much for any of his most glorious works, as he does for his children. Although his eye seeth everything that hath beauty and excellency in it, he never fixes his gaze anywhere with that admiration and delight, which he spends upon his purchased ones. He charges his angels concerning them, and calls upon those holy beings to rejoice with him over his lost sheep. (Luke xv. 4-7.) He talked of them to himself, and even on the tree of doom he did not cease to soliloquize concerning them.

"That day acute of ignominious woe,

Was, notwithstanding, in a perfect sense,

'The day of his heart's gladness,' for the joy
That his redeem'd should be brought home at last,
(Made ready as in robes of bridal white,)
Was set before him vividly,-he look'd ;-

And for that happiness anticipate,

Endurance of all torture, all disgrace,

Seem'd light infliction to his heart of love."

(Meditations.)

Like a fond mother, Christ Jesus, our thrice-blessed Lord, sees every dawning of excellence, and every bud of goodness in us, making much of our littles, and rejoicing over the beginnings of our graces. As he is to be our endless song, so we are his perpetual prayer. When he is absent he thinks of us, and in the black darkness he has a window through which he looks upon us. When the sun sets in one part of the earth, he rises in another place beyond our visible horizon; and even so Jesus, our Sun of Righteousness, is only pouring light upon his people in a different way, when to our apprehension he seems to have set in darkness. His eye is ever upon the congregation of the righteous. "I the Lord do keep it; I will water it every moment: lest any hurt it, I will keep it night and day." (Isa. xxvii. 3.) He will not trust to his angels to do it, for it is his delight to do all with his own hands. Zion is in the centre of his heart, and he cannot forget, for every day his thoughts are set upon her. When the bride by her neglect of him hath hidden herself from his sight, he cannot be quiet until again he looks upon her. He calls her forth with the most wooing words, "O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely." (Sol. Song ii. 14.) She thinks herself unmeet to have company with such a prince, but he entices her from her lurking place, and inasmuch as she comes forth trembling, and bashfully hides her face with her veil, he bids her uncover her face and let her husband gaze npon her. She is ashamed to do so, for she is black in her own esteem, and therefore he urges that she is comely to him. Nor is he content with looking, he must feed his ears as well as his eyes, and therefore he commends her speech and intreats her to let him hear her voice. See how truly our Lord rejoiceth in us. Is not this unparalleled love! We have heard of princes who have been smitten by the beauty of a peasant's daughter, but what of that? Here is the Son of God doting upon a worm, looking with eyes of admiration upon a poor child of Adam, and listening with joy to the lispings of poor flesh and blood. Ought we not to be exceedingly charmed by such matchless condescension? And should not our hearts as much delight in him,

as he doth in us? O surprising truth! Christ Jesus rejoices over his poor, tempted, tried, and erring people.

It is not to be forgotten that sometimes the Lord Jesus tells his people his love thoughts. "He does not think it enough behind her back to tell it, but in her very presence, he says, "Thou art all fair my love.' It is true, this is not his ordinary method; he is a wise lover, that knows when to keep back the intimation of love and when to let it out; but there are times when he will make no secret of it; times when he will put it beyond all dispute in the souls of his people."* The Holy Spirit is often pleased in a most gracious manner, to witness with our spirits of the love of Jesus. He takes of the things of Christ and reveals them unto us. No voice is heard from the clouds and no vision is seen in the night, but we have a testimony more sure than either of these. If an angel should fly from heaven and inform the saint personally of the Saviour's love to him, the evidence would not be one whit more satisfactory than that which is born in the heart by the Holy Ghost. Ask those of the Lord's people who have lived the nearest to the gates of heaven, and they will tell you that they have had seasons when the love of Christ towards them has been a fact so clear and sure, that they could no more doubt it than they could question their own existence. Yes, beloved believer, you and I have had times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, and then our faith has mounted to the topmost heights of assurance. We have had confidence to lean our heads upon the bosom of our Lord, and we have had no more question about our Master's affection than John had when in that blessed posture, nay, nor so much; for the dark question, "Lord is it I that shall betray thee," has been put far from us. He has kissed us with the kisses of his love, and killed our doubts by the closeness of his embrace. His love has been sweeter than wine to our souls. We felt that we could sing, "His left hand is under my head and his right hand doth embrace me." (Sol. Song viii. 3.) Then all earthly troubles were light as the chaff of the threshing-floor, and the pleasures of the world as tasteless as the white of an egg. We would have welcomed death as the messenger who would introduce us to our Lord to whom we were in haste to be gone; for his love had stirred us to desire more of him, even his immediate and glorious presence. I have sometimes, when the Lord has assured me of his love, felt as if I could not contain more joy and delight. My eyes ran down with tears of gratitude. I fell upon my knees to bless him, but rose again in haste, feeling as if I had nothing more to ask for, but must stand up and praise him; then have I lifted my hands to heaven longing to fill my arms with him; panting to talk with him, as a man talketh with his friend, and to see him in his own person, that I might tell him how happy he had made his unworthy servant, and might fall on my face and kiss his feet in unutterable thankfulness and love. Such a banquet have I had upon one word of my beloved-" thou art mine," that I wished like Peter to build tabernacles in that mount and dwell for ever. But alas, we who are young saints, have not yet learned how to preserve such assurance. We stir up our beloved and awake him, and then he leaves our unquiet chamber,

