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LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON,     N.    J. 

John  M.  Krebs  donation. 


BV  4921  .S6  1857 
Spurgeon,  Charles  Haddon, 

1834-1892. 
The  saint  and  his  Saviour 


LI 


THE 


SAIIT  AND  HIS  SAYIOUE; 


THE  PROGRESS   OF  THE  SOUL  IN  THE 
KNOWLEDGE   OF  JESUS. 


BY 

THE    EEY.   C.  H.  SPUKGEOJST. 


"Cairiat  ia  aU."— Col.  iii.  11. 


NEW    YOEK: 

SHELDON,   BLAKEMAN    &    COMPANY. 
BOSTON:    GOULD    &    LINCOLN, 

CHICAGO  :    S.    C.    GRIGGS    &   CO. 

1857. 


•'  The  special  work  of  our  ministry  is  to  lay  open  Christ,  to  hold  up  the 
tapestry  and  unfold  the  mysteries  of  Christ.  Let  us  labour  therefore  to  be 
always  speaking  somewhat  about  Christ,  or  tending  that  way.  When  we  speak 
of  the  law,  let  it  drive  us  to  Christ;  when  of  moral  duties,  let  them  teach  us  to 
walk  worthy  of  Christ.  Christ,  or  something  tending  to  Christ,  should  be  our 
theme,  and  mark  to  aim  at." 

SiBBS. 

"And  surely  this  is  the  sweetest  subject  that  ever  was  preached  on;  is  it  not 
as  ointment  poured  forth,  whose  smell  is  so  fragrant,  and  whose  savour  is  so 
Bweet,  that  therefore  all  the  virgins  love  him?  Is  it  not  a  subject  whicli  com- 
prehends all  the  glory  and  excellency  arfd  beauty  of  all  the  things  in  heaven 
and  in  earth  ?" 

Isaac  Ambbose. 


W.  H.  TiKSON,  Stereotypcr.  J.  J.  Rked,  Printer. 


TO 

THE  ONE  GOD  OF  HEAVEN  AND  EARTH, 

IN 

THE    TRINITY    OF    HIS    SACRED    PERSONS, 

BE    ALL    HONOUR   AND    GLORY, 

WORLD   WITHOUT    END, 

AMEN. 

TO    THE    GLORIOUS    FATHER, 

AS  THE 
COVENANT  GOD  OF  ISRAEL; 

TO  THE  GRACIOUS  SON, 

THE  REDEEMER  OF  HIS  PEOPLE  ; 

TO    THE    HOLY    GHOST, 

THE     AUTHOR     OF     SA NOTIFICATION; 

BE    EVERLASTING    PRAISE    FOR   THAT    EXPERIENCE    OF   FREE    GRACE 

AND    SOVEREIGN    LOVE 

WHICH   IS   SIMPLY   DESCRIBED    IN   THIS   VOLUME. 


PREFACE 


I  HAVE  no  idea  of  what  I  am  expected  to  say  in 
a  preface,  and  am  of  opinion  that  a  book  is  better 
without  an  appendage  usually  so  unmeaning.  I 
will,  however,  make  one  or  two  faithful  declarations 
which  may,  perhaps,  shield  me  from  the  reader's 
wrath,  should  he  find  my  work  of  less  value  than 
he  expected. 

!N"ever  was  a  book  written  amid  more  incessant 
toil.  Only  the  fragments  of  time  could  be  allotted 
to  it,  and  intense  mental  and  bodily  exertions  have 
often  rendered  me  incapable  of  turning  even  those 
fragments  to  advantage. 

Writing  is  to  me  the  work  of  a  slave.  It  is  a 
delight,  a  joy,  a  rapture  to  talk  out  one's  thoughts 
in  words  that  flash  upon  the  mind  at  the  instant 
when  they  are  required  ;  but  it  is  poor  drudgery  to 
sit  still  and  groan  for  thoughts  and  words  without 
succeeding  in  obtaining  them.  "Well  may  a  man's 
books  be  called  his  "works,"  for,  if  every  mind 
were  constituted  as  mine,  it  would  be  work  indeed 
to  produce  a  quarto  volume.     Nothing  but  a  sense 


VI  PKEFACE. 

of  duty  has  impelled  me  to  finish  this  book,  which 
has  been  more  than  two  years  on  hand.  Yet  have 
I,  at  times,  so  enjoyed  the  meditation  which  ray 
writing  has  induced,  that  I  would  not  discontinue 
the  laboui'  were  it  ten  times  more  irksome:  and 
moreover,  I  have  some  hopes  that  it  may  yet  be  a 
pleasure  to  me  to  serve  God  with  the  pen  as  well 
as  the  lip. 

The  subject  of  religious  experience  is  a  very 
wide  one,  and  those  points  of  it  upon  which  I  have 
touched  deserve  larger  notice  from  a  far  abler  hand 
than  mine.  The  aged  Christian  will  find  very  little 
instruction  here ;  it  will  not  be  j)roper  for  him  to 
expect  it  when  he  is  reminded  of  the  object  of  the 
volume.  It  has  been  my  aim  to  deal  only  with  the 
more  common  and  shallow  experiences  of  beginners, 
and  I  have  left  the  great  deeps  for  those  who  have 
long  done  business  upon  them.  To  comfort  the 
mourner,  to  confirm  the  weak,  to  guide  the  wander- 
ing, and  reassure  the  doubting  has  been  my  great 
desire.  If  I  may  but  hear  of  some  trembling  sin- 
ners led  to  Jesus  by  the  following  pages,  or  of  some 
distressed  believer  enabled  to  rejoice,  it  will  be  an 
ample  recompence  to  me. 

I  have  dedicated  the  work  to  God,  and  I  now 
crave  His  abundant  blessing  upon  it. 

Clapham,  September^  1857. 


COKTEKTS 

4 


The  Despised  Friend. 


CHAPTER   I. 

PAGE 


CHAPTER  n. 
Faithful  Wounds , 43 

CHAPTER  in. 
Jesus  Desired 99 

CHAPTER   IV. 
Jesus  Pardoning 155 

CHAPTER  y. 
Jot  at  Conversion 175 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Complete  in  Christ 21Y 


Vlll  COI^TENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

'     PAQB 

LoTE  TO  Jesus 241 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Love's  Logic 272 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Jesus  in  the  Hour  of  Trouble 315 

CHAPTER  X. 
Jesus  Hiding  Himself 354 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Causes  of  Apparent  Desertion 378 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Communion  Preserved 413 


THEOLOu      

THE  SAINT  AND  HIS  SAVIOUR 


I. 

THE    DESPISED    FRIEND 


*'  We  esteemed  liim  not." — Isa.  liii.  3. 

It  would  not  be  easy  for  some  of  us  to  recall  the 
hour  when  we  first  heard  the  name  of  Jesns.  In 
very  infancy  that  sweet  sound  was  as  familiar  to  our 
ear  as  the  hnsh  of  lullaby.  Our  earliest  recollec- 
tions are  associated  with  the  house  of  God,  the 
family  altar,  the  Holy  Bible,  the  sacred  song,  and 
the  fervent  prayer.  Like  young  Samuels,  we  were 
lighted  to  our  rest  by  the  lamps  of  the  sanctuary, 
and  were  awakened  by  the  sound  of  the  morning 
hymn.  Many  a  time  has  the  man  of  God,  whom  a 
parent's  hospitality  has  entertained,  implored  a 
blessing  on  our  head,  desiring  in  all  sincerity  that 
we  might  early  call  the  Redeemer  blessed ;  and  to 
his  petition  a  mother's  earnest  "  Amen "  has 
solemnly  responded.     Ours   were  happy  portions 


10  THE   SAINT  AND   HIS   SAVIOrE. 

and  goodly  heritages;  but  nevertlieless,  being  ''born 
in  sin,  and  sliapen  in  iniquity,"  these  heavenly  pri- 
vileges did  not  of  themselves  avail  to  give  us  love 
to  Jesus,  and  pardon  by  his  blood. 

We  are  often  compelled  to  weep  over  sins  aggra- 
vated b}^  light  as  clear  as  noonday — ordinances  un- 
dervalued from  their  very  frequency — warnings 
despised,  although  accompanied  with  tears  from  a 
parent's  eye — and  loathings  felt  in  the  heart,  if  not 
expressed  by  the  lips,  to  those  very  blessings  which 
were  the  rich  benisons  of  heaven.  In  our  own  per- 
sons we  are  witnesses  to  the  fact  of  innate  depra- 
vity, the  birth-plague  of  man ;  and  we  can  testify- 
to  the  doctrine  that  grace,  and  grace  alone,  can 
change  the  heart.  The  words  of  Isaiah  are  ours 
with  an  emphasis,  notwithstanding  all  the  hallowed 
influences  which  surrounded  us :  and  in  uttering 
the  confession,  "  we  esteemed  him  not,"  the  haunts 
of  our  childhood,  the  companions  of  our  youth,  and 
the  sins  of  our  manhood,  unanimously  confirm  our 
truthfulness. 

Starting,  then,  with  our  own  experience,  we  are 
led  to  infer  that  those  who  were  denied  our  advan- 
tages will  certainly  be  compelled  to  adopt  the  same 
humble  language.  If  the  child  of  pious  parents, 
wdio  by  divine  power  was  in  youth  brought  to  know 
the  Lord,  feels  constrained  to  acknowledge  that 
once  he  did  not  esteem  the  Saviour,  shall  the  man 
whose  education  was  irreligion,  whose  childhood 


THE   DESPISED   FEIEND.  11 

was  riot,  whose  yoiitli  was  license,  and  whose  ma- 
turity was  crime,  be  able  to  adopt  language  less 
humiliating?  No;  we  believe  that  all  men  of  this 
class,  who  are  now  redeemed  from  the  hand  of  the 
enemy,  will  readily  acknowledge  that  they  were 
the  blind  neglecters  of  the  beauties  of  our  gloriou,s 
Emmanuel.  Aye,  more,  we  venture  to  challenge 
the  "  Church  of  the  first-born"  to  produce  a  single 
saint  who  did  not  once  pass  by  tlie  cross  with  indif- 
ference, if  not  contempt. 

"Whether  we  review  the  "  noble  army  of  mar- 
tyrs," "the  goodl}^  fellowship  of  the  prophets,"  "the 
glorious  company  of  the  apostles,"  or  "tile  holy 
Church  throughout  all  the  world,"  we  shall  not  dis- 
cover a  sin2:le  lover  of  the  adorable  Eedeemer  who 
will  not  join  the  general  confession,  ""We  esteemed 
him  not." 

Pause,  attentive  reader,  and  ask  thyself  whether 
thou  dost  esteem  him  now  ^  for  possibly  it  may 
happen  that  thou  hast  not  as  yet  seen  in  him  any 
"  beauty  that  thou  shouldest  desire  him,"  nor  canst 
thou  subscribe  to  the  exclamation  of  the  spouse, 
"Yea,  he  is  altogether  lovely."  Should  this  be 
thine  unhappy  condition,  a  meditation  thereon  may,, 
under  the  Holy  Spirit's  influence,  be  of  much  use 
to  thee ;  and  I  beseech  thee,  while  we  unfold  the 
secrets  of  what  was  once  our  prison-house,  be  thou 
intensely  anxious  that  by  any  means  thou  also  may- 
est  escape  a  bondage  which  deprives  thee  of  joy 


12  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

here,   and   will    shut   thee   out  from    bliss  here- 
after. 

"We  propose  to  endeavour  first  of  all  to  bring  the 
fact  of  our  light  estimation  of  Jesus  vividly  before 
our  eye  ;  then,  secondly,  we  will  discuss  the  causes 
of  this  folly ;  and,  thirdly,  seek  to  excite  emotions 
proper  to  such  a  mournful  contemplation. 

I.  Let  us  go  to  the  potter's  house,  and  view  the 
unshapen  clay  which  we  once  were  ;  let  us  remem- 
ber "the  rock  whence  we  w^ere  hewn,"  and  the 
"hole  of  the  pit  from  which  we  were  digged," 
that  we  may  with  deeper  feeling  repeat  the  text, 
"  We  esteemed  him  not."  Let  us  here  seriously 
peruse  the  diary  of  memory,  for  there  the  witnesses 
of  our  guilt  have  faithfully  recorded  their  names. 

We  pause,  and  consider  first  ou?'  overt  acts  ofsiii, 
for  these  lie  like  immense  boulders  on  the  sides  of 
the  hill  of  life,  sure  testifiers  to  the  rock  within. 

Few  men  would  dare  to  read  their  own  autobi- 
ography, if  all  their  deeds  were  recorded  in  it ;  few 
can  look  back  upon  their  entire  career  without  a 
blush.  "  We  have  all  sinned  and  come  short  of 
his  glory."  None  of  us  can  lay  claim  to  perfection. 
True,  at  times  a  forgetful  self-complacency  bids  us 
exult  in  the  virtue  of  our  lives ;  but  when  faithful 
memory  awakes,  how  instantly  she  dispels  the  illu- 
sion? She  waves  her  magic  wand,  and  in  ^he 
king's  palace,  frogs  arise  in  multitudes ;  the  pure 


THE   DESPISED   FRIEND.  13 

rivers  at  her  glance  become  blood  ;  tlie  whole  land 
is  creeping  with  loathsomeness.  Where  we  ima- 
gined purity,  lo,  imperfection  ariseth.  The  snow- 
wreath  of  satisfaction  melts  before  the  sun  of  truth ; 
the  nectared  bowl  of  gratulation  is  embittered  by 
sad  remembrances ;  while,  under  the  glass  of 
honesty,  the  deformities  and  irregularities  of  a 
life  apparently  correct  are  rendered,  alas !  too 
visible. 

Let  the  Christian,  whose  hair  is  whitened  by  the 
sunlight  of  heaven,  tell  his  .life-long  story.  He  may 
have  been  one  of  the  most  upright  and  moral,  but 
there  will  be  one  dark  spot  in  his  history,  upon 
which  he  will  shed  the  tear  of  penitence,  because 
then  he  knew  not  the  fear  of  the  Lord.  Let  yon 
heroic  warrior  of  Jesus  recount  his  deeds ;  but  he 
too  points  to  deep  scars,  the  offspring  of  wounds  re- 
ceived in  the  service  of  the  Evil  One.  Some 
amongst  our  chosen  men,  in  their  days  of  unregene- 
racy,  were  notorious  for  guilt,  and  could  well  write 
with.  Bunyan^ — "  As  for  my  own  natural  life,  for 
the  time  that  I  was  without  God  in  the  world, 
it  was,  indeed,  according  to  the  course  of  this  world 
and  the  spirit  that  now  worketh  in  the  children  of 
disobedience  (Eph.  ii.  2,  3).  It  was  my  delight  to 
be  taken  captive  by  the  devil  at  his  will  (2  Tim.  ii. 
26),  being   filled  with  all  unrighteousness ;    the 

*  Grace  Abounding. 


14:  THE   SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

wliicli  did  also  so  strongly  work,  botli  in  my  heart 
and  life,  that  I  had  but  few  equals,  both  for  curs- 
ing, swearing,  lying,  and  blaspheming  the  holy 
name  of  God."  Suffice  it,  however,  that  by  each 
of  us  open  sins  have  been  committed,  which  mani- 
fest that  '^  we  esteemed  him  not." 

Could  we  have  rebelled  ao-ainst  om-  Father  with 
so  high  a  hand,  if  his  son  had  been  the  object  of 
our  love  ?  Should  we  have  so  perpetually  tram- 
j)led  on  the  commands  of  a  venerated  Jesus  ? 
Could  we  have  done  such  despite  to  his  authority, 
if  our  hearts  had  been  knit  to  his  adorable  person  ? 
Could  we  have  sinned  so  terribly,  if  Calvary  had 
been  dear  to  us  ?  Kay  ;  surely  our  clouds  of  trans- 
gressions testify  our  former  want  of  love  to  him. 
Had  we  esteemed  the  God-man,  should  we  so 
entirely  have  neglected  his  claims?  could  we  have 
wholly  forgotten  his  loving  words  of  command  ? 
Do  men  insult  the  persons  they  admire?  "Will 
they  commit  high  treason  against  a  king  they  love  ? 
Will  they  slight  the  person  they  esteem,  or  wan- 
tonl}^  make  sport  of  him  they  venerate?  And  yet 
we  have  done  all  this,  and  more  ;  whereby  the 
least  word  of  flattery  concerning  any  natural  love 
to  Christ  is  rendered  to  our  now  honest  hearts  as 
hateful  as  the  serpent's  hiss.  These  iniquities 
might  not  so  sternly  prove  us  to  have  despised  our 
Lord  had  they  been  accompanied  by  some  little 
service  to  him.     Even  now,  when  we  do  love  his 


THE   DESPISED   FRIEND.  15 

name,  ^ye  are  oft  iinfaitlifiil,  but  now  our  affection 
helps  us  "  to  creep  in  service  where  we  cannot 
go  ;"  but  hefore  our  acts  were  none  of  them  sea- 
soned with  the  salt  of  sincere  affection,  but  were 
all  full  of  the  gall  of  bitterness.  O  beloved,  let  us 
not  seek  to  avoid  the  weight  of  this  evidence,  but 
let  us  own  that  our  gracious  Lord  has  much  to  lay 
to  our  charge,  since  we  chose  to  obey  Satan  rather 
than  the  Captain  of  salvation,  and  preferred  sin  to 
holiness. 

Let  the  self-conceited  Pharisee  boast  that  he  was 
born  free — we  see  on  our  wrists  the  red  marks  of 
the  iron  ;  let  him  glory  that  he  was  never  blind — 
our  eyes  can  yet  remember  the  darlcness  of  Egypt. 
in  which  we  discerned  not  the  morning  star.  Others 
may  desire  the  honour  of  a  merited  salvation — we 
know  that  our  highest  ambition  can  only  hope  for 
pardon  and  acceptance  by  grace  alone ;  and  well 
we  remember  the  hour  when  the  only  channel  of 
that  grace  was  despised  or  neglected  by  us.  ^ 

The  Book  of  Truth  shall  next  witness  against  us. 
The  time  is  not  yet  erased  from  memory  when  this 
sacred  fount  of  living  water  was  unopened  by  us, 
our  evil  hearts  j)laced  a  stone  over  the  mouth  of  the 
well,  which  even  conscience  could  not  remove. 
Bible  dust  once  defiled  our  fingers;  the  blessed  vo- 
lume was  the  least  sought  after  of  all  the  books  in 
the  library. 

Though  now  we  can  truly  say  that  His  word  is 


16  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

"  a  matcUess  temj)le  where  we  delight  to  be,  to 
cotemplate  the  beauty,  the  symmetry,  and  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  structure,  to  increase  our  awe,  and 
excite  our  devotion  to  the  Deity  there  preached 
and  adored  ;"*  yet  at  one  sad  period  of  our  lives 
we  refused  to  tread  the  jewelled  floor  of  the  tem- 
ple, or  when  from  custom's  sake  we  entered  it,  we 
paced  it  with  hurried  tread,  unmindful  of  its  sanc- 
tity, heedless  of  its  beauty,  ignorant  of  its  glories, 
and  unsubdued  by  its  majesty. 

Now  we  can  appreciate  Herbert's  rapturous  affec- 
tion expressed  in  his  poem  : — • 

*'  Oh  book  !  infinite  sweetness !  let  my  heart 
Suck  every  letter,  and  a  honey  gain, 
Precious  for  any  grief  in  any  part ; 

To  clear  the  breast,  to  molUfy  all  pain." 

But  then  every  ephemeral  poem  or  trifling  novel 
could  move  our  hearts  a  thousand  times  more  easily 
than  this  ^'book  of  stars,"  "this  god  of  books." 
Ah !  well  doth  this  neglected  Bible  prove  us  to 
have  esteemed  Jesus  but  lightly.  Yerily,  had  we 
been  full  of  affection  to  him,  we  should  have  sought 
him  in  his  word.  Here  he  doth  unrobe  himself, 
showing  his  inmost  heart.  Here  each  page  is 
stained  witJi  drops  of  his  blood,  or  emblazoned  with 
rays  of  his  glory.     At  every  turn  we  see  him,  as 

*  Boyle. 


THE  DESPISED  FEIEND.  17 

divine  and  human,  as  dying  and  yet  alive,  as  bu- 
ried but  now  risen,  as  tlie  victim  and  the  priest,  as 
tbs  prince  and  saviour,  and  in  all  those  various 
offices,  relationships  and  conditions,  each  of  which 
render  him  dear  to  his  people  and  precious  to  his 
saints,  Oh  let  us  kneel  before  the  Lord,  and  own 
that  "we  esteemed  him  not,"  or  else  we  should 
have  wdked  with  him  in  the  fields  of  Scripture,  and 
held  con'jmunion  with  him  in  the  spice-beds  of  in- 
spiration. 

The  Throne  of  Grace,  so  long  unvisited  by  us, 
equally  proclaims  our  former  guilt.  Seldom  were 
our  cries  heaid  in  heaven ;  our  petitions  were  for- 
mal and  lifeless,  dying  on  the  lip  which  carelessly 
pronounced  them.  Oh  sad  state  of  crime,  when 
the  holy  offices  of  adoration  were  unfulfilled,  the 
censer  of  praise  smoked  not  with  a  savour  accepta- 
ble unto  the  Lord,  nor  were  the  vials  of  prayer  fra- 
grant with  precious  odours ! 

Unwhitened  by  devotion,  the  da^^s  of  the  calen- 
dar were  black  with  sin ;  unimpeded  by  our  sup- 
plication, the  angel  of  judgment  speeded  his  way 
to  our  destruction.  At  the  thought  of  those  days 
of  sinful  silence,  our  minds  are  humbled  in  the 
dust ;  and  never  can  we  visit  the  mercy-seat  with- 
out adoring  the  grace  which  affords  despisers  a 
ready  welcome. 

But  why  went  not  "  our  heart  in  pilgrimage  ?" 
Why  sung  we  not  that  "  tune  which  all  thing's  hear 


18  THE   SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

and  fear?"  Wliy  fed  we  not  at  "the  ChnrchV 
banquet,"  on  this  "exalted  manna?"  Yfliat  an- 
swer can  we  give  more  full  and  complete  than  this 
— "  We  esteemed  him  not  ?"  Our  little  regard  of 
Jesns  kept  us  from  liis  throne :  for  true  affection 
would  have  availed  itself  of  the  ready  access  Tv^hich^ 
prayer  affords  to  the  secret  chamber  of  Jests,  and 
would  thereby  have  taken  her  fill  of  loves.  Can 
we  now  forsake  the  throne  ?  ISTo  ;  our  happiest 
moments  are  spent  up>on  our  knees,  for  there  Jesus 
manifests  himself  to  us.  We  prize  the  society  of 
this  best  of  friends,  for  his  divine  countenance 
"  giveth  such  an  inward  decking  to  the  house  where 
he  lodgeth,  that  proudest  palaces  have  cause  to 
envy  the  gilding."  We  delight  to  frequent  the 
shades  of  secrecy,  for  there  our  Saviour  allows  us 
to  unbosom  our  joys  and  sorrows,  and  roll  them 
alike  on  him. 

O  Lamb  of  God  !  our  prayerlessness  bids  us  con- 
fess that  once  we  considered  thee  to  have  neither 
form  nor  comeliness. 

Furthermore,  our  avoidance  of  the  peojyle  of  God 
confirms  the  humiliating  truth.  We  who  now  stand 
in  the  "  sacramental  host  of  God's  elect,"  glorying 
in  the  brotherhood  of  the  righteous,  Avere  once 
"  strangers  and  foreigners."  The  language  of  Ca- 
naan was  to  our  ear  either  an  unmeanins;  babble  at 
which  we  scoffed,  a  harsh  jargon  which  we  sought 
not  to  instate,  or  an  "  unknown  tongue"  above  our 


THE   DESPISED   FRIEND.  19 

powers  of  interpretation.  The  heirs  of  life  were 
either  despised  as  "  earthen  pitchers,"  the  work  of 
the  hands  of  the  pottdr,  or  we  removed  from  their 
society,  conscious  that  we  were  not  fit  compeers  for 
the  "precious  sons  of  Zion,  comparable  to  fine 
gold."  Many  have  been  the  weary  looks  which  we 
cast  upon  the  time-piece  when,  in  pious  company, 
the  theme  has  been  too  spiritual  for  our  grovelling 
understanding ;  full  often  have  we  preferred 
the  friendship  of  the  laughing  worldling  to  that  of 
the  more  serious  believer. 

'Need  we  ask  the  source  of  this  dislike  ?  The  bit- 
ter stream  is  not  like  the  river  of  Egypt,  silent  as 
to  its  source:  it  proclaims  its  own  origin  plainly 
enough ;  and  the  ear  of  self  partiality  cannot  be 
deaf  to  the  truthful  sound — "  Ye  loved  not  the  ser- 
vants, because  ye  esteemed  not  their  master  ;  ye 
jlwelt  not  amid  the  brethren,  for  ye  had  no  friend- 
ship towards  the  firstborn  of  the  family." 

One  of  the  plainest  evidences  of  alienation  from 
God  is  a  want  of  attachment  to  his  people.  In  a 
greater  or  less  degree  this  once  existed  in  each  of  us. 
True,- there  were  some  Christians  whose  presence 
always  afforded  us  pleasure  ;  but  we  must  be  aware 
that  om-  delight  in  their  company  was  occasioned 
more  by  the  affability  of  their  manners,  or  the  win- 
ning style  of  their  address,  than  by  the  fact  of  their 
intrinsic  excellence.  We  valued  the  gem  for  its 
setting,  but  a  common  pebble  in  the  same  ring 


20  THE  SAINT  AND  HIS   6AVI0TJB. 

would  have  equally  engrossed  our  attention.  The 
saints,  as  saints,  were  not  our  chosen  friends,  nor 
could  we  saj,  ''  I  am  a  companion  of  all  those  that 
fear  thee."  All -hail,  thou  leader  of  the  host!  we 
boldly  own  that  from  the  moment  when  we  first 
loved  thy  person,  all  thy  followers  have  been  dear 
to  us,  there's  not  a  lamb  amongst  thy  flock  we 
would  disdain  to  feed ;  thy  servants  may  be  mocked 
by  contempt,  persecuted  by  cruelty,  branded  with 
infamy,  oppressed  by  power,  humbled  by  poverty, 
and  forgotten  by  fame  ;  but  to  us  they  are  the  "  ex- 
cellent of  the  earth,"  and  we  are  not  ashamed  to 
call  them  brethren. 

Such  sentiments  are  the  finest  products  of  esteem 
for  the  Hedeemer,  and  their  former  absence  is  con- 
clusive evidence  that  we  then  "  esteemed  him  not." 
"We  have  no  further  need  of  aid  in  this  self-con- 
demnation. 

Broken  Sablaths  start  like  warrior  clansmen  from 
the  wild  heath  of  time ;  they  point  to  the  deserted 
sanctuary,  for  which  they  would  execute  a  dread 
revenge  did  not  the  shield  of  Jesus  cover  us  ;  for,  lo  ! 
their  bows  are  stringed  with  neglected  ordinances, 
and  their  arrows  are  despised  messages  of  mercy. 

But  wherefore  these  accusers  ?  Conscience,  the 
ranger  of  the  soul,  hath  seen  enough.  He  will  af- 
firm that  he  hath  beheld  the  ear  closed  to  the  woo- 
ing voice  of  the  friend  of  sinners :  that  full  often 
the  eyes  have  been  averted  from  the  cross  when 


THE   DESPISED   FKIEND.  21 

Jesus  himself  was  visibly  set  forth.  Let  him  give 
in  his  own  evidence.  Hear  him.  He  saith  : — I 
have  witnessed  the  barring  of  the  heart  to  the  en- 
trance of  Jesus ;  I  have  seen  the  whole  man  in 
arms  to  repair  the  breaches  which  a  powerful  min- 
ister had  caused ;  I  have  been  present  when  the 
struggle  against  the  Saviour  has  been  as  fierce  as 
the  ravening  wolf.  In  vain  the  sprinkled  blood  to 
rivet  the  attention — heedless  of  Calvary  or  Gethse- 
mane,  this  mad  soul  refused  to  see  the  beauties  of 
the  Prince  of  Life,  but  rather  spurned  him  from  the 
heart  which  was  his  lawful  throne.  The  sum  and 
substance  of  my  declaration  is,  "  We  esteemed  him 
not." 

Away,  then,  O  pride  !  we  know  that  "  without 
the  sovereign  influence  of  God's  extraordinary  and 
immediate  grace,  men  do  very  rarely  put  off  all  thy 
trappings,  till  they  who  are  about  them  put  on  their 
winding-sheet;""^  but  if  aught  can  lay  thee  in  the 
grave,  the  retrospect  of  our  treatment  of  our  loving 
Lord  might  avail  to  do  it.  Pause  then,  O  Chris- 
tian, and  thus  soliloquize  :  "  I  once  scorned  him 
who  loved  me  with  an  everlasting  love,  I  once  es- 
teemed him  as  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground.  I  served 
him  not,  I  cared  not  for  his  blood,  his  cross,  or  his 
crown  ;  and  yet  I  am  now  become  one  of  his  own 
children.  '  Yerily,  to  grace  I  will  for  ever  sing  : — 

♦  Clarendon. 


22  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

'  Great  God  of  wonders  !  all  thy  ways 
Are  matchless,  godlike,  and  divine, 

But  the  fair  glories  of  thy  face 

More  godlike  and  unrivalled  shine : 

Who  is  a  pardoning  God  like  thee  ? 

Or  vfho  hath  grace  so  rich  and  free  ?'  " 

n.  TVe  now  enter  upon  an  examination  of  the 
latent  causes  of  this  sin.  When  the  disease  is 
removed,  it  may  be  useful  to  learn  its  origin,  that 
we  may  serve  others  and  benefit  ourselves. 

Our  coldness  towards  the  Saviour  resulted  pri- 
marily from  the  naUiral  evil  of  out  hearts.  We 
can  plainly  discern  why  the  dissolute  and  repro- 
bate entertain  but  little  affection  for  purity  and 
excellence  :  the  self-same  reason  may  be  given  for 
our  disregard  of  the  incarnation  of  virtue  in  the 
person  of  our  Lord  Jesus.  Sin  is  a  madness,  dis- 
qualifying the  mind  for  sober  judgment;  a  blind- 
ness, rendering  the  soul  incapable  of  appreciating 
moral  beauty ;  it  is  in  fact  such  a  perversion  of  all 
the  faculties,  that  under  i^s  terrible  influence  men 
will  "  call  evil  good,  and  good  evil ;  they  will  j)ut 
darkness  for  light,  and  light  for  darkness;  bitter 
for  sweet,  and  sweet  for  bitter.""^  To  us  in  our 
fallen  condition  fiends  often  appear  more  fair  than 
angels,  we  mistake  the  gates  of  hell  for  the  portals 
of  bliss,  and  prefer  the  garnished  lies  of  Satan  to  the 

*  Isaiah  v.  20. 


THE   DESPISED   FRIEND.  23 

eternal  verities  of  the  Most  High.  Eevenge,  Inst, 
ambition,  pride,  and  self-will,  are  too  often  exalted 
as  the  gods  of  man's,  idolatry ;  while  holiness, 
peace,  contentment,  and  hnmilitj  are  viewed  as 
unworthy  of  a  serious  thonght.  O  sin,  what  hast 
tliou  done !  or  rather,  what  hast  thou  undone ! 
Thou  hast  not  been  content  to  rob  humanity  of  its 
crown,  to  drive  it  fi-om  its  happy  kingdom,  to  mar 
its  royal  garments,  and  despoil  its  treasure ;  but 
thou  hast  done  more  than  this  !  It  sufficed  not  to 
degrade  and  dishonour;  thou  hast  even  wounded 
thy  victim  ;  thou  hast  blinded  his  eyes,  stopped 
his  ears,  intoxicated  his  judgment,  and  gagged  his 
conscience ;  yea,  the  poison  of  thy  venomed  shaft 
hath  poured  death  into  the  fountain.  Thy  malice 
hath  pierced  the  heart  of  manhood,  and  thereby 
hast  thou  1111  ed  his  veins  with  corruption  and  his 
bones  with  dej^ravity.  Yea,  O  monster,  thou  hast 
become  a  murderer,  for  thou  hast  made  us  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins ! 

This  last  word  opens  up  the  entire  mystery;  for 
if  we  are  spiritually  dead,  it  is  of  course  impossible 
for  us  to  know  and  reverence  the  Prince  of  glory. 
Can  the  dead  be  moved  to  ecstasies,  or  corpses 
excited  to  rapture  ?  Exercise  your  skill  on  yonder 
lifeless  body.  It  has  not  yet  become  a  carnival  for 
worms.  The  frame  is  still  complete,  though  life- 
less. Bring  hither  lute  and  harp ;  let  melodies 
most  sweet,  and  harmonies  unequalled,  attempt  to 


24  THE    SAUSTT   AND   HIS    BAVIOUE. 

move  the  man  to  pleasure :  he  smileth  not  at  the 
swelling  strain,  he  weepeth  not  at  the  plaintive 
cadence ;  yea,  conld  the  orchestra  of  the  redeemed 
pour  forth  their  music,  he  would  be  deaf  to  the 
celestial  charm. 

Will  you  assault  the  city  by  another  gate? 
Place  then  before  those  eyes  the  choicest  iiowei*s 
that  e'er  were  grown  since  Eden's  plants  were 
blasted.  Doth  he  regard  the  loveliness  of  the  rose 
or  the  whiteness  of  the  lily  ?  ^ay,  the  man  know- 
eth  no  more  of  their  sweetness  than  doth  the  water 
of  !N"ilus  of  the  lotus  which  it  bearetli  on  its  bosom. 
Come,  ye  gales  of  Araby,  and  winds  laden  with 
the  spicy  odours  of  Ceylon ;  let  the  incense  of 
fragrant  gums,  of  frankincense  and  myrrh,  smoke 
before  him  ;  yet,  motionless  as  a  statue,  the  nostril 
is  not  distended,  nor  doth  pleasure  sit  upon  the  lip. 
Aye,  and  ye  may  bring  to  your  aid  more  powerful 
means.  Ye  may  combine  the  crash  of  the  ava- 
lanche, the  roar  of  the  cataract,  the  fury  of  the 
ocean,  the  howling  of  the  winds,  the  rumbling  of 
the  earthquake,  and  the  roll  of  the  thunder :  but 
these  sounds,  united  into  one  godlike  shout,  could 
not  arouse  the  slumberer  from  his  fatal  couch.  He 
is  dead,  doth  in  one  word  solve  the  mystery.  So 
also  we,  though  quickened  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
were  once  dead  in  sin,  and  hence  "  we  esteemed 
him  not."  Here  is  the  root  of  all  our  misdeeds, 
the  source  of  all  our  iniquity. 


THE    DESPISED   FRIEND.  25 

When  we  are  asked  to  point  out  tlio  parent  of 
Hglit,  we  turn  our  finger  to  the  sun  above ;  and  if 
the  question  be  proposed,  Whence  cometh  evil? 
we  point  within  us  to  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief 
which  departeth  from  the  living  God. 

The  secondary  causes  of  the  folly  which  we  once 
committed  lie  very  near  the  surface,  and  may  repay 
a  moment's  observation.     Self-esteem  had  much  to 
do  with  our  ill-treatment  of  "  the  sinner's  Friend." 
Conceit  of  our  own  deserts  made  us  indifierent  to 
the  claims  of  one  who  had  procured  for  us  a  per- 
fect   righteousness.       "  The    whole    need    not    a 
physician :"  and  we  felt  insulted  by  the  language 
of  a  gospel  which   spoke   to   us   as   undeserving 
beings.     The  Cross  can  have  little  power  where 
pride  conceals  the  necessity  of  a  pardon  ;  a  sacri- 
fice is  little  A^alued  when  we  are  unconscious  of  our 
need  thereof.     In  our  own  opinion  we  were  once 
most  noble  creatures ;  the  Pharisee's  oration  would 
have  sincerely  enough  emanated  from  us.     A  few 
little  trifles  there  might  be  which  were  not  quite 
correct,  bnt  in   the   main   we   thought   ourselves 
"  rich  and  increased  in  goods ;"  and  even  when 
under  tlie  powerful ^ice  of  law  we  were  made  to 
discern  our  poverty,  we  yet  hoped  by  future  obe- 
dience to  reverse  the  sentence,  and  wore  utterly 
unwilling  to  accept  a  salvation  which  required  a 
rennnciation  of  all  merit  and  simple  trust  on  the 
crucified  Eedeemer.     I^ever  until  all  the  work  of 

2 


26  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOIIK. 

our  hands  had  been  nnravelled,  and  our  fingers 
themselves  had  become  powerless,  would  we  cease 
from  our  own  labour,  and  leaving  the  spider's- web 
of  man's  doings,  array  ourselves  in  the  garment  of 
of  free  justification.  No  man  will  ever  think 
much  of  Christ  till  he  thinks  little  of  himself.  The 
lower  our  own  views  .of  ourselves  become,  the 
higher  will  our  thoughts  of  Jesus  be  raised ;  and 
only  when  self-annihilation  is  complete  will  the 
Son  of  God  be  our  "  all  in  all." 

Yain  glory  and  self-esteem  are  fruitful  parents  of 
evil.  Chrysostom  calls  self-love  one  of  the  devil's 
three  great  nets  ;  and  Bernard  styles  it  ''  an  arrow 
which  pierceth  the  soul  through,  and  slays  it ;  a 
sly,  insensible  enemy,  not  perceived."  Under  the 
sad  influence  of  this  power  we  commonly  love  him 
best  who  does  us  the  most  harm ;  for  the  flatterer 
who  feeds  our  vanity  with  pleasing  cries  of 
"  Peace,  peace,"  is  far  more  regarded  than  that  sin- 
cere friend,  the  blessed  Jesus,  who  earnestly  warns 
us  of  our  ill  estate.  But  when  self-confidence  is 
removed — when  the  soul  is  stripped  by  conviction 
— when  the  light  of  the  spirit  reveals  the  loath- 
some state  of  the  heart — when  the  power  o±  the 
creature  fails,  how  precious  is  Jesus !  As  the 
drowning  mariner  clutches  the  floating  spar — as 
the  dying  man  looks  to  some  great  physician — as 
the  criminal  values  his  pardon,  so  do  we  then 
esteem  the  deliverer  of  oiir  souls  as  the  Prince  of 


THE   DESPISED   FRIEND.  27 

the  kings  of  the  eartli.  Self-loathing  begets  an 
ardent  passion  for  the  gracions  "lover  of  our 
sonls,"  but  self  complacency  hides  his  glories  from 
us. 

Love  of  the  world  has  also  its  share  in  using  this 
dear  friend  so  ill.  "When  he  knocked  at  the  door 
we  refused  him  admittance,  because  another  had 
already  entered.  We  had  each  chosen  another 
husband  to  whom  we  basely  gave  away  our  hearts. 
"  Give  me  wealth,"  said  one.  Jesus  replied, 
"  Here  am  I ;  I  am  better  than  the  riches  of  Egypt, 
and  my  reproach  is  more  to  be  desired  than  hiddent 
treasures."  The  answer  was,  "Thou  art  not  the 
wealth  that  I  seek  for ;  I  pant  not  for  an  airy 
wealth  like  thine,  O  Jesus !  I  do  not  care  for  a 
wealth  above  in  the  future — I  desire  a  wealth  here 
in  the  present ;  I  want  a  treasure  that  I  can  grasp 
now  *j  I  want  gold  that  will  buy  me  a  house,  a 
farm,  and  estate ;  I  long  for  the  sparkling  jewel 
that  will  adorn  my  fingers  ;  I  ask  thee  not  for  that 
which  is  hereafter ;  I  will  seek  for  that  when  years 
have  passed  away." 

Another  of  us  cried,  "  I  ask  for  health,  for  I  am 
sick."  The  best  physician  ap23ears,  and  gently 
promises,  "  I  will  heal  thy  soul,  take  away  thy 
leprosy,  and  make  thee  whole."  "  Nay,  nay,"  we 
answered,  "  I  ask  not  for  that,  O  Jesus  !  I  ask  to 
have  a  lody  that  is  strong,  that  I  may  run  like 
Asahel,  or  wrestle  like  an  Hercules ;  I  long  to  be 


28  THE   SAINT  AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

freed  from  pain  of  boclj^  but  I  do  not  ask  for  health, 
of  soul,  that  is  not  what  I  require."  A  third 
implored  for  happiness.  "Listen  to  me,"  said 
Jesus,  "  my  Vv^ays  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all 
my  paths  are  peace."  "  E"ot  the  joy  for  which  I 
sigh,"  we  hastily  replied  ;  "  I  ask  the  cup  filled  to 
the  brim,  that  I  may  drink  it  merrily ;  I  love  the 
jovial  evening,  and  the  joyous  day,  I  want  the 
dance,  the  revelry,  and  other  fair  delights  of  this 
world  ;  give  your  hereafter  to  those  who  are  enthu- 
siasts— let  them  live  on  hope  ;  I  prefer  this  world 
and  the  present." 

Thus  did  we  each  in  a  different  fashion  set  our 
afi'ection  on  things  below,  and  despise  the  things 
above.  Surely  he  was  no  ill  painter  who  thus 
sketched  us  to  the  life  with  his  graj)hic  pencil: 
"  The  interpreter  took  them  apart  again,  and  had 
them  into  a  room  where  was  a  man  that  could  look 
no-ways  but  downwards,  with  a  muck-rake  in  his 
hand ;  there  stood  also  one  over  his  head  with  a 
celestial  crown  in  his  hand,  and  proffered  him  that 
crown  for  his  muck-rake  ;  but  the  man  did  neither 
look  up  nor  regard,  but  raked  to  himself  the  straws 
and  dust  of  the  floor." 

While  we  love  the  world,  "  the  love  of  the  father 
is  not  in  us  ;"^'  nor  the  love  of  Jesus  the  son. 
Two  masters  we  cannot  serve.      The  world  and 

*  1  John  ii.  15. 


THE   DESPISED   FEIEND.  29 

Jesus  never  will  agree.  We  must  be  able  to  sing 
the  first  portion  of  Madame  Giiion's  stanza  before 
we  can  truly  join  in  its  concluding  words : 

"  Adieu  !  ye  vain  delights  of  earth, 
Insipid  sports,  and  childish  mirth, 

I  taste  no  sweets  in  you ; 
Unknown  delights  are  in  the  Cross, 
All  joy  beside  to  me  is  dross; 
And  Jesus  thought  so  too." 

It  would  be  a  great  omission  did  we  not  observe 
that  our  ignorance  of  Christ  was  a  main  cause  of 
our  want  of  love  towards  him.  "We  now  see  that 
to  know  Christ  is  to  love  him.  It  is  impossible  to 
have  a  .vision  of  his  face,  to  behold  his  person,  or 
understand  his  offices,  without  feeling  our  souls 
warmed  towards  him.  Such  is  the  beauty  of  our 
blessed  Lord,  that  all  men,  save  the  spiritually 
blind,  pay  willing  homage  to  him.  It  needs  no 
eloquence  to  set  forth  Christ  to  those  who  see  him 
by  faith,  for  in  truth  he  is  his  own  orator  ;  his  glory 
speaks,  his  condescension  speaks,  his  life  speaks, 
and,  above  all,  his  death  speaks ;  and  what  these 
utter  without  sound,  the  heart  receiveth  willingly. 

Jesus  is  "  curtained  from  the  sight  of  the  gross 
world  "  by  the  wilful  unbelief  of  mankind,  or  else 
the  sight  of  him  would  have  begotten  veneration 
for  him.  Men  know  not  the  gold  which  lies  in  the 
mine  of  Christ  Jesus,  or  surely  they  would  dig  in 


30  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

it  night  and  clay.  Tliey  have  not  yet  discovered 
the  pearl  of  great  price,  or  they  would  have  sold 
their  all  to  buy  the  field  wherein  it  lies.  The 
person  of  Christ  strikes  eloquence  dumb  when  it 
would  describe  him ;  it  palsies  the  artist's  arm 
when  with  fair  colours  he  would  portray  him ;  it 
would  o'ermatch  the  sculptor  to  carve  his  image 
even  were  it  possible  to  chisel  it  in  a  massive  block 
of  diamond.  There  is  nought  in  nature  comparable 
to  him.  Before  his  radiance  the  brilliance  of  the 
sun  is  dimmed ;  yea,  nothing  can  compete  with 
him,  and  heaven  itself  blushes  at  its  own  plainness 
of  countenance  when  his  "  altogether  lovely  "  per- 
son is  beheld.  Ah,  ye  who  i)ass  him  by  without 
regard,  it  is  well  said  by  Eutherford,  "  Oh  if  you 
knew  him,  and  saw  his  beauty,  your  love,  your 
heart,  your  desires,  would  close  with  him  and 
cleave  to  him.  Love,  by  nature,  when  it  seeth, 
cannot  but  cast  out  its  spirit  and  strength  upon 
amiable  objects,  and  good  things,  and  things  love- 
worthy; and  what  fairer  thing  is  there  than  Christ  ?" 
The  Jewish  world  crucified  him  because  they  knew 
not  their  king ;  and  we  rejected  him  because  we 
had  not  seen  his  adaptation  to  our  wants,  and 
believed  not  the  love  he  bore  to  our  souls.  We 
can  all  thus  soliloquize  with  Augustine  : — "  There 
was  a  great  dark  cloud  of  vanity  before  mine  eyes, 
so  that  I  could  not  see  the  sun  of  justice  and  the 
light  of  truth ;  I,  being  the  son  of  darkness,  was 


THE   DESriSED   FKIEND.  31 

involved  in  darkness;  I  loved  my  darkness,  be- 
cause I  knew  not  tky  light ;  I  was  blind,  and  loved 
my  blindness,  and  did  walk  from  darkness  to  dark- 
ness; bnt  Lord,  thou  art  my  God,  who  hast  led 
me  from  darkness  and  the  shadow  of  death ;  hast 
called  me  into  this  glorious  light,  and  behold  I 
see."  Those  days  of  soul-eclipse  are  gone,  but 
never  can  we  too  much  bewail  them.  Sad  were 
those  hours  when  the  morning  star  shone  not,  when 
the  Cross  had  no  charms,  and  the  glorious  Kedeemer 
no  esteem.  Could  tears  obliterate  them  from  the 
annals  of  the  past,  our  eyes  should  empty  their 
cisterns  ere  our  cheeks  should  be  dry — could 
prayers  recall  them,  we  would  besiege  the  throne 
with  incessant  supplications.  They  are  gone,  alas ! 
beyond  the  arm  of  even  omnipotence  to  restore 
them ;  but  we  rejoice  to  see  their  iniquity  blotted 
out  and  their  sin  entirely  covered. 

The  river  of  sinful  neglect  of  Jesus  has  doubtless 
other  tributary  sources  which  we  cannot  now  tarry 
to  notice.  Contemplation  need  not  here  wander 
in  a  maze,  she  hath  a  path  laid  straight  before  her; 
unchain  her  feet  and  bid  her  conduct  you  over  the 
field  of  memory,  that  with  her  you  may  count  the 
other  rills  which  fed  this  noxious  stream. 

III.  We  come  now  to  the  practical  part  of  our 
meditation,  and  consider  the  emotions  which  ought 
to  be  excited  by  it. 


32  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS   SAYIOUK. 

First,  then,  we  think  dee^p  penitential  sorrow  will 
well  become  ns.  As  tears  are  the  fit  moisture  for 
the  grave,  as  ashes  are  a  fit  crown  for  the  head  of 
mourning,  so  are  penitential  feelings  the  proper 
mementoes  of  conduct  now  forsaken  and  abhorred. 
"We  cannot  understand  the  Christianity  of  those 
men  who  can  narrate  their  past  history  with  a  kind 
of  self-congratulation.  We  have  met  with  some 
who  will  recount  their  former  crimes  with  as  much 
gusto  as  the  old  soldier  tells  his  feats  in  arms. 
Such  men  will  even  blacken  themselves  to  render 
their  case  more  worthy  of  regard,  and  glory  in 
their  past  sins  as  if  they  were  ornaments  to  their 
new  life.  To  such  we  say,  Not  thus  thought  Paul ; 
when  speaking  to  the  Eomans,  he  said,  "  whereof 
ye  are  now  ashamed."  There  are  times  when  it  is 
proper,  beneficial,  and  praiseworthy  for  a  con- 
verted man  to  tell  the  sad  tale  of  his  former  life ; 
free  grace  is  thus  glorified,  and  -divine  power  ex- 
tolled, and  such  a  story  of  exj^erience  may  serve 
to  bring  about  faith  in  others  who  think  themselves 
too  vile  ;  but  then  let  it  be  done  in  a  right  spirit, 
with  expressions  of  unfeigned  regret  and  repen- 
tance. We  object  not  to  the  narration  of  the  deeds 
of  our  unregenerate  condition,  but  to  the  mode  in 
which  it  is  too  often  done.  Let  sin  have  its  monu- 
ment, but  let  it  be  a  heap  of  stones  cast  by  the 
bauds  of  execration— not  a  mausoleum  erected  by 
the  hands  of  affection.    Give  it  the  burial  of  Ab- 


THE  DESPISED   FRIElia).  33 

salom — let  it  not  sleep   in   tlie  sepulchre  of  tlie 
kings. 

Can  we,  beloved,  enter  the  dark  vault  of  our 
former  ignorance  without  a  feeling  of  oppressive 
gloom?  Can  we  traverse  the  ruins  of  our  mis- 
spent years  without  sighs  of  regret  ?  Can  we  be- 
hold the  havoc  of  our  guilt,  and  smile  at  the 
destruction?  l^ay.  It  is  ours  to  bewail  what  we 
cannot  efface,  and  abhor  what  we  cannot  retract. 

O  fellow-heir  of  the  kingdom,  let  us  go  together 
to  the  throne  of  Jesus,  that  our  tears  may  bathe 
his  feet ;  that,  like  Mary,  we  may  make  our  grief 
a  worshipper  of  his  person.  Let  us  seek  some 
alabaster-box  of  very  precious  ointment  wherewith 
to  anoint  him,  or  at  any  rate  let  our  eyes  supply 
a  tribute  of  true  gratitude.  We  approach  his 
sacred  person,  and  on  his  feet  we  see  the  impress 
of  his  love  deep-cut  by  the  piercing  nails.  Come 
now,  my  heart !  bewail  that  wound,  for  thou  didst 
make  it ;  the  soldier  was  but  thy  servant  who  did 
thy  bidding,  but  the  cruel  act  was  thine.  K'ote 
well  his  hands  which  firmly  grasp  thee ;  they  too 
have  their  scars;  and  weep  at  the  remembrance 
that  these  were  made  for  thee.  For  thee  he  bore 
the  ignominy  of  the  cross,  the  pain  of  crucifixion. 
Turn  not  thine  eyes  away  until  the  hole  of  the  side 
has  been  well  pondered.  See  there  that  frightful 
gash,  deep  mine  which  reacheth  to  his  heart.  And 
this,  my  soul,  was  done  for  thee  I   dost  thou  not 

2* 


34  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

love  tlie  sufferer  ?     Yea,  thou  dost,  with  a  love  as 
deep  and  bottomless  as  the  ocean ;  bnt  forget  not 
that  once  thon  didst  despise  him.     Many  a  time 
hast  thou  slighted  this  gracious  friend;  thy  hus- 
band was  once  hated  by  thee;  thy  beloved  has 
often  received   contumely   and  scorn  from   thee. 
Not  long  ago  thou  didst  mock,  despise,  and  insult 
him.     Hard  words  has  thou  spoken  of  him,  and 
ill  deeds  hast   thou  done   to   him.     His  wooings 
thou  didst  disregard,  the  tender  offerings  of  love 
thou  didst  trample  under  foot,  and  the  deep  anguish 
which  he  endured  for  thee  was  in  thine  ears  an 
idle  tale.     "What !  are  the  fountains  dry  ?     When 
will  thy  sorrow  find  better  cause  for  coining  itself 
in  tears  ?     Canst  thou  afford  a  silly  story  of  a  love- 
sick maid  a  tear  or  two,  and  shall  not  this — thyself 
and  Jesus — move  thy  soul  ?     He  loved,  and  thou 
didst  hate;  he  died,  yet  thou  didst  scoff  his  agonies; 
he  saved  thee,  and  yet  thou  didst  refuse  to  be  his 
child.     O  base  ingratitude!     Clouds  might  be  fit 
mourners  to  weep  thee  away  in  showers ;  but  yet 
we  are  oft  hard  as  the  granite  rock,  and  cold  as 
the  mountain  which  storeth  up  its  snow,  which  it 
might  well  afford  to  lavish  forth  in  rivers.     We 
should  long  to  feel  the  sweet  pleasure  of  repent- 
ance, for  indeed  it  is  no  common  delight.     Howe 
has   excellently  described  the  joy  of  penitential 
grief  in  his  "  Delight  in  God :" — 

"  There  is  pleasure  mingled  with  such  tears,  and 


THE   DESPISED   FKIEND.  35 

witli  those  mournings  which  are  not  without  hope, 
and  which  flow  naturally  and  without  force  from 
a  living  principle  within,  as  waters  from  their  still 
freshly  springing  fountain.  When  the  soul  finds 
itself  unbound  and  set  at  liberty,  when  it  can  freely 
pour  out  itself  to  God,  dissolve  kindly  and  melt 
before  him,  it  doth  it  with  regret  only  at  what  it 
liath  done  and  been,  not  at  what  it  is  now  doing, 
except  that  it  can  do  it  no  more ;  affecting  even 
to  be  infinite  herein,  while  it  yet  sees  it  must  be 
confined  within  some  bounds.  It  loves  to  lie  in 
the  dust  and  abase  itself;  and  is  pleased  with  the 
humiliation,  contrition,  and  brokenness  of  heart 
which  repentance  towards  God  includes  in  it.  So 
that  as  God  is  delighted  with  this  sacrifice,  so  it  is 
wdth  the  offering  of  it  up  to  him.  Many  men 
apprehend  a  certain  sweetness  in  revenge;  such 
a  one  finds  it  only  in  this  just  revenge  upon  him- 
self. How  unexpressible  a  pleasure  accompanies 
its  devoting  itself  to  God,  when  bemoaning  itself, 
and  returning  with  weeping  and  supplication,  it 
says,  'ITow,  lo!  I  come  to  thee,  thou  art  the  Lord 
my  God,  I  have  brought  thee  back  thine  own,  what 
I  had  sacrilegiously  alienated  and  stolen  away,  the 
heart  which  was  gone  astray,  that  hath  been  so 
long  a  vagabond  and  fugitive  from  tliy  blessed 
presence,  service,  and  communication.  Take  now 
the  soul  which  thou  hast  made ;  possess  thy  own 
right ;  enter  upon  it ;  stamp  it  with  the  entire  im- 


36  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

pression  of  thine  own  seal,  and  mark  it  for  thine. 
Other  lords  shall  no  more  have  dominion.  What 
have  I  to  do  any  more  with  the  idols  wherewith  I 
was  wont  to  provoke  thee  to  jealousy  ?  I  will  now 
make  mention  of  thy  name,  and  of  thine  only.  I 
bind  myself  to  thee  in  everlasting  bonds,  in  a  cove- 
nant never  to  be  forgotten.'  " 

Let  not  a  libation  of  tears  be  the  only  offering 
at  the  shrine  of  Jesus  ;  let  us  also  rejoice  with  joy 
unsjpecikcMe.  If  we  have  need  to  lament  our  sin, 
how  much  more  to  rejoice  at  our  pardon  !  If  our 
previous  state  moves  us  to  tears,  shall  not  our  new 
condition  cause  our  hearts  to  leap  for  joy  ?  Yes, 
we  must,  we  will  praise  the  Lord  for  his  sovereign, 
distinguishing  grace.  We  owe  him  an  eternal 
song  for  this  change  in  our  position  ;  he  has  made 
us  to  differ,  and  this  from  mere  unmerited  mercy, 
since  we,  like  others,  "  esteemed  him  not."  He 
certainly  did  not  elect  us  to  the  high  dignity  of 
union  with  himself  because  of  any  love  we  had 
toward  him,  for  we  confess  the  very  reverse.  It  is 
said  of  the  writer's  sainted  predecessor.  Dr.  Rip- 
pon,  that  when  asked  why  God  chose  his  people, 
he  replied,  "  Because  he  chose  them  ;"  and  when 
the  question  was  repeated,  he  answered  yet  again, 
"  Because  he  did  choose  them,  and  if  you  ask  me 
a  hundred  times  I  can  give  you  no  other  reason." 
Yerily  it  is  "  even  so  Father,  because  so  it  seemed 
good  in  thy  sight."  (Let  our  gratitude  for  divine 


THE   DESPISED   FEIEND.  37 

grace  leap  forth  in  praise  ^  let  our  whole  man  be 
vocal  to  his  honour  who  has  elected  us  in  sover- 
eignty, redeemed  us  by  blood,  and  called  us  by 
grace. 

Should  we  not  also  be  moved  to  the  deepest  pros- 
tration  of  sjnrit  at  the  remembrance  of  our  guilt  ? 
Ought  not  the  subject  of  our  present  contempla- 
tion to  be  a  stab  in  the  very  heart  of  j)ride  ?  Come 
hither.  Christian,  and  though  now  arrayed  in  the 
garments  of  salvation,  behold  here  thy  former 
nakedness.  Boast  not  of  thy  riches,  remelnber 
how  sorry  a  beggar  once  thou  wast.  Glory  not  in 
thy  virtues,  they  are  exotics  in  thy  heart ;  remem- 
ber the  deadly  plants — the  native  growth  of  that 
evil  soil.  Stoop  thyself  to  the  earth,  and  though 
thou  canst  not  veil  thyself  with  wings  as  angels  do, 
let  re23entance  and  self-abhorrence  serve  thee  instead 
thereof.  Think  not  that  humility  is  weakness  ;  it 
shall  supply  the  marrow  of  strength  to  thy  bones. 
Stoop,  and  conquer ;  bow  thyself,  and  become 
invincible.  The  proud  man  has  no  power  over  his 
fellows  ;  the  beasts  of  the  forest  tremble  not  at  the 
loftiness  of  the  giraffe,  but  the  crouching  lion  is 
the  monarch  of  the  plain.  He  who  esteems  him- 
self but  little,  stands  on  a  vantage-ground  with  his 
fellow-men.  Like  an  eastern  house,  the  heart  has 
a  lowly  entrance,  and  every  guest  must  bow  his 
head  ere  he  can  cross  the  threshold.  He  who  has 
felt  his  own  ruin  will  not  imagine  the  case  of  any 


88  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOIJE. 

to  be  hopeless ;  nor  will  lie  tliink  tliem  too  fallen 
to  be  worthy  his  regard.  Though  he  may  be  a 
priest  or  Levite  in  the  temple  of  his  God,  he  will  . 
not  feel  degraded  if  he  stain  his  hands  in  binding 
up  the  wounds  of  the  victims  of  evil.  Like  the 
friend  of  publicans  and  sinners,  he  will  seek  out 
the  sick  who  need  a  physician.  Christianity  has 
founded  a  colony  for  the  outcasts  of  society.  The 
founder  of  Rome  welcomed  to  his  new-built  city 
the  dregs  of  all  the  nations  of  the  earth ;  so  let 
every  Christian  believe  that  Zion's  inhabitants  are 
to  be  gathered  from  haunts  of  sin  and  chambers  of 
vice.  How  prone  are  w^e  to  forestal  the  damnation 
of  men !  How  often  do  we  write  in  our  book  of 
doom  the  names  of  many  whom  we  afterwards  dis- 
cover to  have  been  "  ordained  unto  eternal  life  !" 
The  astronomer  will  believe  that  the  most  erratic 
comet  will  yet  accomj^lish  its  journey,  and  revisit 
our  sphere ;  but  we  give  up  those  for  lost,  who 
have  not  wandered  one-half  the  distance  from  the 
centre  of  light  and  life.  "We  find  an  excuse  for 
inaction  in  the  fancied  hopelessness  of  sinners ; 
while  fastidious  delicacy,  by  the  fear  of  pollution, 
seeks  to  mask  at  once  our  indolence  and  pride.  If 
we  had  right  views  of  ourselves^  we  should  judge 
none  too  base  to  be  reclaimed,  and  should  count  it 
no  dishonour  to  bear  upon  the  shoulders  of  our 
sympathy,  the  most  wandering  of  the  flock.  "We 
have  amongst  us  too  much  of  the  spirit  of  "  Stand 


.     THE   DESPISED   FEIEND.  39 

by,  for  I  am  holier  than  thou."  Those  whom  Jesus 
would  have  grasped  by  the  hand,  we  will  scarcely 
touch  with  a  pair  of  tongs ;  such  is  the  pride  of 
many  professors,  that  they  need  but  the  name  to 
be  recognised  at  once  as  the  true  successors  of  the 
ancient  Pharisees.  If  we  were  more  like  Christ, 
we  should  be  more  ready  to  hope  for  the  hopeless, 
to  value  the  worthless,  and  to  love  the  depraved. 
The  following  anecdote,  which  the  writer  received 
from  the  lips  of  an  esteemed  minister  of  the  Church 
of  England,  may  perhaps,  as  a  fact,  plead  more  forci- 
bly than  words.  A  clergyman  of  a  parish  in  Ire- 
land, in  the  course  of  his  visitations,  had  called 
upon  every  one  of  his  flock  with  but  one  exception. 
This  was  a  woman  of  most  abandoned  character, 
and  he  feared  that  by  entering  her  house  he  might 
give  occasion  of  offence  to  gainsayers,  and  bring 
dishonour  upon  his  profession.  One  Sabbath,  he 
observed  her  among  the  frequenters  of  his  church, 
and  for  weeks  after  he  noticed  her  attention  to  the 
word  of  life.  He  thought,  too,  that  amid  the  sound 
of  the  responses  he  could  detect  one  sweet  and  ear- 
nest voice,  solemnly  confessing  sin,  and  imploring 
mercy.  The  bowels  of  his  pity  yearned  over  this 
fallen  daughter  of  Eve ;  he  longed  to  ask  her  if 
her  heart  were  indeed  broken  on  account  of  sin ; 
and  he  intensely  desired  to  speak  with  her  con- 
cerning the  abounding  grace  which,  he  hoped,  had 
plucked  her  from  the  burning.     Still,  the  same 


4:0  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

delicacy  of  feeling  forbade  liim  to  enter  the  house ; 
time  after  time  he  passed  her  door  with  longing 
look,  anxious  for  her  salvation,  but  jealous  of  his 
own  honour.  This  lasted  for  a  time,  but  at  length 
it  ended.  One  day,  she  called  him  to  her,  and 
with  overflowing  tears  which  well  betrayed  her 
bursting  heart,  she  said,  "  0  sir  !  if  yoitr  Master 
hadheenin  this  milage  half  as  long  as  you  have, 
he  would  have  called  to  see  me  long  ago  /  for  surely 
I  am  the  chief  of  sinners^  and  therefore  have  most 
need  of  his  mercy, "^"^  "We  may  conceive  the  melting 
of  the  pastor's  heart,  when  he  saw  his  conduct  thus 
gently  condemned  by  a  com23arison  with  his  loving 
Master.  From  that  time  forth  he  resolved  to 
neglect  none,  but  to  gather  even  the  "  outcasts  of 
Israel."  Should  we,  by  our  meditation,  be  con- 
strained to  do  likewise,  we  shall  have  derived  no 
little  benefit,  and  possibly  some  soul  may  have 
reason  to  bless  God  that  our  thoughts  were  directed 
into  such  a  channel.  May  the  gracious  Spirit,  who 
has  promised  to  "  lead  us  into  all  truth  "  by  his 
holy  influences,  sanctify  to  our  profit  this  visit  to 
the  house  of  our  nativity,  exciting  in  us  all  those 
emotions  which  are  congenial  to  the  subject,  and 
leading  us  to  actions  in  harmony  with  the  grateful 
retrospect. 


TO  THE  UIsrCOiq^YERTED  KEADEE. 


My  Feiend, — Althougli  this  book  was  written 
chiefly  for  the  Lord's  family,  yet  it  may  please  the 
gracious  Spirit  to  bless  it  to  thine  own  soul.  With 
this  desire  let  me  seriously  entreat  thee  well  to  con- 
sider the  condition  thou  art  in.  Thon  art  one  who 
esteems  not  Jesus.  This  is  a  state,  sad  in  itself  by 
reason  of  thy  loss  of  present  delight  in  him ;  but 
how  much  more  terrible  if  thou  dost  remember  the 
eternal  consequences  of  refusing  Christ.  He  is 
thine  only  real  hojDe,  and  yet  thou  rejectest  him. 
Thy  salvation  can  only  come  through  him,  and  yet 
thou  dost  wilfully  remove  thyself  from  him.  A 
few  more  years  will  bring  thee  to  the  threshold  of 
another  world.  It  will  go  ill  with  thee  if  thou  dost 
still  "neglect  this  great  salvation."  Death  will 
soon  loosen  thy  girdle  and  break  thy  strength. 
What  wilt  thou  do  in  the  last  hour  of  extremity 
without  a  Saviour?  Judgment  will  follow  on  the 
heels  of  dissolution  ;  and  when  the  insulted  Saviour 

41 


42  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

sits  upon  tlie  judgmeBt-seat,  how  wilt  thou  face 
him?  Wilt  thou  be  able  to  bear  the  fury  of  his 
incensed  maj  esty  ?  As  oil,  the  softest  of  substances, 
doth  burn  the  most  fiercely,  so  doth  love  when  it 
is  angered.  I  bid  thee  bethink  thyself,  how  thou 
w^ilt  endui-e  his  ire.  The  eyes  which  once  flowed 
with  tears  shall  flash  lightnings  on  thee.  The 
hands  which  were  nailed  to  the  cross  of  redemption 
shall  seize  the  thunderbolts  of  vengeance,  and  the 
voice  which  once  in  melting  tones  said,  "  Come  ye 
weary,"  shall  pronounce  in  thundering  words  the 
sentence,  "  Depart,  ye  cursed !" 

Art  thou  so  besotted  as  to  venture  on  so  hazar- 
dous a  course  as  continued  rebellion  ?  Dost  thou 
wish  to  lie  down  in  torment,  and  make  thy  bed  in 
hell? 

O  my  brother-immortal !  tarry  here  and  ponder 
thy  woeful  estate ;  and  may  the  Spirit  now  manifest 
to  thee  thy  lost  and  helpless  condition,  that  so, 
stripped  of  self,  thou  may  est  seek  my  Master's 
righteousness.  He  says  : — "  Horn  them  that  love 
me^  and  they  that  seek  me  early  shall  find  meP 


II. 

FAITHFUL  WOUNDS. 

"  Faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend." — Pnoy.  xxvii.  6. 


The  death  in  sin,  which  we  so  much  lamented  in 
the  last  chapter,  is  now  happily  a  thing  of  the  past 
with  US.  Divine  grace  has  quickened  us  ;  heavenly 
influence  has  preserved  us  ;  and  faithful  promises 
have  secured  our  spiritual  immortality.  It  is  now 
our  delightful  duty  to  adore  the  love  which,  even 
when  we  were  dead  in  sins,  was  still  planning  deeds 
of  kindness  towards  us ;  and  which  in  its  own 
appointed  time  enlisted  Omnipotence  in  our  be- 
half, whereby  we  received  life  from  the  dead. 

In  order  to  raise  our  hearts  heavenward,  and 
tune  our  lips  to  the  psalmody  of  praise,  let  us,  by 
the  Spirit's  gracious  assistance,  review  the  way 
whereby  the  Lord  led  us  to  himself. 

Like  ourselves,  many  of  our  readers  will  admit 
that  the  first  they  ever  knew  of  Jesus  was  in  the 
character  of  a  faithful  friend  wounding  us  for  sin. 

43 


4:4:  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

Though  at  that  time  we  knew  not  that  love  was 
mixed  with  every  blow,  yet  now  we  perceive  it  to 
have  been  the  kind  plan  of  a  gracious  Saviour  to 
bring  us  to  himself.  The  Koman  Emperoi'  con- 
ferred freedom  on  a  slave  by  smiting  him  on  the 
ear  :  and  Jesus  sets  as  at  liberty  by  a  blow  upon 
our  heart. 

I.  We  shall  dwell  first  upon  the  fact  that  all 
saved  persons  have  heen  wounded.  ^^Teither  in  the 
Church  militant  nor  the  host  triumphant  is  there 
one  who  received  a  new  heart,  and  was  reclaimed 
from  sin,  without  a  wound  from  Jesus.  The  pain 
may  have  been  but  slight,  and  the  Jiealing  may 
have  been  speedy ;  but  in  each  case  there  has  been 
a  real  bruise,  which  required  a  heavenly  physician 
to  heal. 

1.  With  some,  this  wounding  commenced  in 
early  life;  for  as  soon  as  infancy  gave  place  to 
childhood,  the  rod  was  exercised  upon  certain  of 
us.  We  can  remember  early  convictions  of  sin, 
and  apprehensions  of  the  wrath  of  God  on  its  ac- 
count. 'An  awakened  conscience  in  our  most  tender 
years  drove  us  to  the  throne  of  mercy.  Though  we 
knew  not  the  hand  which  chastened  our  spirit,  yet 
did  we  "  bear  the  yoke  in  our  youth."  How  many 
were  "  the  tender  buds  of  hope,"  which  we  then 
put  forth,  alas  !  too  soon  to  be  withered  by  youth- 
ful lusts ;  how  often  were  we  "  scared  with  visions  " 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  45 

and  terrified  with  dreams,  wliile  the  reproof  of  a 
parent,  the  death  of  a  j)lay fellow,  or  a  solemn  ser- 
mon made  onr  hearts  melt  within  ns !  Truly,  our 
goodness  was  but  "  as  the  morning  cloud  and  the 
early  dew ;"  but  who  can  tell  how  much  each  of 
these  separate  woundings  contributed  toward  that 
killing  by  the  law,  which  proved  to  be  the  effec- 
tual work  of  God  ?  In  each  of  these  arousings  we 
discover  a  gracious  purpose ;  we  trace  every  one 
of  these  awakenings  to  His  hand  who  watched  over 
our  path,  determined  to  deliver  us  from  our  sins. 
The  small  end  of  that  wedge  which  has  since  been 
driven  home,  was  inserted  during  these  youthful 
hours  of  inward  strife  ;  the  ground  of  our  heart 
was  then  enduring  a  ploughing  preparatory  to  the 
seed. 

Let  none  despise  the  strivings  of  the  Spirit  in 
he  hearts  of  the  young;  let  not  boyish  anxieties 
and  juvenile  repentances  be  lightly  regarded.  He 
incurs  a  fearful  amount  of  guilt  who  in  the  least 
promotes  the  aim  of  the  Evil  One  by  trampling 
upon  a  tender  conscience  in  a  child.  ISTo  one 
knows  the  age  of  the  youngest  Tjhild  in  hell ;  and 
therefore  none  can  guess  at  what  age*  children  be- 
come capable  of  conversion.  We  at  least  can  bear 
our  testimony  to  the  fact  that  grace  operates  on 
some  minds  at  a  period  almost  too  early  for  recol- 
lection. Nor  let  it  be  imagined  that  the  feelings 
of  the  young  are  slight  and  superficial — they  are 


46  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

frequently  of  the  deepest  cliaracter.  The  early 
woimdings  of  the  Saviour  are  made  upon  hearts 
not  yet  rendered  callous  by  worldliness  and  sensu- 
ality. The  Christian  whose  lot  it  was  to  be  smitten 
in  his  childhood,  will  well  remember  the  deep 
searchings  of  heart  and  the  keen  convictions  of 
soul  which  he  endured. 

O  beloved,  how  much  have  we  to  bless  our  Jesus 
for,  and  how  much  for  which  to  reprove  ourselves ! 
Did  we  not  stifle  our  conscience,  and  silence  the 
voice  of  reproof  ?  Were  we  not  deaf  to  the  warn- 
ing voice  of  our  glorious  Jesus  ?  "When  he  smote 
us  sorely,  we  returned  not  to  kiss  his  rod,  but  were 
as  refractory  as  the  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the 
yoke.  Our  most  solemn  vows  were  only  made  to 
be  broken ;  our  earnest  prayers  ceased  when  the 
outward  pressure  was  removed ;  and  our  partial 
reformations  passed  away  like  dreams  of  the  night. 
Blessed  be  His  name,  he  at  last  gave  us  the  effec- 
tual blow  of  grace ;  but  we  must  for  ever  stand  in 
amazement  at  the  patience  which  endured  our  ob- 
stinacy, and  persevered  in  its  design  of  love. 

2.  Many  of  the  Lord's  beloved  ones  have  felt  the 
wounds  to  be  exceedingly  gainful.  There  are 
degrees  in  the  bitterness  of  sorrow  for  sin ;  all  have 
not  the  same  horrible  apprehensions  of  destruc- 
tion ;  but  some  there  be  who  have  drank  the  very 
wormwood  and  gall  of  repentance.  Usually,  such 
persons  have   been  great  sinners  previously,   or 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  47 

become  great  saints  in  after  life.  They  love  mucli 
because  they  feel  that  much  has  been  forgiven; 
their  fearful  bondage  increases  their  gratitude  for 
glorious  liberty ;  and  the  wretchedness  of  their 
natural  poverty  enhances  their  estimation  of  the 
riches  of  Jesus.  The  painful  process  is  thus  a 
gainful  one  ;  but  when  it  is  endured  it  is  indeed  an 
exceeding  fiery  furnace — an  oven  that  burnetii 
with  vehement  heat.  He  who  hath  had  his  feet 
fast  in  the  stocks  of  conviction  will  never  forget  it 
till  his  dying  day.  "Well  do  some  of  us  call  to 
mind  the  season  when  our  true  Friend  smote  our 
heart,  with  what  we  then  thought  the  hand  of  a 
cruel  one.  Our  mirth  was  turned  into  mourning, 
our  songs  to  lamentations,  our  laughter  into  sigh- 
ing, and  our  joys  to  misery.  Black  thoughts 
haunted  our  benighted  soul — dreary  images  of  woe 
sat  upon  the  throne  of  our  imagination — sounds 
akin  to  the  wailings  of  hell  were  frequent  in  our  ears, 
unitedly  making  our  entire  man  so  full  of  agony 
that  it  could  be  compared  to  nothing  but  the  portal 
of  hell.  During  this  period,  our  prayers  were 
truly  earnest  when  we  could  pray ;  but  at  times  a 
sense  of  tremendous  guilt  bound  our  lips,  and 
choked  our  utterance.  ITow  and  then  a  faint 
gleam  of  hope  lit  up  the  scene  for  a  moment,  only 
to  increase  the  gloom  upon  its  departure.  The 
nearer  we  approached  to  our  Lord,  the  more 
sternly  (we  thought)  he  repelled  us ;  the  more  ear- 


48  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOTTE. 

nest  our  attempts  at  amendment,  the  more  heavy 
the  lash  fell  upon  our  shoulders.  The  law  grasped 
us  with  iron  hand,  and  smote  us  with  the  scourge 
of  vengeance ;  conscience  washed  the  quivering 
flesh  with  brine;  and  despondency  furnished  us 
with  a  bed  of  thorns,  upon  which  our  poor- man- 
gled frame  found  a  hard  couch.  By  night  we 
dreamed  of  torment,  by  day  we  almost  felt  its  pre- 
lude. In  vain  did  we  ask  Moses  to  propitiate  an 
angry  God ;  in  vain  did  we  attempt  by  vows  to 
move  his  pity ;  "  the  Breaker  ""^  broke  our  hearts 
with  his  heavy  hammer,  and  seemed  intent  to  make 
our  agonies  intolerable.  We  dared  not  touch  the 
hem  of  his  garment,  lest  "  Depart  from  me !" 
should  be  the  only  word  he  would  afford  us.  A 
fearful  looking-for  of  judgment  and  of  fiery  indig- 
nation wrought  in  us  all  manner  of  fears,  suspi- 
cions, tremblings,  despondings,  and  despairings. 

Old  Burton  was  no  ill  limner  when*  he  thus 
painted  the  soul  under  the  pressure  of  a  burden  of 
guilt : — "  Fear  takes  away  their  content,  and  dries 
the  blood,  wasteth  the  marrow,  alters  their  coun- 
tenance, '  even  in  their  greatest  delights — singing, 
dancing,  feasting — they  are  still  (saith  Lemnius) 
tortured  in  their  souls.'  It  consumes  them  to 
nought.  'I  am  like  a  pelican  in  the  wilderness 
(saith  David  of  himself,  temporarily  afflicted) ;  an 

*  Mic.  ii.  13. 


FAITHFUL    WOUNDS.  49 

owl,  because  of-  tliiue  indignation.''^  'Mj  heart 
trembletli  within  me,  and  the  terrors  of  death  have 
come  upon  me ;  fear  and  trembling  are  come 
upon  me,  &c.,  at  death's  door.'  'Their  soul 
abhorreth  all  manner  of  meat.'f  Their  slee]3  is  (if 
it  be  any)  unquiet,  subject  to  fearful  dreams  and 
terrors.  Peter,  in  his  bonds,  slept  secure,  for  he 
knew"  God  protected  him.  Tullj  makes  it  an  argu- 
ment of  Eoscius  Amerinus'  innocency  (that  he 
killed  not  his  father)  because  he  so  securely  slept. 
Those  martyrs  in  tlie  primitive  Church  were  most 
cheerful  and  merry  in  the  midst  of  their  persecu- 
tions ;  but  it  is  far  otherwise  with  these  men: 
tossed  in  a  sea,  and  that  continually,  without  rest 
or  intermission,  they  can  think  of  nought  that  is 
pleasant ;  '  their  conscience  will  not  let  them  be  in 
quiet ;'  in  perpetual  fear  and  anxiety,  if  they  be 
not  yet  apprehended,  they  are  in  doubt  still  they 
shall  be  ready  to  betray  themselves.  As  Cain  did, 
he  thinks  every  man  will  kill  him ;  '  and  roar  for 
the  grief  of  heart,'J  as  David  did,  as  Job  did.§ 
'  Wherefore  is  light  given  to  him  that  is  in  misery, 
and  life  to  them  that  have  a  heavy  heart  ?  Which 
long  for  death ;  and  if  it  come  not,  search  it  more 
than  treasures,  and  rejoice  when  they  can  find  the 
grave.'     They  are  generally  weary  of  their  lives  : 

*  Ps.  cii.  G,  10 ;  Iv.  4.  f  Ps.  cvii.  18. 

X  Ps.  xxxviii.  8.  §  Job  XX.  3,  21,  22,  &c. 


50  THE   SAINT    AND    HI3    SAVIOUK. 

a  trembling  heart  tliey  have,  a  sorrowful  mind,  and 
little  or  no  rest.  Terror  uljique  tremor^  timor 
undique  et  undique  terror :  '  tears,  terrors,  •  and 
affrights,  in  all  places,  at  all  times  and  seasons.' 
Cibum  et  jpotum  pertinaciter  aversantur  onultij 
noduTYh  in  seirjyo  qiiceritantes,  et  culpam  im.aginan- 
tes  ubi  nidla  est^  as  Wierns  writes,*  '  they  refuse 
many  of  them  meat  and  drink,  cannot  rest,  aggra- 
vating still,  and  supposing  grievous  offences  where 
there  are  none.'  God's  heavy  WTath  is  kindled  in 
their  souls,  and,  notwithstanding  their  continual 
prayers  and  supplications  to  Christ  Jesus,  they 
have  no  release  or  ease  at  all,  but  a  most  intoler- 
able torment,  and  insufferable  anguish  of  con- 
science ;  and  that  makes  them,  through  impatience, 
to  murmur  against  God  many  times,  to  think  hardly 
of  him,  and  even,  in  some  cases,  seek  to  offer  vio- 
lence to  themselves.  In  the  morning  they  wish  for 
evening,  and  for  morning  in  the  evening ;  for  the 
sight  of  their  eyes  which  they  see,  and  fear  of  heart."t 
Hart  knew  the  deej)  w^oundiiigs  of  this  faithful 
Friend  ;  witness  the  following  lines  : — • 

"  The  Lord,  from  wliom  I  long  backslid, 

First  clicck'd  me  with  some  gentle  stings  ; 
Turu'd  on  me,  look'd,  and  softly  chid, 
And  bade  me  hope  for  greater  things. 

"  Soon  to  his  bar  he  made  me  come, 
Arraign'd,  convicted,  cast,  I  stood, 

*  De  Lamiis,  lib.  iii.  c.  7.  f  Deut.  xxvii.  65,  66. 


FAITHFUL    WOUNDS.  51 

Expecting  from  his  mouth  the  doom 
Of  those  who  trample  on  his  blood. 

"  Pangs  of  remorse  my  conscience  tore, 
Hell  open'd  hideous  to  my  view  ; 
And  what  I  only  heard  before, 
I  found,  by  sad  experience,  true. 

"  Oh  !  what  a  dismal  state  was  this, 

"What  horrors  shook  my  feeble  frame  ! 
But,  brethren,  surely  you  can  guess, 
For  you,  perhaps,  have  felt  the  same." 

Doubtless,  some  of  our  readers  will  cry  out  against 
sucli  a  description  as  being  too  barsli ;  oui\oiily 
answer  is,  we  have  felt  these  things  in  a  measure, 
and  we  testify  what  we  do  know.  We  do  not,  for  one 
moment,  teach  that  all  or  that  many  are  thus  led  in  a 
path  strewn  with  horrors,  and  shrouded  in  gloom  ; 
but  we  hope  to  be  acknowledged,  by  those  who 
have  experienced  the  same,  to  have  uttered  no 
strange  thing,  but  the  simple  tale,  unexaggerated 
and  imadorned.  We  need  no  better  evidences  to 
convince  all  Christian  men  of  our  truthfulness  than 
those  with  which  our  own  pastorate  has  furnished  us. 
Many  have  we  seen  in  this  condition  ;  and  we  hope 
that  not  a  few  have  been,  by  our  instrumentality, 
led  into  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  makes  men 
free. 

Such  terrible  things  are  not  necessary  to  true  re- 


52  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAYIOUK. 

pentance,  but  they  do  at  times  accompany  it.  Let 
tlie  man  who  is  now  flomulering  in  the  slongh  of 
Despond  take  heart,  for  the  slongh  lieth  right  in 
the  middle  of  the  way,  and  the  best  pilgrims  have 
fallen  into  it.  Your  case,  O  soul  under  spiritual 
distress,  is  by  no  means  singular ;  and  if  it  were  so, 
it  would  not  be  necessarily  desperate,  for  Omnipo- 
tence knoweth  nothing  of  impossibilities, (and  grace 
stayeth  not  for  our  demerits P)  A  dark  cloud  is  no 
sign  that  the  sun  has  lost  his  light ;  and  dark  black 
convictions  are  no  arguments  that  God  has  laid 
aside  his  mercy.  Destruction  and  wrath  may  thun- 
der, but  mercy  can  speak  louder  than  both.  One 
word  from  our  Lord  can  still  the  waves  and  winds. 
Get  thee  beneath  the  tree  of  life,  and  not  a  drop  of 
the  shower  of  wratli  will  fall  on  thee.  Fear  not  to  go, 
for  the  cherubims  which  you  see  are  not  guards  to 
prevent  your  approach,  but  ministers  who  will 
welcome  your  coming.  Oh  !  sit  not  down  in  sullen 
despair,  harden  not  thine  heart,  for  it  is  a  friend 
that  wounds  thee.  He  has  softened  thee  in  the 
furnace  ;  he  is  now  welding  thee  with  his  hammer. 
Let  him  slay  thee,  but  do  thou  still  trust  in  him. 
If  he  had  meant  to  destroy  thee,  he  would  not  have 
showed  thee  such  things  as  these  :  love  is  in  his 
heart  when  chiding  is  on  his  lips ;  yea,  his  very  words 
of  reproof  are  so  many  "tokens  for  good,"  A  fa- 
ther w^ill  not  lift  his  hand  against  another  man's 
child,  but  he  exercises  discipline  upon  his  own ; 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  53 

eyen  so  tlie  Lord  jour  God  chastens  liis  own,  but 
reseiwetli  for  tlie  children  of  wrath  retribution  in 
another  state  of  being.  Bethink  thee,  also,  that  it 
is  no  small  mercy  to  feel  thj  sin  ;  this  proves  that 
there  is  no  mortification  in  thy  frame,  but  life  is 
there.  To  feel  is  an  evidence  of  life  ;  and  sj^iritual 
sorrow  is  a  clear  proof  of  life  in  the  soul.  More- 
over, there  are  thousands  who  would  give  worlds 
to  be  in  the  same  condition  as  thou  art ;  they  are 
grieving  because  they  do  not  have  those  very  feel- 
ings which  are  in  thy  case  thy  burden  and  plague. 
Multitudes  envy  thee  thy  groans,  thy  tears,  and 
meltings ;  yea,  some  advanced  saints  look  at  thee 
with  admiration,  and  wish  that  their  hearts  were  as 
tender  as  thine.  Oh  !  take  courage ;  the  rough 
usage  of  to-day  is  an  earnest  of  loving  dealings  by- 
and  bye.  It  is  in  this  manner  the  sheep  is  brought 
into  the  fold  by  tlie  barking  of  the  dog  ;  and  in  this 
fashion  the  ship  is  compelled  by  the  storm  to  make 
for  the  nearest  haven.  Fly  to  Jesus,  and  believe 
his  grace. 

3.  A  portion  of  the  redeemed  have  had  this 
season  of  wounding  protracted  for  a  long  time.  It 
was  not  one  heavy  fall  of  the  rod,  but  stroke  after 
stroke,  repeated  for  months,  and  even  years,  in 
continual  succession.  John  Bunyan  was  for  many 
years  an  anxious  and  desponding  seeker  of  mercy ; 
and  thousands  more  have  trodden  the  valley  of 
darkness   for   as  long   a  time.     Winters   are  not 


64:  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

usually  long  in  our  favoured  clime,  but  some  years 
have  seen  the  earth  covered  with  snow  and  fettered 
in  ice  for  many  a  dreary  month ;  so  also  many 
souls  are  soon  cheered  by  the  light  of  God's  coun- 
tenance, but  a  few  find,  to  their  own  sorrow,  that 
at  times  the  promise  tarries.  When  the  sun  sets, 
we  usually  see  him  in  the  morning;  but  Paul, 
when  in  a  tempest  at  sea,  saw  neither  sun,  moon, 
nor  stars,  for  three  days :  many  a  tried  soul  hath 
been  longer  than  this  in  finding  light.  All  ships 
do  not  make  speedy  voyages :  the  peculiar  build 
of  the  vessel,  the  winds,  the  waves,  and  the  mis- 
takes of  the  captain,  all  afiect  the  time  of  the  jour- 
ney. Some  seeds  send  forth  their  germs  in  a  few 
days  ;  others  abide  long  in  darkness,  hidden  under 
the  clods.  The  Lord  can,  when  it  is  his  good 
pleasure,  send  conviction  and  comfort  as  rapidly  in 
succession  as  the  fiash  of  lightning  and  the  clap  of 
thunder;  but  at  times  he  delays  it  for  purposes 
which,  though  we  know  not  now,  we  shall  know 
hereafter.  Men  shall  not  have  an  Easter  until  they 
have  had  Lent ;  but  God's  Lents  are  not  all  of  the 
same  duration.  Let  none,  then,  foolishly  imagine 
that  they  have  entered  a  long  lane  which  will  have 
no  turning  ;  let  them  consider  how  long  they  were 
in  sin,  and  they  will  have  little  cause  to  complain 
that  they  are  so  long  in  humiliation.  When  they 
remember  their  own  ignorance,  they  will  not  think 
they  are  detained  too  long  in  the  school  of  peni- 


FAITHFUL    WOUNDS.  55 

tence.  'No  man  has  any  riglit  to  mnrmur  because 
lie  is  waiting  a  little  for  the  King  of  mercy  ;  for  if 
he  considereth  w^hat  he  waits  for,  he  will  see  it  to 
be  well  worthy  of  a  thousand  years  waiting.  God 
may  say,  "  To-day  if  ye  will  liear  my  voice ;"  but 
thou,  O  sinner,  hast  no  right  to  demand  that  he 
should  hear  thine  at  all,  mnch  less  to-day.  Great 
men  often  have  petitioners  in  their  halls,  who  wdll 
wait  for  honrs,  and  come  again  and  again  to  obtain 
promotion :  surely,  the  God  of  heaven  should  be 
waited  for  by  them  that  seek  him.  Thrice  happy 
is  he  that  getteth  an  early  interview,  and  donbly 
blest  is  he  who  getteth  one  at  all.  Yet  it  does  at 
■imes  seem  hard  to  stand  at  a  door  which  opens  not 
to  repeated  knocking — "  hope  deferred  maketh  the 
heart  sick:"  and  it  may  be,  some  reader  of  this 
volume  is  driven  to  donbt  the  eventual  result  of 
his  strivings  and  prayers;  he  may  be  crying, 
"My  life  is  spent  with  grief,  and  my  years  with 
sighing." 

"  How  oft  have  tliese  bare  knees  been  bent  to  gain 
The  slender  alms  of  one  poor  smile  in  vain  ? 
How  often  tir'd  with  the  fastidious  light 
Have  my  faint  lips  implored  the  shades  of  night? 
How  often  have  my  nightly  torments  pray'd 
Forling'ring  twiHght,  glutted  with  the  shade? 
Day  worse  than  night,  night  worse  than  day  appears; 
In  fears  I  spend  my  nights,  my  days  in  tears : 
I  moan  unpitied,  groan  without  rehef, 
There  is  no  end  or  measure  of  my  grief. 


56  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUE. 

The  branded  slave,  that  tugs  the  weary  oar, 
Obtains  the  Sabbath  of  a  welcome  shore ; 
His  ransom"d  stripes  are  heal'd ;  his  native  soil. 
Sweetens  the  mem'ry  of  his  foreign  toil : 
But  ah  !  my  sorrows  are  not  half  so  blest; 
My  labours  find  no  point,  my  pains  no  rest : 
I  barter  sighs  for  tears,  and  tears  for  groans, 
Still  vainly  rolling  Sisyphaean  stones." 

Cease  tliy  complaint,  O  mourner,  tlie  angel  is  on 
his  way,  and  faith  shall  quicken  his  flight ;  while 
thou  art  yet  speaking.  He  hears,  yea,  before  thou 
callest  again,  He  may  answer  thee. 

4.  Divine  sovereignty  dis]3lays  itself  in  the  man- 
ner whereby  souls,  are  brought  to  Jesus  ;  for  while 
many,  as  we  have  said,  are  smitten  with  deep 
wounds,  there  are  perhaps  a  larger  number  whose 
smartiugs  are  less  severe^  and  their  suffering  far 
less  acute.  Let  us  never  make  apologies  for  the 
superficial  religion  too  common  in  the  present  day ; 
above  all,  let  us  never  lead  others  to  mistake  fan- 
cies for  realities,  and  evanescent  feelings  for  endur* 
ing  workings  of  grace.  We  fear  too  many  are 
deluded  with  a  false  religion,  which  will  be  utterly 
consumed  when  the  fire  shall .  try  all  things  ;  and 
■we  solemnly  warn  our  readers  to  rest  short  of 
nothing  less  than  a  real  experience  of  grace  within, 
true  repentance,  deep  self-abhorrence,  and  com- 
plete subjection  to  salvation  by  grace.  Yet  we  do 
believe  and  know  that  some  of  the  Lord's  family 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  67 

are,  by  his  marvellous  kindness,  exempted  from  the 
exceeding  rigour  of  the  terrors  of  Sinai,  and  the 
excessive  griefs  engendered  by  the  working  of  the 
Law.  God  openeth  many  hearts  with  gentle  pick- 
loci^,  while  with  others  he  nseth  the  crowbar  of 
terrible  judgments.  The  wind  of  the  Spirit,  which 
bloweth  where  it  listeth,  also  bloweth  hoio  it 
pleaseth  :  it  is  oftentimes  a  gentle  gale,  not  always 
a  hurricane.  When  the  lofty  palm  of  Zeilan  put- 
teth  forth  its  flower,  the  sheath  bursts  with  a  report 
which  shakes  the  forest,  but  thousands  of  other 
flowers  of  equal  value  open  in  the  morning,  and 
the  very  dew-drops  hear  no  sound ;  so  many  souls 
blossom  in  mercy,  and  the  world  hears  neither 
whirlwind  nor  tempest.  Showers  frequently  fall 
upon  this  earth  too  gently  to  be  heard,  though 
truly  at  other  seasons  the  rattling  drops  proclaim 
them ;  grace  also  ''  droj^i^eth,  like  the  gentle  dew 
from  heaven,"  on  souls  whom  Jesus  would  favour, 
and  they  know  nothing  of  heavy  hail  and  drench- 
ing torrents. 

