kindled against them, notwith- 
 standing their i^reat wisdom and virtue, in which they 
 thought they so much excelled Job ; and they were in 
 
156 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 great danger of experiencing the most painful proofs of 
 it. God regarded all their boasted wisdom as folly, 
 however much they had said that was true and excel- 
 lent ; and testified, respecting his servant Job, whose 
 whole wisdom was at last comprised in this single ex- 
 pression, ( I know that my Redeemer liveth,' notwith- 
 standing all that he had uttered in his haste, ' Ye have 
 not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant 
 Job hath.'. We must hope that in this manner, their 
 own wisdom and righteousness were in mercy put to 
 shame, and that they learnt with Job to comfort them- 
 selves with a Redeemer, and with Elihu to look unto 
 the One of a thousand, who says, ( Deliver him from 
 going down to the pit.' 
 
 Esau and his posterity soon established themselves 
 in Mount Seir, and had already kings of their own, 
 whilst Israel's descendants were still in circumstances 
 of difficulty ; as a proof that the Divine favor and tem- 
 poral sufferings may not only well exist together, but 
 that the cross generally accompanies grace, and that 
 those are not necessarily the children of God, with 
 whom every thing succeeds according to their wish. 
 Jacob called his life a pilgrimage, and thus proved that 
 he sought a country beyond the limits of the visible 
 world. He gladly chose Christ, even with the cross ; 
 which mind was afterwards manifested very gloriously 
 in Moses, that true Israelite, when he chose rather to 
 suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy 
 the pleasures of sin for a season ! 
 
 But what ideas must Esau have had of the blessing 
 of God, on comparing himself with Jacob ? The lat- 
 
SERMON X. 157 
 
 ter called him * his Lord,' and himself ' his servant.' 
 And such it really seemed, according to outward ap- 
 pearance. " Ah," may Esau have thought, " what a 
 superstitious fool I was, to attach so much value to my 
 father's blessing, as to weep because my brother fore- 
 stalled me in it ! How little reason I had for doing so ! 
 How every thing succeeds according to my wish ! And 
 my brother, how does it fare with him and his blessing ? 
 It ,is only superstition. And according to reason, he 
 was in the right. But did Jacob think so too 1 Did 
 he think, " What am I profited in being preferred to 
 Esau ? Wherein consists my preference ? In suffer- 
 ing, in persecution, in misfortune'?" Did he think, 
 " The blessing was of no importance, and it was very 
 unnecessary for my mother to have been so anxious to 
 appropriate it to me ?' O no ! His Redeemer was his 
 treasure, which he would not exchange for any consi- 
 deration. He regarded all he possessed as a gracious 
 present of the good pleasure of God ; and this made the 
 little more precious to him, than the abundance which 
 Esau possessed, and respecting which, it was doubtful 
 whether he possessed it in wrath or from favor. Da- 
 vid preferred spending a day in the courts of God's 
 house, to a thousand in the tabernacles of the ungodly. 
 Israel desired the confirmation of the promised bless- 
 ing, by which, according to the assurance given to his 
 predecessor Abraham, all the nations of the earth 
 should be blessed in his seed. This he preferred to 
 everything else ; and that justly. * I have enough,' 
 said Esau ; but Jacob, ' I have abundance ; for whom 
 have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth 
 14* 
 
158 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 that I desire beside thee. Though flesh and heart fail, 
 yet God is the strength of my heart, and my portion.' 
 This confirmation was Israel's primary wish. 
 
 The second thing of which he was rendered desirous 
 was a deeper establishment in grace, greater liberty in 
 it, a greater facility in boldly resigning and committing 
 himself to it, by which he might be divested of a multi- 
 tude of anxious cares. He had received the blessing 
 from his father : he had experienced repeated confir- 
 mations of it from the Lord ; he had received glorious 
 promises, and the most striking proofs of his kind pro- 
 vidence and goodness ; but all this had not produced 
 the effect upon his state of mind, befitting such gracious 
 intimations. He was still subject to much anxiety and 
 fear respecting Esau. One would be inclined to think 
 and say, ' How is it possible, that with such marks of 
 favor, and after such experience, he could still be ap- 
 prehensive that Esau might slay him, together with his 
 children, since the promise of God would then be ren- 
 dered void ?" Jacob was fully sensible how painful 
 and unbecoming this was, without being able to alter 
 it 5 and felt compelled to apply to God in prayer, that, 
 together with the promise, he would grant him the 
 ability duly to co-operate with it. 
 
 Such is also frequently the case with the Christian. 
 After having been so often enabled to receive the pro- 
 mise of the Gospel, and Jesus Christ himself, with joy- 
 ful confidence, and to swear, ' In the Lord have I 
 righteousness and strength ;' after having been a hun- 
 dred times translated from darkness to light, and from 
 pressure into peace ; after having been most firmly as- 
 
SERMON X. 159 
 
 sured of his having been received into favor, and fre- 
 quently inundated with consolation, and been so often 
 able to trust in the Lord, that he will surely perform 
 what he has promised, he becomes in some measure 
 ashamed of always doubting of his reception to favor, 
 as he did at the beginning : yet still he possesses no 
 real peace and rest for his soul, and cannot yet fully 
 commit himself, with filial confidence and resignation, 
 to God, and all his concerns to the Lord, and still feels 
 occasionally fear and anxiety. There are many, in- 
 deed, who think it cannot be otherwise here below ; 
 and that every one must satisfy himself with it as well 
 as he is able. There are also others who have a supe- 
 rior idea of grace. They know, beyond a doubt, that 
 grace is more powerful than sin ; that the heart may 
 be established with grace ; that the knowledge of Jesus 
 Christ may be exceedingly abundant, so as to cause us 
 to count all things but loss for it ; that the law of the 
 Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, may make us free from 
 the law of sin and death ; that we may be purged 
 from an evil conscience, and that we may find rest for 
 our souls. ; that from being children we may become 
 men and fathers in Christ, and that our hearts may be 
 knit together in love, unto all the riches of the full as- 
 surance of understanding, to the acknowledgement of 
 the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ, 
 in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and know- 
 ledge. In short, the individual is compelled to form no 
 mean, but great ideas of a really evangelical and New 
 Testament state of grace, with respect to enlightening 
 peace, sanctification, and power, as is only just and rea- 
 
160 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 sonable. And not only so, but he also feels a power- 
 ful hunger and thirst after righteousness -after this per- 
 fect liberty, faith, and love ; and finds himself compelled 
 to declare with Jacob, ' I will not let thee go, except 
 thou bless me.' 
 
 It is therefore no longer single, transient enlighten- 
 ings and seasons of refreshment which he desires, but a 
 dwelling and abiding of Christ in the heart, a walking 
 before him and in him, and a being rooted in him. Be 
 it that the soul is not clearly conscious of this ; yet still 
 there is an impelling principle of the Spirit of God 
 within her, which desires, with David, to be translated 
 out of a strait place into a large room. Thus it mani- 
 fested itself also in the disciples, when they prayed, 
 4 Lord, increase our faith !' ' Lord, teach us how to 
 pray !' because they could no longer be satisfied with 
 their former mode of believing and praying. ' Lord, 
 shew us the Father, and it sufficeth us,' said they ; and 
 Jesus promised them the Holy Spirit, who should satisfy 
 all their desire. Paul was not satisfied with the be- 
 lieving Corinthians, but calls them babes and carnal ; 
 nor with the Hebrew Christians, ' for when for the time 
 they ought to have been teachers, they needed that one 
 should teach them again, which were the first princi- 
 ples of the oracles of God.' He says to the Galatians, 
 that he must travail again in birth with them, until 
 Christ be formed in them. Christ reproves his disciples 
 for being so devoid of understanding ; and Peter says, 
 i Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and 
 Savior Jesus Christ.' 
 
 No one, however, can add one cubit to his stature, 
 
SERMON X. 161 
 
 nor make a hair white or black. Without Jesus, be- 
 lievers can do nothing, not even think any thing good. 
 It is God that worketh in us both to will and to do that 
 which is well pleasing to him. Our nature is never to 
 be trusted, however pious it may appear to be, and then 
 even the least of all ; for from motives of mere self-love 
 and self-complacency it may seek to grow and be some- 
 thing superior ; hence also it is said, ' Mind not high 
 things.' We ought not to take pleasure in ourselves. 
 Our self-love is shrewd enough to take pleasure in 
 making a display of gifts, grace, and a lofty standing, 
 to regard them as a prey, and to let itself be seen by 
 others in such array. It will gladly pass with Simon 
 the sorcerer for some great one. This desire to become 
 something may be the motive for much labor, effort, 
 and diligence, in things which in themselves are holy 
 and good ; and a long time may elapse before the in- 
 dividual himself perceives it. We may be, or seek to 
 be, superior Christians in our own eyes or those of others, 
 and yet it may all be nothing ; for what is highly es- 
 teemed among men is an abomination in the sight of 
 God But the gracious path he takes, is always that 
 of bringing to nought that which is, in order that he 
 may be all in all. 
 
 When was Jacob blest ? When did he receive the 
 new and glorious name ? WTien was he commended ? 
 Only after the wondrous conflict. And what occurred 
 in the latter ? Did he heroine increasingly stronger? 
 Thus we naturally imagine it ; and, according to our 
 opinion, such is the mode of procedure. First, the in- 
 dividual succumbs under the power of his adversaries ; 
 
162 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 he then begins to struggle ; whilst doing so, he in- 
 creases in strength ; at length he rises up, and treads 
 his foe beneath his feet. Such is the idea reason forms 
 of it. But with Israel, the case was entirely reversed. 
 He begun the contest with his whole strength ; which 
 however gradually decreased; at length it entirely 
 disappeared when his hip was dislocated. The con- 
 flict did not indeed cease then, but was changed into 
 an entirely different method of warfare, which consisted 
 in his throwing himself upon the neck of his opponent, 
 who now became his only support. And the very mo- 
 ment when his strength forsook him, his wondrous an- 
 tagonist saw that he could not prevail over Jacob, and 
 declared himself vanquished. This is extremely 
 strange ; but the ways of the Lord are right. Thus the 
 Lord continues to annihilate that in his children which 
 is, that he may be all in all. 
 
 On the whole, we must recollect, that real, genuine 
 religion consists in a very essential experience of sin 
 and grace, of our own misery and God's glory, of our 
 own weakness and God's strength, of our own blind- 
 ness and God's wisdom ; and remember, at the same 
 time, that in reality we understand nothing more of it 
 than what we experience. We must learn to know 
 that God has interwoven the cross into all his providen- 
 tial dealings, and that the old man gradually bleeds to 
 death upon it under them. The Scriptures speak of a 
 salutary crucifixion and a dying with Christ, as well 
 as a rising and being made alive again with him. 
 Even as the latter is something very sacred and glo- 
 rious so the former, on the contrary, like every other 
 
SERMON XI. 163 
 
 mode of being put to death, cannot take place without 
 anxiety and distress, as little as Jacob's conflict could 
 be carried on without pain and tears. Before Israel 
 was delivered out of Egypt, their distress a had reached 
 its height ; and Paul always bore about him the dying 
 of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Christ might also be 
 manifested in him. 
 
 When the disciples were about to be elevated to a 
 higher state of grace, enlightening faith, and sanctifi- 
 cation, their souls fell previously into great spiritual 
 travail at the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ, 
 in which they wept and mourned. It is extremely 
 easy to talk of religious subjects and exalted states, 
 and self-love can take great pleasure in so doing. 
 But where essential grace exists, there all that is mere 
 talk infallibly ceases; because all foundation for it 
 is taken away, and if the individual be inclined to 
 glory, it must be in his weakness. ' I thank thee 
 that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me and help- 
 est me.' A life of believing dependence, in which 
 the individual boasts only of the Lord, is in truth 
 and reality a rare phenomena. 
 
 Now if the Lord has wrought in a soul an ardent 
 hunger after a genuine state of grace, he conducts.it 
 thither in the way which is best pleasing to him ; 
 and, by means which his manifold wisdom selects for 
 the purpose means and ways which mostly seem to 
 Reason any thing else than suitable, and appear to 
 her ever the very reverse. For they are in conform- 
 ity to the saying, ' He that humbleth himself shall be 
 exalted.' Reason, which is blind in the ways of God, 
 
164 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 hopes to become increasingly richer and stronger in 
 itself, and to require less and less the help of the Lord. 
 But it is just the contrary ! Christ increasingly be- 
 comes the one and the all, the Alpha and Omega, the 
 first and the last ; so that out of him, we can neither 
 believe nor love, neither think nor desire anything 
 good, neither hope nor be patient ; and yet we are able 
 to do all this, and even more, through Christ which 
 strengthened us. Thus Jacob also, in the end, could 
 neither stand nor walk. And it is then that praying 
 without ceasing becomes easy to us, and that all that 
 is necessary to life and to godliness is given without 
 ceasing to us, and that the Christian has nothing, yet 
 possesses all things, is weak and yet strong, is nothing, 
 and hence is ablfc to do all things. 
 
 The Lord blessed Jacob. This was an actual reply 
 to Israel's question, ' Tell me, I pray thee, What is thy 
 name ?' The Patriarch experienced it internally. His 
 former fear departed from his soul, like the dawning of 
 the day expels the shades of night. Even as by its 
 pleasing light the refreshing dew descends upon the 
 grass so a heavenly peace descended soothingly into 
 the distressed soul of the weary Patriarch. The wild 
 animals retired into their caves, and instead of their 
 horrifying roar, the birds of heaven chanted their morn- 
 ing hymn, and Jacob's terrific idea of ruin and destruc- 
 tion dissolved into confident hope. The thought of 
 threatening Esau and his four hundred men, no longer 
 terrified him ; he was overcome ; and Jacob, more de- 
 fenceless than yesterday, was to day, although lame, as 
 bold as a young lion. He no longer needed to look at 
 
SERMON X. 165 
 
 the armed host. He knew in whom he believed, 
 though Esau were to march against him with four 
 thousand instead of four hundred men. His heart was 
 enlarged in peaceful confidence in his God. 
 
 Thus the Lord blessed him, not in word, but by an 
 essential impart at ion of his inward grace, which far ex- 
 ceeds all reason. 
 
 O glorious communication, more precious than if his 
 mind had been refreshed by words, and literal promises, 
 the effect of which is seldom wont to be of long dura- 
 tion ! . O what mercy, when it is not single alleviations 
 that are vouchsafed to us, and which are soon followed 
 by new distresses ; but when it is given us to ' come 
 up out of the wilderness like pillars of perfume,' and 
 to lean upon our beloved ; and when it is said, " How 
 beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince's daughter !" 
 What mercy, when it is granted us in future to act in 
 a becoming manner towards' the Friend of our souls, 
 and to come boldly to the mercy seat ; quietly to walk 
 forwards in the profoundest poverty of Spirit, in genu- 
 ine sincerity and complete faith ; and when our state is 
 like that olBhe Apostle, described in the words, * I am 
 crucified with Christ. Now I live; yet not I, but 
 Christ liveth in me ; and tin- life which I now live in 
 the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who 
 loved me, and gave himself for me.' 
 
 In this blessing, every thing is comprehended which 
 is requisite for our commencement and progress, and our 
 awakening and deeper establishment ; in a word, the 
 essential appropriation, by the Holy Spirit, of the bless- 
 ings of salvation purchased by Christ, and the Holy 
 15 
 
166 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 Spirit himself. When Jesus, at the close of his resi- 
 dence on earth, and as a pre-intimation of his employ- 
 ment in heaven, lifted up his hands, and blessed his dis- 
 ciples, they no longer hid themselves behind closed 
 doors from fear of the Jews ; they began to praise and 
 give thanks ; they assembled together openly of one ac- 
 cord in the temple, for prayer and supplication. Thus 
 the Lord first awakened in the mind of the Patriarch an 
 urgent craving after the blessing, so that he could af- 
 firm and say, f I will not let thee go, except thou bless 
 me.' The Lord then let him wait awhile, that he might 
 be the more profoundly conscious, that it is not of him 
 that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that 
 sheweth mercy; and in order that he might be the 
 more completely emptied of all his own activity : and - 
 then he blessed him there, on the very spot .where he 
 had been obliged to wrestle. Hence the place became 
 very memorable to him, and he called it Peniel the 
 face of God. 
 
 It was indeed worth the while; for such a blessing 
 is every thing. In earthly things it causes the seed to 
 grow, the fruit of the vine not to deceit the hope, 
 business to succeed, and prevents loss and injury ; for 
 the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ; 
 ability 'is not sufficient for the procuring of a mainten- 
 ance, nor prudence for the acquisition of wealth. If 
 the Lord do not build the house, they labor in vain 
 that build it ; unless the Lord keep the city, the watch- 
 man waketh in vain. It is in vain to rise up early, to 
 sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows; for he giveth it 
 his beloved sleeping. In vain thou weariest thyself in 
 
SERMON X. 167 
 
 tht- multitude of thy ways, and takest thought in vain 
 to add one cubit to thy stature. But the Lord's bless- 
 ing maketh rich, and addeth no sorrow with it : every- 
 thing then comes as of itself. ' Bless me also/ cried 
 Esau, and yet did not obtain the blessing ; as a proof 
 that even earnest and real longing after the blessing is 
 the Lord's work in the soul. Ah, Esau the elder still 
 to have the blessing, and to be something great 
 and powerful : SL t-ks to compel God to regulate the 
 way of salvation according as he thinks best, and to be 
 righteous and perfect in himself. But in this he will 
 never succeed ; he will not obtain the blessing, how- 
 ever much he may murmur and complain. The less, 
 the younger, the new man receives it, but only when 
 the hip of self is dislocated, when it is at length said to 
 him, ' I have chosen thee, thou .art mine.' 
 
 To Him be the kingdom, and the power, and the 
 "lory, for ever and ever ! Amen. 
 
SERMON XL 
 
 IT was an unparalleled, wonderful, and incredible 
 method, in reference to ' which it is impossible to find 
 language sufficiently glorifying to God, that king Je- 
 hoshaphat employed, when he went forth to war, and 
 gained the victory ; on which occasion it pleased God 
 to manifest his glory in such an extremely striking man- 
 ner, as we read in 2 Chron. xx. 
 
 In the enemy's great superiority of power, which 
 constrained Jehoshaphat to confess and say, ' We have 
 no might against this great company that cometh 
 against us ;' and which placed him in such a dilemma 
 that he exclaimed, e Neither know we what to do ;' and 
 which urged him to call upon God, saying, ' Our eyes 
 are upon thee ;' we see, at the same time, the object of 
 all the afflictions through which we are called to pass. 
 We are by them to be rendered lowly, little, nothing, 
 impotent, and helpless, and to give God the glory ; 
 even as Jehoshaphat said, ' Wilt thou not judge them V 
 How desirable, that we should also be brought, from 
 heartfelt conviction, to say, ( We have no might ;' and 
 be enabled at the same time to lift up our eyes unto 
 the hills, from whence cometh our help. How admira- 
 ble is the power of faith ! Its basis is the promise, 
 * Thus saith the Lord.' Its object is God: ' The battle 
 s not yours, but God's.' Its effect is peace and com- 
 
SERMON XI. 169 
 
 posure : * Ye shall not need to fight in this battle ; set 
 yourselves, stand ye still, and see the salvation of the 
 Lord, who is .with you J' It also produces deep humili- 
 ty. The king prostrates himself with his whole peo- 
 ple. It excites to thanksgiving and praise, and the 
 ground of thankfulness is this, * His mercy endureth for- 
 ever.' It terminates in compile victory. Behold 
 what power God can give toi Osc, in whom there is 
 no might, and who know not ^R at they ought to do. 
 He can enable them still to believe in the Lord, and to 
 feel safe, when everything appears against them ; and 
 can cause them to thank and praise ' with a loud voice 
 on high,' not merely after having obtained the victory, 
 but even before the commencement of the fight; for the 
 Lord is wonderful in his believing people, and glorious 
 in his saints. 
 
 Oh, if we could only ^believe, and do nothing else but 
 believe ! For all things are possible to him that be- 
 lieveth. But this is only learnt in those paths in which 
 Jehoshaphat learned it : ' Not in us, but in thy hand is 
 the might and the power.' In this manner the Pa- 
 triarch Jacob also learned it 
 
 15* 
 
170 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 GENESIS XXXII. 30, 31. 
 
 And Jacob called the name of the place Peniel ; for I have seen 
 God face to face, and my life is preserved. And as he pass- 
 ed over Peniel, the sun rose upon him, and he halted upon 
 his thigh. 
 
 THE Lord had blessed Jacob ; therefore he now let 
 him go. He inwardly felt, that though the Lord might 
 visibly disappear from him, yet he remained with him 
 and in him. Such was also the case with the disciples 
 at the ascension of Jesus. He departed from them bo- 
 dily, but spiritually and essentially he remained with 
 them, and continues with us even to the end of the 
 world. And of this we are conscious from his Spirit. 
 which he hath given us ; and from the peace, joy, and 
 power, which operate in us. 
 
 The whole affair with Jacob deserved a memorial. 
 He instituted this, by giving a new name to the place 
 where this remarkable event occurred. Nature pre- 
 sented him with an emblem of it the rising sun ; and 
 he had a memento of it in his own body he was lame. 
 
 The Son of God had given Jacob a new name. The 
 Patriarch could not apply a new name to God in re- 
 turn, since his goodness is every morning new, ever 
 alike fresh and lovely. He therefore gave the place 
 a new and suitable name, by calling it Peniel that is, 
 the face of God. He explained what he meant by this 
 new name, by adding, f I have seen God face to face ;' 
 and the effect of this was, ' My life is preserved.' But 
 God himself instituted a memorial of the event, which 
 shall last as long as the world stands, by causing it to 
 
SERMON XI. 171 
 
 be recorded by His servant Moses, and to be called -to 
 mind by the Prophet Hosea. But what am I saying ? 
 as long as the world stands ? To all eternity will 
 Jacob himself be" a memorial of this event ; and even 
 as he was so here by his lameness, so he will be there 
 by his glory. 
 
 Peniel. This world possesses many uncommonly 
 glorious places. The natural man finds those the most 
 remarkable, where Nature manifests herself in peculiar 
 splendor and majesty; where lofty mountains yield 
 delightful prospects, and smiling plains exhibit the 
 blessings of heaven ; where majestic rivers roll along, 
 or the wide ocean expands itself like an eternity before 
 the eye, which seeks in vain its limit. The scientific 
 man lingers with pleasure on the monuments of ancient 
 and modern art; he gazes with admiration at the 
 enormous dome which ancient times reared heaven- 
 wards, or is ravished with the productions of the 
 painter or the statuary, which animate, as it were, the 
 lifeless canvass and the solid marble. He admires the 
 magnificence and beauty of princely palaces, and lin- 
 gers astonished at the works of art. The historian 
 loses himself in reflection, when visiting the scene of 
 former important events ; when coming in sight of an- 
 cient Rome, with all its reminiscences ; or when upon 
 a field, where memorable battles have been fought 
 Who, at this present period, does not think with admi- 
 ration of Wittenberg, and its royal chapel ; of the 
 Wartburg, of Zurich and Geneva, and of the names of 
 Luther, Zuinglius, and Calvin, because they remind us 
 of a multiplicity of events connected with them ? 
 
172 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 The Christian has also his memorable spots and 
 places in the world ; Bethlehem, Capernaum, Jerusa- 
 lem, Calvary, and the Mount of Olives, are these re- 
 markable spots. Formerly they were* personally visited 
 by the piously superstitious pilgrim, whilst his heart, 
 perhaps, was far from God. His bodily eye saw the 
 remarkable places, whilst the eye of his Spirit, remain- 
 ed closed against the wonders which there took place 
 for the salvation of sinners. His feet wandered in what 
 is called the Holy Land, where Abraham once sojourn- 
 ed ; which the Son of God touched with his sacred 
 feet, and even with his face ; which he bedewed with 
 his tears, his bloody sweat, and his atoning Wood ; in 
 which his lifeless body slumbered three days, and 
 where he again rose to heaveh from whence he had 
 come down. There the foot of many a pilgrim wan- 
 ders, whilst it is not given him to walk in the steps of 
 faithful Abraham, and to know the way of peace 
 nay, whilst rejecting the Son of God, by thinking to 
 render his own works effectual as an atonement for his 
 sins. These places are Peniels to believers, revelations 
 of the glory of God, since his faith and love find the 
 pastures of eternal life in that which there took place. 
 And has not every Christian his particular Peniels, in 
 which God revealed himself to him in an especial man- 
 ner 1 his closet, a sermon, a book, a company, a 
 solitary hour, and the like, which continue ever memo- 
 rable to him. 
 