*R. Erskine's Sermons.

and we grope after him in the night and make many a weary journey after him. If we were wiser and more careful, we might preserve the fragrance of Christ's words far longer; for they are not like the ordinary manna which soon rotted, but are comparable to that omer of it which was put in the golden pot and preserved for many generations. The sweet Lord Jesus has been known to write his love-thoughts on the hearts of his people in so clear and deep a manner, that they have for months and even years enjoyed an abiding sense of his affection. A few doubts have flitted across their minds like thin clouds before a summer's sun, but the warmth of their assurance has remained the same for many a gladsome day. Their path has been a smooth one, they have fed in the green pastures beside the still waters, for his rod and staff have comforted them, and his right hand hath led them. I am inclined to think, that there is more of this in the Church than some men would allow. We have a goodly number who dwell upon the hills, and behold the light of the sun. There are giants in these days, though the times are not such as to allow them room to display their gigantic strength; in many a humble cot, in many a crowded workshop, in many a village manse there are to be found men of the house of David, men after God's own heart, anointed with the holy oil. It is, however, a mournful truth, that whole ranks in the army of our Lord are composed of dwarfish Littlefaiths. The men of fearful mind, and desponding heart are everywhere to be seen. Why is this? Is it the Master's fault, or ours? Surely he cannot be blamed. Is it not then a matter of enquiry in our own souls. Can I not grow stronger? Must I be a mourner all my days? How can I get rid of my doubts? The answer must be: yes, you can be comforted, but only the mouth of the Lord can do it, for anything less than this will be unsatisfactory. I doubt not, that there are means, by the use of which, those who are now weak and trembling, may attain unto boldness in faith and confidence in hope; but I see not how this can be done unless the Lord Jesus Christ manifest his love to them, and tell them of their union to him. This he will do, if we seek it of him. The importunate pleader shall not lack his reward. Haste thee to him, O timid one, and tell him that nothimg will content thee, but a smile from his own face, and a word from his own lip. Speak to him, and say, "O, my Lord Jesus, I cannot rest unless I know that thou lovest me. I desire to have proof of thy love under thine own hand and seal. I cannot live upon guesses and surmises; nothing but certainty will satisfy my trembling heart. Lord, look upon me, if, indeed, thou lovest me, and though I be less than the least of all saints, say unto my soul, 'I am thy salvation."" When this prayer is heard, the castle of despair must totter, there is not one stone of it which can remain upon another, if Christ whispers forth his love. Even Despondency and Much-afraid will dance, and Ready-to-Halt leap upon his crutches.

O, for more of these Bethel visits, more frequent visitations from the God of Israel! O, how sweet to hear him say to us, as he did to Abraham, "Fear not Abram, I am thy shield, thine exceeding great reward." (Gen. xv. 1.) To be addressed as Daniel was of old, “O, man, grealy beloved," (Dan. x. 19.) is worth a thousand ages of this world's joy. What more can a creature want this side of heaven to

make him peaceful and happy than a plain avowal of love from his Lord's own lips. Let me ever hear thee speak in mercy to my soul, and O, my Lord, I ask no more while here I dwell in the land of my pilgrimage.