Let  none  doubt  their  calling  because  it  came  not 
with  sound  of  the  trumpet ;  let  them  not  sit  down 
to  measure  their  own  feelings  by  those  of  other 
men,  and  because  they  are  not  precisely  the  same, 
at  once  conclude  that  they  are  no  children  of  the 
kingdom.  ITo  two  leaves  upon  a  tree  are  precisely 
alike — variety  is  the  rule  of  nature ;  the  line  of 
beauty  runs  not  in  one  undeviating  course ;  and  in 

3* 


58  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

grace  the  same  rule  holds  good.  Do  not,  therefore, 
desire  another  man's  repentance,  or  thj  brother's 
apprehensions  of  wrath.  Be  not  wishful  to  try  the 
depth  of  the  cavern  of  misery,  but  rather  rejoice 
that  thou  hast  a  partial  immunity  from  its  glooms. 
Be  concerned  to  flee  for  refuge  to  Jesus ;  but  ask 
not  that  the  avenger  of  blood  may  almost  overtake 
thee.  Be  content  to  enter  the  ark  like  a  sheep  led 
by  its  shepherd;  desire  not  to  come  like  an  unruly 
bullock,  which  must  be  driven  to  the  door  with 
stripes.  Adore  the  power  which  is  not  bound 
down  to  a  unity  of  method,  but  which  can  open 
the  eye  by  the  clay  and  spittle,  or  by  the  simple 
touch  of  the  finger.  Jesus  cried,  with  a  loud  voice, 
''Lazarus,  come  forth!"  but  the  restoration  was  as 
easily  effected  when  he  gently  said,  "  Maid,  arise  !" 
Zaccheus  was  called  from  the  tree  with  a  voice  that 
the  crowd  could  hear;  but  it  was  a  still  voice 
wliich  in  the  garden  said,  "  Mary."  Can  any  man 
say  but  that  equal  benefits  flowed  from  these  varied 
voices  ?  It  is  arrogance  for  any  man  to  maj)  out 
the  path  of  the  Eternal,  or  dictate  to  Jesus  the 
methods  of  his  mercy.  Let  us  be  content  with 
g(  .itle  wounds,  and  let  us  not  seek  heavy  blows  as 
r.  ■; -oof  of  his  faithfulness. 

oi.  ich  more  might  have  been  discoursed  concern- 
hvT  the  means  used  by  Providence  to  break  the 
lu.rd  heart.  Bereavement,  disappointment,  sick- 
ness, poverty,  have  had  their  share  of  uses;  the 


FAITHFUL    WOUNDS.  59 

Word  preaclied,  Scriptures  read  or  reproofs  re- 
ceived, liave  all  been  owned  to  conversion.  It 
would  be  interesting  to  register  the  diverse  ways 
of  Jeliovali's  doings  with  sinners ;  and  it  would  be 
found  a  valuable  occupation  for  a  gathering  of 
Christians  in  an  evening  party,  if  the  question  is 
passed  round  to  each,  and  one  acts  as  recorder  for 
the  rest ;  thus  interesting  information  may  be  ob- 
tained, and  unprofitable  talking  avoided. 

II.  We  now  seek  to  justify  our  assertion  that 
these  wounds  are  inflicted  hy  "  the  friend^''  Christ 
Jesus.  Our  readers  will  observe  that  Jesus'  name 
has  not  often  occurred  in  the  course  of  this  chap- 
ter, but  this  has  had  its  reasons ;  in  order  that  our 
words  might  be  somewhat  in  accordance  w^ith  the 
state  of  the  soul  during  the  operation  of  conviction, 
for  then  it  discerns  not  Jesus,  and  knows  nothing 
of  his  love.  A  faint  idea  of  his  saving  power  may 
arise,  but  it  is  only  the  hush  between  the  succeed- 
ing gusts  of  wind.  There  is  an  atonement,  but  the 
tried  conscience  rejoices  not  therein,  since  the 
blood  has  never  been  applied  ;  HE  is  able  to  save 
unto  the  uttermost,  but  since  the  man  has  not  come 
unto  God  by  him,  he  as  yet  participates  not  in  the 
salvation.  Nevertheless,  an  unseen  Jesus  is  a  true 
Jesus ;  and  when  we  see  him  not,  he  is  none  the 
less  present,  working  all  our  works  in  us.  We 
would  insist  strongly  on  this  point,  because  a  very 


60  THE    SAIKT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUE. 

large  number  of   mourning  sinners,  ascribe   their 
sorrow  to  any  source  but  the  right  one. 

1.  We  know  those  at  present  in  the  prison-house 
of  conviction  who  believe  themselves  to  be  tor- 
mented by  the  devil,  and  are  haunted  by  the 
dreadful  thought  that  he  is  about  to  devour  them, 
since  hell  seems  to  have  begun  in  their  souls.  May 
the  sacred  Comforter  render  ^ur  words  profitable 
to  a  heart  so  exercised.  It  is  not  an  evil  one  who 
convinces  the  soul  of  sin,  although  the  troubled 
spirit  is  prone  to  impute  its  arousiugs  to  the  machi- 
nations of  the  devil.  It  is  never  the  policy  of  the 
Prince  of  darkness  to  disturb  his  subjects;  he  la- 
bours to  make  them  self-satisfied  and  content  with 
their  position ;  spiritual  uneasiness  he  looks  upon 
w^ith  most  crafty  suspicion,  since  he  sees  therein 
the  cause  of  desertion  from  his-  evil  army.  "We  do 
not  assert  that  none  of  the  terrors  which  accom- 
pany conviction  are  the  works  of  the  devil,  for 
we  believe  they  are ;  but  we  maintain  that  the 
inward  disturbance  which  originates  the  commotion 
is  a  work  of  love — a  deed  of  divine  compassion, 
and  comes  from  no  other  fountain  than  eternal  af- 
fection. The  dust  which  surrounds  the  chariot  may 
rise  from  beneath,  but  the  chariot  itself  is  paved 
with  the  love  of  heaven.  JThe  doubts,  the  despair- 
ings,  and  the  hellish  apprehensions  may  be  the 
work  of  Diabolus,  but  the  real  attack  is  headed  by 
Emmanuel,  and  it  is  from  very  fear  that  the  true 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  61 

assault  may  be  successful  that  Satan  attempts  an- 
otlierj  Jesus  sends  an  army  to  drive  ns  to  liimself, 
and  tlien  tlie  Prince  of  the  powers  of*  the  air  dis- 
patches a  host  to  cut  off  our  retreat  to  Calvary.  So 
harassed  is  the  mind  when  thus  besieged,  that  like 
the  warriors  in  old  Troy,  it  mistakes  friends  for 
foes,  not  knowing  how  to  discern  them  in  the  dark- 
ness and  confusion.  Let  ns  labonr  a  moment  to 
point  out  the  helmet  of  Jesus  in  the  battle,  that  his 
blows  may  be  distingnished  from  those  of  a  cruel 
one. 

The  experience  which  we  have  pictured  leads  us 
to  abhor  sin.  Can  Satan  be  the  author  of  this? 
Is  he  become  a  lover  of  purity,  or  can  an  nn clean 
spirit  be  the  father  of  snch  a  godly  feeling  ?  An 
adept  in  sin  himself,  will  he  seek  to  reveal  its  vile- 
ness?  If  indeed  it  delights  him  to  see  a  sonl 
nnhappy  here,  would  he  not  far  rather  allow  a 
present  bliss,  in  the  malicious  prospect  of  a  certain 
future  woe  for  his  victim  ?  We  believe  Satan  to 
be  exceedingly  wise,  but  he  would  be  penny  wise 
and  pound  foolish  if  he  should  inflict  a  temporary 
torment  on  the  sinner  here,  and  so  by  his  over 
haste  lose  his  great  object  in  ruining  the  man  for 
ever.  Devils  may  drive  swine  down  a  steep  place 
into  the  sea  ;  but  they  never  influenced  swine  to 
bemoan  their  condition,  and  beg  to  be  made  sheep. 
Satan  might  carry  Jesus  to  a  pinnacle  of  the 
Temple  to  tempt  him  ;  but  he  never  carried  a  pub- 


62  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

lican  to  the  house  of  prayer  to  smite  on  his  breast 
and  ciy,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner !" 
Is"othing  ^Yhich  leads  to  Jesus  can  be  of  the  Evil 
One;  b j  this  we  may  judge  whether  our  inward 
trouble  be  of  God  or  no.  That  which  draws  us  to 
Jesus  hath  something  of  Jesus  in  it ;  the  waggons 
which  fetch  us  to  our  Joseph  may  have  rumbling 
wheels,  but  they  are  sent  by  Him.  When  om- 
en emy  cannot  hinder  the  voice  of  God  from  beiug 
heard  in  the  heart,  he  mingleth  therewith  such 
horrid  yellings  and  bowlings  that  the  coming  sin- 
ner is  in  doubt  whether  the  voice  come  from 
heaven  or  hell ;  howbeit,  the  question  may  be 
answered  in  this  manner — if  it  be  a  harsh,  reprov- 
ing voice  which  is  heard,  then  Satan  is  angry,  and  is 
but  counterfeiting,  to  prevent  the  word  of  God 
from  having  effect;  but  if  it  be  a  sweet  voice 
seeking  to  draw  the  soul  from  an  earnest  and 
thorough  repentance,  then  it  cometh  wholly  from 
hell.  O  sinner,  let  a  friend  warn  thee  of  the 
syren-song  of  a  smiling  devil — it  will  be  thine 
eternal  shipwreck  if  thou  dost  not  seal  thine  ears, 
and  neglect  his  enchanting  music  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  be  not  afraid  of  the  devil  when  he 
howleth  like  a  Cerberus,  for  thus  doth  he  seek  to 
affright  thee  from  the  gate  of  heaven ;  stay  not  for 
him,  but  be  firmly  persuaded  that  the  inward  goad 
which  urges  thee  forward  is  in  the  hand  of  Jesus, 
who  desires  to  hasten  thee  to  the  house  of  refuge 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  63 

which  he  has  buikled.  Do  not  tliink  that  thy  sharp 
pains  are  given  thee  by  the  old  murderer,  for  they 
are  the  effects  of  the  knife  of  "  the  beloved  physi- 
cian." "T^any  a  man  under  a  surgical  operation 
cries  out  as  if  he  were  about  to  be  killed ;  but  if 
patience  had  its  perfect  work,  he  would  look  to  the 
end  more  than  to  the  means.  It  is  hard  indeed  to 
rejoice  under  the  heavy  hand  of  a  chastising 
Jesus ;  but  it  will  be  somewhat  easier  to  thee  if 
thou  bearest  in  mind  that  Jesus,  and  not  the  devil, 
is  now  smiting  thee  for  thy  sins. 

2.  Yery  common  also  are  the  cases  where  the 
genuineness  of  conviction  is  doubted,  because  it  is 
conceived  to  be  merely  an  awakened  conscience, 
and  not  the  real  lasting  work  of  Jesus  by  his  Holy 
Spirit.  Well  may  this  cause  anxiety,  if  we  reflect 
that  the  mere  awakenings  of  conscience  so  often 
prove  to  be  of  no  avail.  How  many  reformations 
have  been  commenced  by  the  command  of  con- 
science, and  have  soon  crumbled  beneath  tempta- 
tion like  an  edifice  of  sand  at  the  approach  of  the 
sea  !  How  many  prayers  have  been  forced  forth 
like  untimely  figs  by  the  warmth  of  a  little  natural 
feeling  !  but  such  praj^ers  have  been  displaced  by 
the  old  language  of  indifference  or  iniquity.  It  is 
but  just,  therefore,  that  the  anxious  inquirer  should 
very  honestly  examine  his  feelings  whether  they 
be  of  God. 

Conscience  is  that  portion  of  the  soul  upon  which 


64z  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

tlie  Spirit  works  in  convincing  of  sin ;  but  con- 
science cannot  of  itself  produce  sncli  a  real  death  to 
sin  as  must  be  the  experience  of  every  Christian. 
It  may,  when  stirred  np  by  a  powerful  sermon  or  a 
solemn  providence,  alarm  the  whole  town  of  Man- 
soul  ;  but  the  bursting  of  the  gates  and  the  break- 
ino^  of  the  bars  of  iron  must  come  from  another 
hand. 

Natural  conscience  may  le  distinguished  from 
supernatural  grace  ly  its  leing  far  more  easily 
appeased.  A  small  sop  will  suffice  to  stop  the 
mouth  of  a  conscience  which,  with  all  its  boasted 
impartiality,  is  yet  as  truly  depraved  as  any  other 
portion  of  the  man.  TTe  marvel  at  the  Christian 
minister  when  he  speaks  of  conscience  as  "  God's 
vicegerent,''  styling  it  the  judge  who  cannot  be 
bribed,  whereas  the  slightest  observation  would 
suffice  to  convince  any  man  of  the  corruption  of 
the  conscience.  How  many  commit  acts  with 
allowance  which  are  gross  sins,  but  concerning 
which  their  unenlightened  conscience  ntters  no 
threat ;  and  even  when  this  partial  censor  does 
pronounce  sentence  of  condemnation,  how  easily 
will  the  slightest  promise  of  reformation  avert  his 
wrath,  and  induce  him  to  palliate  the  sin  ! 

Conscience,  when  thoroughly  aroused,  will  speak 
with  a  thundering  voice  ;  but  even  his  voice  cannot 
wake  the  dead — spiritual  resurrection  is  the  work 
of  Deity  alone.     We  have  seen  men  swept  with  a 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  65 

very  tornado  of  terrible  thoughts  and  serious  emo- 
tions ;  but  the  hot  wind  has  passed  away  in  an 
hour,  and  has  left  no  blessing  behind  it.  There  is 
no  healing  beneath  the  wings  of  a  merely  natural 
repentance,  and  its  worthlessness  may  be  proved 
by  its  transitory  existence. 

Conscience  will  be  content  with  reformation ; 
true  grace  will  never  rest  till  it  receives  a  know- 
ledge of  regeneration.  Let  us  each  be  anxious  to 
be  possessors  of  nothing  short  of  a  real  inwrought 
sorrow  for  sin,  a  deep  sense  of  natural  depravity,  a 
true  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  actual  possession 
of  his  Spirit ;  whatever  is  short  of  this,  lacks  the 
vital  elements  of  religion.  If  such  is  our  feeling 
oiow — if  we  now  pant  for  Jesus  in  all  his  glorious 
offices  to  be  ours  for  ever,  we  need  not  fear  but 
that  He  has  wounded  us  in  love,  and  is  bringing  us 
to  his  feet.  If  we  now  feel  that  nothing  but  the 
blood  and  righteonsness  of  Christ  Jesus  can  supply 
the  wants  we  deplore,  we  may  rejoice  that  grace 
has  entered  our  heart,  and  will  win  the  victory. 
A  soul  under  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost  will 
be  insatiable  in  its  longings  for  a  Saviour ;  you 
might  as  well  attempt  to  fill  a  ship  with  honour, 
or  a  house  with  water,  as  a  truly  emptied  soul  with 

aught  save  the  Lord  Jesus.  Is  thy  soul  hungering 
with  such  a  hunger  that  husks  will  not   content 

thee  ?      Art    thou    thirsting    until    "  thy  tongue 

cleaveth  to  thy  mouth "  for  the  living  waters  of 


66  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOTJE. 

life  ?  Dost  tlioii  abhor  all  counterfeits,  and  look 
only  for  the  good  gold  of  the  kingdom  ?  Art  thou 
determined  to  have  Christ  or  die  ?  Will  jiothing 
less  than  Jesus  allay  thy  fears  ?  Then  be  of  good 
cheer ;  arise,  JTe  calleth  thee ;  cry  unto  him,  and 
he  will  assuredly  hear. 

Again,  loe  think  an  excellent  test  may  le  found 
in  the  length  of  time  which  these  feelings  have  en- 
dured. The  awakenings  of  an  unrenewed  con- 
science soon  pass  away,  and  are  not  usually  perma- 
nent in  their  character.  Arising  in  a  night,  they 
perish  also  in  a  night.  They  are  acute  pains,  but 
not  chronic ;  they  are  not  a  part  of  the  man,  but 
simply  incidents  in  his  history.  Many  a  man  drops 
the  compliment  of  a  tear  when  justice  is  at  work 
with  him  ;  but  wiping  that  tear  away,  sunshine  fol- 
lows the  shower,  and  all  is  over.  Hast  thou,  my 
reader,  been  a  seeker  of  the  Lord  for  a  little  while  ? 
I  beseech  thee  take  it  not  for  granted  that  thou  art 
under  the  influence  of  the  Spirit,  but  plead  with 
God  that  thine  own  instability  may  not  afresh  be 
manifest  in  again  forgetting  what  manner  of  man 
thou  art.  O  ye  whose  momentary  warmth  is  but 
as  the  crackling  of  blazing  thorns,  this  is  not  the 
fire  from  heaven  ;  for  that  glorious  flame  is  as  eter- 
nal as  its  origin,  being  sustained  by  Omnipotence. 
O  ye  Pliables,  who  turn  back  at  the  first  difficulty, 
crowns  and  kingdoms  in  the  realms  of  the  blessed 
are  not  intended  for  such  as  you !     Unstable  as 


FAITHFUL    WOUNDS.  67 

water,  ye  shall  not  excel !  Yonr  lying  vows  have 
been  so  often*  heard  in  heaven,  that  justice  frowns 
upon  you.  How  have  ye  lied  nnto  God,  when  ye 
have  promised  in  the  hour  of  sickness  to  turn  to 
him  with  full  purpose  of  heart  ?  How  will  your 
violated  promises  be  swift  witnesses  to  condemn 
you,  when  God  shall  fetch  from  the  archives  of  the 
past  the  memorials  of  your  treachery  ! 

What  can  be  more  worthy  of  your  solemn  consi- 
deration than  the  w^ords  of  Solomon — "  He  that  be- 
ing often  reproved  hardeneth  his  neck,  shall  sud- 
denly be  destroyed,  and  that  witJiout  remecly.'''^^ 
It  will  go  hard  with  some  of  you,  my  readers,  who 
have  abounded  with  hypocritical  repentances 
when  the  Lord  shall  bring  you  into  judgment. 
Ye  have  no  excuse  of  ignorance  ;  ye  cannot  cloak 
your  guilt  with  darkness;  "ye  knew, your  duty, 
but  ye  did  it  not."  You  vowed  in  deceit ;  you 
prayed  in  mockery  ;  you  promised  with  falsehood. 
Surely,  your  own  lips  will  say  "Amen!"  to  the  an- 
athema which  shall  call  you  ''cursed;"  and  the 
chambers  of  your  memory  wdll,  from  their  sin- 
stained  walls,  reverberate  the  sentence,  "  Cursed  ! 
cursed !  cursed  !" 

But  has  the  penitent  reader  been  under  the  hand 
of  God  for  some  time  ?  Have  his  impressions  been 
abiding  ?     Do  they  bring  forth  the   fruits  of  real 

*  Prov.  xxix.  1. 


DO  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOPR. 

longing  after  Jesus  ?  Then  let  liim  be  of  good 
cheer.  The  river  which  drieth  not  is  tlie  river  of 
God ;  the  L'ghthouse  which  endiireth  the  winds 
and  waves  is  founded  on  a  rock ;  and  the  plant 
which  is  not  plucked  up  our  heavenly  Father  hath 
planted.  The  stony-ground  hearer  lost  his  verdure 
when  the  sun  had  arisen  with  burning  heat ;  but  if 
out  of  an  honest  and  good  heart  you  have  received 
the  word  which  abideth  for  ever,  you  are  one  of 
those  upon  the  good  ground.  When  the  light  re- 
mains in  one  position  for  a  long  time,  it  is  not  likely 
to  be  an  ignis  fatioits  /  but  that  which  leapeth  con- 
tinually from  place  to  place,  even  the  peasant 
knows  to  be  the  will-o'-the-wisp,  and  nothing  more. 
True  stars  fall  not;  shooting  stars  are  no  stars  at 
all,  but  sundry  gases  which  have  long  enough  held 
together,  and  blaze  at  bursting.  Kivers  which, 
like  Kishon,  only  flow  with  temporary  torrents, 
may  be  useful  to  sweep  away  an  invading  army, 
but  they  cannot  fertilise  the  surrounding  country  : 
so  temporary  conviction  may  bring  destruction 
■upon  a  host  of  sins,  but  it  is  not  the  river  which 
makes  glad  the  city  of  God.  The  works  of  God 
are  abiding  works  ;  he  biiildeth  no  houses  of  sand 
which  fall  at  the  rise  of  the  flood,  or  the  rushing  of 
the  wind.  Ilast  thou,  O  convinced  soul,  been  long 
under  the  hand  of  sorrow  ?  then  take  heart,  this  is 
all  the  more  likely  to  be  the  hand  of  the  Lord.  If 
thou  feelest,  at  all  seasonable  hours,  a  strong  desire 


FAITUFUL   WOUNDS.  69 

to  seek  his  lace,  and  pour  out  thine  heart  before 
him,  theu  doubtless  thou  art  one  of  those  who  shall 
be  called — "  sought  out,"  and  thou  shalt  dwell  in 
''  a  citj  not  forsaken."  The  morning  cloud  goeth 
because  it  is  but  a  cloud  ;  but  the  rain  and  the  snow 
return  not  to  heaven  void,  but  water  the  earth,  and 
make  it  bring  forth  and  bud  :  if  thj  soul  buddeth 
with  desires,  and  bringeth  forth  prayers  and  tears, 
then  have  we  hope  for  thee  that  God  hath  sent  his 
word  from  above  to  dwell  in  thine  heart. 

Best  of  all,  w/ien  we  are  put  out  of  all  heart  with 
our  doings  and  with  ourovjn  capahilities  ;  then  in- 
deed the  Lord  is  there.  So  long  as  we  cling  in  the 
least  degree  to  self,  we  have  ground  to  distrust  the 
reality  of  the  work  within.  The  Spirit  is  a  hum- 
bling spirit,  and  God  sends  him  that  he  may  hum- 
ble us.  Every  wound  given  by  the  Saviour  is  ac- 
companied by  the  voice,  '•  This  is  against  thy  self- 
righteousness."  Without  this  process  of  cutting 
and  wounding,  we  should  imagine  ourselves  to  be 
something,  whereas  we  are  nothing ;  we  should 
think  our  fig-leaves  to  be  as  excellent  as  court 
robes,  and  our  own  filthy  rags  as  white  as  the  spot- 
less robe  of  Jesus.  Hast  thou,  my  friend  been  learn- 
ing the  lesson,  that  "  whatsoever  is  of  nature's  spin- 
nino;  must  be  all  unravelled  before  the  riochteous- 
ness  of  Christ  is  put  on-?""'^     Dost  thou  now  per- 

*  Thomas  Wilcocks. 


70  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    SAYIOUK. 

ceive  that  "  nature  can  afford  no  balsam  fit  for  soul 
cure?"  Art  tliou  despairing  of  all  healing  from 
the  waters  of  Abana  and  Pharpar  ?  And  wilt  thou 
now  gladly  wash  in  Jordan  and  be  clean  ?  If  it  be 
so  with  thee,  then  thou  art  no  stranger  to  the  influ- 
ences of  Jesus'  grace  U23on  thine  heart ;  but  if  not, 
all  thy  repentances,  thy  tears,  thy  sighs,  thy  groans, 
must  go  for  nothing,  being  but  dross  and  dung  in 
the  sight  of  the  rein-trying  Jehovah.  Self  is  the  fly 
which  spoils  the  whole  pot  of  ointment ;  but  Jesus 
is  the  salt  which  makes  the  most  poisonous  river  to 
become  pure.  To  be  weaned  from  our  own  works 
is  the  hardest  weaning  in  the  "world.  To  die  not 
only  to  all  ideas  of  past  merit,, but  to  all  hopes  of 
future  attainments,  is  a  death  which  is  as  hard  as 
that  of  the  old  giant  whom  Greatheart  slew.  And 
yet  this  death  is  absolutely  requisite  before  salva- 
tion, for  unless  we  die  to  all  but  Christ,  we  can 
never  live  with  Christ. 

The  carnal  j)rofessor  talks  very  much  of  faith,  of 
sanctification,  of  perfection ;  but  therein  he  oflers 
sacrifice  to  himself  as  the  great  author  of  his  own 
salvation  ;  like  the  Pharaoh  of  old,  he  writes  u^^on 
the  rocks,  "  I  conquered  these  regions  by  these  my 
shoulders."  But  not  so  he  who  has  really  been 
taught  by  the  God  of  heaven ;  he  bows  his  head, 
and  ascribes  his  deliverance  wholly  to  the  grace  of 
the  covenant  God  of  Israel.  By  this,  then,  can  thy 
state  be  tested — is  self  annihilated,  or  is  it  not  % 


FAITHFUL    WOUNDS.  71 

Art  tbou  looking  U23warcl,  or  art  thou  hoping  that 
thine  own  arm  shall  bring  salvation  ?  Thus  mayest 
thou  best  understand  how  thy  soul  standeth  with 
regard  to  a  work  of  grace.  That  which  strippeth 
the  creature  of  all  comeliness,  which  marreth  the 
beauty  of  pride,  and  staineth  the  glory  of  self-suffi- 
ciency, is  from  Jesus ;  but  that  which  exalteth 
man,  even  though  it  make  thee  moral,  amiable,  and 
outwardly  religious,  is  of  the  devil.  Fear  not  the 
blow  which  smites  thee  to  tlie  ground — the  lower 
thou  liest  the  better ;  but  shun  that  which  pufleth 
up  and  lifteth  thee  to  the  skies.  Remember  the 
Lord  hath  said,  "  And  all  the  trees  of  the  field  shall 
know  that  I  the  Lord  have  brought  down  the  high 
tree,  have  exalted  the  low  tree,  have  dried  up  the 
green  tree,  and  have  made  the  dry  tree  to  flour- 
ish." *  Be  thou  ever  one  of  the  low  trees,  for  then 
Jesus  will  regard  thee.  He  putteth  down  the 
mighty  from  their  seats,  but  he  exalteth  the  humble 
and  meek.  None  are  nearer  mercy's  door  than 
those  who  are  farthest  from  their  own ;  none  are 
more  likely  to  get  a  good  word  from  Jesus  than  they 
who  have  not  one  word  to  say  for  themselves.  He 
that  is  clean  escaped  from  the  hands  of  self,  hath 
not  a  step  between  himself  and  acceptance.  It  is 
a  good  sign  of  a  high  tide  of  grace,  when  the  sands 
of  our  own  righteousness  are  covered.     Take  heart 

*  Ezek.  xvii.  24. 


72  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAYIOUK. 

that  Christ  loveth  thee,  when  thou  hast  no  heart 
for  the  work  of  self-saving.  But  never,  never  hope 
that  a  devout  carriage,  respectable  demeanour, 
and  upright  conversation,  will  justify  thee  before 
God— 

"  For  love  of  grace 
Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul ; 
It  will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place, 
Whiles  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within, 
Infects  unseen." 

Once  more :  ^vhen  our  sorroiqful  feelings  drive  us 
to  a  thorough  renunciation  of  sin^  then  we  may 
liojpe.  How  many  there  are  who  talk  most  rapidly 
of  a  deep  experience,  of  coiTuj)tion,  and  of  indwell- 
ing sin,  who  never  heartily  renounce  their  evil 
w^ays  !  But  how  vain  is  all  their  idle  talk,  while 
their  lives  show  that  they  love  sin,  and  delight  in 
transgression  !  He  that  is  sorry  for  past  sin,  will 
be  doubly  careful  to  avoid  all  j^resent  acts  of  it. 
He  is  a  hypocrite  before  God  who  talketh  of  a 
work  within  when  there  is  no  work  without.  Grace 
wdlL enter  a  sinful  heart,  even  though  it  be  exceed- 
ing vile ;  yet  it  will  never  make  friendship  with 
sin,  but  will  at  once  commence  to  drive  it  out.  He 
has  altogether  mistaken  the  nature  of  divine  grace, 
wdio  conceives  it  possible  that  he  can  be  a  j)artaker 
of  it  and  yet  be  the  slave  of  lust,  or  allow  sin  to 
leign  in  his  mortal  body.    The  promise  runs — "  Let 


FAITIIFCL   WOUNDS.  73 

tlie  wicked  forsalce  his  way,  and  tlie  unriglitcous 
man  his  thoughts,  and  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him  ;  and  to 
onr  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon ;"  but  we 
read  not  of  a  single  word  of  comfort  to  him  who 
goetli  on  in  his  iniquity.  Though  the  high  and 
lofty  One  will  stoop  over  a  wounded  sinner, 
he  will  never  do  so  while  the  weapons  of  rebellion 
are  still  in  his  hands:  "There  is  no  peace,  saith 
my  God,  unto  the  wicked."  Justice  will  never 
raise  the  siege  simply  because  of  our  cries,  or  pro- 
mises, or  vows  :  the  heart  shall  still  be  invested 
with  terrors  as  long  as  the  traitors  are  harboured 
within  its  gates.  The  Spirit  saith,  by  the  mouth 
of  Paul,  "  For  godly  sorrow  worketh  repentance  to 
salvation  not  to  be  repented  of.  For  behold  this 
self-same  thing,  that  ye  sorrowed  after  a  godly 
sort,  what  carefulness  it  wrought  in  you,  yea,  what 
cleai'ing  of  yourselves,  yea,  what  indignation,  yea, 
what  fear,  yea,  what  vehement  desire,  yea,  Avhat 
zeal,  yea,  what  revenge !  In  all  things  ye  have 
approved  yourselves  in  this  matter."  ^  That  is  no 
true  repentance  to  eternal  life,  which  hath  not  such 
blessed  companions  as  these.  Isaiah  saith,  "By 
this,  therefore,  shall  the  iniquity  of  Jacob  be  purg- 
ed ;  and  this  is  all  the  fruit  to  take  away  his  sin  ; 
when  he  maketh  all  the  stones  of  the  altar  as  chalk- 


*  2  Cor.  vii.  10,  11. 
4: 


74  THE   SAINT  AND  HIS   SAVIOUE. 

stones  that  are  beaten  in  snnder,  the  groves  and 
images  shall  not  stand  np."*  No  sooner  does  jDeni- 
tence  enter  the  heart  than  down  goeth  every  idol, 
and  every  idolatrous  altar.  He  whom  the  Lord 
calleth  will,  like  Gideon,f  cast  down  the  altar  of 
Baal,  cut  down  the  grove,  and  burn  the  bullock ; 
like  Phineas,:!:  his  javelin  will  pierce  through  lusts ; 
and,  as  the  sons  of  Levi  §  at  the  bidding  of  Moses, 
he  will  go  through  the  camp,  and  slay  the  nearest 
and  dearest  of  his  bosom  sins — his  hand  shall  not 
spare,  neither  shall  his  eye  pity  :  right  hands  will 
be  cut  off,  and  right  eyes  plucked  out ;  sin  will  be 
drowned  in  floods  of  godly  sorrow,  and  the  soul 
will  desire  to  be  free  from  that  which  it  hateth, 
even  to  detestation.  As  Thomas  Scott  remarks, 
in  his  Treatise  on  Rejpentance^  "  This  is  the  grand 
distinction  betwixt  true  repentance  and  all  false 
appearances.  Though  men  be  abundant  in  shedding 
tears,  and  make  the  most  humiliating  confessions, 
or  most  ample  restitution ;  though  they  openly  re- 
tract their  false  pi'inciples,  and  are  zealous  in  pro- 
moting true  religion ;  though  they  relate  the  most 
plausible  story  of  experiences,  and  profess  to  be 
favoured  with  the  most  glorious  manifestations; 
though  they  have  strong  confidence,  high  affec- 
tions, orthodox  sentiments,  exact  judgment,  and 

*  Isa.  xxvii.  9.  \  Judg.  vi.  28. 

\  Num.  XXV.  n.  '      %  Ex.  xxxiii.  26,  2Y. 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  75 

extensive  knowledge :  yet,  except  tliey  '  do  works 
meet  for  repentance,'  all  the  rest  is  nothing,  they 
are  still  in  their  sins.  For  the  tree  is  known  by  its 
fruit ;  and  '  every  tree  that  bringetli  not  forth  good 
fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire.'  Yea, 
though  Cain's  terror,  Judas's  confession  and  resti- 
tution, Pharaoh's  fair  promises,  Ahab's  humiliation, 
Herod's  reverencing  the  prophet,  hearing  him 
gladly,  and  doing  many  things — the  stony-ground 
hearer's  joy — together  with  the  tongue  of  men  and 
angels,  the  gifts  of  miracles  and  prophecies,  and  the 
knowledge  of  all  mysteries,  were  combined  in  one 
man,  they  would  not  prove  him  a  true  penitent,  so 
long  as  the  love  of  one  lust  remained  immortified 
in  his  heart,  or  the  practice  of  it  was  alloioed  in  his 
life."  Ask  thyself,  then,  this  all-important  ques- 
tion, How  is  my  soul  affected  by  sin  ?  Do  I  hate 
it  ?  do  I  avoid  it  ?  do  I  shun  its  very  shadow  ?  do  I 
sincerely  renounce  it,  even  though  by  infirmity  I  fall 
into  it  ?  Hest  assured  if  thou  canst  not  give  a  satis- 
factory answer  to  these  questions  thou  art  yet  very 
far  from  the  kingdom  ;  but  if,  with  an  honest  heart, 
thou  canst  declare  that  sin  and  thyself  are  at  an 
utter  enmity,  then  "  the  seed  of  the  woman"  is  be- 
gotten in  thine  heart,  and  dwelleth  there  the  hope 
of  glory. 

Believer,  the  hour  is  fresh  in  our  memory  when 
the  divorce  was  signed  between  ourselves  and  our 
lusts.     AYe  can  rejoice  that  we  have  now  dissolved 


76  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

our  league  with  hell.  But,  oh,  how  much  we  owe 
to  sovereign  grace  !  for  we  had  never  left  the  gar- 
lic and  fleshpots  of  Egypt  if  the  Passover  had  not 
been  slain  for  us.  Our  inward  man  rejoiceth 
greatly  at  the  recollection  of  the  hour  which  pro- 
claimed eternal  war  between  "  the  new  creature  in 
Christ  Jesus"  and  the  sin  which  reigneth  unto 
death.  It  was  a  night  to  be  remembered :  we 
crossed  the  Rubicon — j^^^ce  was  broken — old 
friendships  ceased — the  sword  was  unsheathed,  and 
the  scabbard  thrown  away.  We  were  delivered 
from  the  power  of  darkness,  and  brought  into  "  the 
kingdom  of  God's  dear  Son  ;"  and  henceforth  we 
no  longer  serve  sin,  but  the  life  which  we  live  in 
the  flesh  is  a  life  of  dependence  on  the  Son  of  God, 
who  loved  us  and  gave  himself  for  us.  Let  us  test- 
ify that  we  never  knew  v/hat  it  was  to  have  peace 
with  God  until  we  had  ceased  to  parley  with  sin. 
ITot  one  drop  of  true  comfort  did  we  receive  until 
we  had  foresworn  for  ever  the  former  lusts  of  our 
ignorance ;  till  then  our  mouths  were  filled  with 
wormwood  and  gall,  until  we  had  cast  out  our  iniqui- 
ties as  loathsome  and  abominable  ;  but  now,  having 
renounced  the  works  of  darkness,  "  we  have  peace 
with  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom 
also  we  have  received  the  atonement." 

If  thou,  0  reader,  canst  satisfactorily  answer  the 
solemn  inquiries  here  proposed  to  thee,  thy  case  is 
assuredly  in  the  hands  of  Jesus  the  Lord  :  if  thou 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  77 

liast  contimiallj  bewailed  tliy  sin,  hast  renounced 
tliine  own  works,  and  escaped  from  thy  lusts,  then 
thou  art  none  other  than  one  called  of  God  to 
grace  and  glory.  Be  thou  assured  that  natural 
conscience  can  never  rise  to  such  a  height  as  this 
— it  may  skim  the  surface,  but  it  cannot  mount  aloft. 
Mere  nature  never  poured  contempt  on  human 
righteousness,  and  never  severed  man  from  his  sins. 
It  needs  a  mighty  one  to  carry  away  the  gates  oi 
the  Gaza  of  our  self-sufficiency,  or  to  lay  our  Philis- 
tine sins  heaps  upon  heaps.  God  alone  can  send 
the  sun  of  our  own  excellency  back  the  needed  de- 
grees of  humility,  and  he  alone  can  bid  our  sins 
stand  still  for  ever.  It  is  Jesus  who  hath  smitten, 
if  he  hath  with  one  blow  uncrowned  thee,  and  with 
another  disarmed  thee.  He  is  wont  to  perform 
wonders ;  but  such  as  these  are  his  own  peculiar 
miracles.  None  but  He  can  kill  with  one  stone 
two  such  birds  as  our  high-soaring  righteousness 
and  low-winged  lust.  If  Goliath's  head  is  taken 
from  his  shoulders,  and  his  sword  snatched  from  his 
hand,  no  doubt  the  conqueror  is  the  Son  of  David. 
We  give  all  glory  and  honor  to  the  adorable  name 
of  Jesus,  the  Breaker,  the  Healer,  our  faithful 
Friend. 

3.  It  frequently  occurs  that  the  circumstances  of 
the  person  at  the  time  of  conversion  afford  grave 
cause  to  doubt  the  divine  character  of  the  wound- 
ings  which  are  felt.     It  is  well  known  that  severe 


78  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAYIOUK. 

sickness  and  prospect  of  deatli  will  produce  a  re- 
pentance so  like  to  genuine,  godly  sorrow,  that  tlie 
wisest  Christians  have  been  misled  by  it.  Many 
have  we  seen  and  heard  of  who  have  expressed  the 
deepest  contrition  for  past  guilt,  and  have  vehe- 
mently cried  for  mercy,  ^Yith  promises  of  amend- 
ment apparently  as  sincere  as  their  confessions 
were  truthful — who  hare  conversed  sweetly  of  par, 
don,  of  joy  in  the  Spirit,  and  have  even  related 
ecstasies  and  marvellous  manifestations ;  and  yet- 
with  all  this,  have  proved  to  be  hypocrites,  by  re- 
turning at  the  first  opportunity  to  their  old  courses 
of  sin  and  folly.  It  hath  happened  unto  them  ac- 
cording to  the  proverb,  "  The  dog  hath  returned  to 
his  vomit,  and  the  sow  that  was  washed  to  her 
wallowing  in  the  mire." 

Pious  Mr.  Booth  writes,  "  I  pay  more  attention 
to  people's  lives  than  to  their  deaths.  In  all  the 
visits  I  have  paid  to  the  sick  during  the  conrse  of 
a  long  ministry,  I  never  met  with  one^  who  was  not 
previously  serious,  that  ever  recovered  from  what 
he  supposed  the  brink  of  death,  who  afterwards 
performed  his  vows  and  became  religious,  notwith- 
standing the  very  great  appearance  there  was  in 
their  favour  when  they  thought  they  could  not 
recover."  "We  find,  also,  ready  to  our  hand,  in  a 
valuable  work,*  the  following  facts,  which  are  but 

*  Arvine's  Cyclopoedia  of  Anecdotes. 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  79 

specimens  of  a  mass  wliicli  miglit  be  given  : — ''  A 
certain  American  physician,  whose  piety  led  him 
to  attend,  not  only  to  peo^^le's  bodies,  but  to  their 
sonls,  stated  that  he  had  known  a  hundred  or  more 
instances  in  his  practice,  of  persons  who,  in  pros- 
pect of  death,  had  been  apparently  converted,  but 
had  subsequently  been  restored  to  health.  Out  of 
them  all  he  did  not  know  of  more  than  three  who 
devoted  themselves  to  the  service  of  Christ  after 
their  recovery,  or  gave  any  evidence  of  genuine 
conversion.  If,  therefore,  they  had  died,  as  they 
expected,  have  we  not  reason  to  believe  that  their 
hopes  of  heaven  would  haVe  proved  terrible  delu- 
sions ? 

^'  A  pious  English  physician  once  stated  that  he 
had  known  some  three  hundred  sick  persons  who, 
soon  expecting  to  die,  liad  been  led,  as  they  sup- 
posed, to  repentance  of  their  sins,  and  saving  faith 
in  Christ,  but  had  eventually  been  restored  to 
health  again.  Only  ten  of  all  this  number,  so  far 
as  he  knew,  gave  any  evidence  of  being  really  re- 
generated. Soon  after  their  recovery  they  plunged, 
as  a  general  thing,  into  the  follies  and  vices  of  the 
world.  Who  would  trust,  then,  in  such  conver- 
sions ?" 

Such  examples  serve  as  a  holy  warning  to  us  all, 
lest  we  too  should  only  feel  an  excitement  produced 
by  terror,  and  should  find  tlie  flame  of  piety  utterly 
quenched  when  the  cause  of  alarm  is  withdrawn. 


80  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUE. 

Some  of  US  can  trace  our  first  serious  tliouglits  to 
tlie  bed  of  sickness,  when,  in  tlie  loneliness  of  our 
chamber,  "  We  thought  upon  our  ways,  and  turned 
our  feet  unto  his   testimonies."^     But   this   very 
circumstance  was  at  the  time  a  source  of  doubt, 
for  we  said  within  ourselves,  "  Will  this  continue 
when  my  sickness  is  removed,  or  shall  I  not  find 
my  apathy  return,  when  again  I  enter  on  the  busi- 
ness of  the  world  ?"     Our  great  anxiety  was  not 
lest  we  should  die,  but  lest  living  we  should  find 
our  holy  feelings  clear  gone,  and  our  piety  evapo- 
rated.    Possibly  our  reader  is  now  sick,  and  this  is 
his  trouble  ;  let  us  help  you  through  it.     Of  course, 
the  best  proof  you  can  have  of  your  own  sincerity 
is  that  which  you  will  receive  when  health  returns, 
if  you  continue  steadfast  in  the  faith  of  Jesus,  and  • 
follow  on  to  know  him.     Perseverance,  when  the 
pressure  is  removed,  will  discover  the  reality  of 
your  repentance.     The  natural  wounds  inflicted  by^ 
Providence  are  healed  soon  after  the  removal  of 
the  rod,  and  folly  is  not  thereby  brought  out  of  the 
heart ;  but  when  Jesus  smites  for  sin,  the  w^ounds 
will  smart  even  when  the  instrumental  rod  of  cor- 
rection is  removed,  while   "  the   blueness   of  the 
wound  cleanseth  away  evil."t     We,  who  had  many 
mock  repentances  ere  we  really  turned  to  the  living 
God,  can  iiow^  see  the  main  spring  of  our  error. 

*  Prov.  cix.  59.  f  Prov.  xx.  30. 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  81 

Every  tliief  loves  honesty  when  he  finds  the  jail 
uneasy  ;  almost  every  murderer  will  regret  that  he 
slew  a  man  when  he  is  ^bout  to  be  executed  for 
his  crime :  here  is  the  first  point  of  distinction 
which  we  beg  our  reader  to  observe. 

That  repentance  lohich  is  genuine  ariseth  not  so 
much  from  dread  of  ])unisliment  as  from  fear  of 
sin.  It  is  not  fear  of  damning,  but  fear  of  sinning, 
which  makes  the  truly  humbled  cry  out  for  grace. 
True,  the  fear  of  hell,  engendered  by  the  threaten- 
ings  of  the  law,  doth  work  in  the  sOul  much  horror 
and  dismay  ;  but  it  is  not  hell  appearing  exceeding 
dreadful^  but  sin  becoming  exceeding  sinful  and 
abominable,  which  is  the  efi'ectual  work  of  grace. 
Any  man  in  his  reason  would  tremble  at  everlast- 
ing burnings,  more  especially  when  by  his  nearness 
to  the  grave  the  heat  of  hell  doth,  as  it  were,  scorch 
him  ;  but  it  is  not  every  dying  man  that  hates  sin 
— yea,  none  do  so  unless  the  Lord  hath  had  deal- 
ings with  their  souls.  Say,  then,  dost  thou  hate 
hell  or  hate  sin  most  ?  for,  verily,  if  there  were  no 
hell,  the  real  penitent  would  love  sin  not  one  whit 
the  more,  and  hate  evil  not  one  particle  the  less. 
Wouldst  thou  love  to  have  thy  sin  and  heaven 
too  ?  If  thou  wouldst,  thou  hast  not  a  single  spark 
of  divine  life  in  thy  soul,  for  one  spark  would  con- 
sume thy  love  to  sin.  Sin  to  a  sin-sick  soul  is  so 
desperate  an  evil  that  it  would  scarce  be  straining 
the  truth  to  say  that  a  real  penitent  had  rather 

4* 


82  THE    SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

suffer  the  pains  of  liell  without  his  sins  than  enter 
the  bliss  of  heaven  with  them,  if  such  things  were 
possible.-  Sin,  sin^  sin,  is  the  accursed  thing  whicli 
the  living  soul  hateth. 

Again  :  saving  rejpentance  will  most  easily  mani- 
fest itself  when  the  subjects  of  our  thoughts  are 
most  heavenly.  By  this  we  mean,  if  our  sorrow 
only  gushes  forth  when  we  are  musing  upon  the 
doom  of  the  wicked,  and  the  wrath  of  God,  we 
have  then  reason  to  suspect  its  evangelical  charac- 
ter; but  if  contemplations  of  Jesus,  of  his  cross, 
of  heaven,  of  eternal  love,  of  covenant  grace,  of 
pardoning  blood  and  full  redemption  bring  tears 
to  our  eyes,  we  may  then  rejoice  that  we  sorrow 
after  a  godly  sort.  The  sinner  awakened  by  the 
Holy  Spirit  will  find  the  source  of  liis  stream  of 
sorrow  not  on  the  thorn-clad  sides  of  Sinai,  but 
on  the  grassy  mound  of  Calvary.  His  cry  will  be, 
"O  sin,  I  hate  thee,  for  thou  didst  murder  my 
Lord;"  and  his  mournful  dirge  over  his  crucified 
Kedeemer  will  be  in  plaintive  words — 

"  'Twas  you,  my  sins,  my  cruel  sins, 

His  chief  tormentors  were  ; 
Each  of  my  crimes  became  a  nail. 

And  unbelief  the  spear  ; 
'Twas  you  that  pull'd  the  vengeance  down 

Upon  his  guiltless  head ; 
Break,  break,  my  heart,  oh  burst  mine  eyes, 

And  let  my  sorrows  bleed," 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  83 

Ye  who  love  the  Lord,  give  your  assent  to  this  our 
declaration,  that  love  did  melt  you  more  than 
wrath,  that  the  wooing  voice  did  more  affect  you 
than  the  condemning  sentence,  and  that  hope  did 
impel  you  more  than  fear.  It  was  when  viewing 
our  Lord  as  crucified,  dead,  and  buried  that  we 
most  wept.  He  with  his  looks  made  us  weep  bit- 
terly, while  the  stern  face  of  Moses  caused  us  to 
tremble,  but  never  laid  us  prostrate  confessing  our 
transgression.  We  sorrow  because  our  offence  is 
against  Him^  against  his  love,  his  blood,  his  grace, 
his  heart  of  aff'ection.  Jesus  is  the  name  which 
subdues  the  stubborn  heart,  if  it  be  truly  brought 
into  subjection  to  the  Gospel.  He  is  the  rod  which 
bringeth  waters  out  of  the  rock,  he  is  the  hammer 
which  breaketh  the  rock  in  pieces. 

Furthermore,  saving  repentance  will  render  the 
conscience  exceedingly  tender,  so  that  it  will  le 
pained  to  the  quic'k  at  the  very  recollection  of  the 
smallest  sin.  Natural  repentance  crieth  out  at  a 
few  master-sins,  which  have  been  most  glaring  and 
heinous — the  more  especially  if  some  visitor  point 
them  out  as  crimes  of  the  blackest  dye ;  but  when 
it  hath  executed  one  or  two  of  these  on  the  gallows 
of  confession,  it  is  content  to  let  whole  hosts  of  less 
notorious  offenders  escape  without  so  much  as  a 
reprimand.  JSTot  so  the  man  whose  penitence  is 
of  divine  origin — he  hates  the  whole  race  of  the 
Evil   One;   like   Elijah  he  will   cry,    "Let  none 


84  THE    SAIi^T   AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

escape ; "  he  will  cut  up  to  the  best  of  his  power 
every  root  of  bitterness  which  may  still  remain, 
nor  will  he  willingly  harbour  a  single  traitor  in  his 
breast.  The  secret  sins,  the  every-clay  offences, 
the  slight  errors  (as  the  w^orld  has  it),  the  harmless 
follies,  the  little  transgressions,  the  peccadilloes,  all 
these  will  be  dragged  forth  to  death  when  the  Lord 
searcheth  the.  heart  with  the  candle  of  his  Spirit. 

Jesus  never  enters  the  soul  of  man  to  drive  out 
one  or  two  sins,  nor  even  to  overcome  a  band  of 
vices  to  the  exception  of  others ;  his  work  is  per- 
fect, not  partial ;  his  cleansings  are  complete  bap- 
tisms; his  purilyings  tend  to  remove  all  our  dross, 
and  consume  all  our  tin.  He  sweeps  the  heart 
from  its  dust  as  well  as  its  Dagons ;  he  suffers  not 
even  the  most  insignificant  spider  of  lust  to  spin 
its  cobweb,  with  allowance,  on  the  walls  of  his 
temple.  All  heinous  sins  and  private  sins,  youth-' 
ful  sius  and  manhood's  sins,  sins  of  omission  and 
of  commission,  of  word  and  of  deed,  of  thought 
and  of  imagination,  sins  against  God  or  against 
man,  all  will  combine  like  a  column  of  serpents  in 
the  desert  to  affright  the  new-born  child  of  heaveu ; 
and  he  will  desire  to  see  the  head  of  every  one  of 
them  broken  beneath  the  heel  of  the  destroyer  of 
evil,  Jesus,  the  seed  of  the  woman.  Believe  not 
thyself  to  be  truly  awakened  unless  thou  abhorrest 
sin  in  all  its  stages,  from  the  embryo  to  the  ripe 
fruit,  and  in   all  its  shades,  from  the  commonly 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  85 

allowed  lust  down  to  the  open  and  detested  crime. 
"When  Hannibal  took  oath  of  perpetual  hatred  to 
the  Romans,  he  included  in  that  oath  plebeians  as 
well  as  patricians ;  so  if  thou  art  indeed  at  enmity 
with  evil,  thou  wilt  abhor  all  iniquity,  even  though 
it  be  of  the  very  lowest  degree.  Beware  that  thou 
write  not  down  affright  at  one  sin  as  being  repent- 
auce  for  all. 

There  are,  doubtless,  other  forms  and  phases  of 
doubt,  but  our  space  does  not  allow  us  to  mention 
more,  nor  does  the  character  of  the  volume  require 
that  we  should  expatiate  on  more  of  these  than  are 
the  most  usual  causes  of  grief  to  the  Lord's  people. 
AYe  beseech  the  ever-gracious  Spirit  to  reveal  the 
person  of  Jesus  to  every  smitten  sinner ;  to  anoint 
his  eyes  with  eye-salve,  that  he  may  see  the  heart 
of  love  which  moves  the  hand  of  rebuke,  and  to 
guide  every  mourning  seeker  to  the  cross,  whence 
pardon  and  comfort  ever  flow.  It  is  none  other 
than  Jesus  who  thus  frowns  us  to  our  senses,  and 
chastises  us  to  right  reason  ;  may  the  Holy  Ghost 
lead  every  troubled  one  to  believe  this  encouraging 
doctrine,  then  shall  our  heart's  desire  be  granted. 

"We  cannot,  however,  bring  our  remarks  to  a 
close  until  again  we  have  urged  the  duty  of  self- 
examination,  which  is  at  once  the  most  important 
and  most  neglected  of  all  religious  exercises. 

When  we  think  how  solemn  is  the  alternative 
^^saved^^  ov 'Ulamned,^^  ^vq  cannot  but  importune 


86  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUK. 

our  readers,  as  they  love  their  souls,  to  "  examine 
themselves  whether  they  be  in  the  faith."  Oh ! 
remember  it  will  be  all  too  late  to  decide  this  ques- 
tion soon,  since  it  will  cease  to  be  a  question.  The 
time  will  have  passed  for  hopeful  changes  and 
gracious  discoveries ;  the  only  changes  will  be  to 
torments  more  excruciating,  and  discoveries  then 
willbut  reveal  horrors  more  and  more  bitterly 
astounding.  ,  We  wonder  not  that  men  should 
anxiously  inquire  concerning  their  position ;  we 
might  marvel  more  that  the  most  of  them  are  so 
indiiferent,  so  utterly  careless  to  the  things  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  It  is  not  our  body,  our  estate, 
our  liberty,  concerning  which  there  is  this  question 
at  law,  it  is  a  suit  of  far  weightier  nature — our 
eternal  existence  in  heaven  or  hell.  Let  us  nar- 
rowly inspect  our  innermost  feelings  ;  let  us  search 
what  manner  of  men  we  be ;  let  us  rigidly  scru- 
tinize our  heart,  and  learn  whether  it  be  right  with 
God  or  no.  Let  not  the  good  opinion  of  our  fel- 
low-men mislead  us,  but  let  us  search  for  ourselves, 
lest  we  be  found  like  the  mariner  who  bought  his 
bags  of  one  who  filled  them  not  with  biscuit  but 
with  stones,  and  he,  relying  on  the  merchant's 
word,  found  himself  in  the  broad  ocean  without  a 
morsel  of  food.  Yet  if  good  men  tell  us  we  are 
wrong,  let  us  not  despise  their  opinion,  for  it  is 
more  easy  to  deceive  ourselves  than  the  elect.  He 
was  not  far  from  truth  who  said,  ''  We  strive  as 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  87 

hard  to  liide  our  hearts  from  ourselves  as  from  ' 
others,  and  always  with  more  success ;  for,  in  ; 
deciding  ujDon  our  own  case,  we  are  both  judge,  ; 
and  jury,  and  executioner;  and  where  sophistry 
cannot  overcome  the  first,  or  flattery  the  second, 
self-love  is  always  ready  to  defeat  the  sentence  by 
bribing  the  third — a  bribe  that  in  this  case  is  never 
refused,  because  she  always  comes  up  to  the 
price."^  Since  we  are  liable  to  be  self-deceived7 
let  us  be  the  more  vigilant,  giving  most  earnest 
heed  to  every  warning  and  reproof,  lest  the  very 
warning  which  we  slight  should  be  that  which 
might  have  shown  us  our  dangei*.  Many  trades- 
men are  ruined  by  neglecting  their  books  ;  but  he 
who  frequently  casts  up  his  accounts  will  know  his 
own  position,  and  avoid  such  things  as  would  be 
hazardous  or  destructive.  'No  ship  was  ever 
wrecked  by  the  captain's  over- anxiety  in  taking 
his  longitude  and  latitude ;  but  the  wailing  sea 
bears  sad  witness  to  the  fate  of  careless  mariners, 
who  forgot  their  chart,  and  wantonly  steered 
onward  to  rocks  which  prudent  foresight  would 
easily  have  avoided.  Let  us  not  sleep  as  do  others, 
but  rouse  ourselves  to  persevering  watchfulness, 
by  the  solemn  consideration  that  if  we  be  at  last 
mistaken  in  our  soul's  condition,  the  error  can 
never  be  amended.     Here,  if  one  battle  be  lost,  a 

*  Colton. 


88  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS   SAYIOUE. 

hopeful  commander  expects  to  retrieve  his  fortunes 
by  fiitm-e  victory  ;  but  let  us  once  fail  to  overcome 
in  the  struggle  of  life,  our  defeat  is  everlasting. 
The  bankrupt  merchant  cheers  his  spirit  with  the 
prospect  of  commencing  trade  again — business 
may  yet  prosper,  competence  may  yet  bless  him, 
and  even  wealth  may  deign  to  fill  his  house  with  her 
hidden  treasures  ;  but  he  who  finds  himself  a  bank- 
rupt in  another  world,  without  God,  without  Christ, 
without  hope,  must  abide  for  ever  penniless,  craving, 
with  a  beggar's  lip,  the  hopeless  boon  of  one  poor 
drop  of  water  to  cool  his  burning  tongue.  When 
life  is  over  with  the  unrighteous  all  is  over — where 
the  tree  falleth  there  it  must  for  ever  lie  ;  death  is 
the  Medusa's  head,  petrifying  our  condition — he 
that  is  unholy,  shall  be  unholy  still ;  he  that  is 
unjust,  must  be  unjust  still.  If  there  were  the 
most  remote  possibility  of  rectifying  our  present 
errors  in  a  future  state  of  existence,  we  might  have 
some  excuse  for  superficial  or  infrequent  investiga- 
tion ;  this,  however,  is  utterly  out  of  the  question, 
for  grace  is  bounded  by  the  grave.  If  we  be  in 
Christ,  all  that  heaven  knows  of  unimaginable 
bliss,  of  inconceivable  glory,  of  unutterable  ecstasy, 
shall  be  ours  most  richly  to  enjoy  ;  but  if  death 
shall  find  us  out  of  Christ,  horrors  surpassing 
thought,  terrors  beyond  the  dreamings  of  despair, 
and  tortures  above  the  guess  of  misery,  must  be  our 
doleful,  desperate  doom.     IIow  full  of  trembling  is 


i 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  89 

tlie  tlioiiglit,  tliat  multitudes  of  fair  jDrofessors  are 
now  in  hell :  although  they,  like  ourselves,  once 
wore  a  goodly  name,  and  hoped  as  others  said  of 
them,  that  they  were  ripening  for  glory  ;  whereas 
they  were  fattening  for  the  slaughter,  and  were 
drugged  for  execution  with  the  cup  of  delusion, 
dreaming  all  the  while  that  they  were  drinking  the 
wines  on  the  lees,  well  refined.  Surely,  among  the 
damned,  there  are  none  more  horribly  tormented 
in  the  flame  than  those  who  looked  to  walk  the 
golden  streets,  but  found  themselves  cast  into 
outer  darkness,  where  there  is  weeping,  and  wail- 
ing, and  gnashing  of  teeth.  The  higher  the  pinna- 
cle from  which  we  slip,  the  more  fearful  will  be 
our  fall ;  crownless  kings,  beggared  princes,  and 
starving  nobles  ;  are  the  more  pitiable  because  of 
their  former  condition  of  affluence  and  grandeur : 
so  also  will  fallen  professors  have  a  sad  pre-emi- 
nence of  damnation,  from  the  very  fact  that  they 
were  once  esteemed  rich  and  increased  in  goods. 
When  we  consider  the  vast  amount  of  unsound 
profession  which  prevails  in  this  age,  and  which, 
like  a  smooth  but  shallow  sea,  doth  scarcely  conceal 
the  rocks  of  hypocrisy — when  we  review  the  many 
lamentable  falls  which  have  lately  occurred  among 
the  most  eminent  in  the  Church,  we  would  lift  up 
our  voice  like  a  trumpet,  and  with  all  our  might 
entreat  all  men  to  be  sure  of  their  grounds  of  trust, 
lest  it  should  come  to  pass  that  sandy  foundations 


90  THE   SAINT  AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

should  be  discovered  when  total,  destruction  has 
rendered  it  too  late  for  anything  but  despair. 

O  age  of  profession,  put  thyself  in  the  crucible  ! 
O  nation  of  formalists,  take  heed  lest  ye  receive  the 
form  and  reject  the  Spirit!  O  reader,  let  us  each 
commence  a  thorough  trial  of  our  own  spirits  ! 

"  Oh !  what  am  I  ?     My  soul  awake, 
And  an  impartial  survey  take  : 
Does  no  dark  sign,  no  ground  of  fear, 
In  practice  or  in  heart  appear  ? 

"  What  image  does  my  spirit  bear  ? 
Is  Jesus  form'd  and  living  there  ? 
Say,  do  his  lineaments  divine 
In  thought,  and  word,  and  action,  shine  ? 

"  Searcher  of  hearts !  oh  search  me  still, 
The  secrets  of  my  soul  reveal ; 
My  fears  remove,  let  me  appear 
To  God  and  my  own  conscience  clear. 

"  May  I  at  that  bless'd  world  arrive, 
Where  Christ  through  all  my  soul  shall  live. 
And  give  full  proof  that  he  is  there, 
Without  one  gloomy  doubt  or  fear." 

in.  We  close  our  chapter  by  the  third  remark 
— the  wounds  of  our  Jesus  were  faithful.  Here 
proof  will  be  entirely  an  unnecessary  excess,  but 
we  think  meditation  will  be  a  j^rofitable  engage- 
ment. Ah!  brethren,  when  we  were  groaning 
under  the  chastening  hand  of  Jesus,  we  thought 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  91 

liim  cruel ;  do  we  think  so  ill  of  liim  now  ?  "We 
conceived  that  he  was  wroth  with  us,  and  would  be 
implacable ;  how  have  our  surmises  proved  to  be 
utterly  confounded  I  The  abundant  benefit  which 
we  now  reap  from  the  deep  ploughing  of  our  heart 
is  enough  of  itself  to  reconcile  us  to  the  severity 
of  the  process.  Precious  is  that  wine  which  is 
pressed  in  the  winefat  of  conviction  ;  pure  is  that 
gold  which  is  dug  from  the  mines  of  repentance  ; 
and  bright  are  those  pearls  which  are  found  in  the 
caverns  of  deep  distress.  We  might  never  have 
known  such  deep  humility  if  He  had  not  humbled 
us.  "We  had  never  been  so  separated  from  fleshly 
trusting  had  He  not  by  his  rod  revealed  the  cor- 
ruption and  disease  of  our  heart.  We  had  never 
learned  to  comfort  the  feeble-minded,  and  confirm 
the  weak,  had  he  not  made  us  ready  to  halt,  and 
caused  our  sinew  to  shrink.  If  we  have  any  power 
to  console  the  weary,  it  is  the  result  of  our  remem- 
brance of  what  we  once  sufi'ered — for  here  lies  our 
power  to  sympathise.  If  we  can  now  look  down 
with  scorn  upon  the  boastings  of  vain,  self-con- 
ceited man,  it  is  because  our  own  vaunted  strength 
has  utterly  failed  us,  and  made  us  contemptible  in 
our  own  eyes.  If  we  can  now  plead  with  ardent 
desire  for  the  souls  of  our  fellow-men,  and  especi- 
ally if  we  feel  a  mofe  than  common  passion  for  the 
salvation  of  sinners,  we  must  attribute  it  in  no 
small  deo^ree  to  the  fact  that  we  have  been  smitten 


92  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

for  sin,  and  therefore  knowing  the  terrors  of  the 
Lord  are  constrained  to  persuade  men.  The  labo- 
rious pastor,  the  fervent  minister,  the  ardent  evan- 
gelist, the  faithful  teacher,  the  powerful  intercessor, 
can  all  trace  the  birth  of  their  zeal  to  the  sufferings 
they  endured  for  sin,  and  the  knowledge  they 
thereby  attained  of- its  evil  nature.  We  have  ever 
drawn  the  sharpest  arrows  from  the  quiver  of  our 
own  experience.  We  find  no  sword-blades  so  true 
in  metal  as  those  which  have  been  forged  in  the 
furnace  of  soul-trouble.  Aaron's  rod,  that  budded, 
bore  not  one  half  so  much  fruit  as  the  rod  of  the 
covenant,  which  is  laid  upon  the  back  of  every 
chosen  child  of  God ;  this  alone  may  render  us 
eternally  grateful  to  the  Saviour  for  his  rebukes  of 
love. 

•  We  may  pause  for  a  moment  over  another 
thought,  if  we  call  to  mind  our  deep  depravity. 
AYe  find  within  us  a  strong  and  deep-seated  attach- 
ment to  the  world  and  its  sinful  pleasures;  our 
heart  is  still  prone  to  wander,  and  our  affections 
yet  cleave  to  things  below.  Can  we  wonder  then 
that  it  recpired  a  sharp  knife  to  sever  us  at  first 
from  our  lusts,  which  were  then  as  dear  to  us  as 
the  members  of  our  body?  so  foul  a  disease  could 
only  be  healed  by  frequent  draughts  of  bitter  medi- 
cine. Let  US  detest  the  sin  which  rendered  such 
rough  dealing  necessary,  but  let  us  adore  the 
Saviour  who  spared  not  the  child  for  his  crying. 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  93 

If  our  sin  had  been  like  tlie  hyssop  on  the  wall, 
our  own  hand  might  have  gentlj'  snapped  the 
roots;  but  having  become  lofty  as  a  cedar  of 
Lebanon,  and  firmly  settled  in  its  place,  only  tlie 
omnipotent  voice  of  Jehovah  could  avail  to  break 
it :  we  will  not  therefore  complain  of  the  loudness 
of  the  thunder,  but  rejoice  at  the  overturning  of 
our  sin.  "Will  the  man  who  is  asleep  in  a  burning 
house  murmur  at  his  deliverer  for  shaking  him  too 
roughly  in  his  bed  ?  Would  the  traveller,  totter- 
ing on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  upbraid  the  friend 
who  startled  him  from  his  reverie,  and  saved  him 
from  destruction  ?  "Would  not  the  harshest  words 
and  the  roughest  usage  be  acknowledged  most 
heartily  as  blows  of  love  and  warnings  of  affection  ? 
Best  of  all,  when  we  view  these  matters  in  the  light 
of  eternity,  how  little  are  these  slight  and  moment- 
ary afflictions  compared  with  the  doom  thereby 
escaped,  or  the  bliss  afterwards  attained  !  Stand- 
ino^  where  our  ears  can  be  filled  with  the  wailing-s 
of  the  lost,  where  our  eyes  are  grieved  by  sights 
of  the  hideous  torments  of  the  damned — contem- 
plating for  an  instant  the  fathomless  depth  of  eter- 
nal misery,  with  all  its  deprivation,  desperation, 
and  aggravation — considering  that  we  at  this  hour 
might  have  been  in  our  own  persons  enduring  the 
doom  we  deprecate, — surely  it  is  easy  work  to 
overlook  the  pain  of  our  conviction,  and  bless  with 
all  sincerity  "the  hand  which   rescued  us."     O 


94:  THE   SAINT  AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

hammer  wliicli  broke  our  fetters,  how  can  we  think 
ill  of  thee !  O  angel  which  smote  ns  on  the  side, 
and  let  us  out  of  the  prison-house,  can  we  do  aught 
but  love  thee  !  O  Jesus,  our  glorious  deliverer,  we 
would  love  thee,  live  to  thee,  and  die  for  thee ! 
seeing  thou  hast  loved  us,  and  hast  proved  that 
love  in  thy  life  and  in  thy  death.  ISTever  can  we 
think  thee  unmerciful,  for  thou  wast  mercifully 
severe.  We  are  sure  not  one  stroke  fell  too  hea- 
vity,  nor  was  one  pang  too  painful.  Faithful  thou 
wast  in  all  thy  dealings,  and  our  songs  shall  exalt 
thee  in  all  thy  ways,  even  when  thou  causest  groans 
to  proceed  from  our  wounded  spirits.  And  when 
our  spirits  shall  fly  toward  thy  throne  of  light, 
though  in  their  unceasing  hallelujahs  thy  tender 
mercies  and  loving  kindnesses  shall  claim  the  high- 
est notes,  yet,  midst  the  rapturous  hosannahs,  shall 
be  heard  the  psalm  "  of  remembrance  "  sounding 
forth  our  praise  for  the  rod  of  the  covenant  and  the 
hand  of  affliction.  "While  here  on  earth  we  hymn 
thy  praise  in  humbler  strains,  and  thus  adore  thy 
love — 

"Long  unafflicted,  undismay'd, 
In  pleasure's  path  secure  I  stray'd. 
Thou  mad'st  me  feel  thy  chastening  rod, 
And  straight  I  turned  unto  my  God. 

"What  though  it  pierced  my  fainting  heart, 
I  bless  the  hand  that  caused  the  smart ; 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  95 

It  taught  my  tears  awhile  to  flow, 
But  saved  me  from  eternal  woe. 

'Oh!  hadst  thou  left  me  unchastised, 
Thy  precepts  I  had  still  despised, 
And  still  the  snare,  in  secret  laid, 
Had  my  unwary  feet  betrayed 

I  love  thee,  therefore,  0  my  God, 
And  breathe  towards  thy  dear  abode ; 
Where,  in  thy  presence  fully  blest, 
Thy  chosen  saints  for  ever  rest." 


96  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 


TO  TfJE  UKCOKYEETED  EEADEE. 


Friend, — In  this  chapter  thou  hast  parted  com- 
pany with  the  Christian.  Thoii  coiildst  join  with 
him  while  he  esteemed  not  Jesus,  but  now  that 
Christ  has  begun  to  w^ound  the  conscience  of  his 
child,  thou  biddest  him  adieu,  and  proudly  boas- 
teth  that  thou  art  not  one  of  so  miserable  a  charac- 
ter. ^Notwithstanding  this,  1  am  loath  to  part  w^ith 
thee  until  I  have  again  expostulated  with  thee. 

Thou  thinkest  it  a  blessing  to  be  free  from  the 
sad  feelings  we  have  been  describing,  but  let  me 
tell  thee  it  is  thy  curse — thy  greatest,  deadliest 
curse  that  *thou  art  a  stranger  to  such  inward 
mourning  for  thy  guilt.  In  the  day  when  the 
Judge  of  heaven  and  earth  shall  divide  tares  from 
wheat,  thou  wilt  see  how^  terrible  it  is  to  be  an  un- 
regenerate  sinner.  "When  the  flames  of  hell  get 
hold  upon  thee,  thou  wilt  wish  in  vain  for  that  very 
experience  which  now  thou  dost  set  at  nought.  It 
will  not  be  all  May-day  with  thee  ;  thine  hour  of 
death  is  as  sure  as  another  man's,  and  then  a  bet- 


FAITHFUL   WOUNDS.  97 

ter  tlian  I  sliall  convince  thee  of  tliine  error.  Langh 
not  at  weeping  souls,  account  tliem  not  to  be  in  a 
pitiable  plight ;  for  sad  as  their  condition  appears, 
it  is  not  half  so  sad  as  thine,  and  there  is  not  one 
of  all  those  moaning  penitents  who  would  change 
places  with  thee  for  an  hour.  Their  grief  is  greater 
joy  than  thy  bliss  ;  thy  laughter  is  not  so  sweet  as 
their  groans  ;  and  thy  pleasant  estate  is  despicable 
compared  with  their  sorest  distress.  Besides,  re- 
member those  who  are  now  in  such  darkness  will 
soon  see  the  light,  but  thou  shalt  soon  walk  in 
increasing  and  unceasing  darkness.  Their  sorrows 
sliall  be  ended  ;  thine  are  not  yet  commenced,  and 
when  commenced  shall  never  know  a  conclusion. 
Theirs  is  liojpeful  distress ;  thine  will  be  Jiojyeless 
agony.  Their  chastisement  comes  from  a  loving 
Jesus ;  thine  will  proceed  from  an  angry  God. 
Theirs  has  for  its  certain  end  eteenal  salvation  ; 
thine  eveklasting  damnation.  Oh  !  bethink  thee 
for  a  moment,  wouldst  thou  rather  choose  to  have 
painless  mortification  and  so  perish, 'than  to  feel 
soreness  in  thy  wounds  and  then  receive  a  cure  ? 
Wouldst  thou  rather  lie  and  rot  in  a  dungeon  than 
bruise  thyself  by  climbing  the  wall  to  escape  ? 
Surely  thou  wouldst  endure  anything  rather  than 
be  damned  ;  and  I  bid  thee  take  this  for  truth,  that 
thou  shalt  either  repent  or  burn  ;  thou  shalt  either 
shed  tears  of  penitence  here,  or  else  shriek  in  vain 
for  a  drop  of  water  in  that  pit  which  burneth  with 

5 


98  THE   SAINT   AND  HIS   SAVIOTTR. 

fire  Tinquencliable.  What  sayest  tliou  to  this? 
Canst  thou  dwell  with  devouring  flames  ?  Canst 
thou  abide  the  eternal  burnings  ?  Ah !  be  not 
mad,  I  entreat  thee.  Why  shouldst  thou  destroy 
thyself?  What  good  will  come  of  it  when  thy 
blood  shall  be  laid  at  thine  own  door  ?  Hast  thou 
not  siuned  ?  Why  then  think  it  foolish  to  repent  ? 
Has  not  God  threatened  his  fierce  wrath  to  him 
that  goeth  on  in  his  iniquity  ?  Why  then  despise 
those  whom  grace  has  turned,  and  who  therefore  are 
constrained  to  bid  thee  turn  from  the  error  of  thy 
sinful  ways  ?  May  the  Lord  stay  thy  madness  in 
time,  and  give  thee  repentance,  otherwise  "  Tophet 
is  ordained  of  old  :  the  pile  thereof  is  fire  and  much 
wood ;  the  breath  of  the  Lord,  like  a  stream  of 
brimstone,  doth  kindle  it."  * 

*  Isa.  XXX.  33. 


III. 

JESUS    DESIRED. 

"  Oh  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find  him!" — Job  xxiii.  3. 


A  WHILE  the  wonndings  of  Jesus  are  given  in  tlie 
dark,  and  we  do  not  recognise  the  hand  which 
smiteth  ns ;  but  it  is  not  always  to  be  so.  Inces- 
sant disappointments  put  us  out  of  all  heart  with 
the  former  refuges  of  our  souls,  and  renewed  dis- 
coveries make  us  sadly  aware  of  the  superlative 
evil  dwelling  in  our  Hesh ;  stripped  thus  of  all 
covering  without,  and  trembling  at  our  own  shame- 
ful impotence,  we  hail  with  gladness  the  news  of  a 
Saviour  for  sinners.  As  on  the  frail  raft,  the  almost 
skeleton  mariners,  having  long  ago  devoured  their 
last  morsel,  raise  themselves  with  all  their  remaining 
strength  to  catch  a  glimj)se  of  a  passing  sail,  if 
haply  it  may  bring  relief,  so  doth  the  dying  sinner 
receive  with  eagerness  the  message  of  coming 
grace.  He  might  have  scorned  the  terms  of  mercy 
once,  but  like  a  city  long  besieged,  he  is  now  too  glad 


100  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUE. 

to  iticeive  peace  at  any  price.  The  grace  wliicli  in 
his  high  estate  he  counted  as  a  worthless  thing,  is 
now  the  great  object  of  his  combined  desires.  He 
pants  to  see  the-  Man  who  is  "  mighty  to  save," 
and  would  count  it  honor  to  kiss  his  feet  or  nnloose 
the  latchet  of  his  shoes.  'No  cavillino:  at  sovereis^ntv, 
no  mnrmm'ing  at  self-humiliation,  no  scorning  the 
unpurchasable  gifts  of  discriminating  love ;  the 
man  is  too  poor  to  be  proud,  too  sick  to  struggle 
with  his  physician,  too  much  afraid  of  death  to  re- 
fuse the  king's  pardon  because  it  puts  him  under 
obligation.  Happy  is  it  for  us  if  we  understand 
this  position  of  utter  helplessness  into  which  we 
must  all  be  brought  if  we  would  know  Christ ! 

It  is  one  of  the  strange  things  in  the  dealings  of 
Jesus,  that  even  when  we  arrive  at  this  state  of  en- 
tire spiritual  destitution,  we  do  not  always  become 
at  once  the  objects  of  his  justifying  grace.  Long 
seasons  frequently  intervene  between  our  know- 
ledge of  our  ruin,  our  hearing  of  a  deliverer,  and 
the  application  of  that  deliverer's  hand.  The  Lord's 
own  called  ones  frequently  turn  their  eyes  to  the 
hills,  and  find  no  help  coming  therefrom ;  yea, 
they  wish  to  look  unto  him,  but  they  are  so  blinded 
that  they  cannot  discern  him  as  ^Am^  hope  and 
consolation.  This  is  not,  as  some  would  rashly 
conclude,  because  he  is  not  the  Saviour  for  such  as 
they  are.  Far  otherwise.  Unbelief  crieth  out, 
"  Ah !  my  vileness  disqualifies  me  for  Christ,  and 


JESUS   DESIRED.  101 

my  exceeding  sinfulness  slmts  out  his  love  ?"  How 
foully  dotli  unbelief  lie  when  it  thus  slandereth  the 
tender  heart  of  Jesus !  how  inhumanly  cruel  it  is 
when  it  thus  takes  the  cup  of  salvation  from  the 
only  lips  which  have  a  right  to  drink  thereof !  We 
have  noticed  in  the  preaching  of  the  present  day 
too  much  of  a  saint's  gospel,  and  too  little  of  a  sin- 
ner's gospel.  Honesty,  morality,  and  goodness, 
are  commended  not  so  mnch  as  the  marks  of  god- 
liness, as  the  life  of  it ;  and  men  are  told  that  as 
they  sow,  so  they  shall  reap,  without  the  absolutely 
necessary  caveat  that  salvation  is  not  of  man,  nei- 
ther by  man,  and  that  grace  cometh  not  to  him 
that  worketh,  but  to  him  that  belie veth  on  Him 
that  justiiieth  the  nngodly.  JSTot  thus  spake  our 
ancient  preachers  when  in  all  its  fullness  they  de- 
clared— 

"  Not  the  righteous,  not  the  righteous — 
Sinners,  Jesus  came  to  save." 

The  words  of  a  much  calumniated  preacher  are 
not  less  bold  than  true  : 

"  There  is  nothing  in  men,  thongh  never  so  vile, 
that  can  debar  a  person  from  a  part  in  Christ. 
Some  will  not  have  Christ,  except  they  can  pay  for 
him  ;  others  dare  not  meddle  with  Christ,  because 
they  are  such  vile  and  wretched  creatures,  that 
they  think  it  impossible  that  Christ  should  belong 
to  such  wretched  persons  as  they  are.     You  know 


102  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

not  (saitli  one)  what  an  abominable  sinner  I  am ; 
you  look  upon  others,  and  their  sins  are  but  ordi- 
nary, but  mine  are  of  a  deep  dye,  and  I  shall  die- 
in  them :  the  rebellion  of  my  heart  is  another  kind 
of  rebellion  than  is  in  others.  Beloved,  let  me  tell 
you  freely  from  the  Lord,  let  men  deem  you  as 
they  will,  and  esteem  yourself  as  bad  as  you  can, 
I  tell  you  from  the  Lord,  and  I  will  make  it  good, 
there  is  not  that  sinfulness  that  can  be  imagined  in 
a  creature  that  can  be  able  to  separate  or  debar 
any  of  you  from  a  part  in  Christ ;  even  though  you 
are  thus  sinful,  Christ  may  be  your  Christ.  'Naj, 
I  go  further ;  suppose  one  person  in  this  congrega- 
tion should  not  only  be  the  vilest  sinner  in  the 
world,  but  should  have  all  the  sins  of  others,  be- 
sides what  he  himself  hath  committed ;  if  all  these 
were  laid  upon  the  back  of  him,  he  should  be  a 
greater  sinner  than  now  he  is ;  yet,  if  he  should 
bear  all  the  sins  of  others,  as  I  said,  there  is  no  bar 
to  this  person,  but  Christ  may  be  his  portion.  'He 
bore  the  sins  of  many'  (saith  the  text),  but  he  bare 
them  not  as  his  own,  he  bare  them  for  many.  Sup- 
pose the  many,  that  are  sinners,  should  have  all 
their  sins  translated  to  one  in  particular,  still  there 
is  no  more  sin  than  Christ  died  for,  though  they  be 
all  collected  together.  If  other  men's  sins  were 
translated  upon  you,  and  they  had  none,  then  they 
needed  no  Christ ;  all  the  need  they  had  of  Christ 
were   translated  to  you,  and  then  the  whole  of 


JESTJS   DESIRED.  103 

Christ's  obedience  slionld  be  yours.  Do  but  ob- 
serve the  strain  of  the  Gospel,  you  shall  find  that 
no  sin  in  the  world  can  be  a  bar  to  hinder  a  person 
from  having  a  part  in  Christ ;  look  upon  the  con- 
dition of  persons  (as  they  are  revealed  in  the  Gos- 
pel) to  whom  Christ  is  reached  out ;  and  the  con- 
sideration of  their  persons  will  plainly  show  to  yon 
that  there  is  no  kind  of  sinfulness  can  bar  a  person 
from  having  a  part  in  Christ.  Consider  Christ's 
own  expression,  '  I  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that 
which  was  lost ;  I  came  not  to  call  the  righteous, 
bnt  sinners,  to  repentance ;  the  whole  need  not  a 
physician,  but  they  that  are  sick ;'  here  still  the 
persons  are  considered  in  the  worst  condition  (as 
some  might  think)  rather  than  in  the  best.  Our 
Saviour  -is  pleased  to  express  himself  in  a  direct 
contrary  way  to  the  opinion  of  men.  '  I  came  not 
to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners ;'  the  poor  pub- 
lican that  had  nothing  to  plead  for  himself  went 
away  more  justified  than  the  proud  pharisee,  who 
pleaded  with  God,  ^I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not 
such  an  one.' 

]Men  think  righteonsness  brings  them  near  to 
Christ ;  beloved,  our  righteousness  is  that  which 
puts  a  man  away  from  Christ ;  stumble  not  at  the 
expression,  it  is  the  clear  truth  of  the  Gospel ;  not 
simply  a  doing  of  service  and  duty  doth  pnt  away 
from  Christ ;  but  npon  the  doing  of  duty  and  ser- 
vice to  expect  acceptance  with  Christ  or  participa- 


104  THE   SAINT  AND   HIS   SAYIOUE. 

tion  in  Christ — tliis  kind  of  rigliteonsness  is  the 
only  separation  between  Christ  and  a  people  ;  and 
whereas  no  sinfulness  in  the  world  can  debar  a 
people,  their  righteonsness  may  debar  them."  * 

Possibly  some  may  object  to  such  terms  as  these 
as  being  too  strong  and  unguarded,  but  a  fnll  con- 
sideration of  them  will  show  that  they  are  such  as 
would  naturally  flow  from  the  lips  of  a  Luther 
when  inculcating  faith  alone  as  tlie  means  of  our 
salvation,  and  are  fully  borne  out  by  the  strong 
exj)ressions  of  Paul  when  writing  to  the  Pomans 
and  Galatians.  The  fact  is,  that  very  strong  terms 
are  necessary  to  make  men  see  the  whole  of  this 
truth,  for  it  is  one  which  of  all  things  the  mind  can 
least  receive. 

If  it  were  possible  to  make  men  clearly  under- 
stand that  justification  is  not  in  the  least  degree  by 
their  own  works,  how^  easy  would  it  be  to  comfort 
them  !  but  herein  lies  the  greatest  of  all  difficulties. 
Man  cannot  be  taught  that  his  goodness  is  no  in- 
crease to  God's  wealth,  and  his  sin  no  diminution 
of  divine  riches  ;  he  will  for  ever  be  imagining  that 
some  little  presents  mnst  be  offered,  and  that  mercy 
never  can  be  the  gratuitous  bounty  of  Heaven. 
Even  the  miserable  creature  who  has  learned  his 
own  bankruptcy  and  beggary,  while  assured  that 
he  cannot  bring  anything,  yet  trembles  to  come 

\  *  Crisp. 


JESrS   DESIEED.  105 

naked  and  as  lie  is.  lie  knows  he  cannot  do  any- 
thing, but  lie  can  scarcely  credit  tlie  promise  which 
seems  too  good  to  be  true — "  I  will  heal  their  back- 
sliding, I  will  love  them  freely  :  for  mine  anger  is 
turned  away  from  him."  *  Yea,  when  he  cannot 
deny  the  evidence  of  his  own  eyes,  because  the 
kind  word  stares  him  in  the  face,  he  wdll  turn  away 
from  its  glories  under  the  sad  supposition  that  they 
are  intended  for  all  men  save  himself.  The  air, 
the  stream,  the  fruit,  the  joys  and  luxuries  of  life, 
he  takes  freely,  nor  ever  asks  whether  these  were 
not  intended  for  a  special  people  ;  but  at  the  upper 
springs  he  stands  fearing  to  dip  his  pitcher,  lest  the 
flowing  flood  should  refuse  to  enter  it  because  the 
vessel  was  too  earthy  to  be  fit  to  contain  such 
pure  and  precious  water  :  conscious  that  in  Christ 
is  all  his  help,  it  yet  appears  too  great  a  presump- 
tion even  to  touch  the  hem  of  the  Saviour's  gar- 
ment. 'EoY  is  it  easy  to  joersuade  the  mourning 
penitent  that  sin  is  no  barrier  to  grace,  but  that 
"  where  sin  aboundeth,  grace  did  much  more 
abound  ;"  and  only  the  spirit  of  God  can  make  the 
man  who  knows  himself  as  nothing  at  all,  receive 
Jesus  as  his  all  in  all.  When  the  Lord  has  set  his 
heart  on  a  man,  it  is  not  a  great  difiiculty  that  will 
move  him  from  his  purpose  of  salvation,  and  there- 
fore ''  he  devises  means  that  His  banished  be  not 
expelled  from  him."  f     By  the  divine  instruction 

*  Hos.  XIV.  4.  f  2  Sam.  xiv.  14. 

5* 


106  THE   SAmT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

of  the  Hoi  J  Ghost,  the  sinner  is  taught  that  Jesus 
is  the  sinner's  friend,  adapted  to  his  case,  and 
"  able  to  save  imto  the  uttermost."  Even  then,  too 
often,  the  work  is  not  complete  ;  for  the  soul  now 
labours  to  find  him  whom  it  needs,  and  it  often 
happens  that  the  search  is  prolonged  through 
months  of  weariness  and  days  of  languishing.  K 
the  Church,  in  the  canticles,  confesses,  "  By  night 
on  mj  bed  I  sought  him  whom  my  soul  loveth  :  I 
sought  him,  but  I  found  him  not.  I  will  rise  now, 
and  go  about  the  city  in  the  streets,  and  in  the 
broad  ways  I  will  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth  ; 
I  sought  him,  but  I  found  him  not,"  surely,  even 
if  our  reader's  history  does  not  confirm  the  fact 
that  grace  is  sometimes  hidden,  he  will  at  least 
assent  to  the  probability  of  it,  and  pray  for  the 
many  who  are  crying,  "  Oh  that  I  knew  where  I 
might  find  him !" 

May  Jesus  smile  on  our  humble  endeavour  to 
trace  the  steps  of  our  own  soul,  so  that  any  who 
are  in  this  miserable  condition  may  escape  by  the 
same  means !  O  ye  prisoners  of  hope,  who  are 
seeking  a  Eedeemer  who  apparently  eludes  your 
grasp,  let  your  earnest  prayer  accompany  your 
reading,  while  you  fervently  cry — 

"  Saviour,  cast  a  pitying  eye, 
Bid  my  sins  and  sorrows  end ; 
Whither  should  a  sinner  fly  ? 
Art  not  thou  the  sinner's  friend? 


JESUS   DESIEED.  107 

Rest  in  thee  I  gasp  to  find, 
"Wretched  I,  and  poor,  and  blind. 

"Didst  thou  ever  see  a  soul 
More  in  need  of  help  than  mine  ? 
Then  refuse  to  make  me  -^hole  ; 
Then  withhold  the  balm  divine ; 
But  if  I  do  want  thee  most, 
Come,  and  seek,  and  save  the  lost. 

''Haste,  oh  haste  to  my  relief; 
From  the  iron  furnace  take  : 
Eid  me  of  my  sin  and  grief. 
For  thy  love  and  mercy's  sake  ; 
Set  my  heart  at  liberty. 
Show  forth  all  thy  power  in  me. 

"  ile,  the  vilest  of  the  race. 
Most  unholy,  most  unclean  ; 
Me,  the  farthest  from  thy  face. 
Full  of  misery  and  sin  ; 
Me  with  arms  of  love  receive ; 
Me,  of  sinners  chief— forgive .'"  * 

We  propose — 

I.  To  mark  the  hopeful  sig7is  connected  with  this 
state  of  heart ; 

II.  To  give  certain  excellent  reasons  why  the  soul 
is  permitted  to  tarry  in  it ;  and 

III.  To  hold  forth  sundry  plain  directions  for 
behaviour  in  it,  and  escape  from  it. 

I.  It  is  om-  pleasant  duty  to  note  the  hopeful 
signs  which  gladden  ns  when  reviewing  this  state. 

*  C.  Wesley. 


108  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

1.  We  are  clieered  by  observing  that  the  longing 
of  the  spirit  is  now  entirely  after  Jesus — "  Oh  that 
I  knew  where  I  might  find  Him  /"  Once,  like  the 
many  whom  David  mentions,  the  inquiry  was, 
"  "Who  will  show  ns  any  good  V  A  question  indis- 
criminately addressed  to  any  and  all  within  hear- 
ing, demanding  with  eagerness  any  good  in  all  the 
world.  But  now  the  desires  have  found  a  chan- 
nel, they  are  no  longer  like  the  wide-spread  sheet 
of  water  covering  with  shallow  depth  a  tract  of 
marsh  teeming  with  malaria  and  pestilence,  but 
having  found  a  channel,  they  rush  forward  in  one 
deep  and  rapid  stream,  seeking  the  broad  ocean, 
where  sister  streams  have  long  since  mingled  their 
floods. 

Of  most  men  the  comjDlaint  is  true,  that  they 
will  *'bore  and  thread  the  spheres"  with  the 
*'  quick,  piercing  eye  "  of  the  astronomer,  or  "  cut 
through  the  working  wave  "  to  win  the  pearl,  or 
wear  themselves  away  in  smoky  toil,  while  as 
''  subtle  chymics  "  they  divest  and  strip  the  crea- 
ture naked,  till  they  find  the  callow  principles 
within  their  nests ;  in  fine,  will  do  anything  and 
everything  of  inferior  importance,  but  here  are  so 
negligent  that  it  is  truly  asked, 

"What  bath  not  man  sought  out  and  found, 
But  his  dear  God?"* 

When  the  heart  can  express  itself  in  the  words 

*  Herbert. 


JESUS    DESIRED.  109 

of  oiu*  text,  it  is  far  otherwise,  for  to  it  every  otlier 
subject  is  trivial,  and  every  otlier  object  vain. 
Then,  too,  there  was  the  continual  prayer  after 
pardon,  conversion,  washing,  instruction,  justifica- 
tion, adoption,  and  all  other  spiritual  blessings  ;  but 
now  the  soul  discerns  all  mercies  bound  up  in  one 
bundle  in  Jesus,  and  it  inquires  no  more  for  cassia, 
aloes,  and  camphire,  but  asks  for  Him  who  hath 
the  savour  of  all  good  ointments.  It  is  no  small 
mark  of  grace  when  we  can  esteem  Jesus  to  be  all 
we  want.  He  who  believeth  there  is  gold  in  the 
mine,  and  desires  to  obtain  it,  wdll  not  be  long  be- 
fore he  hath  it ;  and  he  who  knoweth  Jesus  to  be 
full  of  hid  treasures  of  mercy,  and  seeketh  him 
diligently,  shall  not  be  too  long  detained  from  a 
possession  of  him.  We  have  never  known  a  sinner 
anxious  for  Jesus — for  Jesus  only — who  did  not 
in  due  time  discover  Jesus  as  his  friend,  ''  waiting 
to  be  gracious." 

Our  own  experience  recalls  us  to  the  jDcriod  when 
we  panted  for  the  Lord,  even  for  Him,  our  only 
want.  Yain  to  us  were  the  mere  ordinances — vain 
as  bottles  scorched  by  the  simoom,  and  drained  of 
their  waters.  Yain  were  ceremonies — vain  as 
empty  wells  to  the  thirsty  Arab.  Yain  were  the 
delights  of  the  flesh — bitter  as  the  waters  of  Marah, 
which  even  the  parched  lips  of  Israel  refused  to 
drink.  Yain  were  the  directions  of  the  legal 
preacher — useless  as  the  howling  of  the  wind  to 


110  THE   SAINT   AXD   HIS   SATIOrK. 

the  benighted  wanderer.  Tain,  worse  than  vain, 
were  our  refuges  of  lies,  which  fell  about  our  ears 
like  Dagou's  temple  on  the  heads  of  the  worship- 
pers. One  only  hope  we  had,  one  sole  refuge  for 
our  misery.  Save  where  that  ark  lioated,  north, 
south,  east,  and  west,  were  one  broad  expanse  of 
troubled  waters  ;  save  where  that  star  burned,  the 
sky  was  one  vast  field  of  immitigated  darkness. 
Jesus,  Jesus,  Jesus  !  he  alone,  he  without  another, 
had  become  the  solitary  hiding-place  against  the 
storm.  As  the  wounded,  lying  on  the  battle-field, 
wifh  wounds  which,  like  fires,  consume  his  mois- 
ture, utters  only  one  monotonous  cry  of  thrilling 
importunity,  '*  Water,  water,  water !''  so  did  wo 
perpetually  send  our  prayer  to  heaven,  ''  Jesus, 
thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me  !  O  Jesus, 
come  to  me  !" 

"  Gracious  Lord  !  incline  thine  ear, 
My  requests  vouchsafe  to  hear ; 
Hear  my  never-ceasing  cry — 
Give  me  Christ,  or  else  I  die. 

*•  Wealth  and  honour  I  disdain, 
Earthly  comforts,  Lord,  are  vain ; 
These  can  never  satisfy, 
Give  me  Christ,  or  else  I  die. 

"  Lord,  deny  me  -what  thou  wilt, 
Only  ease  me  of  my  guilt ; 
Supphant  at  thy  feet  I  he, 
Give  me  Christ,  or  else  I  die. 


JESUS   DESIRED.  Ill 

"  All  unholy  and  unclean, 
I  am  nothing  else  but  sin ; 
On  thy  mercy  I  rely, 
Give  me  Christ,  or  else  I  die. 

"  Thou  dost  freely  save  the  lost, 
In  thy  grace  alaoe  I  trust ; 
"With  my  earnest  suit  comply, 
Give  me  Christ,  or  else  I  die. 

"  Thou  dost  promise  to  forgive 
All  who  in  thy  Son  believe  ; 
Lord,  I  know  thou  canst  not  lie. 
Give  me  Christ,  or  else  I  die. 

"  Father,  docs  thy  justice  frown  ? 
Let  me  shelter  in  thy  Son  ! 
Jesus,  to  thy  arms  I  fly. 
Come  and  save  me,  or  I  die." 

