Psalms 23 and 84.

A. Miller.

Meditations on the Twenty-third and Eighty-fourth Psalms.

"The good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep." John 10: 11.

"I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." Ps. 122: 1.

PREFACE.

VERY little needs to be said by way, of preface. The "MEDITATIONS" are well known. Their reappearance in a separate volume is to meet the expressed wish of many friends.

Besides, when lying scattered in short meditations amongst other papers, as in "Things New and Old," they are less readable. Indeed, the difficulty in reading them connectedly, even when there is a willing mind, is so great, that comparatively few will take the trouble. But they are so convenient in the present form, and so different to the reader when thus together, that it is almost like a new book.

The circumstances under which the greater part of the Meditations on the TWENTY-THIRD PSALM were written, and of which they may be said to be the MEMORIAL, give them a special interest to some. But that circle is narrowing. Many who loved and were loved, have gone to the Lord since JULY 1ST, 1864. The earth is becoming poorer, but heaven grows richer. They have gone before, we are following after. "A LITTLE WHILE," expresses the period of our separation.

The main object of these Meditations, I may here say, is to lead both writer and reader to greater nearness in heart to God. There is no piety so deep or real as the reference of the heart to God in everything, and all day long. This is living in God's presence — beneath the glance of His eye. "I will guide thee with mine eye," is the promise. Wondrous truth! — a child of God on earth, taught to read his Father's eye in heaven! This indeed is nearness — guidance — fellowship — fellowship with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ, through the teaching and power of the Holy Spirit. (Ps. 32; 1 John 1: 3)

When our souls are in this state, we walk in the light as God is in the light. We are happy to have everything that concerns us looked at there. Christ is revealed to the soul in His fulness and glory by the Holy Spirit. Our joy is full. Difficulties vanish. Clouds and darkness disappear before His brightness. Our love to Him rises to the measure of our enjoyment of His love to us: we can never rise higher than what we see in Him, whether it be love, self-denial, or service. Hence the practical importance of these words, "Looking unto Jesus."

There may be troubles on every side, as to the circumstances through which we are passing, but amidst them all the heart is calm, peaceful, and quietly referring all to God. Faith looks only to Him; it trusts only in Him; "the secret of the Lord is with them that fear him." (Ps. 25; 62)

Fain would I lead my many dear young friends thus to walk with the Lord. If one we love be far away, we not only think of that one, but we instinctively refer all that interests us to the absent one. Before we are aware, we find ourselves wondering what he would think of this — what he would say to that. This is natural — it is the communion of hearts that love; distance cannot hinder it. Thus should it be with the child of God and his Father — with the disciple and his Lord.

In faithfulness and love would I say, in conclusion — make Christianity the one great business of your lives, and make all other things bend to it. It is worthy of the entire consecration of heart and life. There can be no solid peace, no lasting happiness, no steadfastness of course, without this. When other things share the heart with Christ, all goes wrong spiritually. The conscience becomes uneasy, the heart becomes unhappy, and feebleness in divine things soon follows.

May the Lord keep us all very near to Himself and ever walking in the light of His countenance; and may He bless to many, many souls, the following Meditations. and His name shall have all the glory.

A. M. London.

"The soul is the dwelling-place of the truth of God. The ear and the mind are but the gate and the avenue; the soul is its home or dwelling-place.

The beauty and the joy of the truth may have unduly occupied the outposts, filled the avenues, and crowded the gates — but it is only in the soul that its reality can be known. And it is by MEDITATION that the truth takes its journey from the gate along the avenue to its proper dwelling-place." J. G. Bellett.

MEDITATIONS ON THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM

THE twenty-third Psalm is familiar to many. To some it recalls the earliest associations of youth, and even of childhood. Scenes, voices, faces, long, long passed away, and never more to be seen or heard in this world, are vividly brought before the mind, in meditating on this beautiful Psalm. The heart, at times, loves to recall, and dwell on, such early associations. And, not infrequently, in mature years, and even in old age, the lessons learnt in youth are the best remembered. Hence the importance of early training and instruction in the things of God, and of the immortal soul.

The following anecdote from the pen of a missionary who laboured in India, touchingly illustrates what has just been referred to; but, as it is now given from memory, we can only vouch for its being substantially correct. In visiting an hospital, he came to the bedside of a dying soldier, and spoke to him about the concerns of his soul, but he gave no heed to what was said. He was, evidently, dying fast, but utterly careless and hardened, through a long course of sin. The earnest missionary could not bear the thought of leaving him to die in his sins, knowing what an eternity of misery his must be were this to be the case; yet every appeal seemed ineffectual. At last the thought crossed his mind: "I can hear from his accent that he comes from a country where the Psalms of David are generally committed to memory in youth. I will try if a verse of a Psalm will touch his heart." So when he had gained the soldier's attention, he calmly repeated to him,

"Such pity as a father hath

Unto his children dear;

Like pity shows the Lord to such

As worship Him in fear.

For He remembers we are dust,

And He our frame well knows.

Frail man, his days are like the grass,

As flower in field he grows."

The dying soldier now looked at the missionary earnestly; he stared as if a voice from afar addressed him. The scenes of home and youth rushed into his mind — a tender chord had been touched. The well-known, though long-forgotten lines of the beautiful hundred and third Psalm thrilled his soul, and were, we trust, the voice of God in his conscience. He was thoroughly broken down, so that a thousand avenues, we doubt not, might now have been found to his heart.

We are willing to believe that, in such a case, we see the happy fruits of the early instruction of the child, and of the parent's prayer to God for his blessing. For a long time both the instruction given and the prayers offered seemed fruitless and forgotten. But God can never forget. The child may, and alas, often does, but our God, blessed be His name, never can. The prayer that has been laid in faith on His table can never be overlaid. It may often seem so, and our evil hearts of unbelief are too prone to fear that it is so; but faith affirms that it can never be overlooked, or unanswered. The prayer that has been thus spread out before Him, is ever beneath His eye. He has a Father's heart, He knows what it is to bring up children; as we read in Isaiah 1: 2: "I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me." He knows every feeling that exercises a parent's heart. And the good seed of the word, too, may often seem to have been banished from the mind, and the heart and conscience become so encrusted by the world and sin, that to pierce through it is impossible. But God is faithful, and faith will never yield its hold of Him. It can ever fall back on that broad and blessed word, "He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up, for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?" And, again, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house." (Rom. 8: 32; Acts 16: 31)

By means the most simple, and at a moment when we least expect it, our gracious God often works in the hearts of those we love. And when the light of God does shine into the soul, a long life of sin, with its dreadful realities, may start up before the trembling sinner in a moment; and, in another moment, by the grace of God, he may see them all blotted out, and his peace made with Him through the precious blood of Jesus. When God works, who, what, can hinder Him?

