The Saint's Record of his Love
Chapter 4 THE VOTIVE TABLET ― OR THE SAINT'S RECORD OF HIS LOVE.
"I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as live. The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the Lord: Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul. Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yea, our God is merciful. The Lord preserveth the simple: I was brought low, and he helped me. Return unto thy rest, my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living. I believed, therefore have I spoken: I was greatly afflicted. I said in my haste. All men are liars. What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me? I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord. I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all his people. Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. O Lord, truly I am thy servant: l am thy servant, and the son of thine handmaid: thou hast loosed my bonds. I will offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call upon the name of the Lord. I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all his people, in the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of thee, Jerusalem, Praise ye the Lord." - Psalms 116:1-14
[ Authors Note: So vivid is the rehearsal of experience in this Psalm, that, in our exposition of it, we have deviated so far from usual custom as to preserve the construction of the first person "which characterizes it, and gives it the form of a soliloquy.]
'I LOVE THE Lord.' I bless the Lord that I love Him, and that my carnal heart, which was once enmity against Him, has been enabled and induced by His grace to love Him. I complain often, very often, alas! that my love to Him is so cold and languid, as to be scarcely worthy of the hallowed name. I feel, at the same time, that what I should not love does hold my affection, and that, while I am convinced of its worthlessness, my wayward heart is drawn toward it. Still it is my study to love Him; and my prayer is, to love Him more. If I know myself ― if I can form a right judgment of my ruling passion, it is to love the Lord. O for the baptism of fire to consume every earthy emotion, and give fervour and flame to all that is gracious and divine within me! O how I long for this blessed result! Thou Spirit of love, shed abroad this love in my heart; fan it, and feed it with the fuel it needs and craves. So reveal the Father in His loveliness, and the Son in His spiritual beauty, that I shall be ravished and overpowered; and so touch my heart with the ' live coal,' that I shall be brought to cry in an ardor yet unfelt ― I love the Lord.! Nor am I ashamed of avowing this love; and while my lips pronounce the avowal, may my heart respond, and may my life be for ever a witness to seal it. Thou God hast bidden me love Thee ― love Thee with all my soul. Alas! my love to Thee is not what Thou askest in amount, but it is sincere in nature; and wilt Thou not accept it for the sake of Him who does not ' break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax?'
I was once hostile and indifferent to Him ― and I shudder at the past and its sin; but then I did not know Him. I was a willful stranger to His character and grace. I gazed on His universe, and bowed to His power. I looked on His sun, and was awed by its glory. The stars of the sky penetrated me with the idea of His immensity. I heard His thunders, and trembled. I surveyed hill and valley, wood and river, and drank in their beauty and gladness. I saw Thy hand in the seasons, amidst buds and flowers, fruits and harvests ― amidst songs of birds, and the life and joy of nature around me; ― and yet, how often in my delicious reverie, did I practically forget that ' God is love.' And even while glimpses of the truth stole upon me, how evanescent was the sensation. I sometimes called to mind the divine goodness to me personally, from early youth and upwards; how it had soothed me in grief, led me in difficulty, recovered me from sickness, and crowned me with 'loving-kindness and tender mercies;' yet the reminiscence awoke but a feeble gratitude; the frequency of His bounties strangely tending to diminish their value, and my daily familiarity with them leading me the less to esteem them. But when at length my heart, under deep conviction, could find no refuge but in God; when it poured its plaint into His ear, and He heard and blessed; when He pointed to the cross, and to His own Son stretched upon it; and when I looked as He pointed, and beheld the Lamb of God bleeding there and dying ― then I got a new discovery ― I saw Him as I had never seen Him before, and saw Him as nature, providence, and my own history had never represented Him. I saw Him as my God in Christ, yearning for my salvation, and I could not but gaze and wonder ― I could not but trust and love the Lord. My love is not love without a cause. It springs not from report, but from my own experience. He has loved me, and given me ample and repeated proofs of it. He hath heard my voice and my supplications.'