 Jacob called this remarkable place Peniel not as a 
 memorial of himself, nor of that which he had there 
 performed and accomplished : but of that which he had 
 
SERMON XI. 173 
 
 apprehended and experienced of God, arid of the gra- 
 cious benefit bestowed upon him. You see here the 
 character of all God's children. The world is proud, 
 and boasts that she has done this or accomplished that ; 
 she desires to be regarded and commended for it, and to 
 be honored for zeal, prudence, and ability. Her own 
 glory is her aim, and the being denied it her most sen- 
 sible mortification. Like the Pharisee in the Gospel, 
 she ascribes it to herself, that she is not this and that, 
 and that she is and does the other ; she will not give 
 her glory to another, and feels much offended if any one 
 seeks to possess it in her stead. Even when the Son 
 of God says, ' Without me ye can do nothing,' he has 
 only contradiction to expect from her ; and when Paul 
 says, * Not of yourselves, it is the gift of God,' the proud 
 world is insulted by it. The Lord knows how to pro- 
 duce a different effect in his children, even though he 
 be obliged to deprive them of their strength. He does 
 so, in order that if any one will glory, he may glory in 
 his weakness, and in the Lord ; and that all glorying in 
 himself, may cease and perish. 
 
 Jacob gives the reason for the appellation of this 
 place in the words, * For I have seen God, face to face.' 
 Here we find a complete explanation who it was who 
 wrestled with Jacob, dislocated his thigh, gave him a 
 new name, and blessed him. It was not a mere angel. 
 With these Jacob was well acquainted. During his 
 flight with his brother, when sleeping solitarily in a 
 wilderness upon the earth, with a stone under his head 
 for a pillow, he saw in a dream the angels of God as- 
 cending and descending upon a ladder, on the top of 
 
174 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 which stood the Lord himself;' on his return, lie was 
 again met by two hosts of angels, and he called the 
 place where this occurred, Mahanaim. Here, however, 
 it was no created angel, but God himselfthat person 
 in the Divine Being, who- is called the Messiah, ( the 
 sent of God,' Jesus Christ, who in the fulness of time 
 was really manifested in 'flesh and blood. If we ask, 
 by what it was that Jacob perceived with such certain- 
 ty that it was a Divine person with whom he had to do, 
 we answer, He was assured of it in the same mysteri- 
 ous manner, .as the weeping Magdalen at the sepulchre 
 was assured by the .single word, ' Mary !' that it was 
 not the gardener, but Jesus himself, who was' convers- 
 ing with her; and as the disciples on the sea of Tibe- 
 rias were, so perfectly convinced it was ,the Lord, that 
 none of them needed to ask him, ' Who art thou?' 
 * The Spirit beareth witness -that the Spirit' is truth' 
 (1 John v. 6.) The Christian's conviction is some- 
 thing peculiar. It is a consciousness that it is really so, 
 a certain confidence which does not and cannot doubt ; 
 whilst, on the contrary, a mere human belief thinks, it 
 may be so, or may be otherwise. 
 
 Jacob now said, ' I have seen God face to face.' Paul 
 calls God, ' The Invisible' (1 Tim. i. 17;) and in ch. 
 vi. 16, he says, e God dwelleth in a light, which no man 
 can approach unto ; whom ho man hath seen, or can 
 see.' Still, we read in Exod. xxiv. 9, 10, that Aaron 
 and his sons, and the seventy elders of Israel, were or- 
 dered to ascend Mount Sinai, and worship afar off. But 
 Moses alone drew near" to the Lord. And when they, 
 went up (ver. 10) c They saw the God of Israel ; and 
 
SERMON XI. 175 
 
 there was under his feet, as it were, a paved work of a 
 sapphire stone (which is azure, with golden spots,) and 
 as it were the body of heaven in its clearness." Isaiah 
 also saw the Lord ' sitting on a throne, high and lifted 
 up, and his train filled the temple' (chap, vi.) ; and he 
 whom he saw was Jesus Christ, as we see from John 
 xii. 41. 
 
 The people of Israel sinned by idolatry, soon after 
 the giving of the law. When Moses came down from 
 the Mount, and saw and heard with what tumultuous 
 joy the people worshiped the golden calf, he dashed in 
 pieces, in his anger, the two tables of the law, which he 
 had brought with him from Mount Sinai, and on which 
 God himself had written the commandments ; he was par- 
 ticularly irritated against his brother Aaron, who made 
 the calf ; but to the people he said, ' Ye have sinned a 
 great sin ; and now I will go up unto the Lord, perad- 
 venture I shall make an atonement for your sin, he as- 
 rendrd the Mount, and said, ' OJx)rd, this people liave 
 sinned a great sin; yet now, forgixe their sin; but if 
 not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book, which thou 
 has written.' * What V answered the Lord, whoever 
 hath sinned against me, him will I blot out of my book. 
 Lead the people unto the place, of which I have spoken 
 unto thee ; behold mine angel shall go before thr 
 will not go up in the midst of thee ; for thou art a stiff- 
 necked people, lest I consume thee in the way.' This 
 did not please Moses, and he humbly interceded once 
 more ; and as God for some time had only called the 
 children of Israel ' the people,' Moses said, * consider 
 that this nation is thy people ;' and the Lord then de- 
 
176 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 clared, saying, * My presence shall go with thee, and 
 I will give thee rest.' Moses eagerly caught at this, 
 and said, ( If thy presence go not with me, carry us not 
 up hence. For wherein shall it be known that I and 
 thy people have found favor in thy sight, except thou 
 goest with us ? And the Lord said unto Moses, I will 
 do this thing alo that thou hast spoken, for thou hast 
 found grace in my sight, and I know thee by name.' 
 This emboldened Moses so much, that he said,' ' I be- 
 seech thee, shew me thy glory V The Lord answered, 
 * I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I 
 will proclaim the name of the Lord before thee ; and I 
 will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and I will 
 shew mercy on whom I will shew mercy. But thou 
 canst not see my face ; for there shall no man see me 
 and live. But thou shalt see my back-parts.' And 
 thus Moses beheld the glory of the Lord from behind, 
 and the face of Moses shone in consequence, so that the 
 children of Israel could not look at him without a veil. 
 
 Jacob also said ,,5 1 have seen God face to face.' But 
 in reality he only saw the human form which the Lord 
 had assumed for a season. In the fulness of time, he 
 took upon him our nature, in personal union with his 
 Divine. The infinite surrounded himself with bounds, 
 and the invisible became visible God became man. 
 Without controversy, great is the mystery. With what 
 rapture shall all his elect eventually behold him, be 
 like him, and see him as he is ! i Blessed are the pure 
 in heart, for they shall see God.' 
 
 But even here below there is a seeing God in grace, 
 in a spiritual manner, and superior to sense. 
 
SERMON XI. 177 
 
 The earth, the sky with its splendid and majestic 
 the beauty of the spring, the blossoming trees, 
 tht- waving corn-fields, the rolling of the thunder in the 
 clouds, the genial dew all remind us of an overruling 
 providence. But Job at length says, after the Lord had 
 taught him from a whirlwind, i I formerly heard thee 
 with the hearing of the ear ; but now mine eye seeth 
 thee ;' and the consequence was, * Therefore I abhor 
 myself, and repent in dust and ashes.' Hence the 
 knowledge that Job obtained after his affliction was 
 more profound and perfect than before ; even as we 
 receive a much clearer idea of a thing, which we see 
 with our eyes, than by merely hearing of it. 
 
 Such was also, the case with Jacob. Distinguished 
 light had risen upon him by means of this conflict, such 
 as he had never possessed before. He became much 
 more intimately acquainted with his God than previous- 
 ly ; even as when we see the face of some one whom 
 we had only known before from report. Now if it be 
 eternal life to know the .true God, and Jesus Christ 
 whom ho hath sent ; if life consist in righteousness, 
 peace, and joy, he had evidently increased in all these 
 in a remarkable manner ; Christ in the struggle, had 
 become more perfectly formed within him, although 
 painful distress had preceded it. ' In thy light we see 
 light,' says David, and prays : t Open thou mine eyes, 
 that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law.' 
 He also confesses that the law of the Lord is perfect, 
 rejoicing the heart, and making wise the simple. But 
 Peter says, ' Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of 
 our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ' Now this is not 
 16 
 
178 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 accomplished by reflection, studying and reading ; by 
 these the head may indeed be filled with orthodox 
 thoughts and ideas ; but this, as Paul says, is only ' the 
 form of sound words.' It is like undigested food, which 
 may indeed puff up, but cannot strengthen or nourish. 
 Hence the same apostle says, * Knowledge puffeth up, 
 but love edifieth.' The instruction which Jesus imparts, 
 is given us by the Holy Spirit on the path of experi- 
 ence, by means of a variety of providential dispensa- 
 tions, afflictions, consolations, impartations and priva- 
 tions, disturbance and peace, strength and weakness. 
 Thus he teaches sinners in the way, he guides the meek 
 aright, and teacheth the humble his way. It is thus 
 that he instructs them respecting sin and grace, until 
 with Job they are able to renounce themselves entirely, 
 and give God all the glory ; the path which was rug- 
 ged before, then becomes straight and even. 
 
 Jacob then also mentions the effect of this seeing 
 God, and adds, ' My life is preserved.' 
 
 He was delivered. His former state was an oppres- 
 sive one fightings without, and fears within. Esau 
 with his four hundred men terrified him. His faith was 
 weak ; his courage small ; joy had departed from his 
 soul, and clouds of sorrow darkened his mind, which 
 vented themselves in tears. That night had been the 
 most painful and distressing one he had ever spent ; 
 he saw nothing but death before him, which Esau had 
 sworn concerning him, and he knew that he was not 
 to be trifled with. It seemed as if God himself had 
 given him over unto death, when he commanded him 
 to return out of Mesopotamia. He had recourse by 
 
SERMON IV. 179 
 
 prayor to that God, who had hitherto blessed and pro- 
 tected him, in order to pour out his fears and his distress 
 before him, and to entreat his deliverance. He knew 
 not by what means he would help him. But what be- 
 fel him during prayer ? We know already. A man 
 struggled with him in such a manner as to dislocate his 
 thigh. 
 
 Thus the Lord exercises his people by a variety of 
 afflictions ; not unfrequently in such a manner as to 
 cause them to think they must despair and perish, and 
 really would do so, did not the Lord sustain them, in a 
 faithful and confident manner, although imperceptible 
 to themselves ; nay, to say the truth, they really do pe- 
 rish and despair that is, with reference to themselves ; 
 so that, on their part, they are compelled to exclaim, 
 ' We perish !' and are deprived of the power to believe, 
 and hope ; even as Jacob was not only stripped of the 
 ability to defend himself, but also even to flee. Such 
 situations are, indeed, no pastime ; as Jacob also found 
 it. But the end of the ways of God is better than their 
 beginning ; exaltation follows humiliation, and life fol- 
 lows death. 
 
 Thus it proved also in Jacob's case. ' My life is 
 preserved,' said he. He now felt very different He 
 was like the eagle, who renews his youth, whose fea- 
 thers grow again, so that he can again elevate himself 
 upon his pinions and soar aloft to hover in the rays of 
 the sun. His confidence in God was quickened, and his 
 whole soul was tranquilized so that he could boldly 
 look around him. Fear had departed, and he was ena- 
 bled confidently to appear before Esau. He had all, 
 and abounded. 
 
180 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 Such a pleasing reverse is promised in numberless 
 passages ; ' I will see you again, and your heart shall 
 rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you ;' ' I will 
 comfort thee as a mother comforteth her child ;' ' I will 
 strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee ; yea, I will uphold 
 thee with the right hand of my righteousness ;' and many 
 more such promises. They are also faithfully fulfilled in 
 all those whom the Lord humbles ; and hence, it is said, 
 c Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that 
 he may exalt you in due time.' My heart rejoices at thy 
 willingness to help. I will praise the Lord for his mer- 
 cies towards me. He hath preserved my soul from 
 death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. 
 Bless the Lotd, O my soul ! and all that is within me, 
 bless His holy name ! Bless the Lord, and forget not 
 all his benefits !' Thus the same David rejoiced, who 
 had uttered so many complaints. Thus, many a child 
 of God is able to rejoice ; and what exultation, and 
 blessing, and praise will there be, when they shall ar- 
 rive in heaven out of all their tribulation, after having 
 washed their robes and made them white in the blood 
 of the Lamb ! 
 
 But what praise to the glory of Divine grace is ex- 
 cited, even here below, in those favored souls who can 
 exult with David, and say, ' The Lord hath delivered 
 me from all my fears;' who possess peace in the Lord 
 in an uniform and permanent manner, although in the 
 world they may have tribulation ; and who have at- 
 tained the great grace of being able to rejoice in the 
 Lord always, and to exclaim in the spirit of adoption,, 
 ' Abba, Father !' happy souls, who are redeemed 
 
SERMON XI. 181 
 
 from the servile spirit of bondage, delivered from the 
 fear of death, made free by the law of the Spirit of life 
 in Christ Jesus, from the law of sin ; and who serve 
 God, not according to the letter, but in the Spirit. 
 These are the glorious, results of beholding the glory of 
 God in the face of Jesus Christ, by the Holy Spirit. 
 
 If we wish to enter into the full meaning of Jacob's 
 expression, we must remember that he really expressed 
 himself in his language as follows: " I am preserved, 
 and shall be preserved ;" so that he was animated by a 
 vigorous confidence with respect to the future. The 
 Lord had said to him, * Thou hast had power ;' or more 
 correctly speaking, ' Thou wilt be enabled to prevail.' 
 Now, here is the echo of faith : " I am preserved, and 
 shall be preserved ! although new tribulations may be- 
 fall me, according to the will of God ; yet, I shall be 
 preserved, and at length he will deliver me from all 
 evil, and bring me to his glorious kingdom ; of this I 
 am assured, for I know in whom I have believed.' 
 
 God performs what he promises. He faithfully help- 
 ed Jacob through everything, although he had to ex- 
 perience many grievous trials ; one of the most painful 
 of which was, the supposed death of his favorite son, 
 Joseph, whom he was told a wild beast had devoured, 
 on his being sent out by him ; respecting which he 
 doubtless reproached himself bitterly, as having com- 
 mitted a great piece of thoughtlessness, and on whose 
 account he mourned long, until this also cleared itself 
 up in an unexpected and glorious manner. Whether 
 Jacob, under all these circumstances, was able with the 
 same serenity to say, ' I shall be preserved,' I know not. 
 16* 
 
182 THE WRESTLING OF JACOB. 
 
 From his long mourning over Joseph, and his declara- 
 tion, ' that if mischief befell Benjamin by the way, then 
 shall ye bring down my grey hairs with sorrow to the 
 grave,' the contrary may be inferred ; as also from his 
 exaggerated statements to his sons, who wished to take 
 Benjamin with them into Egypt. Me ye have be- 
 reaved of my children/ said he ; ( Joseph is not, and 
 Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away ; all 
 these things are against me.' And when his sons, on 
 a previous occasion, had committed the shameful mur- 
 der of the Shechemites, he was again afraid, and said, 
 6 1 being few in number, they will -gather themselves to- 
 gether against me, and slay me, and I shall be destroy- 
 ed, and mine house.' Where is now thy faith ? it 
 might be asked. But this also tends much to the glory 
 of God, and to prove that he is alone good, and that 
 we without him can do nothing. In the joy of his 
 heart, and in the enjoyment, of Divine gifts, the man 
 probably imagines that his mountain stands so strong, 
 that he will never be moved. And why does he sup- 
 pose so ? Because he secretly thinks that he himself 
 has become something, and imagines he is in possession 
 of the faith &c., for which he has so long supplicated. 
 But it may still be the case with him, that like Jacob 
 he looks at himself, and is afraid lest his powerful foes 
 should at length destroy him and his whole house. O 
 how much has God to do with us, in order to bring us 
 into true poverty of spirit, and to keep us in it ! We 
 are invariably desirous of becoming something in our- 
 selves of growing, being strong, and able in ourselves. 
 Hence the Lord is continually obliged to convince us of 
 
SERMON XI. 183 
 
 our poverty and misery ; yet all this would avail noth- 
 ing, if he did not himself enable some souls to ascribe 
 to him the kingdom, the power, and the glory ; and to 
 regard themselves in truth and reality as nothing, even 
 in the possession of abundance of gifts ; and at the same 
 time to believe in reality and with serenity, and to be 
 satisfied that in Christ dwells all the fulness of the God- 
 head bodily. It is true indeed, that no one can receive 
 anything, or retain it, except it be given him from above. 
 
 The sun now rose. This splendid spectacle in nature 
 was also an image of that which had passed in the 
 soul of the Patriarch. The night had disappeared. A 
 lovely morning dawned. It rose upon him. The Sun 
 of Righteousness and the Day-spring from on high, was 
 at length to arise upon them that sat in darkness and 
 the shadow of death, to guide their feet into the way of 
 peace. may this Sun rise ; may it rise upon us with 
 its healing beams ; may it rise upon all who call 
 themselves Christians upon the posterity of Israel 
 upon the whole world ! 
 
 And Jacob halted upon his thigh. Every step re- 
 minded him of the great mercy of the Lord, and at the 
 same time of his own nothingness. Every step exalted 
 and humbled him. And when others heard his name 
 and saw his lameness, they would also be reminded that 
 the Lord condescends more graciously to his people, 
 than it might be supposed. To him be glory for ever. 
 Amen. 
 
SOLOMON AND SHULAMITE. 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 ON THE BOOK OF CANTICLES. 
 
SOLOMON AND SHULAMITE. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 SOLOMON'S SONG in. 1 4. 
 
 By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth : 1 
 sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go 
 about the city ; in the streets and in the broad ways, } 
 n-itl seek him whom my soul loveth : I sought linn, but 1 
 found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found 
 me : to whom I said, Saw ye him whom my soul loveth ? It 
 was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him 
 H'hom my soul loveth : I held him and would not let him go, 
 until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the 
 chamber of her that conceived me. 
 
 THE Bride, the Church of the Lord, or the individual 
 believing Soul, opens to us in the text the treasury of 
 her spiritual experience, and displays to us glimpses of 
 her inward conflicts, to which some amongst us will, 
 doubtless, find a key in their own Christian experience. 
 O how deep and important the truth unfolded to our 
 view in the narration of the Bride ! That which binds 
 us to Christ should not only be the sweet savor of his 
 benefits, but, moreover, the painful sense of our poverty 
 
188 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 and misery. May our meditations this day lead us to a 
 deeper insight into the meaning of this great truth. 
 With continual reference to ourselves, let us consider 
 the Bride in the fourfold state in which she appears 
 to us in the text. . 
 
 I. How she revels in spiritual abundance. 
 II. How she loseth what she had, and languishes in 
 banishment. 
 
 III. How she is engaged in a fruitless search. 
 
 IV. How she findeth, never to lose again. 
 
 I. { By night on my bed I sought him.' Sought 
 whom ? ' Him whom my soul loveth Christ, the fair- 
 est of the sons of men ; Christ, the heavenly Bride- 
 groom.' Him the complaining soul had had upon her 
 couch. Delightful figure, by which the entire blessed- 
 ness of her former state is indicated ! She had had the 
 Lord upon her couch. To have the Lord upon our 
 couch, what else can it mean, than to dwell with him 
 and in him, to have the most lively consciousness of his 
 blissful presence, to enjoy his favor, to be filled with 
 the most devout and ardent feelings of love and tender- 
 ness towards him, and with the purest joy and delight 
 in the contemplation of his person, his acts and words ! 
 To have the Lord upon our couch, what is it, but to 
 possess the assurance of his attachment and love, and 
 an inward joyful conviction of our interest in his pro- 
 mises and declarations; to be animated with devout 
 emotions, and with lively impulse to praise and magni- 
 fy him, to rejoice, and to exult in him. 
 
 Let us look back upon the declarations of the Bride in 
 
SERMON I. 189 
 
 the former verses of her song. When she exultingly 
 declared, ' The savor of thy ointments is delightful ; 
 thy name is as ointment poured forth.' When she ex- 
 rlainis, * My beloved is -to me as a cluster of carnphire 
 in the vineyards of En-gedi. Behold thou art fair, my 
 love ; behold thou art fair. As the apple-tree among 
 the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. 
 I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and 
 his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the 
 banqueting-house, and his banner over me was love. 
 Stay me with thy flagons, comfort me with apples ; for 
 I am sick of love. My beloved is mine, and I am his ; 
 he feedeth among the lilies.' As she thus sang and re- 
 joiced, and when there was melody in her heart, then 
 she had him whom her soul loved, upon her couch. 
 
 This sweet and delightful state, in which we may be 
 said to have the Lord upon our couch, is generally ex- 
 perienced in the early period of conversion. Under the 
 almighty influence of the Spirit of God, the delusions 
 that had obscured the barrenness of our heart and life, 
 gradually melt away like snow. It rends the veil of 
 self-deception ; and, before we are aware, our entire 
 destitution of peace and joy is presented to our view, 
 though we had. till then deemed ourselves full and in 
 need of nothing. We feel voids that must be filled up, 
 and spiritual wants that must be satisfied. We find it 
 is not with us as it should be, and we become deeply 
 impressed with the necessity of a change. Words and 
 actions, sentiments and pursuits, which have hitherto 
 appeared correct and good, begin to disturb us ; and we 
 feel an inward gnawing, like the worm that dieth not, 
 17 
 
190 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 and the fire that is not quenched. Then we run to and 
 fro to seek a cure, and how we may still the raging 
 thirst of the soul. But this world is not Gilead ; and 
 its reliefs, counsels, and consolations are broken cisterns, 
 that can hold no water. The stronger this feeling be- 
 comes the greater our depression and grief, till at length 
 there is an end of all joy, the sluices of sorrow are 
 opened, and laughing is turned into bitter weeping. 
 The Spirit breathes upon the soul ; the icy bands of na- 
 tural pride and impenitence begin to fall asunder, and 
 the sinner beholds his misery, divested of every cover- 
 ing. Where now shall he look for help? Behold 
 even here the work of grace ; a Hand in the cloud 
 which guides securely, and never leads astray. He 
 comes to Jesus, sighs and implores for mercy : and hav- 
 ing received an answer in his soul, that sweet season 
 commences, when, like the Bride, he has the Lord upon 
 his couch. How delightful his sensations ! What a 
 life compared with the poor miserable existence afford- 
 ed by the world ! Let us call to mind our own expe- 
 rience, when our spiritual affections possessed their 
 early freshness. We could then, like children, shed 
 tears of joyful emotion, as often as we perused the. 
 Scriptures, or reflected on the faithfulness of the Lord, 
 on his word and history. How great was then our joy, 
 when we heard his name preached, and his people bear 
 testimony to his faithfulness 1 With what ardor we 
 were filled when his praises were sung ; with what fer- 
 vor we prayed, with what necessity, with what desire 
 and love ! How strongly were we then incited to 
 speak of him, and thought to convert the world at 
 
RMON I. 191 
 
 once, and to proclaim his name from the house tops, 
 and in the streets! Then we gloried in difficulties, 
 that we might overcome them in the strength of the 
 Lord ; and we sought for living stones, wherewith 
 lily to erect a temple to our God. How incompre- 
 hensible it appeared to us, that other Christians were so 
 .still, so calm and composed; that they did not partici- 
 pate in the fulness of our joy, or join in our triumphal 
 song ; that they even uttered sighs and complaints, 
 while we imagined that with sighing and complaining 
 wr had for ever done ! Do you still recollect this time ? 
 Then, in this sense, in which the Bride in the text 
 meant it, we had the Lord upon our couch. 
 
 This state was sweet and blessed ; but the welfare 
 of our souls required that it should not be perpetual. 
 The Lord in his own time had to lead us forth from this 
 Goshen of spiritual pleasures, from this luxurious pas- 
 ture of mental enjoyment. For did we not surely be- 
 gin to be presumptuous, considering ourselves as great 
 saints, and distinguished from others, on account of our 
 blissful serenity of soul ? Had we not begun, whilr 
 rejoicing in our wealth, to be ashamed of the beggar's 
 staff; and had not the sense of need abated, which had 
 compelled us to knock at the door of mercy, and to 
 prostrate ourselves at the rich man's gate, with the poor 
 and destitute ? Was it not in reality far more our own 
 piety and fulness of delight, on which we built and rest- 
 ed, and for which we hoped to escape condemnation, 
 than Christ and his merits? Were we not already 
 seeking the foundation of our future bliss in ourselves, 
 instead of witlwut ourselves, in Christ crucified ? And 
 
192 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 did we not love the bread with which Christ fed us, and 
 the wine which he gave us to drink, much more than 
 himself ? We loved and clung to him, it is true but 
 with what sort of love ? Was it the intense, holy, 
 stedfast love, which is grounded on the consciousness 
 that Christ is our Surety, who hath redeemed our souls 
 from hell, and rescued us from consuming fire ? Was 
 it a love based on the humiliating thought : I am not 
 worthy that the sun should shine upon me, yet Christ 
 has descended from.heaven for my sake, to save my soul 
 from hell, and to purchase it with his own life ? Was 
 it that attachment and clinging to him which spring 
 from the most lively perception of our entire destitu- 
 tion, nothingness, and impotency, and from the convic- 
 tion that it is on the grace of Christ alone we exist 
 every moment ? Oh no, so far our glance did not ex- 
 tend, neither into the abyss of our own ruin, nor into 
 the depths of the merits of Christ. We had merely 
 skimmed the pool of our misery, and the unfathomable 
 ocean of the Redeemer's love and mercy. Our love to 
 him could, therefore, be only superficial. Single sins 
 had, indeed, presented themselves to our view, but not 
 yet our entire sinfulness; this and that transgression, but 
 not the entire desolation and corruption of our heart ; 
 one deformity and another, but not the pernicious sap 
 which pervades us, not the whole image of Belial that 
 we bear within us. In one word : we had adhered to 
 Christ more for the sweet savor of his gifts, than from 
 a sense of our misery, and of His being indispensable 
 to our salvation. This w T as a lax and weak band, a love 
 which every wind of temptation might destroy -not 
 
SERMON I. 193 
 
 an ardent glow, strong as death, and unchangeable as 
 hell which many waters cannot quench. 
 