Could we conceive of a case more hopeless than the one just described? The Philippian jailer, or the thief on the cross, was not more so. Far from home — no relatives near, and, it may be, without a friend in this world. And now, laid down to die in an hospital at the close of such a life; is he not, we may exclaim, beyond all hope? Who thinks of him now? Who cares for him there? Only ONE. He who had often heard, it may be, the parents' frequent, fervent prayer — ("O Father of mercies, keep thine eye on my wandering son; let Thy hand of unwearied love be spread over him night and day; oh, bring him early to Thyself, that he may not so dishonour Thy name") — now gloriously vouchsafes an answer in peace. The parents may have passed off the scene, and prayer may have long been silent for the careless one; but God forgets not the heart that trusted Him, and, in due time, will surely fulfil its desires. He sent His servant at the right time — gave him the right word — and all in good time accomplished the blessed work! Glad surprise will often fill our souls in heaven, in meeting those we once feared might never reach that happy land. Oh that we may count only on God, and never doubt or fear!

Knowing that many hearts are deeply interested in this subject must be our excuse for saying so much thereon. But we now return to our beautiful Psalm; and it may be we shall find, that however early we were taught to repeat, "The Lord is my shepherd," we have yet to learn its meaning and application.

"THE LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want." This is surely the expression of a heart that is filled and occupied with the Lord Himself. It may be the expression of one who only knew the Lord as Jehovah, revealed to Israel; or, of one who knows Him as Jehovah Jesus, who saves His people from their sins; but it is evidently the language of one who is truly godly, whether Jew or Christian, and who makes the Lord his only trust. The soul, under all circumstances, is here viewed as resting on the unfailing care, and quietly enjoying the varied resources, of the well-known Shepherd of the sheep. And that, not only for the present time, but for all times and for ever.

This is precious faith! Mark it well, O my soul, and patiently meditate thereon. It is most practical; "The Lord is my shepherd." It rises, observe, above what He gives, what He does, what He promises, blessed as these are, and calmly rests on what He is Himself. As the eye of Abraham rested not on the promises, when he put forth his hand to slay his son, but on Him from whom the promises came, so here, the eye of the pilgrim resting on the Lord, he can say, "I shall not want." When such confidence fills the heart, peace, evenness and quietness will characterise the life.

But knowest thou, my soul, the secret spring of such a blessed state? How is it that so few rise to this measure? Hast thou? Hast thou this rejoicing and confidence in the Lord, in the midst of wilderness circumstances? "The Lord is my shepherd" sounds like the voice of one rejoicing. "I shall not want," like that of quiet confidence.

When we have learnt the deep lessons of the twenty-second Psalm, we shall understand the path of the twenty-third; and further, we shall rejoice in hope of the glory of the twenty-fourth. The three Psalms are linked together. But the twenty-second must be learnt first. To know the grace that shines on the pilgrim's path in the twenty-third, and on the pilgrim resting in glory in the twenty-fourth, we must know the grace that shines in the sufferings of Christ in the twenty-second. The grace and the glory are due to Him who suffered there, and to all who own Him, in the day of His rejection. We must travel, in faith, through the twenty-second to reach the twenty-third; there is no other path to it; and, when there, we find that the next thing is glory. The Christian is thus, in spirit, between the sufferings and the glory — the cross and the crown. He looks back on the one, and onward to the other. Sin, death, judgment, the grave, the world, Satan, are all behind him. Victory over every foe is stamped on our life in resurrection.

The three grand aspects of the Lord's Shepherd-character, as revealed in the New Testament, teach the same precious truths.

1. As the "Good Shepherd," who laid down His life for the sheep. (Compare John 10; Ps. 22)

2. As the "Great Shepherd" — risen from the dead, He takes charge of the sheep as they journey through "that great and terrible wilderness." (Compare Heb. 13; Ps. 23)

3. As the "Chief Shepherd," who will give a crown of glory to all His under shepherds at His appearing and kingdom. (Compare 1 Peter 5; Ps. 24)

Surely, if we know the Lord thus, our confidence in Him must be without a question. We shall know His love, care, power, grace and goodness as the Shepherd of the sheep. And having gone through the wilderness Himself, He knows all the dangers and difficulties of the way.

The immediate occasion of the blessed Lord taking this place of care and responsibility is also worthy of special note. In the eight chapter of John's gospel He is rejected as the light and the truth. In the ninth He is rejected in His work. Thus rejected by the Jews in His Person and work, He formally takes His place in the tenth chapter, outside the Jewish fold, as the "Good Shepherd." Now, He gathers the "poor of the flock" around Himself, as the new Centre. "They shall hear my voice; and there shall be one flock [flock it should be, not fold], and one shepherd." They are a "little flock" with Himself, outside the Jewish fold. They have been cast out of the synagogue, but they have all blessing in Him. Appearances may be against them, but His word assures them of a present salvation, and happy liberty. "I am the door, by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture." How unlike the narrow limits of Israel — the place of bondage! Now they have the full assurance of salvation; and, also, "can go in" to the sanctuary of God's holy presence to worship, and "out" in service to a perishing world. But this is not all: grace abounds; His heart overflows with deepest interest and tenderness for those who leave all and follow Him — who follow Him in His rejection; or, as the apostle expresses it, who "go forth unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach" — sharing His rejection. For all such that wonderful revelation of grace was especially given. "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them to me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand. I and my Father are one."

These verses will be read with tenfold more interest when we understand the circumstances in which they were first uttered; and still more if we are in similar circumstances ourselves.

But it may be said by some, that as David, the writer of the Psalm, lived long before the humiliation and cross of Christ, he could know nothing of these things. True, so far; but he knew what it was to be rejected by man, and cast upon God, even after he was the Lord's anointed. David and his companions in "the cave of Adullam," typify Christ and those that gather round Him. But we doubt not that "the spirit of Christ" in David so guided him in writing the Psalm, that it applies to both Jew and Christian, and may be the truthful expression of the experience of both; only, in a much higher and more spiritual way with us.

"The Jews' religion" had its place and day before the cross; Christianity after it. This makes all the difference. We know not Messiah after the flesh, but a risen Christ in heavenly glory. We are associated with Him there. Judaism was earthly in its character; it had "divine service," and a "worldly sanctuary." Christianity is heavenly. Christians are seated together in heavenly places in Christ. Our place is to be outside the camp with Christ as witnesses, and inside the veil with Him as worshippers. And now, from this heavenly point of view, it is our happy privilege to meditate on the rich experience of this delightful Psalm, in the full light of gospel truth.

"My Shepherd is the Lamb,

The living Lord, who died;

With all things good I ever am

By Him supplied.

He richly feeds my soul

With blessings from above,

And leads me where the rivers roll

Of endless love."

Psalm 23: 2. "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters." The effect of the knowledge of Jesus as the good and great Shepherd is rest of soul in Himself, and the quiet enjoyment of His love and grace. To know Himself is life — eternal life. To know His work is peace — perfect peace. "He maketh me to lie down." To sit down is to rest; but to lie down gives the idea of full, perfect, refreshing rest — complete repose. This is what the Shepherd provides — what He leads to; not, alas, what we always accept. We often wander in fields wherein is no pasture, and beside the troubled, not the quiet waters. But this comes from occupation with self and unbelief, not from the Shepherd's hand and care. He would have the feeblest of His flock to be free from all anxiety as to the future. The Shepherd's thoughtful love is enough. He has charged Himself with the entire care of all who follow Him. We have only to watch the direction of the Shepherd's eye, and confide in His unfailing care. "I will guide thee with mine eye" — "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee," are His own words. His sheep cannot want. They may often be greatly tried in their journeyings through the wilderness, and often be ready to faint and fail because of the way; but we must remember that the Lord's grace never fails, and that we must ever count on Him, and what we have in Him. He is with us always, even unto the end. We may quietly rest in Him. He maketh us to lie down in "green pastures" - in the midst of plenty — we rest in the abundance of His grace; and He ever leads beside the still waters.

