pardon." But the enemy of God loves to keep his palace and his goods in peace he therefore screens from their view every thing that will have a tendency to awaken suspicion or alarm, and induces them to think only of circumstances that either flatter or encourage them.

Now I will venture to say, that the very reverse of this is the disposition of all the subjects of divine grace: they know that self-deception is tremendous, they know that self-deception is probable; they know that self-deception is common; and therefore they are afraid of self-deception. And they often carry their solicitude beyond the point of duty, and in reading and hearing they will apply to themselves what was intended only for others; for, as an old divine says, "There is no beating the dogs out without making the children cry:" and therefore they still refuse to be comforted. They think too little of the favourable side of the question, and dwell too little on the kindness and tenderness of God: though they are concerned so to walk as to please him, they often walk mournfully before the Lord: they are anxious as to how matters will go with them at last, and sometimes despair of ever seeing the goodness of God in the land of the living. Not that this is always the case: no; there are moments when their feelings are in unison with those of the apostle when he said, "In all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Then, again, the sky which was clear is overcast with clouds: "Alas!" (he sighs) "will the Lord cast me off for ever; will he in anger shut up his tender mercies?" Yes; "Zion said," "The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me."

Let us try to trace up this complaint to its source, and then see what wretchedness the conclusion must produce in the minds of all the godly.

There is a philosophical notion prevailing, and which is of a semi-infidel complexion, which supposes that the providence of God is general, and not particular: it supposes that the Deity is engaged in managing concerns of whole worlds and systems at large, regardless of individualities. The notion has been designed, perhaps, in one view, as if these individualities would be beneath his regard, not considering that the care of the Creator and the cares of government must always be co-equal and co-extensive, and that it can never be beneath God to provide for what it was not beneath God to produce. And also perhaps, to relieve him forsooth; as if any thing was too hard for the Lord. Among men we well know, that, in a thousand instances, an attention to little things must prevent attention to great things, and an attention to great things must prevent attention to little things. But it is not even so with God; he wings the angel, and guides the sparrow. Yes, he regards the whole, and therefore he must regard the parts; for the whole is always made up of the parts: and he does regard the parts, and the most minute parts too Can any thing perplex an understanding that is infinite? Can any thing fatigue a power that is Almighty? "Hast thou not heard? has thou not seen? hath it not been told thee from the beginning? there is no searching of his understanding: he giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might he increaseth strength." The mite lives by him as well as the elephant, and the glow-worm shines by him as well as the sun. He clothes

the grass of the field: a sparrow falls not to the ground without our heavenly Father: the very hairs of our head are all numbered.

But it is not a philosophical notion, but a religious despondency, that affects Christians. It is not the influence of infidelity; but it is the influence, first, of unbelief, or the weakness of faith. Faith may be real, and yet weak, and very weak too. Our Saviour said to his disciples, "Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith?" Our comfort must always be, therefore, according to our faith. "In whom," says Peter, "believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory." There is always consolation here, in God's riches of glory by Christ Jesus; but these can only be perceived and apprehended by faith. There is always fruit enough upon the tree of life, but faith is the hand by which alone we can gather it. There is water enough always in the wells of salvation, but by faith we must draw it. So true is the language of our prophet, in an earlier passage, "If ye will not believe, surely ye shall not be established."

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It arises also from ignorance. This is very distinguishable from the former. A man may believe as far as his knowledge extends; but then there may be other things beyond, of which he is ignorant: and "how can we believe what we have not heard?" as the apostle says. There are some who resemble the poor man in the Gospel under our Saviour's illuminating process; they see men as trees walking ;" and, perhaps, the roots are up in the air, and they see them move towards them: no wonder that they feel something ominous. There are persons who have a very defective acquaintance with the grounds of a sinner's acceptance in the Beloved, and of the efficacy of the Saviour's blood to cleanse from all sin, and of the perfection of his righteousness as entitling us to everlasting glory, and of the permanency of the everlasting covenant, "ordered in all things and sure," and which "places our standing more secure than 'twas before we fell."

"More happy, but not more secure,
The glorified spirits in heaven."