O it was a sad and melancholy time when my love to the Lord was formed and riveted within me. I was in awful dismay when I obtained, for the first time, a view of myself and my position; and so agonizing was my terror, that I felt as if life were about to leave me, and eternal ruin were to be my speedy and hopeless destiny. ' The sorrows of death compassed me; the pains of hell gat hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow.' Mind and body were alike in pain. I grieved to think that I must die so soon, and I was distracted with the anticipation of what should befall me after death. The shroud and the coffin were the least terrible part of the picture; there rang in my ear the knell of the awful doom, ' Depart from me, ye cursed.' ' My bones were filled with pain, and the multitude of my bones with strong pain.' ' I was weary with my groaning ― I watered my couch with my tears.' 'Day and night thy hand was heavy upon me.'
' Thou scaredst me with dreams, and didst terrify me through visions.' I felt that ' I was deprived of the residue of my years,' and I said, 'I shall behold man no more with the inhabitants of the world.' For it was on a sick-bed that those awful visitations reached me ― in a period of suffering and retirement. And where could I find relief? Every false refuge was laid low, when I was brought face to face with God. Where could I find relief? I durst not venture on my own righteousness, for I felt that I had none. I could not harden my spirit, the crisis was so sharp and frightful. I could not sleep on in indifference, for the ghastly portals of death, and beyond them the 'great white throne,' rose up before me. What could I do? ― whither could I betake myself? I yielded at length to the necessity, and I prayed ― ' Then called I upon the name of the Lord.' ' This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him.' And O what relief in such prayer! I laid open my bosom to the God of love. I confessed my trespasses, bemoaned my utter unworthiness, and cast myself on His mercy. The burden of my prayer still was, ' Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul.' Again and again, when my spirit was overwhelmed within me, did I betake myself to the ' Rock that is higher than I.' The change was wonderful beyond expression. He whom I had so often offended, and of whose character I had heretofore possessed so dim and imperfect a conception. He in His infinite tenderness and pity inclined his ear unto me.' He stooped to hear, and He was not slow to answer. As He listened, He forgave and blessed. He delivered my soul. Yes, of all thy terror He freed thee ― gave thee a lasting proof of His affection ― hushed all thy distractions ― soothed thee, and bade thee live. Love the Lord, O my soul. These were the throes of thy birth, when His power and grace took possession of thee, purged thy guilt, gave thee the sense of His favour, quickened thee, and began to impress on thee His own glorious image. Never forget the memorable epoch ― it was a day of days; and aye as thou revertest to it, ratify the vow ― ' therefore will I call upon him as long as I live.' He heard me then, and He will hear me again. I will wait for Him, and He will always answer. In whatever strait I am, whatever is my perplexity or my want, I will always make it an errand to Thy throne. Thou hast been so kind that I will make Thy kindness my unceasing plea. If my faith should falter, I will recall Thy generosity, and it shall 'fill my mouth with arguments.' Nor do I fear that Thou wilt be wearied with me for my continuous importunity, or that Thy gifts will soon be exhausted. Though others get, I can get too; and by my getting, they arc not deprived. Thou canst ' do exceeding abundantly, above all we ask or think.' What Thou hast given is only a pledge of what Thou art willing to give. O fill me with desires, and deepen them, for Thou wilt abundantly satisfy them. I now rely on Thy promise. I will call upon Thee, and yet more and more, ' while I have any being.' So long as one aspiration remains ― so long as any blessing is not given in its full extent ― up to the time that prayer shall be changed into praise, will I call upon Thee. Let my last words be an invocation, and my last sigh a prayer; let the accents of supplication here be gently blended into those of praise above!