"The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want,

He makes me down to lie

In pastures green; He leadeth me

The quiet waters by."

Peace, plenty and security characterise the portion of the Lord's beloved flock. "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." This beautiful passage, which so touchingly represents the Lord's delight in the scaled remnant of the Gentiles, will be literally true during the millennium of all who are faithful to "the King of glory." (Compare Isa. 49 with Rev. 7) But it is also true now, in a spiritual sense, of every sheep and lamb in the highly-favoured flock of Christ. But knowest thou this blessed truth, O my soul, for thyself — is it thine own experience? It can only be known by the word of God, and enjoyed in the heart by faith. "For we walk by faith, not by sight." Our rest and plenty are not natural and worldly, but spiritual and heavenly.

When the heart is simple all is plain and easy. We have heard the feeblest sing in the joyous sense of deliverance, and with amazing heart, even before the pangs of the new birth were well over;

"He took me from a fearful pit,

And from the miry clay,

And on a rock He set my feet,

Establishing my way.

He put a new song in my mouth,

Our God to magnify;

Many shall see it, and shall fear,

And on the Lord rely."

Further on we learn that the measure of our blessing is the Lord's own measure. "Because as he is, so are we in this world." "Whosoever drinketh of this water," pointing to Jacob's well, "shall thirst again: but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst." The deepest well of human bliss may soon run dry, but the "living fountains of waters" have their spring in the heart of God, which can never fail. And again, "Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst." (John 4, John 6) And further still, as the foreign shoot that is grafted into the olive-tree drinks of its richness and fatness; or, as the members of the body have nourishment ministered from the head; so are we vitally united to Christ, and we feed on Him, both as to our heavenly and our time condition.

But in the passage before us it is rather the Lamb feeding us, than we feeding on Him. "For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters." Both are blessedly true; but the former agrees more fully with the strains of the twenty-third Psalm. He who laid down His life for the sheep, and washed them from their sins in His own blood, now feeds them and leads them with His own hand. What grace! What gentleness! To be protected and nourished, in our journey through the wilderness, by the very hand that was pierced for our sins, should fill our hearts with perfect confidence in our Shepherd, notwithstanding the manifold trials and difficulties of the way.

The great thing, undoubtedly, is to know Himself, and to know what we are to Him, and what He is to us. What has He done in the past, what is He doing in the present, and what will He do in the future, to manifest His love? May not His great work be all briefly summed up in this? When we had lost all — the soul, holiness, happiness, and God — He not only brings the lost one back to God, but, oh, wondrous truth — truth fraught with complete blessedness — He recovers God for the soul! and this is all, for "God is love." He is the living God, the only source of the soul's life, holiness and happiness. Oh, what a truth! Who can estimate its blessedness? Dwell upon it, O my soul; only think — the soul recovered for God, and God recovered for the soul! What a recovery! What a reconciliation! Not, observe, that God needed to be reconciled to us; no, God never was man's enemy; on the contrary, He so loved us when we were in our sins, that He gave His Son to die for us. And it is plainly stated, that "God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them." Nothing was needed to turn God's heart to us, blessed be His name! But the cross was needed, that by it God might receive the atonement, and we the reconciliation. We, alas, were enemies to God in our minds by wicked works; but love triumphed in the cross; for thereby righteous reconciliation was accomplished, and man's enmity to God was slain. "For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit." (1 Peter 3: 18.)

And now, mark well, my soul, in thy meditations, this inviting aspect of God's love toward us; it is well fitted to quiet many a fear, and comfort thee in any trouble — to fill thee, even now, with joy unspeakable and full of glory. And mark, too, that word of exquisite tenderness which refers to the wind-up of thy weary journey through this vale of tears: "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." With His own hand He wipes away the last tear that shall ever dim the pilgrim's eye. May we not call this the privilege of love, which the Father claims for all the children?

Psalm 23: 3. "He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." Though under the faithful care and watchful eye of the Good Shepherd, we have to pass through a world in which many and powerful foes surround us, and closely beset our path. "The god of this world," we are sure, hates us, because he knows full well that when he is chained in the bottomless pit we shall be in the full liberty of the glory with Christ. There is no book in all the Bible he tries to keep people from reading, or dislikes so much, as the book of "The Revelation"; and why? Because therein his own complete overthrow, and eternal misery, are plainly foretold. He wants to conceal this from the eyes of men; and, alas, how wonderfully he has succeeded as to this precious and profitable book! Many think it cannot be understood, and that it is unprofitable to read it; whereas, the Lord has connected a special blessing with the reading and the understanding of this book. "Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein: for the time is at hand." (Rev. 1: 3.) The Lord's judicial dealings, not only with Satan the source of all evil, but with the Jew, the Gentile, and the church of God, are herein unfolded. He shows us how He will square accounts with each. There can be no millennium until these judgments are past. "Shall the throne of iniquity have fellowship with thee?" It is all important to see the final results of the rise and progress of these three great divisions of mankind. Other books show us the failure, "The Revelation," the fall, and the setting aside of these bodies, or classes, as the responsible witnesses of God in the earth. But more than that, "The Revelation" shows us the Lord Jesus Christ taking the place of the faithful and true witness on the failure of all others, and re-establishing all things on a new footing, that God may be fully glorified in the scene wherein He has been dishonoured. "These things saith the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of the creation of God." "Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, and the first-begotten from the dead, and the prince of the kings of the earth." (Rev. 3: 14; Rev. 1: 5)

But we cannot yet say, in the language of the twenty-fourth Psalm, which is strictly millennial, "The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof: the world, and they that dwell therein." No; we are still on the ground of the twenty-third Psalm, as the sheep of Christ, in much weakness; and Satan is still "the god of this world," "the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience." Hence the many trials and sorrows by the way, and hence the need of the Lord's refreshing, restoring grace. Satan does all in his power to injure and terrify the sheep of Christ, as they pass through his territory. He lays many snares for their feet, and he gilds many a scene, that he may attract the eye, and take it off the Good Shepherd who goes before them. Well the enemy knows that if they follow closely after Him, all his own snares and attractions are unsuccessful. He who goes before His flock meets the danger or the difficulty, and removes it, before they come up to it, blessed be His name. All difficulties vanish from His presence, and all enemies are powerless before Him. The great lesson to be learnt in the wilderness is entire dependence on the Lord.