As  he  that  tantaliseth  thii-st  with  painted  rivers, 
as  he  that  embittereth  hunger's  pangs  by  the  offer- 
ing of  pictured  fruits,  so  were  they  who  spoke  of 
ought  else  save  Christ  and  him  crucified.  Our 
heart  ached  with  a  void  the  whole  earth  could  not 
fill ;  it  heaved  with  a  desire  as  in*esistible  as  the 
mountain  torrent,  and  as  little  able  to  be  restrained 
as  the  volcano  when  swelling  with  its  fiery  lava. 
Every  power,  every  passion,  every  wish,  moved 
onward  in  one  direction.  Like  to  an  army  press- 
ing upwards  through  a  breach,  did  our  united 
powers  rush  forward  to  enter  the  city  of  salvation 
by  one  door — that  door  Jesus  the  Lord.     Our  soul 


112  THE  SAINT   AND  HIS   SAVIOUR. 

could  spare  no  portion  of  itself  for  others ;  it 
pressed  tlie  whole  of  its  strength  into  the  service 
to  win  Christ,  and  to  be  found  in  him.  And  oh ! 
how  glorious  did  Jesus  then  seem !  what  would  we 
not  have  given  to  have  had  the  scantiest  morsel 
of  his  grace?  "A  kingdom  for  a  horse!"  cried 
the  routed  monarch.  "  A  kingdom  for  a  look — a 
world  for  a  smile — our  whole  selves  for  one  kind 
word!"  was  then  our  far  wiser  prayer.  Oh  what 
crushing  we  would  have  endured,  if  in  the  crowd 
we  could  have  approached  his  person?  what  tramp- 
ing would  we  have  borne,  if  our  finger  might  have 
touched  the  lowest  hem  of  his  garments  !  Bear  us 
witness,  ye  hours  of  ardent  desire,  what  horrors 
we  would  have  braved,  what  dangers  we  would 
have  encountered,  what  tortures  w^e  'would  have 
suffered,  for  one  brief  glimpse  of  Him  whom  our 
souls  desired  to  know!  We  could  have  trodden 
the  burning  marl  of  hell  at  his  bidding,  if  his  face 
had  but  been  in  prospect ;  and  as  for  Peter's  march 
upon  the  deep,  we  would  have  waded  to  our  very 
necks  without  a  fear,  if  it  were  but  with  half  a 
hope  of  a  welcome  from  the  Lord  on  the  other  side. 
He  had  no  robbers  then  to  share  his  throne,  no 
golden  calf  to  provoke  him  to  jealousy.  He  was 
the  monarch  reigning  without  a  rival,  l^o  part  of 
our  heart  was  then  shut  up  from  '  him ;  he  was 
welcomed  in  every  chamber  of  our  being.  There 
was  not  a  tablet  of  the  heart  which  was  not  en- 


JESUS  DESIRED.  113 

graven  witli  liis  name,  nor  a  string  of  our  harp 
wliicli  did  not  vibrate  with  his  praise,  nor  an  atom 
of  our  frame  which  would  not  have  leaped  for  very 
joy  at  the  distant  sound  of  his  footsteps.  Such  a 
condition  of  longing  alone  for  Jesus  is  so  healthy, 
that  many  advanced  believers  would  be  well-nigh 
content  to  retrace  their  steps,  if  they  might  once 
more  be  fully  occupied  with  that  desire  to  the 
exclusion  of  every  other. 

If  my  reader  be  fully  resolved  to  satisfy  his  hun- 
ger only  with  the  manna  which  cometh  down  from 
heaven — if  he  be  determined  to  slake  his  thirst  at 
no  stream  save  that  which  gusheth  from  the  Rock 
— if  he  will  accept  no  cordial  of  comfort  save  that 
which  is  compounded  of  the  herbs  of  Gethsemane 
— ^it  is,  it  must  be,  well  with  him.  If  none  but 
Jesus  is  thy  delight,  take  heart.  Augustine  cast 
away  TuUy's  works  because  there  was  no  Christ  in 
them ;  if  thou,  like  him,  dost  renounce  all  but 
Christ,  Christ  will  never  renounce  thee. 

2.  Another  pleasing  feature  of  this  case  is,  the 
intense  sincerity  and  ardent  earnestness  of  the  soul. 
Here  is  an  ^'Oh!" — a  deep,  impassioned,  burning 
ejaculation  of  desire.  It  is  no  fanciful  wish,  which 
a  little  difficulty  will  presently  overcome — it  is  no 
effervescence  of  excitement,  which  time  will  re- 
move ;  but  it  is  a  real  want,  fixed  in  the  core  of 
the  heart  so  firmly,  that  nothing  but  a  supply  of 
the  need  can  silence  the  importunate  petition.     It 


114:  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOTJE. 

is  not  the  passing  sigh,  which,  the  half-awakened 
heave  as  a  compliment  to  an  eloqnent  discourse  or 
a  stirring  tract, — it  is  not  the  transient  wish  of  the 
awe-struck  spectator  who  has  seen  a  sudden  death 
or  a  notable  judgment, — it  is  not  even  the  longing 
of  a  soul  in  love  for  a  time  with  the  moral  excel- 
lences of  Christ ;  but  it  is  the  prayer  of  one  who 
needs  must  pray,  who  cannot,  who  dare  not,  rest 
satisfied  until  he  find  Jesus — who  can  no  more 
restrain  his  groaning  than  the  light  clouds  can 
refuse  to  fly  before  the  violence  of  the  wind.  We 
have,  we  hope,  many  a  time  enjoyed  nearness  to 
the  throne  of  grace  in  prayer;  but  perhaps  never 
did  such  a  prayer  escape  our  lips  as  that  which  we 
offered  in  the  bitterness  of  our  spirit  when  seeking 
the  Saviour.  We  have  often  poured  out  our  hearts 
with  greater  freedom,  with  more  delight,  with 
stronger  faith,  with  more  eloquent  language ;  but 
never,  never  have  we  cried  with  more  vehemence 
of  unquenchable  desire,  or  more  burning  heat  of 
insatiable  longing.  There  was  then  no  sleepiness 
or  sluggishness  in  our  devotion ;  we  did  not  then 
need  the  whip  of  command  to  drive  us  to  labours 
of  prayer;  but  our  soul  could  not  be  content, 
unless  with  sighs  and  lamentations — with  strong 
crying  and  tears  it  gave  vent  to  our  bursting 
hearts.  Then  we  had  no  need  to  be  dragged  to 
our  closets  like  oxen  to  the  slaughter,  but  we  flew 
to  them  like  doves  to  their  windows ;  and  when 


JESUS   DESIKED.  115 

there  we  needed  no  pumping  up  of  desires,  but 
they  gushed  forth  like  a  fountain  of  waters,  although 
at  times  we  felt  we  could  scarcely,  find  them  a 
channel. 

Mr.  Philpot  justly  observes,  "  TVhen  the  Lord  is 
graciously  pleased  to  enable  the  soul  to  pour  out 
its  desires,  and  to  offer  up  its  fervent  breathings  at 
his  feet,  and  to  give  them  out  as  He  gives  them  in, 
then  to  call  upon  the  LordJs  no  point  of  duty, 
which  is  to  be  attended  to  as  a  duty ;  it  is  no  point 
of  legal  constraint,  which  must  be  done  because 
the  "Word  of  God  speaks  of  it ;  but  it  is  a  feeling, 
an  experience,  an  inward  work,  which  springs  from 
the  Lord's  hand,  and  which  flows  in  the  Lord's 
own  divine  channel.  Thus  when  the  Lord  is 
pleased  to  pour  out  this  '  Spirit  of  grace  and  of 
supplication,'  we  must  pray ;  but  we  do  not  pray 
hecause  we  must ;  we  pray  because  we  have  no 
better  occupation,  we  have  no  more  earnest  desire, 
we  have  no  more  powerful  feeling,  and  we  have  no 
more  invincible  and  irresistible  constraint.  The 
living  child  of  God  groans  and  sighs,  because  it  is 
the  expression  of  his  wants — because  it  is  a  lan- 
guage which  pours  forth  the  feelings  of  his  heart 
— because  groans  and  sighs  are  pressed  out  of  him 
by  the  heavy  weight  upon  him.  A  man  lying  in 
the  street  with  a  heavy  weight  upon  him  will  call 
for  help  ;  he  does  not  say,  '  It  is  my  duty  to  cry  to 
the  passers  by  for  help  ;'  he  cries  for  help  because 


116  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

he  wants  to  be  delivered.  A  man  with  a  broken 
leg  does  not  say,  '  It  is  my  duty  to  send  for  a  sur- 
geon ;'  he  wants  him  to  set  the  limb.  And  a  man 
in  a  raging  disease  does  not  saj,  '  It  is  my  duty  to 
send  for  a  physician ;'  he  wants  him  to  heal  his 
disease.  So  when  God  the  Holy  Spirit  works  in  a 
child  of  God,  he  prays,  not  out  of  a  sense  of  duty, 
but  from  a  burdened  heart ;  he  prays,  because  he 
cannot  but  pray ;  he  groans,  because  he  cannot 
but  groan ;  he  sighs,  because  he  must  sigh,  having 
an  inward  weight,  an  inward  burden,  an  inward 
experience,  in  which,  and  out  of  which,  he  is  com- 
pelled to  call  upon  the  Lord.""^ 

The  supplication  of  the  penitent  is  no  mechan- 
ical form  of  devotion,  followed  for  the  sake  of 
merit ;  it  is  the  natural  consequence  of  the  wound- 
ing of  Jesus  ;  and  its  offerer  knows  no  more  of 
merit  in  presenting  it  than  in  breathing,  or  any 
other  act  which  necessity  prevents  him  from  sus- 
pending. This  "  Oh!"  is  one  which  will  not  rise 
once  and  then  sink  for  ever  ;  it  is  not  the  explosion 
of  a  starry  rocket,  succeeded  by  darkness;  but 
it  will  be  an  incessant  ejaculation  of  the  inner  man. 
As  at  some  of  our  doors  every  hour  brings  a  post, 
so  at  the  door  of  mercy  every  hour  will  hear  a 
prayer  from  such  an  one  ;  in  fact,  the  soul  will  be 
full  of  prayer  even  when  it  is  not  in  the  exercise 

*  Sermon  on  Prayer  and  its  Answer. 


JESUS   DESIRED.  117 

itself — even  as  a  censer  may  be  filled  with  incense 
when  no  fire  is  burning  in  it.  Prayer  will  become 
a  state  of  the  soul,  perpetual  and  habitual,  needing 
nothing  but  opportunity  to  develop  itself  in  the 
outward  act  of  petitioning  at  the  feet  of  mercy.  It 
is  well  when  Mr.  Desires-awake  is  sent  to  court, 
for  he  will  surely  prevail.  Yiolence  taketh  the 
kingdom  by  force ;  hard  knocks  open  mercy's 
door ;  swift  running  overtakes  the  promise ;  hard 
wrestling  wins  the  blessing. 

When  the  child  crieth  well,  his  lungs  are  sound ; 
and  when  the  seeker  can  with  impetuous  earnest- 
ness implore  pardon,  he  is  most  surely  not  far  from 
health.  When  the  soil  of  our  garden  begins  to 
rise,  we  know  that  the  t)ulb  will  soon  send  forth 
its  shoot ;  so  when  the  heart  breaketh  for  the  longing 
which  it  hath  unto  God's  testimonies,  we  perceive 
that  Jesus  will  soon  appear  to  gladden  the  spirit. 

3.  We  are  rejoiced  to  observe  the  sense  of  igno- 
rance which  the  seelier  here  exj)resses — "  Oh  that  1 
hiew  where  I  might  find  him  !"  Men  are  by  nature 
very  wise  in  matters  of  religion,  and  in  their  own 
opinion  they  might  easily  set  up  for  Doctors  of 
Divinity  without  the  slightest  spiritual  enlighten- 
ment. It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  men  who  find 
every  science  in  the  world  to  be  too  much  for 
them,  even  when  they  have  but  waded  ankle-deep 
into  the  elements  thereof,  can  yet  afi'ect  to  be  mas- 
ters  of  theology,  and   competent,   yea,   infallible 


118  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

judges  in  matters  of  religion.  ISTothing  is  more 
easy  than  to  pretend  to  a  profound  acquaintance 
with  the  religion  of  the  cross,  and  even  to  maintain 
a  reputation  as  a  well-taught  and  highly  instructed 
disciple  of  the  Lamb ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  no- 
thing is  more  rare  than  really  to  be  taught  of  God, 
and  illuminated  by  the  Spirit;  and  yet  without 
till  the  religion  of  Jesus  never  can  be  really  under- 
stood. ISTatural  men  will  array  themselves  in 
robes  of  learning,  ascend  the  chair  of  profession, 
and  thence  teach  to  others  doctrines  with  which 
they  fancy  themselves  to  be  thoroughly  conversant ; 
and  if  a  word  were  hinted  of  their  deficiency  in 
knowledge,  and  their  inherent  inability  to  discern 
spiritual  things,  how  wrathful  would  they  become, 
how  fiercely  would  they  denounce  the  bigotry  of 
such  an  assertion,  and  how  furiously  would  they 
condemn  the  cant  and  fanaticism  which  they  con- 
ceive to  be  the  origin  of  so  humiliating  a  doctrine ! 
To  be  as  little  children  and  bend  their  necks  to 
the  yoke  of  Jesus,  the  Master,  is  quite  out  of  the 
question  with  the  men  of  this  generation,  who  love 
to  philosophise  the  Word,  and  give  what  they  call 
"  intellectual "  views  of  the  Gospel.  How  little 
do  they  suspect  that,  professing  themselves  to  be 
wise,  they  have  become  fools !  How  little  do  they 
imagine  that  their  grand  theories  and  learned  essays 
are  but  methods  of  the  madness  of  folly,  and,  like 
paintings  on  the  windows  of  their  understanding. 


JESUS   DESIRED.  119 

assist  to  shut  out  the  light  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Self-conceit  in  men  who  are  destitute  of  heavenly 
light,  unconsciously  to  them  doth  exercise  itself 
on  that  subject  upon  which  their  ignorance  is  of 
necessity  the  greatest.  They  will  acknowledge 
that  when  they  have  studied  astronomy,  its  subli- 
mities are  beyond  them;  they  will  not  arrogate 
to  themselves  a  lordship  of  the  entire  regions  of  any 
one  kingdom  of  knowledge ;  but  here,  in  theology, 
they  feel  themselves  abundantly  qualified,  if  they 
have  some  readiness  in  the  original  languages,  and 
have  visited  the  schools  of  the  universities ;  where- 
as a  man  might  with  as  much  justice  style  himself 
professor  of  botany,  because  he  knows  the  scientific 
names  of  the  classes  and  orders,  although  he  has 
never  seen  one  of  the  fiowers  thus  named  and  ar- 
ranged— for  what  can  education  teach  of  theology 
but  names  and  theories?  Experience  alone  can 
bring  the  things  themselves  before  our  eyes,  and 
in  the  light  of  Jesus  can  we  alone  discern  them. 
We  are  pleased,  therefore,  to  discover  in  the  utter- 
ance of  the  awakened  soul  a  confession  of  igno- 
rance. The  man  inquires  "  Where  he  can  find  the 
Lord  ?"  He  is  self-confident  no  longer,  but  is  wil- 
ling to  ask  his  way  to  heaven ;  he  is  prepared  to 
go  to  the  very  dame-school  of  piety,  and  learn  the 
alphabet  of  godliness.  He  may  be  distinguished 
for  his  learning,  but  now  a  little  child  may  lead 
him  ;  his  titles,  his  gown,  his  diploma,  his  dignity, 


120  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUR. 

all  these  are  laid  aside,  and  down  he  sits  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus  to  begin  again,  or  rather  to  commence 
learning  what  he  never  knew  before. 

Conviction  of  ignorance  is  the  doorstep  of  the 
temple  of  wisdom.  "  It  is  said  in  the  Creed  that 
Christ  descended  into  hell :  descendit  ut  ascendat 
— He  took  his  rising  from  the  lowest  place  to  ascend 
into  the  highest ;  and  herein  Christ  readeth  a  good 
lecture  unto  us — he  teach eth  us  that  humility  is  the 
way  to  glory."  ^  Seneca  remarked,  I  suppose  that 
many  might  have  attained  to  wisdom,  had  they  not 
thought  that  had  they  already  attained  it.f  We 
must  first  be  emptied  of  every  particle  of  fleshly  wis- 
dom,  ere  we  can  say  that  "  Christ  is  made  unto  us 
wisdom."  We  must  know  our  folly,  and  confess  it, 
before  we  can  be  accepted  as  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 
It  is  marvellous  how  soon  he  doth  unfrock  us  of  our 
grand  apparel,  and  how  easily  our  wisdom  disap- 
pears like  a  bubble  vanishing  in  air.  We  were 
never  greater  fools  than  when  our  wisdom  was  the 
greatest  in  our  own  esteem;  but  as  soon  as  real 
wisdom  came,  straightway  our  opinion  of  ourselves 
fell  from  the  clouds  to  the  bottom  of  the  moun- 
tains. We  were  no  divines  or  doctors  when  we 
were  under  the  convincing  hand  of  the  Spirit ;  we 
were  far  more  like  babes  for  ignorance,  and  we  felt 
ourselves  to  be  very  beasts  for  folly.:}:     Like  men 

*  Ephr.  Udall's  Sermons,     f  Seneca  de  Ira,  lib,  iii.  c.  36. 
X  Ps.  Ixxiii.  22. 


JESUS    DESIRED.  121 

lost  in  a  dark  wood,  we  could  not  find  our  paths  ; 
the  roads  which  were  once  apparent  enough,  were 
then  hedged  up  with  thorns  ;  and  the  very  entrance 
to  the  narrow  way  had  to  be  pointed  out  by  Evan- 
gelist,""^'  and  marked  by  a  light.  ^N'evertheless, 
blessed  is  he  who  desireth  to  learn  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  for  he  shall  find  it  the  beginning  of  wisdom. 
]N"or,  in  the  present  case,  hath  a  sense  of  ignor- 
ance driven  the  man  to  pry  into  secrets  too  deep 
for  human  wisdom.  He  doth  not  exclaim,  "  Oh 
that  I  knew  where  sin  took  its  origin,  or  how  pre- 
destination meeteth  the  agency  of  man  !"  No  ;  he 
seeks  only  this,  "  Oh  that  I  knew  where  I  might 
find  HiinP^  Many  are  puzzling  themselves  about 
abstract  questions  while  their  eternal  interests  are 
in  imminent  j)eril ;  such  men  are  like  the  man  who 
counted  the  stars,  but  taking  no  heed  to  his  feet, 
fell  into  a  pit  and  perished.  "  We  may  sooner 
think  to  span  the  sun,  or  grasp  a  star,  or  see  a  gnat 
swallow  a  leviathan,  than  fully  understand  the  de- 
bates of  eternity Too  great  an  inquisitiveness 

beyond  our  line  is  as  much  a  provoking  arrogance 
as  a  blockish  negligence  of  what  is  revealed,  is  a 
slighting  ingratitude."  f  The  quickened  spirit  dis- 
dains to  pluck  the  wild  fiowers  of  carnal  know- 
ledge ;  he  is  not  ambitious  to  reach  the  tempting 
beauties  blooming  on  the  edge  of  the  clifis  whicli 

*  Bunran's  Pilgrim.         f  Oharnock's  Divine  Attributes. 

6 


122  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

skirt  the  sea  of  the  iinrevealed ;  but  he  anxiously 
looks  around  for  the  rose  of  Sharon,  the  lily  of  the 
valley.  He  who  thus  studieth  only  to  know  Christ, 
shall  soon,  by  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
learn  enough  to  spell  out  his  own  salvation. 

4.  An  evidence  of  grace  is  presented  to  us  by 
the  ahsence  of  all  choice  as  to  where  the  Samour  is 
discovered.  "  Oh  that  I  knew  w^here  I  might  find 
him !"  Here  is  no  stipulation ;  Jesus  is  wanted, 
and  let  him  be  wherever  he  may,  the  soul  is  pre- 
pared to  go  after  him.  We,  when  in  this  state  of 
experience,  knew  little  of  sect  or  denomination. 
Before  our  conviction  w^e  could  fight  for  names, 
like  mercenaries  for  other  men's  countries.  The 
mottoes  of  our  party  were  higher  in  our  esteem 
than  the  golden  rules  of  Christianity ;  and  we 
should  have  been  by  no  means  grieved  at  the  con- 
flagration of  every  other  section  of  professors,  if  our 
own  might  have  been  elevated  on  the  ruins. 
Every  rubric  and  form,  every  custom  and  antiquity, 
we  would  have  stained  with  our  blood,  if  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  preserve  them  ;  and  mightily  did 
we  shout  concerning  our  own  Churcli,  "  Great  is 
Diana  of  the  Ephesians."  l^ot  a  nail  in  the 
church-door  but  we  reverenced  it — not  a  vestment 
which  we  did  not  admire ;  or,  if  we  loved  not 
pomp,  simplicities  were  magnified  into  our  very 
household  gods.  We  hated  popery,  but  were  essen- 
tially papistical ;  for  we  could  have  joined   His 


JESUS    DESIRED.  123 

Unlioliness  in  all  his  anatliemas,  if  he  would  but 
have  hurled  them  against  those  who  differed  from 
us.  We  too  did,  in  our  own  fashion,  curse  by  bell, 
book,  and  candle,  all  who  were  not  of  our  faith  and 
order ;  and  could  scarcely  think  it  possible  that 
many  attained  salvation  beyond  the  pale  of  our 
Church,  or  that  Jesus  deigned  to  give  them  so 
much  as  a  transient  visit. 

How  changed  we  were  when,  by  Divine  grace,  the 
sectarianism  of  our  ungodliness  did  hide  its  head 
for  shame  !  We  then  thouojht  that  we  would  2:0 
among  Methodists,  Baptists,  Episcopalians,  Lide- 
pendents,  Presbyterians,  or  anywhere,  so  that  we 
could  but  find  a  Redeemer  for  our  guilty  souls.  It 
is  more  than  probable  that  we  found  it  necessary 
to  shift  our  quarters,  and  attend  the  very  house 
which  we  lately  detested,  to  bow  with  the  people 
whom  once  we  held  in  abhorrence.  All  the  fan- 
cies of  our  former  lives  dissolved  before  the  heat 
of  our  desire.  The  huntsman  loveth  the  mountain 
which  shadeth  his  valley  more  than  all  its  giant 
brothers  ;  but  nevertheless,  when  in  hot  pursuit  of 
the  chamois,  he  leapeth  from  crag  to  crag,  and 
asks  not  what  is  the  name  of  the  rock  upon  which 
the  object  of  his  chase  hath  bounded ;  so  the  sin- 
ner, ardently  following  after  the  Saviour,  will  pur- 
sue him  whithersoever  he  goeth. 

Nor  at  such  seasons  did  we  regard  the  respecta- 
bility of  the  denomination  or  the  grandeur  of  the 


124:  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

structure  in  which  God  was  adored.  The  chapel 
in  the  dark  alley,  the  despised  and  deserted  church, 
the  disreputable  school-room,  were  now  no  longer 
noticed  with  a  sneer;  but  whether  under  the 
vaulted  sky  of  heaven,  the  cobwebbed  thatch  of  a 
barn,  the  dingy  ceiling  of  a  viHage  station,  or  the 
magnificent  roof  of  the  temple  of  the  great  assem- 
bly, we  only  sought  one  thing,  and  that  one  thing 
found,  all  places  were  on  a  level.  'No  praising  a 
church  for  its  architectural  beauty — no  despising  a 
meeting-house  for  its  aboriginal  ugliness ;  both 
buildings  were  valued  not  by  their  figure,  but  by 
their  contents ;  and  where  Jesus  was  more  easily 
to  be  found,  there  did  we  make  our  haunt.  It  is 
true  our  servants,  our  ploughmen,  and  our  paupers, 
sat  with  us  to  hear  the  same  word  ;  but  we  did  not 
observe  the  difference,  though  once,  perhaps,  we 
might  have  looked  aghast  if  any  but  my  lady  in 
satin,  or  my  lord  in  superfine  broadcloth,  had  ven- 
tured into  a  pew  within  the  range  of  our  breath. 
To  us  the  company  mattered  not,  so  long  as  the 
Master  of  the  Feast  would  but  reveal  himself.  The 
place  might  be  unconsecrated,  the  minister  unor- 
dained,  the  clerk  uneducated,  the  sect  despicable, 
and  the  service  unpretending,  but  if  Jesus  did  but 
show  his  face  there  it  was  all  we  wished  for. 
There  is  no  authentic  account  of  the  dimensions, 
the  fashion,  or  furniture,  of  the  room  in  which 
Jesus    suddenly    appeared    and    pronounced    his 


JESUS   DESIEED.  125 

''  peacG  be  nnto  jou."  JSTor  do  we  tliink  that  any 
one  of  the  assembly  even  so  much  as  thought 
thereof  while  their  Lord  was  present.  It  is  well 
when  we  are  content  to  go  whithersoever  the 
Lamb  doth  lead.  Doubtless  the  catacombs  of 
Eome,  the  glens  of  Scotland,  and  the  conventicles 
of  England,  have  been  more  frequented  by  the 
King  of  kings  than  cathedrals  or  chapels-royal : 
therefore  do  the  go.dly  count  it  little  where  they 
worship,  looking  only  for  His  presence  which 
maketli  a  hovel  glorious,  and  deprecating  his  ab- 
sence, which  makes  even  a  temple  desolate.  We 
would  in  our  anxious  mood  have  followed  Jesus  in 
the  cave,  the  mountain,  the  ravine,  or  the  cata- 
comb, so  that  we  might  but  have  been  within  the 
circle  of  his  influence. 

Nor  would  we  have  blushed  to  have  sought  Je- 
sus among  his  kinsfolk  and  acquaintance — the  sick, 
the  poor,  the  uneducated,  but  yet  sincere  children 
of  light.  How  did  we  then  delight  to  sit  in  that 
■upper  room  where  stars  looked  between  the  tiles, 
and  hear  the  heavenly  conversation  which,  from  a 
miserable  pallet  surrounded  by  ragged  hangings, 
an  enfeebled  saint  of  the  Lord  did  hold  with  ns  ! 
Like  divers,  we  valued  the  pearl,  even  though  the 
shell  might  be  a  broken  one,  nor  did  we  care  where 
we  went  to  win  it.  When  those  creaking  stairs 
trembled  beneath  our  weight,  when  that  bottomless 
chair  afforded  us  an  uneasy  rest,  and  when  the  heat 


126  THE  SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

and  effluvia  of  that  sick-room  drove- our  companion 
away,  did  Ave  not  feel  more  than  doubly  repaid 
v^hile  that  friend  of  Jesus  told  us  of  all  his  love,  his 
faithfulness  and  grace?     It  is  frequently  the  case 
that  the  most  despised  servants  of  the   Lord  are 
made  the  chosen  instruments  of  comforting  dis- 
tressed souls,  and  buildiDg  them  up  in  the  faith. 
The  writer  confesses  his  eternal  obligations  to  an 
old  cook,  who  was  despised  as  an  Antinomian,  but 
who  in  her  kitchen  taught  him  many  of  the  deep 
things  of  God,  and  removed  many  a  doubt  fi-om  his 
youthful  mind.      Even  eminent  men  have  been  in- 
debted to  humble  individuals  for  their  deliverance : 
take,  for  instance,  Paul,  and  his  comforter,  Ana- 
nias ;  and  in  our  own  day,  Bunyan,  instructed  by 
the  holy  women  at  Bedford.   True  seekers  will  hunt 
everywhere  for  Jesus,  and  will  not  be  too  proud  to 
learn  from  beggars  or  little    children.     "VYe  take 
gold  from  dark  mines  or  muddy  streams  ;  it  were 
foolish  to  refuse  instruction  in  salvation  from  the 
most  unlettered  or  uncouth.     Let  us  be  really  in 
earnest  after  Christ,  then  circumstance  and  place 
will  be  lightly  esteemed. 

We  remark  also  that  there  is  no  condition  for 
distance  in  tliis  question,  it  is  only  "  where ;"  and 
though  it  be  a  thousand  miles  away,  the  man  has 
his  feet  in  readiness  for  the  journey.  Desire  o'er- 
leapeth  space  ;  leagues  to  it  are  inches,  and  oceans 
narrow  into  straits.     Where,  at  one  time,  a  mile 


JESUS   DESIRED.  127 

would  tire  the  body,  a  long  journey  after  tlie  Word 
is  counted  as  nothing :  yea,  to  stand  in  the  house 
of  God  for  hours  during  service  is  reckoned  a  plea- 
sure and  not  a  hardship.  The  Hindoo  devotee,  to 
find  a  hopeless  salvation,  will  roll  himself  along  for 
hundreds  of  miles :  it  seems  hut  natural  that  we, 
when  searching  for  eternal  life,  should  count  all 
things  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge 
of  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  Mary  Magdalene  only 
needed  to  know  where  they  had  laid  her  Lord,  and 
her  resolve  was,  "  I  will  take  him  away;"  for  surely, 
she  thought,  her  bodily  strength  could  never  fail 
under  such  a  burden,  and  she  measured  the  power 
of  her  body  by  the  might  of  her  love.  So  do  desti- 
tute sinners,  who  need  a  Saviour,  altogether  laugh 
at  hazards  or  hardships  which  may  intervene. 
Come  mountain  or  valley,  rapid  or  rock,  whirlpool 
or  tempest,  desire  hath  girded  the  traveller  with  an 
omnipotence  of  heart,  and  a  world  of  dangers  is 
trodden  beneath  the  feet,  with  the  shout  of  De- 
borah— "  O  my  soul,  thou  hast  trodden  down 
strength." 

"1  doubt  not,"  said  Rutherford  to  Lady  Ken- 
mure,  "  that  if  hell  were  betwixt  you  and  Christ, 
as  a  river  which  ye  behoved  to  cross  ere  ye  could 
come  at  him,  but  ye  would  willingly  put  in  your 
foot,  and  make  through  to  be  at  him,  upon  hope 
that  he  would  come  in  himself  into  the  deepest 
of  the  river,  and  lend  you  his  hand."     Doubtless 


128  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SA.VIOUR. 

it  is  SO  with  tliee,  reader,  if  tliou  art  as  we  have 
described. 

We  think  also  we  may  be  allowed  to  add,  that 
the  earnest  inquirer  does  not  object  to  any  position 
of  humiliation  which  may  be  required  of  him  ere 
he  can  "  see  Jesus."  It  is  only  demanded  "  where  ?" 
and  though  the  reply  maybe,  "There,  in  yonder 
cell  of  penitence,  on  your  bended  knees,  stripped 
of  all  your  glories,  shall  you  alone  behold  him,"  no 
delay  will  reveal  the  lurking  pride ;  but  an  instan- 
taneous and  joyful  obedience  will  manifest  that  the 
one  absorbing  passion  has  entirel}^  swallowed  up  all 
ideas  of  dignity,  honour,  and  pride. 

Like  Benhadad,  when  in  danger,  hearing  that  the 
king  of  Israel  is  a  merciful  king,  we  will  consent  to 
put  sackcloth  on  our  loins,  and  ropes  upon  our 
necks,  and  go  in  unto  him,  hoping  for  some  words 
of  favour.  We  make  a  surrender  at  discretion, 
without  reserve  of  the  arms  of  our  sins  or  the  bag- 
gage of  our  pleasures.  He  that  is  down  so  low  as 
to  be  wholly  submissive,  will  find  that  even  justice 
will  not  smite  him.  Mercy  always  flieth  near  the 
ground.  The  flower  of  grace  groweth  in  the  dells 
of  humility.  The  stars  of  love  shine  in  the  night 
of  our  self-despair.  If  truth  lie  not  in  a  well,  cer- 
tainly mercy  doth.  The  hand  of  justice  spares  the 
sinner  who  has  thrown  away  both  the  sword  of  re- 
bellion and  the  plumes  of  his  pride.  If  we  will  do 
and  be  anything  or  everything,  so  that  we  may  but 


JESUS   DESIEED.  129 

win  Christ,  we  shall  soon  find  him  to  be  everything 
to  us.  There  is  no  more  hopeful  sign  of  coming 
grcace  than  an  emptiness  of  our  own  selfish  terms 
and  conditions,  for  he  resisteth  the  proud,  but  giv- 
eth  grace  unto  the  lowly. 

Thus  have  we  tried  to  sum  uj)  all  the  promises 
which  this  state  aflbrds,  but  cheering  tliough  they 
be,  we  fear  few  will  accept  the  comfort  they  afford ; 
for,  "  as  he  that  poureth  vinegar  upon  nitre,  so  is 
he  that  singeth  songs  to  a  sad  heart ;  and  it  is  gen- 
erally in  vain  to  condole  a  patient  under  an  opera- 
tion by  any  reflections  on  the  benefit  thereof,  see- 
ing that  while  the  pain  lasteth  he  will  still  cry  out 
and  groan.  ^Nevertheless,  w^e  who  have  escaped 
cannot  refrain  from  singing  without  the  walls  of 
the  dungeon,  in  the  hope  that  some  within  may 
hear  and  take  heart.  Let  us  say  to  every  mourner 
in  Zion,  Be  of  good  cheer ;  for  "  He  who  walked  in 
the  garden,  and  made  a  noise  that  made  Adam 
hear  his  voice,  will  also  at  some  time  walk  in  your 
soul,  and  make  you  hear  a  more  sweet  word,  yet 
ye  will  not  always  hear  the  noise  and  din  of  his 
feet  when  lie  walketh."^  Ephraim  is  bemoaning 
and  mourning  f  "  when  he  thinketh  God  is  far  off", 
and  heareth  not ;  and  yet  God  is  like  the  bride- 
groom, standing  only  behind  a  thin  wall, if  and  lay- 

*  Rutherford.  f  Jer.  xxxi.  18. 

X  Cant.  ii.  9. 

6* 


\^ 


130  THE    SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

ing  to  liis  ear,  for  lie  saitli  himself,  I  have  Tsnrelj 
heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  himself."  ""  I  will  surely 
have  mercy  npon  him,  saitli  the  Lord." 

Be  thou  of  good  cheer,  O  seeker;  go  on,  for  hope 
prophesies  success,  and  the  signs  of  thy  case  prog- 
nosticate a  haj)py  deliverance.  None  who  are  like 
thee  have  failed  at  last :  persevere  and  be  saved. 

II.  "We  are  now  arrived  at  our  second  division, 
wherein  we  proposed  to  consider  the  reasons  of  this 
tarr^jing.  May  our  Divine  Illuminator  enlighten 
us  while  w^e  write  ! 

We  believe  that  many  are  delayed  because  they 
seek  not  rightly  or  because  they  seek  not  ea- 
gerly, with  these  we  have  just  now  nothing 
to  do ;  we  are  dealing  w^itli  the  genuine  con- 
vert, the  sincere  searcher,  who  yet  cannot  find 
his  Lord.  To  the  exercised  mind  no  question  is 
more  hard  to  answer  than  this,  "  Why  doth  he  not 
hear?"  but  wdien  delivered  from  our  distress, 
nothing  is  more  full  of  joy  than  tlie  rich  discovery 
that  "  he  hath  done  all  thino:s  w^ell." 

If  our  reader  be  now  in  sorrow,  let  him  believe 
what  he  cannot  see,  and  receive  the  testimony  of 
others  who  now  bear  witness  that  "  God's  way  is  in 
the  sea,  and  his  path  in  the  deep  waters." 

1.  We  now  perceive  that  it  afforded  pleasure  to 
Jesics  to  view  the  labours  of  our  faith  in  pursuit  after 
him.     Jesus  doth  often  hide  his  face  from  his  chil- 


JESUS    DESIRED.  131 

dren,  that  he  may  hear  the  sweet  music  of  their 
cry.  "When  the  woman  of  Canaan  came  before  our 
Lord,  he  answered  her  not  a  word;  and  w^hen  her 
importunity  did  somewhat  prevail,  a  harsh  sentence 
was  all  she  obtained.  Yet  the  blessed  Jesus  was 
not  angry  with  her,  but  was  pleased  to  behold  her 
fiiith  struggling  amid  the  waves  of  his  seeming  neg- 
lect, and  finding  anchorage  even  on  that  hard  word 
wdiicli  appeared  like  a  rock  ready  to  wreck  her 
hopes.  He  was  so  charmed  with  her  holy  daring 
and  heavenly  resolution,  that  he  detained  her  for  a 
time  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  the  lovely  spectacle. 
The  woman  had  faith  in  Christ,  and  Jesus  would  let 
all  men  see  what  faith  can  do  in  honour  of  its  Lord. 
Great  kings  have  among  their  attendants  certain 
well-trained  artistes  who  play  before  them,  while 
they,  sitting  with  their  court,  behold  their  feats 
with  pleasure.  JSTow,  Faith  is  the  king's  cham- 
pion, whom  he  delights  to  put  upon  labom-s  of  the 
most  herculean  kind.  Faith  hath,  when  bidden  by 
its  Master,  stopped  the  sun  and  chained  the  moon  ; 
it  hath  dried  the  sea  and  divided  rivers ;  it  hath 
dashed  bulwarks  to  the  ground ;  quenched  the  vio- 
lence of  fire  ;  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions ;  turned 
to  flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens,  and  robbed  death 
of  its  prey.  Importunity  is  the  king's  running 
footman  ;  he  hath  been  known  to  run  whole  months 
together  without  losing  his  breath,  and  over  moun- 
tains he  leaps  with  the  speed  of  Asahel ;  therefore 


132  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOIJE. 

dotli  the  Lord  at  times  try  his  endurance,  for  he  loveth 
to  see  what  his  own  children  can  perform.  Prayer^ 
also,  is  one  of  the  royal  musicians  ;  and  although 
many  do  prefer  his  brother,  who  is  called  Praise, 
yet  this  one  hath  ever  had  an  eqnal  share  of  the 
king's  favour.  His  lute  playeth  so  sweetly  that  the 
heavens  have  smiled  with  sunshine  for  the  space  of 
three  years  and  six  months  *  at  the  sound  thereof ; 
and  when  again  the  melodious  notes  were  heard, 
the  same  skies  did  weep  for  joy,  and  rain  descended 
on  the  earth.  Prayer  hath  made  God's  axe  of  ven- 
geance stay  in  mid  air,  although  it  was  hastening  to 
fell  the  cumber-ground  ;  and  his  sword  hath  been 
lulled  to  sleep  in  its  scabbard  by  the  soft  sonnets  of 
prayer,  when  it  sung  of  pardons  bought  with  blood. 
Therefore,  because  Jesus  delighteth  in  these  cour- 
tiers whom  he  hath  chosen,  he  doth  ever  find  "them 
work  to  do,  whereby  they  may  minister  unto  his 
good  pleasure.  Surely  thou  who  walkest  in  dark- 
ness, and  seest  no  light,  thou  mayst  be  well  content 
to  grope  thy  way  for  a  while,  if  it  be  true  that  this 
midnight  journey  is  but  one  of  the  feats  of  faith 
which  God  is  pleased  that  thou  shouldst  perform. 
Go  on  then  in  confidence. 

2.  "We  may  sometimes  regard  this  delay  as  an 
exhibition  of  Divine  sovereignty.  God  is  not  bound 
to  persons  nor  to  time ;  as  he  giveth  to  whom  he 

*  James  v.  lY,  18. 


JESUS   DESIRED.  133 

pleaseth,  so  clotli  lie  bestow  liis  favours  in  his  own 
time  and  manner.  Yery  frequently  the  prayer 
and  the  answer  attend  each  other,  as  the  echo  doth 
the  speaker's  voice.  Usually  it  is,  "Before  they 
call  I  will  answer,  and  while  they  are  yet  speaking 
I  will  hear."  But  Divine  prerogative  must  be 
manifested  and  maintained,  and  therefore  he  doth 
sometimes  give  temporary  denials  or  protracted 
delays.  Through  some  of  our  squares  the  right  of 
way  is  private,  and  in  order  to  maintain  the  right, 
although  the  road  is  usually  open,  yet  there 
are  gates  which  at  times  are  closed  for  a  season, 
lest  any  should  imagine  that  they  could  demand 
a  passage ;  so,  although  mercy  be  free  and  speedy, 
yet  it  is  not  always  immediate,  that  men  may 
know  that  the  giver  has  a  right  to  refuse.  Jesus 
is  no  paid  physician,  who  is  boand  to  give  us  his 
calls ;  therefore  he  will  sometimes  step  in  late  in 
the  day,  that  we  may  remember  he  is  not  our 
debtor.  Oh  !  our  hearts  loathe  the  pride  which 
bows  not  to  Divine  sovereignty,  but  arrogantly 
declares  God  to  be  under  obligations  to  his  crea- 
tures. Those  who  are  full  of  this  satanic  spirit  will 
not  assert  this  in  plain  language,  but  while  they 
cavil  at  election,  talking  with  impious  breath  about 
"  partiality,"  "  injustice,"  "  respect  of  persons," 
and  such  like  things,  they  too  plainly  show  that 
their  old  nature  is  yet  unhumbled  by  Divine  grace. 
"We  are  sure  of  this,  that   no    convinced  sinner. 


134  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

when  under  a  sense  of  his  ill-desert,  will  ever  dis- 
pute the  justice  of  God  in  damning  him,  or  quarrel 
with  the  distinguishing  grace  which  Heaven  givetli 
to  one  and  not  to  another.  If  such  a  person  has 
not  yet  been  able  to  subscribe  to  the  doctrine  of 
sovereign,  discriminatiug,  electing  grace,  we  won- 
der not  that  he  hath  found  no  peace ;  for  verily 
Jesus  will  have  him  know  that  his  bounties  are  in 
his  own  hand,  and  that  none  can  lay  any  claim  to 
them.  -Herbert,  in  his  Country  Parson^  says, 
"  He  gives  no  set  pension  unto  any,  for  then,  in 
time,  it  will  lose  the  name  of  charity  with  the 
poor,  and  they  will  reckon  upon  it,  as  on  a  debt ;" 
truly  it  would  be  even  so  with  the  loving  kindnesses 
of  the  Lord,  if  they  were  always  bestowed  where 
man  at  first  desires  them.  There  is  nothing  over 
which  the  Lord  is  more  jealous  than  his  crown — 
his  sovereignty — his  right  to  do  as  he  will  with  his 
own.  How  grateful  should  we  be  that  he  uses 
such  lenient  and  gentle  means  to  preserve  his  dig- 
nity ;  and  that  while  he  might,  if  he  pleased,  block 
u]3  the  gates  of  salvation  for  ever,  he  doth  only  for 
a  moment  cause  them  to  be  closed,  that  we  may 
sing  the  more  loudly  when  we  obtain  an  entrance 
through  them. 

3.  A  ministry  devoid  of  gospel  grace  is  a  fre- 
quent cause  of  long  delay  in  finding  the  Saviour. 
Some  of  us  in  the  days  of  our  sorrow  for  sin  were 
compelled  by  circumstances  to  sit  under  a  legal 


JESUS   DESIRED.  135 

preacher  who  did  but  increase  our  pain,  and  aggra- 
vate our  woe.     Destitute  of  all  savour  and  unction, 
but  most  of  all  w^anting  in  a  clear  view  of  Jesus 
the  Mediator,  the  sermons  we  heard  were  wells 
without  water,  and  clouds  without  rain.     Elegant 
in  diction,  admirable  in  style,  and  faultless  in  com- 
position, they  fell  on  our  ears  even  as  the  beautiful 
crystals  of  snow  fall  upon  the  surface  of  the  brook, 
and  only  tend  to  sw^ell  its  floods.     Good  moralit}^, 
consistent  practice,  upright  dealing,  amiable   be- 
haviour, gentle  carriage,  and  modest  deportment, 
were  the  everyday  themes  of  the  pulpit ;  but  alas  ! 
they  were  of  as  little  service  to  us  as  instructions 
to  dance  w^ould  be  to  a  man  who  has  lost  both  his 
.iSgs.     "We   have   often    been    reminded   by  such 
(  preachers,  of  the  doctor  who  told  a  poor  penniless 
\  widow  that  her  sick  son  could  easily  be  cured  if 
/  she  would  give  him  the  best  wine,  and  remove  him 
\  at    once    to    Baden-Baden — the     poor    creature's 
I  fingers  staring  all  the  while  through  the  tips  of  her 
w^orn-out  gloves,  as  if  they  wished  to  see  the  man 
wdio  gave  advice  so  profoundly  impracticable. 
"~  Far  be  it  from  us  to  condemn  the  preaching  of 
morality  hj  such  men,  for  it  is  doubtless  all  they 
can  preach,  and  their  intentions  being  good,  it  is 
probable  they  may  sometimes  be  of  service  in  re- 
straining the  community  from  acts  of  disorder ;  but 
we  do  deny  the  right  of  many  to  call  themselves 
Christian  ministers,  while  they  constantly  and  sys- 


136  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

tematicallj  neglect  to  declare  the  truths  which  lie 
at  the  very  foundation  of  the  Gospel.  A  respected 
bishop  of  the  Episcopalian  denomination,*  in  ad- 
dressing the  clergy  of  the  last  century,  said,  "  We 
have  long  been  attempting  to  reform  the  nation  by 
moral  preaching.  With  what  effect  ?  None.  On 
the  contrary,  we  have  dexterously  preached  the 
people  into  downright  infidelity.  We  must  change 
our  voice  ;  we  must  preach  Christ  and  hjm  cruci- 
fied ;  nothing  but  the  Gospel  is  the  power  of  God 
nnto  salvation."  We  fear  that  in  some  measure 
this  is  the  case  even  now — would  that  we  dared  to 
hoj)e  otherwise  !  Let  such  of  us  as  are  engaged  in 
the  work  of  the  ministry  take  heed  to  ourselves, 
and  to  our  doctrine,  that  we  cause  no  needless  pain, 
and  retard  no  man's  progress  to  a  Saviour  ;  and  let 
our  reader  look  to  his  own  soul's  salvation,  and 
select  his  pastor,  not  for  his  eloquence,  learning, 
amiability,  or  popularity,  but  for  his  clear  and  con- 
stant testimony  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  The  wit- 
ness of  the  pulpit  must  be  incessantly  evangelical, 
nor  is  a  single  exception  to  be  allowed.  A  vener- 
able divine  justly  writes,  "Faithful  preachers  never 
preach  mere  philosophy,  nor  mere  metaphysics,  nor 
mere  morality. "f  How  many  poor  souls  may  now 
be  in  bondage  by  your  lifeless  j)reaching,  O  ye  who 
love  anything  better  than  the  simple  Gospel!  What 

*  Bishop  Lavington.  f  Emmons. 


JESUS    DESIRED.  137 

are  ye  but  polished  bolts  on  the  dungeon- door  of 
the  distressed,  or  well-dressed  halberdiers,  affright- 
ing men  from  the  palace  of  mercy  ?  Ah  !  it  will  be 
well  for  sume  if  they  shall  be  able  to  wash  their 
hands  of  the  blood  of  souls,  for  verily  in  the  colls 
of  eternal  condemnation  there  are  heard  no  yells  of 
horror  more  appalling  than  the  shrieks  of  damned 
ministers.  Oh,  to  have  misled  men — to  have 
ruined  their  souls  for  ever ! 

Happy  suicide,'"  who  by  his  own  hand  escapes 
the  sound  of  the  curses  of  those  he  victimized ! 
happy  in  comparison  with  the  man  who  vv'ill  for 
ever  hear  the  accusing  voices  of  the  many  who  have 
sunk  to  perdition  through  the  rottenness  of  the 
doctrine  which  he  offered  them  for  their  support. 
Here  on  our  knees  we  fall,  and  pray  for  grace  that 
we  may  ever  hold  uj)  Jesus  to  the  sinner  ;  not  doc- 
trine without  Jesus,  which  is  as  the  pole  without 
the  brazen  serpent,  but  Jesus — a  whole  Jesus — to 
poor  lost  sinners.  We  a,re  sure  that  many  con- 
vinced souls  have  tarried  long  in  the  most  distress- 
ing condition,  simply  because,  by  reason  of  the 
poverty  of  their  spiritual  food,  their  weakness  was 
so  great  that  the  cry  of  Hezekiah  was  theirs — "  this 
day  is  a  day  of  trouble ;  for  the  children  are  come 
to  the  birth,  and  there  is  not  strength  to  bring 
forth. "f     May  our  glorified  Jesus  soon  come  into 

*  Mr.  Sadleir.  \  Isa.  xxxvii.  3. 


A 


138  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

liis  Cliurcli,  and  raise  up  shepherds  after  his  own 
heart,  who,  endowed  with  the  Holj  Spirit,  fall  of 
sympathy,  and  burning  with  love,  shall  visit  those 
who  are  out  of  the  way,  and  guide  the  wanderer 
to  the  fold.  Such  men  are  still  to  be  found.  O 
reader,  search  them  out,  sit  at  their  feet,  receive 
their  word,  and  be  not  disobedient  to  the  com- 
mands w^hich  they  utter  from  heaven. 

4.  Misapprehension  of  the  nature  of  salvation^ 
in  some  cases,  delays  the  happy  hour  of  Christ's 
appearance.  A  natural  tendency  to  legal  ideas 
dims  the  mind  to  the  perception  of  the  doctrine 
of  Jesus,  which  is  grace  and  truth.  A  secret  de- 
sire to  do  something  in  part  to  aid  Jesus,  prevents 
us  from  viewing  him  as  "  all  our  salvation,  and  all 
our  desire."  Humbled  though  we  have  been  by 
the  cutting  down  of  all  our  righteousness,  yet  the 
old  root  w^ill  sprout — ''  at  the  scent  of  water  it  w^ill 
bud  ;"  and  so  long  as  it  does  so,  there  can  be  no 
solid  peace,  no  real  cleaving  to  Christ.  We  must 
,  learn  to  sjDell  the  words  law  and  grace^  without 
'  mingling  the  letters. 

While  sick  men  take  two  kinds  of  medicine  there 
is  little  hope  of  a  cure,  especially  if  the  two 
draughts  are  compounded  of  op^^osing  ingredients  ; 
the  bird  which  lives  on  two  trees,  builds  its  nest 
on  neither ;  and  the  soul  halting  between  grace 
.  and  works  can  never  find  rest  for  the  sole  of  its 
V^foot.     Perhaps,  my  reader,  a  secret  and  w^ell-nigh 


JESUS   DESIRED.  139 

irapercGptlble  self-trust  is  the  very  thing  which 
shuts  out  Christ  from  thy  soul.     Search  and  look. 

E'ot  a  few  seekers  are  expecting  some  extraordi- 
nary sign  and  w^onder  ere  they  can  believe.  They 
imagine  that  conversion  will  come  upon  them  in 
some  marvellous  manner,  like  Mary's  visitation  by 
the  angeh  Naaman-like,  they  are  dreaming  that 
the  prophet  will  strike  his  hand  over  the  place,  and 
they  shall  recover.  "  Go  wash  in  Jordan  seven 
times  "  has  not  enongh  mystery  in  it  for  their  poor 
minds  :  "  Except  they  see  signs  and  wonders  they 
will  not  believe."  Let  none,  however,  hope  for 
miracles  ;  wonders  do  occur  :  some  are  brought  to 
Jesus  by  vision  and  revelation,  but  far  more  are 
drawn  by  the  usual  means  of  grace,  in  a  manner 
which  is  far  removed  from  the  marvellous.  The 
Lord  is  not  in  the  whirlwind,  the  Lord  is  not  in  the 
fire  ;  but  usually  he  speaketh  in  the  still  small 
voice.  Surely  it  should  be  enough  for  us,  if  we 
find  pardon  in  the  appointed  method,  without  de- 
siring to  have  rare  and  curious  experiences,  with 
which,  in  after  years,  we  may  gratify  our  own  self- 
love,  and  elevate  ourselves  as  singular  favourites 
of  heaven.  Regeneration  is  indeed  a  supernatural 
work,  but  it  is  usually  a  silent  one.  It  is  a  pulling 
down  of  strongholds,  but  the  earth  shakes  not  with 
the  fall ;  it  is  the  building  of  a  temple,  but  there  is 
no  sound  of  hammer  at  its  erection  ;  like  the  sun- 
rise, it  is  not  heralded  by  the  blast  of  trumpet,  nor 


v 


140  THE    SAINT    AND   UTS    SAVIOUE. 

do  wonders  hide  beneath  its  wings.  We  know 
who  is  the  mother  of  mjsteiy ;  do  we  desire  to  be 
her  children?  Strange  phantoms  and  marvellous 
creatures  find  their  dwelling-place  in  darJcness'y 
light  is  not  in  relationship  with  mystery  ;  let  none 
be  hoping  to  find  it  so.  Believe  and  live  is  the 
plan  of  the  Gospel ;  if  men  would  but  lay  aside 
their  old  ideas,  they  would  soon  find  Jesus  as  their 
very  present  help  ;  but  because  they  look  for  un- 
promised  manifestations,  they  seek  in  vain,  until 
disappointment  has  taught  them  wisdom. 

5.  Although  the  seeking  penitent  hath  renounced 
all  known  sin,  yet  it  may  he  that  some  sin  of  igno- 
rance yet  remains  unconfessed^  and  unrejyented  of^ 
which  will  frequently  be  a  cause  of  great  and  grie- 
vous delay. 

God,  who  searcheth  Jerusalem  with  candles, 
will  have  us  examine  ourselves  most  thoroughly. 
He  has  issued  a  search-warrant  to  conviction, 
which  giveth  that  ofiicer  a  right  to  enter  every 
room  of  our  house,  and  command  every  Eachel  to 
rise  from  her  seat  lest  the  images  should  be  beneath 
her.  Sin  is  so  skilful  in  deception,  that  it  is  hard 
to  discover  all  its  lurking  places  ;  neither  is  it  easy 
to  detect  its  character  when  brought  before  our 
eyes,  since  it  will  often  borrow  the  garb  of  virtue, 
and  appear  as  an  angel  of  light ;  nor  should  we  our- 
selves use  sufiicient  diligence  in  its  destruction,  if 
the  delay  of  the  needed  mercy  did  not  urge  us  to  a 


JESUS    DESIRED.  141 

more  yigorons  pursuit  of  the  traitors  who  have 
brought  us  into  grief.  Our  gracious  Lord,  for  our 
own  sake,  desires  the  execution  of  our  secret  sins, 
and  bj  his  frowns  he  puts  us  upon  the  watch  lest 
we  should  induloje  or  harbour  them. 

iSTever,  jDcrhaps,  shall  we  again  possess  so  deep 
a   horror   of   sin    as    in    that    moment   when    we 
well-nigh   despaired   of  deliverance   from  it,  and 
therefore   never   shall   we    be   so    fully  prepared 
to  exterminate  it.     Eternal  wisdom   will  not   al- 
low  a   season    so   propitious  to  pass  without  im- 
provement; and  having  melted  our  heart  in  the 
furnace  till  the  scum  floated  on  the  surface,  it  doth 
not   allow  it   to   cool   until  the   dross   hath   been 
removed.     Look  to  thyself,  O  seeker,  for  peradven- 
ture  the  cause  of  thy  pain  lieth  in  thine  own  heart. 
How  small,  a.  „ splinter  prevents  the  healing  of  a 
/festered  wound ;  extract  it,  and  the  cure  is  easy. 
.'    Be  wise;  what  thou  doest  do  quickly,  but  do  it 
^      perfectly ;  thus   shalt   thou   make   sure   work   for 
i      eternity,  and  speed  the  hour  of  thine  acceptance. 
\     Be  sure  sin  will  find  thee  out,  uirless  thou  dost  find 
J    it  out.     A  warrior  stimulated   the  valour  of  his 
'     soldiers  by  simply  pointing  to  the  enemy  and  ex- 
claiming, '^  Zads,  there  they  are^  if  yoio  do  not  hill 
thein^  they  will  Mil  you.''''     Thus  would  we  remind  ' 

Lthee,  that  sin  will  destroy  thee  if  thou  dost  not 
destroy  it.  Be  concerned,  then,  to  drive  it  from 
thine  heart. 


142  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

6.  Usefulness  in  after  life  is  often  increased  by 
the  bitter  experience  with  which  the  sonl  is  exer- 
cised while  seeking  after  Jesus;  but  as  this  has 
ah'eadj  received  our  attention,  we  will  close  our 
meditations  on  the  reasons  for  protracted  delay, 
by  the  simple  remark,  that  it  is  of  far  more  impor- 
tance to  a  penitent  to  use  every  means  for  obtain- 
ing the  Saviour's  blessing,  than  to  inquire  into  the 
motives  which  have  hitherto  made  him  deaf  to  his 
petitions.  Earnestly  do  we  entreat  the  mourner 
to  strive  to  enter  in  at  the  straight  gate,  and  to 
continue  his  cry — "  Oh  that  I  knew  where  I  might 
find  him !" 

in.  It  is  now  our  pleasant  duty  to  direct  the 
troubled  spirit  to  the  means  of  obtaining  speedy 
and  lasting  peace.  May  the  God  who  opened  the 
eyes  of  the  desolate  Hagar  in  the  wilderness,  and 
guided  her  so  that  she  saw  a  well  of  water  wdiereat 
she  filled  her  empty  bottle,  use  us  as  his  finger  to 
point  the  thirsting,  dying  sinner  to  the  place  where 
He  stands,  who  once  said,  "  If  any  man  thirst,  let 
him  come  unto  me  and  drink."  Our  rules  shall  be 
expressed  in  simple  words — that  the  wayfaring 
man,  though  a  fool,  may  not  err  therein. 

1.  Go  where  he  goes.  Dost  thou  desire  to  present 
a  petition  to  the  king — wilt  thou  not  go  to  his 
palace  to  do  it?  Art  thou  blind — where  shouldst 
thou  sit  but  at  the  way-side,  begging  ?  Hast  thou 
a  sore  disease — where  is  there  a  place  more  fitting 


^  JESUS   DESIRED.  143 

for  thee  than  the  porch  of  Bethesda,  where  my 
Lord  doth  walk  ?  Art  thou  palsied — wilt  thou  not 
desire  to  be  in  his  presence,  though  on  thy  bed 
thou  be  let  down  to  the  spot  where  he  standeth  ? 
Did.  not  Obadiah  and  Ahab  journey  throngh  the 
whole  land  of  Israel  to  find  Elijah?  and.  wilt  not 
thou  visit  every  place  where  there  is  hope  of  meet- 
ing Jesus  ?  Dost  thou  know  where  his  haunts  are  ? 
Hast  thou  not  heard  that  he  dwelleth  on  the  hill 
of  Zion,  and  hath  fixed  his  throne  of  mercy  within 
the  gates  of  Jerusalem  ?  Has  it  not  been  told  thee 
that  he  ofttimes  cometh  up  to  the  feast,  and  mingleth 
with  the  worshippers  in  his  temple?  Have  not 
the  saints  assured  thee  that  he  walketh  in  the 
midst  of  his  Church,  even  as  John,  in  vision,  saw 
him  among  the  golden  candlesticks  ?  Go,  then,  to 
the  city  which  he  hath  chosen  for  his  dwelling- 
place,  and  wait  within  the  doors  which  he  hath 
deigned  to  enter.  If  tliou  knowest  of  a  gospel 
minister,  sit  in  the  solemn  assembly  over  which  he 
is  president.  If  thou  hast  heard  of  a  church  which 
has  been  favoured  with  visits  from  its  Lord,  go 
and  make  one  in  the  midst  of  them,  that  when  he 
cometh  he  may  bid  thee  put  thine  hand  into  his 
side,  and  be  not  faithless  but  believing.  Lose  no 
opportunity  of  attending  the  word  :  Thomas  doubt- 
ed, because  he  was  not  there  when  Jesus  came. 

Let  sermons  and  prayers  be  thy  delight,  because 
they  are  roads  wherein  the  Saviour  walketh.     Let 


14^  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

tlie  rigliteons  be  thy  constant  company,  for  such  ever 
bring  Him  where  they  come.  It  is  the  least  thing 
thou  canst  do  to  stand  where  grace  usually  dispens- 
eth  its  favor.  Even  the  beggar  writes  his  petition 
on  the  flagstone  of  a  frequented  thoroughfare,  be- 
cause he  hopeth  that  among  the  many  passers,  some 
few  at  least  will  give  him  charity  ;  learn  from  him 
to  ofl'er  thy  prayers  where  mercies  are  known  to 
move  in  the  greatest  number,  that  amid  them  all 
there  may  be  one  for  thee.  Keep  thy  sail  up  when 
there  is  no  wind,  tliat  when  it  blows  thou  mayst 
not  have  need  to  prepare  for  it ;  use  means  when 
thou  seest  no  grace  attending  them,  for  thus  wilt 
thou  be  in  the  way  when  grace  comes.  Better  go 
fifty  times  and  gain  nothing  than  lose  one  good  op- 
portunity. If  the  angel  stir  not  the  pool,  yet  lie 
there  still,  for  it  may  be  the  moment  when  thou 
leavest  it  will  be  the  season  of  his  descending. 
"  Being  in  the  way,  the  Lord  met  with  me,"  said 
one  of  old ;  be  thou  in  the  way,  that  the  Lord  may 
meet  with  thee.  Old  Simeon  found  the  infant 
Messiah  in  the  Temple ;  had  lie  deserted  its  hal- 
lowed courts  he  might  never  have  said,  '•  Mine 
eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation."  Be  sure  to  keep  in 
mercy's  way. 

2.  Cry  after  Him.  Thou  hast  been  lying  in  his 
path  for  many  a  day,  but  he  has  not  turned  his 
eye  upon  thee.  What  then  ?  Art  thou  content  to 
let  him  pass  thee  by  ?     Art  thou  willing  to  lose  so 


Ji.SUS    DESIKED.  145 

precious  an  023j)ortiinity  ?  J^o  !  tliou  desirest  life, 
and  thou  wilt  not  bo  aslianied  to  beg  aloud  for  it : 
thou  wilt  not  fear  to  take  him  for  an  example  of 
whom  it  is  written,  "  When  he  heard  tliat  it  w^as 
Jesus  of  JSTazareth,  he  began  to  cry  out  and  say, 
Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me  I 
And  many  charged  him  that  he  should  hold  his 
peace ;  but  he  cried  the  more  a  great  deal,  Thou 
Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me !"  It  is  an  old 
proverb,  "  We  lose  nothing  by  asking,"  and  it  is  an 
older  promise,  Ask  and  ye  shall  receive."  Be  not 
afraid  of  crying  too  loudly.  It  is  recorded,  to  the 
honour  of  llordecai,  that  he  cried  with  a  loud  cry  ; 
and  we  know  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  suffereth 
violence.  Think  it  not  possible  to  pray  too  fre- 
quently, but  at  morning,  at  noon,  and  at  eventide, 
lift  up  thy  soul  unto  God.  Let  not  despondency  stop 
the  voice  of  thy  supplication,  for  He  who  heareth 
the  young  ravens  when  they  cry,  will  in  due  time 
listen  to  the  trembling  words  of  thy  desire.  Give 
Him  no  rest  until  he  hear  thee  ;  like  the  importu- 
nate widow,  be  thou  always  at  the  heels  of  the 
great  One  ;  give  not  up  because  the  past  has  proved 
apparently  fruitless,  remember  Jericho  stood  firm 
for  six  days,  but  yet  when  they  gave  an  exceeding 
great  shout,  it  fell  flat  to  the  ground,  '^xirise, 
cry  out  in  the  niglit :  in  the  beguniing  of  the 
watches  pour  out  thine  heart  like  water  before 
the  flice  of  the  Lord.     Let  tears  run  down  like  a 

T 


146  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

river  dav  and  nio^Iit :  ffive  tlivself  no  rost :  let  uat 
the  apple  of  thine  eje  cease."  *  Let  groans,  and 
sighs,  and  vows  keep  up  perpetual  assault  at  hea- 
ven's doors. 

"  Groans  fresh'd  with  vows,  and  tows  made  salt  with-  tears  ; 
Unscalc  Ms  eyes,  and  scale  his  conquered  ears : 
Shoot  up  the  bosom-shafts  of  thy  desire, 
Feather'd  with  faith,  and  double-fork'd  with  fire  ; 
And  they  will  hit:  fear  not,  where  Heaven  bids  come, 
HeavVs  never  deaf,  but  when  man's  heart  is  dumb." 

Augustine  svreetlj  vrrites,  "  Thou  may  est  seek  after 
honours,  and  not  obtain  them  ;  thou  mayest  labour 
for  riches,  and  yet  remain  poor ;  thou  mayest  dote 
on  pleasures,  and  have  many  sorrows.  But  our 
God  of  his  supreme  goodness  says,  Who  ever 
sought  ine^  and  found  me  not  ?  who  ever  desired 
me,  and  obtained  me  not  ?  who  ever  loved  me,  and 
missed  of  me  ?  I  am  with  him  that  seeks  for  me  : 
he  hath  me  already  that  wisheth  for  me ;  and  he 
that  loveth  me  is  sure  of  my  love."  Try  whether 
it  be  not  so,  O  reader,  for  so  have  we  found  it. 

3.  TliinJu  of  his  jpromises.  He  has  uttered  mauy 
sweet  and  gracious  words,  which  are  Jike  the  call 
of  the  hen,  inviting  thee  to  nestle  beneath  his 
wings,  or  like  white  flags  of  truce  bidding  thee 
come  without  fear.  There  is  not  a  single  promise 
which,  if  followed  up,  will  not  lead  thee  to  the 
Lord.     He  is   the   centre  of  the   circle,  and   the 

*  Lam.  ii.  18,  19. 


JESUS    DESIKED.  147 

promises,  like  radii,  all  meet  in  1dm  and  tlience 
become  Yea  and  Amen.  As  tlie  streams  run  to 
tlie  ocean,  so  do  all  the  sweet  words  of  Jesns  tend 
to  himself:  launch  thy  bark  upon  any  one  of  them, 
and  it  shall  bear  thee  onward  to  the  broad  sea  of 
his  love.  Lost  on  a  dreary  moor,  the  w\anderer 
discovers  his  cottage  by  the  light  in  the  window 
casting  a  gleam  over  the  darkness  of  the  w^aste ;  so 
also  must  w^e  find  out  "  our  dwelling-place  "  by  the 
lamps  of  promise  w^hich  our  Saviour  hath  placed 
in  the  windows  of  his  word.  The  handkerchiefs 
bronght  from  the  person  of  Paul  healed  the  sick ; 
surely  the  promises,  which  are  the  garments  of 
Christ,  will  avail  for  all  diseases.  We  all  know 
that  the  key  of  promise  will  imfasten  every  lock  in 
Doubting  Castle;  will  w^e  be  content  to  lie  any 
longer  in  that  dnngeon  when  that  key  is  ready  'to 
our  hand  %  A  large  number  of  the  ransomed  of  the 
Lord  have  received  their  liberty  by  means  of  a 
cheering  word  applied  v/ith  power.  Be  thou  con- 
stant in  readinii:  the  word  and  meditation  thereon. 
Amid  the  fair  flowers  of  promise  grovreth  the  rose 
of  Sharon — pluck  the  promises,  and  thou  mayest 
find  Him  with  them.  He  fcedeth  among  the  lilies 
— do  thou  feed  there  also.  The  sure  words  of 
Scripture  are  the  footsteps  of  Jesus  imprinted  on 
the  soil  of  mercy — follow  the  track  and  find  Him. 
The  promises  are  cards  of  admission  not  only  to  the 
throne,  the  mercy-seat,  and  the  audience-chamber, 


14:8  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

but  to  the  very  heart  of  Jesus.  Look  aloft  to  the 
sky  of  Revelation,  and  thou  wilt  yet  find  a  constel- 
lation of  promises  which  shall  guide  thine  eye  to 
the  star  of  Bethlehem.  Above  all,  cry  aloud  when 
thou  readest  a  promise,  "  Eemembcr  thy  word  unto 
thy  servant,  on  which  thou  hast  caused  me  to 
hope." 

,  4.  Meditate  on  Ids  person  and  Ids  %oorl<^.  If  we 
■were  better  acquainted  Avith  Jesus,  we  should  find 
it  more  easy  to  believe  him.  Many  souls  mourn 
because  they  cannot  make  themselves  believe ;  and 
the  constant  exhortations  of  ministers  persuading 
them  to  faith,  cause  them  to  sink  deeper  in  the 
mire,  since  all  their  attempts  prove  inefl:ectual.  It 
w^ere  well  for  both  if  they  would  remember  that  the 
mind  is  not  to  be  compelled  to  belief  by  exhorta- 
tion or  force  of  will ;  a  small  acquaintance  with  the 
elements  of  mental  science  would  sufiice  to  show 
them  that  faith  is  a  result  of  previous  states  of  the 
mind,  and  flows  from  those  antecedent  conditions, 
but  is  not  a  position  to  which  we  can  attain  without 
passing  through  those  other  states  which  the  Divine 
laws,  both  of  nature  and  of  grace,  have  made  the 
stepping-stones  thereto.  Even  in  natural  things, 
we  cannot  believe  a  thing  simply  because  we  are 
persuaded  to  do  so  ;  we  require  evidence ;  we  ask, 
"  What  are  we  to  believe  ?"  we  need  instruction 
on  the  matter  before  we  can  lay  hold  upon  it.  In 
Bpiritual  things  especially  we  need  to  know  what 


JESUS    DESIRED.  149 

we  arc  to  believe,  and  wlij.  We  cannot  by  one 
stride  mount  to  faith,  and  it  is  at  least  useless,  not 
to  say  cruel,  to  urge  us  to  do  so,  unless  we  are  told 
tlie  grounds  on  wliicli  our  faith  must  rest.  Some 
!  men  endeavour  to  preach  sinners  to  Christ ;  we 
prefer  to  preach  Christ  to  sinners.  AYe  believe 
that  a  faithful  exhibition  of  Jesus  crucified  will, 
under  the  Divine  blessing,  beget  faith  in  hearts 
where  fiery  oratory  and  vehement  declamation 
have  tailed.  Let  this  be  borne  in  mind  by  tliose 
who  are  bewailing  themselves,  in  the  words  of 
John  ^Newton : 

*'  Oh,  could  but  I  believe, 
Then  all  would  easy  be  ; 
I  would,  but  cannot — Lord,  relieve  ! 
My  help  must  come  from  thee." 

Thou  wilt  not  long  have  need  to  pray  in  this  fash- 
ion if  thou  canst  obey  the  rule  we  would  put  before 
thee,  which  is,  meditate  on  Jesus ;  reflect  upon  the 
mystery  of  his  incarnation  and  redemption  ;  and 
frequently  picture  the  agonies  of  Gethsemane  and 
Calvary.  The  cross  not  only  demands  faith,  but 
causes  it.  The  same  Christ  who  requires  faith  for 
salvation  doth  infuse  faith  into  all  those  who  do 
meekly  and  reverently  meditate  upon  his  sacrifice 
and  mediation.  We  learn  to  believe  in  an  honest 
man  by  an  acquaintance  with  him,  even  so  (although 
faith  be  the  gift  of  God,  yet  he  giveth  it  in  the  use 


150  '  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAYIOUE. 

of  the  mec^ns)  it  cometli  to  pass  that  by  frequent 
consideration  of  Jesus,  we  know  him,  a^d  therefore 
trust  in  him.  Go  thou  to  the  gloomy  brook  of  Ke- 
dron,  make  Gethsemane  thy  garden  of  retirement, 
tread  the  blood-stained  Gabbatha,  climb  the  hill 
of  Calvary,  sit  at  the  foot  of  the  accursed  tree, 
watch  the  victim  in  his  agonies,  listen  to  his  groans, 
mark  his  flowing  blood,  see  his  head  bowed  on  his 
breast  in  death,  look  into  his  open  side  ;  then  walk 
to  the  tomb  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  behold  him 
rise,  Yfitness  his  ascension,  and  view  him  exalted 
far  above  principalities  and  powers,  as  the  mediator 
for  sinful  men  :  thus  shalt  thou  see  and  believe,  for 
verily  hard  is  that  unbelief  which  can  endure  such 
sights  ;  and  if  the  Holy  Spirit  lead  thee  to  a  true 
vision  of  them,  thou  shalt  believe  inevitably,  find- 
ing it  impossible  longer  to  be  incredulous.  A  true 
view  of  Calvary  will  smite  unbelief  with  death,  and 
put  faith  into  its  place.  Spend  hours  in  holy  re- 
tirement, tracing  his  pilgrimage  of  woo,  and  thou 
shalt  soon  sing, 

"  Oh  how  sweet  to  view  the  flowing 
Of  his  soul-redeeming  blood  ; 
With  Divine  assurance  knowing 
Tiiat  he  made  my  peace  with  God !" 

5.  Venture  on  Him.  This  is  the  last  but  best 
advice  we  give  thee,  and  if  thou  hast  attended  to 
that  which  precedes  it,  thou  wilt  be  enabled  to  fol- 


JESUS    DESIRED.  151 

low  it.  W"e  liavG  said  "  venture,"  but  we  imply 
no  venture  of  risk,  but  one  of  courage.  To  be 
saved  it  is  required  of  tliee  to  renounce  all  hope  of 
salvation  by  any  save  Jesus — that  thou  hast  sub- 
mitted to.  IText  thou  art  called  upon  to  cast  thy- 
self entirely  on  him,  prostrating  thyself  before  his 
cross,  content  to  rely  wholly  on  Hiin.  Do  this,  and 
thou  art  saved,  refuse  and  thou  art  damned.  Sub- 
scribe  thy  name  to  this  simple  rhyme — • 

"  I'm  a  poor  sinner,  and  nothing  at  all, 
But  Jesus  Christ  is  my  all  in  all ;" 

and,  doing  this,  thou  art  secure  of  heaven. 

Dost  thou  delay  because  of  unworthiness  ?  Oh  do 
not  so,  for  he  invites  thee  just  as  thou.  art.  Tliou 
art  not  too  sinful,  for  he  is  "  able  to  save  unto  the 
uttermost."  Think  not  little  of  his  power  or  his 
grace,  for  he  is  infinite  in  each ;  only  fall  flat  upon 
his  gracious  declaration,  and  thou  shalt  be  em- 
braced by  his  mercy.  To  believe  is  to  take  Jesus 
at  his  word,  and  when  all  things  deny  thee  the 
hope  of  salvation,  still  to  call  Ilim  yours.  ]N'ow 
we  beseech  thee  launch  into  the  deep,  novv'  cut  thy 
moorings  and  give  up  thyself  to  the  gale,  nov/  leave 
the  rudder  in  his  hands,  and  surrender  thy  keeping 
to  his  guardianship.  In  this  way  alone  shalt  thou 
obtain  peace  and  ete;nal  life. 

May  the  Directing  Spirit  lead  us  each  to  Him  in 
whom  there  is  light,  and  whose  light  is  the  life  of 
men. 


TO  THE  u:n^co:^yeeted  keadee. 


Friend — Love  to  tlij  soul  constrains  us  to  set 
apart  tliis  small  enclosure  for  tliine  especial  benefit. 
Oh  tliat  thou  hadst  as  much  love  for  tliine  own  soul 
as  the  writer  has  !  Though  he  may  have  never  seen 
thee,  yet  remember  when  he  vrrote  these  lines  he 
put  up  an  especial  prayer  for  thee,  and  he  had  thee 
on  his  heart  while  he  penned  these  few  but  earnest 
words. 

O  Friend,  thou  art  no  seeker  of  Jesus,  but  the 
reverse !  To  thine  own  confusion  thou  art  going 
from  him  instead  of  to  him  !  Oh,  stay  a  moment 
and  consider  thy  loays — tlij position — thine  end/ 

As  for  thy  ^ca7/s,  they  are  not  only  wrong  before 
God,  but  they  are  uneasy  to  thyself.  Thy  con- 
science, if  it  be  not  seared  with  a  hot  iron,  is  every 
day  thundering  at  thee  on  account  of  thy  paths  of 
folly.  Oh  that  thou  wouldst  turn  from  thine  error, 
while  the  promise  is  yet  within  hearing,  "Let 
the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous 

152 


JESUS    DESIRED.  153 

man  liis  thoughts ;  and  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  unto 
our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon."  Be  not 
betrayed  into  a  continuance  in  these  ways  in  the 
vain  hope  that  thy  life  will  be  prolonged  to  an  in- 
definite period,  wherein  thou  hopest  to  accomplish 
repentance ;  for  life  is  as  frail  as  the  bubble  on  the 
breaker,  and  as  swift  as  the  Indian  arrow.  To-mor- 
row may  never  come,  oh  use  ^'  to-day" — 

Nou\  is  the  constant  syllable  ticking  from  tlie  clock  of  time ; 
JS^ow,  is  the  watch'^-ord  of  the  wise ;  i\^c»zo,  is  on  the   banner  of 

the  prudent. 
Cherish  thy  to-day,  and  prize  it  well,  or  ever  it  be  engulphed 

in  the  past ; 
Husband  it,  for  who  can  promise  if  it  shall  have  a  to-morrow."* 

"  To-morrow  is  a  fatal  lie — the  wrecker's  beacon — • 
wily  snare  of  the  destroyer ;"  be  wise,  and  see  to 
thy  ways  while  time  waits  for  thee. 

Consider  next  thj  jpositioii.  A  condemned  crim- 
inal waiting  for  execution  ;  a  tree,  at  the  root  of 
which  the  axe  is  gleaming ;  a  target,  to  which  the 
shaft  of  death  is  speeding ;  an  insect  beneath  the 
finger  of  vengeance  waiting  to  be  crushed  ;  a  wretch 
hurried  along  by  the  strong  torrent  of  time  to  an 
inevitable  precipice  of  doom. 

Thy  present  position  is  enough  to  pale  the  cheek 
of  carlessness,  and  move  the  iron  knees  of  profanity. 

*  Tupper's  Proverbial  Philosophy. 


154  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

A  man  asleep  in  a  burning  house,  or  with  his  neck 
upon  the  block  of  the  headsman,  or  laying  before 
the  mouth  of  a  cannon,  is  not  in  a  more  dangerous 
case  than  thou  art.  Oh  bethink  thee,  ere  desola- 
tion, destruction  and  damnation,  seal  up  thy  des- 
tiny, and  stamp  thee  with  despair ! 

Be  sure,  also,  that  thou  consider  thy  latter  end^ 
for  it  is  thine  whether  thou  consider  it  or  no.  Thou 
art  ripening  for  hell ;  oh,  how  w^ilt  thou  endure  its 
torments  !  Ah !  if  thou  wouldst  afford  a  moment 
to  visit,  in  imagination,  the  cells  of  the  condemned, 
it  might  benefit  thee  for  ever.  What !  fear  to  ex- 
amine the  house  in  wdiich  thou  art  to  dwell? 
What !  rush  to  a  place  and  fear  to  see  a  picture  of 
it  ?  Oh  let  thy  thoughts  precede  thee,  and  if  they 
bring  back  a  dismal  story,  it  may  induce  thee  to 
change  thy  mind,  and  tread  another  path !  Thou 
wilt  lose  nothing  by  m.editation,  but  rather  gain 
much  thereby.  Oh  let  the  miseries  of  lost  souls 
warn  thee  lest  thou  also  come  into  this  place  of 
torment !  May  the  day  soon  arrive  when  thou 
canst  cry  after  the  Lord,  and  then  even  thou  shalt 
be  delivered ! 


IV. 
JESUS   PARDONING 


"  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Sou  clcanscth  us  from  all  sin." — 
1  John  i.  Y. 


"  I  will  praise  thee  every  day, 
Now  thine  angers  turn'd  away  : 
Comfortable  thoughts  arise 
From  the  bleeding  sacrifice. 
Jesus  is  become  at  length, 
My  salvation  and  my  strength ; 
And  his  praises  shall  prolong, 
While  I  live,  my  pleasant  song. 


Let  our  lips  crowd  sonnets  within  the  compass 
of  a  w^orcl ;  let  our  voice  distil  hours  of  melody  in- 
to a  single  syllable ;  let  our  tongue  utter  in  one 
letter  the  essence  of  the  harmony  of  ages :  for  we 
Nvrite  of  an  hour  which  as  far  excelleth  all  the  days 
of  our  life  as  gold  exceedeth  dross.  As  the  night 
of  Israel's  passover  was  a  night  to  be  remembered, 
a  theipe  for  bards,  and  an  incessant  fountain  of 


155 


156  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

grateful  song,  even  so  is  the  time  of  wliicli  we 
now  SjDeak,  tlie  never-to-be-forgotten  lionr  of  our 
emancipation  from  guilt,  and  of  our  justification 
in  Jesus. 

Other  days  have  mingled  with  their  fellows  till, 
like  coins  worn  in  circulation,  their  image  and  su- 
perscription are  entirely  obliterated ;  but  this  day 
remaineth  new,  fresh,  bright,  as  distinct  in  all  its 
parts  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday  struck  from  the 
mint  of  time.  Memory  shall  drop  from  her  palsied 
hand  full  many  a  memento  which  now  she  che- 
rishes, but  she  shall  never,  even  when  she  tottereth 
to  the  grave,  unbind  from  her  heart  the  token  of 
the  thrice-happy  hour  of  the  redemption  of  our 
spirit.  The  emancij^ated  galley-slave  may  forget 
the  day  which  heard  his  broken  fetters  rattle  on 
the  ground  ;  the  pardoned  traitor  may  fail  to  re- 
member the  moment  when  the  axe  of  the  heads- 
man was  averted  by  a  pardon ;  and  the  long-des- 
pairing mariner  may  not  recollect  the  moment 
when  a  friendly  hand  snatched  him  from  the 
hungry  deep :  but  O  hour  of  forgiven  sin !  mo- 
ment of  perfect  pardon !  our  soul  shall  never  for- 
get thee  while  within  her  life  and  being  find  an 
immortality. 

Each  day  of  our  life  hath  had  its  attendant' 
angel ;  but  on  this  day,  like  Jacob  at  Mahanaim, 
hosts  of  angels  met  us.  The  sun  hath  risen  every 
mornino:,  but  on  that  eventful   morn   he  had  the 


JESUS    PARDONING.  157 

liglit  of  seven  days.  As  tlie  days  of  lieavcn  Tipon 
earth — as  the  years  of  immortality — as  tlie  ages  of 
glory — as  the  bliss  of  heaven,  so  were  the  hours 
of  that  thrice-happy  day.  Raptm-e  divine,  and 
ecstasy  inexpressible,  filled  our  soul.  Fear,  dis- 
tress, and  grief,  with  all  their  train  of  woes,  fled 
hastily  away  ;  and  in  their  place  joys  came  with- 
out number.  Like  as  terrors  fly  before  the  rising 
sunlight,  so  vanished  all  our  dark  forebodings,  and 

"  As  raorn  her  rosy  stops  in  tlie  eastern  clime, 
Advancing,  sowed  the  earth  with  orient  pearl," 

so  did  grace  strew  our  heart  Vvdth  priceless  gems 
of  joy.  "For,  lo,  the  winter  was  past;  the  rain 
was  over  and  gone  ;  the  flowers  appeared  on  the 
earth  ;  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  was  come  ; 
and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  was  heard  in  our  land ; 
the  fig-tree  put  forth  her  green  figs,  and  the  vines 
with  the  tender  grape  gave  a  good  smell,  when 
our  Beloved  spake,  and  said,  '  Arise,  my  love,  my 
fair  one,  and  come  away.' "  Our  buried  powers, 
upspringing  from  the  dark  earth,  where  corruption 
had  buried  them,  budded,  blossomed,  and  brought 
forth  clusters  of  fruit.  Our  soul  was  all  awake  to 
gladness ;  conscience  sang  approval ;  judgment 
joyfully  attested  the  validity  of  the  acquittal ; 
hope  painted  bright  visions  for  the  future  ;  while 
imao-ination  knew  no  bounds  to  the  ea2:le-fiif>:ht  of 

•— >  O  CD 

her  loosened  wing.     Tlie  city  of  Mansoul  had  a 


158  TKE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

grand  illumination,  and  even  its  obscurest  lanes 
and  alleys  were  liung  with  lamps  of  brilliance. 
The  bells  of  our  soul  rang  merry  peals,  music  and 
dancing  filled  every  chamber,  and  every  room  was 
perfumed  with  flowers.  Our  heart  was  flooded 
with  delight ;  like  a  bottle  full  of  new  wine,  it 
needed  vent.  It  contained  as  much  of  heaven  as 
the  finite  can  hold  of  infinity.  It  was  wedding- 
day  with  our  soul,  and  w^e  wore  robes  fairer  than 
ever  graced  a  bridal.  By  night  angels  sang — 
"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  on  earth  peace, 
goodwill  towards  men;  and  in  the  morning,  re- 
membering their  midnight  melodies,  we  sang  them 
o'er  again.  'We  walked  in  Paradise  ;  we  slept  in 
bowers  of  amaranth  ;  we  drank  drauo^hts  of  nectar 
from  goblets  of  gold,  and  fed  on  luscious  fruits 
brought  to  us  in  baskets  of  silver. 

"  The  liquid  drops  of  tears  that  we  once  shed 
Came  back  again,  transform'd  to  richest  pearl ;" 

the  breath  we  spent  in  sighs  returned  npon  us  la- 
den with  fragrance ;  the  past,  the  present,  the  fu- 
ture, like  three  fair  sisters,  danced  around  us,  light 
of  foot  and  gladsome  of  heart.  We  had  discovered 
the  true  alchy mist's  stone,  which,  turning  all  to 
gold,  had  transmuted  all  within  ns  into  the  purest 
metal.  We  were  rich,  immensely  rich  ;  for  Christ 
was  ours,  and  we  were  heirs  with  Him. 

Our  body,  too,  once  the  clog  and  fetter  of  our 


JESUS    PAKDONING.  159 

sjDirit,  became  the  active  partner  of  our  bliss.  Our 
eyes  were  windows  lighted  up  with  happiness ;  onr 
feet  were  young  roes  bounding  with  pleasure  ;  onr 
lips  were  fountains  gushing  witli  song,  and  our  ears 
were  the  seats  of  minstrels.  It  was  hard  to  contain 
our  rapture  within  the  narrow  bounds  of  prudence. 
Like  the  insects  leaping  in  the  sunshine,  or  the  fish 
sporting  in  tlie  stream,  we  could  have  danced  to  and 
fro  in  tlie  convulsions  of  our  delight.  "\Yero  we 
sick,  our  pleasure  drowned  our  pain ;  were  we  fee- 
ble, our  bliss  renewed  our  strength.  Each  broken 
bone  praised  Him  ;  eacli  strained  sinew  blessed 
Him  ;  our  whole  flesh  extolled  Him.  Every  sense 
was  the  inlet  of  joy,  and  the  outlet  of  praise.  As 
the  needle  stayeth  at  the  pole,  so  did  our  quivering 
frame  rest  on  Him.  We  knew  no  thought  beyond, 
no  hope  above,  the  perfect  satisfaction  of  that  hour  ; 
for  Cbrist  and  his  salvation  had  filled  us  to  the  very 
brim. 

All  nature  appeared  to  sympathize  with  us.  Wo 
went  forth  with  joy,  and  were  led  forth  with  peace  ; 
the  mountains  and  the  hills  broke  forth  before  us  into 
singing,  and  all  the  trees  of  the  field  clapped  their 
hands.  The  fields,  the  floods,  the  sky,  the  air,  the 
sun,  the  stars,  the  cattle,  the  birds,  the  fish — yea, 
the  very  stones  seemed  sharers  of  our  joy.  They 
were  the  choir,  and  we  the  leaders  of  a  band,  who 
at  the  lifting  of  our  hand  poured  forth  whole  floods 
of  harm  on  V. 


160  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

Perhaps  our  birtliclay  found  the  earth  wrap]3ed 
in  the  robes  of  winter^  but  its  snowy  whiteness  was 
all  in  keej)ing  with  the  holiday  of  our  spirit.  Each 
snow-flake  renewed  the  assurance  of  our  pardon, 
for  we  were  now  washed  wdiiter  than  snow.  The 
burial  of  the  earth  in  its  winding-sheet  of  white  be- 
tokened to  us  the  covering  of  our  sins  by  the  right- 
eousness of  Jesus.  The  trees,  festooned  with  ice- 
drops,  glittered  in  the  sun  as  if  they  had  coined 
stars  to  shine  upon  us  ;  and  even  the  chill  blast,  as 
it  whirled  around  us,  appeared  but  an  image  of  that 
power  wdiich  had  carried  our  sins  away,  as  far  as 
the  east  is  from  the  west.  Sure,  never  was  winter 
less  wintery  than  then,  for.  in  a  nobler  sense  than 
the  poet  *  we  can  affirm — 

"  "With  frequent  foot, 
PleasVl  haye  I,  in  my  cheerful  morn  of  life, 
Trod  the  pure  snows,  myself  as  pure." 

Grace  enabled  us  to  find  a  song  where  othei-s  did 
but  murmur. 

It  may  be  we  were  brought  to  love  the  glorious 
Kedeemer  in  the  sjyring-Ume  of  the  year ;  and  if  so, 
our  quickened  spirit  found  all  around  it  the  coun- 
ter part  of  the  world  within.  We,  too,  like  the  lit- 
tle flowers,  were  rising  from  our  tombs ;  like  the 
sweet  birds,  expecting  brighter  days,  we  sung  the 
songs  of  promise;    like  the   rippling  brooks,  un- 

*  Thompson. 


JESUS    PARDONING.  161 

bound  from  onr  captivity,  we  leaped  in  hasty  joy  ; 
and  like  the  woodlands,  we  were  ''  prodigal  of  har- 
mony." The  mountains,  lifting  their  green  heads 
to  the  sky,  we  charged  to  tell  our  Maker  how  we 
desired  to  approach  his  footstool ;  and  the  valleys, 
bleating  with  the  flocks,  were  bidden  to  commend 
us  to  the  notice  of  the  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep. 
The  falling  rains  we  thanked  as  emblems  of  him 
who  Cometh  down  "like  rain  upon  the  mown 
grass  ;"  and  the  smiling  sun  we  owned  as  a  type  of 
his  great  Lord,  who  bringeth  healing  beneath  his 


"  We  walk'd 
The  sunny  glado,  and  felt  an  inward  bliss 
Beyond  the  power  of  kings  to  purchase." 

Aye,  and  beyond  the  power  of  kings  to  guess  if 
they,  too,  had  not  felt  the  same.  As  the  portals  of 
earth  were  opening  for  the  coming  of  the  summer, 
so  were  we  preparing  for  glorious  days  of  happiness 
and  fruitfulness.  Everything  in  creation  was  in 
keeping  witli  our  condition,  as  if  nature  was  but  a 
dress  made  by  a  skilful  hand,  fitting  our  new-born 
soul  in  every  part.  "We  were  supremely  blest. 
Our  heart  was  like  a  bell  dancing  at  bridal  joj^s, 
and  the  world  was  full  of  bells  chiming  with  it. 
We  were  glad,  and  nature  cried,  "  Child,  lend  me 
thine  hand,  and  we  will  dance  together,  for  I  too 
am  at  ease  since  my  great  Lord  hath  loosed  me 


162  THE     SAINT   AND    HIS    SAYIOUK. 

from  my  wintry  fetters ;    como   on,  favoured  one, 
and  wander  where  thou  wilt,  for 

"  '  The  soft'ning  air  is  balm  ; 
Eclio  the  mountains  round  ;  the  forest  smiles  ; 
And  every  sense,  and  every  heart  is  joy.' 

Come  on,  then,  and  sport  with  me  on  this  our  mu- 
tual feast." 

If  in  summer  we  brought  forth  fruits  meet  for 
repentance,  and  were  planted  in  the  garden  of  the 
Lord,  the  soil  on  which  we  trod  was  prolific  of 
emblems  of  our  own  condition,  and  of  creatures 
•  sympathising  with  our  joy;  and  the  sky  which 
canopied  our  dwelling-place  was  woven  like  a 
tapestry  with  praises  of  our  Lord.  When  the  rain- 
bow bridged  the  sky,  we  hailed  it  as  the  sign  of 
the  eternal  covenant  made  with  us  by  Ilim  who 
keepeth  truth  to  all  generations ;  if  the  steaming 
river  sent  its  exhalation  to  the  elouds,  w^e  put  our 
song  upon  its  altar  that  it  might  ascend  with  it ;  if 
the  dewdrops  sparkled  on  the  breast  of  morn,  "  the 
dew  of  our  youth  "  rejoiced  at  their  kindred  beauty ; 
or  if  the  soft  winds  breathed  odours,  we  bade  them 
receive  another  burden,  while  we  perfumed  them 
with  the  name  of  Jesus.  "Whether  we  vv^alked  the 
sea-side,  and  thought  the  waves  washed  blessings 
to  our  feet,  or  found  beneath  the  high  rock  a  grate- 
ful shelter  from  the  heat,  or  drank  the  stream 
whose  waters  were  sweeter  to  our  taste  than  e'er 


JESUS    TARDONING.  163 

before,  we  vrere  bv  every  object  drawn  upward 
evermore  to  contemplate  the  Lord  onr  Redeemer, 
who  in  every  scene  of  nature  was  set  forth  in 
miniature.  All  summers  had  been  winters  com- 
pared with  this ;  for  now  we  had  flowers  in  our 
heart,  a  sun  in  our  soul,  fruits  in  our  sj^irit,  songs 
in  our  thoughts,  and  joy  and  heat  in  our  affections. 
Till  then  we  never  knew  the  glory  of  this  mighty 
world,  because  we  did  not  know  it  to  be  our 
Father's  and  our  own ;  but  then  we  looked  from 
the  hill-top  on  the  wide-spread  scene  with  the  eyes 
of  a  young  heir  just  come  to  his  estate,  or  a  fresli- 
cj'owned  monarch  wdiose  fair  dominions  stretch 
beneath  his  feet  far  as  the  eye  can  see.  Then  we 
felt,  \wfact^  what  we  had  only  heard  in  poetry,  the 
noble  birthrio-ht  of  a  reo'eneratcd  man — 

"  nis  are  the  mountains,  and  the  valleys  his  ; 
And  the  rcsplelident  rivers.     His  to  enjoy, 
W^ith  a  propriety  that  none  can  feci ; 
But  -^vho,  ■v^•ith  filial  confidence  inspir'd, 
Can  lift  to  heaven  an  unpresninptuous  eye. 
And  smiling  say,  '  liy  Father  made  them  all.' 
Are  they  not  his  by  a  peculiar  right, 
And  by  an  emphasis  of  interest  his, 
W'hosc  eye  they  fill  with  tears  of  holy  joy, 
Whose  heart  with  praise,  aiid  whose  exalted  mind 
With  worthy  thoughts  of  that  unwearied  love. 
That  plann  d,  and  built,  and  still  upholds,  a  world 
So  cloth'd  with  beauty  for  rebellious  man?" 

