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obscure and difficult. "We know not the way of the Spirit." Easily may we involve ourself and our readers in some cloud of empty metaphysical subtleties, or make shipwreck on the rock of some

hidden fallacy. We shall therefore confine our observations to a few clear and prominent points, such as follow.

(To be continued.)

THE CHURCH IN HER CONSCIOUS WEAKNESS.

"Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?”— Song viii. 5.

THIS is a precious and deeply interesting scene, which is opened out to the spiritual mind, the bride coming up from the wilderness leaning upon her Beloved. For it is only the Spirit-taught Christian that can enter into those sublime and heart-stirring representations of that sacred and everlasting relationship which subsists between our gracious Emmanuel and His ransomed church. The carnal mind can see nothing of this, yea, it is foolishness unto them; and however little of these glorious mysteries we are able, in our present state, to comprehend, yet let us rejoice that our covenant God in Christ has made known to us some thing of the height and depth, the length and breadth, of His amazing love.

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will not let thee go." Earth has no attractions now; she is in the company of her dear Friend, on whom she rolls her every burden, and by His arm she is enabled to pass over briars and thorns, for her faith is saying, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me (Phil. iv. 13): and her Beloved is whispering, "My grace is sufficient for thee." And then she remembers what her heavenly Guide has been to her since they commenced the journey. She thinks of the time when He found her in Egypt, and brought her out from her state of slavery and cruel bondage, and cast all her sins, that mighty Egyptian army, into the depths of the sea. But, oh, the wilderness "Who is this that cometh up from journey! varied have been the scenes the wilderness, leaning upon her Be- she has passed through, but amid all her loved?" This question, it is thought Beloved was with her. To Him she by some, is asked by the Beloved him- could unbosom every thought; His ear self; thus He attracts attention to those was open to her every complaint. interesting facts, namely, the helpless-"What is it that I should do for thee?" ness of His bride, and the support she is receiving, and that from the Beloved of her soul. She is represented as leaning on her Beloved; but He is her Beloved! Precious appropriation! Precious privileges! Oh, what nearness! what fel. lowship! what hallowed intercourse! Blessed helplessness that brings the soul into such a sacred position. The bride is resting on the arm of her Lord; His arm of power, His arm of defence: that" because I live, thou shalt live also." arm on which she prays to be set as a seal. She feels her weakness, and tired with the journey, she leans heavier and clings closer to her precious Friend. He is dearer to her than ever; the more so on account of her felt weakness. She had, in times past, wandered from Him, and had suffered deeply from the hiding of His face; therefore she cleaves closer, and in the language of faith says, "I

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was His constant inquiry, His heart's affections were set upon her, and His language to her was, I have loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee” (Jer. xxxi. 3); and amidst all dangers and difficulties by the way, her Beloved was her guide and defence, cheering her with His gracious whisperings, "Fear not, no evil shall befall thee, thou art mine"

And now they are coming up from the
wilderness, and she is about leaving all
behind her, and expects shortly to arrive
with her Beloved at His mansion in
glory. Oh, the blessed anticipation and
bright prospects that are opening to her
view! For her precious Friend, as they
travelled, had told her something of the
glory that is shortly to be revealed;
in His Father's house there are many

that

mansions (John xiv. 2), and the glory | but that He loved us, and sent His Son that His Father had given Him He had to be the propitiation for our sins." given to her (John xvii. 22); and that ere long she would sit with Him on His throne (Rev. iii. 21), and behold the Lord her King in all His beauty. These communications endear her Beloved still more, but they humble her to the dust, while they fill her heart with gratitude and joy; for she forgets not what she was when her gracious Lord found her, and made her His, and all the kindness and love manifested to her during, it may be, a long and dangerous journey: but it is nearly ended, and she will shortly arrive at the celestial city, to be for ever with her Lord.

Thus have we, beloved friends, taken a brief view of the bride coming up from the wilderness. But mysterious and exalted as are the representations given in that precious book, the Canticles, yet such is the high standing of each of the Lord's redeemed, and such the holy fellowship to be enjoyed; and such is the intense love which our Jehovah Jesus bears towards His everlastingly saved people. Surely the solemn and tragic scene on Calvary bears witness to it.