 II. But that we may attain unto that perfect state, 
 in which we cling to Christ, no longer for the mere 
 pleasure we enjoy in his presence, but because of the 
 misery we experience in ourselves ; no longer for the 
 apples and flowers with which he has regaled us, but be- 
 he is necessary to our eternal salvation ; not for the 
 pleasurable feelings and delightful hours enjoyed in his 
 kingdom, but because apart from him we feel ourselves 
 abandoned to the wrath and fiery indignation of God, 
 and to all the powers of darkness. That our attitude 
 may be that of exclusive dependence upon him; that 
 \\r may hang upon his neck and say, 'Lord Jesus, do 
 with me what thou wilt, refresh me or not, fill my heart 
 with manna, or let me suffer want to thee I cling ; 
 for where thou art not, I shall perish in my misery ; for 
 out of thee all is darkness, death, and hell,' that this 
 may be our state, the Lord generally proceeds with us, 
 as he did with the Bride. In his own time he changes 
 the sunshine in our souls into the gloom of night, and 
 withdraws from us all consolation. * By night upon my 
 couch I sought him whom my soul loveth,' says the 
 Bride ; ' I sought him but I found him not.' It had be- 
 come night with her, and she was forced to complain, 
 1 1 have lost the Lord.' 
 
 It has become night in us, in the sense intended by 
 the Bride, when the consciousness of the blissful pre- 
 sence of the Lord has departed from us, and the soul no 
 longer retains any perception of the felicity enjoyed at 
 17* 
 
194 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 his right hand. It is become night when the flow of 
 holy feeling and emotion is dried up, and our joy in the 
 Lord and all that is his., has expired within us. It is 
 night when the word that we read no longer affects us, 
 when its promises leave the soul cold and insensible ; 
 when the sermons we hear afford no enjoyment, and 
 the worship of God, once our most joyous employment, 
 has become a burden ; when we are no longer impell- 
 ed to pour forth our souls in prayer and praise, and 
 when the most sacred engagements do not cause the 
 heart to overflow with holy joy and delightful emotion. 
 Then it is become night ! deplorable state ! When 
 the spikenard of our spiritual knowledge has lost its 
 fragrance ; when the grapes on the Gospel- vine yield 
 for us no juice, and the flowers no perfume ; when our 
 hearts are become barren, and our spiritual tongue 
 cleaves to the roof of our mouth. Then we are full of 
 complaint and lamentation; we are cast down and 
 know neither counsel nor consolation ; for the prop on 
 which we had leaned was not the merit of Christ, but 
 our own feelings ; and this prop is now broken. The 
 foundation, on which the superstructure of our hopes 
 had been erected, was not the beam of the cross, but the 
 loose ground of our own piety and lively sensations ; 
 we had been accustomed to look more to ourselves than 
 to Christ ; our confidence had been our love to the Lord, 
 not his love to us. Therefore a cloud no sooner dims 
 the bright glow of our sensations and feelings, than we 
 find ourselves deprived of the consolations of Christ, 
 and. are forced to complain, with the Bride : We have . 
 lost the Lord. 
 
SERMON I. 195 
 
 III. We will now examine what further occurs in 
 tiii- state of destitution and banishment, when the luxu- 
 riant spring-time of our soul is changed into the chill of 
 winter, and the melody within us has ceased ; when the 
 heart, once so animated, sensitive, and happy, has be- 
 come a barren sand. We see it in the Bride. When 
 it had become night in her, she resolved : * I will arise 
 and seek him whom my soul loveth.' ' Yes, I will ! I 
 will !' By this we perceive how little she knows her- 
 self. I will arise, will restore myself, will take pos- 
 session of the paradise I have lost, and of my former 
 blissful state. I will again warm and animate my heart, 
 will again acquire my former joyfulness and my former 
 delight in prayer and praise. Yes, what is there that 
 she will not do ? W T ell, let her resolve, let her strive. 
 On the path she has entered she will make wonderfully 
 wholesome discoveries. It is a path of sorrow, but its 
 end is joy and peace. 
 
 * I will arise. 5 Whither will she go 1 'I will go 
 about the city, in the streets, and in the broad ways. I 
 will seek him whom my soul loveth.' In the city ? yes, 
 in the spiritual Jerusalem ; in the kingdom of God ; in 
 the congregation of the faithful ; there she hopes to re- 
 gain the exquisite felicity she has lost. But alas ! we 
 hear her complain, * I sought but found him not.' What 
 the Bride here confesses, have we not all here expe- 
 rienced 1 When that night overshadowed us, we also 
 imagined we could ourselves rekindle joy in the soul, 
 again render our barren hearts fruitful. We also could 
 exclaim : ' I will ! I will !' as if all had been within our 
 grasp. Then we also arose, and went about the streets 
 
196 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 of Jerusalem ; tried every means, and hoped to force 
 the waters of spiritual consolation again to flow ; but 
 ah, ' I sought, but found him not.' 
 
 We had resource to heart-stirring, beautifully spirit- 
 ual books, which we allowed to preach to us, in the 
 hope thus to obtain relief, and to re-animate our stag- 
 nant feelings. But, alas ! the books seem stale and 
 insipid, and left us as we were, dull and cheerless. We 
 sought, but found not. We hastened to the assemblies 
 of the saints, where the love of Christ was joyfully pro- 
 claimed ; where his praises resounded in spiritual songs, 
 and fervent prayers ascended to heaven ; here we ex- 
 pected a joyful spirit would again possess us, that our 
 hearts would melt, and our tongues be loosened. But 
 we sought and found not. While the eloquence of 
 others flowed like living waters, and their prayers were 
 ardent, we were speechless, or uttered empty words ; 
 they spread the wings of devotion, and soared on high ; 
 we too essayed to rise, but we had no wings to spread. 
 We forced ourselves to sing, but the song died upon our 
 lips, unresponded by our hearts. We sought, but found 
 not. We eagerly thronged to whatever was solemn and 
 sublime, hoping that there our icy hearts would melt 
 again ; and there we should again taste that joy, which 
 is eternal, at the right hand of God. But it was and 
 remained night ; and it seemed as if no spring would 
 succeed the winter in our souls. We sought, but found 
 not. We wearied ourselves in the streets of Jerusalem, 
 and fatigued our friends with our complaints ; we rer 
 sorted to every expedient to refresh and invigorate our 
 hearts; but we had still to complain with the Bride: 
 
SERMON I. 197 
 
 * I sought, but found him not.' The Bride meets with 
 the watchmen who go about the city. The watchmen 
 who are they ? We, the ambassadors for Christ, whose 
 business it is to go about Jerusalem ; to watch for the 
 safety of the city ; to arouse those found slumbering in 
 burning houses, and on the edge of precipices ; to con- 
 duct those walking in their sleep from the dangerous 
 rocks on which they climb ; to warn those who stray 
 from the path of life, and comfort those who sit solitary 
 and weep ; to encourage those who lie breathless in 
 the streets unable to proceed. Yes, the watchmen are 
 the Stewards over God's mysteries. To them the Bride 
 came, and addressed the inquiry : ' Saw ye him whom 
 my soul loveth V- Amongst them she expected certainly 
 to find what she sought ; but even this last hope deceiv- 
 ed her. Here too she was constrained to exclaim : i I 
 sought; but found him not.' Exhortation, counsel, and 
 instruction enough ; but no life, no joy, no interest in 
 the Lord and his cause, nothing of that which she desir- 
 ed. She had now wearied herself in the streets of Je- 
 rusalem, had tried every thing ; but still she remains) 
 and complains, ' I sought, but found him not.' 
 
 IV. It would now seem as if the Bride were for 
 ever cut off from all salvation ; and yet her salvation 
 was never so near as at this moment. She had now 
 reached the point of connection and union with Christ, 
 which is eternal. She had made great efforts to rekin- 
 dle her love for Christ, his kingdom, and his cause, but 
 all in vain ; and even amongst the watchmen who go 
 about the city, she had not recovered what she had lost. 
 
198 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 Lifeless as she had come to them, had she again depart- 
 ed. And as she proceeded a little onward, there 
 Well, what happened there ? There, methinks she 
 first paused, communicating with her disconsolate heart, 
 and felt, for the first time in her life, with the full clear- 
 ness and force of truth, the worthlessness of man and all 
 his acts, and that sin hath sunk him into the most abject 
 helplessness. Nay, that so deplorable is his state, and 
 he is so inwardly dead, that, of himself, he is incapable 
 of gratitude towards the greatest of all benefactors, the 
 most faithful of all friends ; that he cannot even open 
 his mouth in praise and thankfulness to him, who, be- 
 yond all in heaven and on earth, is worthy to receive 
 glory and honor, thanksgiving and praise ; that of him- 
 self he is unable to rejoice in the greatest blessings, or 
 elevate his heart in prayer to God ; that he cannot ex- 
 cite in himself any desire after the Lord and his bene- 
 fits j and that even the best adapted means are insuffi- 
 cient to dissolve his rocky heart in devotion, love, and 
 holy joy. This she had never dreamt ! Indeed how 
 could it have occurred to her, that human nature was 
 so debased ? But now experience had opened her eyes 
 to behold, for the first time, its complete corruption ; to 
 perceive, that the natural life was in reality death, and 
 not life, now for the first time she felt how deep her 
 fall, how weak and barren her life and will, how great 
 her ruin, and need of help. Hitherto she had desired 
 from her Bridegroom nothing but kindness, pleasure, 
 and refreshment : now she requires a surety to appear 
 for her, a mediator to undertake for her, an intercessor 
 to plead for her before the judgment seat, a renovator 
 
SERMON I. 199 
 
 to mould her into something on which the eye of God 
 might rest with delight. All this she found in him, who 
 had till no w been nothing more to her than a beloved 
 friend, that had cheered her life and rejoiced her heart ; 
 but now how infinitely precious had he become. When 
 she had passed on a little, she exclaims; 'I found him 
 whom my soul loveth !' 
 
 Was it not the same with us ? At first we, too, at- 
 tached ourselves to the Lord, more for the delight we 
 had in him and in his words, than because without him 
 we felt ourselves to be eternally lost. But this was a 
 slender attachment, a feeble love ; transient as the plea- 
 surable emotions which called them forth. When they 
 vanished, and the table at which we had been regaled, 
 was removed, then, alas! we fell away from Christ, and 
 Mild deny him ten times in a breath, and in various 
 ways. But when enlightened by the Spirit, we knew our- 
 selves as lost, as ruined creatures, and were enabled to dis- 
 cover in Christ a Savior, whose hand alone could snatch 
 us from eternal flames, our attachment to and our con- 
 nection with him assumed a new and very different 
 character. 
 
 I hold him, thfr Bride joyfully exclaims, and will not 
 let him go. And why will she not let him go ? Be- 
 cause he fills her heart with joy, and is the source of 
 many delights. The Bride, if in our midst, would re- 
 ply ; Though he left me to languish, and suffered me 
 not to taste of his loveliness, I hold him, and will not 
 let him go, because I know that he alone can save me 
 from eternal death. * I hold him, and will not let him 
 s;o.' Why not ? Because he sweetens her life, and 
 
200 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 richly provides for all her necessities ? Oh no, oh no, 
 she would reply ; though he gave me gall to drink in 
 this life, I know that he alone can. conduct me safely 
 through the gloomy portals of eternity, and the fiery 
 scrutiny of the last judgment : therefore I hold him, 
 and will not let him go. ' I hold him, and will not let 
 him go.' And why not ? Because he can help her to 
 attain that righteousness which is approved before God. 
 Help, the Bride would exclaim : I cannot furnish any 
 thing to adorn myself for the great wedding ? He must, 
 and he alone can, clothe me in the garments of salva- 
 tion, in which to appear before God. Therefore I hold 
 him, and will not let him go, but surrender myself en- 
 tirely into his hands. ( I hold him, and will not let him 
 go,' she exultingly exclaims or rather the Spirit with- 
 in her ( till I have brought him into my mother's 
 house.' What are we, then, to understand by her 
 mother's house ? Paul says, (Gal. iv. 26,) < But Jeru- 
 salem which is above is free, which is the mother of us 
 all." There she will bring her Surety 7 , and there be 
 brought by him. Now, beloved, we behold a soul by 
 the grace and guidance of the Lord, united to Christ ; 
 not as formerly, by a sense of the abundance of joy 
 which is derived from him, but by a feeling of its pover- 
 ty and great misery ; not by the experience, ( It is good 
 to be here,' but by the thorough conviction that with- 
 out him hell, death, and ruin are its portion. It recog- 
 nizes in him now, not merely a Comforter, but a Sa- 
 vior ; and, conscious of its own frailty, it no longer 
 hopes for eternal life as the reward of love to the Lord, 
 or leans on its pious emotions : but it rests exclusively 
 
SERMON I. 201 
 
 on the merits of Christ ; and it can say with Asaph, in 
 Psalm Ixxiii., * Whom have I in heaven but thee 1 
 and there is none upon the earth that I desire beside 
 thee. My flesh and my heart faileth ; but God is the 
 strength of my heart, and ray portion for ever.' May 
 the Lord thus guide us, one and all ; and may the con- 
 sciousness of our worthlessness form the chain which 
 hinds us to him ; and his merit and love to sinners be 
 the rock on which our peace is founded. 
 
 18 
 
SERMON IL 
 
 SOLOMON'S SONG, n. 14. 
 
 O my .dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places 
 of the stairs^ let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy 
 voice ; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. 
 
 WHOSE voice is it we have just heard ? It is the 
 voice of the fairest of the children of men ; the heavenly 
 Bridegroom speaks to Shulamite, his dearly purchased 
 church or to individual souls affianced and wedded to 
 Him in faith. Sweeter than milk and honey are the 
 words which flow from his lips; and when the Bride 
 afterwards so joyously exclaims, c Thy lips, O my spouse 
 drop as the honeycomb : honey and milk are under thy 
 tongue ;' she does so, undoubtedly, in the blissful re- 
 collection of this address of her Bridegroom, and of the 
 soul-refreshing words : ' My dove in the clefts of the 
 rocks, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy 
 countenance, let me hear thy voice ; for sweet is thy 
 voice, and thy countenance is comely.' 
 
 We will now consider the words more closely : and 
 may the Lord abundantly refresh us from this fountain 
 of living waters ! 
 
 I. Let us contemplate the dove in the clefts of the 
 rocks. 
 
SERMON II. 203 
 
 II. Then, consider what the Bridegroom intends by 
 this address to her ; * Let me see thy counte- 
 nance, let me hear thy voice.' 
 
 I. My dove.' Thus the Lord addresses the elect. 
 He calls them frequently by this tender epithet. In the 
 tilth chapter In ^,i\ v. ( )p^n to me, my sister, my dove 1 :' 
 and in another placej * My dove, my undefiled_, is but 
 one.' But why are they addressed as doves ? Is it on 
 account of the splendid plumage, the righteousness of 
 Christ, in which they are arrayed ? As it is said, Psalm 
 Ixviii., * Though ye have lain among the pots, yet 
 shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, 
 and her feathers as yellow gold.' Or is it because of 
 the gentle spirit of Jesus which is in them, and which 
 once displayed itself visibly under the form of a dove ? 
 Or are they called doves, because they rise above the 
 world ; as Moses declares : ' and thou shalt be above 
 only, and thou shalt not be beneath V Doubtless all 
 this appertains to the character. But if we take a 
 diaper and more enlarged view of the figure, we shall 
 find points of resemblance, between a soul converted to 
 the Lord, and a dove, more numerous, and perhaps 
 more attractive and striking. 
 
 If the lamb be excepted, there is no creature more 
 defenceless than the dove. She has neither tooth nor 
 claw, neither hoof nor sting, only a pair of wings for 
 flight ; in flight lies her entire strength and triumph. 
 Thus, we confess it, whether it be to our honor or 
 shame, thus it is with us, whom grace has transformed 
 into the doves of Christ. Those who are out of Christ, 
 
204 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 are all stronger. What heroes do we not find amongst 
 them ! who think themselves equal to every encounter ; 
 who know nothing of fear and caution; whom no 
 enemy can make tremble, no danger appals ; and who 
 would disdain to look for help in circumstances ever so 
 perilous. They think to vanquish empires by the 
 strength of their arm ; to seize the promises as a prey ; 
 with the right hand of their own righteousness to stop 
 the lion's mouth ; to extinguish the fires of the last 
 judgment with self-acquired virtues ; and to escape the 
 edge of the sword by their own wisdom and dexterity. 
 Of all this, like dreamers, they think themselves capa- 
 ble, through the power of their own might. Yea, what 
 cowardly fugitives are we, when contrasted with those 
 giants in virtue, who think to scatter their enemies like 
 chaff; that sin, the world, and the devil, with every 
 other bitter foe, shall fall before them ; whilst we pre- 
 pare for instant flight, if we but hear the distant roar 'of 
 the approaching lion. We venture on no contest 
 alone ; but as soon as the trumpet of conflict sounds, 
 seeks protection behind the shield of our champion. 
 They display a more heroic spirit ; and, proudly scorn- 
 ing all support, rush, as if invulnerable, into the hottest 
 fire of temptation ; and, though vanquished, exult in 
 the glory of falling on the scene of conflict, the field of 
 honor. Such honor we disclaim. We are not such 
 Anakim, such giants and lions. St. Paul, indeed, 
 speaks of breastplates and armor ; of the helmet, the 
 shield, and the sword, with which we are equipped ; 
 and, judging from this description, we might be taken 
 for wonderful heroes. But such is not his meaning. 
 
SERMON II. 205 
 
 As a dove escaped from the hawk, and safe in the 
 shelter of her covert, may be said to be ajrmed against 
 her foe, and to be covered with helmet and shield 5 in 
 the same sense are we renowned in many parts of 
 Scripture as formidable, as cased in armor, and terrible 
 as an army. But like the dove, our entire strength and 
 invincibility consists in flight, and in taking refuge; for 
 we are defenceless in and by ourselves, and it has hap- 
 pened to us as it once happened to Saul the Philistines 
 have stripped us of our armor, and have deposited it in 
 the house of Ashtaroth. Do Satanic temptations assail 
 us ? We hasten to Him who will be our house and our 
 refuge, and there we are found secure. Do we hear 
 the devil roar ? We venture not to encounter him, 
 well knowing it would be rushing immediately into his 
 jaws. We cling to the Savior, and a wall of fire com- 
 passes us around. If the lusts of the flesh revive and 
 stir within us unlike those who strive to conquer them 
 by firm resolves, and other self-devised expedients we 
 quickly fly to him who is our shield. And scarcely have 
 we beheld his bleeding wounds, scarcely stammered forth 
 a single * Lord Jesus,' when the victory is ours ; while 
 they, with all their panoply of self- will and self-exertion, 
 sink <!(<]> into the- mire. This is our method, and it is 
 that of the dove. We by no means enter into any 
 conflict ; wt: seek our salvation solely in flight. Jesus 
 is our armor : the shield that protects us ; the helmet 
 that screens us ; the sword that defends, and the fortress 
 that encircles us. 
 
 Doves, it is well known, love their accustomed dwell- 
 ing-place. And would we ascertain whether we be- 
 18* 
 
206 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 long to the spiritual swarm of doves, we must minutely 
 examine how we feel in the world, whether pleasure or 
 pain ; for by this we may know it. If we are the doves 
 of Christ, born of him, we feel pain, anxiety, and 
 fear, wherever he is not; and as this must ever be 
 the case, it is impossible to experience the delights 
 and comforts of home in worldly society, or .in 
 worldly pursuits ; on the contrary, we are uneasy 
 and straitened, the heart is oppressed, and lifts 
 its wings to seek a purer atmosphere. As a child 
 among strangers is alarmed, and ceases not to inquire 
 for its mother ; and as the soul of an exile swells with 
 inexpressible longings after the land which gave him 
 birth ; so feel the doves of Christ in the air of this world. 
 Nay, in it they cannot live nor endure to the end ; they 
 must continually ask for their mother, and are no where 
 so happy as in the air which encircles the mountains of 
 Jerusalem. ' In the world ye shall have tribulation,' 
 says Christ; this is one of the most infallible marks of 
 a state of grace. 
 
 Whilst we are speaking of doves, some one amongst 
 you may perhaps be reminded of the ancient well known, 
 and so called carrier pigeon, and inquire whether there 
 are no points of resemblance between spiritual doves, 
 and them 1 Undoubtedly there are. They both are 
 able to return to their homes, wherever placed. They 
 have a free passage ; and are ever willing to carry with 
 them the burdens and messages of strangers. 
 
 When the fiery serpents came upon idolatrous Israel, 
 the people themselves venture not before the Lord with 
 their complaints, but applied to Moses to intercede for 
 
SERMON II. 207 
 
 them ; and he flew up to the house of the Lord, and 
 poured the distress of Israel into the ears of an all mer- 
 ciful God ; thus Moses became the carrier dove of his 
 people. So David flew for Solomon, Lot for Zoar, 
 Daniel for Jerusalem, and Job for his children ascend- 
 ed on the wings of prayer, and brought the suit of those 
 for whom they went forth before the Father's throne. 
 And when Jeroboam besought the man of God to pray 
 that his withered hand might be restored ; and Darius 
 entreated the Jews to pray for the King's life ; and Si- 
 mon requested the Apostles to pray, that none of the 
 things which he had threatened might come upon him ; 
 then the man of God, the Jews, and the Apostles 
 were employed as carrier doves, to bring the affairs of 
 those, who have themselves no wings, into the Father's 
 house. O all ye winged souls, who know the way 
 above, and have free ingress and egress through the 
 blood of Christ ; disdain not ye likewise, to be the flying 
 post between heaven and earth, and willing interpos- 
 ers between your brethren, who have as yet neither 
 wings nor voice, and God. Carry not only your own 
 burdens before the throne of grace, but likewise those 
 of strangers. To be a dove of Christ ; to have unre- 
 strained access to Him, as to our house ; to receive from 
 his hand daily and hourly supplies of grace and mercy, 
 and to drink of the pure fountains of Israel truly this 
 is a happy state ! O that God would form all our souls 
 in this dovelike manner, to this dovelike state. 
 
 But to return to our text. * My dove,' says the Lord. 
 Where is this dove now to be found ? where is her 
 place ? Ezekiel once speaks of doves of the mountains, 
 
208 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 all of them mourning for their iniquity. Shall we meet 
 our dove there ? No ; once, it is true, she may have 
 had her seat amongst them, mourning and sighing with 
 them, in ashes ; but now she has soared upwards from 
 this gloomy region and vale of tears, and dwells else- 
 where. Isaiah beholds from a great distance a whole 
 swarm of doves flying as a cloud. Is ours perhaps 
 amongst them? No, our dove has already reach- 
 ed the windows, towards which they are only fly- 
 ing. Noah's first dove, as you know, fluttered rest- 
 lessly over the surface of the waters, and found 
 no resting place. So flutter many. Does our dove rer 
 semble Noah's 1 Not at all : our dove has found rest 
 for the sole of her foot, and the olive tree on whose 
 crown to alight. She is in the clefts of the rock. ' My 
 dove is in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of 
 the stairs,' says the Lord. Now behold this weak and 
 defenceless bird, seated proudly and securely in her 
 rock, like a king in his castle, or a chieftain in his camp, 
 bidding defiance to the whole world. No fowler can 
 reach, no hawk penetrate her dwelling ; no serpent cast 
 its venom so high ; and though the beasts of prey that 
 roam the valley, howl amongst themselves, the dove in 
 her fortress can laugh and look calmly down upon the 
 tumult. Clouds roll their thunders over them : but she 
 has no fear. Lightnings flash fiercely around ; but the 
 rock is not melted in this fire. Mountains sink before 
 the storm, and mighty forests are laid waste ; but the 
 foundations of her house stand fast. 
 