When Israel had safely passed through the deep, and stood in triumph, as the Lord's redeemed, on the margin of the desert, their redemption was complete but Canaan was not reached. The wilderness, with all its temptations and difficulties, lay between. The Lord had many lessons to teach His people there. But before they were called to this character of experience, God had made Himself known to them in His grace and power as the great "I AM." In their glorious deliverance out of the land of Egypt, He had acted for them, in pure grace, through the blood of the lamb. Thus far it was grace, without rebuke; so that they ought to have known Him as worthy of all their trust.

As characteristic of the wilderness, the first thing that meets them is a difficulty. "In which direction does our way to Canaan lie?" they might say to each other. There were no roads to be seen; nothing but a trackless desert lay before them. What was now to be done? just what they were always to do, and what the Lord's redeemed should ever do — LOOK UP. There they would see Jehovah Himself, the true Shepherd of Israel, in His cloudy chariot, moving on before them. They were only safe in following Him; having no will, no wish, no way of their own, only to follow Him, in the full assurance that He would lead them by the best way to the promised land. Oh, how happy for Israel had this been the case then! and how happy for us now were we always content thus closely to follow the Lord, "the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls"!

But another and a deeper trial for Israel soon came. The knowledge of accomplished redemption, the full assurance of forgiveness, and the enjoyment of God's favour, never exempt us from trials and disappointments in this world. We have many profitable though painful lessons to learn in the wilderness. But if we never knew want, we could never know relief; and the value of a divine restorative is best known to a fainting soul. "So Moses brought Israel from the Red Sea; and they went out into the wilderness of Shur: and they went three days in the wilderness, and found no water. And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of the waters of Marah, for they were bitter." What a disappointment! At the end of a three days' journey in the wilderness to find no water, and when they did find it, it was bitter. What a trial! But Jehovah, the great "I AM" was there; and faith could say, even in these circumstances, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul." His grace never fails. If I grow faint and weary, "He restoreth my soul." If I forget and fall, "He restoreth my soul." Yes, and more, "He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness, for his name's sake." Gracious Lord! He maintains my soul, in spite of my weakness, in the paths of true holiness. Such is the language of a calm and patient faith. But, on the other hand, the natural heart would reason within itself, and say, Can this be, love? Does the Lord not care for His people, after redeeming them out of the hand of the enemy? Most surely He does: only have patience. He is about to teach them a lesson. which is of present, future and eternal value — a lesson which, when learnt, is worth all the disappointments of the desert to know. This is the object of His perfect love in the present trial.

"And the people murmured against Moses, saying, What shall we drink. And what, we may ask, could the man Moses do in such a state of things? Only, as before said, LOOK UP. "And he cried unto the Lord; and the Lord showed him a tree, which, when he had cast into the waters, the waters were made sweet." Thus the Lord sweetens the bitter waters. It was not their murmurings that sweetened them, nor any means of their own devising, but the Lord's own remedy, and applied according to His own directions. He only can sweeten the bitter cup, but He always can, and He always does — blessed be His name. Better have a bitter cup, and the Lord to sweeten it, than have no bitter cup at all; better far be cast, bound hand and foot, into the fiery furnace, and have the honour and blessing of walking there, in perfect liberty, with "the Son of God," than be saved from going into the furnace. Oh, what a field, my soul, for meditation, is the rich field of experience! Like the hind let loose, roam through it, and feed in it. Shepherds tell us that "variety of pasture is good for the flocks"; and sure thou art, that to be occupied with only a part of God's word, and not with the whole, is to see only one side of truth, and not the truth of God generally. It is thus that many become narrow and confused in their views, and faulty in their faith and practice. In our beautiful and highly instructive Psalm we have the wide, wide field of wilderness life spread out before us.

But we will return to our lesson. What kind of a tree, we may ask, can this be, that changes the bitter waters into sweet? In all the forests of the universe, there is but one tree to be found that can do this. But this tree is a divine specific, it never fails. It is enough to sweeten the bitterest cup that ever was pressed to human lips, and to turn all the bitterness of wilderness experience into the most delectable cup of heavenly blessedness. It was on that tree that Jesus died — that divine love triumphed over human hatred — that God was fully glorified — that sin was utterly abolished — that Satan was completely overthrown — that death was made stingless — that the grave was made powerless — that eternal peace was made for the feeblest of the flock — that the gloomy gates of hell were for ever shut — and the glorious gates of heaven thrown wide open, for all who believe in Him who died upon the tree. This tree, rooted in Calvary, sends its boughs of rich blessing into all the earth, and fills the highest heavens with its ripened fruits. It stands as the moral centre of the universe, and is the brightest display of God's moral glories that can ever be seen or known. Oh, who would not accept the wilderness cup, to be taught thereby the many glories of the Saviour's cross?*

*It will be of interest to many of our readers to know that this paper was written about two weeks before the event — so solemn and sudden to the writer — of July 1st, 1864. Then, as we may say, the, sweet waters, of health, affection and activity were flowing around him. But it is now plain that the Lord, in love, was preparing His servant, through communion with Himself, for what was so near at hand.

"We are by Christ redeemed:

The cost — His precious blood;

Be nothing by our souls esteemed

Like this great good.

To God our weakness clings

Through tribulation sore,

And seeks the covert of His wings

Till all be o'er."

It is always true — true at all times, and true of all saints — that when the Good Shepherd "putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice." This is a truth — a divine principle — of immense value; it has a deep and wide practical bearing. It assures our hearts that, whatever betide, He is at hand — always near; within sight, as we may say, and within the sound of His voice. Yes, and the believer finds in the scene through which the Lord has passed before him such a fragrance of His presence, as not only strengthens, but enriches the soul therein. When — at what time soever, He putteth forth His own sheep, HE goeth before them. See that thou understandest well this precious truth, O my soul; it is the great truth for the sheep of Christ. It affects everything as to thy path through the world. It is thy safeguard in danger — thy victory in conflict — thy light in darkness — thy strength in weakness — thy comfort in sorrow — thy fellowship in solitude — thy brightest hope amidst the deepest gloom. He who is with thee and before thee has tasted the bitterest sorrows of the wilderness, and has passed through the darkest night into the brightest day: and so shalt thou, only follow Him.

This truth, so blessed to the pilgrim, assures us of the Shepherd's care in every step, rough or smooth, of our wilderness journey. He is ever present — He never leaves nor forsakes. And through His perfect knowledge of the way, He confounds the enemy, turning all his hostility to the account of our blessing and His own glory. Blessed fruit, through His grace, of all that befalls poor human nature, when travelling through the deep sand of the desert.

"The Shepherd's bosom bears each lamb

O'er rock, and waste, and wild;

The object of that love I am —

And carried like a child."