O is there not every cause why I should love the Lord! He did not put me off, or refuse to listen. And if I have been so welcomed and so delivered; if in that period of dark days and troublous nights I cried and He heard me; if then, when earth was vain, and all ' refuge failed me,' I found immediate succour in God; if He has forgiven all mine iniquities, healed all my diseases, and redeemed my life from destruction, there is surely every reason why I should love Him, and proclaim my love to Him. Yes, let me repeat it, as the daily emotion of my heart, I love the Lord. And why need I conceal my reason ― it is not peculiar to me: ' Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yea, our God is merciful.' The God who afflicted me, and in my affliction so drew me to Himself, is a God of equity. I did not complain of Thee or to Thee. ' I know, God, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.' My sins merited far more than I endured. But 'grace reigned through righteousness.' I now can understand what Thy servant meant when he said, ' Our light afflictions.' Then I regarded the declaration as unearthly romantic, and far beyond the truth, and I was inclined in anger at it to cry the more fiercely, ' Behold, all ye that pass by, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow.' I thought myself a ' mark' specially set up for an extraordinary stroke, and I indignantly wondered why I should be so singled out. ' So foolish was I and ignorant.' But now I acknowledge His righteousness and grace, and I trust I can say, sincerely and intelligently, 'My light affliction.' Is it not ' light' compared with what I deserved, and light in comparison with what Jesus endured for me? Is it not ' light,' for it lasts ' but a moment,' in contrast with eternity? And I cannot but regard it as ' light,' when I think of its effectual connection with the 'far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.' O what kindness I enjoyed ― what promises to soothe me, and what influences of the Comforter. What before was theory to me, then became matter of experience. I understood because I felt. Grace and mercy - waited on me, in tenderness and sympathy. There could be no higher love than to chastise me ― to alarm in order to convince me, and to convince in order to bless and save me. And do not I love Him because He is so ' righteous' as to show me my sin in my suffering, and so 'gracious' as to lay His hand on me so lightly, remove it so speedily, sanctify the dispensation, and make it the means of permanent health to my soul! I love the Lord.
They who cannot save themselves are saved by God. They who have no means of self-defense are shielded by Him. ' The Lord preserveth the simple;' but the proud, the wary, and the self-satisfied look not to Him, but to themselves, and therefore are enveloped in ruin. ' I was brought low, and he helped me.' He helps the helpless. I was weak and poor, and He had compassion on me. Low indeed was I, feeble and depressed ― my health gone, and my spirits sunk; but He restored me. There was a soft slumber, and a placid awakening ― then came convalescence, growing health, renewed serenity, and final recovery; but along with all this there was given me assured possession of my Father's love ― of Him who knew my frame, and remembered that I was dust. Can I ever forget Thy kindness in my distress? Thy one hand did strike, but Thy other hand did heal me. Surely I must love the Lord, my Physician.
'No wonder is there that, ' my soul, thou hast said unto the Lord, Thou art my Lord.' Thou hast had many wanderings. Far and near hast thou flown in thy vexing search. From flower to flower hast thou flitted, delighted for an instant with each, and never finding in any what thou didst crave. Disappointed in one region, thou hast traveled to another; dissatisfied in one pursuit, thou hast resorted to another. Philosophy only tantalized, and pleasure only cloyed thee. The deity of Science was vailed, and the beauty of Art was without spiritual fascination. Fatigued and chafed, whither wilt thou go? Return to thy rest, O my soul.' Thou hast now got what thou wast so vainly in quest of. In the bosom of Him who created me, I have found repose. There is no rest for any spirit Thou hast made, save in the bosom of Him who made it. And now abide in thy rest; what should tempt thee to leave it? All thou wishest and hopest is there, ― a spring of joy to drink of, and an atmosphere of love to revel in. never, never cast thyself loose again. That rest which thou enjoyest shall be thy eternal haven. It was long open for thee ere thou wouldest enter it, and it might have been shut upon thee, but ' the Lord dealt bountifully with thee.' I must surely extol the grace which has brought me into it; and while I am in it,
'I must love on; God,
This bosom must love on: but let Thy breath
Touch and make pure the flame that knows not death,
Bearing it up to heaven. Love's own abode.'