 The dove then dwells in the clefts of the rocks. If 
 we now abandon the figure, and judge the subject spirit- 
 
SERMON II. 209 
 
 ually, the rock will be Christ, the rock of salvation, and 
 the clefts his bleeding wounds, in which rests, like a 
 dove, every believing and accepted soul. Of a truth it 
 has found a safe retreat. Not so you, who are firmly 
 nested in the dry brambles of your own righteousness. 
 Behold the branches will be burned in the fire of the 
 judgment, and oh ! the poor bird with them. Not ye, 
 who depend upon your own piety, and expect salvation 
 from it. Oh ! believe it, that in the day of judgment 
 this will be counted as stubble, which is cast into the 
 oven, but not as a ground of your redemption. But 
 our dove has found a Zoar, not in herself; for there she 
 could only discover what merited condemnation ; nor in 
 her own works and feelings ; of these she could only 
 exclaim, Unclean ! unclean ! She was not so foolish as 
 to dream of gathering grapes on the shores of the Dead 
 Sea. She found her rest, and the certainty of her sal- 
 vation and future bliss, not in herself, but in the wounds 
 of Christ, in his bleeding merits and atoning death. 
 Her mind was so staid and governed that she knew 
 herself just before God, not on account of the new life 
 that had sprung up within her, but only on account of 
 the blood-shedding of her surety. And this is the foun- 
 dation which is firm and abiding, when every thing else 
 sinks and passes away. 
 
 Of him, whose salvation is firmly settled on the per- 
 fect satisfaction rendered by his Surety, whose hopes 
 centre in the merits of the true Paschal Lamb, and who 
 esteems himself secure in Christ alone of him, it may 
 well be said : * Behold a dove in the clefts of a high 
 rock, and in the secret places of the stairs !' No prince 
 
210 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 was ever so securely entrenched behind his fortifica- 
 tions, his ramparts and walls, as this dove. Moses is a 
 skilful archer, and sends out curses ; but here he may 
 leave his skill ; no ban can disturb, no curse affect, this 
 dove. For her silence of night reigns on Sinai and 
 Ebal, and the wild flames of fire are quenched in the 
 blood of the Redeemer. The subtilty of Satan is foil- 
 ed ; he may indeed go about the rock, and roar, but he 
 cannot seize the dove, without swallowing the rock it- 
 self, in which she dwells. Should even her love de- 
 cline, and her faith glimmer as an expiring light ; 
 should her zeal cool, and her heart become steril, as a 
 barren sand; yet is she safe, for, God be thanked! her 
 faith, her zeal, her love, are not her resting place ; her 
 stronghold and her fortress are alone the blessed wounds 
 of Christ. In this frame she is ever fair in the sight of 
 God ; and though miserable herself, she shines as a 
 crown of gold in the hand of the Lord. And suppos- 
 ing the Eternal would consume her, as a devouring 
 flame ; in this palace she is stronger than the anger of 
 God, and conquers the Eternal in his wrath. I there- 
 fore call upon you all, in the words of Jeremiah, ' ye 
 that dwell in Moab, leave the cities, and dwell in the 
 rock, and be like the dove that maketh her nest in the 
 sides of the hole's mouth.' 
 
 II. We have now contemplated the dove in her se- 
 cure retreat, after she has renounced all self-depend- 
 ence, and, despairing of herself, has taken shelter in the 
 clefts of the rock, the rock of Christ's merits. Let us 
 now" listen to the voice of the Bridegroom. < My dove,' 
 
SERMON II. 211 
 
 he cries, ' my dove in the clefts of the rock, in the se- 
 cret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let 
 me hear thy voice ; for sweet is thy voice, and thy 
 countenance is lovely.' What does the Lord mean by 
 this address ; how is he to be understood ; and what 
 secret motive may have prompted it ? To me it ap- 
 pears thus : 
 
 The Lord will see the countenance of his dove and 
 hear her voice, because her voice is sweet, and her 
 countenance is comely. By her countenance is intend- 
 ed the golden plumage, the imputed righteousness of 
 of Christ, in which she is adorned ; the new life in 
 God, the new creature within her, the man of light for 
 whom the world is become too narrow ; the faith with 
 which she is filled, the peace and tranquillity which take 
 possession of her pardoned soul ; it is her illumination, 
 her holy longing and desires, and her inward, constant, 
 spontaneous resistance to all darkness and sin all these 
 belong to the countenance of the dove. Her voice is 
 the incense of prayer and supplication, of praise and 
 adoration, kindled by the Spirit's sacred fire. This is 
 the voice the Lord wishes to hear, and this is the coun- 
 tenance he desires to behold. Do you wonder that he 
 should desire this? Is it not said (Psalm civ. 31.) 
 1 The Lord shall rejoice in his works ?' He is himself 
 the perfection of beauty, and his pleasure is to behold 
 himself, and all that has proceeded from him. The 
 Seraphim around his throne are his delight, because he 
 sees in them, as in a mirror, his own glorious image. 
 But he rejoices still more to view it in the dark ground 
 of the sinner's soul. 
 
212 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 The morning stars proclaim his praise, even in their 
 silence ; and they display with astonishing lustre the 
 purity of him who made them. But of all his works 
 none so loudly declare his praise, as the work of grace 
 in the sinner's heart. With inexpressible glory his 
 power and love are there exhibited. Imagine, a sinner 
 worthy only of condemnation, becoming at once holy ; 
 as David in the same breath declares : I am poor and 
 needy, I am holy ; a servant of the wicked one trans- 
 formed into a dear child of God : a creature of dark- 
 ness becomes light, like the sun, because its light is 
 come ; dead wood begins to put forth and bud ; and in 
 miry clay begins to be formed the image of the God- 
 head. What a manifestation of the glory of the Lord ! 
 How grand, how amazing an exhibition of the glory of 
 his name, of his infinite power and inscrutable mercy ! 
 
 And shall the Lord not find pleasure in the work of 
 his hand ? He desires to see this work, and rejoice to 
 contemplate himself in it. c Shew me thy countenance 
 and let me hear thy voice ; for thy voice is sweet, and 
 thy countenance is comely." But why c shew me thy 
 countenance V why ' let me hear thy voice ?' What 
 does the Bridegroom mean ? Is not the Bride always 
 looking towards him ? Does she not live and move in 
 him ? Does he not behold her every moment ? Why 
 then this call to shew her countenance ? And does he not 
 hear her voice, in the inmost recesses of her soul 1 This 
 voice is never silent to his ear. This is indeed all true. 
 Yet, sometimes it pleases the Lord to require a more 
 prominent display of what his grace has wrought in the 
 secret sanctuary of the soul : partly, that those in whom 
 
SERMON II. 213 
 
 his work is carried on may attain to clearer perceptions 
 of it, and be incited to more elevated devotion ; .partly 
 to furnish a glorious spectacle to angels, and to the 
 world, and to magnify his holy name in their eyes. 
 With this view he leads his people from under the 
 grateful shadow of the palm-trees of Elim, again into 
 the wilderness ; and calls them forth from tranquility and 
 calm contemplation, into the tumult of life, into various 
 perplexities, into night and gloom, where the light which 
 his grace has transfused into them has opportunity to 
 prove its existence, and to shine forth conspicuously. 
 The severe trial which he suspended over Abraham, and 
 the command, * Go, and sacrifice thy son whom thou 
 lovest' what was it but the same call, though disguis- 
 ed, ' My dove, shew me thy countenance, and let me 
 hear thy voice.' And, behold, the voice of this dove 
 was sweet, and her countenance comely ! The conflict 
 with Jacob for what purpose did it take place ? That 
 it might evince, how powerful the strength of the Lord 
 is in our weakness ; and what courage, what invinci- 
 bility, he can infuse into a dismayed and fearful heart ; 
 and the countenance of this dove also was most comely 
 in its appearance. Therefore know, all ye spiritual doves ; 
 if Jesus lead you in a similar way, if thick darkness 
 encompass, or the flres of temptation rage around ; if 
 he rouse you from your security, and causes Laban to 
 assail you from behind, and Esau from before ; he only 
 seeks in this way an opportunity, partly himself, to be- 
 hold the work of grace within you, and partly to dis- 
 cover it to yourself and others ; and in this gloomy dis- 
 pensation the call goes forth to you, ' My dove in the 
 19 
 
'214 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let 
 me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice ; for 
 sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.' 
 
 What we have now said is true, but whether it be 
 also applicable to our dove in the Canticles is another 
 question. I believe it is not. In my opinion it is not 
 the intention of the Lord, in this instance, to call forth 
 the soul from her tranquil and contemplative state, and 
 to involve her in perplexities, in order that her graces 
 may appear in a stronger light. No, I think I can per- 
 ceive a motive yet infinitely more lovely and tender in 
 this call ; ' Shew me thy countenance, let me hear thy 
 voice.' 
 
 The soul, whom Jesus here calls his dove, has ac- 
 quired an insight into herself, and her ruined state and 
 into the depth of that fearful abyss on the edge of which 
 she had so long unconsciously slumbered; she has 
 caught a distant glimpse of the judgment-throne, and 
 the Lord, as a consuming fire seated upon it, with her 
 sentence of death upon his lips : then anguish and hor- 
 ror took hold upon her, as an armed man ;' then she fal- 
 tered from place to place to find a refuge, a secure re- 
 treat from his vengeance. She sought but found none ; 
 the billows of anguish mounted high, and rolled tumult- 
 uously over her then the Savior appeared to her with 
 the cheerful declaration, ' I, even I am He that blotteth 
 out thy transgressions, for mine own sake, and will not 
 remember thy sins.' She no sooner heard these glad 
 tidings, than she rose and embraced him ; she cast her- 
 self upon Him as her only hope ; and in his merits, in 
 his wounds, she found the long-sought refuge and place 
 
SERMON If. 215 
 
 of rest. Now she is in the clefts of the rock, rejoicing 
 as- a brand just plucked from the burning. But her joy 
 is not unmixed, her state of grace not yet perfect ; ma- 
 ny things still separate between her and the Lord. Her 
 soul is yet oppressed with difficulties that render it im- 
 possible freely to exult in the grace she has received. 
 Sometimes the sense of her unworthiness weighs 
 like a mountain on her heart, and she is ashamed to lift 
 up her eyes ; she cannot conceive, that, for her sake, 
 the Savior should submit to such labor and trouble. 
 The wounds, that constitute her safety, become her pain. 
 Sometimes the fear of again falling into sin, and of los- 
 ing what she has gained, afflicts her ; and she strives, 
 with fear and trembling, if by any means she might 
 arm and defend herself from the roaring lion who 
 threatens her destruction. She cannot believe that he 
 \vho delivered her should still care for her feeling 
 deeply her unworthiness she considers this would be 
 requiring too much ; it is enough, more than enough, 
 that he so mercifully snatched her from the fire. She 
 is as yet entirely destitute of filial confidence in Jesus ; 
 she lies prostrate at his feet, and would pour forth her 
 gratitude, but the thought obtrudes itself: " Ah ! what 
 value can the King, surrounded by his seraphim, place 
 on my poor thanks ?" She would pray, but awe re- 
 strains her tongue, and she imagines so much has alrea- 
 dy been done for her, she ought not to desire more. Such 
 is her state ; great fear yet blended with her joy, great 
 pressure of heart ; her intercourse with the Savior is not 
 yet that filial, cordial, unrestrained communion, which 
 is so full of great benefits and of rich blessings. 
 
 The Lord well saw the state of his poor dove's heart ; 
 
216 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 and he saw it partly with delight, and partly with sin- 
 cere compassion. He approached her, and addressed 
 her tenderly, in order to gain her confidence, c My dove, 
 why art thou cast down ? Art thou apprehensive, that 
 I having extended my arm for thy deliverance, thou 
 hast no farther interest in me, and that my mercy is ex- 
 hausted ? Thou knowest not how my heart is affected 
 towards thee. I have indeed redeemed thee ; but 
 thinkest thou that it has been like one redeeming a 
 creature of indifference, and then going on his way ? 
 No, I also love thee thou pleasest me : shew me thy 
 countenance thy countenance is comely unto me, I 
 have pleasure therein : be not silent before me, let me 
 hear thy voice, it is sweet to me ; thou art my delight ; 
 and it is perhaps of higher importance to me, than even 
 to thee, that thou shouldst be kept from the enemy, and 
 that the work begun in thee should be perfected to thy 
 profit, and to my honor and glory." 
 
 And it was not perhaps until the dove comprehended 
 the force of this endearing declaration, that she was 
 able fully to rejoice. Every oppression, every burden 
 was at once removed from her soul. Her heart was 
 now free, her courage glowed, and her relation to Jesus 
 had assumed an entirely new character. It had become 
 a blissful, familiar intercourse of giving and receiving ; 
 of ingenuous, childlike application and desire, and of 
 unceasing supply ; and, in the place of fear and trem- 
 bling, had succeeded the most joyful assurance ; for she 
 now knew, not only that Christ was hers, but that she 
 was his. What a blissful state ! in which whatever 
 had intervened between us . and the life-spring of our 
 spiritual joy, has disappeared ; in which every doubt or 
 
SERMON II. 217 
 
 difficulty that had prevented an entire surrender and 
 devotion of ourselves to the best of all masters, is abol- 
 ished ; and in which every impediment to an unrestrain- 
 ed supply of grace from his fulness is removed. O ye 
 redeemed of the Lord, who have, by Divine grace 
 found the only secure hiding place, whose souls have 
 fled to the rock which was founded by God before the 
 foundation of the world ; but who have not, like our 
 dove, attained to a child-like, confidential, and ingenu- 
 ous intercourse with your Surety ; who have embraced 
 him as a Redeemer, but not yet as a friend, not yet as 
 a brother, and the benignant guide of^your life, who is 
 willing to dwell with you under one roof, to carry you 
 in his bosom, and who entirely lives for his own, as 
 once he died for them may you soon obtain from the 
 Lord of Lords, in this or in any other manner, the 
 blessed assurance that he is not merely pleasing in 
 your sight, but that you are likewise well pleasing in 
 his ; that your countenance is comely to him, and your 
 voice sweet, much sweeter than ever his voice to you ; 
 that you may not continue oppressed and fearful, and 
 appear as brands scarcely plucked from the burning ; 
 but that you may enjoy the blessed state of the Apostle 
 John, and repose upon his bosom as free and beloved 
 children, in the full experience of what is said by David, 
 (Psalms xxxvi. 7 8,) / How excellent .is " thy loving 
 kindness, O God ! therefore the children of men put 
 their trust under the shadow of thy wings. They 
 shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy 
 house, and thou shalt make them drink of the river of 
 thy pleasures.' Amen. 
 19* 
 
SERMON III. 
 
 SOLOMON'S SONG i. 5 6. 
 
 / am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem ; as the 
 tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. Look not upon 
 me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me ; 
 my mother s children were angry with me, they made me the 
 keeper of the vineyards ; but my own vineyard have I not 
 kept, 
 
 THE words of the text are those of Shulamite, a re- 
 deemed soul ; and they contain a remarkable testimony 
 of herself. She here describes her inward and outward 
 state, in a well conceived picture ; and she gives us at 
 the same time a passing sketch from the history of her 
 inward life. Let me beg your attention, while en- 
 deavoring to investigate the import of her words. We 
 will consider : 
 
 I. Shulamite's blackness : I am black the sun has 
 
 looked upon me.' 
 
 n. Her comeliness and beauty : ' I am comely as the 
 tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.' 
 And lastly, reflect upon, 
 
 III. The experience which she mentions : f my 
 mother's children were angry with me; they 
 made me keeper of the vineyards ; but my own 
 vineyard have I not kept. 
 
SERMON III. 219 
 
 I. ' I am black !' Singular confession ! The Bride 
 of the Most Lovely, black ! In the kingdom of Christ, 
 how counter every thing runs to reason, and our natural 
 conceptions ! For example : one would imagine the 
 natural order to be, first, holiness, and then pardon. 
 But the law of this kingdom reverses the matter, and 
 declares, Pardon first, and then sanctification. Reason 
 thinks virtue to be the way to peace ; but the Divine 
 rule makes peace with God precede, and virtue follow 
 as the fruit of peace, and not peace as the fruit of vir- 
 tue. Human wisdom supposes a man must become 
 upright before he can attain the rights of citizenship in 
 the kingdom of heaven ; but the wisdom of God ap- 
 points the kingdom to sinners, and numbers integrity of 
 life amongst the things to be enjoyed within its bounda- 
 ries not without them. Reason cannot think other- 
 wise, than that a child of *God must be pure and imma- 
 culate ; and behold, here steps forth such a child of 
 God, a soul entirely devoted to the Lord, and declares 
 without the smallest reserve : * I am black, O ye 
 daughters of Jerusalem.' Black both inwardly and 
 outwardly. Whence then thy blackness, thou fairest 
 among women ? * The sun has looked upon me.' The 
 sun ! what sun ? Surely not the Sun of righteousness, 
 that bringeth healing in his wings, and is the fountain 
 of all light ? Yes, the very same. In his vicinity, in 
 the blaze of his light, the Shulamite has become black. 
 
 Whence does she come, the heavenly dove ? Can it 
 be from the world, has she there soiled her plumage ; 
 or from the paths of sin, or the fires of temptation ? 
 By no means ; she is come straightway from the King's 
 
220 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 chamber ; where she has rejoiced in him, and refreshed 
 herself with the fulness of his grace. And she no soon- 
 er leaves this sacred place, than she discovers that she 
 is black. Whence then her blackness ? She is black 
 from the rays of that Sun, in whose beams she has been 
 reposing ; for her king even Christ, with whom she 
 had been he is the sun. We are all by nature black ; 
 to the very core the complexion of our heart, our life 
 and being, is black. But who is sensible of this 1 We 
 perceive not our blackness and sinfulness, until exposed 
 to the radiance of the Eternal Sun ; until the effulgent 
 glory of God's presence renders our darkness apparent, 
 and the light of his Spirit penetrating the gloom, dis- 
 covers to us the dark abyss of our nature ; then we 
 exclaim: 'I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem ; 
 the sun has looked upon me.' How was it with Isaiah, 
 when he found himself suddenly near this sun, and saw 
 the Lord sitting upon his exalted throne ? He was all 
 at once so black, and found himself so unholy and so 
 miserable, that he began to tremble at himself, and be- 
 fore God, and anxiously exclaimed, ' Woe is me ! I am 
 undone ; because I am a man of unclean lips.' W T hat 
 happened to Simon Peter, when he became aware that 
 the Day Spring from on high was with him in his 
 boat ? As if struck by lightning, he fell at Jesus' feet, 
 saying : ' Depart from me ; for I am a sinful man, 
 O Lord !' that is, in other words, ' I am black, O 
 ye daughters of Jerusalem; the sun has looked 
 upon me. And when the Lord looked up at the 
 publican Zaccheus in the sycamore tree, what was the 
 first impression which this look produced 1 The pub- 
 
SERMON III. 221 
 
 lican became a sinner, became black in his own eyes, 
 black as an Ethiopian, and began to make confession : 
 ( If I have taken any thing from any man by false ac- 
 cusation, I return him four fold.' Thus it is still : when 
 the Lord condescends to draw near to us, the first effect 
 of his presence is, that all our imagined lustre is dis- 
 pelled like the mist, and our darkness becomes palpa- 
 ble. The sun makes us black. When the Lord rends 
 the heavens, and comes down to commune with a child 
 of man, and to establish his covenant with him, the im- 
 mediate effect is, that he feels himself black, and knows 
 his misery. And be assured that he who has not expe- 
 rienced the searching power of that Sun, has never yet 
 come in contact with the Sun itself ; he is still without ; 
 not even having taken the preliminary steps towards 
 the ratification of the covenant. 
 
 ' I am black,' says the Bride. From whence does 
 this confession proceed ? Is it the excessive fervor of 
 a first repentance, as a newly awakened sinner ? By no 
 means. It issues from her secret intercourse with the 
 Lord, from a state of grace, and from the chamber of 
 her King ; as one of the redeemed, as a member of the 
 kingdom. And she is still black ? Yes that appears 
 strange to many. But is it not strange to him who has 
 been planted in the same soil with the Bride, and who 
 has been led in the same way of salvation ; he knows 
 well the impossibility of living in the communion of the 
 great Sun of Righteousness, without* daily discovering 
 in himself, by means of the bright rays, new and deeper 
 shades of darkness ; that by means of communion with 
 Christ, one becomes daily blacker, and the state of the 
 soul, as it is by nature, appears worse every day. Those 
 
222 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 who so easily and rapidly pass over into a state of glo- 
 rying, on account of their progress in holiness, cause us 
 at least to suspect that they do not sufficiently walk in 
 the light of Jacob, nor hold close communion with the 
 Lord himself. It arises from the nature of the' inter- 
 course itself, and is confirmed by the experience of all 
 the saints, that the more unreserved our confidence is 
 in the Lord, and the closer our intercourse with Him, 
 the more comprehensive will be our perception of the 
 depth of our own ruin. Every fresh insight into the 
 glory of Immanuel becomes a torch, to display, in a 
 clearer light the greatness of our depravity. Every 
 new discovery of the purity of his nature and his will, 
 strengthens the consciousness of our own impurity. 
 Every new communication of his grace will be a coal 
 of fire upon our head, and will deepen and quicken the 
 feeling of our own un worthiness ; and every new ex- 
 perience of his love and faithfulness will make us more 
 painfully sensible of the absence of those qualities in 
 ourselves, and of the coldness of our hearts. Thus, in 
 the light of his countenance, we shall daily discover 
 deformities and stains, which we have hitherto over- 
 looked ; daily find occasions to humble ourselves at his 
 feet, and devoutly to rejoice that our wedding garment 
 has long been woven and finished for us ; and that the 
 blood and righteousness of Christ are abundantly suffi- 
 cient to cover us before the judgment-seat of God. Yes, 
 only be and walk with Christ, and have fellowship with 
 Him, and I will warrant you that to the end of your 
 days the Shulamite's confession will be yours. ' I am 
 black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem ; the sun has look- 
 ed upon me. } 
 
SERMON ill. 223 
 
 ' I am black.' Black is the Shulamite in her own, 
 and black in the eyes of the world. ' Look not upon me, 
 because I am black.' Her Sun has deprived her of 
 her natural complexion, and has made her dark. What 
 does the regenerated soul still continue to bear about 
 her of all the world calls beautiful and delightful ? It 
 has all faded like grass in the heat of the Sun that 
 shone upon her. She is no longer seen in the assem- 
 blies of her former associates ; she has forsaken the 
 counsel of the children of this world, in which she 
 once so joyfully participated ; she no longer relishes 
 their frivolous jests, and can contribute nothing to their 
 diversions. She no longer attaches importance to ap- 
 pearances and dazzling show. Worldly fashions, and 
 worldly conviviality, have lost their charm, and world- 
 ly views and opinions their hold and their reality. The 
 doctrine of insufficiency which the Shulamite professes, 
 which strips man of every thing, and renders him desti- 
 tute ; the air of conscious sinftilness she bears about 
 with her : the gravity she maintains ; the sharp con- 
 demnation of unbelief and disregard of the truth ever 
 on her lij il singing, praying, and Bible- 
 
 reading, with which 0i- -JM -mis hours, and even days; 
 oh how odious and disgustful they are to the world, and 
 how liberally derision and abuse are showered down 
 upon her. She is slandered, decried, ridiculed ; and 
 with good reason may she exclaim, ' I am black, O ye 
 daughters of Jerusalem' black in the estimation of the 
 world : but she adds, * The Sun has looked upon me" 
 in this she rejoices, and lets the world rage. And 
 were she also black through crosses, persecutions, and 
 
224 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 adversity ; black as Job found himself when he said, 
 ( My skin is black upon me ;' even then she would not 
 waver, but would remain unshaken in her confidence 
 that this blackness proceeded likewise from her Bride- 
 groom, from her Sun. 
 
 i I am black.' We have already seen the more obvi- 
 ous and general meaning of the Bride in these words. 
 But perhaps this confession may likewise have its origin 
 in a peculiar state of soul. The Christian experiences, 
 in his communion with the Lord, days and hours in 
 which, so to speak, and to all appearance he ceases to 
 be a dark moon, and breaks forth and shines with all 
 the radiance of the rising sun ; in which with holy 
 transport he soars as on the wings of a young eagle, 
 and would even seek for the highest walls, in order to 
 leap over them with his God. O happy state ! How 
 gladly would he then see himself surrounded by Anti- 
 christ, and all the powers of darkness, that he might 
 testify, to their face, of Christ, and of the efficacy of 
 his blood, and with him trample them under his feet ; 
 how joyfully would he then proclaim aloud from the 
 house-tops, and in the streets, that Christ is Lord, to 
 the glory of the Father ! How sweetly the heart 
 is then invigorated to the fulfillment of every command ! 
 With what intense love, with what ardent devotion, 
 the soul is then inflamed. Faith is changed into sight ; 
 we not merely speak, but we prophesy and sing psalms ; 
 and the mouth becomes an inexhaustible spring of evan- 
 gelical wisdom and consolation. We are ready to say 
 with David, ' Lord, thou hast made my mountain to 
 stand fast ; I shall never be moved :" and we already 
 
SERMON III. 225 
 
 triumphantly exclaim, " the eternal hills are our posses- 
 sion." But in the midst of all this exultation, our glo- 
 ry becomes suddenly obscured. The daughter of Zion, 
 that had been exalted to heaven, is cast down to the 
 earth again, and her lustre has passed away like a 
 shadow. No sensible supplies of grace are experienced, 
 no blissful emotions are felt, no alacrity of spirit elevates 
 the soul. Prophesying has come to an end ; our praises 
 are languid ; the law causes us again to labor and to 
 be heavy laden : and, like a tree deprived of its leaves 
 in autumn, all the splendor in which we had for a time 
 been arrayed, to the joy and astonishment of our ac- 
 quaintance has been stripped off, and not a vestige of 
 its beauty remains. Then, again, we are black ; and 
 the daughters of Zion behold it, and compare our black- 
 ness and dimness with our former state of life. Those 
 who are but partially enlightened, who are not yet able 
 to estimate these dealings of the Lord, will view it as a 
 melancholy relapse into our former state of nature as 
 a sudden separation from the Lord, and from his love. 
 But Shulamite may say to them with confidence, < Look 
 not upon me because I am black : the Sun has looked 
 upon me.' Do not judge me by the present darkness 
 of my appearance ; be not deceived by the sudden bar- 
 renness, stlipidity, and exhaustion, which have come 
 upon me ; as though they were a sign that the union 
 between me and my Sun had been dissolved. It is not 
 the absence of the Sun, but his nearness and the fervid- 
 ness of his beams, that has tinged me with so dark a 
 shade, and rendered me so sterile and devoid of bright- 
 ness. My Bridegroom has himself withdrawn from 
 20 
 
226 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 me that excess of spiritual excitement in which I revel- 
 led, that I might not be high-minded, but fear ; that I 
 might not forget my former state of sin and misery, and 
 might learn to trust Him for his word alone, without 
 seeing or tasting : therefore look not upon me, because 
 I am black ; and do not start and be confounded : be- 
 lieve me the sun has looked upon me, and our union is 
 as firm as ever.' 
 