O  happy  spirit !  tuned  aright  to  unison  with  a  fair 


164  THE    SMNT    AKD    HIS    SAYIOCE. 

eartL,  man's  first  inlieritance,  lost  till  by  grace 
again  we  call  it  ours,  and  know  it  to  be  beantiful. 
Words  fail  to  describe  the  Divine  rapture  of  tlie 
spirit ;  and  liowever  well  a  23oet  may  paint  natm-e 
as  he  sees  it,  yet  tboiigli  be  succeed  to  bis  own 
satisfaction,  tlie  new-born  cbild  of  God,  wbose 
feelings  are  ricber  even  tlian  tbe  VN'ealtb  of  poesy, 
will  feel  tbat  be  batb  but  poorly  pencilled  wbat  bis 
now  enligbtened  eye  bebolds  witb  raptures  of 
deligbt.  Tbis  world  is  a  great  music-box,  and  be 
wbo  batb  tbe  key  can  set  it  playing,  wbile  otbers 
witb  open  moutb  are  wondering  wbence  tbe  song 
proceedetb.  iNature  is  a  colossal  organ,  and  tbe 
frail  fino-ers  of  man  may  move  its  kevs  to  tbunders 
of  music  ;  but  tbe  organist  is  usually  unseen,  and 
tbe  world  knows  not  bow  sucb  majestic  sounds  are 
begotten.  Summer  is  eartb  in,  court-dress  ;  and 
if  tbe  beart  be  so,  it  will  know  to  wbat  court  sum- 
mer belongetb,  and  will  call  bim  friend. 

Need  we  reiterate  our  joys  by  laying  aiitimin 
also  under  contribution  ?  Truly,  if  tben  we  found 
our  Lord,  tbe  ripened  fruit  did  taste  more  lusciously 
tban  ever.  Tbe  yellow  suit  in  wbicb  tbe  year 
was  clad  sbone  in  our  eyes  like  burnisbed  gold. 
Even  as  old  Autumn — 

"  Joy'd  in  Lis  plenteous  store, 
Laden  witli  fruits  that  made  him  laugh,  full  glad 
That  he  had  banish'd  hunger,'' 


JESUS    PARDONING.  165 

SO  did  we  rejoice  tliat  our  li linger  and  thirst  were 
satisfied  with  ripe  fruit  from  the  tree  of  life.  The 
harvest-home  echoed  to  our  heart's  glad  shouts, 
and  the  vintage  songs  kept  tune  v\'ith  our  loud  re- 
joicings. 

All  seasons  of  the  year  are  alike  beautiftd  to 
those  who  know  how  to  track  the  Creator's  foot- 
steps along  the  road  of  providence,  or  who  have 
found  a  token  of  his  grace,  and  therefore  bless  the 
hour  in  which  it  came.  There  is  neither  stick  nor 
stone,  nor  insect,  nor  reptile,  which  will  not  teach 
us  praise  when  the  soul  is  in  such  a  state  as  that 
whereof  we  now  are  musing  : — 

"  There's  music  in  the  sighing  of  a  reed  ; 
There's  music  in  the  gushing  of  a  rill ; 
There's  music  in  all  things,  if  men  had  ears  ; 
Their  earth  is  but  an  echo  of  the  spheres."  * 

The  one  pardoning  word  of  the  Lord  of  all  abso- 
lution hath  put  music  into  all  things,  even  as  the 
trump  of  the  archangel  shall  breathe  life  into  the 
dead.  Those  drops  of  atoning  blood  have  put  fair 
colours  upon  all  creation,  even  as  the  sunrise  paints 
the  earth,  which  else  had  been  one  huge  blot  of 
darkness. 

How  doubly  dear  do  all  our  mercies  become  at 
the  moment  when  Christ  shines  on  us  !  the  bread 
of  our  table  is  well  nigh  as  holy  as  the  bread  of  the 

*  Byron. 


166  THE   SAINT   AND    niS    SAVIOUE. 

Eucliai'ist ;  tlio  wine  we  drink  tastes  as  sacred  as 
that  of  His  consecrated  cup  ;  each  meal  is  a  sacra- 
mentj  each  sleep  hath  its  Jacob's  vision ;  our 
clothes  are  vestments,  and  onr  house  a  temple. 
We  may  be  sons  of  poverty,  but  when  Jesus  comes, 
for  that  day,  at  least,  he  strews  our  floor  with  sand 
of  gold,  and  plants  upon  the  roof  hard-by  tlie 
ancient  house-leek,  flowers  of  sweet  contentment, 
of  which  heaven  need  not  be  ashamed.  We  arc 
made  so  happy  in  our  low  estate  at  that  transport- 
ing word  of  grace  which  gives  us  liberty,  that  we 
do  not  envy  princes  their  crowns,  nor  would  their 
wealth  tempt  us  from  the  happy  spot  where  our 
Lord  deigns  to  give  us  his  company. 

Oh  that  blest  day !  again  our  memory  rushes 
back  to  it,  and  rapture  glows  even  at  its  mention. 
Many  days  have  passed  since  then ;  but  as  the  one 
draught  of  sweet  vrater  refreshes  the  camel  over 
many  a  mile  of  desert,  so  doth  that  happy  hour 
still  cheer  us  as  we  remember  it.  Be2:innino-  of 
the  days  of  heaven  !  Firstborn  of  morning  !  Pro- 
phet of  blessings  !  Funeral  of  fears  !  Birthday  of 
hope  !  Day  of  our  spirit's  betrothal !  Day  of  God 
and  day  of  mercy  ! — oh  that  we  had  power  to  sing 
the  joy  which  kindles  our  passions  to  a  flame  while 
we  review  thee  !  or  rather,  oh  that  we  had  grace 
to  hymn  His  praise  who  made  thee  such  a  day ! 
Doth  the  stranger  inquire,  IVhat  hath  so  distin- 
guished that  day  above  its  fellows  ?  the  answer  is 


JESUS   PARDONING.  167 

already  knoclviug  at  the  door  of  our  lips  to  obtain 
au  egress.  AYe  were  released  from  the  thraldom 
of  sin,  we  were  delivered  from  the  scourges  of  con- 
science, we  w^ere  ransomed  from  the  bondage  of 
law,  we  were  emancipated  from  the  slavery  of  cor- 
ruption ;  death  vanished  before  the  quickening  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  poverty  was  made  rich  with  infinite 
treasures  of  grace,  and  hunger  felt  itself  satisfied 
with  good  things.  leaked  before,  we  on  that  day 
put  on  the  I'obes  of  princes  ;  black,  we  washed  our- 
selves clean  in  a  bath  of  blood ;  sick,  we  received 
instant  healing ;  despairing,  we  rejoiced  with  joy 
mispeakable.  Ask  lier  who  I]as  had  the  issue  of 
her  blood  stanched  by  a  touch ;  ask  yon  liealed 
demoniac,  or  his  companion  who  throws  away  the 
crutch  of  his  long  halting,  v/hy  on  that  day  of  re- 
covery they  were  glad  ;  and  they  w^ill  exhibit  their 
own  persons  as  reasons  for  their  joy  :  so,  O  wonder- 
ing gazer,  look  on  us  and  solve  the  mystery  of  our 
enthusiastic  song.  Vfe  ourselves  are  our  own 
answer  to  your  inquiries. 

Let  us  summon  memory  again  to  lead  the  choir, 
while  all  that  is  within  us  doth  bless  His  holy 
name.  ''He  spake  and  it  was  done;"  "He  said, 
Let  there  be  light,  and  there  was  light."  He 
passed  by,  in  the  greatness  of  Lis  love  and  in  the 
plenitude  of  his  powxr,  and  bade  us  live.  O  eyes 
of  beauty,  how  were  ye  outdone  by  his  sweet 
looks  !     He  was  fairer  than  tlie  sons  of  men,  and 


168  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

lovelier  than  a  dream  when  he  manifested  himself 
mito  us.  LyiDg  by  the  pool  of  mercy,  we  pined 
away  with  disappointment,  for  none  would  put  us 
into  the  healing  water ;  but  his  love  stayed  not 
for  an  instant,  he  said,  "Take  up  tliy  bed  and  walk." 
Ah,  where  shall  thunders  be  found  which  will  lend 
us  voices  ?  where  floods  which  can  lend  us  uplifted 
hands  ?  for  we  need  these  to  utter  half  His  praise. 
Augels,  your  sonnets  and  your  golden  canticles 
are  poor,  poor  things  for  our  sweet  Lord  Jesus. 
He  dcserveth  notes  which  your  voices  cannot 
afford,  and  music  which  dwells  not  within  the 
strings  of  your  most  melodious  harps.  He  must  be 
his  own  poet,  for  none  but  he  can  sing  himself. 
He  knows,  and  only  he,  that  depth  of  love  within 
his  bleeding  heart,  some  drops  of  wliich  we  drank 
on  that  auspicious  morning  of  redemption.  He 
can  tell,  and  only  he,  the  transporting  sound  of 
that  sweet  assurance  which  laid  our  fears  to  rest 
in  his  own  sepulchre.  He  alone  can  testify  what 
he  hath  wrought ;  for,  as  for  us,  we  were  'asleep 
on  the  mount  of  joy ;  "when  God  turned  back  the 
captivity  ofZion,  we  were  like  men  that  dreamed; 
our  mouth  was  filled  with  laughter,  and  our  tongue 
with  singing.""  Ile^  our  Light,  did  light  a  candle 
around  us ;  our  "  conversation  vras  in  heaven ;" 
our  soul  made  us  like  the  chariots  of  Amminadib  ; 

*  Ps.  cxxvi,  1,  2. 


i 


JESUS   PAEDONING.  169 

V 

"  Our  rapture  secm'd  a  pleasing  dream, 
The  grace  appear'd  so  great." 

TVe  cried  out  in  wonder,,  love,  and  praise, 
"  Whence  is  this  to  me  ?  *  and  what  am  I,  and 
what  is  my  Father's  honse,  that  the  Lord  hath 
visited  me,  and  brought  me  hitherto."  f  Our  dark 
and  loathsome  prison  still  made  our  garments  to 
smell  of  its  mouldiness,  and  this  quickened  our 
gratitude  for  our  deliverance.  Like  Jonah,  fresh 
from  the  whale's  belly,  we  were  willing  enough 
for  service  of  any  kind ;  all  too  glad  to  have  come 
up  alive  from  "the  bottoms  of  the  mountains," 
where  we  feared  that  "the  earth  with  her  bars 
was  about  us  for  ever."  Never  did  lark  spring 
from  his  cage  door  to  the  sky  with  half  such  speed 
as  that  which  we  made  when  we  obtained  our 
liberty  from  the  iron  bondage ;  no  young  roe  e'er 
bounded  so  nimbly  over  the  hills  as  did  our  hearts 
when  they  were  "  like  hinds  let  loose."  We  could 
almost  re-tread  the  steps  of  our  pilgrimage  to  sing 
once  more  that  song  of  triumph  over  a  host  of  sins 
buried  in  the  sea  of  forge tfuln  ess,  or  drink  again 
of  the  wells  of  Elim,  or  sit  beneath  those  seventy 
palm-trees. 

Deal-  spot  of  gi'ound  where  Jesus  met  us !  dear 
hour  which  brought  us  to  his  feet  I  and  precious, 
lips  of  Jesus,  which  spoke  us  free !     That  hour 

*  Luke  i.  43.  f  2  Sam.  vii.  18. 


170  THE    SAINT   AIJD    HIS    SAYIOUE. 

shall  lead  the  song,  and  every  hour  shall  join  the 
chorus  of — "  Unto  him  that  loyed  us,  akd  washed 
us  feom  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath 
made  us  kings  and  peiests  unto  god  and  his 
Father,  to  hem  ee  glory  and  dominion  for  eyer. 
Amen." 

Hath  it  been  in  our  power  to  have  handled  the 
poet's  style  and  measure,  we  might  more  fully 
have  expressed  our  emotions;  but  if  our  pen  be 
not  that  of  a  ready  writer,  at  least  our  heart  is 
inditing  a  good  matter.  We  close  by  an  interest- 
ing account  of  conYersion,  illustrating  its  intense 
darkness,  and  its  succeeding  unspeakable  light. 
It  is  an  extract  from  that  Yaluable  and  interesting 
biography,  entitled,  Struggles  for  Life.  After 
hearing  a  powerful  sermon,  ■  he  goes  home  much 
impressed  : — "  I  spoke  to  no  one,  and  did  not  dare 
to  lift  my  eyes  from  my  feet,  as  I  expected  the 
earth  to  open  and  swallow  me.  The  commotion 
of  my  soul  was  altogether  such  as  language  cannot 
^escribe.  I  crept  to  my  room,  locked  the  door, 
and  fell  upon  my  knees ;  but  no  words  came.  1 
could  not  pray.  The  perspiration  was  oozing  from 
eYcry  pore.  How  long  I  lay  on  my  knees  I  know 
not;  happily,  this  fearful  agony  of  mind  did  not 
last  long,  or  I  should  have  died.  Some  hours 
elapsed — hours  like  ages ;  in  which  I  felt  myself 
before  the  throne  of  righteous  judgment,  and  while 
the  process  was  going  on  I  was  dumb.     Had  the 


JESUS   PARDONING.  lYl 

salvation  of  my  soul  depended  npon  a  word,  I 
could  not  have  uttered  it.  But  he  who  had  smit- 
ten, graciously  healed.  As  if  they  had  been 
slowly  unfolded  before  me,  there  appeared  these 
never-to-be-forgotten  words: — 'The  blood  of  Jesijs 
Cueist  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin.' 

"  I  had  read  and  heard  these  wonderful  words 
often,  but  now  they  appeared  new  to  me.  I  gazed, 
believed,  loved,  and  embraced  them.  The  crisis 
was  past.  A  flood  of  tears  rushed  from  my  eyes  ; 
my  tongue  was  set  at  liberty.  I  prayed,  and  per- 
haps it  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  really 
did  pray. 

"  For  three  days  after  this  I  was  filled  with  inde- 
scribable joy.  I  thought  I  saw  heaven,  with  its 
blessed  inhabitants,  and  its  glorious  king.  I  thought 
he  was  looking  on  me  with  unutterable  compassion, 
and  that  I  recognised  Him  as  Jesus,  my  Saviour, 
who  had  laid  me  under  eternal  obligation.  The 
world  and  all  its  concerns,  appeared  utterly  worth- 
less. The  conduct  of  ungodly  men  filled  me  with 
grief  and  pity.  I  saw  everything  in  an  entirely 
new  light :  a  strong  desire  to  fly  to  heathen  lands, 
that  I  might  preach  the  good  news  to  idolaters, 
filled  my  heart.  I  longed  to  speak  about  the  grand 
discovery  I  had  made,  and  felt  assured  that  I  had 
but  to  open  my  lips  to  convince  every  one  of  the 
infinite  grace  of  Christ,  and  the  infinite  value  of 
salvation.     And  I  thought  my  troubles  over,  and 


172  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS   SAVIOIJK. 

that,  hencefortli,  the  same  scenes  of  joy  and  hal- 
lowed peace  were  to  pass  before  my  eyes,  and 
fill  my  heart." 

Such  feelings  are  not  the  lot  of  all  to  the  same 
degree  ;  but  an  exceedingly  large  proportion  of  the 
Lord's  redeemed  will  recognise  this  experience  as 
"  the  path  of  the  just ;"  and  some  who  read  will  re- 
joice to  see  here  a  fair  copy  of  their  inner  life  at 
this  very  moment. 

May  the  God  of  all  grace  bring  each  of  us  to  this 
fair  land  of  B^ulah,  this  palace  of  delights,  this 
chamber  of  bliss.     Amen. 


TO  THE   UNCONYEETED  EEADER. 


Feiend — Thou  art  amazed  at  tliis,  for  it  sounds 
like  a  wild  legend  or  fairy  tale.  Thou  knowest  no- 
thing of  such  joy ;  this  is  a  spring  from  which  thou 
hast  never  drawn  living  water.  How  much  dost 
thou  lose  by  thine  impenitence,  and  how  poor  are 
the  things  which  recompense  thy  loss  !  What  are 
thy  delights  but  bubbles  ?  what  thy  pleasure  but 
sweet  poisons  ?  and  what  thy  most  substantial  bliss 
but  a  deceptive,  illusive  vision  of  the  night  ?  Oh 
that  thou  wert  able  to  judge  between  genuine  and 
counterfeit,  real  and  fictitious  !  Sure  one  grain  of 
right  reason  would  teach  thee  the  superiority  of 
spiritual  joys  to  mere  carnal  excitements.  Thou  art 
not  so  far  bereft  of  judgment  as  to  put  any  one  of 
thine  high  carnival  days  in  competition  with  the 
time  of  pardoned  sin.  Thou  wilt  not  venture  to 
compare  thy  sweetest  w^ine  with  that  wine  of  hea- 
ven wdiich  flows  into  the  lips  of  the  sinner  who  is 
forgiven ;     nor   wilt   thou   bring   thy    music   into 

178 


174  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

rivalry  with  that  which  welcomes  the  returning 
prodigal.  Answer  these  two  questions,  we  beseech 
thee,  "What  cloth  it  profit  thee  to  sin  against  God  ? 
and.  What  shall  it  profit  thee,  at  last,  if  thon 
shouldst  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  thine  own 
soul?  Will  a  few  carnal  merriments  repay  thee 
for  unnumbered  woes?  Will  transient  sunlight 
make  amends  for  everlasting  darkness?  Will 
wealth,  or  honour,  or  ambition,  or  lust,  furnish  thee 
with  an  easy  pillow  when  thou  shalt  make  thy  bed 
in  hell  ?  In  hell  thou  shalt  be  if  thou  hast  not 
Christ.  Oh!  remember  God  is  just;  and,  because 
he  will  be  just,  PnEPAiiE  to  meet  thy  God  ! 


V. 

JOY.  AT   CONYERSION. 


■  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  us ;  whereof  we  are  glad." 
Ps.  cxxvi.  3. 


0-  love,  thou  bottomless  abyss ! 

My  sins  are  swallowed  up  in  thee  ; 

Covered  is  my  unrighteousness, 

Nor  spot  of  guilt  remains  on  me  ; 

While  Jesus'  blood,  through  earth  and  skies, 

Mercy,  free,  boundless  mercy  cries. 

With  faith  I  plunge  me  in  this  sea ; 

Here  is  my  hope,  my  joy,  my  rest} 

Hither  when  hell  assails  I  flee ; 

I  look  into  my  Saviour's  breast ; 
Away,  sad  doubt,  and  anxious  fear  1 

Mercy  is  all  that's  written  there. 

Fixed  on  this  ground  will  I  remain, 

Though  my  heart  fail,  and  flesh  decay ; 

This  anchor  shall  my  soul  sustain, 

When  earth's  foundations  melt  away, 

Mercy's  full  power  I  then  shall  prove, 

Loved  with  an  everlasting  love." 

1TB 


•176  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

He  who  dares  to  prescribe  one  imiform  standard 
of  experience  for  the  childron  of  God,  is  either 
grievously  ignorant  or  ho]3elessly  full  of  self-esteem. 
Facts  teach  us  that  in  the  highway  to  heaven  there 
are  many  paths,  not  all  erpially  near  to  the  middle 
of  the  road,  but  nevertheless  trodden  by  the  feet  of 
real  pilgrims.  Uniformity  is  not  God's  rule ;  in 
grace  as  well  as  providence  he  delights  to  display 
the  most  charming  variety.  In  the'  matter  of  con- 
version this  holds  good  of  its  attendant  rejoicing, 
for  all  do  not  alike  sing  aloud  the  same  rapturous 
song.  All  are  glad,  but  all  are  not  alike  so.  One 
is  quiet,  another  excitable  ;  one  is  constitutionally 
cheerful,  another  is  inclined  to  melancholy :  these 
will  necessarily  feel  diiierent  degrees  of  spiritual 
ecstasy,  and  will  have  their  own  peculiar  modes  of 
expressing  their  sense  of  peace  with  God. 

It  is  true,  God  usually  displays  unto  the  newly 
regenerate  much  of  the  riches  of  his  grace ;  but- 
there  are  many  who  must  be  content  to  wait  for 
this  till  a  future  period.  Though  he  dearly  loves 
every  penitent  soul,  yet  he  does  not  always  mani- 
fest that  love.  God  is  a  free  agent  to  work  where 
he  will  and  when  he  will,  and  to  reveal  his  love 
even  to  his  own  elect  in  his  own  chosen  seasons. 
One  of  the  best  of  the  Puritans  hath  wisely  written, 
"  God  oftentimes  works  grace  in  a  silent  and  secret 
way,  and  takes  sometimes  live,  sometimes  ten, 
sometimes  twenty  years — yea,  sometimes  more — 


JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  177 

before  lie  will  make  a  clear  and  satisfying  report 
of  his  own  work  upon  the  soul.  It  is  one  thing  for 
God  to  work  a  work  of  grace  npon  the  soul,  and 
another  thing  for  God  to  show  the  soul  that  work. 
Though  our  graces  are  our  best  jewels,  yet  they 
are  sometinaes  at  first  conversion  so  weak  and  im- 
perfect that  we  are  not  able  to  see  their  lustre." 
All  rules  have  exceptions;  so  we  find  there  are 
some  who  do  not  rejoice  with  this  joy  of  harvest, 
which  many  of  us  have  the  privilege  of  remem- 
bering. 

Let  none  conceive,  therefore,  that  we  think  om* 
book  to  be  an  infallible  map  from  which  none  will 
difier ;  on  the  contrary,  we  shall  feel  happy  if  it 
shall  suit  the  experience  of  even  a  few,  and  shall 
break  the  chains  of  any  who  are  enslaved  by  the 
system  of  spiritual  standards  set  np  by  certain  men 
against  whom  it  enters  its  earnest  protest.  Like 
the  tyrant  Procrustes,  some  classes  of  religionists 
measure  all  men  by  themselves,  and  insist  that  an 
inch  of  divergence  from  their  own  views  must 
entail  upon  us  present  and  eternal  severance  from 
those  whom  they  delight  to  speak  of  as  the  peculiar 
people,  who  through  much  tribulation  must  enter 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Thus  much  by  way  of 
caution  ;  we  now  proceed. 

The  style  of  our  last  chapter  scarcely  allowed  us 
to  ask  the  question,  Whence  this  happiness  ?  or  if 
it  suggested  itself,  we  were  too  much  in  haste  to 

8* 


178  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

express  our  gladness  to  reply  to  the  inquiry.  We 
will  now,  however,  sit  down  coolly  and  calmly  to 
review  the  causes  of  that  exceeding  great  joy ;  and, 
if  possible,  to  discover  God's  design  in  affording  us 
such  a  season  of  refreshing.  Those  w^ho  are  now 
mourning  the  loss  of  the  peaceful  hours,  sweet  still 
to  their  memory,  may  perhaps  be  cheered  by  the 
Ebenezers  then  erected,  and  by  them  may  be  guided 
again  to  the  Delectable  Mountains.  Great  Light 
of  the  soul,  illuminate  us  each  while  meditating  on 
thy  former  mercies ! 

I.  We  shall  discuss  the  causes  of  the  happiness 
which  usually  attends  a  sense  of  pardon.  The 
study  of  experience  is  one  far  more  calculated  to 
excite  our  admiration  of  the  wisdom,  love,  and 
power  of  God  than  the  most  profound  researches 
which  contemplate  only  the  wonders  of  nature  and 
art.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  master-minds  have 
not  arisen  who  could  reduce  a  science  so  eminently 
practical  and  useful  into  some  kind  of  order,  and 
render  it  as  rich  in  its  literature  as  the  science  of 
medicine  or  the  study  of  mind.  An  exceedingly 
valuable  volume  might  be  written  as  a  book  of 
spiritual  family  medicine  for  the  peoj)le  of  God, 
describing  each  of  the  diseases  to  which  the  saint 
is  subject,  with  its  cause,  symptoms,  and  cure  ;  and 
enumeratiug  the  stages  of  the  growth  of  the  healthy 
believer.     Such  a  compilation  would  be   exceed- 


JOY   AT   CONVEKSION.  179 

ingly  interesting,  and  its  value  could  scarcely  be 
estimated.  In  the  absence  of  such  a  guide,  let  us 
continue  our  musings  by  the  help  of  such  little  ex- 
perience as  we  may  have  acquired. 

1.  Among  the  many  things  which  contribute  to 
the  ravishing  sweetness  of  our  first  spiritual  joy, 
we  must  mention  the  case  wherein  it  found  us.  We 
were  condemned  by  God  and  by  our  conscience, 
and  harassed  by  fears  of  the  immediate  execution 
of  the  wrath  of  God  npon  us.  We  were  exercised, 
both  day  and  night,  by  sorrows  for  the  past  and 
forebodings  of  the  future ;  impending  destruction 
prevented  sleep,  and  the  sense  of  guilt  made  life  a 
burden.  '^  When,"  says  one,  '^  the  usual  labours 
of  the  day  required  that  I  should  sleep,  and  my 
body,  toiled  and  wasted  with  the  disquiet  of  my 
mind,  made  me  heavy,  and  urged  it  more,  yet  I 
was  afraid  to  close  my  eyes  lest  I  should  awaken  in 
hell ;  and  durst  not  let  myself  sleep  till  I  was  by  a 
weary  body  beguiled  into  it,  lest  I  should  drop  into 
the  pit  before  I  was  aware.  Was  it  any  wonder 
then  that  the  news  of  pardon  and  forgiveness  was 
sweet  to  one  in  such  a  case — whereby  I  was  made 
to  lie  down  in  safety,  and  take  quiet  rest,  while 
there  was  none  to  make  me  afraid  ?  '  For  so  He 
giveth  his  beloved  sleep.' "  *  It  is  but  natural  that 
rest  should  be  exceeding  sweet  after  such  a  period 

*  Halyburton.* 


180  THE    SAINT   AHD   HIS    SATIOUE. 

of  disquietude.  We  expect  tliat  the  sailor  will  ex- 
hibit his  joy  ill  no  ordinary  manner  when,  at  last, 
after  a  weary  and  tempestuous  voyage,  he  puts  his 
foot  upon  his  native  shore.  AYe  did  not  wonder 
when  we  heard  of  festivities  in  the  islands  of  the 
West  among  the  slaves  who  were  declared  free  for 
ever.  We  do  not  marvel  at  the  shouts  of  soldiers 
who  have  escaped  the  hundred  hands  of  death  in 
the  day  of  battle.  Shall  we  then  make  it  a  matter 
of  surprise  when  we  behold  justified  men  exulting 
in  their  liberty  in  Jesus,  and  their  escape  from  fear- 
ful perdition  ?  We  think  it  but  in  the  oi'dinary 
course  of  things  that  when,  like  the  Psalmist,  w^e 
have  received  answers  to  our  prayers,  we  should 
also  sing  like  him,  "  Come  and  hear,  all  ye  that  fear 
God,  and  I  will  declare  what  he  hath  done  for  my 
soul.  I  cried  unto  him  with  my  mouth,  and  he 
was  extolled  with  my  tongue.  I  will  go  into  thy 
house  with  burnt-offerings :  I  will  pay  thee  my 
vows,  which  my  lips  have  uttered,  and  my  mouth 
hath  spoken  when  I  wa^  in  trouble.  Thou  hast 
turned  for  me  my  mourning  into  dancing  :  thou 
hast  put  off  my  sackcloth,  and  girded  me  with 
gladness,  to  the  end  that  my  glory  may  sing  praise 
to  thee,  and  not  be  silent.  O  Lord  my  God,  I 
will  give  thanks  unto  thee  for  ever."  Men  put 
dark  colours  into  the  picture  to  make  the  lights 
more  apparent ;  and  God  nseth  our  black  griefs  to 
heighten  the  brightness  of  his  mercies.    The  weep- 


JOY   AT   CONVEKSION.  181 

ing  of  penitence  is  tlie  sowing  of  jewels  of  joy. 
The  poet"^  sang  in  another  sense  that  which  we 
may  well  quote  here — 

"And  precious  their  tears  as  that  rain  from  the  sky,f 
Which  turns  into  pearls  as  it  falls  in  the  sea." 

Spiritual  sorrow  is  the  architect  of  the  temple  of 
praise ;  or  at  least,  like  Hiram,  it  floateth  on  its 
seas  the  cedars  for  the  pillars  of  the  beautiful 
house.  To  appreciate  mercies  we  must  feel  miser- 
ies ;  to  value  deliverance  we  must  have  trembled 
at  the  approach  of  destruction.  Our  broken  chains 
make  line  instruments  of  music,  and  our  feet  just 
freed  from  fetters  move  right  swiftly,  dancing  to 
the  song :  we  must  be  glad  when  our  bondage  is 
yet  so  fresh  in  our  memory.  Israel  sang  loud 
enough  when,  in  the  sea  of  Egypt,  her  oppressors 
were  drowned,  because  she  knew  too  well  from 
what  a  thraldom  she  was  rescued.  Shushan  was 
glad,  and  rest  was  in  the  city,  when  the  Jews  had 
clean  escaped  from  the  wiles  of  Ilaman.  ISTo  Pu- 
rim  was  ever  kept  more  joyously  than  that  first 
one  when  the  gallows  were  still  standing,  and  the 
sons  of  the  evil  counsellor  yet  unburied.  We  may 
mourn  through  much  of  the  long  pilgrimage  to 
heaven,  but  the  first  day  is  dedicated  to  feasting, 

*  Moore. 

f  "  The  Nisan,  or  drops  of  spring-rain  which  the  Easterns  be- 
lieve to  produce  pearls  if  they  fall  into  shells." — Richardson. 


182  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOIJK. 

because  yesterday  was  spent  in  bondage.  Were  we 
always  mindful  of  the  place  from  whence  we  came 
out,  perhaps  we  should  be  always  rejoicing. 

2.  There  is  given  unto  us  at  this  period  a  pecu- 
liar outjpouring  of  grace  not  always  enjoyed  in  after 
days.  The  heart  is  broken — it  needs  soft  lini- 
ments wherewith  it  may  be  bound ;  it  hath  been 
wounded  by  the  robbers,  and  left  half  dead  upon 
the  road — it  is  meet  that  the  good  physician  should 
pour  in  oil  and  wines ;  it  is  faint — it  needs  a  cor- 
dial ;  it  is  weak — it  is  therefore  carried  in  the  bo- 
som of  love.  He  who  tempers  the  wind  to  the 
shorn  lamb  breathes  gently  on  the  new-born  child 
of  grace.  He  gives  it  milk — the  ready  prepared 
nutriment  of  heaven ;  he  lays  it  in  the  soft  cradle 
of  conscious  security,  and  sings  to  it  sweet  notes  of 
tender  love.  The  young  plant  receives  double 
attention  from  the  careful  gardener ;  so  do  the 
young  plants  of  grace  receive  a  double  portion  of 
sunlight  by  day,  and  of  the  dew  by  night. 

The  light  wherein  for  the  first  time  we  discover 
Christ  is  usually  clear  and  sparkling,  bringing  with 
it  a  warming  force  and  reviving  influence  to  which 
we  have  been  strangers  before.  Never  is  it  more 
truly  sweet  to  see  the  light,  or  a  more  pleasant 
thing  to  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun,  than  when  he 
shines  with  mild  and  benignant  rays  upon  our  first 
love.  Grace  then  is  grace  indeed ;  for  then  it 
efiectually  operates  on  us,  moving  us  to  hearty 


JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  183 

affection  and  burning  zeal,  while  it  absorbs  the  pas- 
sions in  one  object,  wrapping  ns  np  in  itself.  So 
rich  are  the  manifestations  of  Jesus  to  our  souls  at 
that  hour,  that  in  after  life  we  look  back  to  that 
time  as  "  the  days  of  our  espousals  ;"  so  ardent  are 
we  then  in  love  to  our  Lord,  that  in  succeeding 
years  we  are  often  compelled  to  ask  for  the  same 
grace,  desiring  only  that  it  may  be  with  us  as  in 
months  past. 

Thougli  our  bead  shall  be  anointed  witli  fresh 
oil  every  day  of  our  life,  yet  on  the  first  coronation 
morning  the  fullest  horn  is  emptied  upon  us.  A 
man  may  have  such  a  clear  and  glorious  revelation 
of  Christ  to  his  soul,  and  such  a  sense  of  his  union 
with  Jesus  on  that  beginning  of  days,  that  he  may 
not  have  the  like  all  his  life  after.  "  The  fatted 
calf  is  not  every  day  slain  ;  the  robe  of  kings  is  not 
every  day  put  on  ;  every  day  must  not  be  a  festival 
day  or  a  marriage  day  ;  the  wife  is  not  every  day 
in  the  bosom ;  the  child  is  not  every  day  in  the 
arms ;  the  friend  is  not  every  day  at  the  table ;  nor 
the  soul  every  day  under  the  manifestations  of 
Divine  love."*^  Jacob  only  once  saw  the  angels 
ascending  and  descending ;  Samuel  did  not  hear 
from  God  every  night.  We  do  not  read  that  the 
Lord  appeared  to  Solomon  save  that  once  in  vision. 
Paul  was  not  for  ever  in  the  third  heaven,  nor  was 

*  Brooks. 


184:  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

Jolin  in  the  Spirit  every  Lord's-daj.  Grace  is  at 
all  times  a  deep,  unfathomable  sea,  but  it  is  not 
always  at  flood-tide. 

When  we  are  going  to  our  Jesus  he  will  send 
waggons  to  fetch  us  to  his  own  country — he  will 
come  out  to  meet  us  in  great  pomp,  and  will  intro- 
duce us  to  the  king ;  but  vv^hen  we  are  safely  set- 
tled in  Goshen  he  will  love  us  equall;^,  but  it  may 
be  he  w^ill  not  make  so  great  a  point  of  honouring  us 
with  high  days  and  festivals.  Christ  will  array  liis 
chosen  ones  in  goodly  attire,  and  bind  flowers 
about  their  brows,  on  the  day  of  their  union  to  him  ; 
but,  perhaps,  to-morrow  he  may,  for  their  benefit 
and  his  glory,  "  plunge  them  into  the  ditch,  so  that  ^ 
their  own  clothes  shall  abhor  them."  It  may  be 
we  have  a  greater  sense  and  sight  of  grace  at  first 
than  we  do  afterwards,  and  this  is  the  reason  of  our 
greater  joy. 

3.  The  exceeding  value  of  the  things  revealed  na- 
turally produces  a  sense  of  unutterable  delight  when 
perceived  by  faith.  It  is  no  joy  at  a  fictitious  boon 
— but  the  benefit  is  real,  and  in  itself  of  a  nature 
calculated  to  excite  wonder  and  praise.  The  mer- 
cies received  are  discovered  to  be  inestimably  pre- 
cious, and  hence  there  springs  at  once  emotions  of 
joyous  gratitude.  He  would  scarce  be  of  a  sane 
mind  who  would  not  smile  upon  the  receipt  of  a 
treasure  which  would  free  him  from  heavy  liabili- 
ties, and  secure  him  an  abundant  provision  for  life. 


JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  185 

Wlien  the  naked  arc  clothed,  when  the  hungry  are 
fed,  and  when  beggars  are  elevated  from  dunghills 
to  thrones,  if  they  exhibit  no  signs  of  gladness,  they 
give  grave  cause  to  suspect  an  absence  of  reason. 
And  can  a  sinner  receive  a  royal  pardon,  a  princely 
robe,  a  promise  of  a  crown,  and  yet  remain  un- 
moved ?  Can  he  banish  hunger  at  the  King's  own 
table,  and  feel  the  embraces  of  his  reconciled  Mon- 
arch, and  restrain  his  joy  ?  Can  he  behold  himself 
adopted  into  the  family  of  God,  made  joint  heir 
with  Christ,  and  an  inheritor  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  and  still  behave  himself  coldly  ?  No !  he 
must — he  will  rejoice, — 

"  For  should  he  refuse  to  sing 
Sure  the  very  stones  would  speak." 

It  is  no  small  thing  to  receive  a  succession  of  mer- 
cies— all  priceless,  all  unmerited,  all  eternal,  and 
all  our  own.  Justification  in  itself  is  a  "joy  wortli 
worlds  ;"  but  when  its  attendants  are  seen  at  its 
heels,  we  can  only  say  with  the  Queen  of  Sheba, 
"  There  is  no  heart  left  in  me."  It  is  not  enough 
that  we  are  washed  and  clothed,  but  there  is  our 
Father's  banqueting  house  open  to  us — we  are 
feasted — we  hear  music — a  fair  crown  is  set  upon 
our  head,  and  we  are  made  kings  and  priests  unto 
our  God ;  and,  as  if  all  this  were  little,  he  gives  to 
us  himself,  and  makes  himself  our  Lord,  our  God. 
Can  a  mortal  become  possessor  of  Christ,  of  his 


186  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

person,  liis  attributes,  bis  all — and  can  lie  then  re- 
strain the  bliss  which  must  find  his  heart  a  vessel 
all  too  narrow  to  contain  it  ?  Surely  sweetness  is 
only  sweetness  when  we  discern  Hitn  as  our  ever- 
lasting Friend — ours  entirely,  ours  securely,  ours 
eternally. 

"  Known  and  unknown,  human,  divine ! 
Sweet  human  hand,  and  lips,  and  eye, 
Dear  heavenly  friend  thou  canst  not  die, 
Mine,  mine — for  ever,  ever  mine  !"  * 

Truly,  the  believer  might  be  excused  if  at  the  first 
recognition  of  the  Redeemer  as  his  own^  own 
Friend,  he  should  become  sick  of  love,  or  faint  with 
overflowing  happiness.  Rhoda  opened  not  the 
gate  for  gladness  when  she  heard  Peter's  voice ; 
who  shall  wonder  if  the  believing  penitent  should 
behave  like  one  who  is  in  a  dream,  and  should  lay 
himself  under  the  imputation  of  madness !  Con- 
ceive the  rapturous  delights  of  the  sailors  of  Colum- 
bus when  they  hailed  the  land,  or  their  beaming 
countenances  when  they  found  it  to  be  a  goodly 
country,  abounding  with  all  wealth ;  picture  the 
heroic  Greeks  when  from  the  mountain-tops  they  saw 
the  flood  which  waslied  their  native  shore,  and 
shouted — "The  sea!  the  sea!"  and  you  may  then 
look  on  another  scene  without  wonder — a  company 
of  pardoned  sinners,  singing  with  all  their  heart 

*  In  Memoriam. 


JOT   AT   CONVERSION.  187 

and  soul  and  strength  tlie  praise  of  One  who 
hath  done  great  things  for  them,  whereof  they  are 
glad. 

4.  At  this  season  the  sjpirit  lives  nearer  to  its 
God,  and  thus  it  dwells  nearer  heaven.  The  things 
of  the  world  have  less  power  to  charm  ns  w^hen  we 
have  but  lately  proved  their  vanity ;  the  ilesh  hath 
scarcely  ceased  to  smart  with  the  pain  caused  by 
the  burnings  of  sin,  and  we  are  the  more  afraid  of 
the  fire;  we  have  just  escaped  the  paw  of  the  lion 
and  the  jaw  of  the  bear,  and,  having  the  fear  of 
these  before  our  eyes,  we  walk  very  near  to  the 
Shepherd.  Bear  witness,  ye  saints  of  God,  to  the 
holy  dew^  of  your  youth,  for  which,  alas  !  you  now 
mourn.  Can  ye  not  remember  how  ye  walked 
with  God,  how  calm  was  your  frame,  how  heavenly 
your  spirit !  Ye  never  saw  the  face  of  man  when 
ye  left  your  chambers  till  ye  had  seen  the  face  of 
God ;  nor  did  ye  shut  your  eyes  in  slumber  on 
your  beds  till  ye  had  first  commended  your  spirit 
to  your  Father  in  heaveji.  How  artless  was  your 
simplicity  !  how  fervid  your  prayerfulness !  how 
watchful  your  daily  behaviour  !  What  a  marvel- 
lous tenderness  of  conscience  characterised  you  ! — 
you  trembled  to  put  one  foot  before  the  other^  lest 
you  should  offend  your  God  ;  you  avoided  the  very 
appearance  of  evil ;  you  were  moved  by  the  faint- 
est whispers  of  duty  ;  and  all  the  'while  what  a 
■quiet  state  of  repose  your  soul  did  swim  in,  and  how 


188  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

pleasantly  did  you  commune  with  heaven  !  Grace 
had  planted  an  Eden  around  you,  where  you 
walked  with  Jehovah  amid  the  trees  of  the  garden. 
You  were  like  Daniel  hy  the  river  Ulai — the  man's 
hand  was  on  your  shoulder,  and  his  voice  called 
you,  "  Man,  greatly  beloved."  You  drank  out  of 
your  Master's  cup,  and  fed  out  of  his  hand,  like  the 
poor  man's  ewe  lamb  in  N^athan's  parable.  Your 
eyes  were  up  unto  Him,  as  the  eyes  of  handmaidens 
to  their  mistresses  ;  nor  could  you  afford  the  vain, 
harlot  world  so  much  as  an  instant's  gaze.  In  the 
religious  shows  of  old  times  they  were  wont  to  re- 
present Meditation  as  a  fair  maiden,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  upon  a  book  which  she  was  intently  stu.dying  ; 
around  her  they  placed  young  boys,  dressed  a^ 
fairies,  demons,  or  harlequins,  who,  with  their 
dancing,  tricks,  jokes,  or  frightful  ho vdings,  sought 
to  divert  her  from  her  reading ;  but  she,  nothing 
moved,  still  continued  wholly  occupied  therewith : 
now  such  were  we  at  the  young  sj)ring-time  of  our 
piety,  when  w^e  were  first  consecrated  to  the  Lamb. 
"We  were  wholly  engrossed  with  Jesus,  and  nothing 
could  draw  us  from  him.  His  name  was  the  sum 
of  all  music  ;  his  person  the  perfection  of  all  beauty ; 
his  character  the  epitome  of  all  virtue  ;  himself  the 
total  sum  of  the  riches,  the  glory,  the  love  of  an 
entire  universe.  "  One  sweet  draught,  one  drop  of 
the  wine  of  consolation  from  the  hand  of  Jesus,  had 
made  our  stomachs  loathe  the  brown  bread  and  the 


JOY    AT    CONVEESION.  189 

sour  drink  of  tliis  miserable  life."  ^  We  were 
wholly  lost  in  admiring  him,  and  could  only  ask, 
"  Who  kuoweth  how  far  it  is  to  the  bottom  of  our 
Christ's  fulness  ?  who  ever  weighed  Christ  in 
scales?"  or,  "who  hath  seen  the  heights,  and  depths, 
and  lengths,  and  breadths  of  his  surpassing  love  ?" 
Here  is  one  grand  secret  of  our  greater  flight  of 
joy  at  that  time — we  had  then  more  wing  than  now, 
for  we  had  more  communion  with  God.  We  were 
living  on  high,  w^hile  men  lay  grovelling  below ; 
we  were  above  the  storms  and  tempests  then,  for 
we  had  entered  into  the  secret  place  of  the  taber- 
nacles of  the  Most  High.  We  bathed  our  brow  in 
the  sunlight  of  an  unclouded  sky,  standing  on  an 
eminence,  up  whose  lofty  sides  the  clouds  knew -not 
how  to  climb.  Did  we  live  nearer  to  our  Lord 
now,  we  should  beyond  a  doubt  enjoy  far  more  of 
the  cream  of  life,  and  know  less  of  its  wormwood. 
We  cannot  expect  to  have  the  same  enjoyment 
unless  we  be  occupied  in  the  same  employment. 
He  who  goes  away  from  the  fire  should  not  ask 
many  times  why  he  does  not  feel  the  same  heat. 
The  young  convert  is  in  a  holy  frame — he  is-most 
sure  to  be  in  a  happy  one.  Distance  from  God  is 
the  source  of  the  major  part  of  our  doubts,  fears, 
and  anxieties  ;  live  nearer  to  him,  and  we  shall  be 
all  the  further  from  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the 

* 

*  Rutherford. 


190  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUK. 

devil,  and  so  we  sliall  be  less  molested  by  tliem. 
We  cannot  make  the  sun  sliine,  but  we  can  remove 
from  that  which  may  cast  a  shadow  on  us.  Ee- 
move  then  thy  sins,  O  weak  believer,  and  thou 
mayest  hope  to  see  Him  yet  again ! 

5.  Immediately  after  conversion  we  are  emi- 
nently careful  to  itse  all  the  means  of  grace^  and 
therefore  we  derive  more  comfort  from  them  than 
in  after  years,  when  we  are  more  negligent  of  them. 
The  young  convert  is  to  be  seen  at  every  prayer 
meeting,  early  or  late ;  every  religious  service, 
even  though  it  be  at  a  considerable  distance,  finds 
him  as  an  attendant ;  the  Bible  is  seldom  closed, 
and  the  season  for  private  devotion  is  never 
neglected.  In  after  days  any  excuse  will  enable  us 
to  be  absent  from  Divine  service  with  an  easy 
conscience ;  but  then  it  would  have  been  a  high 
crime  and  misdemeanour  to  have  been  absent  at 
any  available  opportunity.  Hence  the  soul,  feed- 
ing much  on  heavenly  food,  waxeth  fat,  and 
knoweth  nothing  of  the  sorrows  of  the  hungry  one 
who  neglects  the  royal  table.  The  young  footman 
on  the  heavenly  race  exerts  all  his  strength  to  win 
the  race,  and  his  progress  is  thus  far  greater  at  first 
than  afterwards,  when  his  breath  a  little  fails  him, 
or  the  natural  slothfulness  of  the  flesh  induces  him 
to  shicken  his  pace.  Would  to  God  we  could 
maintain  the  speed  of  our  youth  !  we  should  then 
retain  its  comforts.      We  have  met  with  some  few 


JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  191 

of  tlie  eminently  liolj  who  liave  enjoyed  a  con- 
tinual feast  ever  since  the  day  of  their  espousals ; 
but  these  were  men  who  were  constantly  fervent  in 
spirit,  serving  their  Lord  with   a  diligent   heart. 
Why  should  it  not  be  so  with  many  more  of  us  ? 
John  Bunyan  hath  well   written,  "You  that  are 
old  professors,  take  you  heed  that  the  young  strip- 
lings of  Jesus,  that  began  to  strip  but  the  other  day, 
do  not  outrun  you,  so  as  to  have  that  Scripture  ful- 
filled on  you,  '  The  last  shall  be  first,  and  the  first 
last,'  which  will  be  a  shame  to  you  and  a  credit  to 
them.'*''^     Oh  !  that  we  were  as  obedient  now  as  we 
were  then  to  the  voice  of  the  Word  from  heaven, 
then  would  that  voice  be  more  sweet  to  our  ears, 
and  the  face  of  heaven  would  not  be  so  full  of 
frowns.     "  The  soul  of  the  diligent  shall  be  made 
fat,"  is  true  in  spiritual  matters  equally  with  tem- 
poral.    "  Give  diligence  to  make  your  calling  and 
election  sure  ,  for  if  ye  do  these  things,  ye  shall 
never  fall,  for  so  an  entrance  shall  be  administered 
to  you  abundantly  into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of 
our  Lord   and   Saviour   Jesus   Christ."     He  that 
would  be  rich  must  still  continue  his  heed  to  his 
flocks  and  his  herds.     It  is  not  one  venture  which 
maketh  the  soul  rich  ;  it  is  continued  perseverance 
in   the   business   of  salvation.     ISTone   but  lively, 
active  Christians  can  expect  to  feel  those  ravishing 

*  Heavenly  Footman. 


192  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

joys,  sweet  comforts,  and  blessed  delights  which 
^follow  at  the  heels  of  a  healthy  soul.  Stagnant 
water  never  sjDarkles  in  the  sun — it  is  the  flowing 
brook  w^hich  shines  like  a  vein  of  silver :  set  thy 
grace  at  work,  and  thy  joys  shall  marvellously 
increase.  If  our  bucket  be  empty,  we  had  better 
ask  ourselves  whether  it  might  not  be  full  again 
were  it  sent  down  into  the  well.  Truly,  a  neglect 
of  means  robs  us  of  much  consolation. 

6.  Novelty  no  doubt  had  some  hand  in  the  sin- 
gular feelings  of  that  joyous  season.  As  an  emi- 
nent saint  says,  "They  were  new  things,  wdiere- 
withal  I  was  utterly  unacquainted  before,  and  this 
made  them  the  more  affecting."  We  have  all  felt 
the  great  exciting  power  of  novelty  in  everyday- 
life,  and  the  same  influence  exerts  itself  upon  the 
inner  life  of  the  soul.  At  first,  pardon,  adoption, 
acceptance,  and  the  kindred  blessings,  are  new 
things,  and,  besides  their  owm  value,  have  the 
brightness  of  newdy-minded  mercies  to  recommend 
them  to  our  notice.  Prayer,  praise,  meditation, 
and  hearing  are  fresh  exercises  ;  and,  like  a  horse 
just  brought  to  his  labour,  we  are  in  haste  to  be 
engaged  in  them.  "  In  the  morning  of  life,  before 
its  w^earisome  journey,  the  youthful  soul  doth  ex- 
pand in  the  simple  luxuiy  of  being — it  hath  not 
contracted  its  wishes  nor  set  a  limit  to  its  hopes." 
The  morning  sun  is  shining  on  the  yet  glistening 
hedgerows,  and  the  dewdrops  are  all  pearls ;  the 


JOY    AT   CONVEESION.  193 

smoke  of  earth  liatli  not  yet  darkened  the  skies, 
and  they  are  one  pure  firmament  of  azure.  There 
is  more  than  a  little  of  the  Athenian  in  every  man  ; 
there  is  not  one  of  ns  who  is  not  charmed  by  some- 
thing which  has  but  lately  come  to  the  light  of 
observation.  True,  we  shall  find  the  glories  of  the 
cross  as  marvellous  in  after  years  as  they  are  now, 
but  now  they  are  so  startling  to  ns  that  we  cannot 
but  feel  astonishment  and  wonder.  As  he  who  after 
a  life  of  blindness  at  the  first  sight  of  the  stars  would 
naturally  lift  up  his  hands  in  amazement,  so  doth 
the  man  from  whose  spiritual,  eye  the  film  hath 
been  removed,  exult  in  his  first  vision  of  the  hea- 
venly gifts  of  God.  JSTever  is  the  rose  more  lovely 
than  in  its  bud ;  so  grace  is  never  more  graceful 
than  in  its  beginnings.  The  young  lambs  frisk  in 
the  fields — they  will  assume  a  steadier  gait  when 
they  become  "  the  sheep  of  the  pasture;"  but  till 
then  let  them  show  their  joy,  for  it  is  the  necessary 
conseqnence  of  their  new-created  being. 

7.  We  are  inclined  to  believe  that  the  most  com- 
mon cause  is  the  fact  that,  at  first  conversion^  the 
soul  relies  more  simply  %ijpon  Christy  and  looJcs  more 
attentively  at  him  than  it  does  in  after  days^  when 
evidences,  good  works,  and  graces,  become  more 
an  object  of  regard  than  the  person  of  Jesus.  When 
the  glorious  Redeemer  finds  us  lost  and'  ruined  in 
the  fiill — when  he  makes  us  deejoly  conscious  of 
that  ruin — then  we  take  him,  and  him  alone,  fox 


194  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

our  treasure ;  but  in  future  years  lie  gives  to  us 
sundry  rings,  jewels,  and  ornaments,  as  love-tokens 
— and  we  most  foolishly  set  our  eyes  more  upon 
these  than  upon  the  Giver,  and  consequently  lose 
much  of  the  cheering  effect  of  a  constant  view  of 
the  Saviour.  At  the  first  time  of  love  we  are  too 
weak  to  venture  on  our  own  feet,  but  cling  with 
both  our  arms  around  the  neck  of  Jesus  ;  there  we 
find  an  easy  carriage,  which  we  lose  when  our 
overweening  pride  constrains  him  to  set  us  on  the 
ground  to  run  alone.  He  who  hath  a  speck  in  the 
eye  of  his  faith,  obscuring  his  vision  of  the  Saviour, 
will  find  much  pain  resulting  therefrom.  That 
which  removes  us  from  the  simplicity  of  our  faith 
in  Christ,  although  it  be  in  itself  most  excellent,  yet 
to  us  becomes  a  curse.  Many  of  us  might  be  wil- 
ling to  renounce  all  our  experience,  our  graces,  and 
our  evidences,  if  we  might  but  return  to  the  former 
childlike  faith  of  our  spiritual  infancy.  To  lie 
quietly  afloat  on  the  stream  of  free  grace  is  the 
very  glory  of  existence,  the  perfection  of  earthly 
happiness. 

'No  seat  is  so  pleasant  as  that  which  is  beneath 
the  shadow  of  Jesus.  "We  may  fetch  our  spices 
from  afar,  but  they  shall  yield  no  such  fragrance  as 
that  which  is  shed  from  the  robes  of  the  all-glorious 
Emmanuel,  of  whom  it  is  written,  "  All  thy  gar- 
ments smell  of  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia." 
Whatsoever  spiritual  joy  we  have  which  springs 


JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  195 

not  from  Christ  as  tlie  Fountain,  we  shall  find  it 
sooner  or  later  bitter  to  our  taste.  The  young  con- 
vert is  happy  because  he  drinks  only  from  Jesus, 
and  is  yet  too  full  of  infirmity  to  attempt  the  hew- 
ing of  a  cistern  for  liimself. 

K  we  be  unfaithful  to  Christ,  we  must  not  ex- 
pect many  of  his  smiles.  It  matters  little  what  is 
the  object  of  our  delight,  be  it  never  so  lovely,  if 
it  become  a  rival  of  Jesus,  he  is  grieved  thereby, 
and  makes  us  mourn  his  absence.  "  When  we 
make  creatures,  or  creature-comforts,  or  anything 
whatever  but  what  we  receive  by  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,  to  be  our  joy  and  our  delight,  we  are* false 
to  Christ."*  He  gave  himself  wholly  for  us,  and 
he  thinks  it  ill  that  will  not  give  him  sole  posses- 
sion of  our  heart.  Jesus,  like  his  Father,  is  a  jea- 
lous God — he  will  not  brook  a  rival.  He  will  have 
us  rejoice  only  in  His  love,  hearken  only  to  His 
voice,  and  keep  our  eyes  constantly  on  him,  and 
him  only.  Beyond  a  doubt,  were  we  in  constant 
fellowship  with  our  loving  Redeemer,  we  might 
always  retain  a  measure,  if  not  the  entire  fulness, 
of  our  early  joy ;  and  did  we  labour  to  improve  in 
our  acquaintance  with  him,  and  our  devotion  to 
him,  our  joy  might  possibly  increase  to  an  indefi- 
nite degree,  until  our  tabernacle  on  earth  would  be 
like  a  house  built  upon  the  wall  of  heaven,  or  at 


Owen. 


108  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    8AYI0UR. 

least  ill  the  suburbs  of  tlie  city  of  God.  It  is  no 
wonder  tbat  so  many  lose  tbeir  first  joy  when  we 
remember  how  many  lose  their  first  love.  "  It  may 
be,"  saith  a  holy  Puritan  to  the  doubtiag  soul,  "  it 
may  be,  if  thou  hadst  minded  and  endeavoured 
more  after  community  with  God  and  conformity  to 
God,  thou  mightest  at  this  time  have  looked  up- 
ward, and  seen  God  in  Christ  smiling  upon  thee, 
and  have  looked  inward  into  thy  soul,  and  seen 
the  Spirit  of  grace  witnessing  to  thy  spirit  that 
thou  wert  a  son,  an  heir,  an  heir  of  God,  and  a 
joint-heir  with  Christ.  But  thou  hast  minded  more 
thine  own  comfort  than  Christ's  honour ;  thou  hast 
minded  the  blossoms  and  the  fruit  more  than 
Christ,  the  Root ;  thou  hast  minded  the  springs  of 
comfort  more  than  Christ,  the  Fountain  of  life ; 
thou  hast  minded  the  beams  of  the  sun  more  than 
the  Sun  of  righteousness  :  and,  therefore,  it  is  a 
righteous  thing  with  God  to  leave  thee  to  walk  in 
a  valley  of  darkness,  to  hide  his  face  from  thee, 
and  to  seem  to  be  as  an  enemy  to  thee."  Let  us 
labour  then  to  keep  our  eye  single,  so  shall  our 
whole  body  be  full  of  light — light  cheering  and  de- 
lightful beyond  what  we  can  even  dream.  It  is 
quite  impossible  to  define  the  limit  of  the  happi- 
ness mortals  may  experience  in  the  condescending 
company  of  a  gracious  Saviour ;  let  us  each  seek 
to  soar  into  the  loftiest  air,  that  we  may  prove  wliat 
is  the  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.     Certain 


JOY    AT    CONVEllSION.  197 

it  is  that  faith  is  the  .golden  pipe  which  conducts 
the  living  waters  of  the  mount  of  God  to  the  pil- 
grim sons  of  Jehovah.  Let  us  keep  the  course  un- 
obstructed, and  w^e  maj  hope  to  drink  deep 
draughts  of  true  delight. 

It  cannot  be  supposed  that  we  hav^e  enumerated 
more  than  a  small  proportion  of  the  causes  of  this 
spiritual  phenomenon ;  the  rest  lie  beyond  the 
winter's  limited  experience,  or  do  not  at  this  mo- 
ment suggest  themselves.  These,  perhaps,  are  the 
most  frequent,  and  consequently  the  most  appa- 
rent. 

Should  w^e  have  a  reader  w^ho  has  lost  his  first 
love,  it  may  be  he  will,  by  these  suggestions,  be 
able  to  detect  the  secret  robber  who  has  stolen  his 
substance.  If  so,  we  beseech  him,  as  he  loves  his 
owm  soul,  to  be  in  earnest  to  remedy  the  evil  by 
driving  out  the  insidious  enemy.  O  spirit  of  God, 
restore  unto  us  each  "  the  years  wdiich  the  locust 
has  eaten !" 

II.  We  shall  now  endeavour  to  discover  the 
designs  of  our  heavenly  Father  in  thus  favouring 
us  on  that  happy  day  of  conversion.  These  are 
many,  and  most  of  them  unknown:  we  must, 
therefore,  be  content  to  behold  some  of  them; 
and  may  the  contemplation  excite  wonder,  grati- 
tude, and  love. 

1 .  Doubtless  our  Lord  woidd  have  ns  ever  remern- 


198  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

ler  that  day,  and  regard  it  with  an  especial  interest ; 
therefore  did  he  crown  it  with  loving  kindness  and 
tender  mercies.  It  w^as  a  birth-day — he  distin- 
guished it  with  festivities ;  it  was  a  marriage-day 
— he  celebrated  it  with  mnsic ;  it  was  a  resurrec- 
tion— he  did  attend  it  with  joyful  sound  of  trum- 
pet. He  illuminated  that  page  of  our  biography 
that  we  might  refer  to  it  with  ease.  It  was  a  high 
day,  and  he  made  it  high  in  our  esteem  by  the 
marvellous  grace  which  he  displayed  towards  us. 
At  the  signing  of  Magna  Charta,  if  on  no  other 
occasion,  the  king  and  his  courtiers  would  array 
themselves  in  all  their  dazzling  robes  and  glitter- 
ing jewels  ;  surely  it  is  not  unbecoming  even  in  the 
majesty  of  heaven  to  reveal  something  of  its  glo- 
ries when  making  peace  with  rebels.  The  black 
caj)  is  but  the  fitting  accompaniment  of  the  sen- 
tence of  death  ;  why  should  it  be  thought  unseemly 
that  garments  of  praise  should  be  displayed  on  the 
day  of  acquittal  ?  In  heaven  there  is  held  a  solemn 
festival  when  heirs  of  glory  are  begotten,  and  the 
heart  of  Jesus  rejoices  over  the  recovery  of  his  lost 
sheep :  we  need  not  wonder  that  the  cause  of  such 
sublime  delights  is  himself  made  a  sharer  in  them. 
Men  strike  medals  to  commemorate  great  national 
successes ;  should  it  be  considered  a  strange  thing 
that  Jesus  giveth  tokens  to  his  people  in  the  day 
of  their  salvation  ?  "We  are  but  too  little  mindful  of 
the  benefits  of  the  Lord ;  he  doth  therefore  mark 


JOY    AT    CONVERSION.  199 

this  day  of  tlie  calendar  in  golden  letters,  that  we 
may  be  compelled  to  remembrance. 

It  can  never  happen  to  ns  again  :  we  are  regen- 
erated for  all — saved  in  a  moment  from  sin  and  its 
consequences ;  it  is  meet  that  we  should  make 
merry  and  be  glad,  for  the  dead  are  alive,  and  the 
lost  are  found.  The  peace  has  just  now  been  wel- 
comed with  illuminations  and  with  national  festivi- 
ties ;  sliall  the  eternal  peace  between  heaven  and 
the  soul  be  unattended  with  rejoicings  ?  The 
greater  the  occasion,  the  more  proj^er  is  its  remem- 
brance— and  what  can  be  a  happier  event  to  us 
than  our  salvation  ?  therefore  let  it  be  had  in  per- 
petual remembrance,  and  let  "  all  kinds  of  music  " 
unite  to  sound  its  praise.  Some  among  us  honour 
the  anniversary  of  the  building  of  the  house  of  the 
Lord  ;  but  far  more  do  we  delight  in  the  returning 
day  which  saw  us  i)laced  as  living  stones  in  the  tem- 
ple of  Jesus.  Bless  the  Lord,  O  our  souls,  who  hath 
forgiven  all  our  iniquities  and  healed  all  our  diseases ! 

2.  Our  wise  and  loving  Lord  graciously  designed 
to  give  us  something  which  might  in  all  after  trials 
le  a  sioeet  staying  to  the  soul  when  a  present  sense 
of  his  love  should  he  absent.  How  often  have  we 
been  enabled  to  recover  confidence  in  the  day  of 
our  infirmity,  by  remembering  "  the  years  of  the 
right  hand  of  the  Most  High  !"  *    David,  when  his 

*  Ps.  Ixxvii.  10. 


200  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

'soul  refused  to  be  comforted,  found  it  good  "  to  con- 
sider tlie  days  of  old,"  and  to  reliearse  liis  former 
"  song  in  tlie  niglit."  He  declares  that  his  ''  spirit 
made  diligent  search," — meaning  that  he  turned 
over  the  register  ^nd  records  of  God's  former  mer- 
cies, in  order  that  some  record,  still  extant,  might 
help  him  in  his  need.  When  the  heir  of  heaven  is 
in  doubt  as  to  his  inheritance  among  them  that  are 
sanctified,  it  affords  no  small  degree  of  assurance 
to  be  able  to  turn  to  the  birth-day  register,  and 
read  "  of  Zion  it  is  said  this  man  was  born  there ;" 
this  decides  the  case  at  once  in  our  favour.  In 
times  of  contention,  when  we  "see  not  our  signs," 
we  shall  find  it  eminently  comfortable  to  look  back 
to  the  consecrated  hour  which  witnessed  our  ac- 
ceptance in  the  beloved,  for  so  shall  we  again  be 
able  to  assure  ourselves  of  our  election  by  a  remem- 
brance of  our  calling. 

We  at  times  should  have  had  no  heart  for  song 
if  we  had  not  found  our  harj)  already  tuned,  having 
not  yet  become  unstrung  since  the  hour  of  high 
festivity  in  the  halls  of  bounty.  Some  despise 
Ebenezers,  and  talk  slightingly  of  the  hope  which 
issues  from  them ;  but  persons  can  scarcely  have 
had  more  than  a  superficial  experience,  or  they 
would  have  learned  far  better. 

The  future  would  lie  for  ever  in  obscurity  if  we 
did  not  borrow  a  lamp  from  the  hand  of  the  past 
to  cheer  the  gloom,  and  show  where  a  sure  foot- 


JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  201 

hold  is  to  be  found.  This,  then,  is  God's  design  m 
lighting  lip  the  hill  Mizar  of  onr  first  conversion, 
that  it  may  cast  a  light,  like  Malvern's  watcli-fire, 
for  many  a  mile  beyond. 

A  pleasant  anecdote  is  told  of  Mr.  Kidd,  once 
minister  of  Queensferry,  near  Edinburgh.  He  was 
one  day  very  much  depressed  and  discouraged,  for 
want  of  that  comfort  which  is  produced  by  simple 
faith  in  Jesus.     He  therefore  sent  a  note  to  Mr. 

L ,  the  minister  of  Culross,  requesting  a  visit 

from  him,  that  a  brother's  help  might  lift  him  out 
of  his    Slough  of  Despond.     When    the   servant 

arrived  at  Culross,  Mr.  L told  him  that  he  was 

too  bnsy  to  wait  upon  his  master,  but  he  was 
charged  to  deliver  these  words  to  him — "  Rememr 
lev  TonooodP''  The  man,  like  Jonathan's  lad, 
knew  nothing  of  the  matter,  but  Mr.  Kidd  under- 
stood it  well,  for  at  Torwood  he  had  received  mani- 
festations of  Jesus.  Upon  being  reminded  thereof, 
his  darkness  vanished,  and  he  joyfully  cried  out, 
*'  Yes,  Lord  !  I  will  remember  Thee^  from  the  hill 
Mizar,  and  from  the  Hermonites  !"  It  may  be  that 
in  periods  of  gloom  and  distraction,  that  place, 
that  spot  of  ground  where  Jesus  met  with  ns  for  the 
first  time,  will  prove  a  very  Bethel  to  our  spirits. 
Here  is  wisdom  in  this  day  of  joy,  let  him  that 
knoweth  it  be  thankful. 

3.  We  had  suffered  so  much  in  the  time  of  con- 
motion    that    we    needed    much    tenderness^    and 


202  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

therefore  He  gave  it  to  us.  There  was  no  small 
fear  lest  we  should  be  swallowed  up  of  sorrow,  and 
die  under  the  pangs  and  throes  of  the  new  birth, 
therefore  did  he  tend  us  with  the  carefulness  of  a 
mother,  and  watch  over  uS  with  abundant  compas- 
sions. Like  a  sailor  snatched  from  the  deep,  we 
were  ready  to  perish,  and  should  have  expired  in 
our  deliverer's  arms  had  he  not  used  the  most  com- 
passionate arts  to  restore  us  to  life.  We  were  sore 
broken  and  wounded,  therefore  did  he  place  us  in 
an  infirmary  on  the  hills  of  Delight,  where  he 
made  all  our  bed  in  our  sickness,  poured  out  his 
best  wine  with. his  own  hand,  fed  us  with  royal 
dainties,  and  all  the  while  did  watch  us,  lest  any 
should  disturb  our  rest.  When  we  become  some- 
what stronger,  he  leaves  us  to  share  with  our  fel- 
low-soldiers in  the  camp,  whose  rations  are  not 
quite  so  full  of  marrow  and  fatness. 

The  wise  shepherds  said  to  the  pilgrim  band, 
"  Come  in,  Mr.  Feeblemind  ;  come  in,  Mr.  Ready- 
to-halt;  come  in,  Mr.  Despondency  and  Mrs.  Much- 
afraid,  his  daughter."  These  were  called  by  name 
because  of  their  weakness,  while  the  stronger  sort 
were  left  to  their  own  liberty.  So  also  at  their 
feast  they  made  the  viands  suitable  to  the  condi- 
tion of  the  tender  ones,  "  of  things  easy  of  diges- 
tion, and  that  were  pleasant  to  the  palate,  and 
nourishing."  Many  of  the  promises  are  made  spe- 
cially for  the  feeble  among  the  Lord's  flock,  to  be- 


JOY    AT   CONVERSION.  203 

heavenly  amhiolances  for  the  wounded.  "When 
grace  is  yoniig,  and  as  yet  but  a  spark,  the  kind 
hand  of  the  Lord  j)reserves  it  from  the  rough  wind, 
and  his  own  warm  breath  fans  it  to  a  flame.  He 
doth  not  dehver  the  soul  of  his  turtle-dove  into  the 
hand  of  its  enemies,  but  for  a  while  houseth  it  in 
the  rock,  or  carrieth  it  in  his  hand.  The  tender 
plant  of  grace  is  covered  all  the  day  long,  watered 
every  moment,  protected  from  the  frost,  and  fos- 
tered in  the  warm  air  of  communion  and  endear- 
ing fellowship.  It  should  be  accepted  as  a  conclu- 
sive proof  of  the  wisdom  and  prudence  of  our 
gracious  God,  that  he  sendeth  the  soft  and  refresh- 
ing showers  upon  the  new-mown  grass,  and  in  that 
blessed  manner  effaces  all  the  ill  effects  of  the 
severe  discipline  of  conviction.  "  If,"  says  Austin, 
"  one  drop  of  the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost  should  fall 
into  hell,  it  would  swallow  up  all  the  torments  of 
hell ;"  assuredly  it  soon  removes  all  the  sadness 
produced  by  pains  of  repentance. 

4.  The  journey  'before  us  was  exceeding  long^ 
therefore  did  he  refresh  us  before  he  sent  us  on  our 
way.  Elijah  was  made  to  eat  once  and  again  be- 
fore his  forty  days  of  travelling — so  must  the  spirit 
be  refreshed  before  it  sets  out  on  its  long  pilgrim- 
age. Jesus,  in  this  hour  of  heaven,  drops  such 
tokens  of  love  into  the  hands  of  his  children  that 
in  after  days  they  may  recruit  their  strength  by 
looking  upon  the  heavenly  earnest.     The  smiles, 


204  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

embraces,  and  assurances  of  that  hour  put  spirit 
and  mettle  into  the  Christian  warrior,  enabling  him 
to  bid  defiance  to  the  stoutest  enemies,  and  brave 
the  greatest  dangers.  Before  fighting,  feasting. 
The  angels  met  Jacob  at  Mahanaim  before  he  heard 
of  Esau's  threatening  approach.  Paul  was  caught' 
up  into  the  third  heaven  before  he  was  buffeted  bj 
the  messenger  of  Satan.  There  should  be  cheering 
words  at  the  buckling  on  of  the  harness,  for  they 
will  all  be  wanted  bj-and-by.  God  filleth  the  be- 
liever's bottle  full  when  he  starteth,  for  he  hath  a 
wide  desert  to  traverse,  a  thirsty  heart  to  carry, 
and  few  wells  on  the  road.  Although  grace,  like 
manna,  must  descend  day  by  day — yet  comforts, 
like  the  quails,  come  only  at  seasons,  and  we  must 
gather  enough  at  those  times  to  last  us  many  days. 
It  is  certain  that  the  delights  of  the  past  afford  the 
readiest  means  for  exciting  pleasure  in  the  present, 
we  carry  from  the  fires  of  yesterday  burning  coals 
for  the  kindling  of  to-day.  The  ship  hath  more 
provisions  on  board  when  it  starts  upon  its  voyage 
than  it  is  likely  to  have  in  a  few  weeks,  and  it  then 
showeth  all  its  flags  and  streamers  which  must  soon 
be  fnrled,  and  the  canvas  will  be  spread,  which, 
though  more  useful,  is  not  so  glorious  for  show. 
The  remembrance  of  tlie  happy  shore,  and  the  gai- 
ety of  the  departure,  will,  support  the  spirit  of  the 
mariners  when  storms  assail  them,  and  the  comforts 
then  placed  on  board  will  be  found  none  too  many 


JOY    AT    CONVEESION.  205 

for  the  greatness  of  their  toil  upon  the  wide  and 
stormy  sea.  Gnrnal  says  that  past  experiences  are 
like  cold  dishes  reserved  at  a  feast,  from  which  the 
child  of  God  can  make  a  hearty  meal  when  there 
is  nothing  else  on  the  table  ;  and  when  we  consider 
how  long  a  time  has  sometimes  elapsed  between 
one  banquet  and  another,  it  is  donbtless  intended 
that  we  should  set  aside  an  abundant  provision 
from  the  well-spread  table  which  fm-nishes  the 
feast  of  the  penitent's  reception.  Take  thy  first 
joys,'  O  little  faith,  and  drink  full  draughts  of  cor- 
dial from  them. 

5.  By  the  joy  of  his  right  hand^  Hexmt  to  flight 
OUT  hard  thoughts  of  him.  Deceived  by  the  out- 
ward appearance,  we  thought  his  chastenings  un- 
kind ;  we  attributed  his  wounds  to  cruelty  and  en- 
mity ;  nor  could  our  mistake  be  corrected  until  He 
displayed  the  richness  of  his  love  in  the  most  comj^as- 
sionate  way — by  restoring  our  soul  and  renewing 
our  strength.  Oh  !  what  a  death-blow  was  his  love 
to  all  our  unkind  thoughts  of  him ;  how  were  we 
ashamed  to  look  at  the  dear  friend  whom  we  had 
so  basely  slandered  !  We  saw  it  all  then,  clear  as 
noonday,  and  wept  at  the  recollection  of  our  pre- 
mature judgment  and  rash  surmises.  The  Lord 
soon  changed  our  thoughts  concerning  his  dealings. 
We  said,  "  It  is  enough  ;  these  things  are  not 
against  me  :  surely  goodness  and  mercy  shall  fol- 
low me  all  the  days  of  my  life." 


206  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

We  mio'lit  to  tliis  hour  have  been  mindful  of  our 
agonies,  if  the  succeeding  joy  had  not  obliterated 
all ;  so  that,  like  the  woman  after  her  deliverance, 
"  we  remember  no  more  the  travail  "  for  joy  at  the 
result.  If  we  had  only  felt  the  sore  woundings  of 
his  arm,  and  had  never  had  a  look  at  his  sw^eet 
loving  face,  we  might  have  written  hard  things 
against  God  as  well  as  against  ourselves  ;  but  now 
that  he  visiteth  us  in  mercy,  we  gladly  confess, 
^'Thou  hast  dealt  well  with  thy  servant,  O  Lord, 
according  unto  thy  word."  "When  reaping  the 
fruit  of  that  rough  sowing,  we  repent  most  truly  of 
the  impatience  and  unbelief  which  dared  to  lie 
against  the  Lord,  and  accuse  him  of  unkindness. 
We  retracted  every  word,  and  would  have  washed 
those  feet  with  tears  which  we  had  bespattered 
with  our  vile  suspicions,  and  kissed  away  every 
stain  which  our  unbelief  had  put  upon  his  pure,  un- 
mingled  love. 

6.  This  cheering  manifestation  of  mercy  made 
us  full  of  love  to  the  good  ways  of  holiness^  which 
we  then  found  to  be  exceedingly  pleasant.  Hence- 
forth we  believe  and  know  the  king's  highway  to 
be  a  path  of  peace ;  and  when  at  any  time  we  lose 
the  happiness  once  enjoyed,  we  look  back  to  the 
time  of  love,  and  remembering  how  sweet  was  the 
service  of  Jesus,  we  march  forward  with  renewed 
vigour.  We  had  heard  the  vile  calumny  that  reli- 
gion was  a  thing  of  misery  and  sadness,  and  that 


JOY    AT   CONVEKSION.  207 

its  followers  were  the  companions  of  owls  and 
lovers  of  lamentation ;  but  the  jubilant  nature  of 
our  reception  into  the  house  of  the  saints  laid  bare 
the  slauder,  and  discovered  the  reverse  of  our 
gloomy  apprehensions.  We  thought  that  glens, 
ravines,  wilderu esses,  clouds,  tempests,  lions,  dra- 
gons, and  all  kind  of  horrid  things,  were  the  sum- 
total  of  Christian  experience  ;  but  instead  thereof 
we  were  "  led  forth  with  peace  ;"  where  we  feared 
a  wilderness  we  found  a  Sharon,  and  the  oil  of  joy 
w^s  given  us  instead  of  the  expected  mourning. 

"We  labour  now  to  exhibit  cheerfulness,  since  we 
firmly  believe  that  this  recommends  the  w^ay  to  the 
wavering,  and  is  the  true  method  of  honouring 
the  God  of  all  consolation.  ^'  This  world  is  a  howl- 
ing wilderness  to  those  alone  who  go  howling 
through  it ;"  but — 

"  The  men  of  grace  have  found 
Glory  begun  below  ; 
Celestial  fruits,  on  earthly  ground, 
From  faith  and  hope  may  grow." 

He  who  afiirms  that  godliness  is  gloominess 
knoweth  not  wliat  he  saith.  The  Lord  desireth  to 
teach  us,  at  the  very  beginning  of  our  Christian 
career,  that  he  would  have  us  be  happy,  happy 
only  in  himself.  He  makes  us  glad  when  we  are 
but  beginners,  and  little  in  Israel,  that  we  may  see 
that  we  can  be  made  blessed  by  simple  faith,  with- 


208  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

out  any  other  assistance.  "  Cliristians  might  avoid 
much  trouble,"  says  Dr.  Pajson,  "  if  they  would 
only  believe  what  they  profess — that  God  is  able 
to  make  them  happy  without  anything  else.  They 
imagine,  if  such  a  dear  friend  were  to  die,  or  such 
and  such  blessings  to  be  removed,  they  should  be 
miserable ;  whereas,  God  can  make  them  a  thou- 
sand times  happier  without  them.  To  mention  my 
own  case — God  has  been  depriving  me  of  one  bles- 
sing after  another ;  but  as  every  one  has  been  re- 
moved, he  has  come  in  and  filled  up  its  place  ;%nd 
now,  when  I  am  a  cripple,  and  not  able  to  move,  I 
am  happier  than  ever  I  was  in  my  life  before,  or 
ever  expected  to  be ;  and  if  I  had  believed  this 
twenty  years  ago,  I  might  have  been  spared  much 
anxiety."  This  is  the  very  thing  our  very  gracious 
Jesus  would  teach  us,  if  we  were  not  so  slow  to 
learn ;  for,  in  the  very  first  dawning  of  life,  when 
graces  and  virtues  are  not  yet  developed,  he  makes 
himself  so  precious  that  we  may  know  that  he 
alone  is  the  fountain  of  delights,  and  the  very  soul 
of  rejoicing.  He  puts  into  us  a  constant  love  to  his 
ways,  by  that  delightful  advent  which  he  gives  us 
at  the  very  first  step  we  take  therein.  It  is  of  no 
use  for  the  infidel  to  tell  us  our  course  will  not  end 
in  bliss — it  began  with  it,  and  we  are  compelled  to 
believe  that,  if  the  same  Jesus  be  Alpha  and 
Omega  too,  the  end  must  be  eternal  happiness. 
7.  We  may  also  regard  these  great  delights  as 


JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  209 

earnests  of  the  future  lUss  of  the  righteous.  A 
pledge  assures  the  wavering,  and  confirms  the 
weak  ;  wisdom,  therefore,  bestows  the  earnest  u2:>on 
the  joimg  believer  that  he  may  be  rendered  confi- 
dent of  ultimate  felicity.  During  onr  progress  to 
the  celestial  city,  our  Lord,  is  pleased  to  refresh  our 
souls  with  sundry  "  drops  of  heaven,"  as  the  fore- 
taste of  that  glorious  rest  which  remains  for  his 
people,  and  this  early  joy  is  the  first  of  a  series  of 
antepasts  of  heaven  which  we  hope  to  receive 
while  sojourning  below.  It  is,  so  to  speak,  the 
enlisting  money  wherewith  the  young  recruit  is 
pledged  to  the  king's  service,  and  assured  of  his 
bounty. 

The  A230stle  Paul  tells  us  that  the  holy  spirit  of 
promise  is  the  earnest  of  our  inheritance.  "  The 
original  word,  appa(3G)v,  seems  proj)erly  to  denote 
the  first  part  of  the  price  that  is  paid  in  any  con- 
tract as  an  earnest  and  security  of  the  remainder, 
and  which  therefore  is  not  taken  back,  but  kept  till 
the  residue  is  paid  to  complete  the  whole  sum."  * 
Such  are  the  raptures  of  the  newly-pardoned  soul 
— tokens  which  he  will  keep  for  ever,  as  the  first 
instalment  of  an  eternal  weight  of  glory,  and  which 
he  may  safely  retain  as  a  j^ortion  of  his  own  inheri- 
tance. These  spiritual  joys  are  like  the  cluster  of 
grapes  which  the  spies  brought  from  Eschol — they 

*  Chandler. 


210  THE    BAINT   AND    HIS   SAVIOUK. 

are  sweet  in  themselves,  bnt  they  become  more 
delightful  still  when  they  are  regarded  as  proofs 
that  the  land  of  Canaan  is  fertile,  and  flowing  with 
milk  and  honey.  Thus  the  rest  of  the  Sabbath  is 
described  by  Stennet  as  "  the  antepast  of  heaven," 
and  of  its  true  enjoyment  he  says  : — 

"  This  heavenly  calm  within  the  breast 
Is  the  dear  pledge  of  glorious  rest, 
Which  for  the  Church  of  God  remains — 
The  end  of  cares,  the  end  of  pains." 

The  last  of  the  seers,  whom  we  feel  constrained 
to  quote  in  almost  every  page,  makes  "  Hopeful " 
victorious  over  the  scoffing  "  Atheist "  by  the 
simple  expression,  "  What !  no  Mount  Zion  ?  Did 
we  not  see  from  the  Delectable  Mountains  the  gate 
of  the  city  ?"  These  Sabbath  mercies,  delectable 
views,  and  days  of  espousals,  are  a  witness  within 
the  believer  which  all  the  sneers  of  man,  the  malice 
of  devils,  and  the  doubts  of  corrupt  nature  cannot 
disprove.  Such  things  are  designed  to  be  the  true 
"  internal  evidence  "  of  the  power  of  the  Gospel. 

The  ends  and  purposes  of  God  which  we  have 
mentioned  are  far  from  despicable,  and  when  we 
remember  the  marvellously  pleasant  process  by 
which  such  great  effects  are  produced,  we  would 
desire  to  ascribe  honour  to  that  eternal  wisdom 
which  can  use  rich  wines  as  well  as  bitter  medicines 
in  the  cure  of  souls. 


^  JOY   AT   CONVERSION.  211 

And  now,  reader,  what  dost  tlioii  say  to  these 
things  'i  Hast  thou  tasted  the  "  thousand  sacred 
sweets  "  which  are  afforded  by  the  hill  of  Zion  ? 
Hast  thou  felt  the  "  heaven  begun  below  "  of  which 
we  have  treated  ?  If  thou  hast  not,  then  alloAv  a 
word  of  advice  which  may  well  be  furnished  from 
the  subject: — ^^  JVever  lelieve  the  falsehood  which 
pronounces  true  religion  to  le  a  miserable  thing^  for 
a  more  ungrounded  slander  can  never  be  imagined. 
The  godly  have  their  trials  as  well  as  the  rest  of 
the  human  family,  but  these  are  rather  the  effects 
of  sin  than  of  grace.  They  find  this  world  at  times 
a  howling  wilderness — but  then  the  manna  from 
above,  and  the  rock  which  follows  them,  combine 
to  prevent  their  howling  as  they  pass  through  it, 
and  constrain  the  wilderness  and  the  solitary  plac6 
to  be  glad  for  them.  Some  of  them  are  of  a  sor- 
rowful countenance — but  their  gloom  is  the  result 
of  temperament  rather  than  of  religion,  and  if  they 
had  more  grace,  the  wrinkles  upon  their  brows 
might  become  fewer. 

The  Gospel  is  in  itself  "glad  tidings  of  great 
joy  j  can  you  suppose  that  misery  is  the  result  of 
that  which  is  essentially  joyful?  The  very  jDro- 
clamation  of  it  is  a  theme  for  exulting  song ;  ^'  how 
much  more  the  reception  of  it?  If  the  hope  of 
reconciliation  be  a  just  ground  of  rejoicing,  how 

*  Isa.  lii.  V— 10. 


212  THE   6AINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

much  more  the  actual  agreement  of  the  soul  with 
its  God?  "We  rejoice  in  God  through  Jesus 
Christ,  by  whom  we  have  received  the  atone- 
ment."* To  us  there  are  express  precepts  given 
to  "rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway."t  And  that  the 
exhortation  might  have  its  full  weight,  and  not  be 
accounted  hasty,  it  is  solemnly  rej>eated,  "and 
again  I  say,  Eejoice."  Hence,  therefore,  we  may 
safely  conclude  that  the  genuine  right  temper  and 
frame  of  a  healthy  Christian  mind  will  be  an 
habitual  joy  fulness,  prevailing  over  all  the  tempo- 
rary occasions  of  sorrow  which  in  this  life  must 
unavoidably  beset  us. 

No  trial  can  be  thought  of  so  heavy  as  to  out- 
weigh our  great  cause  of  joy;  nor  can  the  kingdom 
of  God  ever  be  in  its  constitution,  even  when 
attacked  b}^  the  most  furious  assaults,  anything 
other  than  "  righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in 
the  Holy  Ghost."  :j:  "  ]^or,"  says  Howe,  in  a  letter 
to  the  bereaved  Lady  Russell,  "is  this  a  theory 
only,  or  the  idea  and  notion  of  an  excellent  temper 
of  spirit,  which  we  may  contemplate  indeed,  but 
can  never  attain  to.  For  we  find  it  also  to  have 
been  the  attainment  and  usual  temper  of  Christians 
heretofore,  that,  *  being  justified  by  faith,  and  hav- 
ing peace  with  God,  they  have  rejoiced,'  in  hope 
of  the  glory  of  God,  unto  that  degree  as  even  to 

*  Rom.  V.  11.  t  Phil.  iv.  4.  :|:  1  Tlies.  v.  16. 


JOY    AT    CONVERSION.  213 


glory  in  their  tribulations  also  ;'^^  and  in  the  con- 
fidence that  they  shonld  '  be  kept  by  the  power  of 
God  throuo'li  faith  mito  salvation,'  thev  have  there- 
fore  *  greatly  rejoiced,'  though  with  some  mixture 
of  heaviness  (whereof  there  was  need)  from  their 
manifold  trials.  But  that  their  joy  did  surmount 
and  prevail  over  their  heaviness  is  manifest,  for 
this  is  spoken  of  with  much  diminution,  whereas 
they  are  said  to  'rejoice  greatly  ^^  and  'with  joy 
unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.'  "  f 

If,  when  the  believer  is  but  a  feeble  thing,  "  car- 
ried away  by  every  wind,"  he  is,  despite  his  weak- 
ness, able  to  rise  to  raptures  of  joy,  who  shall  dare 
to  suppose  him  unhappy  when  he  has  become 
strong  in  faith  and  mighty  in  grace  ?  If  the  porch 
of  godliness  be  paved  with  gold,  what  must  be  the 
interior  of  the  palace  ?  If  the  very  hedgerows  of 
her  garden  are  laden  with  fruit,  what  shall  we  not 
find  on  the  goodly  trees  in  the  centre  ?  The  blade 
yieldeth  much,  shall  the  ear  be  empty  ?  ]^ay,  "  the 
ways  of  the  Lord  are  right,"  and  those  who  walk 
therein  are  blessed.  Think  not  otherwise  of  them, 
but  as  you  wish  to  share  their  "  last  end,"  think 
well  also  of  the  way  which  leadeth  thither. 

May  the  Lord  direct  his  children,  by  his  Holy 
Spirit,  in  reviewing  this  subject  by  prayer,  to  give 
all  the  glory  of  their  mercies  to  the  adorable  '*per- 
son  of  Jesus.     Amen. 

*  Rom.  V.  1,  3.  f  1  Pet.  i.  6,  6,  8. 


TO  THE  UNCONYEETED  EEADEK. 


Fkiend, — We  have  been  answering  questions 
concerning  a  joy  with  which  thou  canst  not  inter- 
meddle— for  thon  art,  to  thine  own  loss  and  shame, 
a  stranger  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel.  But 
thou  too  hast  a  question  or  two  which  it  were  well 
to  ask  thyself.  "Whence  that  misery  of  which  thou 
art  at  times  the  victim  ?  Why  dost  thou  tremble 
under  an  aronsing  sermon  ?  Why  doth  the  funeral 
knell  grate  on  thine  ear?  What  makes  thy  knees 
knock  together  at  the  sound  of  thunder?  Why 
dost  thou  quiver  at  nightfall,  though  a  leaf,  all  soli- 
tary, was  the  only  thing  which  stirred  within  many 
a  yard  of  thee?  Why  dost  thou  feel  such  alarm 
when  pestilence  is  abroad  ?  Why  so  anxious  after 
a  hundred  remedies  ?  Why  so  fearful  if  thou  art 
but  sick  an  hour  ?  Why  so  unwilling  to  visit  the 
grave  of  thy  companion?  Answer  this,  O  sonl, 
without  reserve !  Is  it  not  that  thou  art  afraid  to 
die  ?    It  is ! — thou  knowest  it  is  ! 

214 


JOY    AT   CONVERSION.  215 

But,  O  ni}'  friend,  fear  death  as  much  as  thou 
wilt,  thou  canst  not  escape  it.  On  his  pale  horse 
he  is  pursuing  thee  at  no  lame  pace,  but  at  a  rate 
which  thou  mayst  guess  of  by  the  wind  or  the  flash- 
ing lightning.  ISToiseless  is  the  wing  of  time,  dumb 
is  the  lip  of  death ;  but  time  is  none  the  less  rapid 
for  its  silence,  and  death  not  one  whit  the  more 
uncertain  because  he  trumpets  not  his  coming. 
Remember,  while  thou  art  fearing,  the  messenger 
is  hasteniog  to  arrest  thee.  Every  moment  now 
gliding  away  is  another  moment  lost,  and  lost  to 
one  who  little  can  afford  it.  Oh  !  ere  the  wax  hath 
cooled  which  is  sealing  thy  death-warrant,  list  to  a 
warning  from  God,  for  if  the  book  of  thy  doom  be 
once  sealed,  it  shall  never  be  opened  for  erasure  or 
inscription.  Hear  Moses  and  the  prophets,  and 
then  hear  the  great  Jesus  speak : — "  The  soul  that 
sinneth  it  shall  die."  "  He  will  by  no  means  spare 
the  guilty."  "  Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth 
not  in  all  things  that  are  written  in  the  book  of  the 
law  to  do  them."  "  Behold  the  day  cometh  that 
shall  burn  as  an  oven,  and  all  the  proud,  yea,  and 
ALL  THAT  DO  w^icKEDLY,  shall  be  stubblc ;  and  the 
day  that  cometh  shall  burn  them  up,  saith  the  Lord 
of  Hosts,  that  it  shall  leave  them  neither  root  nor 
branch."  Eegard  then  the  voice  of  Jesus,  full  of 
mercy  : — "  The  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  seek  and  to 
save  that  which  was  lost.'''' 


216  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

"  Sinner,  is  thy  heart  at  rest  ? 
Is  thy  bosom  void  of  fear  ? 
Art  thou  not  by  guilt  oppress'd  ? 
Speaks  not  conscience  in  thine  ear  ? 

"  Can  this  world  afford  thee  bliss? 
Can  it  chase  away  thy  gloom  ? 
Flattering,  false,  and  vain  it  is ; 
Tremble  at  the  worldling's  doom. 

"  Long  the  Gospel  thou  hast  spurn'd, 
Long  delay'd  to  love  thy  God, 
Stifled  conscience,  nor  hast  turn'd, 
Woo'd  thongh  by  a  Saviour's  blood. 

"  Think,  0  sinner!  on  thy  end! 
See  the  judgment-day  appear  ; 
Thither  must  thy  spirit  wend. 
There  thy  righteous  sentence  hear. 

"  Wretched,  ruin'd,  helpless  soul, 
To  a  Saviour's  blood  apply  ; 
He  alone  can  make  thee  whole — 
Fly  to  Jesus,  sinner,  fly."  * 

*  Waterbury. 


VI. 
COMPLETE     IN    CHRIST 


"  Ye  are  complete  ia  Him." — Col.  ii.  10. 