Brethren, let us labour to obtain a confident assurance of the Lord's delight in us, for this, as it enables him to commune with us, will be one of the readiest ways to produce a like feeling in our hearts towards him. Christ is well-pleased with us; let us approach him with holy familiarity; let us unbosom our thoughts to him, for his delight in us will secure us an audience. The child may stay away from the father, when he is conscious that he has aroused his father's displeasure, but why should we keep at a distance, when Christ Jesus is smiling upon us. No! since his smiles attract us, let us enter into his courts, and touch his golden sceptre. O, Holy Spirit, help us to live in happy fellowship with him whose soul is knit unto us.

U

"O Jesus! let eternal blessings dwell
On thy transporting name.

*

*

*

Let me be wholly thine from this blest hour.
Let thy lov'd image be for ever present;
Of thee be all my thoughts, and let my tongue
Be sanctified with the celestial theme.

Dwell on my lips, thou dearest, sweetest name!
Dwell on my lips, 'till the last parting breath!
Then let me die, and bear the charming sound
In triumph to the skies. In other strains,
In language all divine, I'll praise thee then;
While all the Godhead opens in the view
Of a Redeemer's love. Here let me gaze,
For ever gaze; the bright variety
Will endless joy and admiration yield.

Let me be wholly thine from this blest hour.
Fly from my soul all images of sense,
Leave me in silence to possess my Lord :
My life, my pleasures, flow from him alone,
My strength, my great salvation, and my hope.
Thy name is all my trust; O name divine!
Be thou engraven on my inmost soul,
And let me own thee with my latest breath,
Confess thee in the face of ev'ry horror,

That threat'ning death or envious hell can raise ;
Till all their strength subdu'd, my parting soul
Shall give a challenge to infernal rage,

And sing salvation to the Lamb for ever."

On Plymouth Brethrenism.

BY G. ROGERS.

NDER this title we remember a society to have risen many years ago which, on account of its pretentions to superior piety, and the countenance it received from a few distinguished individuals, excited much attention, both in the Church and the world. By its advocates it was hailed as the commencement of a new era in Christianity, as the dawn of a second Reformation, and as the immediate pre

cursor of millennial glory; while Christians in general looked on with mingled doubt and approbation, and wisely determined to suspend their judgment until the new movement had been tested by experience. It soon became evident that it was far more imposing in theory than in practice; and that it failed most in the very points in which it professed to be most pure. It assumed to be no sect, but to be pure Bible-Christianity, which was either the most childish fiction, or the most uncharitable presumption. It must have embraced either all Christians in the world, or a part. If it refused to be considered a sect, or section, or part, it arrogantly assumed to be the whole. It professes to have the true apostolic creed, and yet no sect, perhaps, for its size and period of duration, is more divided in its doctrinal views. It pretends to have made the Bible its own and only interpreter, and yet it appeals to the sentiments of its leaders with all the confidence that others have displayed in similar circumstances. In theory, it has no minister; in practice, it has many. In theory, it is a most united body; in reality, it is most divided. On these accounts, considering its high pretentions, and how completely they have failed, it may be affirmed, without any violation of charity, to have been weighed in the balance, and found wanting. After many years, it is scarcely more extensive than soon after its origin, and certainly is in less general repute.

In the spiritual, as well as in the natural world, causes have their own effects, or, in other words, "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap." A great mixture of truth and error has been sown in the field we are now surveying, and a plentiful crop of both has appeared; but the tares, to our thinking, are in unusual proportion to the wheat. New sects have generally branched off at some neglected point of doctrine or discipline in the Christian Church. Where the deficiency has been most felt, efforts have been made to supply it. Those efforts have been made with sincere motives, but have not, perhaps, on account of the unofficial source from whence they came, received the attention they deserve; or they may not have had a full response in the minds and hearts of fellow Christians. In either case

distinction is conferred upon the author of the change. If he be a man whose strength is not equal to his day, and whose humility does not increase with his reputation, he will be seen unduly to magnify both himself and his suggested improvement to the discomfort of his brethren, and commonly to a final separation from them. Accompanied by a few others he forms a community upon new principles, necessarily based upon the peculiarity of his own religious views. In this way, that which was good at first is carried to excess, and becomes a positive evil; less evil in itself than in the irregularities and errors with which in the hands of the ignorant and self-conceited it is accompanied.

In circumstances like these, Plymouth Brethrenism had its origin. It was a revival of the ancient sect of the Bereans, who "searched the Scriptures daily to see whether these things were so." In every age of the Church, men have been too ready to take the truths of Scripture from the lips of the preacher second-hand, instead of deriving them from the Scriptures themselves. They have been content with the stream, when they might have repaired to the fountain. They