 There is one other way in which the Lord some- 
 times makes his people black. To promote their sal- 
 vation, and their humility, he suffers the leprosy of sin 
 still lurking in their breast, to break forth and to dis- 
 play itself outwardly, that they may not remain igno- 
 rant of its existence. On this point much might be 
 said ; but as there may be some amongst you who can- 
 not yet bear it, and who might be led by it into lament- 
 able errors, we will pass it over in silence, and turn 
 from the contemplation of the Shulamite's blackness, to 
 admire her comeliness. 
 
 II. ' I am black,' says the Bride * but comely.' Black 
 and comely at the same time ? How contradictory ! 
 And yet the Shulamite may say with truth, The blacker 
 I am in my own eyes, the fairer I am before Him. His 
 love to us is in proportion to our self-knowledge, and 
 to the consciousness of our sinfulness. Do we se- 
 riously complain to him of the burden of one sin, he 
 welcomes our approach. Do we sigh before him, con- 
 fessing that our transgressions are more in number than 
 the sands upon the sea-shore, he views us with increas 
 ed satisfaction. But do we reject all that we have and 
 
SERMON III. 227 
 
 are, as vile and accursed, and appear before him strip- 
 ped of all self-righteousness, then we are most pleasing 
 in his si^ht. There is but one complaint he cannot 
 bear the complaint, that our sins are too great to be 
 forgiven for that is the suggestion of Satan, who seeks 
 to close against us the fountain of Christ's blood, and 
 to derogate from its merits. He delights in the pardon 
 of aggravated sins, and finds most pleasure in the cure 
 of the severest wounds, and in the removal of the great- 
 est afflictions ; for thus his love and mercy are most 
 conspicuously manifested, and the renewed soul be- 
 comes more closely, gratefully, and devotedly united to 
 him. If the cry ascend to him, from a thorough con- 
 viction of our misery, that we are nothing, and can do 
 nothing ; oh, how willingly does he hear it ! His hands 
 hen unbound, the work is his alone he has room 
 to display his wonders, and opportunity to shew who 
 he is, and of what he is capable. For this reason, the 
 blacker we are in our estimation, the fairer we are be- 
 fore Him. 
 
 ' I am black, but comely.' In what sense then, is 
 she comely ? Comely and beautiful, as the curtains of 
 Solomon. Solomon's curtains may have been costly 
 and magnificent ; but there is one curtain that surpass- 
 es every other in splendor and beauty. It was not fash- 
 ioned by the hand of man, nor can it be imitated by 
 man. It is the work of the Eternal King, who wrought 
 it with many cries and tears. This curtain is the only 
 one that is pure in the sight of Him before whom the 
 heavens are not clean, and who chargeth his angels 
 , with folly. In it he perceives no stain ; and so won- 
 
228 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 derful is its efficacy, that if it were possible for Satan to 
 wrap himself in it, even his blackness would be con- 
 cealed from the searching eye of Omnipotence.. It was 
 in this covering, that David, Mary Magdalene, the thief, 
 and every other sinner, received the blessing of the 
 Father, and have been raised above the stars in the fir- 
 mament. And Abraham pleased God, for no other 
 reason than because he was clothed with this golden 
 mantle. What is this wonderful covering ? It is the 
 robe of salvation the righteousness of our Surety, 
 which is imputed to faith by grace. For if we are in 
 Christ, sin has no more dominion over us, as the Spirit 
 testifies. We are accounted as righteous before God, 
 for Jesus' sake, as fully as though we really were so, 
 because he was. so for us the curse and condemnation 
 are removed, for they have been sustained by us in the 
 person of our Surety and Substitute. And this garment 
 of imputed righteousness is not circumscribed, nor inad- 
 equate to cover all our sins ; neither is it of so thin and 
 loose a texture, as not to conceal from the glance of 
 the Almighty every stain and spot upon us. Praise 
 and thanks to God ! This garment will suffice in the 
 day of judgement, and will as surely bring us to Jeru- 
 salem, as if Solomon himself were entering the city in 
 it. Put on, then, this garment, and the blessing of the 
 Father will descend upon you ; and it shall be said of 
 you also, ' Cursed is he that curseth thee ! Blessed is 
 he that blesseth thee !' Yes, the Shulamite is fair and 
 comely comely as the curtains of Solomon. She is 
 arrayed in the golden vestments of the king himself 
 in Solomon's princely apparel, in his robe of righteous- 
 ness. 
 
SERMON III. 229 
 
 But within also, the king's daughter, as David says ? 
 i> all glorious, notwithstanding her blackness; and she 
 is not only comely, as the curtains of Solomon, but also 
 as >he herself here tells us, as the tents of Kedar. The 
 Kedarites were a pastoral people, living in the deserts 
 of Arabia ; and having no abiding place, they roved 
 from pasture to pasture. They dwelt in light huts, or 
 tents, some of which were made of black goat-skins, 
 and others were made black by the scorching heat of 
 un. Such are the Kedarites to whom the Shula- 
 mite compares herself. In the first place, because of 
 her blackness ; then, with reference to her position in 
 the rays of the majestic Sun, and to her walk in the 
 light of Jacob, and in the sight of the Lord. But by it 
 her thoughts are chieily directed to the idea of ' Christ 
 in us ;' whilst, in the curtains of Solomon, her eye con- 
 templates, moreover, ' Christ for us.' 
 
 Shul ami te, a Kedar-tent, black in herself, worthless 
 and unsightly, and burnt by the sun deformed in her 
 own eyes, in those of the world, and beset with misery ; 
 but fair, and lovely, and highly exalted the dwelling 
 of the great Shepherd, the glorious Morning Star, to 
 which he has free ingress and engress the place of his 
 rest, the theatre of his miracles, where all his wonder- 
 ful works are made manifest. Christ has taken posses- 
 sion of her, and extends that possession continually. 
 The new man within her also sighs, longs, and strug- 
 gles upwards having fallen out with sin, and hating 
 and abhorring it in every form weeping and mourning 
 over the weakness and corruption of the flesh, feeling 
 himself forlorn, a stranger in the world, and finding no 
 20* 
 
230 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 pleasure in its ways ; but loving, praising, singing, and 
 praying behold this is the work of the Lord, fashioned 
 in his' own likeness, and without weariness. The Lord 
 is ever busied within her, by his Spirit, strengthening 
 and maturing this new creation in mortifying, weak- 
 ening, and destroying the old Adam. It is Christ, who 
 inwardly chastens the Shulamite and consoles her ; who 
 cheers and strengthens her ; who visits her with whole- 
 some affliction, and imparts to her delightful peace, ex- 
 actly as the case requires. May she not therefore 
 pronounce herself a comely tabernacle, a habitation of 
 the Lord, a tent which her Bridegroom delights to 
 visit ? Thus she stands there with the door wide open, 
 imploring and sighing ; and it may with truth be said 
 of her, ( Behold a tabernacle of the Lord among men ! 
 O, Israel, where is there a people so glorious, to whom 
 their gods are so near, as is the Lord our God and Sa- 
 vior to thee.' 
 
 ( I am comely as the tents of Kedar :' this comeliness 
 consists, lastly, in her no longer following her own 
 inclinations; but as the tents .of Kedar are borne by 
 the shepherds, so is she borne by her King, removed 
 and placed wherever it may please Him and His love. 
 She is no longer her own, but her faithful Lord and 
 Savior's, both soul and body, in life and in death. She 
 knows herself to be in his hands, in his bosom ; and she 
 willingly surrenders herself to his guidance, whether he 
 may please to lead her into green pastures, or assign her 
 a place in the desert. And like as the Kedarites wan- 
 der with their tents, and pitch them sometimes in one 
 place, and sometimes in another ; she also is aware that 
 
SERMON III. 
 
 231 
 
 slu- is a stranger in the world, and rejoices in the know- 
 ledge that she has here no abiding city, but seeks, with 
 earnest longing, that which is to come, and contem- 
 plates the time with joyful hope, when her King shall 
 entirely destroy her earthly tabernacle, and assigns her 
 one all-glorious and beautiful. Yes, thou art black 
 thou bride of the Lord ; but we will not look upon thee 
 because thou art black, for the Sun has made thee so. 
 Thou art likewise fair and comely ; comely as the cur- 
 tains of Solomon, and as the tents of Kedar. 
 
 111. Let us now attend to what the Bride has fur- 
 ther to relate : * My mother's children,' she says, * were 
 angry with me; they made me keeper of the vine- 
 Nan Is ; but my own vineyard have I not kept.' By her 
 mother's children, she means the children of the king- 
 dom, who journeyed with her on the same road, and 
 participated with her in the same spiritual privileges ; 
 but whose walk in the light of Jacob had been of too 
 short duration, and their experience in Divine things 
 too limited, for them to conceive that a life in God 
 could be a concealed one, full of godly activity, but de- 
 void of all exterior splendor. A child of God in a state 
 of dejection was to them as yet an incomprehensible 
 mystery. Now it appears to me, that it may have been 
 precisely such a state of apparent dejection and barren- 
 ness, in \vhich they discovered the Shulamite to be. 
 She, whom they had known as so highly a gifted, joy- 
 ful witness to the truth ; whose distinguished and 
 effective course apparently resembled that of a pro- 
 phetess ; who had been as a light shining in a dark 
 
232 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 place, inexhaustibly rich in sententious wisdom, in 
 awakening addresses, in feeling effusions and fervent 
 prayers ; who understood how to make all hearts over- 
 flow with living waters, to melt them into sacred emo- 
 tions, and to hurry them from one fragrant eminence to 
 another; she, who had only lived for the brethren and 
 their communion ; who had hastened from assembly to 
 assembly, there to pour forth her treasures ; who had 
 devoted all her energies to the kingdom of God, and 
 from morning to evening, with the most flaming zeal, 
 had thought of nothing but converting, edifying, 
 strengthening, rousing, and comforting the brethren ; 
 and in the performance of all which she had been so 
 conspicuous ; behold, how suddenly she is overcome ! 
 This overflowing spring, how suddenly is it exhausted ; 
 this rose, so recently blooming and redolent, how 
 quickly has it lost its beauty and its fragrance. Be- 
 hold, the Shulamite's fire is extinguished, her zeal cool- 
 ed, her sensibility dried up ; her evangelizing spirit, 
 how dead ; her mouth closed ; her carriage, how con- 
 strained, reserved, and unsocial ! The sisters see it with 
 sorrow ; they are heartily grieved to have no further 
 communion with their friend. Yes, they even behold it 
 with indignation, for in this transformation they per- 
 ceive nothing less than an entire relapse into a state of 
 nature. Alas ! to her own sisters she has become, not 
 only a riddle but a vexation. Yet so far from having 
 fallen away, or from having departed from the school of 
 her Lord and Master, she has been elevated by him to 
 a higher class in this school, where she shall learn to 
 believe without seeing or tasting, and with Asaph to 
 
SERMON III. 233 
 
 
 
 desire nothing in the world but God : that though heart 
 and flesh may fail, yet to rejoice and be in perfect 
 peace not as arising from any subordinate communi- 
 cations from the Lord, but because he is himself the 
 strength of her heart, and her eternal portion. With 
 these things her sisters were not then acquainted. 
 Their inward light was too faint for them to perceive 
 in the change that had passed on Shulamite, in her ex- 
 ternal sterility and blackness, the pure benevolent dis- 
 ciple of the Lord, the guidance of the most faithful of 
 all shepherds. They imagined it to proceed from very 
 different causes, and Shulamite could not please them : 
 ' My mother's children were angry with me.' 
 
 And what would they now in their folly do with her ? 
 They would make her keeper of their vineyards ; that 
 is, they would attract her back to the scene of use- 
 fulness, activity, and tumult, in which they so greatly 
 delighted : in their kind but blind zeal, they would 
 have her re-assume their favorite form and aspect of 
 Christian life, and thus interfere, uncalled, in the work 
 of the Lord : and behold they succeeded, at least for a 
 short time. The Shulamite yielded, and the Lord per- 
 mitted it. < They made me the keeper of the vine- 
 yards.' 
 
 The experience of the Shulamite has, in various 
 ways, been that of many. Do you inquire how? 
 Listen : Is a man a Christian, has he bid adieu to the 
 world, and does he live to God ? Is he enlightened, 
 rich in experience, and by the brethren accounted faith- 
 ful, sincere, active, and qualified ; they at once begin to 
 calculate how he may be made useful. He is asked to 
 
234 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 
 
 preach in one place, in another to direct some society ; 
 business and labor are heaped upon him, and he is expect- 
 ed to undertake whatever is offered to his management. 
 He submits ; though it may often be more from a carnal 
 than a sanctified spirit : for how can he refuse the 
 brethren, particularly as their requests are confined to 
 sacred things. His occupation begins and ends but 
 with the day ; he is so active, so clever, does every 
 thing so well, that he is praised and encouraged from 
 all sides, till it becomes his delight. Thus he is inces- 
 santly engaged in the work of the Lord. He preaches, 
 exhorts, expounds the Scriptures to the brethren, prays 
 with them, relates to them the passing events of the 
 kingdom of God, superintends their societies, and does 
 a thousand other things. That all this is good and 
 praiseworthy in itself, who will deny ? Yet, before he 
 is aware, his own heart, with its \vants, has been lost 
 sight of; his secret, healthful intercourse with the Lord 
 is interrupted, and the desire for it gradually extinguish- 
 ed ; as if the soul had been satiated with this external 
 employment : but when God in his mercy restores light 
 to the mind of the believer, he is constrained to join in 
 the complaint of the Shulamite : f They made me keep- 
 er of the vineyards ; but my own vineyard have I not 
 kept.' 
 
 But it is asked, was it in this way that Shulamite 
 likewise forgot her vineyard 7 I answer No. She 
 found herself in very different circumstances ; and I will 
 endeavor to describe them. The sun has burnt us, 
 when we have lost the sensible tokens of God's grace, 
 and feel ourselves deprived of the consolation, peace. 
 
SERMON III. 235 
 
 and hope which had been our confidence and rejoicing, 
 and cast into a barren land. What the love of God de- 
 signs by such seemingly hard dealings with his faithful 
 people, is well known. Our associates mark the 
 change ; they are displeased that our glory has passed 
 away, that our beauty is so faded. They are angry 
 with us, and even apprehensive that we have fallen 
 from grace. Our mortification is deep, we cannot bear 
 ! I ir suspicion; and consequently, strain every nerve to 
 re-instate ourselves in our former condition. We again 
 put ourselves forward, but the Lord has not called ; we 
 again attempt to prophesy, but the Spirit is not with us ; 
 we seek again to appear as one of the anointed, but 
 our oil is consumed ; we wish to warm others, but our 
 own fire is extinguished. In short, instead of bowing 
 before the Lord, and awaiting, in prayerful submission, 
 the return of his pentecostal breathing, we try to sail 
 with an adverse wind ; we try the oars of our natural 
 strength, and resolve to supply the deficiency of Divine 
 inspiration from our own resources ; to take again upon 
 our own shoulders the work which Christ reserves for 
 himself alone ; and, instead of drawing water from the 
 Rock that follows us, to force it from the barren sandy 
 waste of our own nature. Our state is lamentable ; 
 we are separated from the Lord, and have strayed into, 
 and lost ourselves in, a maze of presumptuous self-will 
 and self-prescribed performances. And if the Lord 
 again open our eyes, we must judge ourselves, and 
 complain, in the language of the Bride, ' They have 
 made me keeper of the vineyards ; but my own vine- 
 yard have I not kept.' Instead of abiding in union with 
 
 
236 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 the Lord, enjoying his favor, and participating in the 
 abundant fulness of his vineyard ; instead of remain- 
 ing at the Fountain of life, and surrendering myself 
 like a child to the guidance of Jesus, I have lost myself 
 in the dark wilderness of self-prescribed duties, estrang- 
 ed from God. 
 
 Let us here conclude. My brethren, when after the 
 Babylonish captivity the city of Jerusalem had been 
 rebuilt, Nehemiah gave this command ; c Let not the 
 gates of Jerusalem be opened, until the sun is hot !' 
 This command is spiritually in force to this day. Jeru- 
 salem is opened to no one, till the Eternal Sun of the 
 universe has shed his heat upon him ; till he has be- 
 come black in his own eyes. Oh that each one amongst 
 us, who now accounts himself fair and beautiful, may 
 soon, from a deep and thorough conviction of his mise- 
 ry, be able to declare with Shulamite, c I am black, 
 ye daughters of Jerusalem ! Not .that he should then 
 attempt to purify himself: the Ethiopian cannot change 
 his skin, or the leopard his spots; but may .he experi- 
 ence the royal purifying power of Him who clothes all 
 his children in white robes. May the Eternal King be 
 with us all ; may He encircles us in his golden mantle, 
 and make us comely as the tents of Kedar. Amen. 
 
SERMON IV. 
 
 SOLOMON'S SONG vin. 6 7. 
 
 Set me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thine arm : for 
 love is strong as death ; jealousy is cruel as the grave : the 
 coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement 
 flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the 
 floods drown it. 
 
 THE words we are about to consider, are not those of 
 the Bridegroom, Christ ; but of the Bride, the awaken- 
 ed believing soul. She begs her heavenly Friend to 
 preserve her still in his love ; and at the same time re- 
 lates, in few but in expressive terms, the nature of 
 Christ's love. 
 
 Let us then consider, in reference to the text, the 
 love of Christ to sinners. Let us contemplate it : 
 I. As a great and free love. 
 II. As a strong love. 
 
 IE. As a jealous love. 
 
 IV. As a faithful love. 
 
 I. ' Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal up- 
 on thine arm.' These aspirations of the Shulamite 
 appear, indeed, to be lofty ; but in what do they exceed, 
 in extent or magnitude, what the Savior continually 
 does for sinners without their solicitation 1 He sets 
 them as a seal upon his heart, as a seal upon his arm. 
 21 
 
238 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 The Savior's heart is the inexhaustible source of all 
 love. If but the smallest drop from this fountain enters 
 the human heart, it immediately dilates and overflows 
 with love. Witness its surprising effects on Abraham ; 
 the love of God in him absorbed the love of nature, 
 and stretched his arm to offer his beloved, his only son, 
 a sacrifice to the Loro 1 . What a noble display of it in 
 David ! when with a love contrary to nature, and ele- 
 vated high as the heavens above it, he wept the death 
 of Saul, his mortal enemy, and broke out in bitter la- 
 mentations, that the shield of the mighty had been cast 
 vilely away, as though he had not been anointed. 
 Behold it in Moses ! when in the desert he cried unto 
 the Lord : ' Oh this people have sinned a great sin ; yet 
 now, if thou wilt forgive their sin if not, blot me, I 
 pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast written.' 
 What amazing love ! Hear the prayer of Stephen ! 
 stoned by his enemies, and prostrated on the earth, with 
 his last breath, he cries to heaven : ' Lord, lay not this 
 sin to their charge.' Behold a Paul! renouncing 
 joyfully all the advantages and pleasures which the 
 world has to offer, suffering ignominy and persecution, 
 scourging and stoning, imprisonment and chains, and 
 not even counting his life dear unto himself, that he 
 might bring the Balm of Gilead to his brethren, who 
 were sitting in the shadow, of death. The love of these 
 men was astonishingly great ! Who can utter all the 
 purity and faithfulness, the height, length, breadth, and 
 depth of such love ? And yet it was but a small drop 
 from that ocean of love which flows in the heart of 
 Christ. 
 
 But who can declare the love of Jesus ? By what 
 
u.MON IV. 239 
 
 / 
 
 standard shall it be estimated, in what Language can it 
 be expre>sed I Tin.- re is nothing with which it can be 
 compared ; the boldest imagination cannot grasp it. It 
 is a depth, into which angelic spirits look adoringly 
 down, but cannot fathom; an height, to which the 
 thoughts of a seraphim cannot attain. As he himself 
 
 1 ren loved by the Father from all eternity, in the 
 .mil degree does he love all who are the 
 objects of his iv^.ml. No mind can comprehend, no 
 imagination conceive, the love of Christ ; it surpasses 
 all knowledge and all thought. And his power, like his 
 love, is boundless, unsearchable, incomprehensible. 
 Obedient to his will, the waves of the Red Sea mount- 
 ed into a heap like a wall of crystal ; at his command 
 
 H >lid rock became a fountain of waters ; the impreg- 
 nable walls of Jericho fell down at the sound of a 
 trumpet, and the sun stood still in the firmament ; with 
 a word he restored life to corruption, and called the 
 dead out of their graves : and this was but a small dis- 
 play of his power, a trifle for his gigantic arm. Did he 
 he not call a world into existence out of nothing, and 
 command that to be which was not, and it stood forth ? 
 Did not his arm plant Orion in the heavens, and group 
 the Plaeiades ? And \ ei we have seen but a shadow of 
 his power ! He can create and do his pleasure ; as 
 the Scriptures declare,' All power is given him, in hea- 
 ven and on earth.' Oh who can measure the power of 
 his arm? His arm is like his heart, his power like his 
 love. We have attempted a faint description of them, 
 but the thunder of his power who can understand ? 
 
 And who are the recipients of this love, and for whom 
 is this mighty power revealed ? In general it is simi- 
 
240 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 larity of taste or disposition that attracts men to each 
 other, and forms the bond of union between them. But 
 the love of Jesus is guided by other rules. It was not 
 the angels and cherubim, who were the exclusive b^ 
 jects of his love : ' He took not on him the nature of 
 angels,' says St. Paul ; it was not the just, the virtuous, 
 the noble, the wise, the mighty, and the great, after the 
 flesh, that he sought to bear them on his heart;' for his 
 love is the love of sinners-, and his arm is stretched forth 
 to the miserable. It was for us, the children of death, 
 that the bowels of his mercy yearned from all eternity, 
 and for whom his heart burned with infinite tenderness. 
 How wondrous that love, which could impel the Sove- 
 reign of the universe to lay aside his glory, and in the 
 form of sinful flesh to descend into -this dark valley of 
 tears ! A love which prompted him to assume our 
 griefs, the whole Weight and curse of our iniquities ! A 
 love, which moved Him to become the most despised 
 and vile amongst the children of men, to humble him- 
 self even unto death, and to shed his blood upon the 
 cross ! What an amazing love ! And yet it was a love 
 for 'sinners, and for sinners only. It was not for angels, 
 but for thee and me, my dear brethren, that he submit- 
 ted to be thus straightened. The poor sinner is the ob- 
 ject of his love, the curse-stricken earth the theatre of 
 its display, and the deadened heart the subject on which 
 it operates. And wherever he has revealed himself in 
 the world, he has revealed himself as one compassion- 
 ating the miserable, reclaiming the wanderer, and as 
 the sinner's friend. Such is the heart of Jesus : and his 
 arm, his power, is wielded by this heart, by this love of 
 sinners. He has ever acted and governed in the world, 
 
SERMON IV. 241 
 
 as it' he possessed his power solely for the deliverance, 
 the salvation of sinners. For them he vanquished hell, 
 and trampled Satan under his feet. For them he con- 
 quered death, and burst the bands of the grave ; and 
 all that he has done, or is daily performing, is designed 
 to accomplish the salvation of sinners. What do we 
 need more ? His heart is for us ; his power is for us. 
 He lives not for himself, he lives for sinners. In this 
 we rejoice ! 
 