The  pardoned  sinner  for  awhile  is  content  with 
the  boon  of  forgiveness,  and  is  too  overjoyed  with 
a  sense  of  freedom  from  bondage  to  know  a  wish 
beyond.  In  a  little  time,  however,  he  bethinks 
himself  of  his  position,  his  wants,  and  his  pros- 
pects :  what  is  then  his  rapture  at  the  discovery 
that  the  roll  of  his  pardon  is  also  an  indenture  of 
all  wealth,  a  charter  of  all  privileges,  a  title-deed 
of  all  needed  blessings  !  Having  received  Christ, 
he  hath  obtained  all  things  in  him.  lie  looketh  to 
that  cross  upon  which  the  dreadful  handwriting  of 
ordinances  hath  been  nailed;  to  his  unutterable 
surprise  he  beholds  it  blossom  with  mercy,  and  like 
a  tree  of  life  bring  forth  the  twelve  manner  of 
fruits — yea,  all  that  he  requires  for  life,  for  death, 
for  time,  or  for  eternity.  Lo !  at  the  foot  of  the 
once  accursed  tree  grow  plants  for  his  healing,  and 

10  2ir 


218  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUE. 

flowers  for  his  delight;  from  the  bleeding  feet  of 
the  Eedeemer  flows  directing  love  to  lead  him  all 
the  desert  through — from  the  pierced  side  there 
gushes  cleansing  water  to  purge  him  from  the 
power  of  sin — the  nails  become  a  means  of  secur- 
ing him  to  righteousness,  while  above  the  crown 
hangs  visible  as  the  gracious'  reward  of  persever- 
ance. All  things  are  in  the  cross — by  this  we 
conquer,  by  this  we  live,  by  this  we  are  purified, 
by  this  we  continue  firm  to  the  end.  While  sitting 
beneath  the  shadow  of  our  Lord,  we  think  our- 
selves most  rich,  for  angels  seem  to  sing,  "  Ye  are 
complete  in  him." 

"Complete  in  Him!"  —  precious  sentence! 
sweeter  than  honey  to  our  soul,  we  would  adore 
the  Holy  Spirit  for  dictating  such  glorious  words 
to  his  servant  Paul.  Oh !  may  we  by  grace  be 
made  to  see  that  they  really  are  ours — for  ours 
they  are  if  we  answer  to  the  character  described  in 
the  opening  verses  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Colossians. 
If  we  have  faith  in  Christ  Jesus,  love  towards  all 
the  saints,  and, a  hope  laid  up  in  heaven,  we  may 
grasp  this  golden  sentence  as  all  our  own.  Header, 
hast  thou  been  able  to  follow  in  that  which  has 
already  been  described  as  the  "  way  which  leads 
from  banishment?"  Then  thou  mayst  take  this 
choice  sentence  to  'thyself  as  a  portion  of  thine 
inheritance ;  for  weak,  poor,  helpless,  unworthy 
though  thou  be  in  thyself,  in  Him^  thy  Lord,  thy 


COMPLETE   IN    CHRIST.  219 

Redeemer,  tliou  art  complete  in  tlie  fullest,  broad- 
est, and  most  varied  sense  of  that  miglity  word, 
and  tliou  wilt  be  glad  to  muse  npon  the  wonders 
of  this  glorious  position.  May  the  great  Teacher 
guide  ns  into  this  mystery  of  the  perfection  of  the 
elect  in  Jesus,  and  may  our  meditation  be  cheer- 
ing and  profitable  to  our  spirits !  As  the  words 
are  few,  let  ns  dwell  on  them,  and  endeavor  to 
gain  the  sweets  w^hich  lie  so  compactly  within  this 
little  cell. 

Pause  over  those  two  little  words,  "  in  Him  " — 
in  Christ !  Here  is  the  doctrine  of  union  and  one- 
ness with  Jesus — a  doctrine  of  undoubted  truth 
and  unmingled  comfort.  The  Church  is  so  allied 
with  her  Lord  that  she  is  positively  one  with  him. 
She  is  the  bride,  and  He  the  bridegroom ;  she  is 
the  branch,  and  He  the  stem  ;  she  the  body,  and 
He  the  glorious  Head.  So  also  is  every  individual 
believer  united  to  Christ.  As  Levi  lay  in  the  loins 
of  Abraham  when  Melchisedek  met  him,  so  was 
every  believer  chosen  in  Christ,  and  blessed  with 
all  sj)iritual  blessings  in  heavenly  places  in  him. 
"We  have  been  spared,  protected,  converted,  justi- 
fied, and  accepted  solely  and  entirely  by  virtue  of 
our  eternal  union  with  Christ. 

Kever  can  the  convinced  soul  obtain  peace  until, 
like  Euth,  she  finds  rest  in  the  house  of  her  kins- 
man, who  becomes  her  husband — Jesus  the  Lord. 


220  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

An  eminent  pastor,  lately  deceased,*  said  in  one 
of  his  sermons,  "  Now,  I  am  as  sure  as  I  am  of  my 
own  existence  that  wherever  God  the  Holy  Ghost 
awakens  the  poor  sinner  by  his  mighty  grace,  and 
imparts  spiritual  life  in  his  heart,  nothiDg  will  ever 
satisfy  that  poor  sinner  but  a  believing  assurance 
of  eternal  union  with  Christ.  Unless  the  soul  ob- 
tains a  sweet  and  satisfactory  consciousness  of  it  in 
the  exercise  of  a  living  faith,  it  will  never  '  enter 
into  rest '  this  side  eternity." 

It  is  from  oneness  with  Christ  before  all  worlds 
that  we  receive  all  our  mercies.  Faith  is  the  pre- 
cious grace  which  discerns  this  eternal  union,  and 
cements  it  by  another — a  vital  union  ;  so  that  we 
become  one,  not  merely  in  the  eye  of  God,  but  in 
our  owm  happy  experience — one  in  aim,  one  in 
heart,  one  in  holiness,  one  in  communion,  and,  ulti- 
mately, one  in  glory. 

This  manifest  union  is  not  more  real  and  actual 
than  the  eternal  union  of  which  it  is  the  revela- 
tion ;  it  does  not  commence  the  union,  nor  does  its 
obscurity  or  clearness  in  the  least  affect  the  cer- 
tainty or  safety  of  the  immutable  oneness  subsist- 
insc  between  Jesus  and  the  believer.  It  is  emi- 
nently  desirable  that  every  saint  should  attain  a 
full  assurance  of  his  union  to  Christ,  and  it  is  ex- 
ceedingly important  that  he  should  labour  to  main 

*  Rev.  Joseph  Irons,  Cauiberwell. 


COMPLETE   IN   CHRIST.  221 

tain  a  constant  sense  thereof;  for  altliougli  tlie 
mercy  be  the  same,  yet  his  comfort  from  it  will 
vary  according  to  his  apprehension  of  it.  A  land- 
scape is  as  fair  by  night  as  by  day,  but  who  can 
perceive  its  beauties  in  the  dark  ? — even  so  we 
must  see,  or  rather  believe,  this  union  to  rejoice 
in  it. 

No  condition  out  of  Paradise  can  be  more 
blessed  than  that  which  is  produced  by  a  lively 
sense  of  oneness  with  Jesus.  To  know  and  feel 
that  our  interests  are  mutual,  our  bonds  indissolu- 
ble, and  our  lives  united,  is  indeed  to  dip  our 
morsel  in  the  golden  dish  of  heaven.  There  is  no 
sweeter  canticle  for  mortal  lips  than  the  sw^eet 
song,  "  My  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  His  :" — 

"  E'en  like  two  bank-dividing  brooks, 
That  wash  the  pebbles  with  their  wanton  streams, 
And,  haviiig  rang'd  and  search'd  a  thousand  nooks, 
Meet  both-  at  length  in  silver-breasted  Thames, 
Where  in  a  greater  current  they  conjoin  ; — 
So  I  mj"  best  beloved's  am,  so  he  is  mine." 

Yerily  the  stream  of  life  floweth  along  easily 
enough  when  it  is  commingled  with  him  who  is  our 
life.  Walking  with  our  arm  upon  the  shoulder  of 
the  beloved  is  not  simply  safe,  but  delightful ;  and 
living  with  his  life  is  a  noble  style  of  immortality, 
wdiich  may  be  enjoyed  on  earth.  But  to  be  out  of 
Christ  is  misery,  weakness,  and  death — in  short,  it 


222  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

is  tlie  bud,  of  whicli  tlie  full-blown  flower  is  dam- 
nation. Apart  from  Jesus  we  have  nothing  save 
fearful  forebodings  and  terrible  remembrances. 
Beloved,  there  is  no  Gospel  promise  whicli  is  ours 
unless  we  know  what  it  is  to  be  m  Him.  Out  of 
him  all  is  poverty,  woe,  sorrow,  and  destruction  : 
it  is  only  in  him,  the  ark  of  his  elect,  that  we  can 
hope  to  enjoy  covenant  mercies,  or  rejoice  in  the 
sure  blessings  of  salvation.  Can  we  now  entertain 
a  hope  that  we  are  really  hidden  in  the  rock  ?  Do 
we  feel  that  we  are  a  portion  of  Christ's  body,  and 
that  a  real  union  exists  between  us  ?  Then  may 
we  proceed  to  unfold  and  appropriate  the  privi- 
leges here  mentioned. 

Ye  are  comjplete  in  Him.  Tlie  word  "  complete  " 
does  not  convey  the  whole  of  7TenArjpG)iievoL,  It  is 
upon  the  whole  the  best  word  which  can  be  found 
in  our  language,  but  its  meaning  may  be  further 
unveiled  by  the  addition  of  other  auxiliary  read- 
ings. 

I.  Ye  aee  complete  in  Him. — Let  us  consider 
the  meaning  of  the  phrase  as  it  thus  stands  in  our 
own  authorised  version.  We  are  complete.  In  all 
matters  which  concern  our  spiritual  welfare,  and 
our  soul's  salvation,  we  are  complete  in  Christ. 

1.  Comjplete  without  tlie  aid  of  Jewish  ceremo- 
nies.— These  had  their  uses.  They  were  pictures 
wherewith  the  law,  as  a  schoolmaster,  taught  the 
infant    Jewish   church ;    but    now    that  faith    is 


COMPLETE   IN    CHRIST.  223 

come,  we  are  no  longer  under  a  sclioolmaster,  for 
in  tlie  clear  light  of  Christian  knowledge  we  need 
not  the  aid  of  symbols  : — 

"Finislied  ai'e  the  types  and  shadows 
Of  the  ceremonial  law." 

The  one  sacrifice  has  so  atoned  for  us  that  we  need 
no  other.  In  Christ  we  are  complete  without  any 
addition  of  circumcision,  sacrifice,  passover,  or 
temple  service.  These  are  now  but  beggarly  ele- 
ments. They  would  be  incumbrances — for  what 
can  we  need  from  them  when  we  are  complete  in 
Christ?  What  have  we  to  do  with  moon  or  stars, 
now  that  Christ  hath  shone  forth  like  the  sun  in  his 
strength  ?  Let  the  dim  lamps  be  quenched — they 
would  but  mock  the  dawn,  and  the  sunlight  would 
deride  their  unneeded  glimmerings.  "We  despise 
not  the  ceremonial  law — it  was  "  the  shadow  of 
good  things  to  come,"  and  as  such  we  venerate  it ; 
but  now  that  the  substance  hath  appeared,  we  are 
not  content  with  guesses  of  grace,  but  we  grasp 
him  who  is  grace  and  truth.  How  much  more 
highly  are  we  favoured  than  the  ancient  believers, 
for  they  by  daily  ofi*erings  confessed  themselves  to 
be  incomplete  !  They  could  never  stay  their  hand 
and  say,  "  It  is  enough,"  for  daily  sin  demanded 
daily  lambs  for  the  altar.  The  Jews  were  never 
made  complete  by  their  law,  for  their  rites  "  could 
never  make   the   comers  thereunto  perfect ;"  but 


224:  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

this  is  our  peculiar  and  su23erior  privilege,  that  we 
are  perfected  by  tlie  one  offering  on  Calvary. 

2.  We  are  co'Uiplete  without  the  help  of  jphilo- 
sojphy. — In  Paul's  time,  tliere  were  some  who 
thought  that  philosophy  might  be  used  as  a  supple- 
ment to  faith.  They  argued,  contended,  and  mys- 
tified every  doctrine  of  revelation.  Happy  would 
it  have  been  for  them  and  the  Church  had  they 
heeded  the  words  of  Paul,  and  kept  entirely  to 
the  simplicity  of  the  Gospel,  glorying  only  in  the 
cross  of  Christ !  The  Christian  has  such  a  sub- 
lime system  of  doctrine  that  he  never  need  to  fear 
the  vain  speculations  of  an  infidel  science,  nor 
need  he  ever  call  in  the  sophisms  of  the  worldly 
wise  to  prop  his  faith — ^in  Christ  he  is  complete. 
We  have  never  heard  of  a  dying  believer  asking 
the  aid  of  a  worldly  philosophy  to  give  him  words 
of  comfort  in  the  hour  of  dissolution.  ]^o !  he  has 
enough  in  his  own  religion — enough  in  the  person  of 
his  Eedeemer — enough  in  the  comforts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Never  let  us  turn  aside  from  the  faith  be- 
cause of  the  sneer  of  the  learned :  this  Christian 
will  not,  cannot  do — for  we  see  that  eternal  evi- 
dence in  our  religion  which  we  may  call  its  best 
proof,  namely,  the  fact  that  in  it  we  are  complete. 

No  man  can  add  anything  to  the  religion  of 
Jesus.  All  that  is  consistent  with  truth  is  already 
incorporated  in  it,  and  with  that  which  is  not  true 
it  can  form  no  alliance      There  is  nothing  new  in 


COMP;.ETE   IN   CHKIST.  225 

theology  save  that  which  is  false.  Those  who  seek 
to  improve  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  do  but  defage  it.  It 
is  so  perfect  in  itself  that  all  additions  to  it  are  but 
excrescences  of  error ;  and  it  renders  us  so  com- 
plete that  aught  we  join  with  it  is  supererogation, 
or  worse  than  that.  David  would  not  go  to  the 
fight  in  Saul's  armour,  for  he  had  not  proved  it ; 
so  can  we  say, ''  the  sling  and  stone  are  to  us  abun- 
dant weapons ;  as  for  the  mail  of  philosophy,  we 
leave  that  for  proud  Goliahs  to  wear."  One  of  the 
most  evil  signs  of  our  day  is  its  tendency  to  ration- 
alism, spiritualism,  and  multitudes  of  other  means 
of  beclouding  the  simple  faith  of  our  Lord  Jesus : 
but  the  Lord's  chosen  family  will  not  be  beguiled 
from  their  steadfastness,  which  is  the  only  hope  of 
an  heretical  generation  ;  for  they  know  whom  they 
have  believed,  and  w^ill  not  renounce  their  confi- 
dence in  him  for  the  sophistries  of  the  "  wise  and 
prudent." 

3.  Complete  without  the  inventions  of  supersti- 
tion.— God  is  the  author  of  all  revealed  and  spirit- 
ual religion;  but  man  would  write  an  appendix. 
There  must  be  w^orks  of  supererogation,  deeds  of 
penance,  acts  of  mortification,  or  else  the  poor 
papist  can  never  be  perfected.  Yea,  when  he  has 
most  vigorously  applied  the  whip,  w^lien  he  has 
fasted  even  to  physical  exhaustion,  when  he  has 
forfeited  all  that  is  natural  to  man — yet  he  is  never 
sure  that  he  has  done  enough,  he  can  never  say 

10^ 


226  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUK. 

that  lie  is  complete;  but  the  Christian,  without 
any  of  these,  feels  that  he  has  gained  a  consumma- 
tion by  those  last  words  of  his  Saviour — "  It  is 
finished!"  The  blood  of  his  agonising  Lord  is  his 
only  and  all-sufficient  trust.  He  despises  alike  the 
absolutions  and  the  indulgences  of  priest  or  pontiff; 
he  tramples  on  the  refuge  of  lies  which  the  de- 
ceiver has  builded — his  glory  and  his  boast  ever 
centring  in  the  fact  that  he  is  complete  in  Christ. 
Let  but  this  sentence  be  preached  throughout  the 
earth,  and  believed  by  the  inhabitants  thereof,  and 
all  the  despots  on  its  surface  could  not  buttress  the 
tottering  church  of  Rome,  even  for  a  single  hour. 
Men  would  soon  cry  out,  "  Away  w^ith  the  usurper ! 
away  with  her  pretensions !  there  is  all  in  Christ ; 
and  what  can  she  add .  thereto,  saviug  her  mum- 
meries, pollutions,  and  corrupt  abominations." 

4.  We  are  Gomjplete  without  human  merit ^  our 
own  worlcs  heing  regarded  as  filthy  rags. — How 
many  there  are  who,  while  waxing  warm  against 
popery,  are  fostering  its  principles  in  their  own 
minds  !  The  very  marrow  of  popery  is  reliance  on 
our  own  works ;  and  in  God's  sight  the  formalist 
and  legalist  are  as  contemptible,  if  found  in  an 
orthodox  church,  as  if  they  were  open  followers  of 
Antichrist.  Brethren,  let  us  see  to  it  that  we  are 
resting  alone  in  the  righteousness  of  Jesus,  that  he 
is  all  in  all  to  us.  Let  us  never  forget  that  if  we 
are  perfect  in  him,  we  are  perfect  only  in  him. 


COMPLETE   IN   CHRIST.  227 

While  we  would  diligently  cultivate  works  of  holi- 
ness, let  us  be  careful  lest  we  seek  to  add  to  the 
perfect  work  of  Jesus.  The  robe  of  righteousness 
that  nature  spins  and  weaves  is  too  frail  a  fabric  to 
endure  the  breath  of  the  Almighty,  we  must,  there- 
fore, cast  it  all  away — creature  doings  must  not  be 
united  with,  or  regarded  as  auxiliary  to  Divine 
satisfaction. 

We  would  be  holy,  even  as  God  is,  but  we  are 
still  confident  that  this  will  not  be  supplementing 
the  great  righteousness  which  is  ours  by  imputa- 
tion. ISTo ;  though  compassed  with  sin  and  sur- 
rounded by  our  depravity,  we  know  that  we  are  so 
complete  in  Jesus  that  we  could  not  be  more  so, 
even  were  we  free  from  all  these  things,  and  glori- 
fied as  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect. 

Blessed  completely  through  the  God-man,  let  our 
unbelief  be  ashamed,  and  let  our  ^admiration  be 
fastened  upon  this  interesting  and  delightful  state 
of  privilege.  Arise,  believer !  and  behold  thyself 
"  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus."  Let  not  thy  sins  shake 
thy  faith  in  the  all-sufiiciency  of  Jesus.  Thou  art, 
with  all  thy  depravity,  still  in  him,  and  therefore 
complete.  Thou  hast  need  of  nothing  beyond 
what  there  is  in  him.  In  him  thou  art  at  this 
moment  just,  in  him  entirely  clean,  in  him  an 
object  of  divine  approval  and  eternal  love.  JV^ow, 
as  thou  art,  and  where  thou  art,  thou  art  still  com- 
plete.    Feeble,  forgetful,  frail,  fearful,  and  fickle  in 


228  "    THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

thyself,  yet  m  Him  thou  art,  all  that  can  be 
desired.  Thine  unrighteousness  is  covered,  thy 
righteousness  is  accepted,  thy  strength  is  perfected, 
safety  secured,  and  thy  heaven  certain.  Hejoice, 
then,  that  thou  art  "  Complete  in  him."  Look  on 
thine  own  nothingness  and  be  humble,  but  look  at 
Jesus,  thy  great  representative,  and  be  glad.  Be 
not  so  intent  upon  thine  own  corruptions  as  to  for- 
get his  immaculate  purity,  which  he  has  given  to 
thee.  Be  not  so  mindful  of  thine  original  poverty 
as  to  forget  the  infinite  riches  whicli  he  has  con- 
ferred upon  thee.  It  will  save  thee  many  pangs  if 
thou  w^ilt  learn  to  think  of  thyself  as  being  in  IIwi^ 
and  as  being  by  his  glorious  grace  accepted  in  him, 
and  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus. 

II.  Ye  aee  fully  supplied  in  Him. — Having 
him,  we  have  ail  that  we  can  possibly  require.  The 
man  of  God  is  thoroughly  furnished  in  the  posses- 
sion of  his  great  Saviour.  He  neyer  need  to  look 
for  anything  beyond,  for  in  him  all  is  treasured. 
Do  we  need  forgiveness  for  the  past  ?  Pardons, 
rich  and  free,  are  with  Jesus.  Grace  to  cover  all 
our  ein  is  there  ;  grace  to  rise  above  our  follies  and 
our  faults.  Is  it  wisdom  which  we  lack  ?  He  is 
made  of  God  unto  us  wisdom.  His  fino^er  shall 
point  out  our  path  in  the  desert ;  his  rod  and  staff 
shall  keep  us  in  the  way  when  we  walk  through 
the  valle}^  of  the  shadow  of  death.     In  our  com- 


COMPLETE   IN    CHRIST.  229 

bats  with  tlie  foe  do  we  feel  want  of  sU^ength  f  Is 
lie  not  Jehovali,  mighty  to  save?  Will  he  not 
increase  power  unto  the  faint,  and  succour  the 
fallen  ?  Need  we  go  to  Assyria,  or  stay  on  Egypt, 
for  help  ?  J^ay,  these  are  broken  reeds.  Surely, 
in  the  Lord  Jehovah  have  w^e  righteousness  and 
strength.  The  battle  is  before  us,  but  we  tremble 
not  at  the  foe  ;  ^ve  feel  armed  at  all  points,  clad  in 
impenetrable  mail,  for  we  are  fully  supplied  in  him. 
Do  we  deplore  onr  ignorance  ?  He  will  give  us 
knowledge  /  He  can  open  our  ear  to  listen  to  mys- 
teries unknown.  Even  babes  shall  learn  the  won- 
ders of  his  grace,  and  children  shall  be  taught  of 
the  Lord.  E"o  other  teacher  is  required ;  He  is 
alone  efficient  and  all-sufficient.  Are  we  at  times 
distressed  ?  We  need  not  inquire  for  comfort^  for 
in  him,  the  consolation  of  Israel,  there  are  fats  full 
of  the  oil  of  joy,  and  rivers  of  the  wine  of  thanks- 
giving. The  pleasures  of  the  world  are  void  to  us, 
for  we  have  infinitely  more  joy  than  they  can  give 
in  Ilivi  who  has  made  us  complete. 

Ah  !  my  reader,  whatever  exigencies  may  arise, 
w^e  shall  never  need  to  say,  "We  have  searched, 
but  cannot  find  wdiat  we  require  ;  for  it  is,  and  ever 
shall  be,  found  in  the  storehouse  of  mercy,  even  in 
Jesus  Christ."  "  It  hath  pleased  the  Father  that 
in  him  should  all  fulness  dwell ;"  and  truly  none  of 
the  saints  have  ever  complained  of  any  failure  in 
Him.     Tens  of  thousands  of  them  have  drawn  from 


230  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

this  sacred  well,  yet  is  it  as  full  as  ever,  and  all 
who  come  to  it  are  supplied  with  the  full  measure 
of  their  necessities.  Jesus  is  not  one  single  sprig 
of  myrrh,  but  "  a  lundle  of  m^n-rh  is  my  beloved 
unto  me ;"  '^  not  one  mercy,  but  a  string  of  mer- 
cies, for  "  my  beloved  is  unto  me  as  a  duster  of 
camphire."  "  In  Christ  is  a  cluster  of  all  spiritual 
blessings,  all  the  blessings  of  the  everlasting  cove- 
nant are  in  his  hands  and  at  his  disposal ;  and 
saints  are  blessed  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in 
heavenly  places  in  him.  He  is  the  believer's  wis- 
dom, righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemption. 
There  is  not  a  mercy  we  want  but  is  in  him,  or  a 
blessing  we  enjoy  but  what  we  have  received  from 
him.  He  is  the  believer's  '  all  in  all.''  "  f  The 
word  translated  "  complete  "  is  used  by  Demos- 
thenes in  describing  a  ship  as  fully  manned — and 
truly  the  Christian's  shij),  from  prow  to  stern,  is 
well  manned  by  her  captain,  who  himself  steers  the 
vessel,  stills  the  storm,  feeds  the  crew,  fills  the  sails, 
and  brings  all  safe  to  their  desired  haven.  In 
every  position  of  danger  or  duty/,  Clmst  himself  is 
all-sufficient  for  protection  or  support.  Under 
every  conceivable  or  inconceivable  trial,  we  shall 
find  in  him  sufficient  grace  :  should  every  eai'thly 
stream  be  dried,  there  is  enough  in  him,  in  the 
absence  of  them  all.     His  glorious  person  is  the 

*  Sol.  Song,  i.  13,  14.  f  Dr.  GiU. 


COMPLETE   IN    CHEIST.  231 

dwelling-place  of  all-sufficiency.  "In  him  clwell- 
etli  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily  ;"  as  the 
fulness  of  Deity  is  sufficient  to  create  and  sustain  a 
universe  of  pondrous  orbs,  and  whole  worlds  of 
living  creatures,  can  it  be  supposed  that  it  will  be 
found  unable  to  supply  the  necessities  of  saints  ? 
Such  a  fear  would  be  as  foolish  as  if  a  man  should 
tremble  lest  the  atmosphere  should  prove  too  little 
for  his  breath,  or  the  rivers  too  shallow  for  his 
thirst.  To  imagine  the  riches  of  the  incarnate 
God  to  fail,  would  be  to  conceive  a  bankrupt 
God,  or  a  wasted  infinite.  Therefore,  let  us  set 
uj)  our  banners  '  in  his  name,  and  exceedingly 
rejoice. 

III.  A  third  readino;  is — ^Ye  ake  satisfied  m 
Hem. — Satisfaction  is  a  jewel  rare  and  precious. 
Happy  is  the  merchant-man  who  finds  it.  "We 
may  seek  it  in 'riches,  but  it  lieth  not  there.  We 
may  heap  up  gold  and  silver,  pile  on  pile,  until  we 
are  rich  beyond  the  dream  of  avarice,  then  thrust 
our  hands  into  our  bags  of  gold,  and  search  there 
for  satisfaction,  but  we  have  it  not.  Our  heart, 
like  the  horseleech,  crieth,  "  Give,  give."  "We  may 
erect  the  palace  and  conquer  mighty  nations,  but 
among  the  trophies  which  decorate  the  hall,  there 
is  not  that  precious  thing  which  worlds  cannot  buy. 
But  give  us  Christ,  let  us  be  allied  to  him,  and  our 
heart  is  satisfied.     We  are  content  in  poverty — we 


232  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

are  rich  ;  in  distress  we  have  all,  and  abound.    We 
are  full,  for  we  are  satisfied  in  him. 

Again,  let  iis  explore  the  fields  of  Tcnoioledge  j  let 
lis  separate  ourselves,  and  intermeddle  with  all 
wisdom  ;  let  us  dive  into  the  secrets  of  nature  ;  let 
the  heavens  yield  to  the  telescope,  and  the  earth  to 
our  research  ;  let  iis  turn  the  ponderous  tome  and 
pore  over  the  j)ages  of  the  mighty  folio  ;  let  ns  take 
our  seat  among  the  wise,  and  become  professors  of 
science  :  but,  alas  !  we  soon  shall  loathe  it  all,  for 
"  much  study  is  a  weariness  of  the  flesh."  Eut  let 
us  turn  again  to  the  fountain-head,  and  drink  of  the 
waters  of  revelation  :  we  are  then  satisfied.  What- 
ever the  pursuit  may  be,  whether  we  invoke  the 
trump  of  fame  to  do  us  homage,  and  bid , our  fel- 
lows ofler  the  incense  of  honour,  or  pursue  the 
pleasures  of  sin,  and  dance  a  giddy  round  of  merri- 
ment, or  follow  the  less  erratic  movements  of 
commerce,  and  acquire  influence  among  men,  we 
shall  still  be  disappointed,  we  shall  have  still  an 
aching  void,  an  emptiness  within;  but  when  we 
gather  up  our^straying  desires,  and  bring  them  to 
a  focus  at  the  foot  of  Calvary,  we  feel  a  solid 
satisfaction,  of  which  the  world  cannot  deprive 
us. 

Among  the  sons  of  men  there  are  not  a  few  of 
restless  spirit,  whose  uneasy  souls  are  panting  for 
an  unknown  good,  the  want  of  which  they  feel,  but. 
the   nature   of    which   they   do   not  -comj^reheud. 


COMPLETE   IN   CHKIST.  233 

These  will  liiirry  from  couutry  to  country,  to  do  lit- 
tle else  but  attempt  a  hopeless  escape  from  them- 
selves ;  they  will  flit  from  pleasure  to  pleasure, 
with  the  only  gain  of  fresh  grief  from  repeated  dis- 
appointments. It  were  hard  indeed  to  compound 
a  medicine  for  minds  thus  diseased.  Yerily,  the 
aromatics  and  balms  of  Araby,  or  the  islands  of 
the  sea,  might  be  exhausted  ere  the  elixir  of  satis- 
faction could  be  distilled,  and  every  mystic  name 
in  the  vocabulary  of  the  wise  might  be  tried  in  vain 
to  produce  the  all-precious  charm  of  quiet.  But  in 
the  Gospel  we  find  the  inestimable  medicine  al- 
ready compounded,  potent  enough  to  allay  the  most 
burning  fever,  and  still  the  most  violent  palpita- 
tions  of  the  heart.  This  we  speak  from  experience, 
for  we  too  were  once,  like  the  unclean  spirit  "  seek- 
ing rest  and  finding  none ;"  we  once  groaned  for  an 
unseen  something,  which  in  all  our  joys  w^e  could 
not  find,  and  now,  by  God's  great  love,  we  have 
found  the  water  which  has  quenched  our  thirst — it 
is  that  which  Jesus  gives,  "  the  living  water  "  of  his 
ffrace.  We  revel  in  the  sweets  of  the  name  of 
Jesus,  and  long  for  nought  beside.  Like  ISTaphtali, 
we  are  satisfied  with  favour,  and  full  of  the  bless- 
ing of  the  Lord.  Like  Jacob,  we  exclaim,  "  It  is 
enough."  The  soul  is  anchored,  the  desire  is  "  sa- 
tiated with  fatness,"  the  whole  man  is  rich  to  all  the 
intents  of  bliss,  and  looketh  for  nothing  more.  Al- 
len, in  his  Heaven  Ojpened^  represents  the  believer 


234:  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

as  soliloquising  in  the  following  joyous  manner  : — 
"  O  happy  soul,  how  rich  art  thou  !  What  a  booty 
have  I  gotten !  It  is  all  mine  own.  I  have  the 
promises  of  this  life,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come. 
Oh  !  what  can  I  wish  more  ?  How  full  a  charter 
is  here !  I^ow,  my  doubting  soul  may  boldly  and 
belie vingly  say  with  Thomas,  'My  Lord  and  my 
God.'  What  need  we  any  farther  witness  ?  We 
have  heard  his  words.  He  hath  sworn  by  his  holi- 
ness that  his  decree  may  not  be  changed,  and  hath 
signed  it  with  his  own  signet.  And  now  return  to 
thy  rest,  O  my  soul !  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  boun- 
tifully with  thee.  Say,  if  thy  lines  be  not  fallen  to 
thee  in  a  pleasant  place,  and  if  this  be  not  a  goodly 
heritage  ?  O  blasphemous  discontent !  how  absurd 
and  unreasonable  an  evil  art  thou,  whom  all  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  cannot  satisfy,  because  thou 
art  denied  in  a  petty  comfort,  or  crossed  in  thy  vain 
expectations  from  the  world  !  O  my  unthrrnkful 
soul,  shall  not  a  Trinity  content  thee  ?  Shall  not 
all-sufficiency  suffice  thee?  Silence,  ye  murmur- 
ing thoughts,  for  ever.  I  have  enough,  I  abound, 
and  am  full.  Liiiniteness  and  eternity  is  mine,  and 
what  more  can  I  ask  ?" 

Oh  may  we  constantly  dwell  on  the  blissful  sum- 
mit of  spiritual  content,  boasting  continually  in  the 
completeness  of  our  salvation  in  Hni,  and  may  we 
ever  seek  to  live  up  to  our  great  and  inestimable 
privilege  !     Let  us  live  according  to  our  rank  and 


COMPLETE   IN    CHRIST.  235 

quality,  according  to  the  riches  conveyed  to  ns  by 
the  eternal  covenant.  As  great  princes  are  so 
arrayed  that  you  can  read,  their  estates  in  tlieir 
garments,  and  discern  their  riches  by  their  tables, 
BO  let  our  daily  carriage  express  to  others  the  value 
which  we  set  upon  the  blessings  of  grace.  A  mur- 
mur is  a  rag  which  is  ill-suited  to  be  the  dress  of  a 
soul  possessed  of  Jesus ;  a  complaining  spirit  is  too 
mean  a  thing  for  an  heir  of  all  things  to  indulge. 
Let  worldlings  see  that  our  Jesus  is  indeed  a  suffi- 
cient portion.  As  for  those  of  us  who  are  continu- 
ally filled  with  rejoicing,  let  us  be  careful  that  our 
company  and  converse  are  in  keeping  with  our 
high  position.  Let  our  satisfaction  with  Christ 
beget  in  us  a  spirit  too  noble  to  stoop  to  th^  base 
deeds  of  ungodly  men.  Let  us  live  among  the  gen- 
eration of  the  just;  let  us  dwell  in  the  courts  of 
the  great  King,  behold  his  face,  wait  at  his  throne, 
bear  his  name,  show  forth  his  virtues,  set  forth  his 
praises,  g.dv{\nce  his  honour,  uphold  his  interest, 
and  reflect  his  image.  It  is  not  becoming  that 
j^rinces  of  the  blood  should  herd  with  beggars',  or 
dress  as  they  do ;  let  all  believers,  then,  come  out 
from  the  world,  and  mount  the  hills  of  high  and 
holy  living ;  so  shall  it  be  proved  that  they  are 
content  with  Christ,  when  tliey  utterly^ forsake  the 
broken  cisterns. 

lY.  The  text  bears  within  it  another  meaning: — 


236  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

Ye  are  filled  in  Him  : — so  Wickliffe  translated  it, 
''  ^nb  ^c  ben  filUb  in  ijem."  A  possession  of 
Jesus  in  the  soul  is  a  filling  thing.  Our  great 
Creator  never  intended  that  the  heart  should  be 
empty,  and  hence  he  has  stamped  upon  it  the 
ancient  rule  that  nature  abhors  a  vacuum.  The 
soul  can  never  be  quiet  until  in  every  part  it  is 
fully  occupied.  It  is  as  insatiable  as  the  grave, 
until  it  finds  every  corner  of  its  being  filled  with 
treasure.  Now,  it  can  be  said  of  Christian  salva- 
tion, that  it,  and  it  alone,  can  fill  the  mind.  Man 
is  a  compound  being,  and  while  one  portion  of  his 
being  may  be  full,  another  may  be  empty.  There 
is  nothing  which  can  fill  the  whole  man  save  the 
possession  of  Christ. 

The  man  of  hard  calculation,  the  lover  of  facts, 
may  feast  his  head  and  starve  his  heart ; — the  senti- 
mentalist may  fill  up  his  full  measure  of  emotion,  and 
destroy  his  understanding ; — the  poet  may  render 
his  imagination  gigantic,  and  dwarf  his  judgment ; — 
the  student  may  render  his  brain  the  very  refine- 
ment of  logic,  and  his  conscience  may  be  dying : — 
but  give  us  Christ  for  our  study,  Christ  for  our 
science,  Christ  for  our  pursuit,  and  our  whole  man 
is  filled.  In  his  religion  we  find  enough  to  exercise 
the  faculties  of  the  most  astute  reasoner,  while  yet 
our  heart,  by  the  contemplation,  shall  be  warmed 
— yea,  made  to  burn  within  us.  In  him  we  find 
room  for  imngination's  utmost  stretch,  while  yet  his 


COMPLETE    IN   CHRIST.  237 

kind  hand  preserves  us  from  wild  and  romantic 
visions.  He  can  satisfy  our  soul  in  its  every  part. 
Our  whole  man  feels  that  his  truth  is  our  soul's 
proper  food,  that  its  powers  were  made  to  appropri- 
ate Ilim^  while  He  is  so  constituted  that  he  is 
adapted  to  its  every  w^ant.  Herein  lies  the  fault 
of  all  human  systems  of  religion,  they  do  but  sub- 
jugate and  enlist  a  portion  of  the  man  ;  they  light 
up  with  doubtful  brilliance  one  single  chamber  of 
his  soul,  and  leave  the  rest  in  darkness  ;  they  cover 
him  in  one  part,  and  allow  the  biting  frost  to  be- 
numb and  freeze  the  other,  until  the* man  feels  that 
something  is  neglected,  for  he  bears  a  gnawing 
within  him  wdiich  his  false  religion  cannot  satisfy. 
But  let  the  glorious  Gospel  of  the  blessed  Jesus 
come  into  the  man,  let  the  Holy  Spirit  apply  the 
word  with  power,  and  the  w^hole  man  is  filled — 
every  nerve,  like  the  string  of  a  harp,  is  wound  up 
and  gives  forth  melody — every  power  blesses  God 
— every  portion  is  lighted  up  with  splendour,  and 
the  man  exclaims — 

"There  rest,  my  long  divided  soul, 
.     Fixed  on  this  mighty  centre,  rest." 

"Shaddai,"  the  Lord  all-sufiicient,  is  a  portion 
large  enough  to  afford  us  fnlness  of  joy  and  peace. 
In  Him,  as  well  as  in  his  house,  "  there  is  bread 
enough  and  to  spare."  In  the  absence  of  all  other 
good  things,  he  is  an  overflowing  river  of  mercy, 


238  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUK. 

and  when  other  blessings  are  present,  they  owe  all 
their  value  to  Him.  He  makes  our  cup  so  full  that 
it  runneth  over,  and  so  he  is  just  what  man's  insa- 
tiable heart  requires.  It  is  a  fact  which  all  men 
must  acknowledge,  that  we  are  never  full  till  we 
run  over — the  soul  never  has  enough  till  it  has 
more  than  enough ;  while  we  can  contain,  and 
measure,  and  number  our  ^possessions,  we  are  not 
quite  so  rich  as  we  desire.  Pauperis  est  niLmerare 
fecus — we  count  ourselves  poor  so  long  as  we  can 
count  our  wealth.  "We  are  never  satisfied  till  we 
have  more  thfin  will  satisfy  us.  But  in  Jesus 
there  is  that  superabundance,  that  lavish  richness, 
that  outdoing  of  desire,  that  we  are  obliged  to 
exclaim,  '-''It  is  enough  —  Fm  filled  to  the 
hrhnP 

How  desirable  is  that  state  of  mind  which  makes 
every  part  of  the  soul  a  spring  of  joys  !  The  most 
of  men  have  but  one  well  of  mirth  within  them; 
according  to  their  temperament,  they  derive  their 
happiness  from  different  powers  of  the  mind — one 
from  bold  imagination,  another  from  solitary  medi- 
tation, and  a  third  from  memory  ;  but  the  believer 
has  many  wells  and  many  palm-trees,  for  all  that  is 
within  him  is  blessed  by  God.  As  the  waters  cov- 
er the  sea,  so  has  Divine  grace  flooded  every  por- 
tion of  his  beino;.  He  has  no  "  achins:  void,"  no 
"salt  land,  and  not  inhabited,"  no  "  clouds  without 
rain ;"  but  where  once  were  disappointment  and 


COMPLETE   IN    CHRIST.  239 

discontent,  there  are  now  "  pleasures  for  evermore," 
for  the  soul  is  "  filled  in  Ilini." 

Seek  then,  beloved  Christian  reader,  to  know 
more  and  more  of  Jesus.  Think  not  that  thou  art 
master  of  the  science  of  Christ  crucified.  Thou 
kaowest  enough  of  him  to  be  supremely  blest ;  but 
thou  art  even  now  but  at  the  beginning.  ISTotwith- 
standing  all  thou  hast  learned  of  him,  remember 
thou  hast  but  read  the  child's  first  primer ;  thou 
art  as  yet  on  one  of  the  lower  forms  ;  thou  hast  not 
yet  a  degree  in  the  sacred  college.  Thou  hast  but 
dipped  the  sole  of  thy  foot  in  that  stream  wherein 
the  glorified  are  now  swimming.  Thou  art  but  a 
gleaner — thou  hast  not  at  present  handled  the 
sheaves  with  which  the  ransomed  return  to  Zion. 
King  Jesus  hath  not  showed  thee  all  the  treasures 
of  his  house,  nor  canst  thou  more  than  guess  the 
value  of  the  least  of  his  jewels.  Thou  hast  at  this 
moment  a  very  faint  idea  of  the  glory  to  which  thy 
Hedeemer  has  raised  thee,  or  the  completeness  with 
which  he  has  enriched  thee.  Thy  joys  are  but  sips 
of  the  cup,  but  crumbs  from  under  the  table.  Up 
then  to  thine  inheritance,  the  land  is  before  thee, 
walk  through  and  survey  the  lot  of  thine  inherit- 
ance ;  but  this  know,  that  until  thou  hast  washed 
in  Jordan,  thou  shalt  be  but  as  a  beginner,  not  only 
in  the  whole  science  of  Divine  love,  but  even  in 
this  one  short  but  comprehensive  lesson,  "  Complete 
IN  Him." 


TO   THE   UNCOKYEETED   EEADEK. 


Friend, — We  will  yenture  one  assertion,  in  the 
full  belief  that  thou  canst  not  deny  it — thou  art  not 
entirely  satisfied.  Thou  art  one  of  the  weary-foot- 
ed seekers  of  a  joy  which  thou  wilt  never  iind  out 
of  Christ.  Oh  !  let  this  chapter  teach  thee  to  fore- 
go thy  vain  pursuit,  and  look  in  another  direction. 
Be  assured  that,  as  hitherto  thy  chase  has  been  a 
disappointment,  so  shall  it  continue  to  the  end  un- 
less thou  dost  run  in  another  manner.  Others  have 
digged  the  mines  of  worldly  pleasure,  and  have 
gained  nothing  but  anguish  and  despair  ;  wilt  thou 
search  asrain  where  others  have  found  nothinfi:? 
Let  the  experience  of  ages  teach  thee  the  fallacy 
of  human  hopes,  and  let  thine  own  failures  warn 
thee  of  new  attempts. 

But  hark  !  sinner,  all  thou  needest  is  in  Christ. 
He  will  fill  thee,  satisfy  thee,  enrich  thee,  and  glad- 
den thee.  Oh !  let  thy  friend  beseech  thee,  "  Taste 
and  see  that  the  Lord  is  good." 


YII. 
LOYE    TO    JESUS 


Lord,   thou  knoTvest   all   tilings ;    thou  knowest  that  I   love 
thee." — John  xxi.  17. 


Christ  riglitly  known  is  most  surely  Christ  be- 
loved. 'No  sooner  do  we  discern  liis  excellencies, 
behold  his  glories,  and  partake  of  his  bounties,  than 
onr  heart  is  at  once  moved  with  love  towards  him. 
Let  him  but  speak  pardon  to  our  guilty  souls,  we 
shall  not  long  delay  to  speak  words  of  love  to  his 
most  adorable  person.  It  is  utterly  impossible  for 
a  man  to  know  himself  to  be  complete  in  Christ, 
and  to  be  destitute  of  love  towards  Christ  Jesus. 
A  believer  may  be  in  Christ,  and  yet  from  a  holy 
jealousy,  he  may  doubt  his  own  affection  to  his 
Lord  ?  but  love  is  most  assuredly  in  his  bosom,  for 
that  breast  which  has  never  heaved  with  love  to 
Jesus,  is  yet  a  stranger  to  the  blood  of  eprinkling. 

11  241 


24:2  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUK. 

He  tliat  lovetli  not,  hatli  not  seen  Christ,  neither 
known  him.  As  the  seed  expands  in  the  moisture 
and  the  heat,  and  sends  forth  its  green  blade — so 
when  the  sonl  becomes  affected  with  the  mercy  of 
the  Saviour,  it  puts  forth  its  shoots  of  love  to  hiir 
and  desire  after  him. 

This  love  is  no  mere  heat  of  excitement,  nor  doee 
it  end  in  a  flow  of  rapturous  words  ;  but  it  causes 
the  soul  to  bring  forth  the  fruits  of  righteousness, 
to  its  own  joy  and  the  Lord's  glory.  It  is  a  prin- 
ciple, active  and  strong,  which  exercises  itself 
unto  godliness,  and  produces  abundantly  things 
which  are  lovely  and  of  good  repute.  Some  of 
these  we  intend  to  mention,  earnestly  desiring  that 
all  of  us  may  exhibit  them  in  our  lives.  Dr.  Owen 
very  concisely  sums  up  the  efi'ects  of  true  love  in 
the  two  words,  adherence  and  assimilation:  the 
one  knitting  the  heart  to  Jesus,  and  the  other  con- 
forming us  to  his  image.  This  is  an  excellent  sum- 
mary ;  but  as  our  design  is  to  be  more  explicit,  we 
shall  in  detail  review  the  more  usual  and  pleasing 
of  the  displays  of  the  power  of  grace,  afforded  by 
the  soul  which  is  under  the  influence  of  love  to 
Christ. 

1.  One  of  the  earliest  and  most  important  signs 
of  love  to  Jesus  is  tJie  deed  of  solemn  dedication  of 
ourselves,  with  all  we  have  and  are,  most  unreserv- 
edly to  the  Lord's  service. 

Dr.  Doddridge  has  recommended  a  solemn  cove- 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  243 

nant  between  the  soul  and  God,  to  be  signed  and 
sealed  with  due  deliberation  and  most  fervent 
prayer.  Many  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  saints 
have  adopted  this  excellent  method  of  devot- 
ing themselves  in  very  deed  nnto  the  Lord,  and 
have  reaped  no  little  benefit  from  the  re-perusal  of 
that  solemn  document  when  they  have  afresh  re- 
newed the  act  of  dedication.  The  writer  of  the 
present  volume  conceives  that  burial  with  Christ 
in  Baptism  is  a  far  more  scriptural  and  expressive 
sign  of  dedication  ;  but  he  is  not  inclined  to  deny 
his  brethren  the  liberty  of  confirming  that  act  by 
the  other,  if  it  seem  good  unto  them.  The  remarks 
of  John  E'ewton  upon  this  subject  are  so  cautious 
and  sententious,*  that  we  cannot  forbear  quoting 
them  at  length: — "  Many  judicious  persons  have 
diff'ered  in  their  sentiments  with  respect  to  the  pro- 
priety or  utility  of  such  written  engagements. 
They  are  usually  entered  into,  if  at  all,  in  an  early 
stage  of  profession,  wdien,  though  the  heart  is  w^arm, 
there  has  been  little  actual  experience  of  its  deceit- 
fulness.  In  the  day  when  the  Lord  turns  our 
mourning  into  joy,  and  speaks  peace,  by  the  blood 
of  his  cross,  to  the  conscience  burdened  by  guilt  and 
fear,  resolutions  are  formed  which,  though  honest 
and  sincere,  prove,  like  Peter's  promise  to  our  Lord, 
too  weak   to   withstand   the   force   of  subsequent 

*  See  "Life  of  Grimshaw,"  p.  13. 


2M  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOtJK. 

unforeseen  temptation.  Sncli  vows,  made  in  too 
much  dependence  ii23on  our  own  strength,  not  only 
occasion  a  farther  discovery  of  our  weakness,  but 
frequently  give  the  enemy  advantage  to  terrify 
and  distress  the  mind.  Therefore,  some  persons, 
of  more  mature  experience,  discountenance  the 
practice  as  legal  and  improper.  But,  as  a  scaffold, 
though  no  part  of  an  edifice,  and  designed  to  be 
taken  down  when  the  building  is  finished,  is  yet 
useful  for  a  time  in  carrying  on  the  work — so  many 
young  converts  have  been  helped  by  expedients 
which,  when  their  judgments  are  more  ripened, 
and  their  faith  more  confirmed,  are  no  longer  ne- 
cessary. Every  true  believer,  of  course,  ought 
to  devote  himself  to  the  service  of  the  Eedeemer ; 
yea,  he  must  and  will,  for  he  is  constrained  by  love. 
He  will  do  it  not  once  only,  but  daily.  And  many 
who  have  done  it  in  writing  can  look  back  upon 
the  transaction  with  thankfulness  to  the  end  of  life, 
recollecting  it  as  a  season  of  peculiar  solemnity  and 
impression,  accompanied  with  emotions  of  heart 
neither  to  be  forgotten  nor  recalled.  And  the 
Lord  who  does  not  despise  the  day  of  small  things, 
nor  break  the  bruised  reed,  nor  quench  the  smok- 
ing flax,  accepts  and  ratifies  the  desire ;  and  merci- 
fully pardons  the  mistakes  which  they  discover,  as 
they  attain  to  more  knowledge  of  him  and  of  them- 
selves. And  they  are  encouraged,  if  not  warranted 
to  make  their  surrender  in  this  manner,  by  the 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  245 

words  of  tliG  prophet  Isaiah  : — '  One  shall  saj,  I  am 
the  Lord's,  and  another  shall  call  himself  by  the 
name  of  Jacob,  and  another  shall  subscribe  with 
his  hand  to  the  Lord,  and  surname  himself  bj  the 
name  of  Israel.'  "  ^ 

Whatever  view  we  may  take  of  the  form  of  con- 
secration, we  must  all  agree  that  the  deed  itself  is 
absolutely  necessary  as  a  first  fruit  of  the  Spirit, 
and  that  where  it  is  absent  there  is  none  of  the  love 
of  which  we  are  treatino^.  We  are  also  all  of  us  in 
nniou  upon  the  point  that  the  surrender  must  be 
sincere,  entire,  unconditional,  and  deliberate;  and 
that  it  must  be  accompanied  by  deep  humility, 
from  a  sense  of  our  unworthiness,  simple  faith  in 
the  blood  of  Jesus  as  the  only  medium  of  accep- 
tance, and  constant  reliance  upon  the  Holy  Spirit 
for  the  fulfilment  of  our  vows.  We  must  give  our- 
selves to  Jesus,  to  be  his,  to  honour  and  to  obey,  if 
necessary,  even  unto  death.  We  must  be  ready 
with  Mary  to  break  the  alabaster  box,  with  Abra- 
ham to  ofi:er  up  our  Isaac,  with  the  apostles  to  re- 
nounce our  worldly  wealth  at  the  bidding  of  Christ, 
with  Moses  to  despise  the  riches  of  Egypt,  with 
Daniel  to  enter  the  lion's  den,  and  with  the  three 
holy  children  to  tread  the  furnace.  We  cannot  re- 
tain a  portion  of  the  price,  like  Ananias,  nor  love 
this  present  world  with  Demas,  if  we  be  the  genu- 

*  Isa.  xliv.  5. 


24:6  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

ine  followers  of  the  Lamb.     We  consecrate  our  all 
when  we  receive  Christ  as  all. 

The  professing  Church  has  many  in  its  midst 
who,  if  they  have  ever  given  themselves  to  Christ, 
appear  to  be  very  oblivious  of  their  solemn  obli- 
gation. They  can  scarce  afford  a  fragment  of  their 
wealth  for  the  Master's  cause  ;  their  time  is  wasted, 
or  employed  in  any  service  but  that  of  Jesus  ;  their 
talents  are  absorbed  in  worldly  pursuits ;  and  the 
veriest  refuse  of  their  influence  is  thought  to  be  an 
abundant  satisfaction  of  all  the  claims  of  heaven. 
Can  such  men  be  honest  in  their  professions  of  at- 
tachment to  the  Lamb  ?  "Was  their  dedication  a 
sincere  one  ?  Do  they  not  afford  us  grave  suspi- 
cion of  hypocrisy  ?  Could  they  live  in  such  a 
fashion  if  their  hearts  were  right  with  God  ?  Can 
they  have  any  just  idea  of  the  Saviour's  deserv- 
ings  ?  Are  their  hearts  really  renewed  ?  We  leave 
them  to  answer  for  themselves  ;  but  w^e  must  en 
treat  them  also  to  ponder  the  following  questions, 
as  they  shall  have  one  day  to  render  an  account  to 
their  Judge.  Doth  not  God  abhor  the  lying  lip  ? 
And  is  it  not  lying  against  God  to  profess  that 
wdiich  we  do  not  carry  out  ?  Doth  not  the  Saviour 
loathe  those  who  are  neither  cold  nor  hot  ?  And  are 
not  those  most  truly  in  that  case  who  serve  God 
with  half  a  heart  ?  What  must  be  the  doom  of 
those  who  have  insulted  Heaven  with  empty  vows  ? 
Will  not  a  false  profession  entail  a  fearful  punish- 


LOVE   TO   JEStJS.  2i7 

ment  upon  tlie  soul  for  over  ?  And  is  lie  not  false 
wlio  serves  not  the  Lord  with  all  his  might  ?  Is  it 
a  little  thing  to  be  branded  as  a  robber  of  God  ?  Is 
it  a  trifle  to  break  our  vows  with  the  Ahnighty  ? 
Shall  a  man  mock  his  Maker,  and  go  unpunished  ? 
And  how  shall  he  abide  the  day  of  the  wrath  of 
God? 

Maj  God  make  us  ever  careful  that,  by  his  Holy 
Spirit's  aid,  we  may  be  able  to  live  unto  him  as 
those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead ;  and  since  in 
many  things  we  fall  short  of  his  perfect  will,  let  us 
humble  ourselves,  and  devoutly  seek  the  moulding 
of  his  hand  to  renew  us  day  by  day.  We  ought 
ever  to  desire  a  perfect  life  as  the  result  of  full  con- 
secration, even  though  we  shall  often  groan  that 
"  it  is  not  yet  attained."     Our  prayer  should  be — 

"  Take  my  soul  and  body's  powers  ; 
Take  my  memory,  mind,  and  will ; 
All  my  goods,  and  all  my  hours  ; 
All  I  know,  and  all  I  feel ; 
All  I  think,  or  speak,  or  do  ; 
Take  my  heart — ^but  make  it  new."  * 

2.  Love  to  Christ  will  maize  us  "  coy  and  tender 
to  offend r — We  sliall  be  most  careful  lest  the  Sa- 
viour should  be  grieved  by  our  ill  manners.  When 
some  much-loved  friend  is  visiting  our  house,  we  are 
ever  fearful  lest  he  should  be  ill  at  ease ;  we  there- 

*  C.  Wesley. 


248  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUE. 

fore  watcli  every  movement  in  tlie  family,  that  no- 
thing may  disturb  the  quiet  we  desire  him  to 
enjoy.  How  frequently  do  we  apologise  for  the 
homeliness  of  our  fare,  our  own  ajDjoarent  inatten- 
tion, the  forgetfulness  of  our  servants,  or  the  rude- 
ness of  our  children.  If  we  suppose  him  to  be 
uncomfortable,  how  readily  will  w^e  disarrange  our 
household  to  give  him  pleasure,  and  how  disturbed 
are  we  at  the  least  symptom  that  he  is  not  satisfied 
with  our  hospitality.  We  are  grieved  if  our  woixls 
appear  cold  towards  him,  or  our  acts  unkind.  Wq 
would  sooner  that  he  should  oTieve  us  than  that  we 
should  displease  him.  Surely  we  should  not  treat 
our  heavenly  Friend  worse  than  our  earthly  ac- 
quaintance ;  but  we  should  sedulously  endeavour  to 
please  Him  in  all  things  who  pleased  not  himself. 
Such  is  the  influence  of  real  devotion  to  our  pre- 
cious Kedeemer,  that  the  more  the  mind  is  |)er- 
vaded  with  affection  to  him,  the  more  watchful 
shall  we  be  to  give  no  offence  in  anything,  and  the 
more  sorrow  shall  we  suffer  because  our  nature  is 
yet  so  imperfect  that  in  many  things  we  come  short 
of  his  glorj^.  A  believer,  in  a  healthy  state  of 
mind,  will  be  extremely  sensitive ;  he  w^ill  avoid 
the  appearance  of  evil,  and  guard  against  the  be- 
ginnings of  sin.  He  will  often  be  afraid  to  put  one 
foot  before  another,  lest  he  should  tread  upon  for- 
bidden ground ;  he  will  tremble  to  sj^eak,  lest  his 
words  should  not  be  ordered  aright ;  he  will  be 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  249 

timid  in  the  world,  lest  lie  should  be  surprised  into 
transgression  ;  and  even  in  liis  holy  deeds  he  will 
be  watchful  over  his  heart,  lest  he  should  mock  ]iis 
Lord.     This  feeling  of   fear  lest  we  should  "  slip 
with  our  feet,"  is  a  precious  feature  of  true  spi- 
ritual life.     It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  it  is  so 
lightly  prized  by  many,  in  comparison  with  the 
more  martial  virtues  ;  for,  despite  its  apparent  insig- 
nificance, it  is  one  of  the  choicest  fruits  of  the  Spi- 
rit, and  its  absence  is  one  of  the  most  deplorable 
evidences  of  spiritual  decay.     A  heedless  spirit  is 
a  curse  to  the  soul ;  a  rash,  presumptuous  conver- 
sation will  eat  as  doth  a  canker.     "  Too-bold  "  w^as 
never  Too-wise  nor  Too-lovins:.    Careful  walkins^  is 
one  of  the  best  securities  of  safe  and  happy  stand- 
ing.    It  is  solemn  cause  for  doubting  when  we  are 
indifferent  in  our  behaviour  to  our  best  Friend. 
When  the  new  creature  is  active,  it  will  be  indig- 
nant at  the  very  name  of  sin ;  it  will  condemn  it 
as  the  murderer  of  the  Redeemer,   and  wage  as 
fierce  a  war  against  it  as  the  Lord  did  with  Ama- 
leck.      Christ's   foes   are   our   foes   when   we   are 
Christ's  friends.     Love  of  Christ  and  love  of  sin 
are  elements  too  hostile  to  reiern  in  the  same  heart. 
We  shall  hate  iniquity  simply  because  Jesus  hates 
it.     A   good   divine  *  writes  : — "  If   any  pretend 
unto  an  assurance  of  forgiveness  tlirough  the  me- 

*  John  Brine. 
11* 


250  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

rits  of  JesTis,  without  aiij  experience  of  shame, 
sorrow,  and  hatred  of  sin,  on  account  of  its  vile 
nature,  I  dare  boldly  pronounce  such  a  pretension 
to  be  no  other  than  a  vain  presumption,  that  is 
likely  to  be  followed  by  an  eternal  loss  of  their 
immortal  souls." 

He  that  is  not  afraid  of  sinning  has  good  need  to 
be  afraid  of  damning.  Truth  hates  error,  holiness 
abhorreth  guilt,  and  grace  cannot  but  detest  sin.  If 
we  do  not  desire  to  be  cautious  to  avoid  offending 
our  Lord,  we  may  rest  confident  that  we  have  no 
j)art  in  liim,  for  true  love  to  Christ  will  rather  die 
than  wound  him.  Hence  love  to  Christ  is  "  the 
best  antidote  to  idolatry  ;"^  for  it  prevents  any 
object  from  occupying  the  rightful  throne  of  the  Sa- 
viour. The  believer  dares  not  admit  a  rival  into  his 
heart,  knowing  that  this  would  grievously  offend 
the  King.  The  simplest  way  of  preventing  an  ex- 
cessive love  of  the  creature  is  to  set  all  our  affection 
upon  the  Creator.  Give  thy  whole  heart  to  thy 
Lord,  and  thou  canst  not  idolize  the  thins^s  of  earth, 
for  thou  wilt  have  nothing  left  wherewith  to  wor- 
ship) them. 

Z.  If  we  love  the  Lord  Jesus  we  shall  he  obedient 
to  his  commands. — False,  vain,  and  boasting  pre- 
tenders to  friendship  with  Christ  think  it  enough 
to  talk  fluently  of  him ;  but  humble,  sincere,  and 

*  James  Hamilton. 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  251 

faithful  lovers  of  the  Lord  are  not  content  with 
words — they  must  be  doing  the  will  of  their  Mas- 
ter. As  the  affectionate  wife  obeys  because  she 
loves  her  hnsband,  so  does  the  redeemed  soul  de- 
light in  keeping  the  commands  of  Jesus,  although 
compelled  by  no  force  but  that  of  love.  This  di- 
vine principle  will  render  every  duty  pleasant ;  yea, 
when  the  labour  is  in  itself  irksome,  this  heavenly 
grace  will  quicken  us  in  its  performance  by  remind- 
ing us  that  it  is  honourable  to  suffer  for  our  Lord. 
It  will  induce  an  universal  obedience  to  all  known 
commands,  and  overcome  that  captious  spirit  of 
rebellion  which  takes  exception  to  many  precepts, 
and  obeys  only  as  far  as  it  chooses  to  do  so.  It  in- 
fuses not  the  mere  act,  but  the  very  spirit  of  obe- 
dience, inclining  the  inmost  heart  to  feel  that  its 
new-born  nature  cannot  but  obey.  True,  old  cor- 
ruption is  still  there  ;  but  this  does  but  prove  the 
hearty  willingness  of  the  soul  to  be  faithful  to  the 
law^s  of  its  King,  seeing  that  it  is  the  cause  of  a 
perpetual  and  violent  contest — the  flesh  lusting 
against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  striving  against 
the  flesh.  We  are  willing  to  serve  God  when  we 
love  his  Son  :  there  may  be  obstacles,  but  no  un- 
willingness. We  would  be  holy  even  as  God  is 
holy,  and  perfect  even  as  our  Father  which  is  in 
heaven  is  perfect.  And  to  proceed  yet  further, 
love  not  only  removes  all  unwillingness,  but 
inspires  the  soul  w^ith  a  delight  in  the  service  of 


252  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

God,  bj  making  tlie  lowest  act  of  service  to  appear 
honourable.  A  heathen  ^  once  exclaimed,  Deo 
servire  est  regnare — "  to  serve  God  is  to  reign  :"  so 
does  the  renewed  heart  joyfully  acknowledge  the 
high  honour  which  it  receives  by  obedience  to  its 
Lord.  He  counts  it  not  only  his  Teasonaljle^  but 
his  delightful  service,  to  be  a  humble  and  submis- 
sive disciple  of  his  gracious  Friend.  He  would  be 
unha]3py  if  he  had  no  opportunity  of  obedience — 
his  love  requires  channels  for  its  fulness  ;  he  would 
pray  for  work  if  there  were  none,  for  he  includes 
his  duties  among  his  privileges.  In  the  young 
dawn  of  true  religion  this  is  very  observable — 
would  that  it  were  equally  so  ever  after !  Oh ! 
how  jealous  we  were  lest  one  divine  ordinance 
should  be  neglected,  or  one  rule  violated.  [N^othing 
pained  us  more  than  our  own  too  frequent  wander- 
ings, and  nothing  gratifie-d  us  more  than  to  be 
allowed  to  hew  wood  or  draw  water  at  his  biddins;. 
Why  is  it  not  so  now  with  us  all?  Why 
are  those  wings,  once  outstretched  for  speedy  flight, 
now  folded  in  sloth  ?  Is  our  Redeemer  less  de- 
serving ?  or  is  it  not  that  we  are  less  loving  ?  Let  us 
seek  by  greater  meditation  upon  the  work  and  love 
of  our  Saviour,  by  the  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to 
renew  our  love  to  him  :  otherwise  our  lamentation 
will  soon  be — "  How  is  the  much  fine  gold  become 
dim !     How  has  the  glory  departed  !" 

*  Seneca. 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  253 

Jdm 


4.  Love  to  Christ  loill  imjpel  us  to  defend  It 
mlnst  his  foes. — 


against  his  foes. — 


"If  any  touch  my  friend,  or  his  good  name, 
It  is  my  honour  and  my  love  to  free  his  blasted  fame 
From  the  least  spot  or  thought  of  blame."* 

Good,  men  are  more  tender  over  the  reputation  of 
Christ  than  over  their  own  good  name ;  for  they 
are  willing  to  lose  the  world's  favourable  opinion 
rather  than  that  Christ  should  be  dishonoured. 
This  is  no  more  than  Jesus  has  a  right  to  expect. 
AYould.  not  he  be  a  sorry  brother  w4io  should  hear 
me  insulted  and  slandered,  and  yet  be  dumb  ? 
Would  not  he  be  destitute  of  affection  w^ho  would 
allow  the  character  of  his  nearest  relative  to  be 
trampled  in  the  dust  without  a  struggle  on  his  be- 
half ?  And  is  not  he  a  poor  style  of  Christian  who 
would  calmly  submit  to  hear  his  Lord  abused? 
We  could  bear  to  be  trampled  in  the  very  mire 
that  He  miglit  be  exalted ;  but  to  see  our  glorious 
Head  dishonoured,  is  a  sight  Vv^e  cannot  tamely  be- 
hold. We  would  not,  like  Peter,  smite  his  ene- 
mies w^ith  the  sword  of  man  ;  but  we  w^ould  use  the 
sword  of  the  Spirit  as  well  as  we  are  enabled. 
Oh !  how  has  our  blood  boiled  when  the  name  of 
Jesus  has  been  the  theme  of  scornful  jest !  how 
have  we  been  ready  to  invoke  the  fire  of  Elias 
upon  the  guilty  blasphemers !  or  when  our  more 

*  Herbert. 


254  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

carnal  heat  has  subsided,  how  have  we  wept,  even 
to  the  sobbing  of  a  child,  at  the  reproach  cast  upon 
his  most  hallowed  name !  Many  a  time  we  have 
been  ready  to  burst  with  anguish  when  we  have 
been  speechless  before  the  scoffer,  because  the  Lord 
had  shut  us  up,  that  we  could  not  come  forth  ;  but 
at  other  seasons,  w^ith  courage  more  than  we  had 
considered  to  be  within  the  range  of  our  capability, 
w^e  have  boldly  reproved  the  wicked,  and  sent  them 
back  abashed. 

It  is  a  lovely  spectacle  to  behold  the  timid  and 
feeble  defending  the  citadel  of  truth :  not  with  hard 
blows  of  logic,  or  sounding  cannonade  of  rhetoric — 
but  with  that  tearful  earnestness,  and  implicit  con- 
fidence, against  wdiich  the  attacks  of  revilers  are 
utterly  powerless.  Overthrown  in  argument,  they 
overcome  by  faith  ;  covered  with  contempt,  they 
think  it  all  joy  if  they  may  but  avert  a  solitary 
stain  from  the  escutcheon  of  their  Lord.  "  Call 
me  what  thou  wilt,"  sa3^s  the  believer,  "  but  speak 
not  ill  of  my  Beloved.  Llere,  plough  these  shoul- 
ders with  your  lashes,  but  spare  yourselves  the  sin 
of  cursing  him !  Ay,  let  me  die  :  I  am  all  too 
happy  to  be  slain,  if  my  Lord's  most  glorious  cause 
shall  live  !" 

Ask  every  regenerate  child  of  God  whether  he 
does  not  count  it  his  privilege  to  maintain  the 
honour  of  his  Master's  name ;  and  though  his 
answer  may  be  worded  with  holy  caution,  you  will 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  255 

•not  fail  to  discover  in  it  enough  of  tliat  determined 
resolution  which,  by  the  blessing  of  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit, will  enable  him  to  stand  fast  in  the  evil  day. 
lie  may  be  careful  to  reply  to  such  a  question,  lest 
he  should  be  presumptuous ;  but  should  he  stand 
like  the  three  holy  children  before  an  enraged 
tyrant,  in  the  very  mouth  of  a  burning  fiery  fur- 
nace, his  answer,  like  theirs,  would  be,  "  We  are 
not  careful  to  answer  thee  in  this  matter.  If  it  be 
so,  our  God  whom  we  serve  is  able  to  deliver  us 
out  of  the  burning  fiery  furnace,  and  he  will  deli- 
ver us  out  of  thy  hand,  O  king  !  But  if  not,  be  it 
known  unto  thee,  O  king,  that  we  wdll  not  serve 
thy  gods,  nor  worship  the  golden  image  which  thou 
hast  set  up." 

In  some  circles  it  is  believed  that  in  the  event  of 
another  reign  of  persecution,  there  are  very  few  in 
our  churches  who  would  endure  the  fiery  trial : 
nothing,  we  think,  is  more  unfounded.  It  is  our 
firm  opinion  that  the  feeblest  saint  in  our  midst 
would  receive  grace  for  the  struggle,  and  come  ofi:' 
more  than  a  conqueror.  God's  children  are  the 
same  now  as  ever.  Ileal  piety  will  as  well  endure 
the  fire  in  one  century  as  another.  There  is  the 
same  love  to  impel  the  martyrdom,  the  same  grace 
to  sustain  the  sufi'erer,  the  same  promises  to  cheer 
his  heart,  and  the  same  crown  to  adorn  his  head. 
We  believe  that  those  followers  of  Jesus  who  may 
perhaps  one  day  be  called  to  the  stake,  will  die  as 


256  THE    SAIXT    AND    HIS    SAYIOUE. 

readily  as  any  ^Yho  have  gone  before.  Love  is  still 
as  strong  as  death,  and  grace  is  still  made  perfect 
in  weakness. 

"  Sweet  is  the  cross,  above  all  sweets, 
To  souls  enamoured  with  His  smiles ; 
The  keenest  woe  life  ever  meets, 
Love  strips  of  all  its  terrors,  and  beguiles."* 

This  is  as  true  to-day,  as  it  was  a  thousand  years  ago. 
We  may  be  weak  in  grace,  but  grace  is  not  weak : 
it  is  still  omnipotent,  and.  able  to  endure  the  trying 
day. 

There  is  one  form  of  this  jealousy  for  the  honour 
of  the  cross  wliich  will  ever  distinguish  the 
devout  Christian  : — he  will  tremble  lest  he  himself, 
by  word  or  deed,  by  omission  of  duty  or  commis- 
sion of  sin,  should  dishonour  the  holy  religion 
which  he  has  professed.  He  will  hold  perpetual 
controversy  with  "sinful  self"  on  this  account, 
and  will  loathe  himself  when  he  has  inadvertently 
given  occasion  to  the  enemy  to  blaspheme.  The 
King's  favourite  will  be  sad  if,  by  mistake  or  care- 
lessness, he  has  been  the  abettor  of  traitors :  he 
desires  to  be  beyond  reproach,  that  his  Monarch 
may  suffer  no  disgrace  from  his  courtier.  IsTothing 
has  injured  the  cause  of  Christ  more  than  the  in- 
consistencies of  his  avowed  friends.     Jealousy  for 

*  Madame  Guion. 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  257 

tlie  honour   of  Christ   is   an   admirable   mark   of 
grace. 

5.  A  firm  attachment  to  the  jyerson  of  Christ  loill 
create  a  constant  anxiety  to  jpromotelds  cause. — With 
some  it  has  produced  that  burning  zeal  y/hich  ena- 
bled them  to  endure  banishment,  to  brave  dangers, 
and  to  forsake  comforts,  in  order  to  evangelize  an 
ungrateful  jDcople,  among  whom  they  were  not  un- 
willing to  suffer  persecution,  or  even  death,  so  that 
they  might  but  enlarge  the  borders  of  Immanuol's 
land.  This  has  inspired  the  laborious  evangelist 
with  inexhaustible  strength  to  proclaim  the  word 
of  his  Lord  from  place  to  place,  amidst  the  slander 
of  foes  and  the  coldness  of  friends  ;  this  has  moved 
the  generous  heart  to  devise  liberal  things,  that  the 
cause  might  not  flag  for  lack  of  temporal  supplies  ; 
and  this,  in  a  thousand  ways,  has  stirred  up  the  host 
of  God,  with  various  wea23ons  and  in  divers  fields, 
to  fight  the  battles  of  their  Lord.  There  is  little  or 
no  love  to  Jesus  in  that  man  who  is  indifferent  con- 
cerning the  progress  of  the  truth.  The  man  whose 
soul  is  saturated  with  grateful  affection  to  his  cru- 
cified Lord  will  weep  when  the  enemy  seems  to  get 
an  advantage  ;  he  will  water  his  couch  with  tears 
when  he  sees  a  declining  church  ;  he  will  lift  up 
his  voice  like  a  trumpet  to  arouse  the  shimbering, 
and  with  his  own  hand  will  labour  day  and  night 
to  build  up  the  breaches  of  Zion  ;  and  should  his 
efforts  be  successful,  with  what  joyous  gratitude 


258  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

will  he  lift  up  liis  heart  imto  the  King  of  Israel, 
extolling  him  as  much — yea,  more — for  mercies 
given  to  the  Church  than  for  bounties  conferred 
npon  himgelf.  How  diligently  and  indefatigably 
will  he  labour  for  his  Lord,  humbly  conceiving 
that  he  cannot  do  too  much,  or  even  enough,  for 
one  who  gave  his  heart's  blood  as  the  price  of  *our 
peace. 

We  lament  that  too  many  among  us  are  like  Is- 
sachar,  who  was  described  as  "  a  strong  ass  crouch- 
ing clown  between  two  burdens," — too  lazy  to  per- 
form the  works  of  piety  so  imperatively  demanded 
at  our  hands  :  but  the  reason  of  this  sad  condition 
is  not  that  fervent  love  is  unable  to  produce  activi- 
ty, but  that  such  are  deplorably  destitute  of  that 
intense  affection  which  grace  begets  in  the  soul. 

Love  to  Christ  smoothes  the  path  of  duty,  and 
wings  the  feet  to  travel  it :  it  is  the  bow  which  im- 
pels the  arrow  of  obedience  ;  it  is  the  mainspring 
moving  the  wheels  of  duty  ;  it  is  the  strong  arm 
tugging  the  oar  of  diligence.  Love  is  the  marrow 
of  the  bones  of  fidelity,  the  blood  in  the  veins  of 
piety,  the  sinew  of  spiritual  strength — yea,  the  life 
of  sincere  devotion.  He  that  hath  love  can  no  more 
be  motionless  than  the  aspen  in  the  gale,  the  sere 
leaf  in  the  hurricane,  or  the  spray  in  the  tempest. 
As  well  may  hearts  cease  to  beat,  as  love  to  labour. 
Love  is  instinct  with  activity,  it  cannot  be  idle ;  it 
is  full  of  energy,  it  cannot  content  itself  wdth  lit- 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  259 

ties  :  it  is  the  well-spring  of  heroism,  and  great 
deeds  are  the  gnsliings  of  its  fountain ;  it  is  a  giant 
— it  heapeth  monntains  upon  moimtains,  and  thinks 
the  'pile  hut  little  ;  it  is  a  mighty  mystery,  for  it 
changes  hitter  into  sweet ;  it  calls  death  life,  and 
life  death,  and  it  makes  pain  less  painful  than  en- 
joyment. Love  has  a  clear  eye,  hut  it  can  see  only 
one  thino- — it  is  hlind  to  every  interest  hut  that  of 
its  Lord  ;  it  seeth  things  in  the  light  of  his  glory, 
and  weigheth  actions  in  the  scales  of  his  honour  ;  it 
counts  royalty  hut  drudgery  if  it  cannot  reign  for 
Christ,  hut  it  delights  in  servitude  as  much  as  in 
honour,  if  it  can  therehy  advance  the  Master's  king- 
dom ;  its  end  sweetens  all  its  means ;  its  ohject 
lightens  its  toil,  and  removes  its  weariness.  Love, 
with  refreshing  influence,  girds  up  the  loins  of  the 
pilgrim,  so  that  he  forgets  fatigue  ;  it  casts  a  shad- 
ow for  the  wayfaring  man,  so  that  he  feels  not  the 
hurning  heat ;  and  it  puts  the  hottle  to  the  lip  of 
thirst.  Have  not  we  found  it  so  ?  And,  under 
the  influence  of  love,  are  we  not  prej)ared  by  the 
Spirit's  sacred  aid  to  do  or  sufier  all  that  thought 
can  suggest,  as  being  likely  to  promote  his  hon- 
our ? 

He  who  desires  not  the  good  of  the  kingdom  is  no 
friend  to  the  king  ;  so  he  who  forgets  the  interests 
of  Zion  can  scarce  be  a  favourite  with  her  Prince. 
"We  wish  prosperity  in  estate  and  household  to  all 
those  in  whom  we  delight ;  and  if  we  take  pleasure 


260  THE    SAINT    AXD    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

in  Jesiis,  we  shall  pray  for  tlie  peace  of  Jerusalem, 
and  labour  for  her  increase. 

May  "  the  Father  of  lights "  give  unto  his 
Church  more  love  to  her  Head,  then  will  she  be 
zealous,  valiant,  and  persevering,  and  then  shall  her 
Lord  be  glorified. 

6.  It  is  a  notable  fact  that  fervent  love  to  Jesus 
will  enable  us  to  endure  anytldncj  lie  is  jpleased  to 
lay  upon  us. — Love  is  the  mother  of  resignation : 
we  gladly  receive  buifeting  and  blows  from  Jesus 
when  our  heart  is  fully  occupied  with  his  love. 
Even  as  a  dearly-cherished  friend  does  but  delight 
us  when  he  uses  freedoms  with  us,  or  when  he 
takes  much  liberty  in  our  house — so  Jesus,  when 
we  love  him  heartily,  will  never  offend  us  by  aught 
that  he  may  do.  Should  he  take  our  gold,  we 
think  his  hand  to  be  a  noble  coffer  for  our  wealth  ; 
should  he  remove  our  joys,  we  reckon  it  a  greater 
bliss  to  lose  than  gain,  when  his  will  runs  in  such 
a  channel.  Ay,  should  he  smite  us  very  sorely,  we 
shall  turn  to  his  hand  and  kiss  the  rod.  To  believe 
that  Christ  has  done  it,  is  to  extract  the  sting  of  an 
affliction.  We  remember  to  have  heard  a  preacher 
at  a  funeral  most  beautifully  setting  forth  this  truth 
in  parable.  He  spoke  thus  : — "  A  certain  noble- 
man had  a  spacious  garden,  which  he  left  to  the 
care  of  a  faithful  servant,  whose  delight  it  was  to 
train  the  creepers  along  the  trellis,  to  water  the 
seeds  in  the  time  of  drought,  to  support  the  stalks 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  261 

of  the  tender  plants,  and  to  do  every  work  wliicli 
could  render  the  garden  a  Paradise  of  flowers. 
One  morning  he  rose  with  joy,  expecting  to  tend 
his  beloved  flowers,  and  hoping  to  find  his  favour- 
ites increased  in  beauty.  To  his  surprise,  he  found 
one  of  his  choicest  beauties  rent  from  its  stem,  and, 
looking  around  him,  he  missed  from  every  bed  the 
pride  of  his  garden,  the  most  precious  of  his  bloom- 
ing flowers.  Full  of  grief  and  anger,  he  hurried 
to  his  fellow-servants,  and  demanded  who  had  thus 
robbed  him  of  his  treasures.  They  had  not  done 
it,  and  he  did  not  charge  them  with  it ;  but  he 
found  no  solace  for  his  grief  till  one  of  them  re- 
marked : — '  My  lord  was  walking  in  the  garden  this 
morning,  and  I  saw  him  pluck  the  flowers  and  carry 
them  away.'  Then  truly  he  found  he  had  no  cause 
for  his  trouble.  He  felt  it  was  well  that  his  master 
had  been  pleased  to  take  his  own,  and  he  went 
away,  smiling  at  his  loss,  because  his  lord  had  taken 
them.  So,"  said  the  preacher,  turning  to  the 
mourners,  "  you  have  lost  one  whom  you  regarded 
with  much  tender  affection.  The  bonds  of  endear- 
ment have  not  availed  for  her  retention  upon  earth. 
I  know  your  wounded  feelings  when,  instead  of 
the  lovely  form  which  was  the  embodiment  of  all 
that  is  excellent  and  amiable,  you  behold  nothing 
but  ashes  and  corruption.  But  remember  my 
beloved,  the  Lokd  hath  done  it.  He  hath  re- 
moved tlie   tender  mother,  the   aflectionate  wife, 


262  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOUE. 

the  inestimable  friend.  I  say  again,  remember 
your  own  Lord  has  done  it ;  therefore  do 
not  murmur,  or  yield  yourselves  to  an  excess  of 
grief."  There  was  much  force  as  well  as  beauty  in 
the  simple  allegory  :  it  were  w^ell  if  all  the  Lord's 
family  had  grace  to  practise  its  heavenly  lesson,  in 
all  times  of  bereavement  and  affliction. 

Our  favourite  master  of  quaint  conceits  "  has 
singularly  said  in  his  poem  entitled  "  Unkindness" — 

"  My  friend  may  spit  upon  my  curious  floor." 

True,  most  true,  our  Beloved  may  do  as  he  pleases 
in  our  house,  even  should  he  break  its  ornaments 
and  stai^n  its  glories.  Come  in,  thou  heavenly 
guest,  even  though  each  footstep  on  our  floor  should 
crush  a  thousand  of  our  earthly  joys.  Thou  art  thy- 
self more  tlian  sufficient  recompence  for  all  that 
thou  canst  take  away.  Come  in,  thou  brother  of 
our  souls,  even  though  thy  rod  come  with  thee. 
We  would  rather  have  thee,  and  trials  with  thee, 
than  lament  thine  absence  even  though  surrounded 
with  all  the  wealth  the  universe  can  bestow. 

The  Lord's  prisoner  in  the  dungeon  of  Aberdeen 
tluis  penned  his  belief  in  the  love  of  his  "sweet 
Lord  Jesus,"  and  his  acquiescence  in  his  Master's 
will : — "  Oh,  what  owe  I  to  the  file,  to  the  hammer, 
to  the  furnace,  of  my  Lord  Jesus  !  who  hath  now 
let  me  see  how  good  the  wheat  of  Christ  is,  which 

*  Herbert. 


LOVE  TO  JESUS.  263 

goetli  tlirongli  Lis  mill,  to  be  made  bread  for  his  own 
table.  Grace  tried  is  better  than  grace,  and  moi-e 
tlian  grace — it  is  glorj  in  its  infancy.  When  Christ 
blesses  his  own  crosses  with  a  tongue,  they  breathe 
out  Christ's  love,  wisdom,  kindness,  and  care  of  us. 
Why  should  I  start  at  the  j^lough  of  my  Lord,  that 
niaketh  deep  furrows  upon  my  soul  ?  I  know  that 
He  is  no  idle  husbandman ;  He  purposeth  a  crop 
Oh,  that  this  white,  withered  lea-ground  were  made 
fertile  to  bear  a  crop  for  him,  by  whom  it  is  so 
painfully  dressed,  and  that  this  fallow-ground  were 
broken  up  !  Why  was  I  (a  fool !)  grieved  that  He 
2~>ut  his  garland  and  his  rose  upon  my  head — the 
glory  and  honour  of  his  faithful  witnesses  ?  I  de- 
sire now  to  make  no  more  pleas  with  Christ.  "Ver- 
ily, He  hath  not  put  me  to  a  loss  by  what  I  suffer- 
ed ;  He  oweth  me  nothiug ;  for  in  my  bonds  how 
sweet  and  comfortable  have  the  thoughts  of  Him 
been  to  me,  wherein  1  find  a  sufficient  recompence 
of  reward !" 

7.  To  avoid  tiriug  the  reader  with  a  longer  list 
of  "  the  precious  fruits  put  forth  by  the  Sun  "  of 
love,  we  will  sum  up  all  in  the  last  remark — that 
the  gracious  soul  will  labour  after  an  entire  amii- 
1  illation  of  selfishness^  and  a  complete  ahsorjption 
into  Christ  of  its  ai?ns,  joys,  desires,  and  hojies. 
The  highest  conceivable  state  of  spirituality  is  pro- 
duced by  a  concentration  of  all  the  powers  and  pas- 
sions of  the  soul  upon  the  person  of  Christ.     We 


264  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

have  asked  a  great  thing  when  we  have  begged  to 
be  wholly  surrendered,  to  be  crucified.  It  is  the 
highest  stage  of  manhood  to  have  no  wish,  no 
thought,  no  desire,  but  Christ — to  feel  that  to  die 
were  bliss,  if  it  were  for  Christ — that  to  live  in 
penury,  and  woe,  and  scorn,  and  contempt,  and  mis- 
ery, were  sweet  for  Christ — to  feel  that  it  matters 
nothing  what  becomes  of  one's  self,  so  that  our 
Master  is  but  exalted — to  feel  that  though  like  a 
sear  leaf,  we  are  blown  in  the  blast,  we  are  quite 
careless  whither  we  are  going,  so  long  as  we  feel 
that  the  Master's  hand  is  guiding  us  according  to 
his  will ;  or,  rather,  to  feel  that  though  like  the  dia- 
mond, we  must  be  exercised  with  sharp  tools,  yet 
we  care  not  how  sharply  we  may  be  cut,  so  that  we 
may  be  made  fit  brilliants  to  adorn  Ms  crown.  If 
any  of  us  have  attained  to  this  sweet  feeling  of  self- 
annihilation,  we  shall  look  up  to  Christ  as  if  He 
were  the  sun,  and  we  shall  say  within  ourselves, 
"  O  Lord,  I  see  thy  beams  ;  I  feel  myself  to  be — 
not  a  beam  from  thee — but  darkness,  swallowed  up 
in  thy  light.  The  most  I  ask  is,  that  thou  wouldst 
live  in  me, — that  the  life  I  live  in  the  flesh  may  not 
be  my  life,  but  thy  life  in  me  ;  that  I  may  say  with 
emphasis,  as  Paul  did,  ''  For  me  to  live  is  Christ." 
A  man  who  has  attained  this  high  position  has 
indeed  "  entered  into  rest."  To  him  the  praise  or 
the  censure  of  men  is  alike  contemptible,  for  he  has 
learned  to  look  upon  the  one  as  unworthy  of  his 


LOVE  TO  jEsrs.  265 

pursuit,  and  the  otlier  as  beneath  his  regard.  lie 
is  no  longer  vuhierable,  since  he  has  in  himself  no 
separate  sensitiveness,  but  has  united  his  whole  be- 
ing with  the  cause  and  person  of  the  Redeemer. 
As  long  as  there  is  a  particle  of  selfishness  remain- 
ing in  us,  it  will  mar  our  sweet  enjoyment  of  Christ ; 
and  until  we  get  a  complete  riddance  of*  it,  our  joy 
will  never  be  unmixed  with  grief.  We  must  dig 
at  the  roots  of  our  selfishness  to  find  the  worm  which 
eats  our  happiness.  The  soul  of  the  believer  will 
always  pant  for  this  serene  condition  of  passive  sur- 
render, and  will  uot  content  itself  until  it  has  thor- 
oughly plunged  itself  into  the  sea  of  divine  love. 
Its  normal  condition  is  that  of  complete  dedication, 
and  it  esteems  every  deviation  from  such  a  state  as 
a  plague-mark  and  a  breaking  forth  of  disease. 
Here,  in  the  lowest  valley  of  self-renunciation,  the 
believer  walks  upon  a  very  pinnacle  of  exaltation ; 
bowing  himself,  he  knows  that  he  is  rising  immea- 
surably high  when  he  is  sinking  into  nothing,  and, 
falling  flat  upon  his  face,  he  feels  that  he  is  thus 
mounting  to  the  highest  elevation  of  mental 
grandeur. 

It  is  the  ambition  of  most  men  to  absorb  others 
into  their  own  life,  that  they  may  shine  the  more 
brightly  by  the  stolen  rays  of  other  lights ;  but  it 
is  the  Christian's  highest  aspiration  to  be  absorbed 
into  another,  and  lose  himself  in  the  glories  of  his 
sovereign  and  Saviour.     Proud  men  hope  that  the 

12 


266  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

names  of  others  shall  but  be  remembered  as  single 

words  in  their  own  long  titles  of  honour ;  but  loving 
children  of  God  long  for  nothing  more  than  to  see 
their  own  names  used  as  letters  in  the  bright  records 
of  the  doings  of  the  Wonderful,  the  Councillor. 

Heaven  is  a  state  of  entire  acquiescence  in  the 
will  of  God,  and  perfect  sympathy  with  his  pur- 
l^oses  ;  it  is,  therefore,  easy  to  discern  that  the  desires 
we  have  just  been  describing  are  true  earnests  of 
the  inheritance,  and  sure  signs  of  preparation  for  it. 

And  now,  how  is  it  with  the  reader  ?  Is  he  a 
lover  of  Jesus  in  verity  and  truth  ?  or  does  he  con- 
fess that  these  signs  are  not  seen  in  him  ?  If  he  be 
indeed  without  love  to  Jesus,  he  has  good  need  to 
humble  himself  and  turn  unto  the  Lord,  for  his  soul 
is  in  as  evil  a  condition  as  it  can  be  this  side  hell ; 
and,  alas !  will  soon  be,  unless  grace  prevent,  in  a 
plight  so  pitiable  that  eternity  will  scarce  be  long 
enough  for  its  regrets. 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  some  of  our  readers 
are  troubled  with  doubts  concerning  the  truth  of 
their  affection  for  Jesus,  although  they  are  indeed 
his  faithful  friends.  Permit  us  to  address  such  with 
a  word  of  consolation. 

You  have  some  of  the  marks  of  true  piety  about 
you, — at  least,  you  can  join  in  some  of  the  feelings 
to  which  we  have  been  giving  expression, — but 
still  you  fear  that  you  are  not  right  in  heart  towards 
Christ.     What  is  then  your  reason   for  such  a  sus- 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  267 

picion  ?  You  rei)lj  that  your  excess  of  attachment 
towards  your  friends  and  relatives  is  proof  that  you 
are  not  sincere,  for  if  you  loved  Jesus  truly,  you 
would  love  him  more  than  these.  You  word  your 
complaint  thus  : — "  I  fear  I  love  the  creature  more 
than  Christ,  and  if  so  my  love  is  hypocritical.  I 
frequently  feel  more  vehement  and  more  ardent 
motions  of  my  heart  to  my  beloved  relatives  than 
I  do  towards  heavenly  objects,  and  I  therefore  be- 
lieve that  I  am  still  carnal,  and  the  love  of  God 
doth  not  inhabit  my  heart." 

Far  be  it  from  us  to  plead  the  cause  of  sin,  or 
extenuate  the  undoubted  fault  which  you  thus  com- 
mit ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  would  be  even  farther 
from  our  design  to  blot  out  at  once  the  whole  of 
the  names  of  the  living  family  of  God.  For  if  our 
love  is  to  be  measured  by  its  temporary  violence, 
w^e  fear  there  is  not  one  among  the  saints  who  has 
not  at  some  time  or  other  had  an  excessive  love  to 
the  creature,  and  who  has  not,  therefore,  upon  such 
reasoning,  proved  himself  to  be  a  hypocrite.  Let 
it  be  remembered,  therefore,  that  the  strength  of 
affection  is  rather  to  be  measured  by  the  hold  it  has 
upon  the  heart,  than  by  the  heat  it  displays  at  casu- 
al times  and  seasons.  Flavel  very  wisely  observes, 
"  As  rooted  malice  argues  a  stronger  hatred  than  a 
sudden  though  more  violent  passion,  so  we  must 
measure  our  love,  not  by  a  violent  motion  of  it,  now 
and  then,  but  by  the  depth  of  the  root  and  the  con- 


268  THE    SA.INT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

stancy  of  its  actings.  Because  David  was  so  pas- 
sionately moved  for  Absalom,  Joab  concludes  that 
if  lie  had  lived,  and  all  the  people  died,  it  would 
have  pleased  him  well ;  but  that  was  argued  more 
like  a  soldier  than  a  logician." 

K  your  love  be  constant  in  its  abidings,  faithful 
in  its  actings,  and  honest  in  its  character,  you  need 
not  distrust  it  on  account  of  certain  more  burning 
heats,  which  temporarily  and  wickedly  inflame  the 
mind.  Avoid  these  as  sinful,  but  do  not  therefore 
doubt  the  truthfulness  of  your  attachment  to  your 
Master.  True  grace  may  be  in  the  soul  without 
being  apparent,  for,  as  Baxter  truly  observes,  "grace 
is  never  apparent  and  sensible  to  the  soul  but  while 
it  is  in  action."  .  Fire  may  be  in  the  flint,  and  yet 
be  unseen  except  when  occasion  shall  bring  it  out. 
As  Dr.  Sibbs  observes  in  his  SouVs  Conflict^  "  There 
is  sometimes  grief  for  sin  in  us,  when  we  think 
there  is  none  ;"  so  may  it  be  with  love  which  may 
be  there,  but  not  discoverable  till  some  circum- 
stance shall  lead  to  its  discovery.  The  eminent  Pu- 
ritan pertinently  remarks  : — "  You  may  go  seeking 
for  the  hare  or  partridge  many  hours,  and  never 
find  them  while  they  lie  close  and  stir  not ;  but 
when  once  the  hare  betakes  himself  to  his  legs,  and 
the  bird  to  her  wings,  then  you  see  them  presently. 
So  long  as  a  Christian  hath  his  graces  in  lively  ac- 
tion, so  long,  for  the  most  part,  he  is  assured  of  them. 
How  can  you  doubt  whether  you  love  God  in  the 


LOVE  TO  JESUS.  269 

act  of  loving  ?  Or  whether  yon  believe  in  the  very 
act  of  believing  ?  If,  therefore,  you  would  be  as- 
sured whether  this  sacred  fire  be  kindled  in  your 
hearts,  blow  it  up,  get  it  into  a  flame,  and  then  you 
will  know  ;  believe  till  you  feel  that  you  do  believe ; 
and  love  till  you  feel  that  you  love."  Seek  to  keep 
your  graces  in  action  by  living  near  to  the  author 
of  them.  Live  very  near  to  Jesus,  and  think  much 
of  his  love  to  you :  thus  will  your  love  to  him  be- 
come more  deep  and  fervent. 

We  pause  here,  and  pmy  the  most  gracious  Fa- 
ther of  all  good  to  accept  our  love,  as  he  has  already 
accepted  us,  in  the  Beloved  ;  and  we  humbly  crave 
the  benign  influence  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  that  we 
may  be  made  perfect  in  love,  and  may  glorify  him 
to  whom  we  now  present  ourselves  as  living  sacri- 
fices, holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which  is  our  rea- 
sonable service. 