Oh! if we could enter more than we do into the union which subsists between Christ and His Church, and the consequent love He bears towards her, so much the more would our love be manifest towards Him. It is low or faint views of our gracious Lord, and His people's standing in Him, that is the cause of our want of holy joy, which is our privilege to experience. It was the apostle's desire that the brethren to whom he wrote should rejoice in the Lord. Oh! when we take a view of the stupendous work of redemption, little of it as we can scan with our clouded vision; and when we think that Jesus is spoken of as the Lamb slain from before the foundation of the world; so that we are led back to the everlasting ages for the commencement of that love which glowed in the heart of the Saviour, and which every victim upon the Jewish altar foreshadowed; for they not only told of sin, but of love, in the blotting out of transgression by sacrifice-the Lamb instead of the sinner, but Jesus instead of His Church. Therefore we are led to exclaim with the apostle John, "Herein is love, not that we loved God,

How vast His love, when we think how He condescends to stand related to us in that mysterious covenant into which He entered on behalf of His Church, and the sacred bond which unites member to member, and all to their glorious Head. And also what He is now transacting for us within the vail, listening to our cry or inward groan, presenting our poor petitions, managing our affairs, and overruling all for our good and His own glory. Standing also before His Father as the representative of His bride, the Church; having engaged to bring her safe to glory, and to present her without a spot. Ought not these considerations to cause our hearts to burn, while we extol the riches of sovereign grace? Oh, that we did really believe the love that dwells in the bosom of our covenant God, Father, Son, and Spirit, towards the objects of that love; if we did, doubts would be removed, and Satan disappointed, who is ever ready to cause us to doubt and fear, which is so dishonourable to our blessed Jesus. And surely the fact of the bride in the Song, leaning on her Beloved, was a proof of her consciousness of His love to her. She waits not to ask permission, but feeling her weakness, and being assured of His love, she then rolls her burden upon Him. Oh, that we may go and do likewise, for our Jesus waiteth to be gracious, stoops to receive our burdens, and lends a listening ear to our complaints.

But it may be profitable for us to observe, that the bride brought before us had travelled long in the way; but we find her more in the attitude of dependence than ever. Surely this must be the experience of every child of God as they proceed on in their spiritual journey; they have been taught many a painful lesson, and are brought to feel that in themselves they are utter weakness, but by the gracious teaching of the Spirit they know where their strength lies, and are led to rest on the arm of their tried Friend.

And now we would ask the question, Did that arm ever fail us? Did we ever take a burden of any description, and Jesus refuse to receive it? Did He ever say to the seed of Jacob, Seek ye me in

vain? No, it cannot be; the mountains | dependence. We cannot lean too heavy may depart and the hills be removed, on our gracious Friend. He bore our but the lovingkindness of our covenant sins and sorrows, and bowed under the God will not, yea, cannot depart; for tremendous weight of our curse; and He is engaged by oath and promise to will He not sustain us under our diffibe with His people whithersoever they culties and trials? May we, beloved are; and there is a promise for every readers, who know something of this circumstance, and a balm for every amazing love, believe and rejoice in it, wound in the precious blood of the ever- whilst it lays us in the dust before Him. lasting covenant, and in the overflowing Oh, may our faith grasp those precious, love of our Jehovah Jesus. God-exalting truths, and live upon them, and to Him shall be all the glory! Dublin. M. E. L.

Oh, then, let us be found in the attitude of the bride in all her weakness and

VICTORY, VICTORY THROUGH THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB.

To the Editor of the Gospel Magazine.

REV. AND DEAR SIR,-The following the 1st chapter of the Revelation, and contains a short account of my dear went to prayer. His prayers, though aged parent, Mr. Williams, of Deptford, indistinctly spoken, were sweet and many years a subscriber to the Gospel pithy. He spoke of the dear Lord as Magazine, when edited by Walter Row. the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and David says in the 1st Psalm, "Blessed the ending of his religion. The last is the man whose delight is in the Lord; time I heard him ask a blessing at tea, and in His law doth lie meditate day and which we had to listen to with great night." This blessedness our dear attention as he spoke so inward, after father was in possession of in this life; speaking of the preciousness of Christ and now his spirit has gone to that as the bread of eternal life, he concluded place of rest which the Lord hath pre- thus, "He shall be our confidence; pared for him, to enjoy the blessedness shall be our praise; He shall be our of it to all eternity. He was blest in glory, for ever and ever." At another many respects in this world; preserved time he said, "Lord, what a change! in tolerable good health till he was beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for turned 82 years of age; blest with chil- mourning, the garment of praise for dren and grandchildren, many of whom the spirit of heaviness!" are also enabled to take delight in God's holy Word. May their dear old parent's prayer be heard, "That not a hoof may be left behind to perish."