 But there is one peculiarity in his love, at the thought 
 of which we should humble ourselves in the dust, and 
 devoutly adore. In what manner, under what condi- 
 tions, and at what period, do you imagine it to be, that 
 he receives the^sinner to his love ? Some of you, per- 
 haps, may be ready to reply ; When the sinner begins 
 to think about a reformation, then Jesus also begins to 
 love. But I say, No ; He loves him before. But, per- 
 haps, it commences when the sinner sincerely begins 
 to inquire after and seek the way of life ? No ! long 
 before these sincere desires arise in the sinner, he has 
 been loved by Him who both imparts the will and per- 
 fects the good within him. Behold the Lord sets the 
 sinner as a seal upon his heart, as a seal upon his arm ! 
 and this is something unspeakably great ! What is a 
 seal ? It is the clear, perfect impression of a figure en- 
 graven upon a seal, or signet ring. When therefore it 
 is said, that the Lord Jesus sets the sinner as a seal upon 
 his heart, it can only mean, that he takes a true and 
 perfect impression of the sinner. He takes his true 
 figure as a ruined, lost creature, with all the marks of 
 sin broadly and clearly impressed upon him ; and when 
 it is further said, he sets him as a seal upon his arm, it 
 
242 ' SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 means, that, before any good is in the sinner, the arm of 
 the Lord is promised, and extended for his relief; that 
 for his salvation, the power and love of Jesus are united. 
 And thus it really is! Yes, believe it, before a spark 
 of the new life had been kindled within you, before the 
 smallest change had taken place, you. were already re- 
 ceived to the love of Jesus ; for how had you otherwise 
 become converted and believing, had not the sustaining 
 love of Him who is the author and finisher of faith, 
 been previously imparted to you 1 For. that you have 
 not converted yourself, you are perfectly convinced. 
 Every one, who has undergone this. change, confesses 
 with deep humiliation: I have not chosen thee, but 
 thou hast chosen me. . When you were still in your in- 
 iquities, and entertained not the most distant thought of 
 submitting your heart to God, even then the Savior's 
 love had sought you out. He had placed you as a seal 
 upon his heart that is, you had become the object of 
 .his merciful love ; your image, with all the stains of 
 ski upon it, was impressed upon his heart ; and when 
 you really were converted to the Lord, then his arm 
 executed in you the eternal counsels of his love. Yes, 
 on every one who is born again, the words of our Lord 
 are fulfilled : f I have loved thee not from the moment 
 of thy conversion but I have loved thee with an ever- 
 lasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I 
 drawn thee.' In thine iniquities have I loved thee ; as a 
 sinner weil thou. engraven on my heart. I set thee as 
 a seal upon my heart, as a seal upon my arm ; before 
 thou calledst, I heard and answered thee. Behold thi 
 is the great, the free love of our Surety ! 
 
SERMON IV. 243 
 
 II. And in the same degree that this love is great, 
 free, and unconditional, it is likewise strong and power- 
 ful. But how strong 1 Strong, says the Shulamite,.as 
 death. What a striking similitude ! Yes, strong as 
 death we have ourselves experienced it Who can 
 withstand death ? With invincible power he wields his 
 sceptre over all flesh the strongest he casts to the 
 earth, the most mighty become his prey. 
 
 And who can resist the love of Christ, when it goes 
 forth towards the sinner, and casts its net around him ? 
 A Saul tried, but found it vain to kick against the 
 pricks ; the Samaritan woman was not long able to 
 strive against, and to evade it ; and Nathaniel, in spite 
 of his conviction that nothing good could come out of 
 Nazareth, was soon obliged to confess : * Rabbi, Thou 
 art the son of God ; Thou art the King of Israel !' The 
 jailer likewise, with his heart subdued, fell down, and 
 anxiously sighed : ' What must I do to be saved V And 
 the heathen centurion was constrained to exclaim : 
 k Truly this was the son of God.' Yes, strong as death 
 is the love that seeks sinners, who can resist it ! It pur- 
 sues the sinner, who is its object, through all his devious 
 courses ; it follows him into the stillness of the closet, 
 into the bustle of the world, in the midst of dissipation, 
 and on the seat of the scorner ; it presses upon him in 
 every way, till his heart is .vanquished, and he is res- 
 cued from the paths of death. How long, my breth- 
 ren, did we not strive against its assaults, and seek to 
 escape the net ; how long did not we close our ears 
 against its call, and, as it were*, struggle not to be over- 
 come. But behold, has it not been too strong for us ? 
 Has it not at last subdued and made us captive ? Yes, 
 
244 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 God be praised ! it has also broken our hard and obdu- 
 rate hearts, and notwithstanding our resistance, has 
 forced us into the bonds of the covenant ! God be 
 thanked for ever, we have ourselves experienced, that 
 his love is strong as death ! Who can resist it ? 
 
 Love is strong as death. Does not death separate 
 man from this world and its concerns ? Does it not 
 snatch him away from all that is earthly and transitory ? 
 And behold, the love of Christ does the same. No 
 sooner is its influence felt upon the soul no sooner are 
 we participatingly assured of its possession, and able to 
 say with Paul : I also have obtained mercy than we 
 bid the world farewell ; its pleasures become embittered, 
 its waters turbid and vapid ; for we now drink from 
 other fountains ; and in places where we were formerly 
 at home, we now feel ourselves strangers, uneasy and 
 oppressed. Oh, how wonderful the change which 
 passes on the heart, as soon as it hears the Lord call it 
 by name, and the words, i Thou art mine !' vibrate 
 within it. Then a Magdalene quickly casts aw r ay her 
 follies, and becomes the handmaid of the Lord. Then 
 a Paul esteems all that he had accounted gain, as loss 
 and dung, and is Christ's alone. Then we willingly 
 abandon honor and pleasure, fame, applause, and what- 
 ever else the world has to offer, and follow Christ. Yes, 
 the love of Jesus is strong as death. Wherever it is 
 unfolded, felt and experienced, it separates the man, 
 heart and soul, from the w r orld and its trifles. Then 
 Abraham can no longer dwell in Ur, Lot in Sodom, nor 
 Moses at the court of Egypt. The heart pants, and 
 struggles to be liberated ; we weigh the anchor and 
 launch from the shore of this world. The love of Jesus 
 
SERMON IV. 245 
 
 is strong' as death. With the destructive energy of 
 death, and as the fire of lightning, it assails the old 
 man within us. Where the love of Jesus is perceived, 
 and his grace experienced, there also is a constant in- 
 ward dying, an incessant consuming ; there the old 
 Adam lies in the flames that will burn him to ashes. 
 Oh, it is hard to confess, that our sins have caused the 
 Lord of Glory to shed his blood upon the cross that 
 our sins have occasioned all his humiliation and suffer- 
 ing ! How inconceivably mortifying is the conviction, 
 that we must be received to his arms and to his love, 
 as the vilest of sinners ! it degrades us in the dust of 
 self-abasement, and overwhelms us with shame and 
 disgrace ; while it renders a life after the flesh distaste- 
 ful and disgusting. With the consciousness : I have 
 obtained mercy; pride cannot rear its head; avarice 
 cannot thrive ; lust cannot spring up ; that is impossi- 
 ble ; for where the love of Christ takes possession of 
 the soul, there it is as death, destructive as the fire of 
 brimstone, and pestilence, to the old man. 
 
 III. And behold, to the strength of death, the love 
 of Christ to sinners unites the firmness of hell.* Its fer- 
 vor, says the Shulamite, is unchanging as the grave; and 
 our hearts should gratefully respond * God be praised !' 
 The Shulamite speaks with force and power, but with 
 truth and beauty. It is as she has said. The love of 
 Jesus to the elect is a zealous, ardent, yea, and a jealous 
 
 * This is a Jiteral rendering of the author's words, who has of 
 course followed the idea conveyed by Lulher'i translating the word 
 wp by ' firm,' which is, perhaps, more correct than cruel,' aa the 
 English version has it. ED- 
 
246 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 love. It encircles its object with a firmness so immoveable 
 and undeviating, that the idea of surrender on its part, is 
 as little to be entertained as that of a surrender of the 
 lost on the part of hell. Though on earth Satan must 
 renounce his prey at the bidding of the Lion of the 
 tribe of Judah ; but if he have dragged it down into the 
 bottomless pit, the gates are closed, and none shall open 
 them. Hell asserts its rights and^its possessions. No 
 sighs, no grief, can move it ; no tears, or lamentations 
 of the damned ; it holds them in its gloomy caverns 
 with stern, inexorable cruelty, and the smoke of their 
 torments ascends for ever and ever. And such is the 
 constancy of the love of Christ. The Lord Jesus keeps 
 what he has. ' My sheep are mine' he says, e and none 
 shall pluck them out of my hand .' Should the devil, 
 the accuser, appear, and claim the sinner as his own ; 
 should he heap every deadly sin upon his head ; should 
 Moses arise, and call upon the Lord to condemn the 
 despiser of his laws ; should even the angels of God 
 cry together, Away with him ! the thief is not fit for 
 Paradise ! what could it avail ? For if he has once 
 taken the sinner to his heart, his love is firm as 
 hell. And whether it were Satan, Moses, or the 
 angels, his answer would be, : ' Away with you all.' 
 I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy. His 
 love is an unyielding .love : it never relinquishes what 
 it has once adopted. It turned the lost son from the 
 husks of the swine-troughs, from the seat of the scorn- 
 er and the profane. It followed Solomon into the tem- 
 ples of Satan, into the assemblies of heathen women, 
 and the dwellings of lewdness : yes, it pursued him 
 even to the altars of strange gods, and rested not till it 
 
SERMON IV. 247 
 
 a 
 
 had reclaimed him. Such is the love of Christ ! and 
 it declares to Satan, * I am stronger than thou art.' 
 What it has it has, and never abandons. And if Satan 
 assail the Bride, a conflict immediately ensues; which 
 ceases not till the dragon is discomforted. Yes, the 
 love of Christ for his people is firm and unrelenting as 
 hell. * I am persuaded,' says St. Paul, ' that neither 
 death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor 
 powers ; nor things present, nor things to come ; nor 
 height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able 
 to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ 
 Jesus our Lord.' 
 
 Once more. The fervor of his love is firm as hell, 
 and is mingled with ,i holy jealousy. Where is there 
 a soul with whom he has deigned to hold converse, that 
 has not experienced how jealous is his love ? He will 
 possess his people exclusively, not divided with ano- 
 ther; he will not suffer his followers to adhere to 
 Belial, and coquette with the world: therefore his 
 efforts are incessant, and endlessly varied, till his Bride 
 has cordially renounced the world, and is entirely his 
 own. What has been our own experience, my bre- 
 thren, when we have turned back into the world ; 
 when, fascinated by its charms, we have forgotten 
 Him, or have attempted to associate Him with Belial ; 
 when our speech and our actions have faithlessly de- 
 clared with Simon, ' I know not this man ;' when clos- 
 ing our eyes and our hearts against him, we have again 
 demeaned ourselves as men of this world ? What 
 were our sensations when reflection returned ? Did 
 not a day of sorrow and anguish, a day of storm and 
 tempest, of darkness and gk>om, break in upon the 
 
248 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 soul ? Our peace and joy had departed ; we felt as 
 though we had rejected his grace; and we began 
 anxiously to inquire how we might appease the Lord ! 
 He seemed to have turned from us in anger, and our 
 souls endured the torments of hell. Behold in this his 
 jealousy and his displeasure ! But, blessed be God, it 
 is only the anger of love. His tenderness is wounded 
 because we have left him, and because he has for a 
 time been deprived of the joy of possessing us wholly 
 and undivided. This pains and afflicts him. It pro- 
 vokes his love, and therefore his jealousy is kindled, and 
 he plunges us down into hell. Into hell ! Yes, the 
 Lord sometimes conducts even his people into hell ; 
 but, God be praised, he does not leave them there. 
 
 TV. Strong as death is the love of Jesus. His 
 jealousy is firm as hell ; the coals thereof are coals of 
 fire, which hath a most vehement flame. Many waters 
 cannot quench it, neither can the floods drown it. By 
 these words Shulamite describes the faithfulness of 
 Christ, as opposed to our unfaithfulness. How differ- 
 ent is it with our love towards each other, even when 
 it is most sincere and pure ; contrasted with the love of 
 Christ, it is but as the glimmering of a torch, which 
 but few waters would suffice to quench. The slightest 
 degree of coldness or unrequited affection, the slightest 
 offence or inconstancy on the part of those we love, is 
 sufficient to estrange our hearts, and quench our lov. 
 Such floods it cannot survive. And how is it with our 
 love to the Lord? Alas! if he do not continually 
 quicken it, by fresh and sensible supplies of his grace, 
 it is soon reduced to the faintest glimmer. The 
 
SERMON IV. 249 
 
 streams of worldly temptation, or the waters of conflict 
 and trial, need only beat against it; the Lord need only 
 for a moment hide himself, and withdraw from us the 
 sweet consciousness of his presence, when our hearts 
 begin to cool, and the melody of our soul to cease. 
 Our love is fickle ; it may cool and expire ; we are 
 faithless and inconstant But Jesus is faithful ; his love 
 to his people is immoveable; the coals thereof are 
 coals of fire ; no streams, however violent, no floods, 
 however turbulent, can extinguish, or even damp his 
 love to sinners. Not the floods of our iniquities'? 
 No, not eveli these. How great was that flood of 
 sin and transgression which David poured upon the 
 love of his Surety ! But, behold ! his love burnt on, 
 and maintained the superiority. He did not forsake 
 the murderer and the adulterer, but kindly extended to 
 him his arm, on which he had placed him as a seal, 
 and mercifully assisted him out of the miry pit, and 
 placed his feet again upon the rock ; and David re- 
 mained, what he previously had been, the man after 
 God's own heart The unfaithfulness of Simon passed 
 as a flood over the love of Jesus ! Another would have 
 said, Now our friendship is at an end ; with you I will 
 have no further intercourse. But the love of Jesus is 
 not a glimmering taper, that the first wind can extin- 
 guish. The coals thereof are coals of fire, which, 
 though floods of inconstancy, coldness, and ingratitude 
 pass over it, continues triumphantly to burn, and break 
 through every assault. The look of wounded affection 
 which he cast on Simon, frem the Judgment Hall, after 
 he had denied him, still continues to excite our admira- 
 tion and wonder ; there was a magnanimity, a divinity 
 22 
 
250 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAM1TE. 
 
 in it, which we can neither grasp nor comprehend. His 
 love stands fast. f The mountains shall depart, and the 
 hills be removed ; but my kindness shall not depart 
 from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be 
 removed, saith the Lord, that hath mercy on thee. 3 
 ' My sheep shall never perish, neither shall any man 
 pluck them out of my hand. My Father which gave 
 them me is greater than all ; and no man is able to 
 pluck them out of my Father's hand.' 
 
 But may not a man go on comfortably in his sins, if 
 he knows he should not on that account lose the favor 
 of God ? Oh, how often are we obliged to listen to 
 this miserable and foolish objection ! A little reflection 
 might teach, that the love of sin, and the thought of 
 sinning that grace might abound, are incompatible with 
 the life of one who is born again ; they are utterly im- 
 possible. If you entertain a propensity to sin that 
 grace may abound, you are not Christians ; your new 
 birth is a pretence ; you belong to those who are with- 
 out, and have not yet obtained the smallest interest in 
 Christ. Let this sink deep into your hearts, and judge 
 yourselves by it. But we rejoice, and praise God that 
 our hope of salvation is founded on such a rock as the 
 love of Jesus. Did our hope rest on our love to Him, 
 it would weaken and die if ever our love dwindled and 
 expired : were it based upon our faith, we should be 
 obliged to abandon it, if our faith became obscured : 
 still less can it be grounded on our sensations and de- 
 votional feelings, for then we should sink into despair, 
 whenever our hearts became cold and barren. No ; 
 our hope is founded on the love of Jesus to us ; and 
 here it has found a secure anchorage. It is based on 
 
SERMON IV. 251 
 
 the love which is strong as death and firm as the grave ; 
 whose coals are coals of fire, which many waters can- 
 not quench. It is founded on the love which pursues 
 the sinner through all* his deviations and wanderings, 
 which loves him, though overshadowed by many in- 
 consistencies ; and which stands unshaken, though ours 
 may waver and decline. His love to us is our resting- 
 place, our sure foundation ; it is the prop by which 
 we rise when we have fallen ; the staff which sustains 
 us on our pilgrimage through this valley of tears. It is 
 the source of our joy, the spring of our courage, and the 
 fire by which we are refined j it is our sanctification 
 and our life. But who can number all the blessings 
 that are treasured up for us in the love of Jesus ? Then 
 take thy harp, O Israel ! Believe and rejoice ; for 
 thou art encircled by the arms of Everlasting Love. 
 
SERMON V. 
 
 SOLOMON'S SONG i. 7, 8. 
 
 Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thoufeedest, where 
 thou makest thy flock to rest at noon : for why should I be as 
 one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions ? If 
 thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way 
 forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside 
 the shepherds' tents. 
 
 THERE is scarcely any state of spiritual life that is 
 not here and there described in the Song of Solomon, 
 at least in the way of allusion. This little book is a 
 true mirror of the heart of every child of God. The 
 impure world, indeed, discovers in it only its own vile 
 likeness. But is the stream to blame, that, when a 
 Moor surveys himself in the pure and limped waters, an 
 ugly black countenance is presented to his view ? The 
 fault lies not in the mirror, but in the face of the Moor ; 
 and were he on that account to censure the innocent 
 stream, or, in imitation or a certain raging conqueror, 
 to beat it with rods, would it not be absurd and unjust ? 
 Yet such is the procedure of unbelievers with the Song 
 of Songs. But, let us not be turned aside thereby from 
 this stream which flows from the rock of Zion, or suffer 
 our pleasure therein to be corrupted. We drink water 
 from it which springs up to everlasting life. 
 
 The text contains a conversation between Christ, the 
 heavenly Bridegroom, and his Bride, the Church or the 
 
SERMON V. 253 
 
 soul of an individual believer. The sentiment breathed 
 by the Shulamite, is that of longing for the coming of 
 the Lord, and ardent desire to be near him. But the 
 answer of Christ calms the longing soul, points out to it 
 the way, and imparts wholesome advice. Many a soul 
 amongst us is in the same state with Shulamite ; many 
 require the same refreshment. Let us therefore consider 
 the words more fully, and reflect, 
 I. On Shulamite's state. 
 II. On her address to the Lord. 
 
 III. On her question. 
 
 IV. On Christ's counter-question. 
 V. On His advice. 
 
 I. We are already acquainted with the state of Shu- 
 lamite's soul. She has herself, in the preceding words 
 disburthened her heart, and discovered to us its inward 
 aspect. * I am black,' she complains, ' O ye daugh- 
 ters of Jerusalem. Look not upon me because I am 
 black, because the sun hath looked upon me.' In the 
 text she describes her appearance as that of noon-day 
 that is, she is exposed to the noon-day heat, when 
 the sun has attained his greatest altitude, and shoots 
 his scorching rays perpendicularly on the head. ' Tell 
 me,' she exclaims, ' where thou feedest, where thou ma- 
 kest thy flocks to rest at noon ?' The raptures of morn- 
 ing are past ! For it is the morning in the soul, when 
 it resembles a garden of spices, and the Spirit, like the 
 south wind, blowing freshly through it, causes our fra- 
 grance to flow abroad ; and we hear its sound, and per- 
 cieve its influence. It is morning when the King him- 
 self draws nelar, and our spikenard sends forth its per- 
 22* 
 
254 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 fume ; when our inward spiritual life assumes sensibility 
 and feeling, and floods the soul like a fruitful vivifying 
 water ; when the presence of the Lord is powerfully ex- 
 perienced, the comfort of assurance blissfully enjoyed, 
 the love of Christ ardently felt, and the powers of the 
 world to come tasted in copious draughts. How de- 
 lightful is morning ! How pleasant the air ! How mild 
 and exhilarating the warmth of the sun ! Then the val- 
 leys are filled with balsamic odours, and the plains are 
 moistened by the early dew ; then the vines breathe 
 forth their fragrance, and the turtle is heard in the grove. 
 It was morning in the life of Shulamite, when she ex- 
 claimed : ' Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth : 
 for thy love is better than wine. Thy name is an oint- 
 ment poured forth ; therefore the virgins love thee. 
 Draw me, we will run after thee : the king brought me 
 into his chambers ; we will be glad and rejoice in thee.' 
 Yes, then the light of morning shone upon her head. 
 What a happy state ! To soar above the earth, like a 
 young eagle ; to be placed beyond the fear of death 
 and hell ; to be able joyfully to embrace all the breth- 
 ren in Christ ; to have a heart expansive as the ocean ; 
 to be also dear to all the brethren, and overflowing 
 with streams of living water ! 
 
 But the light in which we now meet the beloved 
 Shulamite, is not that of morning ; alas ! all with her is 
 changed. Her very appearance betrays it. Where is 
 now the dear- sunshine, that once animated her counte- 
 nance ; and the eye, sparkling with joy, the lip breath- 
 ing eloquence, the lofty enthusiasm, the intense love of 
 her espousals, and her glowing testimony ? What be- 
 came of it all ? Alas ! they seem to have died away. 
 
SERMON V. 255 
 
 She resembles a flower that has lost both its scent and 
 its enamel. Shulamite is afflicted a*nd cast down. 
 What then has happened to her 1 Has she perhaps sus- 
 tained a serious fall ? Not exactly so. Then she is as- 
 sailed by doubts, and asks with John, ' Art thou he that 
 should come V Not so. Then she has encountered se- 
 vere temptations, and conflicts with Satan ? No that is 
 not the case. She says, it is noon in her soul. She 
 reminds us of a hot, sultry, summer 's-d ay ; all nature 
 droops ; the flowers hang down their head ; the grass is 
 faded and dry ; the beasts pant for breath, the birds are 
 silent in the trees ; dark clouds of dust obscure the roads, 
 and all is dull weary and languid. And this she will 
 say is her spiritual state. Oh, we understand her well ; 
 it is the state of barrenness, of insensibility, in which 
 she finds herself; the state of spiritual nakedness and 
 destitution, in which we ourselves perceive no trace of 
 the new life, and of the gracious presence of the Lord ; 
 in which a difference between ourselves and the un- 
 regenerate is scarce discernible ; in which we feel no 
 love, no necessity of prayer, and we begin to waver, 
 and to doubt whether we are in a state of grace, or no. 
 This is the noon in which we find the Shulamite. 
 
 n. Shulamite in her distress applies to the Lord ; 
 to him she will make known her grief. In this she does 
 wisely. There is no helper besides Him ; and even 
 though we may be unable to pray, we should prostrate 
 ourselves in silence before him, as if we would say, Be- 
 hold our misery ! It is vain to look elsewhere, this is 
 the only well from which water can be obtained in 
 time of drought. c Thou,' she sighs, ' whom my soul 
 
256 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 loveth !' Thou ! What a singular address ! Why 
 does she not acW his name ? Ah, in her present state 
 of mind she knows not what to call him. There are 
 times, in which we know not how to address the Lord, 
 except with a simple, Thou ! Thou ! and that is all. 
 Thus we sometimes experience sudden abstractions of 
 mind, like in the third heaven ; moments of unequalled 
 mental vision and communion with Jesus ; when sud- 
 denly he, who is the fairest amongst the children of 
 men, displays himself to our view in all his beauty, as 
 though we saw him face to face ; and all the bliss, that 
 is eternal at his right hand, is imbibed into the soul, as 
 with one draught. The entire greatness of his love, is 
 unveiled to our view ; the happiness of being recon- 
 ciled by his blood, is felt in all its magnitude, and the 
 delight of the heart exceeds all bounds. Then, indeed, 
 one would gladly speak, and call him by name ; but 
 what name is sufficiently expressive to describe Him 
 whom we behold and taste. His most glorious titles 
 appear to us inadequate, and too mean for such a Lord. 
 Absorbed in admiration and excess of bliss, a simple 
 ( O Thou!' is all we are able to utter. But there are 
 other states of feeling in which w r e know not by what 
 title to address him. By what name shall we call upon 
 him, when, as convicted sinners, we lie prostrate in the 
 dust before his throne of grace, and cannot venture 
 even to lift up our eyes. Shall we call him our Lord ? 
 Ah, we are rebels, and not servants. Shall we address 
 him as Savior ? How can we presume ; what claims 
 have we on his mercy ? Or as our Mediator and Inter- 
 cessor ? Alas, for creatures so deeply fallen as we are, 
 he will never intercede ! All the sweet and endearing 
 
SERMON V. 257 
 
 titles by which his children are permitted to address 
 him, falter upon our tongues ; and Thou ! Thou ! 
 is all that our trembling lips can utter. And when 
 in his mysterious dealings he has again deprived us 
 of all that he had once vouchsafed to us has with- 
 drawn himself from our view, and surrounded him- 
 self with clouds and darkness, so that we no longer 
 taste his grace, or enjoy his love, as was the case with 
 Shulamite, how shall we then call upon him ? By 
 what name address him ? As a friend 1 We no longer 
 recognize him as such. As a Bridegroom ? Ah, the 
 days of our espousals are past. As a Prince of peace 1 
 Where is his peace ! As our guide ? Alas, we wan- 
 der forsaken. At such times we are tempted to ask 
 with Manoah, '< What is thy name V And, Wonderful ! 
 is the only title by which we can address him ! Some- 
 times even we appear to have lost all trace of him as a 
 4 Wonderful God ;' it seems as though he guided us no 
 longer, or concerns himself no more about us. Then a 
 sighing of c O Thou !' is our only resource. Thus it 
 was with our Shulamite. But the remainder of her 
 address must cause us astonishment ; * Thou,' she says, 
 * whom my soul loveth.' How strange ! We thought 
 her love was at an end. Yes, that she herself also 
 most firmly believes. But does she not say, ' Thou 
 whom my soul loveth V The words have indeed es- 
 caped her, but I believe she is not insensible of it. 
 Ah ! how frequently is this the lamentation of benight- 
 ed and tempted souls. Their complaint is incessant, 
 that there is no more love in their heart, no desire after 
 the Lord, and yet, in contradiction to themselves, they 
 continually exclaim, if not in words, yet most loudly by 
 
258 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 their actions : ( Thou whom my soul loveth !' Singu- 
 lar people ! who do nothing else than run about from 
 morning till night inquiring and seeking after Jesus, like 
 sheep lost in the desert, bleating after their shepherd. 
 How delighted would you be to find him again ; and 
 should any one advise you to abandon the search, " not 
 for mines of gold, or royal diadems," would be your 
 answer; " no, 'rather give up all than give up Christ." 
 And yet, you say, you have no love to him after whom 
 you long : no, not the smallest ! ! How strange, how 
 singular ! thus to run after one in whom you have no 
 interest ; thus to lament his absence with so much afflic- 
 tion. O ye favored children ! This afflicted look, this 
 oppressed mien, this painful lamentation, " I have lost 
 the Lord" this seeking and longing what is it but an 
 expressive, ( Thou, Thou, whom my soul loveth.' What 
 is itj however its reflection may be concealed from 
 yourselves, but a look of the purest love, which, be as- 
 sured, still exists and works unseen in the deep recesses 
 of the soul ; which, in the children of God, can never 
 be extinguished ; which survives the bitterest tempta- 
 tions, the greatest spiritual desertions, and proclaims, 
 under every change of circumstance, its existence and 
 life, by manifold, though not unfrequentlyby very faint, 
 manifestations. Yes, the lambs of Jesus always love 
 him; and even when the lamentation escapes them, 
 that they love him not, the tone in which the complaint 
 is uttered, imparts to it an entirely different meaning ; 
 and a sensitive ear distinctly perceives in it the tender 
 greeting, ' Thou whom my soul loveth.' 
 