*'  Jesu,  thy  boundless  lore  to  me 

No  thought  can  reach,  no  tongue  declare  ; 
0  knit  my  thankful  heart  to  thee, 

And  reign  without  a  rival  there  : 
Thine  wholly,  thine  alone  I  am  ; 
Be  thou  alone  my  constant  flame 

0  grant  that  nothing  in  my  soul 
May  dwell,  but  thy  pure  love  alone  : 

0  may  thy  love  possess  me  whole, 
My  joy,  my  treasure,  and  my  crown  ; 

Strange  flames  far  from  my  heart  remove  ; 

My  every  act,  word,  thought  be  love  !'' 


TO  THE  UNCONYERTED  EEADEE. 


Again  we  turn  to  tliee  ;  and  art  thou  still  where 
we  left  thee  ?  still  without  hojDe,  still  unforgiven  ? 
Surelj,  then,  thou  hast  been  condemning  thyself 
while  reading  these  signs  of  grace  in  others.  Such 
experience  is  too  high  for  thee,  thou  canst  no  more 
attain  unto  it  than  a  stone  to  sensibility ;  but,  re- 
member, it  is  not  too  high  for  the  Lord.  He  can 
renew  thee,  and  make  thee  know  the  highest  en- 
joyment of  the  saints.  He  alone  can  do  it^  therefore 
despair  of  thine  own  strength  ;  but  He  can  accom- 
plish it,  therefore  hope  in  omnipotent  grace.  Thou 
art  in  a  wrong  state,  and  thou  knowest  it:  how 
fearful  will  it  be  if  thou  shouldst  remain  the  same 
until  death  I  Yet  most  assuredly  thou  wilt,  unless 
Divine  love  shall  change  thee.  See,  then,  how  ab- 
solutely thou  art  in  the  hands  of  God.  Labour  to 
feel  this.  Seek  to  know  the  power  of  this  dread 
but  certain  fact — that  thou  liest  entirely  at  his 
pleasure  ;  and  there  is  nothing  more  likely  to  hum- 


LOVE   TO   JESUS.  271 

ble  and  subdue  thee  than  the  thoughts  which  it  will 
begot  wdthiu  thee. 

Know  and  tremble,  hear  and  be  afraid.  Bow 
thyself  before  the  Most  High,  and  confess  his  jus- 
tice should  He  destroy  thee,  and  admire  his  grace 
which  proclaims  pardon  to  thee.  Think  not  that 
the  works  of  believers  are  their  salvation  ;  but  seek 
first  the  root  of  their  graces,  which  lies  in  Christ, 
not  in  themselves.  This  thou  canst  get  nowhere 
but  at  the  footstool  of  m.ercy  from  the  hand  of  Jesus. 
Thou  art  shut  up  to  one  door  of  life,  and  that  door 
is  Christ  crucified.  Receive  him  as  God's  free  gift 
and  thine  undeserved  boon.  Kenounce  every  oth- 
er refuge,  and  embrace  the  Lord  Jesus  as  thine  only 
hope.  Venture  thy  soul  in  his  hands.  Sink  or 
swim,  let  Him  be  thine  only  support  and  he  will 
never  fail  thee. 

Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Chkist,  and  thou 

SHALT  be  saved. 


YIII. 

LOVE'S    LOGIC. 

"  The  upright  love  thee." — Sol.  Song,  i.  4. 


The  motives  of  lovo  are  in  a  great  degree  the 
measure  of  its  grov/tli.  The  advancecl  believer 
loves  his  Lord  for  higher  reasons  than  those  which 
move  the  heart  of  the  young  convert.  His  affec- 
tion is  not  more  sincere  or  earnest,  but  it  is,  or 
ought  to  be,  more  steadfast  and  unvarying,  because 
experience  has  enabled  the  understanding  to  ad- 
duce more  abundant  reasons  for  the  soul's  attach- 
ment. All  true  love  to  the  Eedeemer  is  acceptable 
to  him,  and  it  is  to  us  an  infallible  evidence  of  our 
safety  in  him.  "We  are  far  from  dej)reciating  the 
value  or  suspecting  the  sincerity  of  the  warm 
emotions  of  the  newly  enlightened,  although  we 
prefer  the  more  intelligent  and  less  interested 
attachment  of  the  well-instructed  Christian.  Let 
none  doubt  the  reality  of  their  piety  because  they 
are  unable  to  mount  to  all  the  heiglits,  or  dive  into 

2T2 


273 


all  the  depths,  of  that  love  which  passeth  know- 
ledo^e.  A  babe's  fondness  of  its  mother  is  as 
pleasing  to  her  as  the  strong  devotion  of  her  full- 
grown  son.  Tbe  graces  of  faith,  hope,  and  love 
are  to  be  estimated  more  by  their  honesty  than  by 
their  degree,  and  less  by  their  intellectnal  than 
by  their  emotional  characteristics.  Yet,  without 
doubt,  growth  in  grace  is  as  mnch  displayed  in 
the  Christian's  love  as  in  any  other  fruit  of  the 
Spirit;  and  it  is  our  belief  that  this  growth  may 
in  some  degree  be  traced  by  the  motives  which 
cause  it,  just  as  we  trace  the  motion  of  the  shower 
by  the  position  of  the  cloud  from  which  it  falls. 
It  may  be  profitable  to  dwell  upon  the  motives 
of  love  for  a  brief  season,  hoping  for  instruction  in 
so  doing.  We  do  not  pretend  to  enter  fully  into 
the  present  subject;  and,  indeed,  our  space  pre- 
vents us  as  much  as  our  incapacity.  Owen's 
remark  will  be  appropriate  here ; — "  Motives  imto 
the  love  of  Christ  are  so  great,  so  many,  so  dif- 
fused through  the  whole  dispensation  of  God  in 
him  unto  us,  as  that  they  can  by  no  hand  be  fully 
expressed,  let  it  be  allowed  ever  so  much  to  en- 
large in  the  declaration  of  them ;  much  less  can 
they  be  represented  in  this  short  discourse,  whereof 
but  a  very  small  part  is  allotted  unto  their  con- 
sideration." * 

*  Christologia, 
12* 


274  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

In  enumerating  some  of  tlie  stages  of  spiritual 
growth  as  indicated  by  liiglier  standards  of  motive, 
we  pray  tlie  Holy  spirit  to  guide  our  meditations, 
giving  us  profitable  wisdom  and  gracious  enlight- 
enment. Let  us  commence  in  entire  dependance 
upon  his  aid,  and  so  proceed  from  step  to  step  as 
he  shall  be  pleased  to  guide  us.  We  commence 
with  the  Alpha  of  Love,  the  first  ripe  fruit  of 
afi'ection. 

L  Love  of  Gkatitude.  ''  We  love  him  because 
he  first  loved  us."  Here  is  the  starting  point 
of  love's  race.  This  is  the  rippling  rill  which 
afterwards  swells  into  a  river,  the  torch  with  whicli 
the  pile  of  piety  is  kindled.  The  emancipated 
spirit  loves  the  Saviour  for  the  freedom  which  he 
has  conferred  upon  it ;  it  beholds  the  agony  with 
which  the  priceless  gift  was  purchased,  and  it 
adores  the  bleeding  sufierer  for  the  pains  which  he 
so  generously  endured.  Jesus  is  regarded  as  our 
benefactor,  and  the  boons  which  we  receive  at  his 
hands  constrain  us  to  give  him  our  hearts.  If 
enabled  to  receive  all  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel, 
we  bless  the  name  of  our  Eedeemer  for  his  free 
grace  manifested  in  our  election  to  eternal  life ; 
for  his  efiicacious  grace  exercised  in  calling  us  into 
his  kingdom  ;  for  pardon  and  justification  through 
his  blood  and  merits,  and  for  everlasting  security 
by  virtue  of  union  with  his  divine  person.     Surely 


275 

here  is  enongli  to  create  love  of  the  highest  order 
of  fervency ;  and  if  tlie  soul  should  ahide  for  ever 
in  contemplation  of  these  mighty  acts  of  grace, 
without  entering  upon  the  glorious  survey  of  the 
character  and  perfections  of  Jesus,  it  need  never 
be  in  want  of  reasons  for  affection.  Here  are 
coals  enough  to  maintain  the  heavenly  fire,  if  the 
Holy  Spirit  be  but  present  to  fan  the  flame.  This 
order  of  affection  is  capable  of  producing  the  most 
eminent  virtues,  and  stimulating  the  most  ardent 
zeal.  It  is  enough  for  every  practical  purpose 
of  the  heavenly  life.  But  nevertheless,  there  is  a 
"  yet  beyond."  There  are  other  motives  which 
are  of  a  higlier  class  in  themselves,  although  very 
seldom  more  potent  in  then-  influence.  This,  how- 
ever, is  the  beginning.  "  I  love  the  Lord  because 
he  has  heard  my  voice  and  my  supplication."  It 
is  his  kindness  toward  us,  rather  than  the  gracious- 
ness  of  his  nature,  which  primarily  attracts  us. 

The  deeds  of  the  Saviour  do  not  so  much  arouse 
our  early  admii-ation  from  their  intrinsic  greatness 
and  graciousness  as  from  the  fact  that  we  have 
a  share  in  them.  This  thought  at  first  attracts  all 
our  regard,  and  engrosses  all  our  meditations. 
Neither  the  person  nor  the  offices  of  Christ  have 
as  yet  been  fully  presented  to  the  soul, — it  knows 
him  only  in  his  gifts,  and  loves  him  only  for  what 
he  has  bestowed.  Call  this  love  selfish  if  you  will, 
but  do  not  condemn  it.     The  Saviour  frowned  not 


276  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

on  the  woman  who  loved  much,  because  much  had 
been  forgiven,  nor  did  he  despise  the  offering  of 
that  heart  which  was  first  moved  with  affection 
at  the  casting  ont  of  its  seven  devils.  Perhaps  it 
is  from  a  selfish  reason  that  the  infant  casts  the 
tendrils  of  its  heart  around  its  mother,  but  who 
would  therefore  despise  its  fondness  ?  Base  must 
be  the  man  who  should  wish  to  eradicate  such  a 
heavenly  germ  because  of  the  poverty  of  the  soil 
in  which  it  grew.  Our  love  to  God  may  even 
be  heightened  by  due  and  wise  self-love.  "  There 
is  a  sinful  self-love,  when  either  we  love  that  for  a 
self  which  is  not  ourself, — when  we  love  our  flesh 
and  -fleshly  interest, — or  when  we  love  ourselves 
inordinately,  more  than  God,  and  God  only  for 
ourselves ;  and  there  is  a  lawful  self-love,  when  we 
love  ourselves  in  the  Lord  and  for  the  Lord^^ 
This  lawful  self-love  leads  us  to  love  Christ,  and 
to  desire  more  and  more  of  his  grace,  because  we 
feel  that  so  we  shall  be  the  more  hapj^y  in  our 
souls,  and  useful  in  our  lives.  This  is  in  some 
degi-ee  earthy,  but  in  no  degree  sinful,  or  anything 
but  holy. 

It  is  not  needful  that  the  foundation-stones  should 
be  of  polished  marble,  they  will  well  enough  sub- 
serve their  purpose  if  they  act  as  the  underlying 
ground-work  of  more  excellent  materials.     If  it  be 

*  Allen's  Riches  of  tJu  Covenant, 


277 


a  crime  to  be  ungrateful,  tlien  thankfulness  is  a 
virtue,  and  its  issue  cannot  be  contemptible. 
Young  beginners  frequently  doubt  tlieir  piety, 
because  tliey  feel  but  little  disinterested  affection 
for  the  Lord  Jesus  ^  let  them  remember  that  that 
high  and  excellent  gift  is  not  one  of  the  tender 
grapes,  but  is  only  to  be  gathered  beneath  the 
ripening  skies  of  Christian  experience.  "  Do  you 
love  Christ?"  is  the  important  question,  and  if  the 
answer  be  a  firm  avowal  of  attachment  to  him,  it 
is  decisive  as  to  your  spiritual  condition,  even 
though  the  further  question,  "  Why  do  you  love 
him  ?"  should  only  receive  for  answer,  "  I  love 
him  because  he  first  loved  me."  Indeed,  in  the 
loftiest  stage  of  heavenly  life,  there  must  ever  be  a 
great  and  grateful  mixture  of  motives  in  our  love 
to  our  divine  Master.  We  do  not  cease  to  love 
him  for  his  mercies  when  we  begin  to  adore  him 
for  his  personal  excellences ;  on  the  contrary,  our 
sense  of  the  glory  of  the  person  who  is  our  Ee- 
deemer  increases  our  gratitude  to  him  for  his  con- 
descending regard  of  such  insignificant  creatures 
as  ourselves.  Thus  the  ripening  shock  of  corn  can 
hold  fellowship  with  the  tender  blade,  since  both 
^re  debtors  to  the  sunshine.  Even  the  saints 
before  the  throne  are  in  no  small  defirree  moved  to 
rapturous  love  of  their  exalted  King,  by  the  very 
motive  which  some  have  been  ready  to  under- 
value as  selfish  and  unspiritnal.    They  sing,  "  ThoTi 


278  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

art  worthy  for  tlioii  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed 
us  nnto  God  by  tliy  blood ;"  and  in  tlieir  song- 
who  shall  ever  doubt  that  grace,  free  grace,  as 
exhibited  in  their  own  salvation,  holds  the  highest 
place. 

Oh  new-born  soul,  trembling  with  anxiety,  if 
thou  hast  not  yet  beheld  the  fair  face  of  thy  be- 
loved, if  thou  canst  not  as  yet  delight  in  the  majesty 
of  his  offices,  and  the  wonders  of  his  person,  let 
thy  soul  be  fully  alive  to  the  richness  of  his  grace, 
and  the  preciousness  of  his  blood.  These  thou  hast 
in  thy  possession, — the  pledges  of  thine  interest  in 
him  ;  love  him  then  for  these,  and  in  due  time  he 
will  discover  unto  thee  fresh  wonders  and  glories, 
so  that  thou  shalt  be  able  to  exclaim,  "  The  half 
has  not  been  told  me."  Let  Calvary  and  Gethse- 
mane  endear  thy  Saviour  to  thee,  though  as  3^etthou 
hast  not  seen  the  brightness  of  Tabor,  o^'  heard  the 
eloquence  of  Olivet.  Take  the  lower  room  if  tliou 
canst  not  reach  another,  for  the  lowest  room  is  in 
the  house^  and  its  tables  shall  not  be  naked.  But 
study  to  look  into  thy  Redeemer's  heart,  that  thou 
mayst  become  more  closely  knit  unto  him.  Re- 
member there  is  a  singular  love  in  the  bowels  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  to  his  people,  so  superlatively  excel- 
lent, that  nothing  can  compare  with  it.  E"o  hus- 
band, no  wife  nor  tender-hearted  mother  can  com- 
pete with  him  in  affectix)n,  for  his  love  passeth  the 
love  of  women,     i^othing  will  contribute  more  to 


279 


make  thee  see  Jesiis  Christ  as  admirable  and  lovely 
than  a  right  apprehension  of  his  love  to  thee ;  tliis 
is  the  constraining,  ravishing,  engaging  and  over- 
whelming consideration  which  will  infallibly  steep 
thee  in  a  sea  of  love  to  him.  "■  Although,"  says 
Durham,*  "  there  be  much  in  many  mouths  of 
Christ's  love,  yet  there  are  few  that  really  know 
and  believe  the  love  that  he  hath  to  his  people.  (1 
John  iii.  1.)  As  this  is  the  cause  that  so  few  love 
him,  and  why  so  many  set  up  other  beloveds  be- 
side him,  so  the  solid  faith  of  this  and  the  expecta- 
tion of  good  from  him,  hath  a  great  engaging  vir- 
tue to  draw  sinners  to  him."  Study  then  Ms  love, 
and  so  inflame  thine  own  ;  for  be  thou  ever  mind- 
ful that  the  love  of  Jesus  was  costly  on  his  pai-t, 
and  undeserved  on  thine. 

Here  it  will  be  right  to  mention  the  love  which 
springs  from  a  sense  of  possession  of  Christ.  "  O, 
Lord,  thoic  art  my  God^  early  will  I  seek  thee,"  is 
the  vow  which  results  from  a  knowledge  of  our  pos- 
sessing God  as  our  own.  As  God  we  ought  to  love 
him,  but  as  our  God  we  do  love  him.  It  is  Christ 
as  our  Christ,  his  righteousness  as  imputed  to  us^ 
and  his  atonement  as  our  ransom,  which  at  first 
cause  our  souls  to  feel  the  heat  of  love.  "  I  cannot 
love  another  man's  Christ,"  saith  the  anxious  soul, 
''  he  must  be  mine  or  my  soul  can  never  be  knit 

*  Exposition  of  Sol.  Song. 


280  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUiv.. 

unto  liim  ;"  but  when  an  interest  in  Jesus  is  per- 
ceived by  the  understanding,  th^n  the  heart  cries 
out,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God,  thou  art  mine  and  I 
will  be  thine."  It  is  worth  while  to  be  a  man,  de- 
spite all  the  sorrows  of  mortality,  if  we  may  have 
grace  to  talk  in  the  fashion  of  a  full  assured  believer 
when  he  rejoices  in  the  plenitude  of  his  possessions 
and  gratefully  returns  his  love  as  his  only  possible 
acknowledgment.  Listen  to  him  while  he  talks 
in  the  following  strain :  "  My  Beloved  is  mine,  and 
I  am  his.  The  grant  is  clear  and  my  claim  is  firm. 
"Who  shall  despoil  me  of  it  when  God  hath  put  me 
in  possession,  and  doth  own  me  as  the  lawful  heri- 
tor ?  My  Lord  hath  himself  assured  me  that  he  is 
mine,  and  hath  bid  me  call  his  father,  ony  father. 
I  know  of  a  surety  that  the  whole  Trinity  are  mine. 
*  I  will  be  thy  God  '  is  my  sweet  assurance.  O,  my 
soul  arise  and  take  possession  ;  inherit  thy  blessed- 
ness, and  cast  up  thy  riches ;  enter  into  thy  rest, 
and  tell  how  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with 
thee.  I  will  praise  thee,  O  my  God ;  my  King,  I 
subject  my  soul  unto  thee.  O,  my  Glory,  in  thee 
will  I  boast  all  the  day  ;  O,  my  Rock,  on  thee  will 
I  build  all  my  confidence.  O  staff  of  my  life  and 
strength  of  my  heart,  the  life  of  my  joy  and  joy  of 
my  life,  I  will  sit  and  sing  under  thy  shadow,  yea, 
I  will  sing  a  song  of  loves  touching  my  Well-be- 
loved.'- This  is  a  precious  experience,  happy  is 
the  man  who  enjoys  it.     It  is  the  marrow  of  life  to 


281 


read  our  title  clear ;  and  it  is  so  for  tliis  reason, 
among  others,  that  it  creates  and  fosters  a  devout 
ardency  of  affection  in  the  soul  which  is  the  posses- 
sor of  it.     Let  all  believers  seek  after  it. 

II.  Akin  to  the  love  inspired  by  thankfulness, 
but  rising  a  step  higher  in  gracious  attainments, 
is  Love  caused  by  admiration  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  work  of  the  Redeemer  was  performed. 
Having  loved  him  for  the  deed  of  salvation,  the 
believer  surveys  the  labours  of  his  Deliverer,  and 
finds  them  in  every  part  so  excellent  and  mar- 
vellous, that  he  loves  Jiim  with  new  force  as  he 
meditates  upon  them.  He  is  altogether  lovely 
to  the  soul  in  every  office  which  he  was  graciously 
pleased  to  assume.  We  behold  him  as  oior  King^ 
and  when  we  see  the  power,  the  justice,  and  the 
grace  which  attend  his  throne,  when  we  witness 
the  conquest  of  his  enemies,  and  remark  his  strong 
defence  of  his  friends,  we  cannot  but  adore  him, 
and  exclaim,  "All  hail,  we  crown  thee  Lord  of 
all."  K  his  priestly  office  engages  our  meditation, 
it  is  precious  to  view  him  as  the  faithful  High 
Priest ;  remembering  the  efficacy  of  his  mediation, 
and  the  prevalence  of  his  intercession :  or,  if  the 
mantle  of  the  prophet  is  viewed  as  worn  by  Him 
upon  whose  brow  the  crown  of  empire  and  the 
diadem  of  the  priesthood  are  both  for  ever  placed, 
how  becoming  does  it  seem  upon  His  shoulders 


282  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

wlio  is  wisdom's  self !  In  liis  tlireefold  character, 
in  which  all  the  offices  are  blended  but  none  con- 
fused— all  fulfilled,  but  none  neglected — all  carried 
to  their  highest  length,  but  none  misused, — how 
glorious  does  our  Redeemer  appear  !  Sonnets  will 
never  cease  for  want  of  themes,  unless  it  be  that 
the  penury  of  language  should  compel  our  wonder 
to  abide  at  home,  since  it  cannot  find  garments 
in  which  to  clothe  its  thoughts.  When  the  soul  is 
led  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  take  a  clear  view  of  Jesus 
in  his  various  offices,  how  speedily  the  heart  is  on 
fire  with  love !  To  see  him  stooping  from  his 
throne  to  become  man,  UQxt  yielding  to  suffering 
to  become  man's  sympathising  friend,  and  then 
bowing  to  death  itself  to  become  his  Ransom, 
is  enough  to  stir  every  passion  of  the  soul.  To 
discern  him  by  faith  as  the  propitiation  for  sin, 
sprinkling  his  own  blood  within  the  vail,  and  nail- 
ing our  sins  to  his  cross,  is  a  sight  which  never 
fails  to  excito  the  reverent,  yet  rapturous  admira- 
tion of  the  beholder.  "Who  can  behold  the  triumphs 
of  the  Prince  of  Peace  and  not  applaud  him !  "Who 
can  know  his  illustrious  merits,  and  not  extol  him  ? 
Doubtless  this  love  of  admiration  is  an  after- 
thought, and  can  never  be  the  primary  acting  of 
new-born  love.  The  sailors  rescued  by  the  heroic 
daring  of  Grace  Darling  would  first  of  all  admire 
her  as  their  deliverer,  and  afterwards,  when  they 
remembered    her   natural   weakness,   her   philan- 


283 


thropic  self-denial,  her  compassionate  tenderness, 
and  her  heroic  courage,  they  would  give  her  then- 
hearts  for  the  manner  in  which  the  deed  was  done 
and  the  spirit  which  dictated  it.  In  fact,  apart 
from  their  own  safety,  they  could  scarcely  avoid 
paying  homage  to  the  virtue  which  shone  so 
gloriously  in  her  noble  act.  Never,  throughout 
life,  could  they  forget  their  personal  obligation 
to  that  bravest  of  women ;  but  at  the  same  time 
they  would  declare,  that  had  it  not  been  their  lot 
to  have  been  rescued  from  the  depths,  they  could 
not  have  refused  their  heart's  admiration  of  a  deed 
so  heroic,  though  they  themselves  had  not  been 
profited  by  it.  We,  who  are  saved  by  grace,  have 
room  enough  in  our  Redeemer's  character  for  eter- 
nal love  and  wonder.  His  characters  are  so  varied, 
and  all  of  them  so  precious,  that  we  may  still  gaze 
and  adore.  The  Shepherd  folding  the  lambs  in  his 
bosom,  the  Breaker  dashing  into  pieces  the  oppo- 
sing gates  of  brass,  the  Captain  routing  all  his 
foes,  the  Brother  born  for  adversity,  and  a  thousand 
other  delightful  pictures  of  Jesus,  are  all  calculated 
to  stir  the  affections  of  the  thoughtful  Christian. 
It  should  be  our  endeavour  to  know  more  of  Christ, 
that  we  may  find  more  reasons  for  loving  him.  A 
contemplation  of  the  history,  character,  attributes, 
and  ofiices  of  Jesus  will  often  be  the  readiest  way 
to  renew  our  drooping  love.  The  more  clear  is 
our  view  of  Christ,  the   more   complete  will  be 


284  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

our  idea  of  him ;  and  the  more  true  our  experience 
of  him,  SO  much  the  more  constant  and  unwavering 
will  be  our  heart's  hold  of  him.  Hence  the  impor- 
tance of  communion  with  him,  which  is  to  a  great 
extent  the  only  means  of  knowing  him. 

We  would  here  caution  the  reader  to  make  an 
important  distinction  when  dwelling  upon  the 
phase  of  spiritual  love  now  under  consideration. 
Let  him  carefully  remember  that  admiration  of  the 
moral  character  of  Jesus  of  I^azareth  may  exist  in 
an  unregenerate  heart,  and  that,  apart  from  the 
love  of  gratitude,  it  is  no  acceptable  fruit  of  the 
Spirit :  so  that  this  (in  some  sense)  higher  stone 
of  the  building,  leans  entirely  upon  the  lower  one, 
and  without  it  is  of  no  avail.  Some  pretend  to 
admire  the  Prophet  of  ISTazareth,  but  deny  him 
to  be  the  Son  of  God  ;  others  wonder  at  him  in  his 
divine  and  human  natures,  but  cannot  lay  hold  on 
him  as  their  Redeemer ;  and  many  honour  his 
perfect  example,  but  despise  his  glorious  sacrifice. 
Now,  it  is  not  love  to  a  part  of  Christ  which  is  the 
real  work  of  the  Spirit,  but  it  is  true  devotion  to 
the  Christ  of  God  in  all  that  he  is  and  does.  Many 
manufacture  a  Christ  of  their  own,  and  profess 
to  love  him ;  but  it  is  not  respect  to  our  own 
anointed,  but  to  the  Lord's  anointed,  which  can 
prove  us  to  be  God's  elect.  Seek  then  to  know  the 
Lord,  that  you  may  with  your  whole  soul  be  united 
to  him  in   affection.     Come,  now,  lay  aside   this 


285 


volume  for  an  Lour  and  regale  yourself  witli  a 
little  of  His  company,  then  will  you  join  with 
the  devout  Hawker  in  his  oft-repeated  confession : 
"  In  following  thee,  thou  blessed  Jesus,  every 
renewed  discovery  of  thee  is  glorious,  and  every 
new  attainment  most  excellent.  In  thy  person, 
offices,  character,  and  relations,  thou  art  most  pre- 
cious to  my  soul.  Thou  art  a  glorious  Eedeemer,  a 
glorious  Head  of  thy  Church  and  people ;  a  glorious 
Husband,  Brother,  Friend,  Prophet,  Priest,  and 
King  in  thy  Zion.  And  when  I  behold  thee  in  all 
these  relative  excellencies,  and  can  and  do  know 
thee,  and  enjoy  thee,  and  call  thee  Qnine  under 
every  one  of  them,  surely  I  may  well  take  up  the 
language  of  this  sweet  Scripture,  and  say,  '  Thou 
art  more  glorious  and  excellent  than  all  the  moun- 
tains of  Prey  !'  "  ^ 

If  you  are  unable  to  obtain  a  view  of  the  Man 
of  grief  and  love,  ask  him  to  reveal  himself  by 
his  Spirit,  and  wdien  your  prayer  is  heard,  your 
soul  will  speedily  be  ravished  with  delight. 

*'  In  manifested  love  explain, 
Thy  wonderful  design ; 
What  meant  the  suffering  Son  of  Man, 
The  streaming  blood  divine  ? 

"  Come  thou,  and  to  my  soul  reveal 
The  heights  and  depths  of  grace  , 
The  wounds  which  all  my  sorrows  heal, 
That  dear  disfigured  face  : 

*  See  his  admirable  Portions. 


286  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

"  Before  my  eyes  of  faith  confest, 
Stand  forth'  a  slaughter'd  Lamb  ; 
And  wrajD  me  in  thy  crimson  vest, 
And  tell  me  all  thy  name." 

III.  Sympathy  with  Jesus  in  his  great  design 
is  a  cause  as  well  as  an  effect  of  love  to  Him. 
Sanctified  men  liave  an  union  of  heart  with  Jesus, 
since  their  aims  are  common.  Both  are  seeking  to 
honour  God,  to  uproot  sin,  to  save  souls,  and  extend 
the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth.  Though  the  saints 
are  but  the  private  soldiers,  while  Jesus  is  their 
glorious  Leader,  yet  they  are  in  the  same  armj, 
and  hence  they  have  the  same  desire  for  victory. 
From  this  springs  an  increase  of  love ;  for  we  cannot 
labor  with  and  for  those  whom  we  esteem,  without 
feeling  ourselves  more  and  more  united  to  them. 
We  love  Jesus  when  we  are  advanced  in  the  divine 
life,  from  a  participation  with  him  in  the  great 
work  of  his  incarnation.  'We  long  to  see  our  fel- 
low-men turned  from  darkness  to  light,  and  we 
love  Him  as  the  Sun  of  righteousness,  who  can 
alone  illuminate  them.  "We  hate  sin,  and  therefore 
we  rejoice  in  Him  as  manifested  to  take  away  sin. 
We  pant  for  holier  and  happier  times,  and  there- 
fore we  adore  Him  as  the  coming  Ruler  of  all  lands, 
who  will  bring  a  millennium  with  him  in  the  day 
of  his  appearing.  The  more  sincere  our  desires, 
and  the  more  earnest  our  efforts,  to  promote  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  welfare  of  man,  the  more 
will  our  love  to  Jesus  increase.     Idle  Christians 


loye's  logic.  287 

always  have  lukewarm  hearts,  which  are  at  once 
the  causes  and  effects  of  their  sloth.  AVhen  the 
heart  is  fully  engaged  in  God's  great  work,  it  will 
glow  with  love  of  the  great  Sou,  who  was  himself 
a  servant  in  the  same  great  cause.  Does  my  phy- 
lanthropy  lead  me  to  yearn  over  dying  men  ?  Is 
my  pity  excited  by  their  miseries  ?  Do  I  pray  for 
their  salvation,  and  labour  to  be  the  means  of  it? 
then  most  assuredly  I  shall,  for  this  very  reason, 
reverence  and  love  the  Friend  of  sinners,  the 
Saviour  of  tlie  lost.  Am  I  so  engrossed  with  the 
idea  of  God's  majesty,  that  my  whole  being  pants 
to  manifest  his  glory  and  extol  his  name  ?  Then  I 
shall' most  cei'tainly  cleave  unto  him  who  glorified 
his  Father,  and  in  whose  person  all  the  attributes 
of  Deity  are  magnified.  If  a  sense  of  unity  in 
aim  be  capable  of  binding  hosts  of  men  into  one 
compact  body,  beating  with  one  heart,  and  moving 
with  the  same  step — then  it  is  easy  to  believe  that 
the  heavenly  object  in  which  the  saints  and  their 
Saviour  are  both  united,  is  strong  enough  to  form 
a  lasting  bond  of  love  between  them. 

Trusting  that  we  maybe  enabled  in  our  daily 
conduct  to  prove  this  truth,  we  pass  on  to  another 
part  of  the  subject. 

lY.  Experience.  Experience  of  the  love,  ten- 
derness, and  faithfulness  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ' 
will  weld  our  hearts  to  him.     The  very  thought  of 


288  THE   SADTT   AUD   HIS   SAVIOrR 

the  love  of  Jesus  towards  us  is  enough  to  inflame 
our  holy  passions,  but  experience  of  it  heats  the 
furnace  seven  times  hotter.  He  has  been  with  us 
in  our  trials,  cheering  and  consoling  us,  sympathis- 
ing with  every  groan,  and  regarding  every  tear 
with  ajffectionate  compassion.  Do  we  not  love  him 
for  this?  He  has  befriended  us  in  every  time  of 
need,  so  bounteously  supplying  all  our  wants  out 
of  the  riches  of  his  fulness,  that  he  has  not  suffered 
us  to  lack  any  good  thing.  Shall  we  be  unmindful 
of  such  unwearying  care !  He  has  helped  us  in 
every  difficulty,  furnishing  us  with  strength  equal 
to  our  day ;  he  has  levelled  the  mountains  before 
us,  and  filled  up  the  valleys ;  he  has  made  rough 
places  plain,  and  crooked  things  straight.  Do  we 
not  love  him  for  this  also  ?  In  all  our  doubts  he 
has  directed  us  in  the  path  of  wisdom,  and  led  us 
in  the  w^ay  of  knowledge.  He  has  not  suffered  us 
to  wander ;  he  has  led  us  by  a  right  way  through 
the  pathless  wilderness.  Shall  we  not  praise  him 
for  this?  He  has  repelled  our  enemies,  covered 
our  heads  in  the  day  of  battle,  broken  the  teeth  of 
the  oppressor,  and  made  us  more  than  conquerors. 
Can  we  forget  such  mighty  grace  ?  When  our  sins 
have  broken  our  peace,  stained  our  garments,  and 
pierced  us  with  many  sorrows,  he  has  restored  our 
souls,  and  led  us  in  the  path  of  righteousness  for 
his  name's  sake.  Are  we  not  constrained  to  call 
upon  all  that  is  within  us  to  bless  his  holy  name? 


289 


He  has  been  as  good  as  his  word ;  not  one  promise 
has  been  broken,  but  all  have  come  to  pass.  In 
no  single  instance  has  he  failed  ns  ;  he  has  never 
been  unkind,  nnmindful,  or  unwise.  The  harshest 
strokes  of  his  providence  have  been  as  full  of  love 
as  the  softest  embraces  of  his  condescending  fellow- 
ship. We  cannot,  we  dare  not  find  fault  with  him. 
lie  hath  done  all  things  well.  There  is  no  flaw  in 
his  behaviour,  no  suspicion  upon  his  afi*ection.  His 
love  is  indeed  that  perfect  love  which  casteth  out 
fear ;  the  review  of  it  is  sweet  to  contemplation ; 
the  very  remembrance  of  it  is  like  ointment  poured 
forth,  and  the  present  enjoyment  of  it,  the  expe- 
rience of  it  at  the  present  moment,  is  beyond  all 
things  delightful.  Whatever  may  be  our  present 
position,  it  has  in  it  ^peculiarities  unknown  to  any 
other  state,  and  hence  it  affords  special  grounds  of 
love.  Are  we  on  the  mountains?  we  bless  him 
that  he  maketh  our  feet  like  hind's  feet,  and  mak- 
eth  ns  to  stand  upon  onr  high  places.  Are  we  in 
the  valley  ?  then  we  praise  him  that  his  rod  and 
staff  do  comfort  us.  Are  we  in  sickness  ?  we  love 
him  for  his  gracious  visitations.  If  we  be  in 
health,  we  bless  him  for  his  merciful  preservations. 
At  home  or  abroad,  on  the  land  or  the  sea,  in 
health  or  sickness,  in  poverty  or  wealth,  Jesus,  the 
never-fiiiling  friend,  affords  us  tokens  of  his  grace, 
and  binds  our  hearts  to  him  in  the  bonds  of  con- 
straining gratitude. 

13 


290  THE   SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOTJK. 

It  must,   however,   be    confessed    that   all   the 
saints  do  not  profit  from  their  experience  in  an 
equal  measure,  and  none  of  them  so  much  as  they 
might.     All  the  experience  of  a  Christian  is  not 
Christian  experience.     Much  of  our  time  is  occu- 
pied with  exercises   as   unprofitable   as  they  are 
unpleasant.     The  progress  of  a  traveller  must  not 
be  measured  by  the  amount  of  his  toil,  unless  we 
can  obtain  a  satisfactory  proof  that  all  his  toil  was 
expended  in  the  right  path ;  for  let  him  journey 
ever  so  swiftly,  if  his  path  be  full  of  wanderings, 
he  will  gain  but  little  by  his  labours.     "When  we 
follow  on  to  know  the  Lord  in  his  own  appointed 
way,  the  promise  assures  us  that  we  shall  attain  to 
knowledge  ;  but  if  we  run  in  the  way  of  our  own 
devising,  we  need  not  wonder  if  we  find  ourselves 
surrounded  with  darkness  instead  of  light.     How- 
ever, the  Lord,  who  graciously  overrules  evil  for 
good,  has  been  pleased  to  permit  it  to  remain  as  a 
rule  in  the  lives  of  his  children,  that  they  learn  by 
experience — and  sure  we  are,  that  were  we  not 
dull  scholars,  we  should  in  the  experience  of  a  sin- 
gle day  discover  a  thousand  reasons  for  loving  the 
Hedeemer.     The  most  barren  day  in  all  our  years 
blossoms  with  remembrances  of  his  loving-kind- 
ness, while  the  more  memorable  seasons  yield  a 
hundredfold  the  fruits  of  his  goodness.     Though 
some  days  may  add  but  little  to  the  heap,  yet  by 
little  and  little  it  increases  to  a  mountain.     Little 


291 


experiences,  if  well  liusbanded,  will  soon  make  ns 
rich  in  love.  Tliongli  the  banks  of  the  river  do 
shelve  but  gently,  yet  he  that  is  up  to  the  ankles 
shall  find  the  water  covering  his  knees,  if  he  do 
but  continue  his  wading.  Blessed  is  the  saint 
whose  love  to  his  Lord  hath  become  confirmed 
with  his  years,  so  that  his  heart  is  fixed,  and  fired, 
and  flaming.  He  with  his  grey  hairs  and  venera- 
ble countenance  commands  the  attention  of  all  men 
when  he  sj)eaks  well  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  whom  he 
hath  tried  and  proved  through  more  than  half  a 
century  of  tribulation  mingled  with  rejoicing.  As 
a  youth  his  love  was  true,  but  w^e  thought  it  little 
more  than  a  momentary  flash,  which  would  die  as 
hastily  as  it  was  born  :  but  now  no  man  can  doubt 
its  sincerity,  for  it  is  a  steady  flame,  like  the  burn- 
ing of  a  well-trimmed  lamp.  Experience,  when 
blessed  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  the  saint's  daily 
income,  by  which  he  getteth  rich  in  afl*ection  ;  and 
he  who  hath  for  a  long  time  amassed  his  portion  of 
treasure  may  well  be  conceived  to  be  more  rich 
therein  than  the  young  beginner,  vrho  has  as  yet 
received  but  little.  Would  to  God  that  we  were 
all  more  careful  to  obtain  and  retain  the  precions 
gems  which  lie  at  our  feet  in  our  daily  experience  ! 
The  experienced  believer  is  in  advance  of  his 
yonnger  brethren  if  his  experience  has  developed 
itself  in  a  deeper,  steadiei*,  and  more  abiding  love 
of  Christ.     He  is  to  the  babe  in  grace  what  the 


292  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

oak  is  to  the  sapling — more  firmly  rooted,  more 
strong  in  heart,  and  broader  in  his  spread ;  his 
love,  too,  is  to  the  affection  of  the  beginner  what 
the  deep-rolling  river  is  to  the  sparkling  rill. 
Especially  is  this  the  case  if  he  has  done  business 
on  great  waters,  and  has  been  buried  beneath  the 
billows  of  affliction.  He  will,  if  he  have  passed 
through  such  exercises,  be  a  mighty  witness  of  the 
worthiness  of  his  Lord — for  tribulation  unfolds  the 
delights  of  covenant  engagements,  and  drives  the 
soul  to  feed  upon  them.  It  cuts  away  every  other 
prop,  and  compels  the  soul  to  test  the  solidity 
of  the  pillar  of  divine  faithfulness ;  it  throws  a 
cloud  over  the  face  of  all  created  good,  and  leads 
the  spirit  to  behold  the  sacred  beauties  of  the  Son 
of  man  ;  and  thus  it  enables  the  believer  to  know 
in  the  most  certain  manner  the  all-sufficiency  of 
the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  Tried  saints  are  con- 
strained to  love  their  Hedeemer ;  not  only  on 
account  of  deliverance  out  of  trouble,  but  also 
because  of  that  sweet  comfort  which  he  affords 
them  whilst  they  are  enduring  the  cross.  They 
have  found  adversity  to  be  a  wine-press,  in  which 
the  juice  of  the  grapes  of  Eschol  could  be  trodden 
out;  an  olive-press,  to  extract  the  precious  oil  from 
the  gracious  promises.  Christ  is  the  honeycomb, 
but  experience  must  suck  forth  the  luscious  drops ; 
he  is  frankincense,  but  fiery  trials  must  burn  out 
the  perfume ;  he  is  a  box  of  spikenard,  but  the 


293 


hard  hand  of  trouble  must  break  the  box  and  pour 
forth  the  ointment.  "When  this  is  done,  ^Yhen 
Jesus  is  experimentally  known,  he  is  loved  in  a 
higher  manner  than  the  newborn  Christian  can 
asjDire  to  talk  of.  Aged  and  mellow  saints  have  so 
sweet  a  savour  of  Christ  in  them  that  their  conver- 
sation is  like  streams  from  Lebanon,  sweetly 
refreshing  to  him  who  delights  to  hear  of  the  glo- 
ries of  redeeming  love.  They  have  tried  the 
anchor  in  the  hour  of  storm,  they  have  tested  the 
armom-  hi  the  day  of  battle,  they  have  proved  the 
shadow  of  the  great  rock  in  the  burning  noontide 
in  the  weary  land  ;  therefore  do  tliey  talk  of  these 
things,  and  of  Him  who  is  all  these  unto  them, 
wdth  an  unction  and  a  relish  v^'hich  we,  who  have 
but  just  put  on  our  harness,  can  enjoy,  although 
we  cannot  attahi  unto  it  at  present.  We  must  dive 
into  the  same  waters  if  we  would  bring  up  the 
same  pearls.  May  the  great  Illuminator  sow  our 
path  with  light,  that  we  may  increase  in  knowledge 
of  the  love  of  Christ,  and  in  earnestness  of  love  to 
Christ,  in  proportion  as  we  draw  near  to  the  celes- 
tial city. 

We  now  advance  to  another  step,  which  stands 
in  strict  connection  witli  the  subject  upon  which 
we  have  just  m.editated. 

Y.  Communion  opens  up  another  means  by  which 
love  is  excited,  and  its  nature  affected.     We  love 


29tt  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

him  because  we  have  seen  him,  and  entered  into 
fellowship  with  him.  However  true  and  faithful 
the  tidings  which  another  person  may  bring  us 
concerning  the  Saviour,  we  shall  never  feel  love 
towards  him  in  all  the  power  of  it  until  we  have 
with  our  own  eyes  beheld  him,  or,  rather,  have 
laid  hold  on  him  with  our  own  faith.  Personal 
intercourse  with  Jesus  is  pre-eminently  a  cause  of 
love,  and  it  so  infallibly  quickens  the  affections 
that  it  is  impossible  to  live  in  the  society  of  Jesus 
without  loving  him.  ISTearness  of  life  towards  the 
Lamb  will  necessarily  involve  greatness  of  love  to 
him.  As  nearness  to  the  sun  increases  the  tem- 
perature of  the  various  planets,  so  close  commu- 
nion with  Jesus  raises  the  heat  of  the  affections 
towards  him. 

We  hope  to  have  another  opportunity  of  unfold- 
ing the  sweetness  of  communion,  and  therefore  we 
will  but  notice  one  part  of  it — viz.,  Clmst's  mani- 
festations, as  being  a  mighty  incentive  to  affection. 
Our  blessed  Lord,  at  intervals  more  or  less  fre- 
quent, is  graciously  pleased  to  shed  abroad  in  the 
soul  a  most  enchanting  and  rapturous  sense  of  his 
love.  He  opens  the  ear  of  the  favoured  saint  to 
hear  the  sweet  canticles  of  the  bridegroom's  joy, 
and  softly  he  singeth  his  song  of  loves.  He  mani- 
fests his  heart  to  the  heart  of  his  chosen  ones,  so 
J:hat  they  know  him  to  be  the  sweetest,  firmest,  and 
most  ardent  of  lovers.     They  feel  that  he  loves  as 


295 


a  head,  as  a  fatlier,  as  a  friend,  as  a  kinsman,  as  a 
brother,  as  a  husband ;  they  beliold  the  love  of  all 
relationships  nnited  and  exceeded  in  the  love  of 
Christ.     They  are  confident  that  he  loves  them 
more  than  they  love  themselves ;  yea,  that  he  loves 
them  above  his  own  life.     This  tends  to  raise  their 
souls  towards  him ;  he  becomes  wholly  delectable 
unto   them,   and   is   enshrined   upon   the   highest 
throne  of  their  hearts.      Possessed  with  a  sense 
of  the  love  of  their  dying  Lord,  they  feel  that  had 
they  a  heart  as  wide  as  eternity,  it  could  not  con- 
tain more  love  than  they  desire  to  give  him.     Thus 
are  they  impelled  to  daring  service  and  patient 
suffering  for  his  sake.     "  There  is  a  power  in  this 
love  which  conquers,  captivates,  and  overpowers 
the  man,  so  that  he  cannot  but  love.     God's  love 
hath  a  generative  power ;  our  love  is  brought  forth 
by  his  love."^     Say,  poor  soul,  what  get  3^ou  in 
Christ  whenever  you  go  to  him  ?     Can  you  not  say, 
Oh !  I  get  more  love  to  him  than  I  had  before  ;  I 
never  approached  near  to  him  but  I  gained  a  large 
draught  and  ample  fill  of  love  to  God.     Out  of  liis 
fulness  we  receive  grace  for  grace,  and  love  for 
love.     In  a  word,  by  faith  we  behold  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  as  in  a  glass,  and  are  changed  into  the 
same  ima2;e — and  the  iraajJ-e  of  God  is  love.     'No 
way  so  ready  for  begetting  love   to  Christ  as  a 

*  R.  Erskine. 


296  THE    SATNT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

sense  of  the  love  o/" Christ.  The  one  is  a  loadstone 
to  attract  the  other.  As  fire  grows  by  the  addi- 
tion of  fuel,  so  does  our  love  to  Christ  increase  by 
renewed  and  enlarged  discoveries  of  his  love  to  ns. 
Love  is  love's  food.  If,  as  parents,  we  make  known 
our  love  to  onr  children,  and  deal"  wisely  with 
them,  it  is  but  natural  that  their  afi*ections  should 
become  more  and  more  knit  to  us ;  so  it  seems  but 
as  in  the  common  course  of  things  that  vhere  much 
of  divine  love  is  perceived  by  the  soul,  there  will 
be  a  return  of  affection  in  some  degree  propor- 
tionate to  the  measure  of  the  manifestation.  As 
we  pour  water  into  a  dry  pump  when  we  desire  to 
obtain  more — so  must  we  have  the  love  of  Christ 
imparted  to  the  heart  before  we  shall  feel  any 
uprisings  of  delight  in  Him.  Hence  the  import- 
ance of  the  apostolic  prayer,  that  we  may  be  able 
to  understand  with  all  saints  what  is  the  breadth, 
and  length,  and  depth,  and  height,  and  to  know 
the  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  knowledge. 
Beloved  fellow  Christian,  pray  for  more  open  dis- 
coveries of  the  love  and  loveliness  of  Christ,  and 
thus  shall  thy  languid  passious  move  more  readily 
in  the  paths  of  obedience.  We  have  all  too  much 
cause  to  mourn  the  poverty  of  our  love  ;  let  us  not 
be  slow  to  seek  the  help  of  the  God  of  Israel  to 
enable  us  to  profit  by  all  the  condescending  mani- 
festations with  which  the  Lord  sees  fit  to  favour 
us. 


297 


VI.  Love  to  the  Person  of  Jesus  is  a  most 
clelisrlitful  state  of  divine  life.  It  will  be  observed 
that  the  Song  of  the  Spouse,  which  is  doubtless 
intended  to  be  tlie  expression  of  the  highest  order 
of  love,  is  composed  rather  of  descri23tions  of  the 
person  of  the  Bridegroom  than  of  any  relation  of 
the  deeds  which  he  performed.  The  whole  lan- 
guage of  the  Book  of  Canticles  is  love,  but  its  most 
overflowing  utterances  are  poured  forth  upon  ihe 
sacred  j?6r<.w7i  of  the  Well-beloved.  How  do  the 
words  succeed  each  other  in  marvellous  and  melo- 
dious succession  when  the  Church  pours  forth 
the  fulness  of  its  heart  in  praises  of  his  beau- 
ties ! — "  My  beloved  is  white  and  ruddy,  the 
chiefest  among  ten  thousand.  His  head  is  as  the 
most  fine  gold,  his  locks  are  bushy,  and  black  as  a 
raven.  His  eyes  are  as  the  eyes  of  doves  by  the 
rivers  of  waters,  washed  with  milk,  and  fitly  set. 
His  cheeks  are  as  a  bed  of  spices,  as  sweet  flowers : 
his  lips  like  lilies,  dropping  sweet  smelling  myrrh. 
His  hands  are  as  gold. rings  set  with  the  beryl:  his 
belly  is  as  bright  ivory  overlaid  with  sapphires. 
His  legs  are  as  pillars  of  marble,  set  upon  sock- 
ets of  fine  gold:  his  countenance  is  as  Lebanon, 
excellent  as  the  cedars.  His  mouth  is  most  sweet : 
yea,  he  is  altogether  lovely."*  Here  it  is  not  the 
crown,  but  the  head,  which  is  the  theme  of  song ; 

*  Sol.  Song  V.  10—16. 
1  'J 


298  THE   SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOIJE. 

not  tlie  garment,  but  tlie  unrobed  body ;  not  the 
shoes,  but  the  feet.  The  song  does  not  celebrate 
his  descent  from  the  king  of  ages,  nor  his  lordship 
over  the  ministers  of  fire,  nor  his  perpetual  priest- 
hood, nor  his  unbounded  sovereignty ;  but  it  finds 
music  enough  in  his  lips,  and  beauty  sufiicient  in 
his  eyes  without  the  glories  which  his  high  offices 
and  omnipotent  grace  have  j^rocured  for  him. 
This  indeed  is  true  love  ;  though  the  wife  regards 
her  husband's  gifts,  and  honours  his  rank  and  titles, 
yet  she  sets  her  afi'ection  upon  his  person,  loves 
him  better  than  his  gifts,  and  esteems  him  for  his 
own  sake  rather  than  for  his  position  among  men. 
Let  us  here  observe,  lest  we  should  be  misunder- 
stood, that  we  do  not  for  a  moment  intend  to  insi- 
nuate that  in  the  earlier  states  of  the  sacred  grace 
of  love,  there  is  any  lack  of  love  to  his  jperson. 
We  know  that  the  first  gushing  of  the  fount  of 
love  is  to  Christy  and  at  all  times  the  soul  goes  out 
towards  him'y  but  we  make  a  distinction  which  we 
think  will  be  readily  perceived,  between  love  to 
the  person,  for  the  sake  of  benefits  received  and 
offices  performed,  and  love  to  the  person  for  the 
jpersoiih  sal^e.  To  suppose  that  a  believer  loves 
the  office  apart  from  the  person  is  to  suppose  an 
absurdity,  but  to  say  that  he  may  love  the  person 
apart  from  the  office  is  but  to  declare  a  great  fact. 
We  love  Hhn  at  all  times,  but  only  the  heavenlj^- 
minded  love  him  for  his  own  person^s  sake. 


LOVE  S    LOGIC. 


What  a  precious  subject  for  contem2:>lation  is  the 
glorious  being  who  is  called  Emmanuel,  God  with 
us,  and  yet  "  the  I  am,"  "  God  over  all !"  The 
complex  person  of  the  mediator,  Jesus  Christ,  is 
the  centre  of  a  believer's  heart.  He  adores  him  in 
all  the  attributes  of  his  God-liead,  as  very  God  of 
very  God — Eternal,  Infinite,  Almighty,  Immutable. 
He  bows  before  him  as  "  God  over  all,  blessed  for 
ever,"  and  pays  him  loving  homage  as  the  everlast- 
ing Father,  Prince  of  peace  ;  and  at  the  same 
time  he  delights  to  consider  him  as  the  infant 
of  Bethlehem,  the  Man  of  sorrows,  the  Son  of  man, 
bone  of  our  bone  and  flesh  of  our  flesh,  tempted  m 
all  points  like  as  we  are,  and  owning  kindred  with 
the  chiklren  of  men.  As  man  yet  God,  creature 
yet  Creator,  infant  and  Infinite,  despised  yet  exalt- 
ed, scourged  though  Omnipotent,  dying  yet  eter- 
nal,— our  dear  Redeemer  must  ever  be  the  object 
of  wondering  affection.  Yea,  when  faith  is  dim, 
and  the  Christian  is  in  doubt  as  to  his  possession  of 
his  Lord,  he  will  at  times  be  able  to  feel  that  his 
thoughts  of  his  Master's  person  are  as  high  as  ever. 
"  Though  he  slay  me,  I  must  love  him.  If  he  will 
not  look  upon  me,  I  cannot  but  bless  him  still.  He 
is  good  and  glorious,  even  thongh  he  damn  me  for 
ever.  I  must  speak  well  of  him,  even  if  he  will 
not  permit  me  to  hope  in  his  mercy ;  for  he  is  a 
glorious  Christ,  and  I  will  not  deny  it,  though  he 
Bliould  now  shut  up  his  bowels  against  an  unworthy 


300  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

creature  like  mjself."  This  is  the  sentiment  of 
the  quickened  child  of  God,  when  his  heart  is 
thoroughly  occupied  with  a  full  and  faithful  view 
of  his  Divine  Lord. 

O  the  savour  of  t^ie  name  of  Jesus,  when  heard 
by  the  ear  which  has  been  opened  by  the  Spirit !  O 
the  beauty  of  the  person  of  Jesus,  when  seen  with 
the  eye  of  faith  by  the  illumination  of  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel !  As  the  light  of  the  morning,  when 
the  sun  ariseth,  as  "  a  morning  without  clouds,"  is 
our  Well-Beloved  unto  us.  The  sight  of  the  burn- 
ing bush  made  Moses  put  off  his  shoes,  but  the 
transporting  vision  of  Jesus  makes  us  put  oS  all 
the  world.  When  once  He  is  seen  we  can  discern 
no  beauties  in  all  the  creatures  in  the  universe. 
He,  like  the  sun,  hath  absorbed  all  other  glories 
into  his  own  excessive  brightness.  This  is  the 
pomegranate  which  love  feeds  upon,  the  flagon 
wherewith  it  is  .comforted.  A  sight  of  Jesus 
causes  such  union  of  heart  with  him,  such  goings 
out  of  the  aifections  after  him,  and  such  meltings 
of  thespirit  towards  him,  that  its  expressions  often 
apj)ear  to  carnal  men  to  be  extravagant  and  forced, 
when  they  are  nothing  but  the  free,  unstudied,  and 
honest  effusions  of  its  love.  Hence  it  is  that  the 
Song  of  Solomon  has  been  so  frequently  assailed, 
and  has  l^ad  its  right  to  a  place  in  the  canon  so 
fiercely  disputed.  The  same  critics  would  deny  tlie 
piety  of  Rutherford,  or  the  reverence  of  Herbert. 


301 


They  are  themselves  ignorant  of  the  divine  passion 
of  love  to  Jesus,  and  therefore  the  language  of  the 
enraptured  heart  is  unintelligible  to  them.  They 
are  poor  translators  of  love's  celestial  tongue. who 
think  it  to  be  at  all  allied  with  the  amorous  super- 
fluities uttered  by  carnal  passions.  Jesus  is  the 
only  one  upon  whom  the  loving  believer  has  fixed 
his  eye,  and  in  his  converse  with  his  Lord  he  will 
often  express  himself  in  language  which  is  meant 
only  for  his  Master's  ear,  and  wdiich  worldlings 
w^ould  utterly  contemn  could  they  but  listen  to  it. 
Nevertheless  love,  like  w^isdom,  "  is  justified  of  her 
children." 

Heaven  itself,  although  it  be  a  fertile  land,  flov/- 
ing  -with  milk  and  honey,  can  produce  no  fairer 
flower  than  the  Rose  of  Sharon  ;  its  highest  joys 
mount  no  higher  than  the  head  of  Jesus ;  its 
sweetest  bliss  is  found  in  his  name  alone.  If  we 
would  know  heaven,  let  us  know  Jesus ;  if  we 
would  be  heavenly,  let  us  love  Jesus.  Oh  that  we 
were  perpetually  in  his  company,  that  our  hearts 
might  ever  be  satisfied  w^ith  his  love !  Let  the 
young  believer  seek  after  a  clear  view  of  the  per- 
son of  Jesus,  and  then  let  him  implore  the  kindling 
fire  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  light  up  his  wdiole  soul 
wdth  fervent  affection.  Love  to  Jesus  is  the  basis 
of  all  true  piety,  and  the  intensity  of  this  love  will 
ever  be  the  measure  of  our  zeal  for  his  glory.  Let 
us  love  him  with  all  our  hearts,  and  then  dilio-ent 


302  THE    SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

labour  and   consistent   conversation  will  be  sure 
to  follow. 

YII.  Kelationship  to  Cheist,  wlien  fully  felt 
and  realised,  produces  a  peculiar  warmth  of  affec- 
tion towards  Him.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  pleased,  at 
certain  favoured  seasons,  to  open  up  to  the  under- 
standino^  and  reveal  to  the  affections  the  nearness 
of  Jesus  to  the  soul.  At  one  time  we  are  blessed 
with  a  delightful  sense  of  trotherhood  with  Christ. 
"  The  man  is  thy  near  kinsman,"  sounds  like  news 
from  a  far  country.  ''  In  ties  of  blood  with  sinners 
one,"  rings  in  our  ears  like  the  music  of  Sabbath 
bells.  We  had  said,  like  the  spouse,  "  O  that  thou 
wert  as  my  brother!"  and  lo !  the  wish  is  gratified. 
He  stands  before  us  in  all  his  condescension,  and 
declares  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call  us  brethren. 
Unveiling  his  face,  he  reveals  himself  as  the  Son 
of  man,  our  kinsman  near  allied  by  blood.  He 
manifests  himself  to  our  rejoicing  spirit  as  "the 
first-born  among  many  brethren,"  and  he  reminds 
us  that  we  are  "joint-heirs  with  liim,"  although  he 
is  "  heir  of  all  things."  The  fraternity  of  Jesns 
cannot  fail  to  quicken  us  to  the  most  ardent  aflec- 
tion,  and  when  he  himself  thus  confesses  the 
relationship,  our  soul  is  melted  at  his  speech. 
Tliat  sweet  name  "brother"  is  like  perfume  to  the 
believer,  and  when  he  lays  hold  upon  it,  it  imparts 
its  fragrance   to   him.     We   have  sometimes   had 


303 


siicli  a  sense  of  satisfaction  in  meditation  npon  this 
heavenly  doctrine,  that  we  connted  all  the  honours 
and  glories  of  this  world  to  be  but  loss  compared 
with  the  excellency  of  it.  For  this  one  fact  of 
brotherhood  with  Christ  we  could  have  bartered 
crowns  and  empires,  and  have  laughed  at  the 
worldly  barterer  as  a  fool,  infinitely  more  mad 
than  Esau  when  he  took  a  pitiful  mess  of  pottage 
as  the  purchase-price  of  a  mighty  birthright.  God 
the  Holy  Ghost  has  made  the  fulness  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  relationship  of  Jesus  roll  into  our  soul 
like  a  river,  and  we  have  been  entirely  carried 
away  in  its  wondrous  torrent.  Our  thoughts  have 
been  entirely  absorbed  in  the  one  transcendently 
glorious  idea  of  brotherhood  with  Jesus,  and  then 
the  emotions  have  arisen  with  great  vehemence, 
and  we  have  pressed  Him  to  our  bosom,  have 
wept  for  joy  upon  his  shoulder,  and  have  lost 
ourselves  in  adoring  love  of  him  who  thus  dis- 
covered- himself  as  bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of 
our  flesh.  We  feel  we  must  love  our  brother,  even 
nature  joins  her  voice  with  grace  to  claim  the 
entire  heart ;  and  veril}^,  in  seasons  of  such  gracious 
manifestations,  the  claim  is  fully  met,  and  the  right 
gladly  acknowledged. 

Another  delightful  relationship  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  is  that  of  Husband,  and  here  he  is  indeed 
to  be  beloved.  Young  Christians  are  married  to 
Christ,  but  they  have  not  in  most  cases  realised 


304  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

the  gracious  privilege  ;  but  the  more  enh'ghtened 
believer  rejoices  in  tlie  remembrance  of  the  mar- 
riage union  of  Christ  and  his  spouse.  To  him  the 
affection,  protection,  provision,  honour,  and  inti- 
macy involved  in  the  divine  nuptials  of  the  blessed 
Jesus  with  his  elect  are  well-springs  of  constant 
jo  J.  "  Thy  Maker  is  th}^  Husband  "  is  to  him  a 
choice  portion  of  the  Word,  and  he  feasts  npon  it 
day  and  night,  when  the  gracious  Spirit  is  pleased 
.to  enable  him  to  lay  hold  upon  it  by  faith.  A 
tranquil,  confident  frame  will  immediately  result 
from  a  satisfactory  persuasion  of  this  glorious  truth, 
and  with  it  there  will  be  a  fervency  of  affection 
and  a  continued  union  of  heart  to  Christ  Jesus, 
which  is  hardly  attainable  in  any  other  manner. 

In  his  conjugal  relation  to  his  Church,  the  Lord 
Jesus  takes  great  delight,  and  desires  that  we 
should  see  the  glory  of  it.  He  would  have  us  con- 
sider him  in  the  act  of  betrothing  and  espousing 
his  Church  unto  himself:  "Go  forth," 'saith  he, 
"  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  and  behold  King 
Solomon  with  the  crown  wherewith  his  mother 
crowned  him  in  the  day  of  his  espousals,  and  in  the 
day  of  the  gladness  of  his  heart."  "^ 

"  It  is  the  gladness  of  the  heart  of  Christ,  and 
the  joy  of  his  soul,  to  take  poor  sinners  into  rela- 
tion with  himself  ;"f  and  if  so,  it  cannot  fail  to  be 

*  Sol.  Song.  iii.  11.  f  Owen. 


305 


an  equal  source  of  rejoicing  to  tliose  who  are 
tlms  favoured.  Meditate  miicli  on  tliy  divine  rela- 
tionsliijDS,  and  thine  heart  shall  be  much  warmed 
thereby. 

YIII.  A  persuasion  of  our  Uniok  to  Jesus  must 
also  stir  up  the  passions  to  a  holy  llame.  We  are, 
by  the  decree  of  God,  made  one  with  our  Covenant 
Head  the  Lord  Jesus.  From  before  all  worlds  this 
eternal  union  was  most  firmly  settled  upon  a  sub- 
stantial basis  ;  but  our  personal  knowledge  of  it  is 
a  thing  of  time,  and  is  vouchsafed  to  us  in  the 
appointed  season  by  God  the  Holy  Ghost.  How 
swiftly  doth  the  heart  pursue  its  Lord  v^^hen  it  has 
learned  its  oneness  to  Him !  What  man  will  not 
love  his  own  flesh?  who  will  not  love  himself? 
ISTow,  when  the  soul  perceives  the  indissoluble 
union  which  exists  between  itself  and  the  Saviour, 
it  can  no  more  resist  the  impulse  of  affection  than 
a  man  can  forbear  to  love  his  own  body.  It  is 
doubtless  a  high  attainment  in  the  divine  life  to  be 
fully  possessed  with  a  sense  of  vital  union  to  Christ, 
and  hence  the  love  arising  from  it  is  of  a  peculiarly 
rich  and  vehement  character.  Some  pastures  give 
richness  to  the  flesh  of  tlie  cattle  which  feed  upon 
them  :  truly,  this  is  a  fat  pasture,  and  the  aftection 
which  feedeth  upon  it  cannot  be  otherwise  than 
excellent  to  a  superlative  degree.  In  fine,  as  an 
abiding:  sense  of  oneness  with  the  Lord  is   one  of 


306  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

tlie  sweetest  works  of  the  Spirit  in  tlie  souls  of  tlie 
elect,  so  tlie  love  springing  therefrom  is  of  the  very- 
highest  and  most  spiritual  nature.  None  can  sur- 
pass it ;  yea,  it  is  questionable  whether  so  high  a 
degree  of  affection  can  be  obtained  by  any  other 
means,  however  forcible  and  inflaming.  But  set 
it  down  as  a  rule  that  we  ouo-ht  never  to  halt  or  sit 
down  in  any  attainment  of  nearness  to  Jesus  until 
we  have  brought  it  to  such  a  measure  that  no  more 
can  be  enjoyed,  and  until  we  have  reached  the 
utmost  possible  height  therein.  If  there  be  an 
inner  chamber  in  which  the  king  doth  store  his 
choicest  fruits,  let  us  enter,  for  he  bids  us  make  free 
with  all  in  liis  house ;  and  if  there  be  a  secret 
place  where  he  doth  show  his  loves,  let  us  hasten 
thitlier  and  embrace  Him  whom  our  soul  loveth, 
and  there  let  us  abide  until  we  see  him  face  to  face 
in  the  upper  skies. 

But  what  will  be  the  love  of  Heaven  ?  Here  we 
utterly  fail  in  description  or  conception.  The  best 
enjoyments  of  Christ  on  earth  are  but  as  the  dip- 
ping our  finger  in  water  for  the  cooling  of  our 
thirst ;  but  heaven  is  bathing  in  seas  of  bliss  :  even 
so  our  love  here  is  but  one  drop  of  the  same  sub- 
stance as  the  waters  of  fhe  ocean,  but  not  compara- 
ble for  magnitude  or  depth.  Oh,  how  sweet  it  will 
be  to  be  married  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  to  enjoy 
for  ever,  and  without  any  interruption,  the  hea- 
venly delights  of  liis  society  !     Surely,  if  a  glimpse 


love's  logic.  307 

of  him  meltetli  our  soul,  tlie  full  fruition  of  liim 
will  be  enough  to  burn  us  up  with  affection.  It  is 
well  that  we  shall  have  more  noble  frames  in  hea- 
ven than  we  have  here,  otherwise  we  should  die 
of  love  in  the  very  land  of  life.  An  honoured 
saint  was  once  so  ravished  with  a  revelation  of  his 
Lord's  love,  that  feeling  his  mortal  frame  to  be 
unable  to  sustain  more  of  such  bliss,  he  cried, 
"  Hold,  Lord,  it  is  enough,  it  is  enough !"  But 
there  we  shall  be  able  to  set  the  bottomless  well  of 
love  to  our  lips,  and  drink  on  for  ever,  and  yet  feel 
no  weakness.  Ah,  that  will  be  love  indeed  which 
shall  overflow  our  souls  for  ever  in  our  Father's 
house  above !  WJio  can  tell  the  transports,  the 
raptures,  the  amazements  of  delight  which  that 
love  shall  beget  in  us?  and  who  can  guess  the 
sweetness  of  the  song,  or  the  swiftness  of  the  obe- 
dience which  will  be  the  heavenly  expressions  of 
love  made  perfect?  ^N'o  heart  can  conceive  the 
surj^assing  bliss  which  the  saints  shall  enjoy  when 
\he  sea  of  their  love  to  Christ,  and  the  ocean  of 
Christ's  love  to  them,  shall  meet  each  other  and 
raise  a  very  tempest  of  delight.  The  distant  pros- 
pect is  fnll  of  joy  :  what  must  be  the  fruition  of  it? 
To  answer  that  question  we  must  wait  all  the  days 
of  our  appointed  time  till  our  change  come,  unless 
the  Lord  himself  should  suddenly  appear  in  the 
clouds  to  glorify  us  with  himself  throughout 
eternitv. 


308  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

Beloved  fellow-lieirs  of  tlie  same  inheritance,  we 
have  thus  reviewed  some  of  the  causes  and  phases 
of  the  Christian  grace  of  love ;  let  us  now  ask  our- 
selves the  question,  How  is  it  with  our  love  ?  Is  it 
hot  or  cold?  Is  it  decaying  or  increasing?  How 
stands  the  heart,  God- ward  and  Christ-ward?  Is 
it  not  far  too  slow  in  its  motions,  too  chilly  in  its 
devotion?  We  must  admit  it  is  so.  Let  us  use 
the  various  arguments  of  this  chapter  as  levers  for 
lifting  our  heavy  hearts  to  greater  heights  of  affec- 
tion, and  then  let  us  unitedly  cry — 

"  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  Heavenly  Dove, 
With  all  thy  quickening  powers ; 
Come,  shed  abroad  the  Saviour's  love, 
And  that  shall  kindle  ours." 

It  may  be  that  the  sneering  critic  has  been 
offended  with  all  this  discourse  concerning  love, 
and  has  turned  U]3on  his  heel,  protesting  with 
vehemence  that  he  is  of  a  philosophic  spirit,  and 
will  never  endure  such  sickly  sentimentalism.  To 
him  religion  is  thought,  not  emotion.  It  is  a  cold, 
speculative,  unfeeling  divinity  which  he  believes, 
and  its  effects  upon  his  mind  are  the  reverse  of 
enthusiastic. 

Reason,  "  heavenly  Reason,"  is  his  God,  and 
Feeling  must  lie  dormant  beneath  the  throne  of 
his  great  deity.  We  beg  to  remind  him  that  the 
religion  of  the  cross  was  intended  to  stir  the  soul 


309 


with  deep  emotion,  and  that  where  it  is  truly 
received  it  accomplishes  its  end ;  hut  that  if  the 
passions  be  not  moved  by  it,  there  is  a  strong  pre- 
sumption that  is  has  never  been  in  true  operation. 
We  do  not  wonder  that,  to  the  man  who  views 
religion  as  a  mere  compendium  of  truths  for  the 
head,  it  is  a  powerless  thing,  for  it  is  intended  to 
work  in  another  manner.  Wine  may  serve  to 
cheer  the  heart,  but  who  would  expect  to  feel  its 
exhilarating  influence  by  pouring  it  upon  his  head. 
The  holy  Gospel  makes  its  first  appeal  to  man's 
heart,  and  nntil  it  be  heard  in  that  secret  chamber 
it  is  not  heard  at  ^11.  So  long  as  mere  reason  is 
the  only  listener,  the  melody  of  the  cross  will  be 
unheard.  Charm  we  never  so  wisely,  men  cannot 
hear  the  music  nntil  the  ears  of  the  heart  are 
opened.  Yinet"^  has  thus  expressed  himself  upon 
this  subject: — "Ah!  how  can  reason,  cold  reason, 
comprehend  such  a  thing  as  the  substitution  of  the 
innocent  for  the  guilty ;  as  the  compassion  which 
reveals  itself  in  severity  of  punishment  in  that 
shedding  of  blood,  without  which,  it  is  said,  there 
can  be  no  expiation?  It  will  not  make,  I  dare 
affirm,  a  single  step  towards  the  knowledge  of  that 
divine  mystery,  until,  casting  away  its  ungrateful 
speculations,  it  yields  to  a  stronger  power  the  task 
of  terminating  the  difficulty.     That  power  is  the 

*  See  his  Vital  Christianity. 


310  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOCK. 

heart,  which  fixes  itself  entirely  on  the  love  that 
shines  forth  in  the  work  of  redemption ;  cleaves 
without  distraction  to  the  sacrifice  of  the  adorable 
victim ;  lets  the  natural  impression  of  that  unparal- 
leled love  penetrate  freely,  and  develo]3  itself  gra- 
dually in  its  interior.  Oh,  how  quicldj^,  then,  are 
the  veils  torn  away,  and  the  shadows  dissipated  for 
ever  !  How  little  difficulty  does  he  wdio  loves  find 
in  comj)rehending  love !"  To  the  heart  all  divine 
mysteries  are  but  simplicities,  and  when  reason  is 
measuring  the  apparently  inaccessible  heights,  love 
is  already  shouting  on  the  summit.  Let  the  cold, 
calculating  worshipper  of  intellect  reserve  his 
sneers  for  himself.  Experience  is  one  of  the 
highest  of  sciences,  and  the  emotions  claim  a  high 
precedence  in  the  experience  which  is  from  God. 
That  wliich  these  boasters  contemn  as  an  old  wives' 
story,  is  not  one  half  so  contemptible  as  themselves 
— yea,  more,  the  pious  feelings  at  which  they  jeer 
are  as  much  beyond  their  highest  thoughts  as  the 
sonnets  of  angels  excel  the  gruntings  of  swine. 

It  has  become  fashionable  to  allow  the  title  of 
"intellectual  preachers"  to  a  class  of  men,  whose 
passionless  essays  are  combinations  of  metaphysical 
quibbles  and  heretical  doctrines  ;  who  are  shocked 
at  the  man  who  excites  his  hearers  beyond  the 
freezing-point  of  insensibility,  and  are  quite  elated 
if  they  hear  that  their  homily  could  only  be  under- 
stood by  a  few.     It  is,  however,  no  question  whe- 


811 


ther  these  men.  deserve  tlieir  distinctive  title ;  it 
may  be  settled  as  an  axiom  that  falsehood  is  no 
intellectual  feat,  and  that  miintelligible  jargon  is 
no  evidence  of  a  cultured  mind.  There  must  be 
in  our  religion  a  fair  proportion  of  believing,  think- 
ing, understanding,  and  discerning,  but  there  must 
be  also  the  preponderating  influences  of  feeling, 
loving,  delighting,  and  desiring.  That  religion  is 
worth  nothing  which  has  no  dwelllno;  in  man  but 
his  brain.  To  love  much  is  to  be  wise  ;  to  grow  in 
affection  is  to  grow  in  knowledge,  and  to  increase 
in  tender  attachment  is  to  be  making  high  profi- 
ciency in  divine  things. 

Look  to  thy  love,  O  Christian !  and  let  the  car- 
nal revile  thee  never  so  much,  do  thou  persevere 
in  seeking  to  walk  with  Christ,  to  feel  his  love, 
and  triumph  in  his  grace. 


TO  THE  UNCOIs^yERTED  READER. 


Friend, — This  time  vre  will  not  preacli  the 
t-eiTors  of  the  law  to  thee,  although  they  are  thy 
deserts.  "We  wish  thee  well,  and  if  threatening 
will  not  awaken  thee,  we  will  try  what  wooing 
may  accomplish,  and  oh!  may  the  Holy  Spirit 
bless  the  means  to  thy  sonl's  salvation. 

The  Lord  Jesus  hath  purchased  unto  himself  a 
number  beyond  all  human  count,  and  we  would 
have  thee  mark  who  and  what  they  were  by 
nature. 

The  blood-bought  ones,  before  their  regenera- 
tion, were  in  the  gall  of  bitterness  and  in  the  bonds 
of  iniquity;  they  were  aliens  from  the  common- 
wealth of  Isi-ael,  and  strangers  from  the  covenants 
of  promise ;  they  had  chosen  to  themselves  other 
gods,  and  were  joined  to  idols;  they  walked 
according  to  the  course  of  this  world,  according  to 
the  Prince  of  the  Power  of  the  air,  the  spirit  that 
now  worketh  in  the  children  of  disobedience;  they 

312 


313 


were  polluted  in  their  blood,  cast  out  in  tlie  open 
Held  to  perisli;  they  were  despisers  of  God,  in 
league  with  hell,  and  in  covenant  with  Death ;  but 
nevertheless  they  were  chosen,  were  redeemed, 
and  have  received  the  glorious  title  of  Sons  and 
Danghters. 

Now,  Friend,  if  free  grace  has  done  thus  with 
one  and  another,  why  shonld  it  not  accomplish  the 
same  for  thee  ?  Dost  thou  feel  thy  deep  necessi- 
ties ?  Do  thy  bowels  yearn  for  mercy  ?  Art  thou 
made  willing  to  be  saved  in  God's  way  ?  Then  be 
of  good  cheer.  The  promise  is  thine,  the  blood 
of  Jesus  was  shed  for  thee,  the  Holy  Spirit  is  at 
work  with  thee,  thy  salvation  draweth  nigh.  He 
that  calleth  iijpon  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  le 
saved.  Thy  cries  shall  yet  be  heard,  since  they 
come  from  a  broken  heart  and  a  contrite  s^^iiit. 
Remember,  faith  in  Jesus  alone  can  give  thee 
peace. 

But  art  thou  still  hard  and  stolid,  still  brutish 
and  worldly?  Then,  permit  the  writer  to  weep 
over  thee,  and  bring  thy  case  before  the  Lord  his 
God.  Oh  that  the  Lord  would  melt  thee  by  the 
fire  of  his  word!  Oh  that  he  would  break  thee 
with  his  hammer,  and  humble  thee  at  his  feet ! 
Alas  for  thee,  unless  this  be  done!  Oh  that  omni- 
potent grace  would  snatch  thee  from  the  ruin  of 
the  proud,  and  deliver  thy  feet  from  going  down 
into  the  pit !     Miserable  man  !   a  brother's  heart 

14 


314  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

longeth  after  thee,  and  fain  would  see  thee  saved. 
Oh,  why  art  thou  so  indifferent  to  thyself  when 
others  can  scarce  refrain  from  tears  on  thy  behalf ! 
By  thy  mother's  prayers,  thy  sister's  tears,  and  thy 
father's  anxieties,  I  beseech  thee  give  a  reason  for 
thy  sottish  indifference  to  thine  eternal  welfare. 
Dost  thou  now  come  to  thyself  ?  Dost  thou  now 
exclaim,  "I  will  arise  and  go  unto  my  Father?" 
Oh,  be  assured  of  a  welcome  reception,  of  glad- 
some entertainment,  and  loving  acceptance. 

"  From  the  Mount  of  Calvary, 
Where  the  Saviour  deigned  to  die, 
What  melodious  sounds  I  hear. 
Bursting  on  ruy  ravished  ear! — 
Love's  redeeming  work  is  done ! 
Come,  and  vtelcome,  sinner,  come. 

"  Now  behold  the  festal  board. 
With  its  richest  dainties  stored  ; 
To  thy  Father's  bosom  press'd. 
Once  again  a  child  confess'd. 
From  his  house  no  more  to  roam ; 
Come,  and  welcome,  sinner,  come." 


IX. 

JESUS  IN  THE  HOUR   OF  TROUBLE. 


Who  passing  tlirough  the  valley  of  Baca  make   it  a  well ;  the 
rain  also  filleth  the  pools." — Ps.  Ixxxiv.  6. 


PiLGREviAGE  to  ail  appointed  slirine  seems  to  be 
an  essential  part  of  most  religions.  The  tribes  of 
Israel  made  yearly  journeys  to  Jerusalem,  that  at 
one  great  altar  they  might  sacrifice  unto  the  Lord 
their  God.  Borrowing  the  idea,  probably,  from 
the  Jews,  we  find  false  religions  inculcating  the 
same.  The  disciples  of  Brahma  are  required  to 
undertake  long  and  painful  journeys  to  the  temple 
of  Juggernaut,  or  to  the  banks  of  their  sacred 
river,  the  Ganges.  The  Mahometan  has  his  Kebla 
of  worship;  and,  if  he  be  thoroughly  a  devout 
follower  of  the  false  prophet,  he  must,  once  in  his 
life,  offer  his  petitions  at  Mecca.  And  who  has 
not  heard  of  the  palmer  plodding  his  weary  way 
to  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  or  of  the  Canterbury  pil- 
grim going  to  the  tomb  of  Thomas  a  Becket  ? 

815 


816  THE    SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUK. 

But  the  religion  of  God,  the  revelation  of  our 
most  merciful  Father,  does  not  thus  deal  with  man. 
It  prescribes  no  earthly  pilgrimage.  It  knows 
nothing  of  local  restrictions.  It  declares  that 
"  neither  in  this  mountain  nor  jet  at  Jerusalem 
shall  men  worship  the  Father ;"  that  "  God  is  a 
spirit,"  everywhere  present,  and  as  a  spirit  "  must 
be  worshipped,"  not  merely  by  outward  acts,  but 
in  spirit  and  in  truth." 

Yet  "  pilgrimage  "  is  one  of  the  leading  ideas  of 
Christianity.  Every  Christian  is  mystically  a  pil- 
grim. His  rest  is  not  here.  He  is  not  a  citizen 
of  earth.  Here  he  has  no  abiding  city.  He  jour- 
neys to  a  shrine  unseen  by  mortal  eye,  whither  his 
fathers  have  arrived.  This  life-journey  is  his  one 
incessant  occupation.  He  came  into  the  world 
that  he  might  march  through  it  in  haste.  He  is 
ever  a  pilgrim,  in  the  fullest  and  truest  sense. 

I^othing  can  be  more  pleasing  to  a  thoughtful 
Christian  than  marking  the  footsteps  of  the  fiock, 
and  tracing  the  track  they  have  left  in  the  blood- 
besprinkled  way.  Thus  the  geograph}^  of  Christian 
life  becomes  an  interesting  study.  To  enter  the 
wicket-gate,  to  sit  in  the  arbour  on  the  hill-side,  to 
lie  in  the  chamber  of  peace  in  the  House  Beautiful, 
to  stand  on  the  Delectable  Mountains,  or  walk 
among  the  spice  beds  of  the  land  Beulah,  yields 
far  sweeter  pleasure  than  fairy  dreams,  or  tales 
coloured  by  fancy,  whispered  by  the  lips  of  music. 


JESTJ8    IN   THE    HOUR   OF   TROUBLE.  317 

There  are  many  fair  and  enclianting  spots  in  the 
high^Yay  of  salvation — spots  which  angels  have 
visited,  and  which  the  saints  have  sighed  to  behold 
again  and  again.  But  some  other  parts  of  the  way 
are  not  so  inviting;  we  love  not  to  enter  the  Yalley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  nor  to  approach  the  moun- 
tains of  the  leopards,  nor  the  lions'  dens,  yet  must 
all  of  them  be  passed. 

It  is  a  precious  mercy  that  Jesus,  the  heavenly 
Friend,  is  willing  and  able  to  accompany  us  in  all 
our  journeyings,  and  is  the  consolation  of  our  souls 
in  periods  of  blackest  woe.  After  surveying  the 
Yalley  of  Baca^  noticing  the  toilsome  effort  of  the 
pilgrims  in  digging  wells  therein,  and  remarking 
the  heavenly  svj^jyly  with  which  the  pools  are  filled, 
we  shall  consider  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  as 
exhibited  to  his  people  in  their  sorrowful  passage 
through  this  Yale  of  Tears. 

I.  The  Yalley  of  Baca.  The  best  description 
given  of  the  Yalley  of  Baca  seems  to  be,  that  it 
was  a  defile  through  which  a  portion  of  the  tribes 
had  to  pass  on  their  journey  to  the  city  of  their 
solemnities.  It  was  a  place  noted  for  its  dryness, 
and  therefore  pits  were  digged  therein  for  the  pur- 
pose of  holding  rain-water  for  the  thirsty  wayfarers 
as  they  passed  through  it.  But,  probably,  the 
Psalmist  .looked  not  so  much  at  the  place  as  at 
its  name,  which  signifies  "Yalley  of  Sorrow,  or 


318  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

Tears."  The  Septuagint  translates  it,  "  Yalley  of 
Lamentation,"  and  the  Latin  Yiilgate,  ''Yale  of 
Tears."  AYe  may  therefore  read  the  verse  thus : — 
"  Who  passing  through  the  vale  of  Tears  make  it  a 
well."  &c.  Of  this  valley  we  may  observe,  first, 
It  is  mucli  freqiieiited.  The  way  to  Zion  lies 
through  its  glooms.  Many  of  God's  chosen  ones 
are  carried  from  the  breast  to  glory,  and  thus 
escape  this  dreary  place,  but  all  the  rest  of  God's 
children  must  pass  through  it.  Frequent  are  their 
sojourning  in  this  "  house  of  mourning."  JSTot  once 
nor  twice,  but  many  a  time  must  they  tread  this 
valley.  As  numerous  as  their  days  are  the  causes 
of  their  griefs.  The  molestations  of  disease,  the 
disappointments  of  business,  the  losses  of  adversity, 
and  the  havocs  of  death,  combining  with  a  thousand 
other  ills,  furnish  enough  material  for  the  much 
tribulation  through  which  we  inherit  the  kingdom. 
All  men  have  their  times  of  sadness,  but  some 
seem  to  be  always  in  the  deep  waters — their  lives, 
like  Ezekiel's  roll,  seem  written  within  and  with- 
out with  lamentations.  They  can  just  dimly  recol- 
lect happier  days,  but  those  are  past  long  ago. 
They  have  for  some  time  been  the  children  of 
grief.  They  seldom  eat  a  crust  unmoistened  by  a 
tear.  Sorrow's  wormwood  is  their  daily  salad. 
Perhaps  some  sudden  calamity  has  snatched  away 
the  gourd  which  covered  their  head,  and,  Jonah- 
like, they  think  they  do  well  to  be  angry  even  unto 


JESUS  IN  THE  HOUR  OF  TROUBLE.        319 

cleatli.  A  haze,  dark  and  heavy,  hangs  like  a  pall 
before  their  eyes,  and  clothes  life's  scenery  with 
sadness  and  gloom.  Some  are  associated  with 
ungodly  partners,  by  whose  unkindness  their  days 
are  made  bitter,  and  their  lives  a  burden.  Various 
are  tlie  causes  of  grief.  The  chains  of  melancholy 
differ  in  their  size  and  material.  Bound  in  afflic- 
tion and  iron,  art  thou  saying,  "  He  hath  made  my 
chain  heavy  ?"  Oh,  child  of  grief,  remember  the 
vale  of  tears  is  much  frequented  ;  thou  art  not 
alone  in  thy  distress.  Sorrow  has  a  numerous 
family.  Say  not,  I  am  the  man  that  has  seen 
affliction,  for  there  be  others  in  the  furnace  with 
thee.  Remember,  moreover,  the  King  of  kings 
once  went  through  this  valley,  and  here  he 
obtained  his  name,  "  the  Man  of  sorrows,"  for  it 
was  while  passing  through  it  he  became  '^  acquaint- 
ed with  grief." 

But,  blessed  be  God,  all  his  people  are  not  thus 
clad  in  sackcloth  and  filled  with  bitterness.  Some 
of  them  can  sing  for  joy  of  heart,  and,  like  the 
lark,  rise  to  heaven's  gates,  carolling  notes  of 
praise.  Yet,  be  it  observed,  there  is  not  one  who 
has  not  had  his  valley  of  Baca.  lie  of  flashing  eye 
and  cheerful  countenance  was  once  walking  in  its 
dark  and  dreary  paths.  He  who  danced  before 
the  ark  had  cried  out  of  the  depths  unto  the  Lord. 
He  whom  you  heard  in  prayer,  with  free  heart 
blessing  his  Maker,  was  lately  in  his  bed-chamber, 
crying   out   with   Job,    "  O   that   my   grief  were 


320  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR/ 

weighed !"  and  with  Jeremiah,  ''  He  hath  filled 
me  with  bitterness,  and  made  me  dnmken  with 
wormwood." 

Oh,  mourner,  say  not  that  thou  art  a  target  for 
all  the  arrows  of  the  Almiglitj ;  take  not  to  thyself 
the  pre-eminence  of  woe;  for  thy  fellows  have 
trodden  the  valley  too,  and  upon  them  are  the 
scars  of  the  thorns  and  briars  of  the  dreary  path- 
way. 

Secondly,  this  valley  is  exceedingly  unjjleasant 
to  flesh  and  blood.  TVe  love  to  ascend  the  moun- 
tains of  myrrh  and  hills  of  frankincense,  rather 
than  to  descend  into  this  dismal  region.  For  tri- 
bulation is  not  joyous  but  grievous.  Disguise  sor- 
row as  we  may,  it  is  sorrow  still.  No  pilgrim  ever 
wished  to  enter  here  for  its  own  sake,  though  there 
have  been  many  who  Imve  rejoiced  in  the  midst 
of  its  darkest  and  most  gloomy  paths,  l^ow,  let 
us  briefly  consider  why  this  valley  is  so  unpleasant 
to  heaven-bound  traveller.  It  is  so  because  we 
can  find  no  rivers  of  water  in  it.  Earthly  joys  are 
continually  failing  us ;  and  created  cisterns,  one 
after  another,  are  dried  up.  A  hot,  dry  wind 
steals  away  every  drop  of  comfort,  and,  hungry  and 
thirsty,  our  soul  fainteth  in  us.  ]^o  fruit  of  sweet- 
ness grows  here.  It  well  answers  the  description 
of  Watts  :— 

"  Its  yields  us  no  supply, 
No  cheering  fruits,  no  wholesome  trees, 
Nor  streams  of  living  joy." 


JESUS    IN   THE   HOUE    OF   TKOUBLE.  321 

Many  rich  mercies  are  here  received  by  pilgrims, 
but  these  are  not  the  fruits  of  the  place  itself,  but 
the  gifts  of  heaven.  It  is,  moreover,  disagreeable 
travelling  in  this  valley,  because  the  way  is  rough 
and  rugged.  In  some  parts  of  the  Christian  jour- 
ney we  are  led  into  green  jDastures  beside  the  still 
waters  ;  but  this  valley  is  thorny,  stony,  and  flinty, 
and  every  way  uncomfortable.  True,  there  are 
many  labourers,  called  promises,"  ever  at  work 
breaking  the  stones,  and  helping  passengers  over 
its  more  difficult  places ;  but  notwithstanding  this 
aid,  journeying  through  it  is  very  rough  work  for 
all,  but  esj)ecially  for  those  pilgrims  who  are  weak, 
and  ready  to  halt.  It  is  also  frequently  very  dark. 
The  vale  of  tears  is  very  low,  and  descends  far  be- 
neath the  ordinary  level ;  some  parts  of  it,  indeed, 
are  tunnelled  through  rocks  of  anguish.  A  fre- 
quent cause  of  its  darkness  is  that  on  either  side 
of  the  valley  there  are  high  mountains,  called  the 
mountains  of  sin.  These  rise  so  high  that  they 
obscure  the  light  of  the  snn.  Behind  these  Andes 
of  guilt  God  hides  his  face,  and  we  are  troubled. 
Then  how  densely  dark  the  pathway  becomes ! 
Indeed,  this  is  the  very  worst  thing  that  can  be 
mentioned  of  this  valley :  for,  if  it  were  not  so 
dark,  pilgrims  would  not  so  much  dread  passing 
through  it. 

The  soul  of  the  traveller  is  also  often  discourao^ed 
on  account  of  the  length  of  the  way.     Through  the  • 

1I> 


322  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

darkness  of  the  place  it  seems  as  thongli  it  had  no 
termination,  for,  although  it  is  known  that  the  dark 
river  of  death  flows  across  its  extremity,  but,  in 
the  night  season,  the  celestial  city  on  the  other 
side  cannot  be  seen.  This  is  the  Egyptian  dark- 
ness which  may  be  felt,  and,  like  solid  piles  of 
ebony,  at  such  times  it  appears  to  have  an  ada- 
mantine hardness  in  it.  Besides,  this  valley  is 
much  haunted. '  Evil  spirits  are  very  common  in 
it.  When  a  man  is  in  the  valley  of  Baca,  Satan 
will  soon  be  at  him  with  his  fiery  darts,  cursed 
insinuations,  and  blasphemous  suggestions.  Like 
the  bandit,  he  waylays  us  in  the  roughest  and 
darkest  part  of  our  way.  This  much  deepens  the 
horror  of  the  place. 

Thirdly,  this  valley  is  very  healthful.  In  all  the 
King's  dominions,  save  alone  the  royal  pavilion  in 
glory,  there  is  no  spot  more  conducive  to  the  soul's 
health  than  this.  The  air  from  the  sea  of  afHiction 
is  extremely  beneficial  to  invalid  Christians.  Con- 
tinued prosperity,  like  a  warm  atmosphere,  has  a 
tendency  to  unbind  the  sinews  and  soften  the 
bones ;  but  the  cold  winds  of  trouble  make  us 
sturdy,  hardy,  and  well  braced  in  every  part.  Un- 
broken success  often  leads  to  an  undervaluing  of 
mercies  and  forgetfulness  of  the  giver;  but  the 
withdrawal  of  the  sunshine  leads  us  to  look  for  the 
sun. 

Fourthly,  it  is  a  very  safe  place.     We  are  not  so 


JESUS    IN   THE   HOUR    OF   TROUBLE.  323 

likely  to  stumble  in  rough  ways  as  in  smooth  and 
slippery  places.  Better  walk  on  rugged  rocks  than 
on  slippery  ice.  If  we  lose  our  roll  it  is  in  the 
harbour  of  ease,  not  in  the  valley  of  Baca.  Few 
Christians  backslide  while  under  the  rod ;  it  is 
usually  when  on  the  hap  of  plenty  that  believers 
sin. 

Fifthly,  it  is,  therefore,  2^  jprofitcible  'place.  Stars 
may  be  seen  from  the  bottom  of  a  deep  well  when 
they  cannot  be  discerned  from  the  top  of  a  moun- 
tain :  so  are  many  things  learned  in  adversity 
which  the  prosperous  man  dreams  not  of.  We 
need  affliction  as  the  trees  need  winter,  that  we 
may  collect  sap  and  nourishment  for  future  blos- 
soms and  fruit.  Sorrow  is  as  necessary  for  the  soul 
as  medicine  is  to  the  body  : — 

"  The  path  of  sorrow,  and  that  path  alone, 
Leads  to  the  land  where  sorrow  is  unknown." 