I have seen the infant worn out, nestle on its mother's bosom, and sink into slumber. I have seen the ship, driven by the gale, glide into the landlocked harbor, and at length drop her anchor, gather up her canvas, and repose peacefully on her own shadow. I have seen the bird beat up against the storm, till she found a spot of shelter, and folded her weary wing under the cover of a rock. I have seen the streamlet tossing and leaping from the brow of the mountain, till it descended into the plain, and found rest in the great and undisturbed waters. But all I have seen cannot image out the sweetness and joy of that tranquility which my spirit has in God. ' Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.' Thou hast lavished every kindness upon me. From the most awful of evils hast Thou freed me. Thy love alone could prompt to it, and Thy power alone could effect it. For ' Thou hast delivered my soul from death.' O chiefest mercy! ' from death' ― a death of deaths ― in the loss of Thy favour, and under the withering of Thy frown. And Thou didst also deliver 'mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.' Thou hast wiped away the sad and bitter tear. Thy hand alone has the requisite softness and power. Thou didst preserve me in life, when Thou didst save my soul; ' the life that now is and that which is to come,' was Thy double and simultaneous gift. The test started at the thought of death; but Thy love threw its radiance on it, and it glistened as it fell. Thou hast ' set my feet on a rock, and established my goings' ― ' Thou that liftest me up from the gates of death.' That blessed period must ever live in my memory ― nothing can obliterate it; years may pass away, but that epoch will still stand out in its brightness and grace. All that happens to me but reminds me of it. Every blessing I enjoy, every prayer I present, every psalm I chaunt, every hope I cherish, all the evil I escape, and all the good I possess, carries me back to the primal benefaction ― when ' all old things passed away' with my agony, and all things put on an aspect of gladness with my renewal. And what shall keep me from again declaring, with a fuller heart and in a bolder tone ― I LOVE THE Lord. Nor shall this love be inactive within me. As it throbs in my heart, it shall give fervour and freshness of consecration to my life: ' I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.' If I have life, shall I sit and mope; shall I fold my arms, and enjoy the luxury in supineness and indolence; shall I still have the attitude of an invalid, ― when such life beats in every pulse? No; I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.' I shall occupy myself in serving my God; my whole life shall be devoted to Him. ' Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do.' As I walk, my tongue shall carry Thy praises upon it; whatever my hands find to do, shall be done in Thy presence, and as a sacrifice to Thee. Before Thee let my every thought be opened, and my every purpose be formed. Before Thee let my every wish originate, and my every word be uttered. Before Thee, and Thy smile beaming on me ― before Thee, and Thy Spirit guiding me, let me ever walk. There are those who seek not to walk before Thee, and I was once among them; who try to lounge behind Thee, as if they could evade Thy vision, and find a genial gloom in the shadow of Thy throne. They wish not Thy presence, but would flee from it. 'God hath forgotten,' say they; and thus they repeat their dream, ' He hideth His face, He will never see it.' The first man sought away from Thee; but the thunder of Thy voice brought him trembling to Thy feet. Thy prophet of old attempted to flee from Thee; but thy storm caught him and yoked him again to Thy message. But let me ever rejoice in Thy presence; let me feel it, as Thy flowers feel Thy sun-light ― to be life and joy. Before Thee let me ever walk, and Thou wilt anticipate every wish, ward off every danger, and select for me every step. Nearer and nearer let me come to gaze on Thy radiance and love, till at last I approach that presence more closely than angels dare, and chaunt a melody which the seraphs cannot learn to sing. There love shall still be the music of the anthem, and the spirit of every occupation and enjoyment shall be in harmony with my dear and delightful avowal, I LOVE the Lord. The troubles that passed over me would have flung me into desperation, but ' I believed' in God. Ah, how dark and wretched should I have been without such faith ― like a withered leaf of autumn, tossed by the winds into the swollen current. I did not let go my confidence. Though I have told my afflictions without abatement, it is only to enhance the glory of my deliverance. In no sullen fit ' have I spoken' of my sufferings. 'I was greatly afflicted,' and my mention of my agony has been to glorify mv Saviour-God. After He revealed Himself to me I never doubted, lo, never; and ' though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.' As I looked around me, I felt the vanity of all human things. There was no refuge in man. They could not do for me either as they desired or as they professed. Trust in them brought only chagrin and vexation. Indeed, what can any human aid do for wounded spirit? The balm of Gilead cannot minister to it ― words of earthly solace fall on the ear without effect: ' miserable comforters are they all.' What is the world to one under suffering; to one laboring under disease, and under conviction of sin? To me it was all hollowness and vanity.