 Ill, Having listened to the salutation of the afflict- 
 
SERMON V. 259 
 
 ed Bride, let us now hear what it is she really desires, 
 and what the nature of the inquiry she has addressed to 
 the Lord. * Tell me,' she says, ' O Thou whom my 
 soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy 
 flock to rest at noon ; for why should I be as one that 
 turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions V His 
 companions are the ministers of his word, the preachers 
 and prophets whom he has called ; and it is a great 
 honor, which Shulamite confers on them, when she 
 calls them the companions of Christ ! Elsewhere, we 
 are termed messengers in Christ's stead, and his fellow 
 laborers. To what dignity are we here raised ! Our 
 hearts might well be oppressed, and force us to exclaim, 
 " Lord God ! send another, I am not fit to preach." 
 The flocks of these companions, are those who have 
 believed through their word, their spiritual children. 
 Amongst these Shulamite had wandered ; but she had 
 no desire to do so longer ; what had it availed her ? 
 Nothing; no sermon, however beautiful, no devotional 
 exercises, no exhortations of the brethren, had been 
 able to make her depressed and withered heart again to 
 blossom, or to re- assure her sinking soul. ' Ah,' she 
 says, * suffer me no longer to wander in vain among 
 the flocks of thy companions ; but come to me thyself!' 
 But the words may likewise be rendered thus, * That I 
 may no longer be amongst the flocks of thy compa- 
 nions, as one veiled' that is, as a widow. " Ah," 
 she will say, " while thy other children boast of the 
 sweetness of thy presence, of the consolations they re- 
 ceive from thee, and of the frequency of thy visits ; 
 must I cast down my eyes in melancholy and silence ; 
 and be a barren tree amongst the fruitful, or as a sick 
 
260 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 lamb amongst the vigorous of the flock ? No one de- 
 rives benefit from me ; I am to the brethren as one 
 dead ; I have lost my beloved ; my friend has forsaken 
 me ; he cheers me no longer ; I am solitary and discon- 
 solate ; and shall I not wear the veil of mourning ? 
 Such is the state in which Shulamite describes herself 
 to be, and she prays the Lord to relieve her from it. 
 
 6 Tell me,' she says, f where thou feedest, where thou 
 makest thy flock to rest at noon.' Yes, that is what 
 she most desires to know. In the first place, where he 
 is in circumstances like those in which she then found 
 herself, where he really feedeth ? But what is it you 
 wish so much to know, beloved Shulamite ? We do 
 not understand your words. Do you inquire where he 
 would then find food for himself? Oh, he would .find 
 abundance in your heart, although you do not think so. 
 This anxiety about him, this seeking and longing, this 
 inquiry and running after your lost friend, he is well 
 pleased to see ; that is to him food, a delight, a sweet 
 repast ; even in the barren desert he can find food. But 
 probably you wish to know what food he has provided 
 for such poor miserable sheep as you have now become ? 
 Secret food, hidden pastures. He sustains them by an 
 unseen energy, with a concealed faith, of which they 
 are not sensible; and with a hope whose sweetness 
 they have not tasted ; but yet it is near them. He like- 
 wise sometimes feeds such afflicted lambs who know 
 not whether they belong to the Shepherd or not, upon 
 the field of their own early experience ; he conducts 
 them back in spirit to the period when they certainly 
 experienced the kiss of his love, and when he made his 
 covenant with them. With David they then remember 
 
SERMON V. 261 
 
 their song in the night ; and the recollection, in some 
 degree, revives their courage. Or he points them, in 
 . his word, to the promises which assure them that the 
 bruised reed shall not be broken, or the smoking flax be 
 quenched. In short j there is never any. want of food 
 and spiritual nourishment for Christ's sheep ; no, not 
 even when they, appear to wade in the sandy desert, 
 where no vegetation regales the eye, where not a blade 
 of grass presents itself to their longing appetites. e Tell 
 me/ the Shulamite asks -again, c where thoii resteth at 
 noon T That he rests that she knows, that she feels. 
 The sound of his footsteps she no longer hears, neither 
 can she perceive any trace of his presence or his influ- 
 ence, either within or around her. Ah, beloved soul, 
 if thou didst but know it, he rests quite 'near to thee, in 
 thy bark, in thy chamber ; yes, even in thy heart ;- 
 though indeed thou perceivest him not. Now she has 
 no rest till she -has again found him, till she again pos- 
 sesses him, and can say, * My beloved is mine, and I am 
 his : he feedeth among the lilies.' Without Him a oh ! 
 where can she be at peace, with all her sinfulness, her 
 misery, her weakness and infirmity ? No, she must 
 have him again ! She wanders from place to place ; 
 now she seeks him in the solitude of her closet, if per- 
 adventure she may find him there ; now she looks for 
 him amongst the assembled brethren, and asks, Is he 
 here 1 Then she searches for him in books and spirit- 
 ual songs, if by any means she may find him. All kinds 
 of advisers come to her ; " Oh !" they say, " be not so 
 vehement ; wait with patience, till the Lord shows him- 
 self again." But she indignantly rejects such counsel. 
 The matter is too urgent. She must seek him. Or, it 
 23 
 
262 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 is said, " Enjoy the beauties of nature, cheer yourself in 
 pleasant society." " Ah," she replies, " I covet no 
 rest, till I can enjoy it in the arms of Jesus." Her de- 
 jection increases, and she knows no other resource than 
 to call upon him, f Tell me, thou whom my soul loveth, 
 where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flocks to 
 rest at noon V 
 
 W. Thus she inquires, thus she laments. At length 
 she obtains an answer. The Bridegroom replies to her 
 with another question ; and he asks, ' Dost thou not 
 know, O thou fairest among women V In what a de- 
 lightful sense those words may be understood ! A child 
 in its distress flies to its mother for consolation ; she 
 listens to its complaints, and laughs away its tears. In 
 this sense must we understand the reply of Christ. Shu- 
 lamite stands mourning and distressed before him ; she 
 thinks herself black, and that she no longer belongs to 
 the fold. The Lord laughs at her complaint, and seems 
 to say, " Yes, thou hast really cause to be dejected 
 about thy soul !" " Shulamite," hast thou then forgot- 
 ten ? Dost thou really not know, O thou fairest among 
 women 1 Thou who art arrayed with the glory of the Sun, 
 who hast been made partaker of my nature, who art adorn- 
 ed with my righteousness, the righteousness of God ; wilt 
 thou hang down thy head as a bulrush ? O thou fairest 
 among women ! be sensible of thy glory ; for know I 
 have invested thee with my own ; and in truth no an- 
 gel is so beautiful as thou art. This is the meaning of 
 the words employed by Jesus. How often might they 
 be repeated ! How often do we meet with souls like 
 Shulamite, whose very appearance says, '. Do not look 
 
SERMON V. 263 
 
 upon me, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, I am altogether 
 too black.' They will perceive nothing of the Divine na- 
 ture in themselves ; they deem themselves at a great dist- 
 ance, and rather number all others among the children 
 of God, than themselves. Yet in all they say and do 
 the seal of the Lamb that they bear upon them is visi- 
 ble : their sighs, their patience, their hunger and thirst, 
 their love, all make it convincingly evident that they 
 are the children of God, and are clothed with the right- 
 eousness of Christ, or that none are. And still they 
 persist in believing that all with them is a delusion ; 
 and though we address them in the words of Christ, ' 
 thou fairest among women, dost thou really not know 
 thyself T What does it avail that we speak ? They 
 usually do not believe us. 
 
 V. But yet Shulamite is again to be comforted, and 
 to obtain peace. To this end the Lord gives her, in the 
 first instance, the good advice to go forth. To go forth ! 
 And from whence ? To go forth from herself. Un- 
 doubtedly much of our spiritual dejection arises chiefly 
 from our thoughts being too constantly turned within 
 ourselves, busied in the contemplation of our own frailty 
 and misery. We ought, indeed, to watch over our 
 hearts, and daily and hourly to be mindful of our wretch- 
 edness, misery, and sin ; but we ought likewise to look 
 out of ourselves. Many are as completely absorbed in 
 the thoughts of their own misery, as if there were noth- 
 ing else to be considered ; as if no cross had been erect- 
 ed, and no blood had flowed from it, to wash away sin. 
 They view their depravity, as if unatoned for on Golgo- 
 tha, as if there had been no Son of God to pay all our 
 
264 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 debts to the uttermost farthing ; as if through Christ 
 no paternal heart had been opened in heaven ; and as 
 if there were no such thing as free grace to justify the 
 sinner, requiring nothing,. but bestowing all. What 
 can possibly arise from so partial a consideration of our 
 state but dejection and anguish. Go forth, thou afflict- 
 ed soul, from the gloomy melancholy corner of thy 
 poor heart. Go forth to the pleasure garden of Geth- 
 semane ; visit Gabbatha, and the accursed tree of Gol- 
 gotha : .view the wedding garment, the glory that is 
 there prepared, and' which Eternal Love presents to 
 every longing sinner, let his inward state be ever so 
 wretched. Such sights and contemplations, in spite of 
 the dreary state of thy soul, will revive " thy courage. 
 Go forth also from thy great pretensions. Thy desires 
 are too vast ; thou requirest greater things than have been 
 promised to the children of God in this world. Thou 
 wouldst taste and see ; . but this is the time of faith, 
 away, away, with such pretensions. Dost thou desire 
 the sweets and pleasures of heaven ? Rejoice, O sinner, 
 if thou hast grace;, and let grace suffice thee. Thou 
 wouldst wish the Lord to lead thee in the way which 
 thou thyself prescribest. Go forth from these wishes ! 
 Offer them as a sacrifice. Go forth from thy own will, 
 and enter quietly and confidingly into the will of God ! 
 Let him do with thee what he pleaseth ; or wilt thou be 
 his counseller ? Let Him- pro vide for thee, and thou 
 wilt do well. All this the. Lord requires, when he 
 commands ' to go forth.' 
 
 Let us now inquire what further counsel the Lord 
 gives her ! ' Go forth,' he says, by the footsteps of the 
 flock.' The tendency of this advice likewise is to re- 
 
SERMON V. 266 
 
 store peace to the dejected Shulamite. In the first 
 place, it contains a serious reproof, similar to that which 
 was given to Peter ; when not altogether satisfied with 
 the career marked out for him by the Lord, he pointed 
 to John, to whom so rough a course was not assigned, 
 and presumed to ask, < And what shall this man do ?' 
 To which the Lord replied, * What is that to thee 1 fol- 
 low thou me.' He says the same to Shulamite, in the 
 words, < Go forth by the footsteps of the flock. Ob- 
 serve the sheep ; they do not wander where they please, 
 but they quietly and silently follow their shepherd. Do 
 thou likewise, my beloved Shulamite. Consider what 
 happens when one of the lambs goes a little astray from 
 the fold, how the Shepherd employs every means tore- 
 store it. Somewhat similar is the way that I deal with 
 my sheep.' This is what the Bridegroom will in the 
 first place intimate to her. But at the same time he 
 will point out the way in which she may again obtain 
 consolation. * Yes,' lie will say, ' I perceive clearly 
 that thou no longer knowest thyself, O thou fairest 
 among women. Thou art a child of God ; but thou 
 belie vest it not, and art a stranger to thyself. Thou 
 art lx>rn again ; but thou art no longer sensible of it 
 Thou art clothed with my righteousness, and hast every 
 reason to be joyful ; but thou canst not believe it. And 
 why not ? Because thou feelest thyself barren, and thy 
 spiritual life is not in a flourishing state. But that is 
 no ground for despair. Go forth by the footsteps of 
 the flock.' And Shulamite would certainly have done 
 so. But what are we to understand that she has done ? 
 She has observed other children of God, has considered 
 the ways of the saints ; and what has she there discov- 
 23* 
 
266 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 ered ? That she is no solitary bird upon the housetop ; 
 and that her experience has nothing peculiar, or un- 
 usual. Where did she find the footsteps of the saints '? 
 Alas ! not always on verdant . and luxuriant pastures, 
 but most frequently on rugged paths and obscure cross- 
 roads, in barren deserts and dreary wastes. The most 
 favored servants of God she has heard complain ; i Ah ! 
 my tongue cleaveth to the roof of my mouth-; my 
 strength is dried up like a potsherd !' The most holy 
 she has seen prostrate in the dust, groaning and com- 
 plaining. 
 
 And yet, miserable, as they were, the Lord was with 
 them ; they were still the people after God's own heart, 
 the apple of his eye, his peculiar care. But in due 
 time they had again their hours of refreshment ; and 
 showers of rain descended upon the parched and with- 
 ered meadows ; and at length, after all the difficulties 
 upon earth, their footsteps still shone above the clouds, 
 among the stars of heaven ; they took their place in 
 the midst of Paradise, and appeared among the holy 
 angels, before the throne of glory. Such was the dis- 
 covery made by the beloved Shulamite. O how en- 
 couraging and consoling was it to her,. to find that all 
 who had reached Canaan had traversed the same path 
 on which she then was. She could then again believe 
 that the Lord was with her ; that he guided and sus- 
 tained her, and that her path also would terminate in 
 glory. Thus she thought she had her Bridegroom 
 again ; she would again believe that He still holds her 
 by His right hand, though in darkness ; and her going 
 forth by the footsteps of the flock had been blessed and 
 consoling to her. 
 
SERMON V. 267 
 
 ye that are dejected and disconsolate, who, like 
 Shulamite, are languishing in the heat of mid-day, fol- 
 low her example. Turn your gaze and your reflec- 
 tions away from your own hearts, and from your own 
 misery. .Go forth to the ocean of mercy and love 
 which flows on Golgotha ; the sight will produce an 
 immediate change, and inspire you with other and more 
 agreeable meditations. Then go forth by the footsteps 
 of the flock, and learn that you tread the same path 
 that the most distinguished saints have trod before you. 
 This will support you ; it will revive your courage and 
 renew your hope. Then feed your kids and your young 
 lambs beside the shepherds' tents. The Bride is here 
 compared to a shepherdess with a flock of hungry 
 lambs. Her heart hungers, her spirit hungers, her un- 
 derstanding hungers, to comprehend the darkness that 
 surrounds her; her soul to be assured of the presence of 
 the Lord ; her weak faith hungers after strength, her 
 glimmering hope after food, and her expiring love to 
 be revived. O all ye weary souls, go ye likewise forth ; 
 and feed the kids beside the shepherds' tents. The 
 shepherds are the men of God, who have spoken by 
 the Holy Ghost, the ancient Fathers and Prophets, the 
 Evangelists and Apostles ; and where they speak, in- 
 struct and console ; in their revelations, in their ser- 
 mons, in their histories, and in their epistles ; there be- 
 hold their tents, and the most luxuriant pastures. There 
 learn that God is faithful ; that he ever views his peo- 
 ple with complacency ; and that, even when they have 
 left their first love, he recollects with delight the love of 
 their espousals, and their first surrender of themselves 
 to him. There learn that the entire foundation of your 
 
268 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 hope is not to be found within but without yourselves 
 That will strengthen your heart and enable you to wait 
 patiently till it please him again to pour down upon you 
 his quickening grace. Rouse, then, thy afflicted senses ! 
 Know thyself again, O Shulamite, thou fairest among 
 women, adorned with purple and jewels. Wait but a 
 little, and thy feet, after all thy doubts and fears, will 
 also tread the golden streets of the heavenly Jerusalem, 
 in the land of rest, and of an eternal sabbath. O sweet 
 termination of all complaints and sorrows ! The Spirit 
 and the Bride say, Come ! And let him who heareth 
 say, Come. And the Bridegroom saith, * I come quick- 
 ly. Yes, even so come, Lord Jesus !' Amen. 
 
SERMON VI. 
 
 SOLOMON'S SONG u. 1:2. 
 And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. 
 
 CHRIST, the heavenly Bridegroom, invites his Bride 
 to go forth to the hills, and to the mountains, to rejoice 
 with him in the verdure and bloom of a lovely spring. 
 It is not the spring of nature that she is invited to en- 
 joy. It is the influence of grace, the spring of spiritual 
 life, which the plastic breath of the Holy Ghost, the 
 comforter, has caused to put forth and blossom in the 
 soul of sinners. ' Rise up my love, my fair one, he 
 saith, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past ; 
 the rain is over and gone ; the flowers appear on the 
 earth ; the spring is come ; and the voice of the turtle 
 is heard in our land.' Let us dwell for a short time on 
 the last few words of our text, and, 
 I. Take a nearer view of the turtle, 
 n. Listen to its voice in the land. 
 
 I. The Bridegroom speaks of a dove, whose voice 
 is heard in the land on the verdure of spring. We 
 have already seen, that by the dove, in some places of 
 our song, the Shulamite. herself is intended ; but that 
 is not the case in the passage before us. Some com- 
 mentators have supposed that the Lord here describes 
 
270 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 the dawn of the period of the New Covenant ; and the 
 turtle dove they imagine to be the voice of the preacher 
 in the desert, the herald John. But under what. simili- 
 tude could this man, clothed in camel's hair, be less ap- 
 propriately represented than under that of a dove? 
 We are of opinion, that by the dove the Holy Ghost, 
 the comforter, can alone be understood. As the Son of 
 God condescended to choose the lamb for his symbol, 
 the Spirit, in like manner, selected the dove. To whom 
 does not the wonderful scene at Jordan at once occur '? 
 And the Spirit of the Lord belongs essentially to that 
 spring of grace; for it is produced by this bird of 
 heaven. That the spirit in the text is denominated the 
 turtle-dove, is of little importance. The Lord com- 
 pares the life of grace to the blossoming spring of na- 
 ture, and to this simile the turtle dove was more appro- 
 priate than the domestic pigeon. 
 
 In order to discover the full meaning of this signifi- 
 cant symbol, it w r ill be necessary to take history as our 
 guide. Three times the sacred volume presents to us 
 this image ; and each time the circumstances, the 
 epochs, and the designs are similar. In the first place, 
 Moses informs us, that the Spirit of God moved (lite- 
 rally rendered, brooded) upon the void and formless 
 earth. The Spirit, in as far as it assisted in the forma- 
 tion of the earth, and in preparing it as a theatre of 
 peace and joy, is here likewise compared to a bird 
 (beyond a doubt the dove) with her wings expanded, 
 as if brooding on her eggs. Some hundred years later 
 the dove appears to us again, and it is remarkable, 
 under decidedly similar circumstances and at a similar 
 epocha. Again, her wings are expanded over a waste 
 
SERMON V. 271 
 
 and void ; again she moves over the face of the waters, 
 but they are the thundering waters of the deluge 
 those devastating floods of wrath, in which, according 
 to the Scriptures, the first world was destroyed. Over 
 the vast watery grave of the former world she flies with 
 the green olive-leaf in her mouth, the lovely harbinger 
 of joy, hastening to convey to Noah the intelligence he 
 so much longed to receive. And what does her ap- 
 pearance with the green leaf in her mouth announce ? 
 It announces the termination of the Divine judgment, 
 the coming of a new creation ; it proclaims the com- 
 mencement of a time of grace ; of a reign of peace, 
 which, under, a new covenant, rich in promises, shall 
 spring up for sinful man. For the third time the dove 
 is seen on the banks of Jordan, resting on the head of 
 our Savior, when, in the great act of baptism, he 
 solemnly and formally took upon himself our guilt, and 
 silently acknowledged it as his own ; and now, tell me, 
 my friends, if this third appearance is not of similar im- 
 port with the first and second. Once again she moves 
 over the waters, but they are those of John's baptism, 
 in whose waves our Surety had just made, in the name 
 of our souls, the great confession of sin ; and in our 
 >i< ;ul had solemnly declared himself worthy of death, 
 and of the Divine wrath. Once again she appears 
 above a waste and void, above the desolation of hu- 
 manity, but whose ruin now rests on our substitute. 
 Once again she appears at the commencement of a new 
 creation of that which the Spirit purchased by the blood 
 of the lamb, will produce upon the earth ; and again 
 she is the harbinger of peace, joy, and mercy. We 
 hail thy appearance, O sacred dove, upon yonder silent 
 
272 . SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 desert, and as a beautiful messenger of peace, over the 
 baptismal waters of Jordan, that proclaim aloud our 
 sinfulness, and our worthiness of condemnation and 
 death. We might well have expected the eagle to flit 
 across the heavens, with the cry of Woe ! woe ! and 
 announcing eternal destruction to the world and its in- 
 habitants ; when behold, instead of the eagle, the dove 
 appears above the waste and void grace ! grace! is 
 the burden of her song, and peace and joy her welcome 
 salutation ! We bless and receive her with shouts of 
 joy ! O ye, who mourn and quake, why are ye cast 
 down ? The lion on the top of Sinai, and of Ebal, has 
 ceased to roar ; the olive branch becomes green in our 
 banners, and on the horizon of the new covenant days 
 the dove is seen to hover. 
 