"If any man serve me," says the Lord, "let him follow me." He does not say, observe, "let him do this for me, or do that," but "let him follow me." Quietly to wait on the Lord that we may know His will, and faithfully to follow Him, hearkening to the voice of His word, is the most pleasing service we can render to the Lord. Some He may lead into more public, others into more private paths of service, but closely to follow the directions of His word, while looking, by faith, to Himself, is our most acceptable service. And for all such He has left His richest promise. "And where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will my Father honour." (John 12)

These weighty and solemn truths were uttered when the dark shadows of Gethsemane and Calvary were crossing His path. It is comparatively easy to be active for the Lord, and, as it were, to be doing some great thing for Him in a bright and sunny day; but, oh, how difficult to follow Him through the solitudes of His rejection in a homeless world! Who of us can endure, it may be, to be separated from our dearest friends on earth, and to be thought weak and unstable? Who can endure to be in the outside place for the reproach of Christ? These waters are often very bitter. But His love desires that we should know something experimentally of His own path through this world, and the fellowship of His sufferings. It was not enough for the Lord's great love to Abel that he should bear testimony, by his slain lamb, to the truth that death had come by sin; but he was honoured to bear witness in a more solemn way in his own death. Not only was the blood of his lamb shed, but his own blood, as God's witness on the earth. How much more Abel had to do with death in this world than Cain! How significant, and solemnly instructive to all who follow with Abel! But after all, it was the Lord's love to Abel, and the Lord's honour conferred on him.

We have the same great principle, in type, at the waters of Marah. The people knew the value of the blood of the lamb in Egypt, as their safeguard from judgment, and their complete redemption in virtue of that blood. And now the Lord would have them further to know, in their own experience, the unfailing power of the blood for all the vicissitudes of the wilderness. In this way they had to do with death in all their journeyings. They were marching through the wilderness, under the shelter of the blood — the expressive symbol of death. It was on this ground alone that Jehovah could say to Balaam, "I have not seen iniquity in Jacob, nor perverseness in Israel." He does not say, "There is none there," but "I have not seen it." True, it was all in type, but we can easily see what was always uppermost in the Lord's mind, "When I see the blood, I will pass over you." As if the Lord had said, "When I see the blood of the lamb, I see that which glorified me — blotted out sin — destroyed the power of the enemy, and obtained eternal redemption for my beloved people." It left Jehovah free, in all circumstances, to act in pure grace towards the people. They had only to LOOK UP, however naughty they had been, or however sorely they were distressed, and grace flowed — the need was met — the bitter cup was sweetened, and they were freely forgiven.

The blood of the lamb was their divine passport from Egypt to Canaan. Nothing could stand before it; everything yields to its power. If the hosts of Egypt attempt to stop the journeyings of the blood-sprinkled people, they are cast into the depths of the sea; and if all the nations of the earth had sided with them, they must have shared the same fate. "I gave Egypt for thy ransom, Ethiopia and Seba for thee." The deep waters of the Red Sea must make a way for the ransomed of the Lord to pass over; not an hoof was left behind. The manna, the cloud and the living stream from the flinty rock are supplied, all enemies are subdued, and every need is met in virtue of the same precious blood. And though the river of death, at the end of their journeyings, overflowed all its banks, and Jericho walled to heaven, as the threatening rage of the enemy, and the tokens of his power, they present no barrier to the infinite power of the blood. But where is its power not felt and owned, willingly or unwillingly? It rent the veil of heaven, and unlocked the portals of the grave. What is higher than heaven? What is deeper than hell? (Matt. 27: 50-53.)

But we are all prone to forget, like Israel of old, what the Lord has done for us — what bitter cup He drank for us — and that we carry through the wilderness with us the same "token" of His unchanging love. Hence, we often need to get a taste of the bitter in order to remind us of that which alone can sweeten; and that all the difficulties, trials and temptations of this life are to be borne in fellowship with Him. This His love desires. He has gone through them all for us, and that with infinite patience, meekness and wisdom, as an example to us. And, oh! wondrous grace, He allows to us in our afflictions a ministry of love, sympathy and kindness, which He allowed not Himself. He was forsaken of God in His sore distress — He was surrounded by the violence and rage of His shameless enemies, who gaped upon Him with their mouths like ravening and roaring lions. All refuge failed Him, comforters there were none. (Ps. 22: 1-21)

This was for us; there He drank the bitter cup of God's wrath against sin. And He will have us to know Him there in love for us. And we have to learn by experience, however painful the lesson, that nothing but the bitter cup, of Calvary can sweeten the bitter cup of Marah. In other words, the sympathies of His heart who died there, are alone sufficient to soothe the sorrows of ours. But glory be to God, who gave His Son, we find all in Jesus. His cross is ours — His heart is ours. The full value of the cross is ours; the tender, boundless sympathies of His heart are ours — ours now — ours for ever. Oh! wonderful, precious, blessed truth! What more do we need? The cross and heart of Jesus — ours. Eternal springs of all blessing! The blest though bitter waters of Marah lead to a deeper knowledge of Calvary; and the deep and painful need of a broken heart, to deeper fellowship with His. He could say, and in truth, as none else ever could, "Reproach hath broken my heart." Yes, and more, in place of the tender sympathies of fellow-pilgrims, which His people so abundantly enjoy, He had to add — "And I am full of heaviness; and I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none." (Ps. 69) Oh! what a refuge we have in the once broken and desolate heart of Jesus!

"Jesus, my All in all Thou art,

My rest in toil, my case in pain;

The medicine of my broken heart;

'Mid storms, my peace; in loss, my gain;

My smile beneath the tyrant's frown;

In shame, my glory and my crown.

In want, my plentiful supply:

In weakness, my almighty power;

In bonds, my perfect liberty;

My refuge in temptation's hour;

My comfort 'midst all grief and thrall,

My life in death, my All in all."

When the Lord has thus brought us down to a true sense of our own weakness, and to more real dependence on His unfailing strength and constant care, the purposes of His tender love are answered. The deeper the trial, the stronger the expression of His love. And now we can say, in the rich experience of our souls, "HE restoreth my soul." Not the green pastures and the still waters, pleasant and excellent as these are — no; but the Lord Himself. The path becomes more and more individualised; there must be greater nearness to the Lord as our Shepherd, and more direct fellowship with Himself. "HE restoreth my soul: HE leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake."

"Alone with Thee, my God! alone with Thee!

Thus wouldst Thou have it still — thus let it be.

There is a secret chamber in each mind,

Which none can find

But He who, made it — none beside can know

Its joy or woe.

Oft may I enter it, oppressed by care,

And find Thee there;

So full of watchful love, Thou knowest the why

Of every sigh,

Then all Thy righteous dealing shall I see,

Alone with Thee, my, God! alone with Thee!

"The joys of earth are like a summer's day.

Fading away,:

But in the twilight we may better trace

Thy wondrous grace.

The homes of earth are emptied oft by death

With chilling breath;

The loved departed guest may ope no more

The well-known door.

Still in that chamber sealed, Thou'lt dwell with me,

And I with Thee, my God! alone with Thee!

"The world's false voice would bid me enter not

That hallowed spot;

And earthly thoughts would follow on the track,

To hold me back,

Or seek to break the sacred peace within,

With this world's din.

But, by Thy grace, I'll cast them all aside,

Whate'er betide,

And never let that cell deserted be,

Where I may dwell alone, my God, with Thee!

"The war may rage! — keep Thou the citadel,

And all is well.

And when I learn the fulness of Thy love,

With Thee above —

When every heart oppressed by hidden grief

Shall gain relief —

When every weary soul shall find its rest

Amidst the blest —

Then all my heart from sin and sorrow free,

Shall be a temple meet, my God, for Thee."