Now we allow that the believer's safety does not depend upon the degree of his religious knowledge; but his comfort must always be very materially influ enced by it. And this is a reason why it is "a good thing for the heart to be established with grace;" why Christians should "grow in the knowledge of their Lord and Saviour;" and why they should endeavour to obtain clear, and full, and combined views of "the truth as it is in Jesus."

It also springs, sometimes, from the suspension of divine manifestation. The sun is always in the sky, but not always visible. God hides himself from the house of Jacob; and if you are a part of the house of Jacob, you will be affected by it, as David was, when he said, "Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled." Here it may be necessary to remark, that you must not consider this suspension of divine manifestation as a mere effect of divine sovereignty; for God" does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men," much less his own children, who are infinitely dear to him. He, himself, in this prophecy, has explained the case, both negatively and positively: "The Lord's hand is not shortened that it cannot save, neither his ear heavy that it cannot hear; but your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you." It is, therefore, either as a prevention of sin, or a

correction for it: "I will go, and return to my place, till they acknowledge their offence and seek my face; in their affliction they will seek me early." Or it is a rebuke for some duty omitted, or some object idolized. You will do well, therefore, to think, if this be your experience now, of the address of Eliphaz to Job: "Are the consolations of God small with thee? is there any secret thing with thee?" Is there no worm at the root of your gourà? "O," said Joab, at Beth-maachah, "I do not wish to injure the place, but I am pursuing a traitor, and I will have his head; throw this over the wall, and I will blow the trumpet, and withdraw all the besieging forces:" and so it was. Thus, Christian, should you apply this: thus should you say :

"The dearest idol I have known,

Whate'er that idol be,

Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only thee.

"So shall my walk be close with God,
Calm and serene my frame;

So purer light shall mark the road

That leads me to the Lamb."

We may also mention conflicting with the troubles of life. These, indeed, if viewed properly, should be considered rather as proofs that God has not forsaken, and, that he has not forgotten us. Surely the husbandman has not forsaken and forgotten the tree, and doomed it to the axe of the feller of the wood, while he manures it and while he prunes it. "He that spareth the rod," says Solomon, "hateth his son; but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes." "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. What son is he, whom the heavenly Father chasteneth not?" But so it is. And therefore in afflictions, and when they are various and numerous, and some of them seem so inexplicable, then the Christian asks,

"If I am his, why am I thus?"

The fact is, that all suffering is the consequence of sin, and therefore, naturally reminds us of it: and therefore, afflictive dispensations have at first a penal aspect, and seem to indicate wrath in God, and so they induce us to pray, "Do not condemn me." God is the source of all light and all comfort; and when there is no light and comfort with us, it is not easy to persuade ourselves that God is then with us. “If he be with us," said Gideon, "why then has all this evil befallen us?" "He could, by a mere volition, ease all my complaints," says the Christian, "for he has all power in heaven and in earth; and if he were my Father and my friend, would he not?" No; this does not follow: for his love is as wise as it is real. Yet, when "the clouds return after the rain," when " deep calleth unto deep," it is no easy thing for the Christian to possess "the peace that passeth all understanding." Surely Job could not find it easy to believe that God was " pitiful," as James says concerning him, “and of tender mercy," under all the losses of his substance, and servants, and children, and friends; yet he believes it now, and he believed it after his deliverance; yea, and he believed it before, or else he never could have said, yea, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him."

We remark, only once more, the delay of God in the accomplishment of prayer. God" is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness." He always has a time of his own, and this is the best time: and he

never goes beyond this time; but then we expect him at an earlier time; and so when he does not come, or come so soon, we are surprized and confounded; and "hope deferred maketh the heart sick." He is always inclined to bless us, but then he is a God of judgment, and looks after the best season. "Blessed are all they that wait for him." "It is a good thing for a man both to hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord." We should always learn to distinguish between the acceptance of prayer, and the answer of prayer. God always immediately hears the prayer of faith, but he does not always immediately answer it: he "waits to be gracious." You remember how he exercised the Syrophenician woman, though he intended to relieve her from the beginning. But how was she previously tried! yet the trial issued in her conversion; and he said "I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel; be it unto thee, even as thou wilt."

Now we cannot afford time to enlarge here any further. This is, in common, perhaps, the source of the complaint here expressed.