' Earth's cup
Is poisoned; her renown most infamous;
Her gold, seem as it may, is really dust;
Her titles, slanderous names; her praise, reproach;
Her strength, an idiot's boast; her wisdom, blind;
Her gain, eternal loss; her hope, a dream;
Her love, her friendship, enmity with God;
Her promises, a lie; her smile, a harlot's;
Her beauty, paint and rotten within; her pleasures,
Deadly assassins masked; her laughter, grief;
Her breasts, the stings of death; her total sum ―
Her all ― most total vanity!' So that 'I said in my haste, all men are liars.' But the contrast cheers me. From men I turn away, and lift my gaze upwards to the source of refuge and blessing. It is He, and He alone who gave me comfort, who heard my prayer, and bade me live. Such is my sense of His mercy; such my overwhelming consciousness of His love, that I know not what return to make: ' What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?' I cannot answer my own question. I find no gift worthy of the occasion; none can I commend as an adequate expression of my gratitude. For everything I have is His already; and I can only offer Him His own. The gem and the victim, the gold and the incense, come not up to my estimate of obligation; and they are but a mean offering after all.
'The best return for one like me,
So wretched and so poor,
Is from His gifts to draw a plea
And ask Him still for more.
'I cannot serve Him as I ought ―
No work have I to boast;
Yet would I glory in the thought
That I shall owe Him most
'What shall I render?' I have no substantial gift; but I will give my ardent praise, and seal it in the sacramental goblet: ' I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord.' Such a thank-offering ― loving and ardent ― the devout and genuine consecration of the heart He will prefer. With the cup of ' the communion of the blood of Christ' in my hand, Lord, I give myself to Thee. For Christ's sake accept me; wield me for Thy service, and fashion me for Thy glory. If thou sendest suffering, I will bear it in Thy patience; if Thou layest on me any commission, I will execute it in Thy strength. Bid me go, and I will go; beckon me to come, and I will come; say to Thy servant do this, and I will do it. Lord, I am Thine, pledged in this cup of salvation; and again will I record it ― I love the Lord. Nor shall my gift be rendered in secret. Mine was a public deliverance, and mine shall be a public thanksgiving. I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all His people.' What I vowed I will pay cheerfully: ' what my lips uttered, and my mouth spake when I was in trouble.' Ye who were around me; who saw me laid low, so abject and agonized; who beheld the turmoil of my soul, and the fevered sufferings of my frame; who witnessed my moaning cry for help, and were spectators of my relief; ― in your presence will I ratify my vows; and the Lord I love will accept them: 'The humble shall see it and be glad, and your hearts shall live that seek the Lord.' 'My praise shall be of thee in the great congregation.' ' I cried unto him with my voice, and he shall be extolled with my tongue.' 'He did not turn away my prayer,' and He will not turn away my praise. 'I will praise the name of the Lord with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving. This also shall please the Lord better than an ox or bullock that hath horns and hoof ' I am as a wonder unto many,' and many shall listen to my grateful acknowledgments. 'Let my mouth be filled with thy praise and thy honour all the day long.' 'Open unto me the gates of righteousness, I will go into them and I will praise the Lord.'
'Here in Thy courts, I leave my vow,
And Thy rich grace record;
Witness ye saints, who hear me now.