The  benefits  to  be  derived  in  the  vale  of  tears  are 
greater  than  its  horrors,  and  far  outnumber  its  dis- 
advantages. There  was  a  fiction  once  of  a  golden 
CU23  at  the  foot  of  the  rainbow :  it  would  have  been 
no  fiction  had  they  put  the  treasure  in  the  dark 
cloud.  In  this  valley  of  Baca  there  are  mines  of 
gold  and  of  all  manner  of  precious  things ;  and 
sometimes,  even  in  the  thick  darkness,  one  may 
perceive  the  diamonds  glitter.  Full  many  a  pil- 
grim has  here  been  made  rich  to  all  the  intents  of 


324  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS   SAVIOUE. 

bliss,  and  here  have   others  had  their  heavenly 
wealth  most  marvellously  increased. 
But  we  proceed  to  observe — 

11.  The  Toilsome  Effoet  spoken  of  in  the  words 
at  the  head  of  the  chapter — "  They  make  it  a 
well>"  &c.  When  Eastern  Shepherds  travel,  if 
they  find  no  water,  they  dig  a  well,  and  thus 
obtain  a  plentiful  supply  of  water  for  themselves 
and  for  their  cattle.  So  did  Isaac,  and  so  also  did 
the  rulers  for  the  people  in  the  wilderness.  "When 
we  are  thirsty  and  there  is  no  water  to  be  found  in 
the  pools,  we  must  dig  deep  for  it.  Calvin  trans- 
lates it — "  They,  travelling  through  the  valley  of 
weeping,  will  dig  a  well,"  &c.  This  teaches  us 
that— 

1.  Comfort  may  le  obtained  even  in  the  deej^est 
trouble.  "We  often  look  for  it  and  fancy  there  is 
none.  Like  Hagar,  the  child  of  our  hope  is  given 
up,  and  we  lay  down  to  die  ;  but  why  should  we, 
when  there  is  water  to  be  had,  if  we  will  but  seek 
for  it  ?  Let  no  man  say.  My  case  is  hopeless  ;  let 
none  say,  I  am  in  the  valley,  and  can  never  again 
know  joy.  There  is  hope.  There  is  the  water  of 
life  to  cheer  our  fainting  souls.  It  certainly  is  not 
possible  for  us  to  be  in  a  position  where  Omnipo-^ 
tence  cannot  assist  us.  God  hath  servants  every- 
where, and  where  we  think  he  has  none  his  word 
can  create  a  multitude.     There  are  "  tr;easures  hid 


JESUS    TN"   TTTF.    HOUR    OF   TEOTJELE.  325 

in  tlie  sand,"^  and  the  Lord's  cliosen  sliall  eat 
thereof.  When  the  clouds  hide  the  mountains  they 
are  as  real  as  in  the  sunshine  ;  so  the  promise  and 
the  providence  of  God  are  unchanged  by  the 
obscurity  of  our  faith,  or  the  difficulties  of  our  posi- 
tion. There  is  hope,  and  hope  at  hand,  therefore, 
let  us  be  of  good  cheer. 

2.  It  teaches  that  comfort  must  he  obtained  hy 
exertion.  Well-digging  is  hard  labour :  but  better 
dig  for  water  than  die  of  thirst.  Much  of  the 
misery  Christians  feel  arises  from  inaction.  Cold 
numbs  the  hand  if  exercise  be  not  used.  We  are 
bound  to  use  every  scriptural  means  to  obtain  the 
good  we  need.  The  sanctuary,  the  meeting  for 
prayer,  the  Bible,  the  company  of  the  saints,  pri- 
vate prayer  and  meditation — these  revive  the  souL 
We  must  dig  the  wells.  If  there  be  rocky  granite 
we  must  bore  it;  we  must  not  be  disturbed 
from  perseverance  by  the  labour  of  our  duties, 
but  continue   to   dig   still :    and  what   a   mercy ! 

if  the  well  has  ever  so  small  a  bore  the  water  will 
flow. 

3.  It  teaches  us  that  the  comfort  obtained  by 
one  is  often  of  use  to  another  ;  just  as  wells  opened 
by  former  travellers  would  suffice  for  the  company 
which  came  after.  When  w^e  read  works  full  of 
consolation,  like   Jonathan's   rod,    dropping   with 

*  Dent,  xxxiii.  19. 


326  THE    SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

honey,  let  us  remember  tliat  onr  brother  has  been 
here  before  us,  and  di2:2:ecl  this  welL  "  Sonsrs  in 
the  Night,"  could  only  have  been  written  by  that 
nightingale  in  the  thorns,  Susanna  Harrison. 
Many  a  "  Night  of  Weej^ing,"  "  Midnight  Harmo- 
nies," an  "  Eternal  Day,"  "  A  Crook  in  the  Lot," 
a  "  Comfort  for  Mourners,"  has  been  a  well  dis^o-ed 
by  a  pilgrim  for  himself,  but  has  proved  just  as 
useful  to  others.  Specially  we  notice  this  in  the 
Psalms,  which  console  us,  although  they  were 
mournful  odes  to  David.  Travellers  have  been 
delighted  to  see  the  footprints  of  man  on  a  barren 
shore,  and  we  love  to  see  the  way-marks  of  the  pil- 
grimage while  passing  through  the  vale  of  tears. 
Yea,  the  refuse  and  debris  of  the  receding  camp 
often  furnish  food  for  the  stragglers  behind.  "We 
may  notice — 

in.  The  Heavenly  Supply.  Tlie  pilgrims  dig 
the  well,  but,  strange  enough,  it  fills  from  the  top 
instead  of  the  bottom.  We  use  the  means,  but  the 
blessing  does  not  lie  in  the  means,  but  in  the  God 
of  the  means.  We  dig  the  well,  but  heaven  fills  it 
with  rain.  The  horse  is  prepared  against  the  day 
of  battle,  but  salvation  is  of  the  Lord.  The  means 
are  divinely  connected  with  the  end,  but  they  do 
not  produce  the  blessing.  "  The  rain  filleth  the 
pools,"  so  that  ordinances  and  duties  are  rather 
reservoirs  than  fountains,  containing  comfort,  but 


JESUS    IX    THE    UOVR   OF   TROUBLE.  327 

not  creating  it.  In  vain  are  all  the  ordinances 
witliont  the  divine  blessing ;  as  clouds  without 
rain,  and  pools  without  water,  they  yield  us  no 
supplies.  When  heaven  smiles  and  pours  down 
its  showers  of  grace,  then  they  are  precious 
things  ;  but  without  the  celestial  rain  we  might 
as  much  expect  water  from  the  arid  waste,  as 
a  real  blessing  in  the  use  of  them.  "  All  my 
springs  are  in  Thee,"  is  the  believer's  daily  con- 
fession to  his  Lord — a  confession'  which  until  death 
must  ever  be  upon  his  lips. 

We  now  turn  to  our  legitimate  subject,  from 
which  the  beauty  of  the  text  has  for  a  while  allured 
us,  and  we  hasten  to  answer  the  question.  How 
doth  Jesus  behave  himself  toward  his  people  in  the 
hour  of  their  distresses  ?  Does  he  leave  them  when 
their  friends  are  taken  from  them !  Does  he 
desert  them  in  the  hour  of  their  poverty  ?  Is  he 
ashamed  of  them  when  sackcloth  is  on  their 
loins,  and  ashes  upon  their  heads  ?  Do  the  pains 
of  Sickness  affright  him  from  the  bed  ?  Can  famine 
and  nakedness  separate  his  brethren  from  his 
love  ?  Is  he  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
for  ever?  Our  answer  shall  be  one  dictated  by 
the  experience  of  the  saints,  and  confirmed  in  the 
life  of  the  Christian  reader.  The  Lord  Jesus  is 
no  fcdr-ioeather  friend^  hut  one  loJio  loveth  at 
all  times — a  hrother  horn  for  adversitg.  This  lie 
proves  to  his  beloved,  not  by  mere  words  of  pro- 


328  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

mise,  but  by  actual  deeds  of  affection.  As  our 
sufferings  abound,  so  he  makes  our  consolations 
to  abound.  Tliis  he  does  by  divers  choice  acts 
of  love. 

1.  He  affords  the  tried  saint  clearer  manifesta- 
tions of  himself  than  usual.  When  he  draws  the 
curtain  around  the  believer  on  the  bed  of  sickness, 
he  usually  withdraws  the  curtain  wherewith  he 
conceals  himself.  He  apj^roaches  nearer  to  the 
soul  in  its  tribulation,  even  as  the  sun  is  said  to  be 
nearer  to  the  earth  in  the  time  of  winter.  He 
sheds  a  clear  light  on  his  promise  when  he  robes 
his  providence  in  darkness ;  and  if  both  are  alike 
clouded,  he  reveals  himself  the  more  manifestly. 
Affliction  has  often  proved  to  be  a  presence-cham- 
ber, in  which  the  King  of  Heaven  gives  audience 
to  his  unwortliy  subjects.  As  Isaac  met  his  bride 
in  the  fields  at  eventide,  so  do  true  souls  frequently 
find  their  joy  and  consolation  in  the  loneliness  of 
solitude,  and  at  the  sunset  of  their  earthly  plea- 
sures. He  who  would  see  the  stars  sparkling  with 
tenfold  lustre  must  dwell  in  the  cold  regions  of 
snow ;  and  he  who  would  know  the  full  beauties 
of  Jesus,  the  bright  and  morning  star,  must  see 
him  amid  the  frosts  of  trouble  and  adversity. 
Afiliction  is  often  the  hand  of  God,  which  he 
places  before  our  face  to  enable  us,  like  Moses,  to 
see  the  train  of  his  glory  as  he  passes  by.  The 
saint  has   had   many    a   pleasant   view   of  God's 


JESUS  IN  THE  HOUR  OF  TKOUBLE.        329 

loving  kindness  from  the  top  of  the  hills  of  mercy ; 
but  tribulation  is  very  frequently  the  Lord's 
Pisgah,  from  which  he  gives  them  a  view  of  the 
land  in  all  its  length  and  breadth. 

Mr.  Eenwick,  the  last  of  the  Scottish  martyrs, 
speaking  of  his  sufferings  for  conscience'  sake, 
says :  "  Enemies  think  themselves  satisfied  that  we 
are  put  to  wander  in  mosses,  and  npon  mountains  ; 
but  even  amidst  the  storms  of  tliese  last  two 
nights,  I  cannot  express  what  sweet  times  I  have 
had,  when  I  had.  no  covering  but  the  dark  curtains 
of  night.  Yea,  in  the  silent  watch,  my  mind  was 
led  out  to  admire  the  deep  and  inexpressible 
ocean  of  joy  wherein  the  whole  family  of  .heaven 
swim.  Each  star  led  me  to  wonder  what  He  must 
be  who  is  the  star  of  Jacob,  of  whom  all  stars 
borrow  their  shining." 

This  one  testimony  is  the  type  of  many;  it  is 
an  exhibition  of  the  great  rule  of  the  kingdom — 
"  When  thou  passest  through  the  rivers,  I  will  be 
with  thee." 

Choice  discoveries  of  the  wondrous  love  and 
grace  of  Jesus  are  most  tenderly  vouchsafed  unto 
believers  in  the  times  of  grief.  Then  it  is  that  he 
lifts  them  up  from  his  feet,  where,  like  Mary,  it  is 
their  delight  to  sit,  and  exalts  them  to  the  position 
of  the  favoured  John,  pressing  them  to  his  breast 
and  Nbiddino^  them  lean  on  his  bosom.     Then  it  is 


'JD 


that  he  doth  fill  the  cnp  of  salvation  with  the  old 


330  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

wine  of  the  kingdom,  and  puts  it  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Christian,  that  he  may  in  some  measure  forget 
the  flavour  of  wormwood  and  grating  of  gravel- 
stones  which  the  draught  of  bitterness  has  j)^aced 
upon  his  palate  and  between  his  teeth.  If  Christ 
is  more  excellent  at  one  time  than  another  it  cer- 
tainly is  in  "  the  cloudy  and  dark  day."  We  can 
never  so  well  see  the  true  colour  of  Christ's  love  as 
in  the  night  of  weeping.  Christ  in  the  dungeon, 
Christ  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  Christ  in  poverty,  is 
Christ  indeed  to  a  sanctified  man.  'No  vision  of 
Christ  Jesus  is  so  truly  a  revelation  as  that  which  is 
seen  in  the  Patmos  of  suffering.  As  in  time  of  war 
the  citj  doubles  its  guards,  so  does  Jesus  multiply 
the  displays  of  his  affection  when  his  chosen  are 
besieged  by  trials.  When  Habakuk's  belly  trem- 
bled, and  his  lips  quivered,  and  rottenness  entered 
into  his  bones,  when  all  his  earthly  hopes  were 
blasted,  and  his  comforts  removed,  he  had  such  an 
overcoming  sense  of  the  presence  of  God  that  he 
exclaimed  in  the  midst  of  all  his  sorrows,  "  Yet 
will  I  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  joy  in  the  God  of 
my  salvation."  Among  the  family  of  God  none 
are  so  well  versed  in  the  knowledge  of  Christ's 
love  as  those  who  have  been  long  in  the  chamber 
of  aflliction.  What  marvellous  things  have  these 
seen,  and  what  secrets  have  they  heard  ?  They 
have  kissed  the  lips  which  others  have  but  heard 
at  a  distance  ;  they  have  pressed  their  heads  upon 


JESUS    IN    THE    HOUK    OF   TKOUBLE.  331 

the  breast  wliicli  others  have  but  seen  with  their 
ejes ;  and  they  have  been  embraced  in  the  arms 
into  which  others  have  but  desired  to  climb.  Give 
ns  the  Christ  of  affliction,  for  he  is  Christ  indeed. 

2.  As  under  sanctified  affliction  the  manifesta- 
tions of  Christ  are  more  clear,  so  are  his  visitations 
more  frequent.  If  he  pay  us  a  daily  visit  when  we 
are  in  our  high  estate,  he  will  be  with  us  hourly 
when  we  are  cast  down  from  our  high  places.  As 
the  sick  child  hath  the  most  of  the  mother's  eye,  so 
doth  the  afflicted  believer  receive  the  most  of  his 
Saviour's  attention,  for  like  as  a  mother  comforteth 
her  children,  even  so  doth  the  Lord  comfort  his  peo- 
ple. Pious  Brooks  whites,  "  Oh,  the  love-tokens,  the 
love-letters,  the  bracelets,  the  jewels  that  the  saints 
are  able  to  produce  since  they  have  been  in  the  fur- 
nace of  affliction  !"  Of  these  they  had  but  one  in 
a  season  before,  but  now  that  their  troubles  have 
driven  them  nearer  to  their  Saviour,  they  have 
enoughi  to  store  their  cabinet.  J^ow  they  can  truly 
say,  "How  precious  also  are  thy  thoughts  unto 
me,  O  God!  how  great  is  the  sum  of  them!" 
Mercies  before  came  so  constantly  that  memory 
could  not  compute  their  number;  but  now  they 
appear  to  come  in  wave  after  wave,  without  a 
moment's  cessation.  Happy  is  the  man  who  finds 
the  furnace  as  hot  w^ith  love  as  with  affliction.  Let 
the  tried  believer  look  for  increased  privileges,  and 
his  faithful  Lord  will  not  deceive  his  expectations. 


332  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

He  wlio  rides  upon  tlie  storm  when  it  is  tossing 
the  ocean,  will  not  be  absent  when  it  is  beating 
about  his  saints.  '^  The  Lord  of  hosts  is  with  ns," 
is  not  the .  song  of  them  that  make  merry  in  the 
dance,  but  of  those  who  are  struggling  in  battle. 
'^  David,  doubtless,  had  worse  devils  than  we,  for 
without  great  tribulations  he  could  not  have  had 
so  great  and  glorious  revelations.  David  made 
psalms ;  "we  also  will  make  psalms,  and  sing,  as 
well  as  we  can,  to  the  honour  of  our  Lord  God, 
and  to  spite  and  mock  the  devil."  *  Surely,  it 
would  be  long  before  our  "  songs  of  deliverance  " 
would  end,  if  we  were  mindful  of  the  manifold 
tokens  for  good  which  our  glorious  Lord  vouch- 
safes us  in  the  hour  of  sadness.  How  doth  he 
waken  us  morning  by  morning  with  the  turtle" 
voice  of  love ;  and  how  doth  he  lull  us  to  our 
evening  repose  with  notes  of  kind  compassion  ! 
Each  hour  brings  favours  on  its  wings.  He  is  now 
become  an  abiding  companion,  that  while  we  tarry 
with  the  stuff  we  share  in  the  spoii.f  Oh,  sweet 
trouble,  which  brings  Jesus  nearer  to  us !  Afflic 
tion  is  the  black  chariot  of  Christ,  in  which  he 
rideth  to  his  children.  "Welcome,  shades  that 
herald  or  accompany  our  Lord ! 

3.  I7i  trying  times  the  comjmssion  and  sympathy 
of  Jesus  hecome  more  delightfuUy  the  siibject  of 

*  Luther,  in  his  Tahle-talk  f  1  Sara.  xxx.  24. 


JESUS    IN    THE    HOUR    OF   TROUBLE.  333 

faith  and  experience.  He  ever  feels  the  woes  of 
all  the  members  of  his  mystical  body ;  in  all  their 
afflictions  he  is  afflicted,  for  he  is  touched  with 
a  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  This  golden  truth 
becomes  most  precious  to  the  soul,  when,  in  the 
midst  of  losses  and  crosses,  by  the  Holy  Spirit's 
influence,  the  power  of  it  is  felt  in  the  soul.  A 
confident  belief  in  the  fact  that  Jesus  is  not  an 
unconcerned  spectator  of  our  tribulation,  and  a 
confident  assurance  that  he  is  in  the  furnace  witli 
us,  will  furnisb  a  downy  pillow  for  our  aching 
head.  When  the  hours  limj)  tardily  along,  how 
sweet  to  reflect  that  he  has  felt  the  weariness  of 
time  when  sorrows  multiplied  !  When  tlie  spirit 
is  wounded  by  reproach  and  slander,  how^  comfort- 
ing to  remember  that  he  also  once  said,  "Eeproacli 
has  broken  mine  heart  !'^  And,  above  all,  how 
abundantly  full  of  consolation  is  the  thought  that 
now,  even  now,  he  feels  for  us,  and  is  a  living 
head,  sympathising  in  every  pang  of  his  wounded 
body.  The  certainty  that  Jesus  knows  and  feels  all 
that  we  endure,  is  one  of  the  dainties  with  which 
afflicted  souls  are  comforted.  More  especially  is 
this  a  clieering  thought  when  our  good  is  evil 
spoken  of,  our  motives  misrepresented,  and  our  zeal 
condemned.  Then,  in  absence  of  all  other  balms, 
this  acts  as  a  sovereign  remedy  for  decay  of  spirit. 
Give  us  Christ  with,  us,  and  we  can  afford  to  smile 
in  the  face  of  our  foes. 


334  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

"As  to  appreciation  and  sympathy,  we  do  not 
depend  for  these  on  fellow- worms.  We  can  be 
content  to  be  nnappiieciated  here,  so  long  as  Christ 
nnderstands  us,  and  has  a  fellow-feeling  for  ns. 
It  is  for  him  we  labonr.  One  of  his  smiles  out- 
weighs all  other  commendation.  To  him  we  look 
for  our  reward ;  and  oh !  is  it  not  enough  that 
he  has  promised  it  at  his  coming  ?  It  will  not  be 
long  to  wait.  Do  our  hearts  crave  human  fellow- 
ship and  sympathy?  We  surely  have  it  in  our 
great  High  Priest.  Oh,  how  often  should  we  faint 
but  for  the  humanity  of  our  divine  Redeemer! 
He  is  bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of  our  flesh ;  yet 
he  has  an  almighty  arm  for  our  deliverance — 
human  to  feel,  divine  to  aid ;  faithful  over  all  our 
failures  and  imperfections.  What  need  we  more  ?"  * 
We  may  fancy  we  want  some  other  encourage- 
ment, but  if  we  know  the  value  of  the  sympathy  of 
Christ  we  shall  soon  find  it  all-sufficient.  We  shall 
think  Christ  alone  to  be  enough  to  make  a  list 
of  friends.  The  orator  spake  on  so  long  as  Plato 
listened,  thinking  one  wise  man  enough  audience 
for  him ;  let  us  labour  on,  and  ho23e  on,  if  Jesus  be 
our  only  helper.  Let  us,  in  all  time  of  our  tribula- 
tion and  afiliction,  content  ourselves  with  one  Com- 
forter, if  all  others  fail  us.  Job  had  three  mise- 
rable comforters  ;  better  far  to  have  one  who  is  full 

*  Tide  Shady  Side,  by  a  Pastor's  "Wife. 


JESUS  IN  THE  HOUR  OF  TROUBLE.      335 

of  pity  and  able  to  console.  And  who  can  do  this 
60  truly  as  our  own  most  loving  Lord  Jesus  ? 
Moreover,  it  is  not  only  true  that  he  can  do  it,  but 
he  actually  does  do  it,  and  that  in  no  small  degree, 
by  making  apparent  the  motions  of  his  own  heart. 
He  bids  us  see  his  breast,  as  it  heaves  in  unison 
with  ours,  and  he  invites  us  to  read  his  heart,  to  see 
if  the  same  lines  of  suffering  be  not  written  there. 

*'  I  feel  at  my  heart  all  thy  sighs  and  thy  groans, 
For  thou  art  most  near  me,  my  flesh  and  my  bones ; 
In  aU  thy  distresses  thy  Head  feels  the  pain, 
They  all  are  most  needful,  not  one  is  in  vain." 

Thus  doth  he  gently  assuage  the  floods  of  our  swell- 
ing grief. 

4.  The  Lord  Jesus  is  graeiously  jpleased  in  mctny 
cases  to  give  his  afflicted  saints  an  iimtsiial  insight 
into  the  deej)  things  of  his  word^  and  an  unwonted 
relish  in  meditation  ujpon  them.  Our  losses  fre- 
quently act  toward  us  as  if  they  had  cleared  our 
eyes ;  at  any  rate,  sickness  and  sorrow  have  often 
been  the  fingers  of  Jesus,  with  which  he  applied 
the  salve  of  illuminating  grace.  Either  the  under- 
standing is  more  than  ordinarily  enlarged,  or  else 
the  promises  are  more  simply  opened  up  and 
explained  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  Who  has  not 
observed  the  supernatural  wisdom  of  the  long 
afflicted  saint  ?  Who  has  not  known  the  fact  that 
the  school  of  sanctified  sorrow  is  that  in  which  are 
to  be  found  the  ripest  scholars  ? 


336  TflE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

We  learn  more  true  divinity  by  our  trials  than 
by  our  books.  The  great  Eeformer  said,  ''  Prayer 
is  the  best  book  in  my  library."  He  might  have 
added  affliction  as  the  next.  Sickness  is  the  best 
Doctor  of  Divinity  in  all  the  world ;  and  trial  is 
the  finest  exposition  of  Scripture.  This  is  so  inesti- 
mable a  mark  of  the  love  of  our  blessed  Lord  that 
we  might  almost  desire  trouble  for  the  sake  of  it. 
This  proves  him  to  be  wise  in  his  haj'dest  dealings 
towards  ns.  and  therefore  supremely  kind  ;  for  is  it 
not  kindness  which  puts  us  to  a,  little  trouble  for 
the  sake  of  an  immense  advantage,  and  doth,  as  it 
Avere,  take  our  money  out  of  our  coffers  at  home 
that  it  may  return  again  with  mighty  interest? 
Jesus  is  a  friend  indeed  ! 

5.  If  the  ^resenne  of  Jesus  he  7iot  felt  and 
realised,  he  neveHheless  sustains  the  soul  hy  a  secret 
and  unseen  energy  which  he  imparts  to  the  sjnrit. 
Jesus  is  not  always  absent  when  he  is  unseen  ;  but, 
on  the  contraiy,  he  is  frequently  near  to  us  when 
we  have  no  assurance  of  his  presence.  Many  times 
the  man  who  pours  oil  upon  the  flame  of  our  com- 
fort to  prevent  the  quenching  of  the  enemy,  is 
behind  the  wall,  where  we  cannot  perceive  him.* 
The  Lord  hath  a  heart  which  is  ever  full  of  affec- 
tion towards  his  elect,  and  when  he  seems  to  leave 
them  he  is  still  sustaining  them.  Patience  under 
withdrawals  of  his  sensible  presence  is  a  sure  sign 

*  See  Parable  in  Bunyau's  Pilgrim'' s  Progress. 


JKSU3  m  THE  HOUK  OF  TEOUBLE.      337 

of  his  real,  though  secret  presence,  in  the  soul.  A 
blind  man  is  really  nourished  bj  the  food  he  eats, 
even  though  he  cannot  see  it ;  so,  when,  bj  the 
blindness  of  our  spiritual  vision,  we  are  unable 
to  discern  the  Saviour,  yet  his  grace  sustains  our 
'strength  and  keeps  us  alive  in  famine.  The  intense 
desire  after  Jesus,  the  struggling  of  the  soul  with 
doubts  and  fears,  and  the  inward  panting  of  the 
whole  being  after  the  living  God,  prove  beyond 
a  doubt  that  Jesus  is  at  work  in  the  soul,  though 
he  may  be  concealed  from  the  eye  of  faith.  How 
should  it,  therefore,  be  a  matter  of  wonder  that 
secretly  he  should  be  able  to  afford  support  to  the 
sinking  saint,  even  at  seasons  when  his  absence 
is  bemoaned  with  lamentations  and  tears  ?  "  The 
real  gracious  influences  and  efiects  of  his  favour 
may  be  continued,  upholding,  strengthening,  and 
carrying  on  the  soul  still  to  obey  and  fear  God, 
whilst  he  yet  conceals  his  favour ;  for  when  Christ 
complained.  My  God^  my  God^  lohy  hast  thou  for- 
salcen  me  f  (when  as  great  an  eclipse  in  regard  of 
the  light  of  God's  countenance  was  upon  his  spirit, 
as  was  upon  the  earth  in  regard  to  the  sun)  yet  he 
never  more  obeyed  God,  was  never  more  strongly 
supported  than  at  that  time,  for  then  he  was  obey- 
ing to  the  deailiP  ''^  God's  favour  most  assuredly 
rests  on  his  children's  hearts  and  strengthens  their 

*  Goodwin's  Child  of  Light ^  &c. 

15 


338  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

spirits,  when  the  light  and  comfort  of  it  are  shut 
out  from  their  perceptions.  Christ  puts  his  chil- 
dren upon  his  lap,  and  healeth  their  wounds  when, 
by  reason  of  their  swooning  condition,  they  feel  not 
his  hand,  and  see  not  his  smile.  It  is  said,  "  All  is 
not  gold  that  glitters  ;'■  certainly,  we  may  alter  the 
proverb,  for  it  is  true  spiritually  that  all  gold  does 
not  glitter ;  but  this  dimness  does  not  affect  its 
intrinsic  worth  and  value. 

The  old  theologians  used  to  say,  "  Grace  may  be 
in  the  heart  in  esse  et  ojperari^  when  not  in  cognosci  f 
it  may  have  a  being  and  a  working  there  when  not 
in  thy  apprehension."  Let  us  praise  our  bounteous 
Lord  for  unseen  favours,  and  let  us  love  our  Lord 
Jesus  for  his  mercies  imparted  in  silence,  unob- 
served. 

6.  After  long  seasons  of  depressio7i  Jesus  'becomes 
sweetly  the  consolation  of  Israel  hj  removing  our 
load  in  a  manner  at  once  singularly  felicitous  and 
marvellously  efficacious.  It  may  be  that  the  nature 
or  design  of  the  trial  prevents  us  from  enjoying 
any  comfortable  sense  of  our  Lord's  love  during 
the  time  of  its  endurance  ;  in  such  cases  the  grace 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  discovers  itself  in  the  hour  of 
our  escape.  If  we  do  not  see  our  Lord  in  the  pri- 
son j  we  shall  meet  him  on  the  threshold  in  that 
day  which  shall  see  him  break  the  gates  of  brass 
and  cut  the  bars  of  iron  in  sunder.  Marvellous 
are  his  works  in  the  clay  wherein  he  brings  us  out 


JESUS  IN  THE  HOUK  OF  TROUBLE.      339 

of  the  house  of  bondage.  Ilaljburton,  after  escape 
from  a  clonld  and  desertion,  thus  broke  silence  to 
a  friend — "  Oh,  what  a  terrible  conflict  had  I  yes- 
terday !  bnt  now  I  can  say  '  I  have  fonght  the 
good  light ;  I  have  kept  the  faith.'  'Now  he  has 
filled  my  month  with  a  new  song,  '  Jehovali  Jireh 
— in  the  mount  of  the  Lord.'  Praise,  praise  is 
comely  to  the  upright.  Shortly  I  shall  get  a  bet- 
ter sight  of  God  than  ever  I  have  had,  and  be 
more  meet  to  praise  him  than  ever.  Oh,  the 
thoughts  of  an  incarnate  God  are  sweet  and 
ravishing  !  And  oh,  how  do  I  w^onder  at  myself 
that  I  do  not  love  him  more — that  I  do  not  admire 
him  more.  Oh,  that  I  could  honour  him  !  What 
a  wonder  that  I  enjoy  such  composure  under  all 
my  bodily  troubles !  Oh,  what  a  mercy  that  I 
have  the  use  of  my  reason  till  I  have  declared  his 
goodness  to  me  !"  Thus  it  seems  that  the  sun  is 
all  the  brighter  for  having  been  awhile  hidden 
from  us.  And  here  the  reader  must  pardon  the 
writer  if  he  introduces  a  personal  narrative,  which 
is  to  him  a  most  memorable  proof  of  the  loving- 
kindness  of  the  Lord.  Such  an  opportunity  of 
recording  my  Lord's  goodness  may  never  occur 
again  to  me  ;  and  therefore  now,  while  my  soul  is 
warm  with  gratitude  for  so  recent  a  deliverance, 
let  me  lay  aside  the  language  of  an  author,  and 
speak  for  myself,  as  I  should  tell  the  story  to  my 
friends   in    conversation.     It   may  be   egotism    to 


310  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

weave  one's  own  sorrows  into  the  warp  and  woof 
of  this  meditation  ;  but  if  the  heart  prompts  the 
act,  and  the  motions  of  the  Holy  Spirit  are  not 
contrary  thereto,  I  think  I  may  venture  for  this 
once  to  raise  an  Ebenezer  in  public,  and  rehearse 
the  praise  of  Jesus  at  the  setting  up  thereof.  Egot- 
ism is  not  so  frightful  a  thing  as  ungrateful  silence ; 
certainly  it  is  not  more  contemptible  than  mock 
humility.  Eight  or  wrong,  here  folio weth  my 
story. 

On  a  night  which  time  will  never  erase  from 
my  memory,  large  numbers  of  my  congregation 
were  scattered,  many  of  them  wounded  and  some 
killed,  by  the  malicious  act  of  wicked  men.  Strong 
amid  danger,  I  battled  the  storm,  nor  did  my  spirit 
yield  to  the  overwhelming  pressure  while  my 
courage  could  reassure  the  wavering  or  confirm 
the  bold.  But  when,  like  a  whirlwind,  the  destruc- 
tion had  overpast,  when  the  whole  of  its  devasta- 
tion was  visible  to  my  eye,  who  can  conceive  the 
anguish  of  my  spirit  ?  I  refused  to  be  comforted, 
tears  were  my  meat  by  day,  and  dreams  my  terror 
by  night.  1  felt  as  I  had  never  felt  before.  "  My 
thoughts  were  all  a  case  of  knives,"  cutting  my 
heart  in  pieces,  until  a  kind  of  stupor  of  grief 
ministered  a  mournful  medicine  to  me.  I  could 
have  truly  said,  "  I  am  not  mad,  but  surely  I  have 
had  enough  to  madden  me,  if  I  should  indulge  in 
meditation  on  it."     I  sought  and  found  a  solitude 


JESUS    IN    THE    HOUR    OF    TROUBLE.  341 

which  seemed  congenial  to  me.  I  could  tell  my 
griefs  to  the  flowers,  and  the  dews  could  weep 
with  me.  Here  my  mind  lay,  like  a  wreck  upon 
the  ^and,  incapable  of  its  usual  motion.  I  was  in 
a  strange  land,  and  a  stranger  in  it.  My  Bible, 
once  my  daily  food,  was  but  a  hand  to  lift  the 
sluices  of  my  woe.  Prayer  yielded  no  balm  to  me  ; 
in  fact,  my  soul  was  like  an  infant's  soul,  and  I 
could  not  rise  to  the  dignity  of  supplicatio]i. 
"  Broken  in  pieces  all  asunder,"  my  thoughts, 
which  had  been  to  me  like  a  cup  of  delights,  were 
like  pieces  of  broken  glass,  the  piercing  and  cut- 
ting miseries  of  my  pilgrimage  : — 

"  The  tumult  of  my  thoughts 

Doth  but  enlarge  my  woe  ; 
My  spirit  languishes,  my  heart 

Is  desolate  and  low. 
With  every  morning  light 

My  sorrow  new  begins  : 
Look  on  my  anguish  and  my  pain, 

And  pardon  all  my  sins." 

Then  came  "  the  slander  of  many  " — barefaced 
fabrications,  libellous  slanders,  and  barbarous  accu- 
sations. These  alone  might  have  scooped  out  the 
last  drop  of  consolation  from  my  cup  of  happiness, 
but  the  v\^orst  had  come  to  the  worst,  and  the 
utmost  malice  of  the  enemy  could  do  no  more. 
Lower  they  cannot  sink  who  are  already  in  the 
nethermost  depths.     Misery  itself  is  the  guardian 


34:2  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

of  the  miserable.  All  tilings  combined  to  keep  me 
for  a  season  in  tlie  darkness  wliere  neither  sun  nor 
moon  appeared.  I  had  hoped  for  a  gradual  return 
to  peaceful  consciousness,  and  patiently  did  I  wait 
for  the  dawning  light.  But  it  came  not  as  I  had 
desired,  for  He  who  doeth  for  us  exceeding  abun- 
dantly above  what  we  can  ask  or  think,  sent  me  a 
happier  answer  to  my  requests.  I  had  striven  to 
think  of  the  unmeasurable  love  of  Jehovah,  as  dis- 
j^layed  in  the  sacrifice  of  Calvary  ;  I  had  endea- 
voured to  muse  upon  the  gloi'ious  character  of  the 
exalted  Jesus  ;  but  I  found  it  impossible  to  collect 
my  thoughts  in  the  quiver  of  meditation,  or,  indeed, 
to  place  them  anywhere  but  with  their  points  in 
my  wounded  spirit,  or  else  at  my  feet,  trodden 
down  in  an  almost  childish  thoughtlessness.  On  a 
sudden,  like  a  flash  of  lightning  from  the  sky,  my 
soul  returned  unto  me.  The  burning  lava  of  my 
brain  cooled  in  an  instant.  The  throbbings  of  my 
brow  were  still ;  the  cool  wind  of  comfort  fanned 
my  cheek,  which  had  been  scorched  in  the  fur- 
nace. I  was  free,  the  iron  fetter  was  broken  in 
pieces,  my  prison  door  was  open,  I  leaped  for  joy 
of  heart.  On  wings  of  a  dove  my  spirit  mounted 
to  the  stars — yea,  beyond  them.  Whither  did  it 
wing  its  flight?  and  where  did  it  sing  its  song  of 
gratitude  ?  It  was  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  whose 
name  had  charmed  its  fears,  and  placed  an  end  to 
its  mourning.     The  name — the  precious  name  of 


JESUS    IN    THE    HOUR    OF    TROUBLE.  343 

Jesus,  was  like  Itlinriel's  spear,  bringing  back  my 
sonl  to  its  own  right  and  liaj)py  state.  I  was  a 
man  again,  and  what  is  more,  a  believer.  The 
garden  in  which  I  stood  became  an  Eden  to  me, 
and  the  spot  was  then  most  solemnly  consecrated 
in  my  most  grateful  memor3^  Happy  liour. 
Thrice  blessed  Lord,  who  thus  in  an  instant  deliv- 
ered me  from  the  rock  of  my  despair,  and  slew  the 
vulture  of  my  grief!  Before  I  told  to  others  the 
glad  news  of  my  recovery,  my  heart  was  melodious 
witli  song,  and  my  tongue  endeavoured  tardily  to 
express  the  music.  Then  did  I  give  to  my  Well- 
Beloved  a  song  touching  my  AVell- Beloved  ;  and 
oh !  with  what  rapture  did  my  soul  flash  forth  its 
praises !  but  all — all  were  to  the  honour  of  Him, 
the  first  and  the  last, -the  Brother  born  for  adver- 
sity, tlie  Deliverer  of  the  captive,  the  Breaker  of 
my  fetters,  the  Restorer  of  my  souk  Then  did  I 
cast  my  burden  upon  the  Lord ;  I  left  ray  ashes 
and  did  array  myself  in  the  garments  of  praise, 
while  He  did  anoint  me  with  fresh  oil.  I  could 
have  riven  the  very  firmament  to  get  at  Him,  to 
cast  myself  at  his  feet,  and  lie  there  bathed  in  the 
tears  of  joy  and  love.  ^N'ever  since  the  day  of  my 
conversion  had  I  known  so  much  of  his  infinite 
excellence,  never  had  my  spirit  leaped  with  such 
unutterable  delight.  Scorn,  tumult,  and  woe 
seemed  less  than  nothing  for  his  sake.  I  girded 
up  my  loins  to  run  before  his  chariot,  and  shout 


344  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

forth  his  glory,  for  my  soul  was  absorbed  in  the 
one  idea  of  his  glorious  exaltation  and  divine  com- 
23assion. 

After  a  declaration  of  the  exceeding  grace  of 
God  towards  me,  made  to  my  dearest  kindred  and 
friends,  I  essayed  again  to  preach.  The  task  which 
I  had  dreaded  to  perform  was  another  means  of 
comfort,  and  I  can  truly  declare  that  the  words  of 
that  morning  were  as  much  the  utterance  of  my 
inner  man  as  if  I  had  been  standing  before  the  bar 
of  God.  The  text  selected  runs  thus — *'  Wherefore 
God  also  hath  highly  exalted  Him,  and  given  him 
a  name  which  is  above  every  name :  that  at  the 
name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  of  tilings  in 
heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and  things  under  the 
earth ;  and  that  every  tongue  should  confess  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the 
Father."  *  May  I  trouble  the  reader  with  some  of 
the  utterances  of  the  morning,  for  they  were  the 
unveilings  of  my  ovv'n  experience. 

When  the  mind  is  intensely  set  upon  one  object, 
however  much  it  may  by  divers  calamities  be 
tossed  to  and  fro,  it  invariably  returns  to  the  place 
which  it  had  chosen  to  be  its  dwelling  place.  Ye 
have  noticed  it  in  the  case  of  David.  When  the 
battle  had  been  won  by  his  warriors,  they  returned 
flushed  with  victory.     David's  mind  had  doubtless 

*  Phil.  ii.  9—11. 


JESUS  IN  THE  HOUR  OF  TROUBLE.      345 

suffered  mucli  perturbation  in  the  meantime  ;  lie 
had  dreaded  alike  the  effects  of  victory  and  of  de- 
feat ;  but  have  you  not  noticed  how  his  thouglits  in 
one  moment  returned  to  the  darling  object  of  his 
affections  ?  "  Is  the  young  man  Absalom  safe  ?" 
said  he,  as  if  it  mattered  not  what  else  had  oc- 
curred, if  his  beloved  son  were  but  secure !  So, 
beloved,  is  it  with  the  Christian.  In  the  midst  of 
calamities,  whether  tliey  be  the  wreck  of  nations, 
the  crash  of  empires,  the  heaving  of  revolutions, 
or  the  scourge  of  war,  the  great  question  which  he 
asks  himself,  and  asks  of  others  too,  is  this — "  Is 
Christ's  kingdom  safe  ?"  In  his  own  personal 
afflictions  his  chief  anxiety  is — Will  God  be  glori- 
fied, and  will  his  honour  be  increased  by  it  ?  If  it 
be  so,  says  he,  although  I  be  but  as  smoking  flax, 
yet  if  the  sun  is  not  dimmed  I  will  rejoice ;  and 
though  I  be  a  bruised  reed,  if  the  pillars  of  the 
temple  are  unbroken,  what  matters  it  that  my  reed 
is  bruised?  He  finds  it  sufiicient  consolation,  in 
the  midst  of  all  the  breaking  in  pieces  which  he 
endures,  to  think  that  Christ's  throne  stands  fast 
and  firm,  and  that  though  the  earth  hath  rocked 
beneath  his  feet,  yet  Christ  standeth  on  a  rock 
which  never  can  be  moved.  Some  of  these  feel- 
ings, I  think,  have  crossed  our  minds.  Amidst 
much  tumult  and  divers  rushins:  to  and  fro  of 
troublous  thoughts,  our  souls  have  returned  to  the 
dearest  object  of  our  desires,  and  we  have  found  it 
15" 


346  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

no  small  consolation,  after  all,  to  saj,  "  It  matters 
not  what  sliall  become  of  ns ;  God  hath  highlj  ex- 
alted A^m,  and  given  Mm  a  name  which  is  above 
every  name ;  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee 
should  bow." 

Thus  is  the  thought  of  the  love  of  Jesus  in  his 
delivering  grace  most  indelibly  impressed  upon  my 
memory  ;  and  the  fact  that  this  experience  is  to  me 
the  most  memorable  crisis  of  my  life,  must  be  my 
apology  for  narrating  it — an  apology  which  I  trust 
the  indulgent  reader  will  acce^^t. 

T.  Although  it  may  be  thought  that  we  have 
reached  the  legitimate  boundary  of  our  subject,  we 
cannot  refrain  from  adding,  that  Jesus  renders  hirrb- 
self  ]jeciiliarly  precious  hj  the  gracious  manner  in 
which^  in  hestowing  an  amazing  increase  of  joy  ^  he 
entirely  obliterates  every  scar  which  the  sword  of 
adversity  7nay  have  left  in  our  flesh.  As  the  joy 
that  a  man  child  is  born  into  the  world  is  said  to 
destroy  tlie  remembrance  of  the  previous  travail 
of  the  mother,  so  the  giorious  manifestations  of  the 
Lord  do  wipe  out  all  the  bitter  memories  of  the 
trials  of  the  past.  After  the  showers  have  fallen 
from  the  dark  and  lowering  skies,  how  j)leasant  is 
the  breath  of  nature.  How  delightfully  the  sun 
peers  through  the  thick  trees,  transforming  all  the 
rain-drops  to  sparkling  gems ;  and  even  so,  after  a 
shower  of  troubles,  it  is  marvellous  to  feel  the 
divine  refreshings  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  right  speed- 


JESUS    IN    THE    noun    OF    TR0UT3LE.  3:1-7 

ily  transforming  every  tear  into  a  jewel  of  deliglit, 
and  satisfying  the  soul  with  balmy  p^ace.  The 
soul's  calm  is  deep  and  profound  when  thQ  tem- 
pest has  fully  spent  itself,  for  the  same  Jesus  who 
in  the  storm  said,  "  It  is  1,"  will  comfort  his  people^ 
with  royal  dainties  when  the  winds  have  been 
hushed  to  slumber.  At  the  heels  of  our  sorrov\^s 
we  find  our  joys.  Great  ebbs  are  succeeded  by 
great  floods,  and  sharp  winters  are  followed  by 
bright  summers.  This  is  the  sweet  fruit  of  Christ's 
love, — he  will  not  have  his  brethren  so  much  as 
remember  their  sorrows  with  regret ;  he  so  works 
in  them  and  towards  them  that  their  light  afflic- 
tion is  forgotten  in  happy  contemplation  upon  his 
eternal  weight  of  glory.  Happy  is  that  unhappi- 
ness  which  brings  with  it  such  surpassing  privi- 
leges, and  more  than  excellent  the  grace  which 
makes  it  so.  We  need  a  poet  to  sing  the  sweet 
uses  of  adversity.  An  ancient  writer,  whose  words 
we  are  about  to  quote,  has  unconsciously  produced 
a  sonnet  in  prose  upon  this  subject : — 

"  Stars  shine  brightest  in  the"  darkest  night ; 
torches  are  better  for  the  beating ;  grajyes  come  not 
to  the  proof  till  they  come  to  the  press ;  slices 
smell  sweetest  when  ponnded;  young  trees  root  the 
faster  for  shaking ;  mnes  are  the  better  for  bleed- 
ing; gold  looks  the  brighter  for  scouring;  glow- 
worms glisten  best  in  the  dark;  juniiKr  smells 
sweetest  in  the  fire ;  pomander  becomes  most  fra- 


348  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

grant  from  cliafing ;  the  palm-tree  proves  tlie  better 
for  pressing ;  camomile  the  more  joii  tread  it  the 
more  yon  spread  it :  such  is  the  condition  of  all 
God's  children,  thej  are  most  triumphant  when 
they  are  most  tempted ;  most  glorious  when  most 
afflicted ;  most  in  the  favour  of  God  when  least  in 
man's  esteem.  As  their  conflicts,  so  their  con- 
quests ;  as  their  tribulations,  so  their  triumphs. 
True  salamanders,  they  live  best  in  the  farnace  of 
persecution ;  so  that  heavy  afflictions  are  the  best 
benefactors  to  heavenly  affections.  Where  afflic- 
tions hang  heaviest,  corruptions  hang  loosest ;  and 
grace  that  is  hid  in  nature,  as  sweet  water  in  rose 
leaves,  is  most  fragrant  when  the  fire  of  affliction 
is  put  under  to  distil  it  out,"  '^ 

Let  each  reader  inquire  whether  this  is  in  har- 
mony with  his  experience,  and  if  it  be  so,  let  him 
testify  to  his  tried  brethren  that  be  has  tasted  and 
handled  of  the  goodness  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  has 
found  him  full  of  grace  to  help,  and  power  to  com- 
fort. Open  thy  mouth  as  wide  in  praise  as  thou 
didst  in  prayer,  and  let  thy  gratitude  be  as  lasting 
as  his  love. 

But  if  the  reader  cannot  bear  witness  to  the 
faithfulness  of  the  Lord  in  the  day  of  adversity,  let 
him  tremble.  If  his  religion  has  forsaken  him  in 
his  distress,  let  liim  at  once  doubt  its  character. 

*  Samuel  Clerk,  preface  to  Martyr ology. 


JESUS    IN    THE    UOUR    OF   TKOUBLE.  34:9 

That  IS  not  from  heaven  which  cannot  endure  the 
fire.  If  the  promises  afford  thee  no  comfort  in  thy 
trials,  if  thj  faith  doth  utterly  fail,  and  thoii  findest 
thy  profession  tottering  about  thine  ears,  look  well 
to  thyself  that  thou  be  not  deceived.  We  dare  not 
say  that  there  is  no  grace  in  the  man  wlio  finds  no 
comfort  in  tlie  Lord  in  the  day  of  evil,  but  we  do 
say,  with  much  earnestness,  there  is  very  grave 
cause  for  suspicion.  The  following  sentences  from 
the  pen  of  William  Gurnall  deserve  much  ponder- 
ing ;  they  will  raise  a  vital  question  in  the  mind 
of  those  who  have  never  felt  the  sweetness  of  the 
promises  in  the  hour  of  need : — "  Promises  are  like 
the  clothes  we  wear.  If  there  be  heat  in  the  body 
to  warm  them,  they  warm  us,  but  if  there  be  none, 
they  give  none.  So  where  there  is  living  faith,  the 
promise  will  afford  warm  comfort ;  but  on  a  dead, 
unbelieving  heart,  it  lies  cold  and  ineffectual :  it 
has  no  more  effect  than  pouring  a  cordial  down  the 
throat  of  a  corpse.  Again,  the  promises  do  not 
throw  out  comfort  as  fire  throws  out  heat ;  for  then 
we  should  only  need  to  go  to  them  in  order  to  be 
warmed:  their  heat  is  like  the  fire  in  the  flint, 
which  must  be  struck  out  by  force,  and  this  force 
can  only  be  applied  by  faith."  * 

There  is  another  explanation  of  the  fact  that  a 
professor  in  trial  sometimes  finds  no  comfort  in  the 

*  Christian  Armour. 


350  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOIJK. 

promises ;  and  as  it  is  a  little  more  lenient,  we  add 
it  here,  and  desire  all  snch  persons  to  jndge  for 
themselves.  It  may  be  that  thou  hast  neglected 
communion,  and  therefore  thy  troubles  weigh 
heavily.  When  a  bucket  is  let  down  into  a  deep 
well,  and  is  nnder  the  water,  it  is  easily  womid  up, 
and  seems  to  be  light,  bnt  when  once  it  is  drav/n 
out  of  the  water  its  weight  becomes  excessive :  it 
is  so  with  our  sorrows — as  long  as  we  keep  them 
submerged  in  God  and  fellowship  they  are  light 
enough ;  but  once  consider  them  apart  from  the 
Lord,  and  they  become  a  grievous  and  intolerable 
burden.  Faith  will  have  to  tug  in  earnest  to  lift 
our  adversities  when  we  stand  alone  without  our 
Lord ;  want  of  communion  will  rob  the  promises 
of  their  comfort,  and  load  our  griefs  with  weights 
of  iron. 

It  seems,  then,  that  thou  hast  one  of  two  faults 
to  find  with  thyself, — either  thou  art  dead,  and  so 
unable  to  feel  the  heat  and  comfort  of  the  Lord's 
presence ;  or  else  thou  hast  been  inactive,  not  improv- 
ino'  the  means  wherebv  the  fellowship  of  the  Mas- 
ter  may  be  realised.  Search  thine  heart  and  know 
the  reason.  "  Are  the  consolations  of  God  small 
with  thee  ?  Is  there  any  secret  thing  with  thee  ?"  ^ 
Look  to  thyself,  for  it  may  be  thy  soul  is  in  an  evil 
plight,  and  if  so,  be  sm*e  to  give  good  heed  unto  it, 

*  Job,  XV.  11. 


JESUS    IN    THE    HOUR    OF    TROUBLE.  351 

Go  to  tlie  Lord  at  once,  and  ask  a  fresh  supply  of 
life  and  grace.  Do  not  seek  to  mimic  tlie  joy  of 
believers,  but  strive  for  tlie  reality  of  it.  Rely  not 
on  thine  own  power.  Trim  thy  lamp  with  hea- 
venly oil.  If  the  fire  of  the  Roman  vestals  were 
ever  extinguished,  they  dare  not  light  it  except  at 
the  sun ;  be  sure  that  thou  do  not  kindle  a  flame  in 
thy  heart  with  strange  fire.  Get  renewal  where 
thou  didst  get  conversion,  but  be  sure  to  get  it,  and 
at  once.     May  the  Holy  Spirit  help  thee. 


TO  THE  UNCONYEETED  KEADER. 


Poor  sinner,  how  great  a  difference  is  there 
between  thee  and  the  believer  !  and  how  apparent 
is  this  difference  when  in  trouble !  You  have 
trials,  but  you  have  no  God  to  flee  to  ;  your  afflic- 
tions are  frequently  of  the  sharpest  kind,  but  you 
have  no  promises  to  blunt  their  edge;  you  are 
in  the  furnace,  but  you  are  without  that  divine 
companion  who  can  prevent  the  fire  from  hurting 
you.  To  the  child  of  God  adversity  brings  many 
blessings — to  you  it  is  em23ty -handed ;  to  him  there 
ariseth  light  in  the  darkness— to  you  there  is  the 
darkness  but  no  arising  of  the  light ;  you  have  all 
its  miseries,  but  none  of  its  benefits.  How  dreary 
must  your  heart  feel  when  lover  and  friend  are  put 
far  from  you,  when  3^our  hopes  are  withered,  and 
your  joys  are  removed  !  You  have  no  Christ  to 
cheer  you;  he  is  not  the  recompence  of  your  grief; 
he  is  not  Jehovah  Jireh  to  you.  You  have  no 
Almighty  arms  beneath  you,  no  Eternal  God  to  be 


852 


JESUS    IN   THE   HOUR    OF   TROUBLE.  353 

Tour  refuge,  no  Anointed  One  to  be  your  shield. 
Yon  must  bear  your  sorrows  alone,  or,  if  anj^ 
attempt  to  help  you,  their  strength  is  incompetent 
for  the  task. 

Oh,  wretched  man  !  for  ever  enduring  the  thorn, 
but  never  reaching  the  throne ;  in  the  floods,  but 
not  washed  ;  burning  in  the  fire,  but  not  refined  ; 
brayed  in  the  mortar,  but  not  cleansed  of  foolish- 
ness ;  snfi'ering,  but  unsanctified.  What  misery  to 
have  no  foundation  in  the  day  of  the  tempest,  no 
covert  from  the  wind,  no  shelter  from  the  storm ! 
The  saint  can  bear  a  world  of  trouble  when  the 
strength  of  Israel  doth  brace  him  with  omnipo- 
tence ;  but  thou,  without  the  support  of  the  Most 
nigh,  art  crushed  before  the  moth,  and  over- 
whelmed when  evil  getteth  hold  upon  thee.  Thy 
present  trials  are  too  heavy  for  thee ;  what  wilt 
thou  do  in  the  swellings  of  Jordan  ?  In  the  day 
when  the  drops  shall  have  become  a  torrent,  and 
the  small  rain  of  tribulation  has  given  place  to  the 
waterspouts  of  vengeance,  how  wilt  thou  endure 
the  unutterable  wrath  of  the  Lamb  ? 

Lay  this  to  thy  heart,  and  may  the  Lord  enable 
thee  to  cast  the  burden  of  thy  sin  upon  the  crucified 
Saviour  ;  then  shalt  thou  have  boldness  to  cast  thy 
griefs  there  also. 


X. 

JESUS   HIDIXa  HIMSELF. 


Thou  didst  hide  thy  face,  and  I  was  troubled." — Ps.  xxx.  Y. 


"  Why  dost  thou  shade  thy  lonely  face?  oh,  why 
Doth  that  echpsing  hand  so  long  deny 
The  sunshine  of  thy  soul-enlivening  eye  ? 

"  Without  that  light,  vrhat  light  remains  in  me  ? 
Thou  art  my  life,  my  way,  my  light ;  in  thee 
I  hve,  I  move,  and  by  thy  beams  I  see. 

"  Thou  art  my  life  ;  if  thou  but  turn  away, 
My  life's  a  thousand  deaths :  thou  art  my  way ; 
Without  thee.  Lord,  I  travel  not,  but  stray. 

*'  My  light  thou  art ;  without  thy  glorious  sight, 
Mine  eyes  are  darken' d  with  perpetual  night. 
My  God,  thou  art  my  way,  my  life,  my  light." 

QUARLES. 

The  Lord  Jesus  will  never  remove  his  love  from 
any  one  of  the  objects  of  his  choice.  The  names 
of  his  redeemed  are  written  on  his  hands  and 
graven  on  his  side  ;  they  are  designed  for  eternal 

S64 


JESUS    HIDING    HIMSELF.  355 

felicity,  and  to  that  blessed  consummation  his 
hand  and  his  heart  are  unitedly  resolved  to  bring 
them.  The  meanest  lamb  of  the  blood-bougcht 
flock  shall  be  presQi'ved  securely  by  the  "  strength 
of  Israel"  unto  the  day  of  his  appearing,  and  shall, 
through  every  season  of  tribulation  and  distress, 
continue  to  be  beloved  of  the  Lord.  Yet  this  does 
not  prevent  the  great  Shepherd  from  hiding  him- 
self for  a  season,  v\dien  his  people  are  rebellious. 
Though  the  Eedeemer's  grace  shall  never  be  utterly 
removed,  yet  there  shall  be  partial  withdrawals 
oi^Y^ jpresenoe^  whereby  our  joys  shall  be  dimmed, 
and  our  evidences  darkened.  He  will  sometimes 
say,  "I  will  go  and  return  unto  my  place,  nntil 
they  acknowdedge  their  offences  w^hich  they  have 
committed  against' me;"  and  at  other  seasons,  for  a 
trial  of  their  faith,  he  will  "  for  a  small  moment " 
hide  himself  from  them. 

In  j)roportion  as  the  Master's  presence  is  delight- 
ful, his  absence  is  mournful.  Dark  is  the  night 
which  is  caused  by  the  setting  of  such  a  sun.  l^o 
blow  of  Providence  can  ever  w^ound  so  sorely  as 
this.  A  blasted  crop  is  as  nothing  compared  with 
an  absent  Redeemer  ;  yea,  sickness  and  the 
approach  of  death  are  preferable  to  the  departure 
of  Emmanuel.  Skin  for  skin,  yea,  all  that  a  man 
hath  will  he  give  for  his  life  ;  and  more  than  that 
Avould  the  sincere  disciple  be  prepared  to  surrender 
'for  a  renewal  of  his  Lord's  presence.     "  Oh,  that  T 


356  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

were  as  in  montlis  past,  as  in  tlie  days  when  God 
preserved  me  ;  when  his  candle  shined  upon  my 
head,  and  when  by  his  light  I  walked  through 
darkness  !"  Such  w^ill  be  the  sorrowful  complaint 
of  the  spirit  when  groping  its  way  through  the 
darkness  of  desertion.  "  God's  hiding  himself, 
though  but  for  trial's  sake,  will  so  trouble  a 
Christian  that  he  will  quickl}^  be  a  burden  to 
himself,  and  fear  round  about,  as  it  is  said  of 
Pashur.*  It  will  make  him  weary  of  the  night, 
and  weary  of  the  day ;  weary  of  his  own  house, 
and  weary  of  God's  house ;  weary  of  mirth,  and 
account  it  madness  ;  weary  of  riches  and  honours  ; 
yea,  if  it  continue  long,  it  will  make  him  weary  of 
life  itself,  and  wish  for  death."  f  The  effect  is 
always  deplorable  during  the  time  of  its  duration, 
but  the  cause  of  it  is  not  always  the  same.  There 
are  divers  reasons  for  apparent  desertions ;  w^e  Vv'ill 
enter  upon  that  interesting  subject  in  the  next 
chapter,  and  in  the  present  meditation  we  shall 
chiefly  consider  the  ill  effects  of  the  absence  of 
Christ. 

"We  would  carefully  distinguish  between  those 
withdrawals  which  are  evidences  of'  an  offence 
given  to  our  Lord,  and  those  which  are  designed 
to  be  trials  of  our  faith.  Our  experience  nnder 
different  varieties  of  forsakings  will  vary,  and  the 

*  Jer.  XX.  3. 

f  Lockyer  on  Chrisfs  Communion. 


JESUS    HIDING    HIMSELF.  367 

following  remarks,  althongli  in  tlie  main  applicable 
to  all  desertions,  are  only  intended  in  their  detail  to 
refer  to  tliose  wliicli  are  brought  about  by  our  trans- 
gressions ;  and  even  then  it  is  not  to  be  imagined 
that  each  case  will  exhibit  every  point  w^hich  we 
shall  now  observe.  Here  we  S2:)ecially  refer  to 
tliose  hidings  of  God's  countenance  which  are 
brought  upon  us  as  a  fatherly  chastisement.  And 
we  do  not  here  dwell  upon  the  ultimate  and 
blessed  effects  of  the  temporary  forsakings  of  God, 
but  are  only  to  be  understood  to  refer  to  the  ills 
which,  during  the  time,  beset  the  soul. 

Holy  men  may  be  left  to  walk  in  darkness. 
*'  Sometimes  Christians  are  guilty  of  acting  a  part 
which  is  offensive  to  their  dear  Saviour,  and  there- 
fore he  withdraws  from  them.  Darkness  spreads 
itself  over  them,  thick  clouds  interpose  between  him 
and  their  souls,  and  they  see  not  his  smiling  face. 
This  was  the  case  with  the  Church  when  she  was 
inclined  unto  carnal  ease,  rather  than  to  rise  and 
give  her  beloved  entrance.  He  quickened  her 
desires  after  the  enjoyment  of  his  company,  by  an 
effectual  touch  upon  her  heart;  but  he  withdrew, 
departed,  and  left  her  to  bew^ail  her  folly  in  her 
sinful  neglect.  Upon  this  her  bowels  were  trou- 
bled :  she  arose  and  sought  him ;  but  she  found 
him  not.  It  is  just  with  him  to  hide  himself  from 
us,  if  we  are  indifferent  about  the  enjoyments  of 
his  delightful  presence,  and  give  us  occasion  to 


358  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

confess  our  ingratitude  to  Lim,  by  the  loss  we  sus- 
tain in  consequence  of  it.  His  love  iyi  itself  passes 
under  no  vicissitude  ;  it  is  always  tlie  same  ;  tliat 
is  our  security ;  but  the  manifestation  of  it  to  our 
souls,  from  which  our  peace,  comfort,  and  joy 
spring,  may  be  interrupted  through  our  negligence, 
sloth,  and  sin.  A  sense  of  it,  when  it  is  so,  may 
well  break  our  hearts ;  for  there  is  no  ingratitude 
in  the  world  like  it."  ^  We  would  not  be  under- 
stood to  teach  that  God  punishes  his  people  for  sin 
in  a  legal  sense  ;  this  would  be  a  slur  ujDon  his 
justice  ;  for,  seeing  that  he  has  fully  punished 
their  sin  in  Christ,  to  inflict  any  penalty  upon  them 
would  be  demanding  a  double  punishment  for  one 
offence,  which  were  unjust.  Let  the  chastisements 
be  understood  in  a  paternal  sense  as  correctives, 
and  the  truth  is  gained.  Sin  will  be  chastened  in 
the  elect.  "  You  only  have  I  known  out  of  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth,  therefore,  I  will  punish  you 
for  your  iniquities."  If  we  walk  contrary  to  him, 
he  will  walk  contrary  to  us.  The  promise  of  com- 
munion is  only  appended  to  obedience.  "  He  that 
hath  m^^  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  he  it 
is  that  loveth  me :  and  he  that  loveth  me  shall  be 
loved  of  my  Father,  and  I  will  love  him,  and  will 
manifest  myself  to  him."  f  I^Tow  if  we  walk  scan- 
dalously, and  indulge  in  known  sin,  no  wonder 

*  Brine.  f  John  xiv.  21. 


JESUS    HIDING    HIMSELF.  3^9 

tlioiigli  the  Lord  withdraw  himself  from  us.  The 
joy  of  his  salvation  must  not  rest  with  his  erring 
ones,  though  the  salvation  itself  is  ever  theirs. 
Alas  for  us,  that  our  corruption  should  so  fre- 
quently mar  our  communion ! 

Many  times  between  conversion  and  the  rest  of 
eternity,  the  Christian,  through  sin,  will  have  to 
walk  through  a  salt  land,  not  inhabited,  and  find  the 
songs  of  the  Canticles  hushed  by  the  wail  of  the 
Lamentations.  Yet  we  would  fain  believe  that 
there  are  some  who  have  but  little  cause  to  write 
their  history  in  black  letters,  for  their  life  has  been 
one  continued  calm  communion,  with  only  here 
and  iliere  a  hurried  interruption.  We  are  far  from 
believing  that  the  despondency,  coldness,  and 
misery  produced  by  a  loss  of  the  visible  love  of 
■Christ  ought  to  make  up  any  considerable  part  of 
the  biography  of  a  Chi'istian.  That  they  do  so  in 
many  cases,  we  readily  admit,  but  that  it  should 
be-so  we  never  can  allow.  Those  men  who  glory 
in  what  they  proudly  call  a  deep  experience, — by 
which  they  mean  great  wanderings  from  the  path 
which  Enoch  trod  when  he  walked  with  God, — are 
very  prone  to  exalt  the  infirmities  of  the  Lord's 
people  into  infallible  and  admirable  proofs  of 
grace.  To  them  an  absent  Christ  is  fine  stock  in 
trade  for  a  sermon  upon  their  own  superlative  wis- 
dom ;  and  a  heart  which  mourns  abundantly,  but 
loves  most  scantily,  is  to  them  what  perfection  is  to 


360  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

tlie  Arminian.  As  if  the  weeds  of  the  field  were 
precious  plants  because  they  will  grow  in  good 
soil ;  as  if  the  freckles  on  the  face  of  beauty  were 
to  be  imitated  by  all  who  desire  to  attain  to  loveli- 
ness ;  or  as  if  the  rocks  iu  the  sea  were  the  very 
cause  of  its  fulness.  The  deepest  experience  in 
the  world  is  that  which  deals  only  with  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  is  so  sick  of  man,  and  of  all 
within  him,  and  so  confident  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
that  it  casts  the  whole  weight  of  the  sin  and  sinful- 
ness of  the  soul  entirely  upon  the  Redeemer,  and 
rejoicing  in  his  all  sufficiency,  looks  above  the 
wants  and  woes  of  its  own  evil  and  ruined  nature, 
to  the  completion  of  the  new  man  in  Christ  Jesus. 
That  eminent  preacher,  the  late  Rowland  Hill,  has 
well  said,  "  I  do  not  like  Christians  to  live  always 
complaining ;  but  I  do  not  mind  how  much  they 
complain  if  they  carry  their  corruptions  to  Jesus." 
This  is  forgotten  by  many ;  but  those  who  are  care- 
ful to  practice  it  will  have  many  causes  for  gladness. 
Blessed  be  God,  the  green  pastures  and  the  still 
waters,  the  shepherd's  crook  and  pleasant  com- 
pany, are  objects  which  are  quite  as  familiar  to 
the  believer's  mind  as  the  howling  wilderness  and 
the  brandished  rod — 

"  The  men  of  grace  have  found 
Glory  begun  below ; 
Celestial  fruits  on  earthly  ground, 
From  faith  and  hope  do  grow." 


JESUS    HIDING    HIMSELF.  361 

Yet,  to  the  believer's  grief,  seasons  of  absence  do 
occur,  and  those,  alas,  too  frequently.  It  is  our 
business,  as  the  Holy  Spirit  shall  enable  us,  very 
briefly  to  consider  the  subject  of  aj^jj^arent  deser- 
tion on  account  of  sin^  and  may  He  make  it  useful 
to  us. 

We  shall  now  proceed  to  review  the  mischiefs 
which  attend  u]3on  suspended  communion.  The 
effects  of  the  withdrawal  of  the  face  of  Jesus  are 
the  outward  signs  shadowing  forth  the  secret  sick- 
ness of  the  heart,  which  such  a  condition  neces- 
sarily engenders.  Although  it  be  not  fatal,  yet  is 
it  exceedingly  hurtful  to  miss  the  company  of  the 
Lord.  As  plants  thrive  not  when  the  light  is  kept 
from  them,  but  become  blanched  and  unhealthy, 
so  souls  deprived  of  the  light  of  God's  counte- 
nance are  unable  to  maintain  the  verdure  of 
their  piety  or  the  strength  of  their  graces.  What 
a  loss  is  a  lost  Christ ! 

During  this  doleful  season  the  helievei''' s  evidences 
are  eclipsed i  he  is  in  grievous  doubt  concerning 
his  own  condition  before  God ;  his  faith  is  become 
weak,  his  hope  well-nigh  buried,  and  his  love  cold 
and  languid.  The  graces  which,  like  j)lauetary 
stars,  once  shone  upon  him  with  light  and  radi- 
ance, are  now  dark  and  cheerless,  for  the  sun  has 
departed,  the  source  of  their  light  is  concealed  in 
clouds.  Evidences  without  Christ  are  like  unlit 
candks,  which  afford  no  light ;  like  fig-trees  with 

16 


362  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

leaves  onlj,  devoid  of  fruit;  like  purses  without 
gold,  and  like  barns  without  wheat ;  they  have 
great  capabilities  of  comfort,  but  without  Jesus 
they  are  emptiness  itself.  Evidences  are  like  con- 
duit-pipes— they  are  sometimes  the  channels  of 
living  water,  but  if  the  supply  from  the  fountain- 
head  be  cut  off  from  them,  their  waters,  utterly 
fail.  That  man  will  die  of  thirst  who  has  no  better 
spring  to  look  to  than  an  empty  pitcher  of  evi- 
dences. Ishmael  would  have  perished  in  the  wil- 
derness if  his  only  hope  had  been  in  the  bottle 
which  his  mother  brought  out  with  her  from  the 
tent  of  Abraham  ;  and  assuredly  without  dh-ect 
supplies  from  the  gracious  hands  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
the  saints  would  soon  be  in  an  ill  plight.  Unless 
the  God  of  our  graces  be  ever  at  the  root  of  them, 
they  will  prove  like  Jonah's  gourd,  which  withered 
away  when  he  was  most  in  need  of  it.  In  this 
condition  we  shall  find  ourselves,  if  we  lose  the 
presence  of  the  Lord  Jesus ;  we  shall  be  racked 
with  fears,  and  tormented  with  doubts,  without 
possessing  that  sovereign  cordial  with  which  in 
better  days  our  sorrows  have  been  allayed.  We 
shall  find  all  the  usual  sources  of  our  consola- 
tion dried  up,  and  it  will  be  in  vain  for  us  to 
expect  a  single  drop  from  them.  Ahab  sent 
Obediah  upon  an  idle  errand,  when  in  the  time  of 
great  drought  he  said,  "  Go  into  the  land  unto  all 
fountains  of  water,  and  unto  all  brooks:  peradven- 


JESUS    HIDING    HIMSELF.  363 

ture  we  may  find  grass  to  save  the  horses  and 
mules  alive,  that  we  lose  not  all  the  beasts  ;"  for 
it  was  the  presence  and  prayer  of  Elijah  which 
alone  conld  procure  the  rain  to  supply  their  wants ; 
and  if  we,  when  we  have  lost  our  Master's  society, 
seek  to  obtain  comfort  in  past  experiences  and 
time-worn  evidences,  we  shall  have  to  weep  with 
bitter  tears  because  of  a  disappointed  hope.  We 
must  regain  the  society  of  Christ,  if  we  would 
restore  the  lustre  of  our  assurance.  An  absent 
Saviour  and  joyous  confidence  are  seldom  to  be 
spoken  of  together. 

We  know,  however,  that  some  professors  can 
maintain  a  confident  carriage  when  the  presence 
of  the  Lord  is  withholden;  they  are  as  content 
without  him  as  with  him,  and  as  happy  under  his 
frown  as  when  in  the  sunshine  of  his  smile.  Be- 
tween the  outward  appearances  of  strong  faith  and 
strong  delusion  there  is  frequently  so  little  difierence 
that  the  presumptuous  boaster  is  often  as  highly 
esteemed  as  the  assured  believer:  nevertheless  in 
their  inner  nature  there  is  an  essential  distinction. 
Faith  believes  on  Jesus  when  his  comfortable 
promise  is  not  vouchsafed  ;  but  it  does  not  render 
the  soul  indifferent  to  the  sweetness  of  society. 
Faith  says,  "  I  believe  him  when  I  do  not  feel  his 
love  manifest  towards  me,  but  my  very  persuasion 
of  his  faithfulness  makes  me  pant  for  the  light  of 
his  countenance  ;"  but  vain  presumption  exclaims, 


364:  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUK. 

"  Away  "with  evidences  and  manifestations,  I  am  a 
vessel  of  mercy,  and  therefore  I  am  secm-e  ;  why 
should  I  trouble  myself  about  grace  or  graces  ?  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  that  all  is  right,  and  I  will 
not  break  my  slumbers,  whoever  may  seek  to 
alarm  me."  Happy  is  the  man  whose  faith  can 
see  in  tlie  thick  darkness,  and  whose  soul  can  live 
in  the  year  of  drought;  but  that  man  is  not  far 
from  a  curse  who  slights  the  fellowship  of  the 
Lord,  and  esteems  his  smile  to  be  a  vain  thing.  It 
is  an  ill  sign  if  any  of  us  are  in  a  contented  state 
when  we  are  forsaken  of  the  Lord ;  it  is  not  faith, 
but  wicked  indifference,  which  makes  us  careless 
concerning  communion  with  Him.  And  yet  how 
often  have  we  had  cause  to  lament  our  want  of 
concern  ?  how  frequently  have  we  groaned  because 
we  could  not  weep  as  we  ought  for  the  return  of 
our  husband  who  had  hidden  himself  from  us  ? 

"When  enveloped  in  the  mists  of  desertion,  we 
lose  all  those  pleasant  visions  of  the  future  which 
once  were  the  jewels  in  the  crown  of  our  life.  We 
have  no  climbings  to  the  top  of  Pisgah ;  no  pros- 
pects of  the  better  land ;  no  earnests  of  pure 
delight;  no  foretastes  of  the  riches  of  glory,  and 
no  assurance  of  our  title  to  the  goodly  land  beyond 
Jordan.  It  is  as  much  as  we  can  do  to  preserve 
ourselves  from  despair;  we  cannot  aspire  to  any 
confidence  of  future  glory.  It  is  a  contested  point 
with  us  whether  we  are  not  ripening  for  hell.     We 


JESUS    HIDING   HIMSELF.  '  365 

fear  that  we  never  knew  a  Saviour's  love,  but  have 
been  all  along  deceivers  and  deceived  ;  the  pit  of 
hell  yawns  before  us,  and  we  are  in  great  straits  to 
maintain  so  much  as  a  bare  hope  of  escape  from  it. 
We  had  once  despised  others  for  what  we  thought 
to  be  foolish  doubts,  but  now  that  we  ourselves  are 
ready  to  slip  with  our  feet,  we  think  far  more  of 
the  lamps  which  we  despised*  w^hen  we  were 
at  ease,  and  would  be  willing  to  change  places 
with  them  if  we  might  have  as  good  an  opinion  of 
our  own  sincerity  as  we  have  of  theirs.  "We  would 
give  anything  for  half  a  grain  of  hope,  and  would 
be  well  content  to  be  the  meanest  of  the  sheep,  if 
we  might  but  have  a  glimpse  of  the  Shepherd. 

The  native  luoyancy  of  spirit  which  distin- 
guishes the  heir  of  heaven  is  in  a  great  measure 
removed  by  the  departure  of  the  Lord.  The  be- 
liever is  spiritually  a  man  who  can  float  in  the 
deepest  waters,  and  mount  above  the  highest  bil- 
lows ;  he  is  able,  when  in  a  right  condition,  to  keep 
his  head  above  all  tlie  water-floods  which  may  in- 
vade his  peace :  but  see  his  Lord  depart,  and  he 
sinks  in  deep  mire,  where  there  is  no  standing — all 
the  waves  and  the  billows  have  gone  over  him. 
Troubles  which  were  light  as  a  feather  to  him,  are 
now  like  mountains  of  lead ;  he  is  afraid  of  every 
dog    that   snarls  at  him,  and    trembles  at  every 

*  Job,  xii.  5. 


S66  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUK. 

shadow.  He  who  in  his  better  days  could  cut 
down  an  acre  of  foemen  at  a  stroke,  is  affrighted 
at  the  approach  of  a  single  adversary.  He  whose 
heart  was  fixed  so  that  he  was  not  afraid  of  evil 
tidings,  is  now  alarmed  at  every  report.  Once  he 
could  hurl  defiance  to  earth  and  hell  united,  and 
could  laugh  at  persecutioD,  slander,  and  reproach, 
but  he  is  now  as  timid  as  a  deer,  and  trembles  at 
every  phantom  that  threatens  him.  His  daily 
cares,  which  once  he  loved  to  cast  upon  the  Lord, 
and  counted  but  as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance, 
are  now  borne  upon  the  shoulders  of  his  own 
anxiety,  and  are  a  load  intolerably  oppressive. 
He  was  once  clothed  in  armour  of  proof,  and  was 
not  afraid  of  sword  or  spear;  but  now  that  he 
hath  lost  his  Master's  presence,  such  is  his  naked- 
ness that  every  thorn  pierces  him,  and  every 
briar  fetches  blood  from  him;  yea,  his  spirit  is 
pierced  through  and  through  with  anxious  thoughts 
which  once  would  have  been  his  scorn.  How  are 
the  mighty  fallen ;  how  are  the  princes  taken  in  a 
net,  and  the  nobles  cast  as  the  mire  of  the  street ! 
He  who  could  do  all  things  can  now  do  nothing ; 
and  he  who  could  rejoice  in  deep  distress  is  now 
mourning  in  the  midst  of  blessings.  He  is  like  a 
chariot  without  wheels  or  horses,  a  harj)  without 
strings,  a  river  without  water,  and  a  sail  without 
wind.  No  songs  and  music  now;  his  harp  is 
hanging  upon  the  willows.     It  is  vain  to  ask  of 


JESUS    HIDING   IimSELF.  3G7 

him  a  song,  for  "  the  chief  musician  upon  his 
stringed  instruments"  has  ceased  to  lead  the  choir. 
Can  the  spouse  be  happy  when  she  has  grieved  her 
bridegroom  and  lost  his  company  ?  Ko  ;  she  will 
go  weeping  through  every  street  of  the  city,  until 
she  can  again  embrace  him;  her  joy  shall  cease 
until  ao-ain  she  shall  behold  his  countenance. 

It  is  frequently  an  effect  of  divine  withdrawal 
that  the  mind  lecomes  grovelling  and  earthly. 
Covetousness  and  love  of  riches  attain  a  sad  pre- 
ponderance. The  Lord  will  hide  himself  if  we 
love  the  world ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  his  ab- 
sence, which  is  intended  for  far  other  purposes, 
will  sometimes,  through  the  infirmity  of  our  na- 
ture, increase  the  evil  which  it  is  intended  to  cure. 
When  the  Lord  Jesus  is  present  in  the  soul,  and  is 
beheld  by  it,  ambition,  covetousness,  and  worldli- 
ness  flee  apace  ;  for  such  is  his  apparent  glory  that 
earthly  objects  fade  away  like  the  stars  in  noon- 
day ;  but  when  he  is  gone  they  will  show  their 
fiilse  glitter,  as  the  stars,  however  small,  will  shine 
at  midnight.  Find  a  Christian  whose  soul  cleaveth 
to  the  dust,  and  who  careth  for  the  things  of  this 
life,  and  you  have  found  one  who  has  had  but 
little  manifest  fellowship  with  Jesus.  As  sure  as 
ever  we  undervalue  the  Saviour's  company,  we 
shall  set  too  high  an  estimate  upon  the  things  of 
this  life,  and  then  bitterness  and  disappointment 
are  at  the  door. 


3G8  THE   SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

At  this  juncture,  moreover,  the  great  enemy  of 
souls  is  peculiarly  lusy ;  our  extremity  is  his  op- 
portunity, and  he  is  not  backward  in  availing  him- 
self of  it.  I^ow  that  Zion's  Captain  has  removed 
his  royal  presence,  the  evil  one  concludes  that  he 
may  deal  with  the  soul  after  the  devices  of  his  own 
malicious  heart.  Accordingly,  with  many  a  roar 
and  hideous  yell,  he  seeks  to  affright  the  saint; 
and  if  this  suffices  not,  he  lifts  his  arm  of  terror  and 
hurls  his  fiery  dart.  As  lions  prowl  by  night,  so 
doth  he  seek  his  prey  in  tlie  darkness.  The  saint 
is  now  more  than  usually  beneath  his  power; 
every  wound  from  the  envenomed  dart  festers  and 
gangrenes  more  easily  than  at  other  times ;  while 
to  the  ear  of  the  troubled  one  the  bowlings  of  Satan 
seem  to  be  a  thousand  times  louder  than  he  had 
ever  heard  before.  Doubts  of  our  calling,  our 
election,  and  adoption,  fly  into  our  souls  like  the 
flies  into  Pharaoh's  palace,  and  all  the  while  the 
grim  fiend  covers  us  with  a  darkness  that  may  be 
felt.  Had  he  attacked  us  in  our  hours  of  commu- 
nion, we  would  soon  have  made  him  feel  the  metal 
of  our  swords ;  but  our  arm  is  palsied,  and  our 
strokes  are  like  blows  from  the  hand  of  a  child, 
rather  exciting  his  laughter  than  his  fear.  Oh  for 
the  days  when  we  put  to  flight  the  armies  of  the 
aliens!  would  to  God  we  could  again  put  on 
strength,  and  by  the  arm  of  the  Lord  o'erthrow  the 
hosts  of  hell !     Like  Samson  we  sigh  for  the  hair 


JESUS   HIDING  HIMSELF.  369 

in  wliicli  our  great  strength  lieth ;  and  when  the 
shouts  of  the  vaunting  Philistines  are  in  our  ears, 
we  cry  for  the  strength  which  once  laid  our  ene- 
mies "heaps  upon  heaps"  by  tliousands.  We 
must  again  enjoy  the  manifest  presence  of  the 
Lord,  or  we  shall  have  hard  w^ork  to  lift  up  a 
standard  against  the  enemy. 

It  is  not  an  unusual  circumstance  to  find  sin 
return  iipon  the  conscience  at  this  critical  season. 

"  Now  the  heart,  disclos'd,  betrays 

All  its  hid  disorders  ; 
Enmity  to  God's  right  ways, 

Blasphemies  and  murders : 
Malice,  envy,  lust,  and  pride, 

Thoughts  obscene  and  filthy, 
Sores  corrupt  and  putrefied, 

No  part  sound  or  healthy. 

"  All  things  to  promote  our  fall. 

Show  a  mighty  fitness  ; 
Satan  will  accuse  withal, 

And  the  conscience  witness  ; 
Foes  within,  and  foes  without. 

Wrath,  and  law,  and  terrors  ; 
Rash  presumption,  timid  doubt, 

Coldness,  deadness,  errors."  * 

When  Israel  had  the  sea  before  them,  and  the 
mountains    on    either    hand,    their    old    masters 

*  Hart. 

16^ 


370  THE  SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

thought  it  a  fit  time  to  pursue  them  ;  and  now  that 
the  believer  is  in  great  straits,  his  former  sins  rise 
up  to  afiiict  him  and  cause  him  renewed  sorrow : 
then,  moreover,  our  sins  become  more  formidable 
to  us  than  they  were  at  our  first  repentance  ;  when 
we  were  in  Egypt  we  saw  not  the  Egyptians  upon 
horses  and  in  chariots — they  only  appeared  as  our 
task-masters  with  their  whips ;  but  now  we  see 
them  clad  in  armour  as  mighty  ones,  full  of  wrath, 
bearing  the  instruments  of  death.  The  pangs  of 
sin,  when  the  Lord  forsakes  ns,  are  frequently  as 
vehement  as  at  first  conversion,  and  in  some  cases 
far  more  so ;  for  conviction  of  having  grieved 
a  Saviour  whose  love  we  have  once  known,  and 
whose  faithfuhiess  we  have  proved,  will  cause  grief 
of  a  far  more  poignant  character  than  any  other 
order  of  conviction.  Men  Avho  have  been  in  a 
room  full  of  light,  think  the  darkness  more  dense 
than  it  is  considered  to  be  by  those  who  have  long 
walked  in  it ;  so  pardoned  men  think  more  of  the 
evil  of  sin  than  those  who  never  saw  the  light. 

The  deserted  soul  has  little  or  no  liberty  in 
jprayer :  he  pursues  the  habit  from  a  sense  of  duty, 
but  it  yields  him  no  delight.  In  prayer  the  spirit 
is  dull  and  languid,  and  after  it  the  soul  feels  no 
more  refreshment  than  is  afforded  to  the  weary  by 
a  sleep  disturbed  with  dreams  and  broken  with 
terrors.  He  is  unable  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of 
worship  ;  it  is  rather  an  attem/pt  at  devotion  than 


JESUS    HIDING    HIMSELF.  3Y1 

the  attainment  of  it.  As  when  tlie  bird  with 
broken  wing  strives  to  mount,  and  rises  a  little  dis- 
tance, but  speedily  falls  to  the  ground,  where  it 
painfully  limps  and  flaps  its  useless  pinion — so  does 
the  believer  strive  to  pray,  but  fails  to  reach  the 
height  of  his  desires,  and  sorrowfully  gropes  his 
way  with  anguishing  attempts  to  soar  on  high.  A 
pious  man  once  said — "  Often  when  in  prayer  I 
feel  as  if  I  held  between  my  palms  the  fatherly 
heart  of  God,  and  the  bloody  hand  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  ;  for  I  remind  the  one  of  his  divine  love  and 
inconceivable  mercies,  and  I  grasp  the  other  by 
his  promise,  and  strive  to  hold  him  fast  and  say, 
'  I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me.'  "  * 
But  when  left  by  the  Lord  such  blessed  nearness 
of  access  is  impossible  ;  there  is  no  answer  of 
peace,  no  token  for  good,  no  message  of  love.  The 
ladder  is  there,  but  no  angels  are  ascending  and 
descending  upon  it ;  the  key  of  j^rayer  is  in  the 
hand,  but  it  turns  uselessly  within  the  lock. 
Prayer  without  the  Lord's  presence  is  like  a  bow 
without  a  string,  or  an  arrow  without  a  head. 

TliQ  Bible^  too,  that,  great  granary  of  the  finest 
wheat,  becomes  a  place  of  emptiness,  where  hun- 
ger looks  in  vain  for  food  :  in  reading  it,  the  dis- 
tressed soul  will  think  it  to  be  all  threatenings  and 
no  promises ;   he  will  see  the  terrors  written  in 

*  Gen.  xxxii.  26. 


372  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

capitals,  and  the  consolations  printed  in  a  type  so 
small  as  to  be  almost  illegible.  Eead  the  Word 
he  must,  for  it  has  become  as  necessary  as  his 
food  ;  but  enjoy  it  he  cannot,  for  its  savom-  has 
departed.  As  well  might  we  try  to  read  in  the 
dark  as  to  get  joy  from  Holy  Scripture  unless 
Christ  shall  pour  his  gracious  light  upon  the  page. 
As  the  richest  field  yields  no  harvest  without  rain, 
so  the  book  of  revelation  brings  forth  no  comfort 
without  the  dew  of  the  Spirit. 

Our  intercourse  with  Cliristian  friends^  once  so 
enriching,  is  rendered  profitless,  or  at  best  its  only 
usefulness  is  to  reveal  our  poverty  by  enabling  us 
to  compare  our  own  condition  with  that  of  other 
saints.  AYe  cannot  minister  unto  their  edification, 
nor  do  we  feel  that  their  company  is  aflfording  us 
its  usual  enjoyment ;  and  it  may  be  we  turn  away 
from  them,  longing  to  see  His  face  whose  absence 
we  deplore.  'This  barrenness  overspreads  all  the 
ordinances  of  the  Lord's  house,  and  renders  them 
all  unprofitable.  When  Christ  is  with  the  Chris- 
tian, the  means  of  grace  are  like  flowers  in  the  sun- 
shine, smelling  fragrantly  and  smiling  beauteously ; 
but  without  Christ  they  are  like  flowers  by  night, 
their  fountains  of  fragrance  are  sealed  by  the  dark- 
ness. The  songs  of  the  temple  shall  be  bowlings 
in  that  day,  and  her  solemn  feasts  as  mournful  as 
her  days  of  fasting.  The  sacred  supper  which, 
when  Christ  is  at  the  table,  is  a  feast  of  fat  things, 


1       JESUS    HIDING   HIMSELF.  3Y3 

without  him  is  as  an  empty  vine.  The  holj  con- 
vocation without  Him  is  as  the  gatherings  of  the 
market,  and  the  preaching  of  his  Word  as  the 
shoutings  of  the  streets.  We  hear,  but  the  out- 
ward ear  is  tlie  only  part  affected  ;  we  sing,  but 

"  Ilosannahs  languish  on  our  tongues, 
And  our  devotion  dies." 

We  even  attempt  to  preach  (if  this  be  our  calling), 
but  we  speak  in  heavy  chains,  full  of  grievous 
bondage.  We  pant  for  God's  house,  and  then, 
after  we  have  entered  it,  we  are  but  the  worse. 
We  have  thirsted  for  the  well,  and  having  reached 
it  we  find  it  empty. 

Very  probably  we  shall  grow  censorious^  and 
blame  the  ministry  and  i\^  church  when  the  blame 
lies  only  with  ourselves.  We  shall  begin  to  cavil, 
censure,  criticise,  and  blame.  Would  to  God  that 
any  who  are  now  doing  so  would  pause  and  inquire 
the  reason  of  their  unhappy  disposition.  Hear  the 
reproof  administered  by  one  of  the  giants  of  puri- 
tanic times :  "  You  come  ofttimes  to  Wisdom's 
home,  and  though  she  prepare  you  all  spiritual 
dainties,  yet  you  can  relish  nothing  but  some  by- 
things,  that  lie  about  the  dish  rather  for  ornament 
than  for  food.  And  would  you  know  the  reason 
of  this  ?  It  is  because  Christ  is  not  with  your 
spirits.  If  Christ  were  with  you,  you  would  feed 
on  every  dish  at  Wisdom's  table,  on  promises,  yea. 


374:  THE    SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUR. 

and  on  threatenings  too.  '  To  the  hungry  soul 
every  bitter  thing  is  sweet,'  saith  Solomon.  All 
that  is  good  and  wholesome  goes  down  well  where 
Christ  is  with  the  spirit."  ^  Oh,  for  the  Master's 
smile  to  impart  a  relish  to  his  dainties  ! 

Weahiess  is  the  unavoidable  result  of  the  Lord's 
displeasure.  ^'  The  joy  of  the  Lord  is  our  strength," 
and  if  this  be  wanting  we  necessarily  become  faint. 
^'Jlis presence  is  life,"  and  the  removal  of  it  shakes 
us  to  our  very  foundation.  L)uty  is  toilsome 
labour,  unless  Christ  make  it  a  delight.  "  With- 
out me  ye  can  do  nothing,"  said  the  Kedeemcr ; 
and  truly  we  have  found  it  so.  The  boldness  of 
lion-like  courage,  the  firmness  of  rooted  decision, 
;the  confidence  of  unflinching  faith,  the  zeal  of 
quenchless  love,  the  vigour  of  undying  devotion, 
the  sweetness  of  sanctified  fellowship — all  hang  for 
suj)port  upon  the  one  pillar  of  the  Saviour's  pre- 
sence, and  this  removed  they  fail.  There  are 
many  and  precious  clusters,  but  they  all  grow  on 
one  bough,  and  if  that  be  broken  they  fall  with  it. 
Though  we  be  flourishing  like  the  green  bay-tree, 
yet  the  shOtrpness  of  such  a  winter  will  leave  us 
leafless  and  bare.  Then  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blos- 
som, neither  shall  there  be  fruit  in  the  vine  ;  the 
labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  field  shall 
yield  no  meat."      "  Instead  of  sweet  smell  there 

*  Lockycr. 


JESUS    HIDING   HIMSELF.  375 

shall  be  a  stink ;  and  instead  of  a  girdle  a  rent ; 
and  instead  of  well-set  hair,  baldness  ;  and  instead 
of  a  stomaclier  a  girding  of  sackcloth  ;  and  burn- 
ing instead  of  beauty."  *  It  is  then  that  we  shall 
cry  with  Saul,  "  I  am  sore  distressed,  for  the  Philis- 
tines make  war  against  me,  and  God  is  departed 
from  me,  and  answereth  me  no  more,  neither  by 
prophets  nor  by  dreams."  f  Good  it  is  for  us  that 
He  is  not  clean  gone  for  ever,  but  w^ill  turn  again 
lest  we  perish. 

'Not  to  weary  ourselves  upon  this  mournful  topic, 
we  may  sum  up  all  the  manifest  effects  of  a  loss  of 
the  manifest  favour  of  Christ  in  one  sad  catalogue 
— misery  of  spirit,  faintness  in  hope,  coldness  in 
worship,  slackness  in  duty,  dulness  in  prayer,  bar- 
renness in  meditation,  worldliness  of  mind,  strife 
of  conscience,  attacks  from  Satan,  and  weakness  in 
resisting  the  enemy.  Such  ruin  doth  a  withdraw- 
ing of  Divine' presence  work  in  man.  From  all 
grieving  of  thy  S^^irit,  from  all  offending  of  the 
Saviour,  from  all  withdrawing  of  thy  visible 
favour,  and  loss  of  thy  presence,  good  Lord, 
deliver  us.  And  if  at  any  time  we  have  erred, 
and  have  lost  the  light  of  thy  coimtenance,  O  Lord, 
help  us  still  to  believe  thy  grace  and  trust  in  the 
merits  of  thy  Son,  through  whom  we  address  thee. 
Amen. 

*  Isa.  iii.  24.  f  1  Sam,  xxviii.  15. 


TO  THE  IJITCONyEETED  KEADEE. 


Sinner,  if  the  consequences  of  tlie  temporary 
departure  of  God  be  so  terrible,  what  must  it  be  to 
be  sliut  out  from  bim  for  ever?  If  the  passing 
cloud  of  bis  seeming  anger  scatteretli  sucb  grievous 
rain  upon  the  beloved  sons  of  God,  bow  direful  will 
be  the  continual  shower  of  God's  unchanging  wrath 
which  will  fall  on  the  head  gf  rebellious  sinners  for 
ever  and  ever !  Ah,  and  we  need  not  look  so  far 
as  the  future !  How  pitiable  is  your  condition 
NOW !  How  great  is  the  danger  to  which  you  are 
every  day  exposed !  How  can  you  eat  or  drink, 
or  sleep  or  work,  while  the  eternal  God  is  your 
enemy  ?  He  whose  wrath  makes  the  devils  roar 
in  agony  is  not  a  God  to  be  trifled  with !  Beware! 
his  frown  is  death ;  'tis  more — 'tis  hell.  If  you 
knew,  the  misery  of  the  saint  when  his  Lord  deserts 
him  but  for  a  small  moment,  it  would  be  enough 
to  amaze  you.  Tlien  what  must  it  be  to  endure 
it  throughout  eternity  ?     Sinner,  thou  art  hasting 

376 


JESUS    HIDING   HIMSELF.  377 

to  hell,  mind  what  thou  art  at!  Do  not  damn 
thyself,  there  are  cheaper  ways  of  playing  fool 
than  that.  Go  and  array  thyself  in  motley,  and 
become  the  aping  fool,  at  whom  men  laugh,  but  do 
not  make  laughter  for  fiends  for  ever.  Carry  coals 
on  thy  head,  or  dash  thine  head  against  the  wall, 
to  prove  that  thou  art  mad,  but  do  not  "  kick 
against  the  pricks;"  do  not  commit  suicide  upon 
thine  own  soul  for  the  mere  sake  of  indulging  thy 
thoughtlessness.  Be  wise,  lest  being  often  reproved, 
having  hardened  thy  neck,  thou  shouldest  be  sud- 
denly destroyed,  and  that  without  remedy. 