But who can find language properly to describe the wretchedness, that such a conclusion as this "The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me," must ever produce in the minds of the godly? I say, the godly, because as to others, as to the ungodly, they say unto God, "Depart from us; we desire not the knowledge of thy ways: cause the holy One of Israel to cease from before us." But oh! for a Christian to apprehend the withdrawal of God from him! How, in such a case, does his soul mingle its drink with weeping! How, in such a case, is the heart's bitterness known only to himself! Distress of circumstances, worldly disappointments, bodily pains, the desertion of friends, family bereavements, all these could be borne, and borne well, if God is near, if God is with us, if God is in us. But (though when he giveth quietness, then who can make trouble?) O the thought, I am forsaken, I am forgotten!

The misery a child of God feels at such a time, from such a conclusion, may be accounted for by three things. The first is, that he loves God. He does not love him perfectly, but he loves him supremely; and we all know well enough, that love can never be reconciled to the absence of its object; distance is painful, but the thought of separation is intolerable. And a Christian can say of his God,

"I cannot live contented here,

Without some glimpses of thy face;
And heav'n without thy presence there,
Would be a dark and tiresome place."

Secondly, he entirely relies upon him. He knows and feels that he is to him all and in all. He knows and feels that his God is more necessary to him than the sun is to the earth, or the soul to the body; and that, without him, all must be darkness, dreariness, desolation, and death. And, thirdly, because he has enjoyed him already. He has tasted that the Lord is gracious, and therefore "Evermore give us this bread." He has seen the excellency of our God, and therefore he prays, "I beseech thee show me thy glory." He has had an experience of communion with God, and this stimulates his desire and makes him long for more. He is not to be ridiculed or reasoned out of his conviction here. He knows that he has had communion with God, as a man talketh with his friend-in creatures, in providences, in ordinances: and this

he prays,

it is, therefore, that makes him feel so much the fear of God's forsaking or forgetting him. Thus it was with David; "My soul thirsteth for thee; my flesh longeth for thee, in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is, to see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary”—

"My God, repeat that heavenly hour,

That vision so divine."

Well, such is this unreasonable and unrighteous complaint.

Let us now attend to the satisfactory answer: "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget; yet will I not forget thee."

Let us notice the improbability of the fear, the certainty of the assurance, and the all-sufficiency of the truth established, that is, of the perpetual regard of God to his people.

First, let us notice the improbability of the fear. This is metaphorically expressed: "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget:" it is not likely that she should, but it is possible. It is the honour of females, that they are not only the fairer, but the tenderer sex. The young of all creatures are lovely and attractive always: but let us survey the image here. Here is a child, a harmless object, a helpless object, an endeared object, and towards which any one may feel compassion and tenderness. But you will observe that the child here is the mother's own-" the son of her womb;" lately a part of herself, and endeared by the anxieties of bearing it, and the pain and peril of bringing it forth. Nor is this all; for the mother is a nursing mother. Isaiah scorned to take an image of exquisite tenderness from those wretches, who, when they have it in their power, devolve this pleasing, and (ask all the physicians) this salutary duty upon others, upon strangers and upon hirelings: no, it is a nursing mother, and the child is a “sucking child," looking up with ineffable satisfaction to his benefactor, and with his little hands stroking the cheeks of her who feeds him. This is the image; and, therefore, you must allow that it is not likely that a woman should forget her sucking child, and not have compassion on the son of her womb.

But then it is a possible case: " Yea, they may forget;" more than one of them" they may forget." There are two supposable cases here. For, first, she may be bereft of reason, or not survive, and so not be able to remember. How I pity the babe, whose mother is deprived of her reason, and who looks with a frenzied stare of indifference, or a morbid countenance, towards her own little one! How I pity a child whose mother is sick and dying, and can only cast towards him a languid look, and must leave behind her the little companion, whose going with her would almost reconcile her to the passage of death! And the other is, that she may be criminally, unnaturally led to hide herself from her own flesh. The instances, as you see by the papers, are not very rare, in which the wretched mother has destroyed the fruit of her own womb, sometimes under the pressure of want, sometimes to hide her shame, and sometimes to comply with the wishes, or even intimations of the accursed villain who has seduced her; for to such a devil in human flesh, what is the death of the child, or the death of the mother, or the death of ten mothers, if his vile lusts can