The last two months of his life he suffered from great debility and the dropsy, but felt no pain of body; but was at times sadly tormented in his mind by the great enemy of souls, which caused him ofttimes to groan heavily within, and to cry to the strong for strength. About ten days before his death he had a very severe fainting fit, when we thought the change was come; but as he revived he smiled at our fears, and thought them needless. Poor soul, be feared the pains of death, but he never felt them. There was, however, a change in him from that time, but as the outward man decayed, the inward man was renewed day by day. After he revived from fainting, he tried to read

He

Our dear father, since the death of Mr. Burgess, had ministered to a little knot at his own house; their numbers at first were eleven, but death had brought them down to three. The first Sunday in May he was too weak to break bread with them; but on the second Sunday, feeling a little better, he said to his partner in life, "Get the cups." She thought him too weak. But he said, "Get them." And a most blessed revival time it was. I consider it a blessed close to his ministrations, and a sealing testimony of the Holy Spirit. We find it recorded in holy writ, the dying words of the dear saints; and we feel it right to record the dying words of a dear parent. He took a final leave of two of his grandsons; blessed them in the name of the Lord; begged them to seek the Lord and His grace; spoke of Him as his gracious

Saviour; that above sixty years ago He!
had blotted out his sins as a thick cloud.
On the 19th of May he closed his mortal
career. The 45th and 46th Psalm had
been read to him, when he engaged in
prayer as usual, and went to bed about
seven o'clock; he had not been in bed
above five minutes when his dear
partner heard something of a rushing
noise. She looked at him, and per-
ceived a change in him; he opened his
eyes, and then closed them again, and
his spirit departed without the least
sigh or movement. Thus died the dear
aged saint, known and respected by
many of the dear children of God. In
prayer
he would name many of the dear
saints by name, Mr. Doudney was one.
"Why should we mourn departing friends,

Or shake at death's alarms;
'Tis but the voice of Jesus calls,

To bear them to His arms."
Mr. Abrahams preached his funeral
sermon from these words, "And when
Jacob had made an end of commanding
his sons, he gathered up bis feet into the
bed, and yielded up the ghost, and was
gathered unto his people" (Gen. xlix.
33). Truly we can say with the poet,
as quite applicable to him, which hymn
was sung at his funeral,

"His heart, though once a slave to sin,
Was sprinkled o'er with blood;
As all the race redeemed have been,
Who walk on earth with God.
"His end was peace, yet ere he reached
The bright prepared abode,
The holy man of judgment preached,
And walked by faith with God."

I send you two of his letters, together with one of dear Mr. Keyt's, for insertion if you think proper. If you approve,

I will send more another time.
Yours, I trust, in the bonds of the
gospel,

R. F.

[No part of our Editorial work is more touching than having to record the removal of the Lord's beloved servants. There is, at the same time, a peculiar satisfaction in being permitted to be, in any humble degree, instrumental in bearing testimony to the love, all-sufficiency, and divine faithfulness of our God. Every vessel of mercy brought off more than conqueror is a standing and a lively evidence of this; and, as such, we love to record it to the glory of our God-to the confusion of Satan-and to the comfort and establishment of the dear household of faith.

It was our privilege, some years ago, to see the aged pilgrim whose departure is announced in the foregoing letter. The recollection of his calling upon us, when very much engaged in the great city, has never been obliterated. His warmth, and cheerfulness, and brotherlike bearing, has never been forgotten; and we have often since wondered whether he had reached home! We

rejoice, therefore, in the foregoing testimony, and will afresh bless and praise our God, for "all those who have departed in the true faith of His holy beloved fellow-pilgrims, that your time name." How precious is the thought, and our own is rapidly approaching, when the same Divine faithfulness will be exercised towards us, and the same almighty hand guide us and support us safely through the Jordan.