Before passing on to the fourth verse which gives a still deeper shade of wilderness trials and sorrows, we would turn for a moment to another use and application of "a tree," which may be for our edification.

In 2 Kings 6: 1-7 we have an account of "the sons of the prophets" going to the banks of the Jordan to cut down beams of trees, for the purpose of enlarging their dwelling-place. "And the sons of the prophets said unto Elisha, Behold now, the place where we dwell with thee is too strait for us. Let us go, we pray thee, unto Jordan, and take thence every man a beam, and let us make us a place there, where we may dwell. And he answered, Go ye." The young prophets, very wisely, secure the presence of Elisha with them. He consents to go, and works a miracle there, which saves them from the loss of the head of the borrowed axe. "And one said, Be content, I pray thee, and go with thy servants. And he answered, I will go. So he went with them. And when they came to Jordan, they cut down wood. But as one was felling a beam, the axe head fell into the water: and he cried, and said, Alas, master! for it was borrowed. And the man of God said, Where fell it? And he showed him the place. And he cut down a stick, and cast it in thither; and the iron did swim. Therefore said he, Take it up to thee. And he put out his hand, and took it."

Some have thought that there is a deep typical meaning in this apparently unimportant incident; others have been afraid to press it as such. But surely, at any rate, it is a striking illustration of resurrection-life and power. As to the typical meaning of Jordan, all are agreed. It is the type of death. And as for "the axe head," it lay as lost and dead in its depths. And what is deeply interesting, and instructive, too, in connection with this miracle, Elisha was, typically, the resurrection-life prophet. He passed through the river of death in company with Elijah, and started on his ministry of grace and resurrection-power from the point of the ascended prophet. (2 Kings 2) Elijah's ministry, on the contrary, was judicial in its character. He started, we may say, from Sinai, which stamped its character on his miracles. He shut the heavens over a rebellious people, "and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six months." And he called down fire from heaven on the captains of the idolatrous king of Israel. At Horeb he became linked up with the broken law, and the responsibility of the people, so that his ministry called for judgment.

But Elisha starts from resurrection ground, and with his eye, as it were, on the ascended man. This is the place of God's measureless grace — the place of the risen Christ Himself, and the saved myriads that joyfully cluster around Him. Scarcely had the two prophets crossed the Jordan, when Elijah proposed blessing to Elisha, according to the desires of his heart. Not now, observe, according to law, or earthly promise, but according to his heart's desire. "And it came to pass, when they had gone over, that Elijah said unto Elisha, Ask what I shall do for thee, before I be taken away from thee. And Elisha said, I pray thee, let a double portion of thy spirit be upon me." They had left the land of law and earthly promise behind them; and death, the judgment of God against sin, was past, so that He was free to bless. This is grace, and most significant as to the character of Elisha's mission, and of God's way in grace, through the death and resurrection of Christ down to the present time.

Here pause for a moment, my soul, and meditate on this instructive scene. God begins His work where sin, Satan and all evil cease from theirs. He quickens the dead. No evil can ever cross the grave of Christ. The path of life, and holy, happy liberty, is beyond the domain of death. Elisha, observe, now returns to Israel; but all is changed. He acts in grace, according to the new condition of things. Sweet foreshadowing of the risen Jesus, who died for us, and for God's glory, so that His grace flows forth freely to the children of men now, and will do so abundantly to Israel in the latter day. Elisha tarries at Jericho, the place of the curse; but he brings in the power of God in blessing, and removes the curse, and heals the spring of waters, so that there would be no more death or barren land. "And the men of the city said unto Elisha, Behold, I pray thee, the situation of this city is pleasant, as my lord seeth: but the water is naught, and the ground barren. And he said, Bring me a new cruse, and put salt therein. And they brought it to him. And he went forth unto the spring of the waters, and cast the salt in there, and said, Thus saith the Lord, I have healed these waters; there shall not be from thence any more death or barren land. So the waters were healed unto this day, according to the saying of Elisha which he spake."

Salt is a well-known symbol in scripture. Here it represents the healing power of grace, as flowing through the death and resurrection of Christ. The whole scene is richly and permanently blessed. Evil is overcome; the curse is removed from the ground — the world — and especially from His people Israel; and the spring of waters — the fountain of blessing — secured for ever. The "new cruse" may shadow forth the renewed condition of all things under Christ in the latter day. The prophet next proceeds to Bethel, which, we know, speaks of God's unchangeable faithfulness to Jacob and to his seed for ever. Now he links the people with the sovereign counsels of God's love and grace towards them. From thence the prophet goes to Carmel, which tells us of the fruitful land, thus connecting the people with the faithfulness of Jehovah, and the abundance of the land. What grace! The curse removed — evil put away — the scene purified — the spring of waters healed — the God of Bethel known and enjoyed; and the blessings of Carmel covering the land like a fruitful field. Nevertheless — oh, most solemn and weighty warning for the present moment, as well as for all time — if the testimony of the grace of God be despised, and His messengers mocked, judgment must take its course. (2 Kings 2: 20, 21)

Thus, in my meditations, have my thoughts traced, and retraced, the mystic path of these two great servants of God in this wonderful second chapter, though professedly meditating on the miracle in the sixth. But the ground we have gone over sheds wondrous light on the miracle. It now looks more like a passage in Ephesians or in 1 Peter. "And you hath he quickened who were dead, in trespasses and sins." "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which, according to his abundant mercy, hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead."

There is no power to save the lost, or to quicken the dead soul, but the cross of Christ. When the tree is cast into the waters, the iron swims. The moment the cross is seen by faith, and applied by the Holy Spirit, the soul is quickened together with Christ, raised up, together, and made to sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus'. All this takes place in virtue of our union with Christ, when we believe in His name, and trust in His cross. But, alas, till then, the soul, however light, gay and active or otherwise, is, morally and spiritually, in the place of death. Oh, that poor, thoughtless, Christless souls would think of that now! What a condition to be in! The place of death — the cold depths of the river of death! What a lowering, what a sinking, of an immortal soul — a soul that grace can render capable of enjoying God, and His Son, and the full glories of heavenly blessedness for ever!

Where, oh where, let me ask, is my reader at this moment? In the depths or on the heights? It must be either the one or the other. There is no middle place. To die in the former state is to be there for ever, in the depths of anguish and despair. There can be no change after death. And wilt thou, O thoughtless one, sell thy eternal happiness for a moment's present gratification? Why be so unreasonable. so cruel to thine own soul? Was it wise in Esau to sell the whole land of Canaan for a mess of pottage, because he could enjoy the latter at a moment? Wouldst thou call this manly, noble or high-spirited? And is it wise in thee to sell the heavenly Canaan for that which can be enjoyed only for a moment in this world? Do think of all this, my dear fellow-sinner. Thy present life is most uncertain; and what an agony to those left behind were there no hope in thy death! And what an eternity — thine! What could sweeten such a bitter cup as this, or change its wormwood and it gall? Oh, then, from every consideration, look to Jesus now — just now — before laying down this page. Let thine eyes and thine heart he lifted up, to Him. "Look unto me," He says, "and be ye saved." The great work of redemption was finished on the cross; there is nothing for thee to wait for. "It is finished!" Only look to Him, believing this, and thou art surely and for ever saved.