If I forsake the Lord.' My soul drew nigh unto death, but Thou hast brought me up. ' The dead praise not thee, neither any that go down into silence.' 'The Lord hath chastened me sore, but he hath not given me over unto death.' Now I know that 'precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.' Precious is that death, for He helps them in life, and does not abruptly dismiss them from the world; precious to Him, for He vouchsafes to them His gracious presence, and His Son for their sakes has conquered death; precious in His sight, for it happens only when He permits. Their soul was precious, for He redeemed it, and He has sanctified it; and unspeakably precious does He feel it to be at the moment when it leaves its tabernacle, and ascends upward to His bosom. And I have seen upon the death-bed of a saint how precious was his death! When Thy hand was first laid upon him, he submitted indeed, but with sore struggle, and there was intense desire for recovery. He had pictured to himself a long, happy, and useful life. But as days passed. Thy grace gained the victory, and gradually was he enabled to say, 'Not my will, but thine be done.' One who saw him daily might have marked step after step of the visible progress, not in resignation only, but in faith as it brightened, and in hope as it reached its 'full assurance.' how unspeakably precious such a training ― when Thy grace lays hold of the soul, and fetches it ' out of the depths;' reveals Thy glory yet more fully, brings forth one promise after another yet more forcibly, unvails the tender and indissoluble relations of the covenant, imparts triumph over every temptation, and so prepares for death, and ripens for future glory! And thus the dying believer comes to have no will but Thine ― is ready to leave the world without a pang ― can speak of his departure with an animating smile, and extol the love of His Father who is soon to bring home His child. He feels that he is Thine, and that Thou vouchest for the safety of Thine own. There may be pains, but he murmurs not; spasms of expiring nature, but he complains not; a dark step, but he shrinks not. At length he pillows his dying head on the bosom of Immanuel, and falls asleep in Jesus. Farewell, but for a season. Thou art before us, but we dare not envy thee. "What wonders thou hast now seen, what praises thou hast now sung, what a full tide of joy is now in thy bosom! What are now thy thoughts of Him who died? Couldest thou express them in human words? As we gaze on thy coffin lid, and lower the precious and beloved dust, our eye fills, and the tear falls. But we dry it. For soon, very soon, shall we be with thee, to be locked again in friendship, and to walk with one another while we both walk with God.
'I saw when the time of his release was come,
And I longed for a congregated world to behold that dying saint.
As the aloe is green and well-looking till the last, best summer
of its age,
And then hangeth out its golden bells to mingle glory with
corruption ―
Such was the end of this righteous one.
His filmy eye was bright with love from heaven;
His every look it beamed praise, as worshiping with seraphs.
What honey-comb was hived upon his lips, eloquent of gratitude
and prayer;
What triumph shined serene upon that clammy brow;
What glory, flickering, transparent, upon those thin cheeks;
What beauty on his face!'
Yes, surely and beyond all doubt, 'precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.' That death is of high price, for it is to the saint great 'gain.' When I think of leaving earth, with its imperfect society and occupations ― its brief and scanty enjoyment, I think, at the same time, of entering heaven, where those around me are robed in purity and ' walk in white,' and where I shall see His face, and praise Him in rapturous hallelujahs; where no sin shall cloud, and no infirmity shall distract; where the Sabbath never comes to an end,and the congregation never breaks up; where the heart shall never be out of humour, and the harp never out of tune; where the Lord I love shall be loved with an intensity of which I cannot now dream, and where the cup of which I have now partaken shall be replenished, fresh and full, out of the fountain that rises up from beneath the throne. Love the Lord, my soul, for these precious hopes.
'Thou shalt walk in robes of glory;
Thou shalt wear a golden crown;
Thou shalt sing redemption's story
With the saints around the throne.
'Thou shalt see that better country
Where a tear-drop never fell,
Where a foe made never entry,
And a friend ne'er said farewell.