 Do we ask on what ground the Holy Ghost has cho- 
 sen the Dove for its symbol 1 So many points of re- 
 semblance present themselves to our view, that, for the 
 sake of brevity, we must restrict our reflections to 
 those which are most striking and important. The 
 dove, this tender, faithful bird, has been at all times, 
 and amongst all people, an emblem of constant love ; 
 and in this respect, the Comforter may, with great pro- 
 priety, be compared to it. How astonishing. is the love 
 of the Eternal Father, who tore from his bosom his 
 - only Son, the child of his heart, to sacrifice him in the 
 flaming fire of his wrath, and to expose him to the rage 
 of hell, in order to snatch from the abyss of eternal tor- 
 ment a race obnoxious to death, and meriting destruc- 
 tion. Deep and unfathomable is the love of our Re- 
 deemer, who left a throne of majesty, to ascend the ac- 
 cursed tree, there to pour out his precious blood for the 
 
IIMON V. 273 
 
 servants of Belial and of sin ; to redeem, with this ines- 
 timable ransom, us wretches, against our will (for we 
 desired Him not), from the power of Satan and of hell. 
 No less great, wonderful, and unsearchable is the love of 
 the Spirit, who has voluntarily undertaken to destroy 
 the dragon's brood, to cleanse the dwellings of impuri- 
 ty, and the dens of rapine and of murder ; and who, in 
 the execution of his office, visits scenes of the most dis- 
 gusting depravity and lewdness. What chambers of 
 pollution are our hearts ! Like the cities of the plains, 
 how full of corruption and uncleanness ; but if the 
 Spirit once enters these Sodoms and Gomorrahs, he 
 departs not again till they are thoroughly purified. 
 How joyfully he causes the light of heaven to shine 
 into these habitations of darkness, and stores them with 
 the treasures of truth and wisdom contained in the 
 Scriptures, and from that fullness which is in Christ 
 Jesus. How unchanging and untiring is this love : 
 those who once become its objects can never be sever- 
 ed from its influence : ' I will send you another Comfort- 
 er, said the Savior, that he may abide with you for 
 ever.' But, alas, how often do his people stray from 
 Him, and lose themselves again in the world ; yet he 
 never forsakes them. How could he ? he pursues them 
 into the vortex of dissipation, and leaves them no peace 
 in their sins. He chastises, warns, invites them ; he 
 causes lucid intervals to break in upon them in the 
 midst of their revels : and never ceases to call after 
 them, Turn ye ! turn ye ! till they hear his voice, and 
 return dejected and afflicted to the fold from whence 
 they had wandered. Let none suppose that he will re- 
 ceive them with the bitterness of reproach, or over- 
 24 
 
274 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 whelm them with the thunders of his "wrath* Quite 
 the contrary. He seeks, by every means, to wipe away 
 the tears of his afflicted children, to inspire them with 
 confidence in the faithfulness of Jehovah } and repeat- 
 edly says to them, Weep not, there are gifts also, even 
 for the backsliding nay, and perhaps bestows upon 
 them unusual consolations ; if therefore the dove be in 
 truth the significant emblem of faithful love, it is the ap- 
 propriate symbol of the Comforter. Of all birds, the 
 dove is the cleanest and most delicate. In filthy places 
 she will not abide. Thus it is with the Comforter. 
 Many of you are ready to exclaim, but our hearts are 
 they not filthy 1 Indeed there is jio deficiency of impu- 
 rity there. But, let it be remembered, the dove is not 
 at rest within them. Is she not incessantly engaged in 
 detaching and expelling, in sweeping and garnishing ? 
 Her habitation must be cleansed, and she would never 
 have entered it, but for the 'certain prospect of eventual- 
 ly rendering it completely pure and free from taint. If 
 there be a spirit within you that can be at ease in the 
 midst of impurity, and that can endure iniquity, be as- 
 sured this spirit is not the dove. Where the dove re- 
 sides, there is a constant Conflict in the soul against the 
 seed of the serpent a holy and zealous desire to root up 
 every thorn, and to consume it with fire. This dove, saith 
 St. Paul, lusteth against the flesh, and the flesh against 
 the dove, and there is a constant warfare. Wliere the 
 Spirit dwells, the heart becomes the arena of strife j for 
 this Divine warrior rests not till he has bruised the head 
 of the last serpent within us, and destroyed the last 
 cockatrice egg. How sensitive is this heavenly dove ! 
 Of the dove it is said, that the feather of a falcon, or 
 
SERMON V. 275 
 
 hawk, is sufficient to make her flutter and tremble. 
 Thus it is with the Spirit in our hearts : if but the slight- 
 est impure thought arises within us, he is at once in 
 emotion. Horror seizes him, and he casts the abomina- 
 tion from him with disgust and indignation. Are you 
 sensible of the existence of such an uncompromising 
 enemy to impurity within you ? then rejoice, for the 
 dove is there. 
 
 The dove is gentle, and it is in this respect likewise a 
 striking image of the Spirit of grace. In the form of a 
 dove the Spirit descended upon Jesus. It was said of 
 him, * He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice 
 to be heard in the street. A bruised reed shall he not 
 break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench : he 
 shall bring forth judgment unto truth.' When the vil- 
 lage of Samaria had refused to receive the Lord, and 
 the two sons of thunder angrily exclaimed, ' Lord, wilt 
 thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, 
 and consume them, even as Elias did !' Jesus turned 
 and rebuked them, and said, * Ye know not what man- 
 ner of spirit ye are of.' The Spirit of Christ is like a 
 gentle dove. It judgeth not, thinketh no evil ; when 
 reviled, it revileth not again, and is not so ready to call 
 down fire from heaven. Where it enters, it introduces 
 the dispositions of the dove. How could it be other- 
 wise 1 It makes us feel that we are miserable sinners, 
 and convinces us that free grace alone can save us. 
 This humbles, silences, and renders us indulgent and 
 mild. Then we willingly cease from censuring others ; 
 we behold not the mote in our brother's eye, on account 
 of the beam in our own eye. It is unhappily true, that 
 the children of God do not unfrequently give way to 
 
276 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 anger, jealousy, and a censorious spirit, and all traces 
 of the dove are obscured. But on such occasions it is 
 not the dove that stirs within us, but the Leviathan of 
 the old man, that has again caused his voice to be heard ; 
 it is not Jacob, but Esau with his rough skin, that is in- 
 deed mortally wounded within us, though he has not 
 yet ceased to breathe. It is the flesh, and not the Spi- 
 rit. The Spirit is grieved ; it upbraids and chastens us, 
 and grants us no peace, till we are humbled and repent- 
 ant. Thus it is evidently a dove a spirit of peace and 
 love, mild and gentle. 
 
 Already inj the history of the creation, as we have 
 seen, the Holy Spirit is presented to us under the simili- 
 tude of a bird no doubt the dove. The Spirit of God, 
 it is said, brooded upon the face of the waters, as a bird 
 broods with extended wings upon its eggs. This figu- 
 rative expression indicates that the Spirit also took part 
 in the creation ; that it formed the was te and void, and 
 gave shape and beauty to the earth. And spiritually, 
 the Spirit is incessantly executing the same work in the 
 human mind. While the heart is still as chaos, a world 
 ruined by Satan, waste and void, and shrouded in the 
 darkness and blindness of unbelief, the Spirit, impelled 
 by love, descends and overshadows it, as it overshadow- 
 ed the Virgin. Now the command goes forth, ' Let 
 there be light !' and there is light. We look down into 
 the dark abyss of our desolate condition, and shudder 
 with horror. The light is separated from the darkness. 
 We perceive what we should be and what we are not. 
 We learn to jndge spiritually, and to discern good and 
 evil according to the rule of God's law. And God 
 calls the light day, and the darkness night. Thus be- 
 
SERMON V. 277 
 
 fore we are aware, the light of a new life has sprung up 
 within us, which scatters and expels the darkness of the 
 old ; and the evening and the morning are the first day. 
 Under the wings of the plastic breath of the Comforter, 
 this spiritual creation advances steadily towards perfec- 
 tion. The desolate soil thirsteth for grace, and is re- 
 freshed with the verdure of a new creation. The sacred 
 flowers of faith and love spring up. A new world is 
 called into existence. The morning stars extol the 
 power of grace, and the inward spiritual man, renewed 
 in the image of Christ, walks with delight in the bliss- 
 ful paradise of communion with his God. ' The Spirit 
 moved on the face of the waters.' Thus it is still in 
 the spiritual \vorld. Many waters rise upon the believ- 
 ing soul ; but the Spirit breaks through them all, main- 
 tains the ascendency, arid sustains the life it has impart- 
 ed. The sensuality of our sinful nature may be ac- 
 counted as one of these waters. How frequently do its 
 waves swell tumultuously ; but the Spirit still moves 
 above them. It resembles oil, which always floats up- 
 on the surface of water. Our sins of weakness may 
 likewise be accounted a water. When we fall, the oil 
 sinks ; yet it is but for a moment. Behold the tears of 
 Mary Magdalen, and of Peter after his fall ! The oil 
 rises to the surface ; the Spirit again moves upon the 
 face of the waters ! The afflictions which befall us may 
 likewise be numbered amongst the waters which rise 
 upon the soul. When they break in upon us, we are 
 alarmed ; we tremble and are dismayed. A raging 
 flood overwhelms the soul, and the spirit is in the deep. 
 But it is soon otherwise. Reflection comes, we bend 
 the^knee, and sigh, Lord help !' We throw ourselves 
 24* 
 
278 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 upon the tender mercy of the Eternal Father ; hope re- 
 vives, and we ask our soul, ' Why art thou cast down V 
 We believe, submit, and are again comforted. The 
 waters are forced back, the Spirit soars above them. 
 Worldly thoughts, and the cares of time, may also be 
 accounted waters. How frequently do they overwhelm 
 the soul like a mighty torrent, and keep it groveling in 
 this lower sphere. But the dove soon ascends out of 
 these tempestuous billows ; and with a tranquil mind, 
 with an unconstrained and elevated spirit, we are ena- 
 bled to rejoice in the midst of the tumult. Thus the 
 dove is never prevented from moving on the face of the 
 waters, and in every conflict is the last on the field. 
 
 When, however, the Scriptures speak of the Holy 
 Spirit as a dove, the allusion is especially to the dove 
 of Noah, that wished-for messenger bearing the symbol 
 of peace and of joy ; and it is his office of Comforter, of 
 which we are more particularly reminded by this de- 
 lightful figure, than of any other of his works and 
 offices. When the Savior testifies of the Spirit, ( He 
 shall take of mine, and shew it unto you,' does he not 
 designate him as the dove which shall bear the olive 
 branch to the ark of the New Testament Church. The 
 Spirit is the appropriator, the sealer of that which the 
 Son has wrought out for us. What was outwardly pre- 
 pared, he applies inwardly ; with the fruit of the cross 
 he nourishes the heart ; he causes the living waters of 
 the fountain opened to spring up within us, and he con- 
 veys the blood of the lamb, as a blood-sprinkling, into 
 the innermost soul. Oh what a delightful, welcome 
 vision, is this heavenly dove, when it appears unexpect- 
 edly with expanded wings above the swelling billows 
 
SERMON V. 279 
 
 of spiritual sorrow and conscious guilt, hastening with 
 messages of mercy towards the trembling and afflicted 
 soul. How blissful the calm after such a conflict, when 
 the Spirit testifies with ours, that we are the children of 
 God ; and the pledge of our eternal redemption is more 
 precious to us than crowns and sceptres. Now we sit 
 under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit is 
 sweet to our taste. Now all the promises of Scripture 
 are ours. The Bible appears to us a richly laden tree, 
 extending its branches towards us. On us the dying 
 eye of Jesus rests, when from the cross he casts a last 
 trembling look upon the earth ; on us he thinks, when 
 he exclaims, ' I lay down my life for my sheep ;' and 
 to us his blood-stained arms appear extended, while 
 stretched upon the tree. The consolation of reconcilia- 
 tion distils like honey, and diffuses itself through our in- 
 most being; the peace of God encompasses us; the 
 overcharged heart expands like the ocean ; the blessed 
 dove has deposited the oh' ve branch in the ark. 
 
 If we now reflect that the olive branch, whilst it is 
 a symbol of victory and of triumph, is likewise a deco- 
 ration of honor ; and that Noah, to whom the dove 
 brought the olive branch, was a type of Christ ; we 
 shall again perceive in this figure a trait of the Holy 
 Spirit, by which its existence in the converted soul is 
 verified. This heavenly dove also knows a worthy 
 head for every crown and garland ; and the ultimate 
 design of all its operations is to glorify the Lord Jesus. 
 It deprives the creature of all honor, to confer it on the 
 Lord, and on him exclusively ; it indelibly impresses 
 this sentiment on the believing heart : * Not unto us, O 
 Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for 
 
280 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 thy mercy, and for thy truth's sake ;' and it imparts to 
 the mind, that holy frame, which makes it recoil from 
 the slightest wish to magnify itself, as from an infernal 
 spirit of rebellion. The Savior himself says the same 
 of the Comforter : ( He shall testify of me.' 
 
 If then a spirit stir within you, whatever disguise it 
 may assume, which tempts you to magnify yourselves, 
 know that this spirit is not the dove. The dove will 
 exalt the Savior only. 
 
 II. Having thus glanced at the heavenly dove her- 
 self; let us now also listen to her voice: for her notes 
 are wonderful and enchanting. ' The voice of the tur- 
 tle,' says the Bridegroom to his Shulamite, ' is heard in 
 our land;' and we say, God be praised. What discord- 
 ant notes would have resounded through the world, if 
 no spirit but that of man had ever prevailed in it. There 
 has never been a time, in which this heavenly dove has 
 been perfectly silent upon earth. Here or there, in 
 gentle strains at least, she has ever caused her voice to 
 be heard. That which at the time of the flood, spake 
 by the mouth of Noah so warningly and so cheerihgly 
 to the hearts of sinners ~ } that which, in the patriarchal 
 world, proclaimed such glad tidings, and announced a 
 day at which Abraham rejoiced ; and that which spake 
 by Moses of a prophet, whom the Lord would raise up, 
 like unto him ; that which on the hill of Bethlehem in- 
 spired the sweet strains of the royal bard ; that which, 
 by the voice of the prophets, pronounced such wonder- 
 ful sayings, and revealed such sacred mysteries ; tell 
 me what was it ? What else, my brethren, but the 
 dove ; what else but the dove of that Spirit which 
 
SERMON V. 281 
 
 searches even the deep things of God, and which re- 
 sounds through all the promises. In the Bible, that 
 tree of life, she sits upon every branch, and her voice 
 may be heard in an endless variety of tone and modula- 
 tion ; - and those who have an ear for its melodies, know 
 how affectingly and thrillingly she sometimes sings, 
 how consoling and quickening her strains ; so that the 
 heart is penetrated, and almost dissolves in blissful 
 emotion. 
 
 The turtle dove is heard in our land ; not in the 
 Scriptures only, but also in the land of our hearts : and 
 here likewise her strains are harmonious, though varied. 
 True it is, that other birds also coo therein, but the notes 
 of the dove are easily distinguished. Dost thou hear, 
 for instance, a spirit commend to thee any thing but 
 Christ and his blood as the rock of thy salvation and 
 the ground of thy hope ; does it speak to thee of thy 
 good qualities, of the powers that slumber within thee ; 
 close thy door against it. It is not the dove, but the 
 raven. Does it cry, * Peace, peace ! there is no dan- 
 ger !' close thine ear ; there is an infernal spirit near 
 thee. Does it say, * Hasten from Sodom, and save thy 
 soul !' give ear to it, it is the dove. Does it tell thee, 
 1 Thy sins are too great for thee, there is no mercy !' 
 then arm thyself ; it is the lion's roar. Does it cry, 
 ' And if they be red like crimson, the blood of the Lamb 
 will make them white as wool !' it is the dove. Does 
 it say, * First become worthy, reform thyself, then come 
 to Jesus !' give it to the winds ; it is an erring spirit. 
 Does it say, ' Come as thou art, come boldly, for the 
 Savior receives sinners,' listen to its voice ; let it not 
 be said to thee twice ; for the turtle dove is heard in the 
 land. 
 
282 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 The voice of the sacred dove speaks to our hearts, 
 and .reverberates from therice in confessions, in exhorta- 
 tions, in prayer and praise ; and thus again its voice is 
 heard in the land. But is it always the voice of the 
 dove that is thus heard 1 It is true, the raven voice of 
 the old man sometimes imitates so successfully the voice 
 of the dove, that it requires a fine and practised ear, to 
 detect the raven's voice in such melodious sounds. 
 Even mental conflicts and states of feeling occur, in 
 which the Holy Spirit has not the slightsst share, and 
 which must be entirely ascribed to nature, and not to 
 grace ; and yet they so strongly resemble the operations 
 of the Spirit, that the clearest sight is often deceived, 
 and the nicest discernment frequently baffled. Here 
 the well-known event in the history of Jephtha, the hero 
 of Gilead, occurs to me, who, after he had defeated and 
 scattered the Ephraimites, took possession of the pas- 
 sages of Jordan, resolved that none of the fugitives 
 should return alive to their native land. Aware, per- 
 haps, of their conqueror's intention, but obliged to 
 cross the river, or perish in the desert, they approach 
 the ford, and deny that they are Ephraimites. They 
 are put to the test, all of them are required to pro- 
 nounce the word Shiboleth ! but they said Siboleth : 
 1 for they could not frame to pronounce it right ;' and 
 all were put to the sword. What a serious and im- 
 portant truth does this scene present to us. Before him 
 who holds the -ford, beyond which lies the Canaan of 
 God, all depends upon an apparent trifle. On the ex- 
 istence or non-existence of a something within us, irre- 
 spective of all other considerations, will it depend, 
 whether we shall be permitted to pass over, or whether 
 
SERMON V. 283 
 
 the sword of -his indignation shall descend upon us. 
 The spiritual resemblance between the man who is re- 
 jected, and the one who is accepted, may be as great 
 as that between Shiboleth and Siboleth. Who can de- 
 tect any material difference ? But God is a keen dis- 
 cerner. To him the difference in the characters of the 
 two men may be as decisive, as was to Jephtha that 
 between Shiboleth and Siboleth, which marked the 
 friendly Gileadite from the rebellious Ephraimite: Be- 
 hold here two men. Both smite upon their breast, both 
 weep, both call themselves the chief of sinners, and 
 both are sinners. We see their tears, we hear their 
 confessions. Both are afflicted, both complain. To us 
 no difference is visible ; we deem them both repentant 
 sinners ; and had we the crown of righteousness to 
 bestow, we should invest them with the same decora- 
 tions. Both appear at the passage of Jordan, both 
 stand before the Judge : and behold ! one only is 
 crowned, and the other is lost. Gracious God ! Why 
 should this be ? The one said Shiboleth, the other 
 Siboleth. We observed it not ; -but the Lord is a nice 
 discerner. Only Si instead of Shi, but the difference 
 is sufficient to cause an eternal separation. The one 
 smote upon his breast from fear, the other from love. 
 Hell made the one to weep, the cross the other. The 
 complaint of the one was : Oh that I should have in- 
 curred such guilt ! the complaint of the other was : Ah, 
 that I should have caused thee, Lord Jesus, so much 
 suffering ! The one lamented the consequences of sin ; 
 the other, the transgressions themselves. Sin had not 
 extorted a tear from the one, had it not rendered him 
 miserable, for he thought but of his comfort ; the other 
 
284 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMTTE. 
 
 would have abhorred sin, though it had exercised no 
 influence over his peace ; for he sought the honor of 
 his God. In short, when the characters of the two 
 were developed, it was apparent that selfishness pro- 
 duced repentance in the one, and that the tears of the 
 other were those of love. In the one was concealed a 
 repentant Cain ; in the other, a weeping Magdalene. 
 In the one nature predominated ; in the other, grace. 
 A difference less perceptible than that in Shiboleth 
 and Siboleth, yet immeasurably great, and lasting as 
 eternity ! Two men sit by the way side. Both cry, 
 ( Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me !' Nei- 
 ther of them are hypocrites, but both mean what they 
 say. We pronounce both blessed ; but will the Judge 
 confirm our sentence ? At the passage of Jordan it 
 will be decided. Though their acts have been the 
 same, a mighty wind may there separate them for 
 ever ; raising the one on high, while it precipitates the 
 other into the abyss. And why should it be so ? To 
 us it seemed, that both had said Shiboleth. Alas ! the 
 one had only said Si ; we did not observe it. That was 
 his ruin. The one cried to the Savior like Bartimeus, 
 and the thief on the cross ; the other, like the devils ; 
 ( Lord do not command us to go down into the deep.' 
 The one thought within himself: ' Ah, if I had but 
 Jesus, what need I care for heaven !' The other, f Ah, 
 if I had but heaven, what need I care for Jesus !'* The 
 one sighed for the love of Christ : the other for his 
 saving hand. The cry of the one marked the fervor o 
 the lover ; that of the other, the despair of the helpless 
 
 * This is according to Luther's translation'of Ps. Ixxiii. 25. ED. 
 
SERMON V. 285 
 
 anxious for salvation, but indifferent by whom it is 
 effected : the devil would be as welcome as Jesus, pro- 
 vided he could as effectually save from perdition. To 
 our dull senses this was not perceptible. But he who 
 sits upon the throne heard at once that it was not the 
 Shiboleth of the Gileadite. His ear listens for the voice 
 of the dove. Nothing but Spirit and truth can stand 
 before him. 
 
 We cannot say, therefore, that true heartfelt Chris- 
 tianity consists in tears, in penitence, or in an earnest 
 longing after the bliss of heaven. We cannot say it 
 consists in prayers, in Christian deportment, or in evan- 
 gelical knowledge. Neither does it consist in love for 
 the Gospel, in the emotions it awakens within us, or in 
 zeal for the spread of Divine truth. Nor in an open 
 confession of Christ, and the ability to testify and speak 
 of him with eloquence, edification, and instruction. 
 Brethren all this may only constitute a Siboleth ; and 
 woe be to us, if at the passage of Jordan it should so 
 appear. It may all proceed from the natural man, and 
 be the mere workings of a selfish nature. But nothing 
 'vill stand the Divine scrutiny, that is not the work and 
 produce of the Spirit, and the essence of which is not 
 the love of Christ. 
 
 That it is sometimes impossible for the nicest dis- 
 cernment to distinguish between seemingly devout sen- 
 timents, whether they are the effusions of the Spirit, or 
 the mere promptings of the natural man, we have al- 
 ready seen. But there are cases, in which a difference 
 may be perceived, like that between Shiboleth and Sibo- 
 leth, by which we recognize at once a Gileadite or an 
 Ephraimite. In sermons, hymns, books, and prayers, 
 25 
 
286 SOLOMON AND -THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 though equally correct and true, devout and evangeli- 
 cal, there is a certain something which we feel but can- 
 not describe, by which we are enabled to say, " Here is 
 the dove, and here some other bird ; this is the spirit, 
 and this nature ; this is genuine, and this spurious ; this 
 is life, but this a portrait." 
 
 The dove speaks through the children of God ; but 
 not always in the same accents. Sometimes its strains 
 are sorrowful, interrupted by sighs and tears : ' Lord 
 Jesus, have mercy on me !' At others languishing, and 
 expressive, of the most ardent longings : ' Ah, when 
 shall I depart hence, that I may behold thy glory ?' 
 Now they are those of dejection and complaint : ( 
 wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from 
 the body of this death V Then they breathe the rap- 
 tures of nuptial joy : ' My beloved is mine, and I am 
 his :, he feedeth among the lilies !' They are some- 
 times eloquent and persuasive : ' Come and hear, all ye 
 that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for 
 my soul !' Then again they are short and'ejaculatory ; 
 a single ' Ah !' or Oh !' is all that we can hear but 
 they are tones that reverberate through the choirs of 
 heaven. Sometimes it ascends in sighs and groans : 
 ' Put not thy servant away in anger : thou hast been my 
 help.' Again its voice is heard through deep conflict 
 and distress; in gentle accents it is true, but distinct 
 and full of consolation. The powers of darkness may 
 sometimes succeed in bewildering a redeemed soul, by 
 confounding all its evidences; by subverting its faith in 
 the Rock of its hope, and in the sacred volume; till, in 
 its perplexity, it is tempted to renounce all belief in a 
 God or Savior, in a heaven or hell. What can here be 
 
SERMON V. 287 
 
 perceived of the note of the dove ? Nothing, we are 
 ready to reply. Here the raven's croak is heard. But 
 let us listen attentively. It is true that in doubters, as 
 such, the voice of the dove is not heard. But it may 
 be recognized in the accents of complaint in which the 
 tempted and benighted soul gives utterance to its 
 doubts ; in the sighs and groans with which it laments 
 its unbelief; in the longing, wrestling supplications 
 which the heart pours forth to the Lord, that He would 
 again cause his light to shine. Thus, amongst the 
 saints of God, it causes its voice to be heard in an end- 
 less variety of ways, and diversity of modulation : but 
 it is every where the same dove. 
 
 The turtle dove is heard in the land ! God be prais- 
 ed, a period has already dawned, in which these words 
 have a delightful application to the land in which we 
 dwell. The drooping and expiring church of Christ be- 
 gins to revive, and put forth blossoms ; the frosty night 
 of winter has begun to yield to the genial breath of 
 spring, promising a more glorious future ; and the tur- 
 tle, so long banished and forgotten, has re-appeared in 
 the land. How many congregations, that once heard 
 nothing but the raven-like croakings of the most com- 
 fortless unbelief, are now refreshed by the voice of the 
 dove. What testimonies to the truth, what prayers and 
 praises, have of late again been heard in the church ; 
 and the presence of the dove has been most manifest 
 and refreshing. But the brightness that shines in our 
 day, is but the opening splendor of an incomparably 
 more glorious period that is rapidly approaching. Mag- 
 nificent promises hang suspended over the church, like 
 clouds pregnant with blessings. Blessed assurances, 
 
288 SOLOMON AND THE SHULAMITE. 
 
 like sweet messengers of joy, stand at her portals. O 
 Shulamite, wait and be comforted ! Let not the tem- 
 pests and horrors which here and there may rage, ex- 
 cite thy fears. It is but the struggle between spring and 
 winter, between life and death. Death will be vanquish- 
 ed ; and when thou least expectest, it will again be said 
 to thee, but in a fuller and more exalted sense, ' Rise 
 up, my love, my fair one, and come away : for, lo, the 
 winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers 
 appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is 
 come ; and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land !' 
 blessed period ! may the Lord hasten it. Amen. 
 

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