"When the harvest is past, and the summer is gone,

And sermons and, prayers shall be o'er;

When the beams cease to break of the sweet Sabbath morn,

And Jesus invites thee no more;

When the rich gales of mercy no longer shall blow,

The gospel no message declare;

Sinner, how canst thou bear the deep wailings of woe

How suffer the night of despair?

When the holy have gone to the regions of peace,

To dwell in the mansions above;

When their harmony wakes, in the fulness of bliss,

Their song to the Saviour they love;-

Say, O sinner, that livest at rest and secure,

Who fearest no trouble to come,

Can thy spirit the wailings of sorrow endure,

Or bear the impenitent's doom?"

But some, I know, are ready to say, by way of excusing themselves, that if they are as dead as the iron at the bottom of the stream, they must be entirely passive in the work of conversion. There is some truth in this remark, but it is far from being the whole truth. The soul is dead as regards God and spiritual things, but it is all alive as regards this world. There is no heart or energy for Christ and His salvation, but there is plenty of both for present things; and scripture presses, in innumerable places, the responsibility of the sinner. It assures him that the work by which alone he can be saved is finished, and that he has only to believe it on the sure testimony of God Himself; and, thus believing it, he is saved, and finds present and eternal rest in Jesus.

"Will thou go with this man?" is a plain question. And where is the sinner — active and intelligent as to present things — who cannot answer, Yes, or No?

"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." "And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil." "If we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater: for this is the witness of God which he hath testified of his Son. He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness [or testimony] in himself; he that believeth not God hath made him a liar; because he believeth not the record that God gave of his Son." "WHOSOEVER shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved." (Acts 16: 31; John 3: 19; 1 John 5: 9, 10; Rom. 10: 13.)

Thus we find in types and shadows, truths and substance, that there is no virtue for the soul apart from Christ — from Christ crucified. The knowledge of Jesus, His love, His cross, quickens the dead sinner, and gives him a place with the risen Jesus. It strengthens the weak saint — upholds the fainting spirit — comforts those that are in trouble and bowed down. It destroys the power of the waters of Jordan, and sweetens the waters of Marah.

Psalm 23: 4. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." This verse of our beautiful Psalm is generally spoken of as descriptive of the believer's experience in the passage of death — the death of the body. "The valley" is generally viewed as the path that lies between the two regions of life; and, though dark and dismal, the saint of God, having the Shepherd's rod to guide, and His staff to comfort him, need fear no evil.

Most truly, there is every reason for the departing soul calmly to trust the Lord at that solemn moment, and during that brief but mysterious passage; but we do not think the text refers, merely, to the believer's experience in his own death, but rather to the dark shadow which the death of another may cast on his path. To the departing one all shadows flee away. To those left behind they may be dark and heavy. For example:

A dear and loved fellow-pilgrim has been called up higher. His or her place is empty. The broken circle is overwhelmed in sorrow. The whole scene below is clouded. The pallor of death shades everything to the eye, and in the felt loneliness of the bereaved heart, the path, once so bright and joyous, has been turned into "the valley of the shadow of death." But the happy soul of the dear departed rests in the pure light of God, and in the unmingled blessedness of His presence.

"No shadows yonder — all light and song;

Each day I wander; and say, How long

Shall time me sunder from that dear throng?

No weeping yonder — all fled away!

While here I wander each weary day,

And sigh, as I ponder my long, long stay.

No partings yonder! — time and space never

Again shall sunder — hearts cannot sever —

Dearer and fonder, hands clasp for ever

None wanting yonder; — bought by the Lamb,

All gathered under the ever green palm,

Loud as night's thunder ascends the glad psalm."

In the text, we doubt not, it is the shadow of death that the pilgrim speaks of walking through, and of his experience therein, not of death itself. Were it his own death, surely it would not be called a shadow. To go through death, and to go mourning through its shadows, are widely different.

Here pause for a moment, O my soul. Such experience demands thy calm and deep meditation. In the whole realm of creation no event is more solemn. The sanctuary is thy proper place. God's eye, His word and Spirit, alone can guide.

The experience of the believer is changed, though still under the Shepherd's tender care and mighty hand. Yes — everything is changed — changed as from light to darkness — as from joy to sorrow — as from strength to weakness. What a change! In the third verse the pilgrim tastes the waters of Marah; in the fourth he is plunged into them. But the Lord Himself has done it. It must be well and wise and good; it must be the strongest expression of His love, and of His Shepherd care. "Thou art with me" — Thou, O Lord, who knowest the taste of the waters, and the depths of the waters too, as none of Thy people ever can know.

A loved one may be ill, very ill, all hope of recovery may be gone; still the soul is present in the body, and thoughts may be exchanged. But the moment the soul has passed into the unseen world, this ceases absolutely — irretrievably ceases. The dear departed one may love as ever, nay, infinitely more than ever, for "God is love," and heaven is its home. The love of the bereaved may be quickened into a burning flame, and the desire to express it may be intensified a thousand-fold, but there is no more communication of thought — no exchange of affection. The dark impenetrable veil that separates the two states of being must not be passed. Faith alone may cross the threshold, and see the departed one resting — at home — with Jesus — in the Paradise of God. For a moment the eye is bright — something like gladness passes through the mind; but a tender recollection touches the heart — the eye is dimmed — and sadness presses down the weary soul. Everything, save the blessed Lord Himself, seems gone; but He is near, very near, blessed be His name. "Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."

"Be still, my soul! — when dearest friends depart,

And all is darkened in the vale of tears,

Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,

Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.

Be still, my soul! — thy Jesus can repay

From His own fulness all He takes away."

Could there be, however far apart, only the means of exchanging our thoughts and affections, it would no longer be death. We may often be parted from each other in this life without the thought ever crossing the mind that we have suffered loss. Letters go and come; the path of the absent one may be traced and the joys of return anticipated. This is life — the object of affection is possessed. It is neither death nor its dark shadow. But from the moment that the Lord has taken the soul to Himself, all such communion is at an end. The awful fact of separation is felt. The heart may burn with the purest affection, for love never faileth — the whole soul may long to say something to, and to hear something from, the loved departed, but all is in vain. The body may be there still, and every feature may only seem in calm, repose; but that which thought, loved, intended, remembered, is gone. Stillness reigns — the stillness that is indescribable. You cannot awaken the sleeping one. The heart that would have been removed to its depths by a sigh, or melted by a tear, hears not the deepest wail and sees not the flowing tears. This is death — the death of the mortal body. And to those that are left behind, it is "the valley of the shadow of death." And so dense is that shadow sometimes in this weary wilderness, that even the heavenly orbs seem changed, and shine differently.