XI. 

THE   CAUSES   OF  APPARENT 
DESERTION. 


"  Show  me  wherefore  thou  contendest  with  me." — Job,  x.  2. 


It  would  be  a  grievous  imputation  upon  the 
much  tried  children  of  God,  if  we  should  imagine 
that  their  greater  trials  are  the  results  of  greater 
sin.  We  see  some  of  them  stretched  upon  the  bed 
of  languishing  year  after  year ;  others  are  subject 
to  the  severest  losses  in  business,  and  a  third  class 
are  weeping  the  oft-repeated  bereavements  of 
death.  Are  all  these  chastisements  for  sin?  and 
are  we  to  attribute  the  excess  of  trouble  to  an 
enlarged  degree  of  transgression?  Many  of  the 
Lord's  people  are  free  from  the  extreme  bitterness 
of  such  affliction :  what  is  the  cause  of  the  differ- 
ence ?  Is  it  always  the  result  of  sin  ?  We  reply, 
Certainly  not.  In  many  cases  it  is,  but  in  as  many 
more  it  is  not.    David  had  a  comparatively  smooth 

37S 


CAUSES    OF    APPARENT   DESERTION.  379 

course  until  after  his  sin  witli  Bathslieba,  and  then 
he  commenced  a  j^ilgrimage  of  deepest  woe ;  but 
we  do  not  think  that  the  trials  of  Job  were  pre- 
ceded by  any  great  fall;  "on  the  contrary.  Job  was 
never  more  holy  than  just  before  the  enemy  fell 
npon  him.  Trials  have  other  errands  besides  the 
mortification  of  the  flesh,  and  other  reasons  beyond 
that  of  chastisement  for  sin. 

Since  the  hidings  of  God's  countenance  stand 
among  the  chief  of  our  troubles,  the  previous 
remark  will  apply  to  tliem.  These  are,  Avithout 
doubt,  very  frequently  a  monition  from  Christ  of 
his  grief  at  our  iniquities ;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
there  are  so  many  exceptions  to  this  rule,  that  it 
would  be  unsafe,  as  well  as  untrue,  to  consider  it  to 
be  general.  A  portion  of  the  Lord's  family  live 
usually  in  the  shade  ;  they  are  like  those  sweet 
flowers  which  bloom  nowhere  so  well  as  in  the 
darkest  and  thickest  glades  of  the  forest.  Shall  we 
dare  to  charge  them  with  guilt  on  this  account  ? 
If  we  do  so,  their  extreme  sensitiveness  will  lead 
them  to  jDlead  guilty ;  they  will  be  wounded  to  the 
quick,  and  by  tCeir  very  grief  and  ingenuous  con- 
fession, they  will  unwittingly  refate  our  cruel  sup- 
position. Some  of  these  bedarkened  travellers 
exhibit  the  rarest  virtues  and  the  most  precious 
graces.  They  are,  of  course,  wanting  in  some 
great  points ;  but  in  others  they  so  much  excel  that 
we  are  compelled  to  admire.    The  white  and  sickly 


380  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

lily  is  exceeding  fair,  although  she  has  not  the 
ruddy  health  which  is  the  glory  of  the  rose.  We 
desire  that  these  sons  and  daughters  of  mourning 
may  come  forth  to  the  li^ht,  and  rejoice  in  their 
Lord :  but  if  they  shall  still  tarry  in  the  land  of 
darkness,  be  it  far  from  us  to  charge  them  with 
greater  sin  because  they  have  less  joy.  We 
remember  well  the  lines  of  the  poet — 

"  In  this  wild  world  the  fondest  and  the  best 
Are  the  most  tried,  most  troubled,  and  distrest."  * 

"We  will  now  venture  to  suggest  some  of  the  rea- 
sons for  the  Saviour's  withdrawals. 

1.  Divine  Sovereignty  is  manifested  in  the  com- 
munion of  saints  with  their  Lord,  as  well  as  in 
every  other  step  of  the  journey  to  heaven.  He 
who  giveth  no  account  of  his  matters,  out  of  his 
own  absolute  will  and  good  pleasure  may  extin- 
guish the  lamps  of  comfort  and  quench  the  fires  of 
joy,  and  yet  give  to  his  creature  no  reason  for  his 
conduct;  yea,  and  find  no  reason  in  the  creature, 
but  exercise  his  kingly  rights  in  the  most  uncon- 
trolled and  absolute  manner.  That  all  men  may 
see  that  their  best  pleasures  fiow  from  the  river  of 
God,  and  are  only  to  be  found  in  him,  and  only  to 
be  obtained  through  his  divine  grace,  he  is  pleased 
at  certain  seasons  to  dry  up  the  springs,  to  close  the 

*  Crabbe. 


CAUSES   OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  381 

fountain,  and  suspend  the  flowing  of  the  stream ; 
so  that  even  the  best  of  men  languish,  and  all  the 
godly  of  the  earth  do  mourn.  Lest  the  green  fir- 
tree  should  exalt  itself  by  reason  of  its  fruitfulness, 
as  if  it  did  garnish  itself  with  beauty,  the  God  of 
our  salvation  allows  a  withering  and  a  blight  to 
seize  upon  it  that  it  may  believe  the  sacred  decla- 
ration, ''From  me  is  thy  fruit  found."  God's 
own  glory  is  sometimes  his  only  motive  for  action, 
and  truly  it  is  a  reason  so  great  and  good  that  he 
who  mocks  at  it  must  be  a  stranger  to  God,  and 
cannot  be  truly  humbled  before  him.  It  may  be 
that  the  sole  cause  of  our  sad  condition  lies  in  the 
absolute  will  of  God  ;  if  so,  let  us  bend  our  heads 
in  silence,  and  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good. 
Unhappy  is  our  lot  when  our  best  Beloved  is  ab- 
sent ;  but  he  shall  do  as  he  pleases,  and  we  wdll 
sigh  for  his  return ;  but  we  will  not  chide  him  for 
his  absence :  "  What  if  God  will  use  his  absolute- 
ness and  prerogative  in  this  his  dealing  with  his 
child,  and  proceed  therein  according  to  no  ruled 
case  or  precedent  ?  This  he  may  do,  and  who  shall 
cry,  '  What  doest  thou?'"* 

We  think,  however,  that  this  case  is  but  of  rare 
occurrence,  and  we  w^ould,  under  every  withdrawal, 
exhort  the  believer  to  look  for  some  other  cause, 
and  only  resort  to  this  explanation  when  he  can 

*  Goodwin. 


382  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUK. 

truly  say,  as  in  God's  sight,  that  with  diligent 
searching  he  cannot  discover  another.  Then  let 
him  remember  that  such  trouble  shall  be  richly  re- 
compensed even  in  this  life,  as  Job's  poverty  was 
fully  restored  by  his  double  wealth. 

2.  Without  this  the  believer  could  not  enter  into 
the  depths  of  felloioship  with  Christ  in  his  suffer- 
ings. The  very  worst  of  the  Saviour's  agonies  lay 
in  his  desertion  by  God ;  the  cry  of  ''  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?"  was  the  gall  of 
the  bitterness  of  the  miseries  of  Jesus.  Now,  unless 
we  had  to  endure  a  measure  of  the  same  excruci- 
ating torment  of  desertion,  we  could  not  enter  into 
communion  with  him  to  any  great  degree.  At  the 
very  deepest  our  fellowship  is  shallow ;  but  give 
us  the  continued  and  invariable  light  of  the  Lord's 
countenance,  and  we  should  for  ever  remain  little 
children  in  fellowship.  Our  Master  desires  that 
we  may  know  him  in  his  death,  and  sympathise 
with  him  in  his  sufferings.  That  eminent  divine, 
Eichard  Sibbs,  thus  writes :  "  E"ow  all  of  us  must 
sip  of  that  cup  whereof  Christ  drank  the  dregs, 
having  a  taste  of  what  it  is  to  have  God  to  forsake 
us.  For  the  most  part,  those  believers  who  live 
any  time  (especially  those  of  great  parts)  God  deals 
thus  with ;  weaker  Christians  he  is  more  indulgent 
unto.  At  such  a  time  we  know  the  use  of  a  medi- 
ator, and  how  miserable  our  condition  were  with- 
out such  an  one,  both  to  have  borne  and  overcome 


CAUSES    OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  383 

the  wrath  of  God  for  us!""^  Again,  the  deeply 
experienced  Thomas  Goodwin  says :  "  Though  no 
creature  was  able  to  drink  off  Christ's  cup  to  the 
bottom,  yet  taste  they  might,  and  Christ  tells  them 
they  should :  '  Ye  shall  drink  indeed  of  my  cup, 
and  be  baptised  with  the  baptism  that  I  am  bap- 
tised withj'f  that  is,  taste  of  inward  affliction  and 
desertion,  as  well  as  of  outward  j)ersecution ;  and 
all  to  make  us  conformable  to  him,  that  w^e  might 
come  to  know  in  part  what  he  endured  for  us.":j: 
Sweet  departure  of  Jesus,  which  thus  enables  us  to 
approach  the  nearer  to  him  !  of  all  reasons  for  pa- 
tience none  can  be  more  powerful  than  this. 

3.  Thus,  in  some  men,  the  Lord  works  a  jprejpa- 
ration  for  eminent  service.  By  the  experience  of 
sharp  inward  trouble,  the  Lord's  mighty  men  are 
prepared  for  the  fight.  To  them  the  heat  by  day 
and  the  frost  by  night,  the  shoutings  of  the  war, 
the  spear  and  the  battle-axe  are  little  things,  for 
they  have  been  trained  in  a  sterner  school.  They 
are  like  plants  which  have  lived  through  the  severi- 
ties of  winter,  and  can  well  defy  the  frosts  of  spring; 
they  are  like  ships  which  have  crossed  the  deep  and 
have  weathered  the  storm,  and  are  not  to  be  upset 
by  every  capful  of  wind.  To  them  the  loss  of 
man's  applause  is  of  small  account,  for  they  have 
endured  the  loss  of  Christ's  smile,  and  have  yet 

*  Sibbs's  Boicels  Opened.  f  Matt.  xx.  23. 

X  Child  of  Light  walking  in  Darkness. 


384  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

trusted  him.  To  them  the  contumely  of  a  world, 
and  the  rage  of  hell,  are  nothing,  for  they  have 
suffered  what  is  a  thousand  times  worse — they 
have  passed  under  the  cloud  of  Christ's  transient 
forsaking.  They  are  wise,  for,  like  Heman,  they 
have  been  "  afflicted  and  ready  to  die  from  their 
youth  up,"  ^  and  therefore,  like  him,  they  are  fit 
to  compare  with  Solomon  in  some  things,  and  are 
wiser  than  he  in  others. f  They  are  useful,  for 
Paul  saith  of  such  men,  "  Brethren,  if  a  man  be 
overtaken  in  a  fault,  ye  which  are  spiritual,  restore 
such  an  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  considering 
thyself,  lest  thou  also  be  tempted."  There  are  no 
preachers  in  the  world  like  those  who  have  passed 
by  the  way  of  trouble  to  the  gate  of  wisdom. 
Moses  prized  Hobab  because  he  knew  how  to  en- 
camp in  the  wilderness,^:  and  so  we  value  "the 
minister  who  has  learned  as  Hobab  did,  by  living 
in  the  desert  himself.  Luther  said  Temptation  was 
one  of  his  masters  in  divinity.  "We  will  readily 
trust  ourselves  in  the  hands  of  a  physician  who  has 
been  himself  sick  of  our  disease,  and  has  tried  the 
remedies  which  he  prescribes  for  us ;  so  we  confide 
in  the  advice  of  the  Christian  who  knows  our  trials 
by  having  felt  them.  "What  sweet  words  in  season 
do  tried  saints  address  to  mourners !  they  are  the 
real  sons  of  consolation,  the  truly  good  Samaritans. 

*  Ps.  Ixxxviii.  15.  f  1  Kiugs,  iv.  31. 

X  Num.  X.  31. 


CAUSES    OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  385 

We  wlio  have  a  less  rugged  path,  are  apt  to  over- 
drive the  lambs;  but  these  have  nourished  and 
brought  up  children,  and  know  how  to  feel  for  the 
weaknesses  of  the  little  ones.  It  is  often  remarked 
that  after  soul-sorrow  our  pastors  are  more  gifted 
with  words  in  season,  and  their  speech  is  more  full 
of  savour  :  this  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  sweet 
influence  of  grief  when  sanctified  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Blessed  Kedeemer,  we  delight  in  thy  love, 
and  thy  presence  is  the  life  of  our  joys  ;  but  if  thy 
brief  withdrawals  qualify  us  for  glorifying  thee  in 
clieering  thy  saints,  we  thank  thee  for  standing 
behind  the  wall ;  and  as  we  seek  thee  by  night,  it 
shall  somewhat  cheer  us  that  thou  art  blessing. us 
when  thou  takest  away  thy  richest  blessing. 

By  sad  experience  of  apparent  desertion  we  are 
some  of  us  enabled  to  preach  to  sinners  with 
greater  affection  and  concern  than  we  could  have 
exhibited  without  it.  Our  bowels  yearn  over  dying 
men,  for  we  know  what  their  miseries  must  be,  if 
they  die  out  of  Christ.  If  our  light  affliction, 
which  is  but  for  a  moment,  is  yet  at  times  the 
cause  of  great  heaviness,  what  must  an  eternal 
weight  of  torment  be  ?  These  thoughts,  begotten 
by  our  sorrow,  are  very  useful  in  stirring  up  our 
hearts  in  preaching,  for  under  such  emotions  we 
weep  over  them,  we  plead  with  them ;  and,  as 
though  God  did  beseech  them  by  us,  we  pray  them 
in  Christ's  stead  to  be  reconciled  to  God.  For  a 
17 


886  THE   SAINT  AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

proof  thereof,  let  the  reader  turn  to  the  Address 
to  the  Unconyerted  appended  to  this  chapter ;  it 
was  written  by  one  who  for  many  years  endured 
the  gloom  of  desertion.  May  God  bless  it  to  sin- 
ners ! 

4.  The  Lord  Jesus  sometimes  hides  himself  from 
us,  because  by  his  foresight  and  prudence  he  is 
thus  able  to  j[>reve7it  the  hreaking  forth  of  evil. 
Perhaps  pride  would  rise  to  an  alarming  height  if 
the  pining  sickness  of  desertion  did  not  somewhat 
abate  its  violence.  If  some  men  had  all  their 
desires  the  earth  would  need  enlargement,  for  their 
pride  would  become  intolerable  to  their  fellows; 
and,  certainly,  while  corruption  still  remains  in  our 
hearts,  continual  comfort  would  work  somewhat  in 
the  same  manner  even  in  us.  Because  of  the 
haughtiness,  which  so  easily  arises  in  the  hearts  of 
the  Lord's  people  if  they  have  a  little  too  much 
feasting,  "  the  Lord  in  his  care  and  goodness  is  fain 
to  hold  them  to  hard  meat,  and  to  keep  them  to  a 
spare  diet."  *  Sometimes,  also,  high  living  would 
bring  on  carelessness  of  walk.  We  should  forget 
that  we  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight,  if  it  were 
not  for  intervals  of  darkness  in  which  sense  is  put 
to  its  wit's  "ends,  and  only  faith  is  of  use  to  us. 
Dependence  is  generally  the  mother  of  humility ; 
as  long  as  we  feel  the  one  we  shall  not  be  quite 

*  Thomas  Hooker. 


CAUSES   OF   APPAKENT   DESERTION.  387 

devoid  of  tlie  other ;  therefore  om-  Divine  Lord, 
according  to  his  own  wisdom,  gives  us  a  bitter  les- 
son in  both,  by  stopping  the  supplies  of  joy  and 
withholding  his  presence.  The  fact  is,  that  in  our 
present  state  much  that  is  pleasant  to  us  is  not 
good  for  us.  We  are  not  able  to  endure  the  w^eight 
of  glory,  for  our  backs  are  weak,  and  we  stagger 
under  it.  It  is  hard  to  hold  a  full  cup  with  a 
steady  hand.  We  are  like  the  fire  on  the  hearth, 
which  can  be  extinguished  by  too  much  sunlight, 
as  well  as  by  floods  of  water;  even  joy  can  destroy 
us  as  well  as  grief.  The  Master  said  to  his  dis- 
ciples, "  I  have  yet  many  things  to  say  unto  you, 
but  ye  cannot  bear  them  now."*  The  incapacity 
of  the  saint  may  account  for  the  comparative  few- 
ness of  his  delights.  *'  As  it  is  with  a  little  bark, 
if  it  should  have  a  great  mainmast  and  broad  sail- 
cloths, then,  instead  of  carrying  it,  it  would  be 
overthrown  by  them ;  therefore  men  proportion 
their  mast  according  to  their  ship  or  bark;  and 
if  it  have  skilful  mariners,  they  strike  sail  when 
they  come  into  the  shallow  or  narrow  seas.  This  is 
the  reason  why  the  Lord  so  deals  with  us :  the  soul 
is  like  the  ship,  and  the  sense  of  God's  love  and 
mercy  is  like  the  sail  that  carries  us  on  in  a 
Christian  course ;  and  if  we  get  but  little  sail  of 
mercy  and  favour,  we  go  on  sweetly  and  com- 

*  John  xvi.  12. 


388  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUE. 

fortably ;  but  if  God  gives  us  abundance  and  assu- 
rance, our  cursed  rotten  hearts  would  overturn,  and 
instead  of  quickening  us  it  would  overthrow  us ;  so 
that  though  God  doth  it,  the  fault  is  in  ourselves."  * 
If  we  have  been  sorely  tried  and  severely  exer- 
cised, our  trials  should  read  us  a  lesson  upon  the 
evil  of  our  nature.  Let  us  exclaim  with  that  long 
afflicted  saint,  Mr.  Eogers,  "We  that  have  tasted 
so  much  of  his  displeasure  have  cause  to  rejoice 
with  trembling ;  every  remembrance  of  that  dole- 
ful time  must  be  to  us  a  new  motive  to  obedience, 
and  a  powerful  restraint  of  sin  ;  he  chastens  us  for 
our  profit,  that  we  might  be  partakers  of  his  holi- 
.ness.  Oh,  what  an  abundance  of  folly  must  there 
have  been  lodged  in  our  hearts  that  God  is  forced 
to  use  so  sharp  and  so  severe  a  method  to  whip 
it  out !  How  benumbed  were  we,  that  nothing 
else  could  awaken  us !  How  diseased,  that  noth- 
ing but  a  potion  so  bitter  could  promote  our  cure  ! 
How  great  was  our  pride,  that  he  was  forced  to 
beat  it  down  by  so  violent  a  stroke  !  It  must  have 
been  like  the  pride  of  Israel,  to  whom  he  saith. 
He  led  thee  through  that  great  and  terrible  wilder- 
ness, wherein  were  fiery  serpents,  and  scorj^ions, 
and  drought,  where  there  was  no  water  ;  that 
he  might  humble  thee,  and  prove  thee,  to  do  thee 
good  in  thy  latter  end." 

*  SouVs  Implantation,  by  T.  Hooker. 


CAUSES   OF  APPARENT   DESERTION.  389 

5.  Our  Lord  Jesus  designs  also  to  try  our  faith 
He  will  see  wlietlier  we  can  trust  him  or  no. 
When  we  see  him  by  sensible  enjoyment  there 
is  not  that  space  for  faith  which  his  absence  causes ; 
and  J  moreover,  to  believe  what  we  feel  to  be  true 
is  no  hard  matter,  but  to  credit  what  present 
experience  appears  to  contradict  is  a  divine  act 
which  is  most  honourable  to  the  grace  which 
enables  us  to  doit.  Our  faith  is  the  centre  of  the 
target  at  which  God  doth  shoot  when  he  tries  us, 
and  if  any  other  grace  shall  escape  untried,  cer- 
tainly faith  shall  not.  There  is  no  way  of  piercing 
faith  to  its  very  marrow  like  the  sticking  of  the 
arrow  of  desertion  in  it ;  this  finds  it  out  whether 
it  be  of  the  immortals  or  no.  Strip  it  of  its  armour 
of  conscious  enjoyment,  and  sufi*er  the  terrors  of 
the  Lord  to  set  themselves  in  array  against  it,  and 
that  is  faith  indeed  which  can  escape  unhurt  from 
the  midst  of  the  attack.  Faith  must  be  tried,  and 
desertion  is  the  furnace,  heated  seven  times,  into 
which  it  must  be  thrust.  Blest  is  the  man  who  can 
endure  the  ordeal. 

6.  A  temporary  withdrawal  endears  Christ  to  us 
upon  his  return,  and  gives  the  soul  some  idea  of  the 
infinite  value  of  his  smile.  Constant  enjoyment  of 
any  good  thing  is  too  much  for  our  corrupt  natures. 
Israel  loathed  the  angel's  food,  and  sighed  for  the 
meaner  fare  of  Egypt — the  garlic  and  the  onions ; 
but  if  the  manna  had  been  stayed,  how  eagerly 


390  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   6AVI0UE. 

would  thej  have  clamoured  for  its  restoration! 
When  rain  falls  in  its  needed  season  we  scarcely 
stay  to  return  thanks  for  the  boon ;  but  if  it  be 
withheld,  how  do  we  bless  the  drops  and  thank  the 
God  of  heaven  for  them.  Sunlight  is  never  more 
grateful  than  after  a  long  watch  in  the  midnight 
blackness ;  Christ's  presence  is  never  more  accepta- 
ble than  after  a  time  of  weeping,  on  account  of  his 
departure.  It  is  a  sad  thing  that  we  should  need 
to  lose  our  mercies  to  teach  us  to  be  grateful  for 
them ;  let  us  mourn  over  this  crookedness  of  our 
nature ;  and  let  us  strive  to  express  our  thankful- 
ness for  mercies,  so  that  we  may  not  have  to  lament 
their  removal.  Let  us  deal  courteously,  tenderly, 
obediently,  and  affectionately,  with  our  glorious 
Lord,  and  it  may  be  we  shall  retain  him  as  a  con- 
stant guest. 

7.  This  also  whets  our  ajopetite  /br  heaven,  and 
makes  us  thirst  for  the  land  of  bliss.  The  world 
has  a  fascinating  power  which  constrains  us  to  love 
it,  if  all  be  well ;  but  by  removing  the  light  of  his 
face,  our  Lord  Jesus  breaks  the  S]3ell,  and  delivers 
us  from  the  overweening  love  of  the  creature. 
"Weaning  is  sorrowful  work,  but  it  must  be  done : 
we  must  be  made  to  groan  in  this  body  that  we 
may  be  made  ready  for  the  unclothing,  and  the 
"clothing  upon,"  by  which  mortality  shall  be  swal- 
lowed up  of  life.  In  heaven  they  see  his  face,  and 
his  name  is  in  their  foreheads;   this  incites  the 


CAUSES   OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  391 

saint  to  pant  for  gloiy,  that  lie  may  obtain  uninter- 
rupted fellowsliip  with  Jesus.  O  how  sweet  it 
must  be  to  behold  his  face  without  the  shadow  of 
an  intervening  cloud ;  to  dwell  in  his  house,  and 
go  no  more  out  for  ever ;  to  lean  upon  his  bosom, 
and  never  rise  from  that  delightful  posture !  In 
our  days  of  song  and  tabret  we  are  still  conscious 
that  there  is  richer  music  in  the  upper  world ;  but 
in  times  of  fasting  and  sighing,  how  do  we  cry  out 
for  the  living  God,  and  pant  to  appear  before  him. 
"  God's  house  is  an  hospital  at  one  end,  and  a 
palace  at  the  other.  In  the  hospital  end  are 
Christ's  members  upon  earth,  conflicting  with 
various  diseases,  and  confined  to  strict  regimen  of 
his  appointing.  What  sort  of  a  patient  would  he 
be,  who  would  be  sorry  to  be  told  that  the  hour  is 
come  for  his  dismission  from  the  hospital,  and 
to  see  the  doors  thrown  wide  open  for  his  admis- 
sion into  the  presence  of  the  King."  ^  Happy  are 
the  spirits  who  have  ended  their  fight  of  faith,  and 
now  live  in  the  raptures  of  a  sight  of  Him ;  yea, 
thrice  happy  are  the  lowest  of  those  seraphs  who 
fly  at  his  bidding,  and  do  for  ever  behold  the  face 
of  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  The  drought  of 
these  dry  plains  stirreth  us  to  desire  the  river  of 
the  water  of  life ;  the  barren  fig-trees  of  this  weary 
land  urge  us  to  pursue  a  speedy  path  to  the  immor- 

*  Adams"s  Private  Thoughts. 


392  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

tal  trees  upon  tlie  banks  of  the  river  of  God ;  our 
clouds  exhort  us  to  fly  above  this  lower  sky  up 
where  unclouded  ages  roll ;  the  very  thorns  and 
briars,  the  dust  and  heat  of  this  world's  pilgrimage 
and  strife,  are  powerful  orators  to  excite  our  high- 
est thoughts  to  the  things  which  are  unseen  and 
eternal.  Thus  the  bitterness  of  time  bids  us 
desire  the  sweetness  of  immortality,  and  even 
prepares  us  for  it. 

In  times  of  distress,  when  the  withdrawal  of 
Christ  is  caused  by  any  of  these  causes,  let  the 
saint  stay  himself  upon  his  God.  The  light  is  a 
pleasant  thing,  but  faith  can  walk  without  it.  It 
is  good  to  have  the  Lord's  presence,  but  let  us 
remember  that  we  are  noLsaved  bj  oiti'  enjoyments 
of  him,  but  by  his  efficacy  for  us.  We  are  full  of 
sin,  and  in  our  distress  we  feel  it,  but  He  is  full  of 
grace  and  truth ;  let  us  believe  His  all-sufficiency, 
and  rest  in  it.  His  blood  not  our  peace,  his  merit 
not  our  comfort,  his  perfection  not  our  commu- 
nion,— are  the  pillars  of  our  salvation.  We  love 
his  company,  and  the  manifest  sense  of  it  is  sweet 
indeed ;  but  if  it  be  denied  us,  nevertheless  "  the 
foundation  of  God  standeth  sure."  Jesus,  the  yea 
and  amen,  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for 
ever.  Our  soul  hangs  upon  him  in  the  thick  dark- 
ness, and  glories  in  him  in  the  storm.  The  pro- 
mise, like  an  anchor,  holds  us  fast ;  and,  though 
tlie  pilot  sleeps,  all  must  be  well.     It  is  not  our  eye 


CAUSES   OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  393 

on  liim  wliich  is  our  great  protection,  but  his  eye 
on  us ;  let  us  be  assured  that  although  wo  cannot 
see  him,  he  can  see  us,  and,  therefore,  we  are  safe. 
Whatever  our  frame  or  feeling,  the  heart  of  Jesus  is 
full  of  love — love  which  was  not  caused  by  our  good 
behaviour,  and  is  not  diminished  by  our  follies — 
love  which  is  as  sure  in  the  night  of  darkness,  as 
in  the  brightness  of  the  day  of  joy.  Therefore  are 
we  confident  and  full  of  hope,  and  we  can  sing 
with  our  favourite  poet — 

"  Away,  despair ;  my  gracious  Lord  doth  hear, 
Though  winds  and  waves  assault  my  keel, 
He  doth  preserve  it ;  he  doth  steer, 
Even  when  the  boat  seems  most  to  reel. 
Storms  are  the  triumph  of  his  art ; 
"Well  may  he  close  his  eyes,  but  not  his  heart."  * 

We  never  live  so  well  as  when  we  live  on  the 
?Lord  Jesus  simply  as  he  is,  and  not  upon  our 
enjoyments  and  raptures.  Faith  is  never  more 
likely  to  increase  in  strength  than  in  times  which 
seem  adverse  to  her.  When  she  is  lightened  of  trust 
in  joys,  experiences,  frames,  feelings,  and  the  like, 
she  rises  the  nearer  heaven,  like  the  balloon  when 
the  bags  of  sand  are  emptied.  Trust  in  thy 
EedeemerV strength,  thou  benighted  soul;  exercise 
what  faith  thou  hast,  and  by-and-by  he  shall  arise 
upon  thee  with  healing  beneath  his  wings. 

*  Herbert. 

17* 


394  THE   SAINT  AND  HIS   SAVIOtJE. 

The  next  and  last  case  has  been  already  alluded 
to  in  the  previous  chapter.  Sin,  with  its  hosts, 
closes  the  rear.  We  do  not  intend  to  do  more 
than  instance  the  special  iniquities  which  more 
readily  than  any  other  will  cause  the  Master  to  be 
gone. 

8.  Gross  and  foul  offences  of  any  kind  will  drive 
the  King  from  the  soul  very  speedily.  Let  the 
believer  bemire  himself  with  lust,  or  put  forth  his 
hand  unto  violence,  or  speak  lying  or  lascivious 
words — let  him  give  great  and  scandalous  cause  to 
the  enemy  to  blaspheme — and,  as  surely  as  he  is 
the  Lord's  child,  his  back  shall  smart  for  it.  If  we 
lie  in  the  bed  of  Jezebel,  we  shall  not  have  the 
company  of  Jesus  there.  As  soon  expect  to  see 
an  angel  in  the  stye  with  swine,  as  Christ  Jesus  in 
company  with  the  filthy.  Should  we  be  left  to 
commit  adultery  like  David,  we  shall  have  our 
bones  broken  as  he  had ;  if  we  swear  like  Peter, 
we  shall  have  to  weep  as  bitterly  as  he  ;  and  if  we 
flee  like  Jonah  from  the  service  of  the  Lord,  we 
may  expect  to  go  into  as  great  depths  as  he  did. 
The  sun  will  shine  on  the  dunghill,  but  Christ  will 
not  shine  on  the  back-slider  while  he  is  indulging 
in  his  lusts.  How  terrible  are  the  agonies  of  the 
mind  when  some  surprising  sin  is  visited  upon  ns ! 
In  an  ancient  work,  as  rare  as  its  own  merits,  we 
find  the  following : — 

"  For  he  withdraweth  his  face  and  favour  from 


CAUSES    OF   APPARENT    DESEETION.  395 

US,  kindletli  liis  anger  against  ns,  and  counteth  us 
as  liis  enemies  ;'^  the  liorror  of  his  wrath  is  as  fire 
sent  from  above  into  our  bones,  and  is  as  the 
arrows  of  the  Ahnighty,  the  venom  whereof  drink- 
eth  up  our  sj)irit.  He  setteth  our  iniquities  before 
himself,  and  oar  secret  sins  in  the  light  of  his 
countenance  ;f  he  setteth  them  also  in  our  own 
sight,  and  our  sin  is  before  us  continually ;:{:  with 
his  hand  he  bindeth  the  yoke  of  our  transgressions, 
and  with  them  being  laid  upon  our  neck  he  maketh 
our  strenth  to  fail  ;§  bitter  things  doth  he  write 
against  us,  and  maketh  us  to  inherit  the  iniquities 
of  our  youth,!  so  that  there  is  nothing  found  in  our' 
fiesh  because  of  his  anger,  neither  is  there  rest  in 
our  bones  because  of  our  sin :  our  wounds  stink 
and  are  corrupt  ;^  our  veins  are  full  of  burning, 
our  heart  is  as  wax ;  it  melteth  in  the  midst  of  our 
bowels ;*"  our  bones  are  parched  like  an  hearth,^ f 
and  our  moisture  is  turned  to  a  summer  drought, 
so  heavy  is  his  hand  upon  us  night  and  day.:}:^ 
Then  cry  we  out  for  grief  of  heart ;  we  roar  like 
bears,  and  mourn  like  doves  ;§§  looking  for  judg- 
ment, but  there  is  none— for  salvation,  but  it  is  far 
from  us ;  because  our  trespasses  are  many,  both 

*  Job  xix.  11  f  Ps.  xc.  8. 

X  Ps.  li.  3.  §  Lam.  i.  14. 

II  Job  xiii.  26.  ^  Ps.  xxxviii.  3,  5, 1, 

**  Ps.  xxii.  14.  ft  Ps.  cii.  3. 

XX  Ps-  xxxii.  4.  §§  Isa.  lix.  11,  12. 


396  THE    SAIXT    AND    HIS    SAVIOrE. 

before  him  and  ourselves,  for  which  his  terrors  do 
fight  against  tis,  he  visiteth  us  every  morning,* 
and  trjeth  us  every  moment ;  ^etteth  us  as  a  mark 
against  him,  so  that  vre  are  a  burden  to  ourselves. 
Also,  when  we  cry  and  shout,  he  shutteth  out  our 
prayer,f  and  is  even  angry  against  it,:!:  because  our 
iniquities  have  separated  between  us  and  him,  and 
our  sins  have  hid  his  face  from  us,  that  he  will  not 
hear;§  so  loathsome  are  our  trespasses  unto  him,  so 
venomous  to  ourselves  is  the  bitino^  of  those  fierce 
serpents." 

Careless  living,  even  if  we  fall  not  into  open 
transgression,  will  soon  build  a  wall  between  our 
Lord  and  the  soul.  If  daily  sins  are  unconfessed 
and  unrepented  of,  they  will  daily  accumulate 
until  they  form  "mountains  of  division  "  between 
our  adorable  Friend  and  our  own  heart.  A  little 
filth  acquired  every  day,  if  it  be  left  unwashed, 
will  make  us  as  black  as  if  we  had  been  plunged 
in  the  mire  ;  and  as  sin  upon  the  conscience  turns 
Christ's  joy  out  of  the  heart,  it  will  be  imj)ossible 
for  us  to  feel  the  delights  of  communion  until  all 
our  everyday  sins  have  been  washed  from  the  con- 
science by  a  fresh  application  of  the  atoning  blood. 
Let  us  take  heed  that  we  oflfer  the  mornino;  and 
evening  lamb,  constantly  looking  to  the  blood  of 

*  Job  vii.  18.  f  Lam.  iii.  8. 

X  Ps.  Ixxx.  4.  §  Isa.  Ux.  2. 


CAUSES   OF   APrARENT   DESERTION.  397 

the  Great  Sacrifice,  and  seeking  a  fresh  discovery 
of  its  cleansing  power. 

Neglect  of  grayer  is  a  sad  grief  to  the  II0I7 
Spirit,  and  will  as  soon  cause  the  Lord  to  withdraw 
as  open  sin.  How  many  of  us  from  this  cause 
have  dropped  the  thread  of  communion,  and  so 
have  lost  the  clue  to  happiness.  Jesus  will  never 
reveal  himself  in  any  marked  manner  unto  us  while 
we  neglect  the  throne  of  grace.  We  must  seclude 
ourselves  if  we  would  see  our  Beloved.  It  was  a 
sweet  saying  of  Bernard,  ''  O  saint,  knowest  thou 
not  that  thy  husband,  Christ,  is  bashful,  and  will 
not  be  familiar  in  company?  retire  thyself  by 
meditation  into  thy  closet,  or  into  the  fields,  and 
there  thou  shalt  have  Christ's  embraces."  Kebekah 
went  to  the  well,  and  was  met  by  one  who  gave 
her  jewels  of  gold,  and  found  her  a  husband  ;  let  us 
go  to  the  well  of  prayer,  and  we  shall  meet  Jesus, 
but  those  who  tarry  at  home  shall  lack. 

Idleness  in  the  ways  of  grace  will  also  hinder 
communion.  If  we  travel  slowly,  and  loiter  on  the 
road,  Jesus  will  go  on  before  us,  and  sin  will  over- 
take us.  If  we  are  dilatory  and  lazy  in  the  vine- 
yard, the  Master  will  not  smile  on  us  when  he 
walks  through  his  garden.  Be  active,  and  expect 
Christ  to  be  with  thee  ;  be  idle,  and  the  thorns 
and  briars  will  grow  so  thickly,  that  he  will  be 
shut  out  of  thy  door.  We  should  never  mend  our 
pace  on  Heaven's  road  if  our  comforts  did  not  fly 


398  THE    SAINT    AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

ahead  of  ns,  so  as  to  allure  us  to  speed,  by  com- 
pelling us  to  pursue  them. 

Unthanhfulness  will  soon  strip  us  of  our  joys. 
It  is  said  of  the  sun,  that  none  look  at  him  except 
he  be  in  an  eclipse  ;  and  we  fear  we  are  all  too 
forgetful  of  Christ  unless  he  veil  his  face  :  there- 
fore, to  chasten  us  for  our  ill  manners,  and  incite 
us  to  a  more  loving  carriage  towards  him,  he  will 
hide  himself  in  darkness  if  we  forget  his  good- 
ness. 

Cowardice  will  also  rob  us  of  the  Master's  mani- 
fest presence.  The  ancient  saints  who  at  any  time, 
in  order  to  avoid  the  stake,  were  led  through 
weakness  to  deny  their  profession,  were  made 
sorely  to  rue  the  day  that  they  ever  did  so  weak  a 
deed.  And  we,  if  we  are  ashamed  of  him  in  the 
time  of  rebuke  and  reproach,  must  not  look  for  any 
love-feasts  with  him.  Captains  cannot  smile  on 
runaway  soldiers,  or  even  on  men  who  qtiake  in 
the  moment  of  conflict.  We  must  be  valorous  if 
we  would  be  comforted ;  we  must  show  ourselves 
men  if  we  would  have  Christ  show  himself  our 
loving  friend.  "When  Jonah  runs  from  l^ineveh 
he  must  not  reckon  ujDon  his  Lord's  company, 
except  it  be  to  rebuke  and  smite  him.  "  In  our 
English  chronicles  we  read  of  the  rare  aifection  of 
Eleanor,  the  wife  of  Edward  I.,  who,  when  the 
king  had  been  wounded  with  a  poisoned  dagger, 
set  her  mouth  to  the  wound  to  suck  out  the  poison. 


CAUSES    OF    APPARENT   DESERTION.  399 

ventiiriDg  her  own  life  to  preserve  lier  husband. 
Such  is  the  strengh  of  love  in  a  healthy  Christian, 
that  were  it  necessary  to  suck  poison  out  of  the 
wounds  of  Jesus,  he  would  be  content  to  do  so." 
And  this  he  will  do  in  a  spiritual  sense,  for  if  he 
can  in  no  other  way  remove  contempt  and  slander 
from  the  cause  of  Christ  and  his  church,  he  will 
rather  bear  it  himself  than  allow  it  to  fall  on  his 
Master.  But  if  this  noble  spirit  shall  give  place  to 
mean  self-seeking,  and  carnal  care  of  our  personal 
interests,  the  Lord  will  forsake  the  tabernacle 
where  we  dwell,  and  leave  us  to  mourn  the  dis- 
pleasure of  our  slighted  friend. 
X  Harshness  to  the  afflicted  may  bring  us  into  deep 
waters.  If  the  strong  cattle  push  the  weak  with 
their  horns,  and  thrust  with  the  shoulder,  they 
^  must  have  the  fatness  of  their  strength  removed, 
and  the  glory  of  their  horns  cut  off,  that  they  may 
learn  to  deal  gently  with  the  tender-hearted  and 
timid.  When  we  hear  a  strong  professor  dealing 
roughly  with  any  of  the  Lord's  afflicted,  as  sure  as 
he  is  an  heir  heaven  he  will  in  due  time  have  cause 
to  eat  his  words.  That  is  an  unhumbled  heart 
which  can  allow  hard  thoughts  concerning  the 
little  ones  ;  and  God  will  put  that  proud  spirit  into 
the  dark  until  it  can  bear  the  infirmities  of  the 
weak.  Be  gentle,  ye  great  in  Zion,  lest  ye  offend 
the  poor  and  mean  of  the  congregation. 
^,_  Pride  casts  a  thick  shadow  over  the  path  of  any 


400  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    8AVI0TJE. 

believer  wlio  indulges  in  it.  Men  love  not  the 
proud — their  company  is  a  torment,  and  their  very 
presence  an  offence  ;  how  much  more  obnoxious 
must  it  be  to  the  Son  of  God  !  Especially  must  it 
be  exceeding  hateful  in  those  who  are  indebted  to 
grace  for  the  very  breath  in  their  nostrils,  and  who, 
in  themselves,  are  the  most  detestable  of  creatures, 
but  are  made  the  sons  of  God  through  great  and 
unmerited  mercy.  When  we  become  conceited 
with  our  choice  experiences,  admirable  emotions, 
and  marvellous  discoveries,  and  in  our  imaginary 
greatness  grow  unmindful  of  the  Giver  of  these 
good  gifts,  he  will  soon  level  us  with  the  ground, 
and  make  us  groan  out  of  the  dust.  The  smoke  of 
the  incense  of  our  pride  will  blind  the  eyes  to 
Christ,  and  hide  Christ  from  the  saint. 

Idolatrous  love^  whatever  may  be  the  object  of 
it,  is  so  abominable,  that  it  will  shut  out  the  light 
of  God's  countenance  in  a  short  space,  unless  it  be 
destroyed.  Eivals  Jesus  will  not  endure;  and 
unless  we  give  him  the  highest  throne  he  will  leave 
us  to  mourn  his  absence.  Love  not  thy  wealth, 
thy  name,  thy  friends,  thy  life,  thy  comfort,  thy 
husband,  thy  wife,  or  thy  children,  more  than  thou 
lovest  him,  or  even  so  much  ;  for  he  will  either 
take  them  from  thee,  or  else  his  own  delightful 
presence,  and  the  loss  of  either  would  be  an  evil 
not  worth  the  idolatry  which  will  surely  engender 
it.     Set  not  your  affections  on  things  of  earth,  lest 


CAUSES    OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  401 

the  comfortable  enjoyment  of  Him  who  is  from 
above  should  be  withdrawn  from  thee. 

Unlelief^  distrust^  and  worldly  care^  wall  also 
provoke  him  to  return  unto  his  place.  If  we  can- 
not trust  him  with  ourselves,  and  all  that  we  have, 
he  will  not  confide  his  heart  with  us.  A  fit  of 
worldly  anxiety  has  many  a  time  cut  ofi*  the 
streams  of  fellowship.  Fretful  trouble  about  many 
things  is  a  fearful  injury  to  the  one  thing.  All  the 
saints  will  confess  that  the  fair  flower  of  fellowship 
Avill  not  bloom  in  the  atmosphere  of  carking  care. 
That  great  rebel,  Infidelity,  will  sometimes  turn 
the  key  of  the  gates  of  Mansoul  against  the  Prince 
Immanuel  himself,  and  cause  him  to  return  to  the 
palace  of  his  Fatlier.  It  is  a  high  afi"ront  put  upon 
the  Lord  Jesus  when  we  presume  to  manage  our 
own  business  instead  of  leaving  all  with  him.  The 
old  puritan  said,  "  Whenever  we  carve  for  our- 
selves we  cut  our  own  fingers  !"  He  might  have 
added,  "  And  worse  still,  we  highly  affront  the 
Head  of  the  feast,  and  cause  him  to  withdraw  from 
the  table."  Oh !  for  grace  to  leave  all  with 
Christ ;  it  cannot  be  in  better  hands,  and  our  own 
care  could  never  produce  results  which  could  for 
an  instant  be  compared  with  the  effects  of  his  pro- 
vidential consideration. 

.  But  earned  security  is  the  master-sin  in  this 
point.  Hence,  Bunyan  makes  a  feast  in  the  house 
of  that  deceitful  old  Diabolian,  Mr.  Carnal-Secm-ity, 


402  THE    SAINT    AXD    HIS   SAVIOUR. 

the  scene  of  the  discovorv  of  the  departure  of 
Frince  Iiiiuiaiuiol.  There  is  in  carnal  security  a 
mixture  of  all  other  kinds  of  sin.  It  is  a  monster 
composed  of  the  deformities  of  all  the  foul  sins 
which  man  can  commit.  It  is  ingratitudcj  pride, 
worldliness,  sloth,  inordinate  atfection,  evil  con- 
cupiscence and  rebellion  in  one.  It  is  like  those 
fabled  monsters  which  bore  a  resemblance  to  everj 
other  creature,  inasmuch  as  the  most  terrible  parts 
of  every  beast  were  in  them  united  into  one  hideous 
monstrosity.  ISTow  whenever  self-con tidence  grows 
in  the  heart,  and  destroys  our  implicit  dependence 
and  our  unfeigned  humility,  it  will  not  be  long 
before  Christ  and  the  soul  will  be  far  apart — so  far 
as  any  comfortable  communion  is  concerned. 

It  onlv  remains  to  add  that  as  we  are  ditlerently 
constituted,  certain  sins  will  have  greater  power 
over  one  than  another,  and  hence  one  sin  may 
drive  the  Saviour  from  one  believer,  and  an 
opposite  sin  may  grieve  him  in  another ;  indeed, 
any  one  sin,  if  harboured  against  light  and  know- 
ledge, is  quite  sufficient  to  cast  the  mind  into  the 
doleful  condition  of  a  deserted  soul.  Constant 
watchfulness  is  necessary  in  order  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  communion :  but  of  this  we  will  say  more 
in  another  place. 

It  will  be  hard  work  to  sustain  faith  when  sin 
is  arrived  at  such  a  dangerous  height ;  but  in  order 


CAUSES    OF   APPARENT   DESEETION.  403 

that  the  bolicYcr  may  be  able  to  do  so,  by  tlie 
divine  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  let  him  reflect 
that  his  present  mournful  condition  is  no  si:^ 
that  he  is  cast  away — nay,  let  him  believe  it  to  be 
the  very  reverse.  If  the  Lord  Jesus  had  not 
looked  upon  him,  he  would  never  have  known  how 
evil  a  thing  it  is  to  lose  a  sense  of  his  love.  Blind 
men  do  not  miss  the  light  when  it  is  removed 
by  the  setting  of  the  sun  ;  and  if  the  afflicted  soul 
were  wholly  blind,  he  would  not  lament  the  hiding 
of  the  Sun  of  righteousness.  But  if  this  is  too  high 
a  comfort,  let  him  remember  that  there  is  still  a 
fountain  opened .  for  sin  and  for  uncleanness ;  and 
while  he  sorrows  for  his  absent  Lord  let  him  not 
despair,  but  let  him  still  look  to  the  cross,  and 
hope.  Let  the  deserted  one  confess  his  ill-deserv- 
ings,  but  let  him  remember  that  his  sin  is  laid 
upon  the  head  of  Jesus.  Punishment  for  sin  is  not 
in  any  degree  mixed  up  with  the  withdrawal 
which  he  is  now  experiencing.  The  believer  owes 
nothing  to  punitive  justice,  and  therefore  nothing 
can  be  exacted  of  him.  "  Though  the  sufferings 
of  Christ  do  not  secure  us  from  sufferings,  they 
change  the  nature  and  design  of  our  afflictions, 
so  that,  instead  of  their  being  punishments,  they 
are  corrections,  and  are  inflicted  not  by  the  sword 
of  the  Judge,  but  by  the  rod  of  the  Father."  "^    Let 

*  Jay's  Christian  Contemplated. 


4:04:  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

the  believer  hear  the  voice  of  comfort : — "  Thon 
hast  not  a  farthing  of  debt  to  pay  to  God's  law ; 
there  is  no  indictment  against  thee,  nor  a  bill  for 
thee  to  answer — Christ  has  paid  all."  ^  Christ's 
departure  is  not  for  thy  death,  but  to  promote  thy 
better  life.  He  is  not  gone  to  demand  a  writ 
against  thee,  he  is  but  absent  to  make  thee  purge 
out  the  old  leaven,  that  he  may  come  and  keep  the 
feast  with  thee. 

Kemember  also  that  a  change  in  the  outward 
dealings  of  the  Lord  Jesus  is  not  to  be  looked 
upon  as  an  alteration  in  his  love.  He  has  as 
much  affection  for  us  when  he  puts  us  in  the 
prison-house  of  desertion  as  when  he  leads  us 
into  the  pavilion  of  communion.  Immutability 
will  not  allow  of  the  shadow  of  a  turning ;  and 
as  immutability  is  stamped  as  much  upon  the 
aft'ection  of  Christ  as  upon  his  divinity  itself,  it 
follows  that  our  variable  condition  produces  no 
change  in  him. 

"  Immutable  his  will ; 

Though  dark  may  be  my  frame, 
His  loving  heart  is  still 

Unchangeably  the  same. 
My  soul  through  many  changes  goes  ; 
His  love  no  variation  knows," 

That  holy  martyr,  Master  John  Bradford,  thus 

*  CoUing's  Cordial  for  a  Dying  Soul. 


CAUSES   OF  APPARENT   DESERTION.  405 

comforted  Mmself  and  his  friends  in  a  time  of 
gloom — ^^  The  mother  sometimes  beateth  the  child, 
but  yet  her  heart  melteth  upon  it  even  in  the  very 
beating  ;  and  therefore  she  castefli  the  rod  into  the 
fire,  and  calleth  the  child,  giveth  it  an  apple,  and 
dandleth  it  most  motherly.  And  to  say  the  truth, 
the  love  of  mothers  to  their  children  is  but  a  trace 
to  train  us  up  to  behold  the  love  of  God  towards 
us;  and  therefore  saith  he,  *Can  a  mother  forget 
the  child  of  her  womb  V  as  much  as  to  say,  '  E'o, 
but  if  she  should  do  so,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee, 
saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts.'  Ah,  comfortable  saying ! 
— ^I  will  not  forget  thee." 

"Wait  awhile,  and  the  light  w^hich  is  sown  for  the 
righteous  shall  bring  forth  a  harvest  of  delights; 
but  water  the  ground  with  the  tears  of  thy  repent- 
ance, lest  the  seed  should  long  tarry  under  the 
clods.  As  sure  as  thou  art  a  quickened  soul  thou 
wilt,  in  the  dreary  winter  of  thy  Lord's  absence, 
j)ant  for  renewed  communion ;  and  be  thou  sure  to 
use  all  means  to  obtain  this  boon.  Do  as  thou 
didst  when  thou  didst  first  come  to  Christ.  Read 
and  practise  the  directions  given  to  the  seeking 
sinner  in  the  third  chapter,"^  for  they  are  well- 
adapted  to  thine  own  case,  and  then  take  the  advice 
which  follows : — 

1.  Hunt  out  and  slay  the  sin  which  has  caused 

*  See  p.  142. 


406  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

the  coolness  of  fellowship  between  thee  and  thy 
Lord. 

2.  Most  humbly  confess  this  sin,  and  ask  grace 
to  avoid  it  in  future. 

3.  Come  again  as  a  poor  guilty  sinner  to  the 
cross  of  Christ,  and  put  thy  trust  implicitly  in  him 
who  died  ujDon  it. 

4.  Use  thy  closet  and  thy  Bible  more  frequently, 
and  with  more  earnestness. 

5.  Be  active  in  serving  Christ,  and  patient  in 
waiting  for  him,  and  ere  long  he  will  appear  to 
cheer  thy  spirit  with  floods  of  his  surpassing  love. 
If  all  these  fail  thee,  tarry  the  leisure  of  thy 
Master,  and  thy  work  shall  certainly  be  rewarded 
in  due  time. 

.  May  God  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  his  divine  influence, 
bojiew  with  grace  the  pages  of  this  chapter,  that 
they  may  minister  grace  to  the  afflicted  reader. 


TO  THE  unco:nyerted  readek. 


Sinner,  we  beseech  tliee  listen  to  the  warnings 
of  one*  who  was  for  a  long  time  sad  and  sick  on 
account  of  the  hidings  of  his  Lord's  face.  He 
was  a  true  and  eminent  saint,  yet  mark  his  sor- 
sows,  and  let  them  awaken  thee  to  fear  the  wrath 
to  come : 

"  Oh,  sinners  !  I  have  dearly  paid  for  all  the 
delight  I  once  had  in  sin — for  all  my  indifference 
and  lukewarmness,  my  cold  and  sluggish  prayers, 
my  lost  and  misimproved  time.  Beware  that  you 
do  not  provoke  him,  for  he  is  a  jealous  God  ;  for 
if  you  do,  you  shall  also  find  that  those  sins  which 
you  make  a  slight  matter  of,  will  tear  you  to  pieces 
hereafter.  You  will  find  them,  when  your  con- 
sciences are  awakened,  to  be  a  heavy  and  intolera- 
ble burden ;  they  will  press  you  down  to  hell 
itself.     I   could  not  have  thought  that   the   dis- 


*  Rev.  Timothy  Rogers,  M.A. 

40T 


4:08  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUR. 

pleasure  of  God  had  been  a  thing  so  bitter,  and  so 
very  dreadfuL  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  fall  i7ito 
the  hands  of  the  living  God^for  he  is  a  consuming 
fire  :  if  his  anger  be  kindled  but  a  little,  you  can- 
not then  fix  your  mind  upon  any  pleasant  objects, 
nor  have  one  easy  thought ;  you  cannot  then  go 
about  your  business,  your  trade,  or  your  secular 
affairs,  for  your  souls  will  be  so  much  amazed  that 
you  will  be  full  of  horror  and  consternation.  Those 
of  us  who  have  felt  the  terrors  of  the  Lord^  do 
most  earnestly  persuade  you  to  forsake  every  sin  ; 
for  if  you  indulge  in  and  love  your  iniquities,  they 
will  set  you  on  fire  round  about.  Oh,  that  you 
did  but  know  what  you  do  when  you  sin !  You 
are  opposing  that  authority  that  will  avenge  itself 
of  all  its  obstinate  opposers ;  you  are  heaping  up 
fuel  for  your  Qwn  destruction ;  you  are  whetting 
that  sword  which  will  enter  into  3^our  bowels  ;  you 
are  preparing  yourselves  for  bitterness  and  trouble  ; 
and  though  God  is  patient  for  awhile,  yet  he  will 
not  always  be  so:  the  shadows  of  the  night  are 
drawing  on,  and  the  doleful  time  will  come  when  all 
your  mirth  will  end  in  tears,  and  all  your  false  con- 
fidence and  your  foolish  hopes  will  expire  and  give 
up  the  ghost.  And  which  of  you  will  live  when 
God  shall  enter  into  judgment  with  you  ?  What 
will  you  do  ?  Where  will  you  go  for  help  when 
he  who  is  your  Maker — he  who  has  v/eighed  your 
actions,  and  observed  your  wanderings,  shall  call 


CAUSES    OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  409 

you  to  give  an  account  of  all  these  things  ?  If 
our  blessed  Lord,  when  he  came  near  Jerusalem, 
lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept,  saying,  Oli^  that 
thou  hadst  hiown,  even  thou  in  this  thy  day,  the 
things  that  helong  unto  thy  peace !  what  cause 
have  we  to  mourn  over  our  fellow-creatures,  whom 
we  see  to  be  in  danger  of  misery,  and,  alas,  they 
know  it  not !  Can  we  see  them  sleeping  on  the 
very  edge  of  ruin,  and  not  be  greatly  troubled  for 
them!  Oh,  poor  sinners,  you  are  now  sleeping, 
but  the  judge  is  at  the  door  i  you  are  rolling  the 
pleasant  morsel  under  your  tongue,  but  it  will  be 
great  vexation  to  you  in  the  end.  How  can  you 
rest  ?  how  can  you  be  quiet  when  you  have  none 
of  your  sins  pardoned  ?  ISTo  comfortable  relation 
to  God  !  no  well-grounded  hope  of  heaven  !  How 
can  you,  with  any  assurance,  go  about  those  things 
that  concern  your  buying,  your  selling,  and  the 
present  life,  when  your  poor  souls,  that  are  of  a 
thousand  times  more  value,  are  neglected  all  the 
w^hile !  "We  have  felt  great  terrors,  inexpressible 
sorrows,  from  an  angry  God,  and  we  would  fain 
persuade  3^ou  not  to  run  upon  the  thick  bosses  of 
his  buckler,  not  to  dare  his  justice,  not  to  despise 
his  threats  as  once  it  was  our  folly  :  but  we  knew 
not  what  we  did.  We  are  come  out  of  great  tribu 
lation,  and  a  fiery  furnace,  and  we  would  fain  per- 
suade you  to  avoid  the  like  danger ;  let  what  we 
have  felt  be  a  cnution  to  you.     It  was  the  desiro 

18 


410  THE    SAINT   AND    HIS    SAYIOUE. 

of  Dives,  in  his  misery,  that  lie  might  leave  it  to 
go  thence  to  warn  his  brethren  lest  they  came  to 
the  same  place  of  torment ;  but  it  could  not  be 
granted.  Some  of  us  here  come  from  the  very 
gates  of  hell  to  warn  you  that  you  may  not  go 
thither — nay,  to  warn  you  that  you  may  never  go 
so  near  it  as  we  did.  We  wish  you  so  well  that 
we  would  not  have  any  of  you  to  feel  so  much  sor- 
row and  grief  as  we  have  felt.  We  were  once 
asleep,  as  you  are ;  we  did  not  imagine  that  terror 
and  desolation  were  so  near  when  they  came  upon 
us ;  and  now,  having  been  overtaken  by  a  storm 
of  wrath,  we  come  to  warn  you  that  we  see  the 
clouds  gather,  that  there  is  a  sound  of  much  rain 
and  of  great  misery,  though  your  eyes  are  so  fixed 
on  things  below,  that  you  see  it  not.  You  must 
speedily  arise  and  seek  for  a  shelter,  as  you  value 
the  salvation  of  your  souls  ;  you  must  not  put  off 
serious  thoughts  for  your  own  safety,  not  for  one 
day,  not  for  one  hour  longer,  lest  it  be  too  late. 
"W"e  were  travellino;  with  as  little  thous^ht  of  dan- 
ger  as  some  of  you,  and  we  fell  among  thieves ; 
they  plundered  of  our  peace  and  comfort,  and  we 
were  even  ready  to  die,  when  that  God,  whose  just 
displeasure  brought  us  low,  was  pleased  to  take 
pity  on  us,  and  to  send  his  Son,  as  the  kind  Sama- 
ritan, to  bind  up  our  wounds  and  to  cheer  our 
hearts  ;  and  we  cannot  be  so  uncharitable  as  not  to 
tell  you,  when  we  see  you  going  the  same  way, 


CAUSES    OF   APPARENT   DESERTION.  411 

fiiat  there  are  robbers  on  the  road,  and  that  if  yon 
do  not  either  return  or  change  your  course  you  will 
smart  for  your  temerity  as  mucli  as  we  have  done. 
We  liave  been  saved  indeed  at  length  from  our 
fears,  as  ly  fire  j  but  we  suffered,  while  they 
remained,  very  great  loss.  Some,  perhaps,  will  be 
Baying  within  themselves,  '  /  shall  see  no  evil^ 
though  I  walk  in  the  imaginations  of  my  own  heart. 
These  things  you  tallc  of  are  the  mere  product  of  a 
melancholy  temper^  that  always  presages  the.  worst 
— that  is  always  frighting  itself  and  others  with 
hlacTc  and  formidalle  ideas  ;  and  seeing  I  am  no 
way  inelinahle  to  that  distemper.,  I  need  not  fear 
any  such  perplexing  thoughts?  But  know  that  no 
briskness  of  temper,  no  sanguine  courageous  hopes, 
no  jollities  nor  diversions,  can  fence  you  from  the 
wrath  of  God.  If  you  go  on  in  sin,  you  must  feel 
the  bitterness  of  it  either  in  this  or  the  next  world ; 
and  that  may,  notwithstanding  all  the  strength  of 
your  constitution,  all  the  pleasures  of  your  unfear- 
ing  youth,  come  upon  a  sudden.  Your  souls  are 
always  naked  and  open  before  God,  and  he  can 
make  terrible  impressions  of  wrath  there  when  he 
will,  though  by  your  cheerfulness  and  mirth  you 
seem  to  be  at  the  greatest  distance  from  it." 

"  Ye  bold,  blaspheming  souls, 

Whose  conscience  nothing  scares ; 
Ye  carnal,  cold,  professing  fools. 
Whose  state's  as  bad  as  theirs. 


4:12  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    SAYIOrR. 

"  Kepent,  or  you're  undone, 

And  pray  to  God  with  speed  ; 
Perhaps  the  truth  may  yet  be  known, 
And  make  you  free  indeed. 

"  The  hour  of  death  draws  nigh, 
'Tis  time  to  drop  the  mask  ; 
Fall  at  the  feet  of  Christ  and  cry ; . 
He  gives  to  all  that  ask." 


XII. 

COMMUNION   PKESERVED, 


But  they  constrained  him,  saying,  Abide  with  us,  for  it  is  tosvard 
evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent." — Luke  xxiv.  29. 


These  disciples  knew  not  their  Lord,  but  they 
loved  the  unknown  stranger  who  spake  so  sweetly 
of  him.  Blessed  are  the  men  who  discourse  of 
Jesus ;  they  shall  ever  find  a  welcome  in  the  hearts 
and  homes  of  the  elect.  His  name  to  our  ears  is 
ever  melodious,  and  we  love  that  conversation  best 
which  is  fullest  of  it.  We  would  willingly  afford 
the  chamber  on  the  wall,  the  table,  the  stool,  and 
the  candlestick,  to  all  those  who  will  talk  conti- 
nually of  Him.  But,  alas !  there  are  too  many 
who  would  blush  to  answer  our  Saviour's  question, 
"  "What  manner  of  communications  are  these  that 
ye  have  one  to  another?"*  Too  great  a  numb^^r 
of   professors  forget  the  words   of   the   prophet, 

*  Luke  xxiv.  lY. 

418 


414:  THE    SAINT   AND   HIS    SAYIOTJK. 

"  Then  they  that  feared  the  Lord  spake  often  one 
to  another :  and  the  Lord  hearkened  and  heard  it, 
and  a  book  of  remembrance  was  written  before 
him  for  them  that  feared  the  Lord,  and  that  thought 
npon  his  name.  And  they  shall  be  mine,  saith  the 
Lord  of  hosts,  in  that  day  when  I  make  up  my 
jewels;  and  I  will  spare  them  as  a  man  spareth 
his  own  son  that  serveth  him."^  We  will  not  be 
censorious,  but  we  believe  with  an  old  author,  that 
"  the  metal  of  the  bell  is  known  by  the  sound  of 
the  clapper ;  what  is  in  the  well  will  be  found  in 
■■  the  bucket ;  what  is  in  the  warehouse  will  be 
shown  in  the  shop ;  and  what  is  in  the  heart  will  be 
bubbling  forth  at  the  mouth." 

"We  often  miss  our  Lord's  company,  because  our 
conversation  does  not  please  him.  When  our 
Beloved  goes  down  into  his  garden,  it  is  to  feed 
there  and  gather  lilies  ;t  but  if  thorns  and  nettles 
are  the  only  products  of  the  soil,  he  will  soon  be 
away  to  the  true  beds  of  spices.  When  two  walk 
together,  and  are  agreed  in  solemn  discourse  con- 
cerning heavenly  things,  Jesus  will  soon  make  a 
third.  So  here,  on  this  journey  to  Emmaus,  the 
Saviour,  though  they  "  knew  him  not,  because 
their  eyes  were  holden,"  did  so  wondrously  con- 
verse with  them,  that  their  "hearts  burned  within 
them."     He  who  would  stay  a  man  in  the  street 

*  Mai.  iii.  16,  lY.  f  Cant.  vi.  2. 


COMMUNION   PRESERVED.  415 

would  naturally  call  out  his  name;  and  he  who 
would  bring  Jesus  into  his  soul  must  frequently 
pronounce  his  charming  name. 

The  Lord  having  graciously  conversed  with 
these  favoured  travellers,  essays  to  leave  them, 
and  continue  his  journey,  but  they  constrain  him 
to  remain,  and  at  their  earnest  suit  he  does  so. 
From  this  pleasing  little  incident  lot  us  glean  one 
or  two  lessons. 

I.  When  we  have  the  Saviour's  company  for  a 
little  while^  %oe  shall  not  he  content  until  we  have 
more  of  it.  These  holy  men  were  not  content  to 
let  him  go,  but  would  have  him  tarry  with  them  all 
night.  There  are  certain  liquors  which  men  drink 
that  are  said  to  increase  thirst ;  it  is  most  true  of 
this  rich  "  wine  on  the  lees,"  that  the  more  we 
drink  of  it  the  more  we  desire.  ]^or  will  the 
draught  be  forbidden  us,  or  prove  in  any  way 
injurious,  for  the  spouse  bids  us  *'  drink,  yea,  drink 
abundantly."  The  soul  which  has  enjoyed  commu- 
nion with  Jesus  will  never  agree  that  it  has  dwelt 
long  enough  on  the  mount:  it  will  far  rather  build 
a  tabernacle  for  itself  and  its  master.  E'ever  is  a 
Christian  tired  of  his  Redeemer's  society,  but,  like 
Abraham,  he  cries,  "My  Lord,  if  now  I  have 
found  favour  in  thy  sight,  pass  not  away,  I  pray 
thee,  from  thy  servant."  Any  plea  will  be  urged 
to  persuade  our  Lord  to  remain.     Is  it  evening  ? 


416  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUIL 

we  will  plead  that  tlie  day  is  far  spent,  and  we 
shall  need  him  to  cheer  onr  midnight  hours.  Is  it 
morning  ?  we  will  tell  him  that  we  fear  to  begin 
the  day  without  a  long  visit  from  him.  Is  it  noon  ? 
we  will  urge  that  the  sun  is  hot,  and  we  shall  faint 
unless  he  allows  us  to  sit  beneath  his  shadow.  We 
will  always  find  some  reason  for  his  remaining,  for 
love's  logic  is  inexhaustible.  If  he  would  become 
our  constant  guest  we  should  never  weary  of  his 
company.  A  thousand  years  would  seem  but  as 
one  day  if  all  the  time  we  might  lay  our  head  upon 
his  bosom  ;  yea,  eternity  itself  shall  need  no  other 
source  of  joy  since  this  perennial  stream  is  ever 
running.  When  our  wondering  eyes  have  admired 
the  beauties  of  our  Saviour  for  millions  of  years 
we  shall  be  quite  as  willing  to  continue  the  medita- 
tion, supremely  blest  with  that  Heaven  which  our 
eyes  shall  drink  in  from  his  wounded  hands  and 
side.  The  marrow  of  heaven  is  Jesus ;  and  as  we 
ehall  never  be  surfeited  with  bliss,  so  we  shall 
never  have  too  much  of  Jesus.  Fresh  glories  are 
discovered  in  him  every  hour;  his  person,  work, 
offices,  character,  affection,  and  relationships,  are 
each  of  them  clusters  of  stars  which  the  eye  of 
contemplation  will  view  with  unutterable  astonish- 
ment as  they  are  in  their  order  revealed  to  the 
mind.  The  saint  who  has  longest  tenanted  the 
mansions  of  glory  will  confess  that  the  presence 
of  the  Saviour  has  not  ceased  to  be  his  bliss,  nor 


COMMUNION   PRESERVED.  417 

has  the  freshness  of  the  pleasure  been  in  the  least 
/  dimmished.  Christ  is  a  flower,  but  lie  fadeth  not ; 
he  is  a  river,  but  he  is  never  dry ;  he  is  a  sun,  but 
he  knoweth  no  eclipse ;  he  is  all  in  all,  but  he  is 
something  more  than  all.  He  that  longs  not  for 
Christ  hath  not  seen  him,  and  by  just  so  much  as 
man  has  tasted  of  the  sweetness  of  Jesus  will  he  be 
hungry  and  thirsty  after  more  of  him.  Men  who 
are  content  with  a  manifestation  once  in  a  month 
will  soon  become  so  dull  that  once  a  year  will  suit 
them ;  but  he  wdio  has  a  visit  from  the  Saviour 
very  frequently  will  be  panting  for  fresh  views  of 
him  every  day — yea,  and  every  hour  of  the  day. 
He  wdll  never  lack  appetite  for  spiritual  things 
who  lives  much  on  them.  The  poor  professor  may 
be  content  with  a  few  of  Christ's  pence  now  and 
then,  but  he  who  is  rich  in  grace  thinks  so  small 
an  income  beneath  his  station,  and  cannot  live 
unless  he  has  golden  gifts  from  the  hand  of  his 
Lord  ;  he  will  covet  earnestly  this  best  of  gifts, 
and  be  a  very  miser  after  the  precious  things  of 
the  cross.  John  Owen,  the  most  sober  of  theolo- 
gians, falls  into  a  perfect  ecstasy  when  touching 
on  this  subject.  In  expounding  Cant.  viii.  6,  7,  he 
gives  us  the  following  glowing  passage  :  ''  The 
intendment  of  what  is  so  loftily  set  out  by  so  niany 
metaphors  in  these  verses  is,  '  I  am  not  able  to 
bear  the  workings  of  my  love  to  thee,  unless  I  may 
always   have   society   and    fellowship  with    thee. 

18* 


4:18  THE   SAINT  AND   HIS   SAVIOITE. 

There  is  no  satisfying  of  mj  love  without  it.  It  is 
as  the  grave,  that  still  says,  Give !  give !  Death 
is  not  satisfied  without  its  prej.  If  it  have  not  all 
it  has  nothing. '^  Let  what  will  happen,  if  death 
hath  not  its  whole  desire  it  hath  nothing  at  alL 
jN'or  can  it  be  withstood  in  its  appointed  season ; 
no  ransom  will  be  taken.  So  is  my  love ;  if  I 
have  thee  not  wholly  I  have  nothing.  Kor  can  all 
the  world  bribe  it  to  a  diversion;  it  will  be  no 
more  turned  aside  than  death  in  its  time.  Alas !  I 
am  not  able  to  bear  my  jealous  thoughts;  I  fear 
thou  dost  not  love  me — that  thou  hast  forsaken  me, 
because  I  know  I  deserve  not  to  be  beloved. 
These  thoughts  are  hard  as  hell ;  they  give  no  rest 
to  my  soul.  If  I  find  not  myself  on  thy  heart  and 
arm,  I  am  as  one  that  lies  down  in  a  led  of 
coalsP  The  absence  of  the  Saviour  deprives  the 
believer  of  more  than  joy  or  light;  it  seems  to 
destroy  his  very  life,  and  sap  the  foundations  of  his 
being.  Let  us  seek  then  to  hold  the  king  in  his 
galleries. 

II.  We  remark,  in  the  next  place,  that  if  we 
would  keejy  the  Saviour  with  us,  we  must  constrain 
him.  Jesus  will  not  tarry  if  he  is  not  pressed  to  do 
so.  •  Not  that  he  is  ever  weary  of  his  people,  but 
because  he  would  have  them  show  their  sense  of 
his  value.  In  the  case  before  us,  it  is  said,  "  he 
made  as  if  he  would  go  further."     This  he  did  to 


COMMUNION  PEESERVED.  419 

,rj  their  affection.     "  Not,"  says  Ness,  ''  that  he 
had  any  purpose  to  depart  from  them,  hut  to  prove 
them,  how  they  prized  him,  and  accounted  of  his 
company.     Therefore  this  ought  not  to  be  misim- 
proved  to  countenance  any  kind  of  sinful  dissimu- 
ation.      If  Solomon   might   make   as   though   he 
would  do  an  act  that  in  its  own  nature  was  unlaw- 
ful (to  slay  an  innocent  child),*  sure  I  am  our 
Saviour  might  do  that  which  is  but  indifferent  in 
itself  (whether  to  go  or  stay)  without  being  charged 
with   the  sin  of  dissembling.      But  when   Christ 
makes  to  be  gone,  the  two  disciples  would  not  let 
him  go,  but  one  (as  it  were)  gets  hold  on  one  arm, 
and  the  other  on  the  other ;  there  they  hang  till 
they  constrain  him  to  continue  with  them."     These 
were  wise  men,  and  were,  therefore,  loath  to  part 
with  a  fellow-traveller  from  whom  they  could  learn 
so  much.      If  we  are  ever  privileged  to  receive 
Jesus  under  our  roof,  let  us  make  haste  to  secure 
the  door  that  he  may  not  soon  be  gone.     If  he  sees 
us  careless  concerning  him,  and  cold  towards  him, 
he  will  soon  arise  and  go  hence.     He  will  not  in- 
trude himself  where  he  is  not  wanted ;  he  needs  no 
lodging,  for  the  heaven  of  heavens  is  his  perpetual 
palace,' and  there  be  many  hearts  of  the  contrite 
where  he  will  find  a  hearty  welcome. 

When  we  have  the  honour  of  a  visit  from  Prince 
Immanuel  let  everything  be  done  to  protract  it. 

*   1  Kin^s,  iii.  24. 


420  THE    SAIN^T   AND    HIS    SAVIOUK. 

Angels'  visits  are  few  and  far  between :  when  we 
have  the  happiness  of  meeting  therewith,  let  ns, 
like  Jacob,  manfully  grasp  the  angel,  and  detain 
him,  at  least  until  he  leaves  a  blessing.  Up, 
Christian,  with  a  holy  bravery,  and  lay  hold  on  the 
mercy  while  it  is  within  reach  1  The  Son  of  Man 
loves  those  who  hold  him  tightly.  He  will  not 
resent  the  familiarity,  but  will  approve  of  thine 
earnestness.  Let  the  loving  bride  of  the  Canticles 
teach  thee  by  her  example,  for  she  glories  in  her 
deed  when  she  sings,  ^'  I  found  him  whom  my  soul 
loveth,  I  held  him,  and  I  would  not  let  him  go.'' 
True",  'tis  amazing  grace  which  can  allow  such  a 
liberty  with  the  person  of  so  exalted  a  being ;  but 
seeing  that  he  invites  us  to  lay  hold  on  his  strength, 
and  has  sanctioned  the  act  in  others,  shall  we,  like 
Ahaz,  when  he  declined  to  ask  a  sign,  refuse  the 
favour  which  our  Lord  allows  ?     'No — 

"  We  will  maintain  our  hold ; 
'Tis  liis  goodness  makes  us  bold." 

How  can  we  then  prolong  our  communion  with  the 
Saviour  ?  Let  ns  reply  to  the-  question  by  sundry 
directions,  which,  by  the  aid  of  the  Spirit,  we  will 
labour  to  follow. 

1.  Allow  no  rivals  to  intrude.  Jesus  will  never 
tarry  in  a  divided  heart.  He  must  be  all  or 
nothing.  Search  then  thy  heart;  dethrone  its 
idols;  eject  all  interlopers;  chastise  all  trespassers ; 
yea,  slay  the  Diabolians  who  lurk  in  thy  soul.     If 


COMMUNION   PRESERVED.  421 

we  would  enjoy  uninterrupted  fellowship  with  the 
Son  of  God,  we  must  institute  a  rigid  inquisition 
against  all  kinds  of  sin.  A  little  evil  will  at  times 
mar  our  peace,  just  as  a  small  stone  in  the  shoe  will 
spoil  our  walking.  Tender  are  the  shoots  of  this 
vine  of  communion,  and  little  foxes  will  do  no  little 
injury.  "  The  Lord  thy  God  is  a  jealous  God,"  and 
Jesus  thy  husband  is  jealous  also.  Sorely  did  he 
smite  Jerusalem,  because  she  sought  affinity  with 
other  gods,  and  chose  to  herself  many  lovers.  Keep 
then  thy  house  and  heart  open  to  him,  and  shut  to 
all  others.  With  sin  he  cannot  dwell.  Canst  thou 
expect  the  "angel  of  the  covenant"  to  dwell  with 
the  prince  of  darkness?  Can  there  be  concord 
with  Christ  and  Belial?  Awake  then,  and  cry 
"  Away,  ye  profane,"  my  heart  is  the  temple  of 
Jesus,  and  ye  must  not  defile  its  hallowed  places. 
If  they  retire  not,  get  to  thyself  the  scourge  of  re- 
pentance and  self-mortification,  and  if  it  be  laid  on 
lustily  they  will  not  long  abide  the  blows. 

It  behoves  us  to  remember,  also,  that  there  are 
other  things  besides  sins  which  may  become  ofien- 
sive  to  the  Saviour.  The  nearest  friend,  the  part- 
ner of  our  bosom,  or  the  ofispring  of  our  loins,  may 
excite  the  Lord's  jealousy.  If  these  become  the 
objects  of  an  afi*ection  which  ought  to  be  wholly 
his,  he  will  be  moved  to  anger  with  us.  The  calf 
was  no  less  an  idol  because  it  was  made  of  gold. 
The  brazen  serpent,  despite  its  original  service, 
must  be  broken  when  men  worship  it.     All  things 


4:22  THE   SAINT    AND    HIS    SAVIOUE. 

are  alike  cause  of  jealousy  to  Jesus  if  they  are 
exalted  to  histthrone,  since  no  creature  can  in  the 
least  possess  anything  deserving  of  worship.  The 
very  mention  of  a  rival's  name  will  suffice  to  drive 
our  blessed  Lord  away.  He  will  have  the  name 
of  Baali  taken  utterly  out  of  our  mouth ;  and  he 
alone  must  be  our  Ishi. 

Oh !  true  believer,  is  there  no  strange  god  with 
thee?     Make  a  thorough   search.     Bid  even  thy 
beloved  Rachel  rise,  for  the  teraph  is  often  con- 
cealed beneath  the  place  where  she  sitteth.     Say 
not  in  haste,  I  am  no  idolater.     The  approaches  of 
this  sin  are  insidious  in  the  extreme,  and  ere  thou 
knowest  it  thou  art  entangled  in  its  iron  net.     The 
love  of  the  creature  has  a  bewitching  power  over 
men,  and  they  seldom  know  the  treachery  of  the 
Delilah  until  their  locks  are  shorn.     Oh,  daughters 
of  Zion,  let  King  Solomon  alone  have  your  love ; 
rehearse  his  name  in  your  songs,  and  write  his 
achievements  on  your  memories ;  so  will  he  dwell 
in  the  city  of  David  and  ride  through  your  midst 
in  his  chariot  paved  with  love  for  yoic :  but  if  ye 
pay  homage  to  any  save  himself,  he  will  return 
unto  his  place  and  make  your  beauteous  city  a  by- 
word with  the  enemy.     Have  no  fellowship  with 
strangers,  if  you  desire  manifestations  of  love  from 
the  adorable  Jesns.     "  Let  none  be  your  love  and  . 
choice,  and  the  flower  of  your  delights,  but  your 
Lord  Jesus.     Set  not  your  heart  upon  the  world; 
since  God  hath  not  made  it  your  portion  ;  for  it 


COMMUNION   PRESERVED.  423 

will  not  fall  to  jou  to  get  two  portions,  and  tp  re- 
joice twice,  and  to  be  bappy  twice,  and  to  bave  an 
upper  lieaven  and  an  under  lieaven  too.  Most  of 
us  have  a  lover  and  idol  besides  our  husband^ 
Christ ;  but  it  is  our  folly  to  divide  our  narrow  and 
little  love ;  it  will  not  serve  for  two.  It  is  best 
then  to  hold  it  whole  and  together,  and  to  give  it 
•to  Christ ;  for  then  we  get  double  interest  for  our 
love,  when  we  lend,  it  to,  and  lay  it  out  upon, 
Christ;  and  we  are  sure,  besides,  that  the  stock 
cannot  perish." 

Let  us  muse  on  the  words  of  the  writer  of  The 
Synagogue — 

"Peace,  rebel  thought,  dost  thou  not  know  the  king 

My  God  is  here  ? 
Cannot  his  presence,  if  no  other  thing, 

Make  thee  forbear? 
Or  were  he  absent,  all  the  standers  by 

Are  but  his  spies ; 
And  well  he  knows,  if  thou  shouldst  it  deny, 

Thy  words  were  lies. 
If  others  will  not,  yet  I  must,  and  will, 

Myself  complain. 
My  God,  even  now  a  base,  rebellious  thought 

Began  to  move. 
And  subtly  twining  with  me  would  have  wrought 

Me  from  my  love  : 
Fain  he  would  have  me  to  beUeve  that  Sin  • 

And  thou  might  both 
Take  up  my  heart  together  for  your  inn, 

And  neither  loathe 
The  other's  company;  a  while  sit  still, 

And  part  again." 


424:  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS    SAVIOUE. 

2.  Give  the  Saviour  a  goodly  entertainment,  fit 
for  SO  great  a  prince,  and  thus  he  may  be  persuaded 
to  make  a  longer  stay.  His  rank,  his  honour,  and 
his  benevolence,  entitle  him  to  the  most  respectful 
treatment.  Shall  the  Son  of  God  be  entertained  in 
any  but  the  best  room  of  the  house  ?  Shall  we 
offer  on  his  altar  any  save  the  fattest  of  the  flock 
and  the  herd  ?  Shall  we  spare  ourselves  when  he 
is  our  guest?  Shall  gentlemen  spend  all  their 
estates  that  they  may  sumptuously  feast  an  earthly 
monarch  ?  and  shall  we  penuriously  count  the  cost 
of  our  love  to  him  ?  Beloved,  we  shall  have  but 
brief  glimpses  of  Jesus  if  he  does  not  perceive  our 
souls  affected  by  it.  A  slight  from  his  friends 
grieves  his  spirit,  and  he  withdraws  himself.  We 
ought  to  count  it  a  cheap  bargain  if  we  could  give 
our  all  to  win  the  constant  indwelling  of  Jesus. 
Princes  have  melted  pearls  into  the  wine  where- 
with they  entertained  monarchs,  let  us  do  the 
same.  Let  us  make  rich  offerings  to  Jesus ;  let 
our  duties  be  more  faithfully  discharged,  our 
labours  more  willingly  performed,  and  let  our  zeal 
be  more  eminently  fervent.  If  the  altar  cease  to 
smoke  with  incense,  the  heart  will  be  made  empty 
and  void  by  the  departure  of  its  Lord.  Self- 
sacrifice  is  sweet  to  our  Redeemer,  he  loves  to  see 
his  dearly-purchased  people  confessing  that  they 
are  not  their  own.  Oh,  brethren  in  the  Gospel,  do 
jmore  if  ye  would  receive  more ;  give  more  largely 
and  ye  shall  be  cheered  more  abundantly.     The 


COMMUNION    PKESEKVED.  425 

self-denying  missionary,  the  laborious  pastor,  the 
earnest  evangelist,  and  the  indefatigable  church 
member,  are  generally  the  persons  invited  to  the 
royal  banquets  of  Jesus.  He  delights  to  honour 
the  men  who  wait  at  his  gates  with  diligence,  and 
watch  for  his  coming  with  vigilance.  Faithful  ser 
vice  shall  never  be  unrewarded  by  the  master^ 
notice,  and  continuance  in  well-doing  shall  receive 
as  its  recompence  a  perpetuity  of  approbation. 
Hold  thou  the  Saviour,  oh  believer !  by  hands 
ready  for  service  and  happy  to  obey. 

3.  Trust  the  Lord  much  while  he  is  with  you. 
Keep  no  secrets  from  him.  His  secrets  are  with 
you  ;  let  your  secrets  be  with  him.  Jesus  admires 
confidence,  and  if  it  be  not  afforded  him,  he  will 
say,  "  Farewell,"  until  we  can  trust  him  better.  So 
long  as  We  put  our  lips  to  the  ear  of  Christ,  and 
tell  him  all,  he  will  never  let  us  be  alone.  When 
we  reveal  every  whit,  and  hide  nothing  from  him, 
he  is  pleased  with  us ;  but  when  we  conceal  our 
designs,  om*  troubles,  or  our  fears,  he  frowns  at  our 
want  of  confidence.  If  thou  desirest  Christ  for  a 
perpetual  guest,  give  him  all  the  keys  of  thine 
heart ;  let  not  one  caT)inet  be  locked  up  from  him  ; 
give  him  the  range  of  every  room,  and  the  key 
of  every  chamber ;  thus  you  will  constrain  him 
to  remain.  True  faith  holds  the  feet  of  Jesus  and 
prevents  his  departure  :  when  he  rises  to  continue 
his  journey,  she  cries,  "  ITot  so,  my  Lord,  hear  one 


426  THE  SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUK. 

more  word,  listen  to  the  wants  of  thy  servant,  let 
at  least  another  of  my  griefs  find  a  tomb  in  thy 
^loving  heart.  Listen  to  me  this  once,  for  I  have 
somewhat  to  say  unto  thee  which  so  deeply  con- 
cerns me,  that  if  thou  dost  not  regard  me,  I  know 
not  whither  to  resort."  Thus  she  will  hold  her 
confidant  by  one  continued  series  of  confessions. 
We  doubt  not  that  our  loving  Lord  frequently 
hides  his  face  from  us  because  we  rely  not  enough 
upon  him.  It  would  be  the  part  of  wisdom  to 
transfer  our  cares  to  him  who  careth  for  us ;  thus 
should  we  imitate  David,  who  urges  us  to  "  pour 
out  our  hearts  before  him."  Make  Christ  manager 
of  thine  afiairs,  and  so  please  him.  An  old  writer 
somewhere  says,  "He  who  runs  before  the  cloud 
of  divine  direction  goeth  a  fool's  errand ;"  let  us 
then  desist  from  self  serving,  and  give  ourselves  up 
like  children  to  the  loving  care  of  a  tender  parent, 
to  be  led,  guided,  directed,  and  supplied  by  our 
great  Covenant  Head  ;  so  will  he  always  have 
business  to  do  at  our  house,  and  will  make  our  soul 
his  settled  rest. 

4.  Another  method  of  retaining  the  company  of 
our  Beloved,  is  to  bring  in  others  of  his  friends  to 
sit  with  us.  It  may  be  if  he  cometh  not  to  us 
alone,  he  will  come  with  them,  and  if  perchance 
some  ill  word  of  ours  might  urge  him  to  depart, 
yet,  for  the  sake  of  others  who  sit  with  him,  he  will 
remain.    One  of  these  disciples  migknot  have  con- 


COMMUNION    PKESEKYED.  427 

strained  Christ,  but  the  two  effected  it.  I'ire  will 
not  tarry  in  a  single  coal,  but  if  many  be  laid 
together  it  will  be  long  before  it  is  clean  gone.  A 
single  tree  may  not  afford  much  shelter  for  a  travel- 
ler, but  he  will  rest  beneath  the  thick  boughs  of 
the  grove :  so  will  Jesus  often  sit  longer  where 
many  of  "  the  trees  of  the  Lord  "  are  planted.  Go 
to  the  assemblies  of  the  saints,  if  you  would  keep 
the  arm  of  the  King  of  saints.  Those  who  dwell 
most  with  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  are  most 
likely  to  have  a  goodly  share  of  Emmanuel's  com- 
pany. Cannot  my  reader  add  his  own  testimony 
to  the  fact  that  fellowship  with  the  saints  is 
conducive  to  a  continuance  of  fellowship  with 
Jesus  ? 

5.  Earnest  prayer  is  the  most  potent  means  of 
winning  continued  communion.  We  have  found  it 
true,  that  the  mercy-seat  is  the  place  where  the 
Lord  meets  his  servants.  Full  often  our  souls  have 
risen  from  depths  of  distress  to  heights  of  delight, 
by  the  simple  appeal  to  heaven,  which  we  by  sup- 
plication have  been  allowed  to  make.  We  will 
speak  well  of  the  exercise  of  prayer ;  we  can 
endorse  all  the  titles  which  old  divines  have  given 
it,  such  as— the  key  of  heaven,  and  of  all  God's 
cabinets,  the  conduit  of  mercy,  faith  flaming, 
Jacob's  ladder,  an  invisible  and  invincible  weapon, 
a  victory  over  the  Omnipotent,  the  sweet  consunip- 
tion  of  cares,  a  box  of  ointment  broken  on   the 


428  THE   SAINT   AND   HIS   SAVIOUR. 

head  of  Christ,  the  perfume  of  heaven,  the  mount 
of  transfiguration,  the  soul's  messenger,  and  Satan's 
scourge :  but  we  will  add  another — it  is  a  golden 
chain  which  holds  the  Saviour,  and  secures  him  to 
his  people.  Christ  never  lingers  long  with  dumb 
souls ;  if  there  be  no  crying  out  to  him,  he  loves 
not  silence,  and  he  departs  and  betakes  himself  to 
those  hearts  which  are  full  of  the  music  of  prayer. 
What  a  marvellous  influence  prayer  has  upon  our 
fellowship  with  Jesus  !  We  may  always  measure 
one  by  the  other.  Those  pray  most  fervently  and 
frequently  who  have  been  constant  attendants  on 
the  5iind  Intercessor ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
those  who  wrestle  the  hardest  in  supplication  will 
hold  the  angel  the  longest.  Joshua's  voice  stayed 
the  sun  in  the  heavens  for  a  few  hours ;  but  the 
voice  of  prayer  can  detain  the  Sun  of  righteousness 
for  months  and  even  years. 

Christian  Brethren,  will  you  slight  this  exhorta- 
tion ?  Shall  none  of  these  means  be  tried  ?  Are 
you  content  to  suffer  your  Saviour  to  depart  ?  Are 
ye  careless  as  to  his  company?  Then  you  have 
grave  cause  for  fear;  there  is  something  vitally 
wrong.  Pass  not  by  this  sad  admonitory  symptom ; 
search  your  heart,  for  a  sad  disease  is  there.  May 
the  great  Physician  heal  thee. 

But  surely,  as  joint-heir  with  Jesus,  thou  hast 
longings  after  him  and  sighings  for  his  presence. 
Then  let  it  be  thy  concern  to  find  him,  and,  having 


COMMUNION    PKESERVED.  429 

found  him,  to  constrain  liiiji  to  abide  witli  thee  for 
ever. 

"  Oh,  that  we  could  for  ever  sit 
With  Mary,  at  the  Master's  feet ; 

Be  this  our  happy  choice, 
Our  only  care,  delight,  and  bliss. 
Our  joy,  our  heaven  on  earth  be  this, 

To  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice. 

"  Oh,  that  we  could  with  favour'd  John, 
Kecline  our  weary  heads  upon 

The  dear  Eedeemer's  breast ! 
From  care,  and  sin,  and  sorrow  free. 
Give  us,  0  Lord,  to^find  in  thee 

Our  everlasting  rest." 

In  a  short  time  it  will  be  our  joy  to  hold  further 
converse  with  each  other,  upon  various  important 
points  of  our  knowledge  of  Christ.  "We  trust  we 
shall  then  be  privileged  to  enter  more  fully  into  the 
mysteries  of  communion,  and  in  the  mean  time  we 
commend  our  humble  effort  to  the  blessing  of 
Heaven,  trusting  that  some  beginners  will  here 
read  and  learn  what  are  the  elements  of  that 
wondrous  experience  which  falls  to  the  lot  of  a 
Christian. 


TO  THE  UI^CONYEETED  KEADER 


WHO   IS   UNDER   CONCEKN   OF    SOUL. 


Friend, — You  are  now  commencing  tlie  life  of 
grace,  for  tliou  art  just  awakened  to  know  the  evil 
of  sin.  You  are  now  feeling  the  guilt  of  your  life, 
and  are  lamenting  the  follies  of  yonr  youth.  You 
fear  there  is  no  hope  of  pardon,  no  prospect  of  for- 
giveness, and  you  tremble  lest  death  should  lead 
your  guilty  soul  unforgiven  before  its  Maker. 
Hear,  then,  the  word  of  God.  Thy  pains  for  sins 
are  God's  work  in  thy  soul.  He  woundeth  thee 
that  thou  mayest  seek  him.  He  would  not  have 
showed  thee  thy  sin  if  he  did  not  intend  to  pardon. 
Thou  art  now  a  sinner,  and  Jesus  came  to  save 
sinners,  therefore  he  came  to  save  thee ;  yea,  he 
is  saving  thee  now.  These  strivings  of  soul  are  the 
work  of  his  mercy ;  there  is  love  in  every  blow, 
and  grace  in  every  stripe.  Believe,  O  troubled 
one,  that  he  is  able  to  save  thee  unto  the  uttermost, 

430 


COMMUNION   PKESERVED.  431 

and  thou  shalt  not  believe  in  vain.  Now,  in  the 
silence  of  thine  agony,  look  unto  him  who  by  his 
stripes  healeth  thee.  Jesus  Christ  has  suffered  the 
penalty  of  thy  sins,  and  has  endured  the  wrath  of 
God  on  thy  behalf.  See  yonder  crucified  Man  on 
Calvary,  and  mark  thee  that  those  drops  of  blood 
are  falling  for  thee,  those  nailed  hands  are  pierced 
for  thee,  and  that  open  side  contains  a  heart  full 
of  love  to  thee. 

"  None  but  Jesus,  none  but  Jesus, 
Can  do  helpless  sinners  good." 

It  is  simple  reliance  on  him  which  saves.  The 
negro  said,  "  Massa,  I  fall  flat  on  de  promise  ;'^  so 
if  you  fall  flat  on  the  promise  of  Jesus  you  shall  not 
find  him  fail  you ;  he  will  bind  up  your  heart,  and 
make  an  end  to  the  days  of  your  mourning.  We 
shall  meet  in  heaven  one  day  to  sing  hallehijah  to 
the  condescending  Lord  ;  till  then  may  the  God  of 
all  grace  be  our  helper.     Amen. 


432 


UNTO    HIM    THAT    LOVED    US. 


AND 


WASHED    US    FROM    OUR    SINS    IN    HIS 

OWN    BLOOD, 

AND      HATH      MADE      US      KINGS      AND      PR  lESTl 

UNTO 

GOD    AND    OUR    FATHER; 

TO     HIM     BE     GLORY     AND     DOMINION, 

FOR    EVER    AND    EVER, 


165 


i..U:iy:ilSA-:T^W; 


Date  Due