"Are we not tending upwards too,

As fast as time can move? Nor do we wish the hours more slow, To keep us from our love." Blessed, blessed prospect! The Lord our God be praised for the rich and gracious bestowment of it.-ED.]

"OH, I WISH I WERE RICH, AND I WOULD DO SO AND SO."

A LADY, who was in middling circumstances, used to devote a great part of her time, energy, and means, to the relief of the poor around her. Suddenly she became rich, but all her care for the poor vanished. A friend, on observing this, ventured to expostulate with the

lady on the subject.

"Alas!" she replied, "I myself know not how to account for this great change; but ever since God has given me these riches, the devil seems to have taken away my heart."

A REMINISCENCE OF SWITZERLAND.

Ir was a day in August, when the sun had been burning down upon us, and lighting up the grand scenery around, tinging Mount Blanc and the chain of the Jura with unusual splendour, that we sat and rested on one of the benches in a promenade densely arched with trees, and formed nearly a century ago into symmetrical arbour fashion, and had grown on so steadily, that it was now a perfect cercean walk, about a quarter of a mile long and some yards wide. The singing of birds was over, but one could scarcely fancy a bird singing or building there, so dank, and dark, and cheerless was it. All was summer without, but winter within; dead, skeleton leaves about, and slimy moss. The butterflies were outside, with their rich foreign wings, but only crawling insects in that long, lonesome walk. The very remembrance of it is sickening; and what marvel? An infidel had made it, and delighted in it-the infidel Voltaire; it was his private retreat, the sanctum sanctorum of his unhallowed days. Here it was he walked each day for hours, dictating to his secretary; thinking his thoughts of evil, as the great powers of his mind burnt against God, and His Christ, and His cause, while his transcendent genius built its Babel for the devil and his angels. Who can tell the evil concocted in that spot? It was Satan's triumph, as Voltaire walked up and down his melancholy avenue, and thought and wrote, and wrote and thought; then gave to the world its own, which it will ever love.

We walked to the chateau, where only one or two of the original rooms remain. Over the bedstead of the infidel poet was the likeness of Catharine the Second of Russia, her own present to him; and how revolting was the vase of earthenware which had once contained his heart (since removed to Paris); and which he had left to the people of France in token of his devotion to them. His body lay outside the chapel, and near to the church, which, strange to say, he had erected, we may add, to an unknown God. He was not permitted to be buried within it; even the priests forbad that, after he

had duped them and driven them from his presence. It is not more than a dozen years ago that his old gardener died, who would relate anecdotes of him, how he would drive into Geneva in his glass coach; or be met in his private walks by the little boys of Ferney, who would run away in all directions at the sight of him.

We returned once more to the grounds, and instinctively found ourselves again in that dreary, desolate avenue. A thought of Cowper came into the mind, in his quiet recess at Olney and Weston-the worshipper in spirit and in truth, who could truly say, what one said vainly, I am writing for eternity. How different were his mus ings, while he sang

"The calm retreat, the silent shade,

With prayer and praise agree;
And seem by thy sweet bounty made,
For those who follow thee."

Voltaire's works fanned the flames of the French Revolution, sowing the seeds of infidelity around. Cowper was the first of our English poets who struck the chords of the Christian harp, and gave a zest for solidity and truth in the midst of that light and lifeless day. Voltaire was caressed by emperors and kings; and he had his fill of what he lived for, human praise. Cowper was allowed to languish in poverty and affliction until the last six years of his sorrowful life; and when the grant of the king's pension arrived, it came too late to gratify him. Never till he was gone was he valued.

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Where are they now, those two great men? One great for God, the other great for Satan. Why, Cowper is singing, as he said he should sing, in a nobler sweeter strain, the power of salvation. Voltaire Over the death-bed of Cowper a cloud heavy and mysterious was permitted to brood, the purposes of which were ripening then, but in the day of eternity only will they be unfolded. He died under that cloud, but it was observed by an eye-witness at his dying pillow, that the expression of his countenance after death was that of calmness

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