At such a time the enemy is sure to assail the distressed soul, from all points, with his fiery darts. A thousand thoughts may be suggested from the past. A lifetime may be reviewed in a moment by a mind in agony. Time misspent — precious opportunities allowed to pass unimproved may be amongst the accusations of the foe. In such overwhelming circumstances nothing but the firm footing of God's own plain statement of truth could bear up the stricken soul. But the Good and Great Shepherd is near. He causeth His voice to be heard. The eye is turned to Him. He lifts the fainting soul, folds it in His bosom, and bears it far above from its mere human feelings and spiritual foes. What would such trials and conflicts be could we not say in truth, "Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me"?

Nothing can now be known of the condition and occupation of the loved departed, save that which holy scripture reveals. But, oh, blessed be the God of all grace! the light of a cloudless sky rests on the whole scene — the beams of divine light break through the darkness of these darkest of earthly days — we can see behind the veil. From the chamber of death, to the house of many mansions, a bright pathway has been consecrated for the believer by the risen and victorious Christ. The light of the glory "is now made manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gospel." (2 Tim. 1: 10)

Glorious truth! precious certainty for the believer — for every believer in Christ Jesus — death was abolished on the cross, and triumphed over in the resurrection of Jesus; and by the gospel, eternal life to the soul, and incorruptibility to the body, have been brought into the clearest, fullest light. There may be great feebleness on the part of many Christians, in apprehending these all-precious truths, but the blessed facts remain the same. They are all connected with the Person of Christ: and from the moment that He is received and trusted, the believer is associated with Him beyond the power of death and the grave. "I know," says the apostle, "whom I have believed [trusted, margin], and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day." (Ver. 12) Christ, personally, was his one object. All that was dear to the apostle, right on to the glory, was committed to Him.

What truths — what comfort for the soul that is passing through the dark valley! Death annulled — the eternal life of the soul possessed — the incorruptibility of the body secured. Such is the sure portion of all who have fallen asleep in Jesus — of all who can say with the apostle, "I know whom I have trusted," of all who are simply looking by faith to Jesus, and resting on Him alone for salvation.

"THE FORMER THINGS ARE PASSED AWAY."

"Oh, she's reached the sunny shore,

Over there

She will suffer never more,

All her pain and grief is o'er,

Over there!

"Oh, the streets are shining gold,

Over there!

And the glory is untold,

'Tis our Shepherd's peaceful fold,

Over there

"Oh, she feels no chilling blast,

Over there! For her winter-time is past,

And the summers always last,

Over there

"Oh, she's done the weary fight,

Over there

Jesus saved her by His might

And she walks with Him in white,

Over there!

"Oh, she needs no lamp at night,

Over there!

For the day is always bright,

And the Saviour is her light.

Over there

Oh, she never sheds a tear,

Over there!

For the Lord Himself is near,

And to Him she's ever dear,

Over there!

"GOD IS LOVE."

"MY BELOVED SPAKE, AND SAID UNTO ME, RISE UP, MY LOVE, MY FAIR ONE, AND COME AWAY. FOR, LO, THE WINTER IS PAST, THE RAIN IS OVER AND GONE."

Here meditate, O my soul, on this wondrous revelation — this bursting forth of light, and living strength from the dark, and hitherto unknown, regions of the tomb. The victory is complete! Christ has personally gone through the straits of death, and cleared the passage for all His followers, of every difficulty and danger. He who was in the lowest parts of the earth is now in glory. And from that glory - the glory of God in the risen Man — divine light now shines in these low and lonely depths. The gloom of death is dissipated — the darkness of the grave illuminated — the shadows of death are only on the human side, and felt by our poor human hearts.

Death itself, by man the justly styled King of Terrors, is completely vanquished! Every circumstance of death and the grave is mastered for ever. The Lord is risen from among the dead, and associates us with Himself in resurrection-life, power and glory. What a blessed position to be brought into! We stand on the same triumphant ground as the Conqueror Himself, and enjoy, with Him, the spoils of His victories.

What is death? What is the passage of death? What are the issues of death? are questions that had never been fully answered in scripture until now. Up till the time that the blessed Lord appeared, died, rose again, and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel, comparatively little was known on these solemn subjects. No doubt godly souls in Old Testament times, who had been taught of the Spirit to trust God through all their pilgrim days, could quietly trust Him in the hour of their departure. The last glimpse we have of Jacob is truly beautiful. We see him as an aged pilgrim, leaning on his staff, worshipping the living God. And the picture of Joseph is that of peace and victory. "By faith Jacob, when he was a dying, blessed both the sons of Joseph; and worshipped, leaning upon the top of his staff. By faith Joseph, when he died, made mention of the departing of the children of Israel; and gave commandment concerning his bones." (Heb. 11: 21, 22.)

But to the Jew, as such, the subject of death was necessarily a more gloomy one than it is to the Christian; consequently, the application of verse 4 (Ps. 23: 4) would be somewhat different to the latter. It is of the Jews that the apostle speaks when he says, "who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bandage." Christians may get into this state of mind, and some may never have been in any other, but it is certainly contrary to the cheering light and happy liberty of the gospel. Such, we fear, have never seen, or understood, the death and resurrection of Christ, as God's great principle of blessing to the Christian. This is the alone ground of peace with God, oneness with Christ, and of full liberty from the fear of death.

Again, to the Jew, as such, this world was the land of the living. It was the place of his blessing; and the great promise to obedience was, "That thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." "I had fainted," said the psalmist, "unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." (Ps. 27: 13.) But to the Christian, we may say, it is the land of the dying. "I protest," says Paul . . . "I die daily." It is also the land of death — the death of the Lord Jesus Christ; consequently it is the valley of the shadow of death. The cross has thrown its dark shadow over the whole scene. And where, it may be asked, is the place of the Christian's joy and blessing? In heavenly places in Christ.

Heaven is the Christian's home; he is from home in this world. As men, we speak of the place where we were born as our natural place; then is the Christian entitled to speak of heaven as his natural place. He is born of God — born from above. And the place, circumstances, and company that are suited and proper to his nature as a child of God, are on high. And never, never, until he reaches the shores of his fatherland. shall he breathe his native air, or know what the feeling of home means. Hence, the instinctive longings and desires of the heart to reach his father's house are only natural.

"My cheerful soul now all the day

Sits waiting here and sings;

Looks through the ruin of her clay,

And practises her wings.

Faith almost changes into sight,

While from afar she spies

Her fair inheritance in light,

Above created skies.

Some rays of heaven break sweetly in

At all the opening flaws;

Visions of endless bliss are seen,

And native air she draws."

Here, in this body of sin and death, and sojourning in a world of evil where Christ was crucified, we may have much and most blessed fellowship with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Ghost. But this is the effect of grace in the midst of evil, and of the Holy Ghost's presence in the believer. The Father cares for the children — the Shepherd cares for the sheep, and the Holy Ghost's presence on the earth is the power by which we enjoy our inheritance on high.

This is a great truth, my soul; the truth, I mean, as to thy new birth — thy new life — that thou art born of God — born from above — quickened together with Christ. What then? What flows therefrom? That thou art a child of God — an heir of God — a joint-heir with Christ, and placed in Him, far, far above the power of death and the grave. Meditate, I repeat, O meditate, deeply, patiently, on what is involved in this most marvellous truth. The knowledge thereof will go far to explain thy wilderness experience, relieve thee