Where upon the radiant faces
That will shine on thee alway,
Thou wilt never see the traces
Of estrangement and decay.' And now, as the Lord I love has done so much for me ― has thrown around me the arms of His power, I feel that I am bound by peculiar ties to Him. I am under obligation (and I gladly own and record it) to prove the reality of my affection and homage by activity and labour. ' Lord, truly I am thy servant.' Give me the spirit of a servant. Show me my work as a servant, and fit me for it. Then shall I find that all service is easy and pleasant. that this love I profess had a deeper fervour, that it filled my entire nature, that it nursed every motive, and threw its radiance over every labour ― then should I exult in declaring again, ' I am thy servant.' Thy service is no drudgery, for Thy will is always ' holy, and just, and good.' The work Thou assignest elevates and ennobles him who does it. Ye servants of Satan, how I pity you. Your task is ignoble; you are degraded into serfs, and your ' austere master' plunges you deeper and deeper in the mire, gives you no respite, and holds out no hope of reward; for ' the wages of sin is death.' That I was early given to Thee, is my joy and gratitude. The seed sown in maternal love, and watered by maternal tears, has at length borne its fruit. 'I am the son of thy handmaid' ― the child of many prayers. She travailed 'again as in birth' for me, that I might be born again. She was one of Thy servants, dear and devoted to Thee; let her son be ever a welcome servant. Thus race unto race shall fear Thee, and the promise of Thy covenant, ― 'to you and your children,' is fulfilled. Surely I cannot but value early parental instruction ― ' the son of thy handmaid,' who now says of himself, truly I am thy servant.' Have I not seen many trained from infancy, some to carelessness and some to sin; aye, and some, too, have I seen setting all parental nurture at defiance, burning their mother's Bible, and cursing their mother's God. That ' I am what I am,' ' bless the Lord, O my soul.' Nay more, I was once enslaved ― the fetter was tight, and it galled me; the iron was heavy, and I could not break it. My soul was enthralled to the past, and I could not flee from painful recollections; it was chained to the future, and I could not shake off gloomy forebodings; it was tied down to the present, and I could not unfasten the sinful indifference that held me in captivity, and there I lay like ― , 'An infant crying in the night,
An infant crying for the light,
And with no language but a cry' But thou hast loosed my bonds.' My mind was in bondage to error, and my heart was in bondage to sin; but Thy truth has freed me ― Thy Son has made me ' free indeed.' Relieved from such servitude, I am Thy servant, and grateful for my emancipation, ' I will offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call upon the name of the Lord.' ' My praise shall be of thee in the great congregation, I will pay my vows before them that fear him.' And thus, the longer I meditate, the more is my heart crowded with reasons for serving the Lord. And shall I not declare my love with a public acknowledgment? 'I will pay my vows unto the Lord now, in the presence of all his people; in the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of thee, O Jerusalem.' Thy servant Hezekiah got it from Thyself as a pledge of his recovery from sickness, that 'on the third day he should go up to the house of the Lord.' The God who healed him, knew that the royal heart would like to give public thanks for the divine goodness. 'If,' said Thy servant David, ' I find favour in the eyes of the Lord, he will show me his habitation.' The exiled sovereign felt that his return to his capital would be one not only to his palace, but to Thy sanctuary. And shall not I love Thy house― the scene where Thou hast so often manifested ' Thy power and glory?' Am I not drawn to Thy people? ' Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.' While I began by saying of myself that I love the Lord, may I not conclude by saying to you ― ' Praise ye the Lord' ― ' magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together?' Bear me witness, ye who share a kindred affection, when in the midst of you, I inscribe on my votive tablet ― 'I LOVE THE Lord.'
'I love Thee, Lord, but with no love of mine,
For I have none to give;
I Iove Thee, Lord, but all the love is Thine,
For by Thy love I live.
I am as nothing, and rejoice to be
Emptied, and lost, and swallowed up in Thee.
Thou, Lord, alone art all Thy children need.
And there is none beside;
From Thee the streams of blessedness proceed,
In Thee the blessed abide.
Fountain of life and all-abounding grace,
Our source, our centre, and our dwelling-place.'