THE GOSPEL MAGAZINE. "COMFORT YE, COMFORT YE MY PEOPLE, SAITH YOUR GOD." JESUS CHRIST, THE SAME YESTERDAY, AND TO-DAY, AND FOR EVER." "WHOM TO KNOW IS LIFE ETERNAL." No. 85, NEW SERIES.} JANUARY, 1864. No. 1,177, OLD SERIES. 1864. OUR DESIRE! "Let us fall now into the hand of the Lord; for His mercies are great," 2 SAM. xxiv. 14. BRETHREN BELOVED,-Recollecting what befell ourselves during the year just now brought to a close, and feeling our utter ignorance of what a day or an hour may bring forth, the above portion is most congenial to the spirit. Called away as one of our dear family circle has been since the 1st of January, 1863, and little suspecting such an occurrence when that beloved one formed one of our midnight congregation*—the last service she ever attended-the last time, indeed, she ever stepped over the threshold of this our habitation, we cannot but enter upon the present year with peculiar feelings--yea, feelings intermingled with much fear and trembling. We dare not say we have no fears. Yea, we are wont oftentimes to say, we have never been privileged to reach that favoured condition of which the Apostle speaks, "Perfect love casteth out fear: fear hath torment; he that feareth is not made perfect in love." Hence, having fear-and the Lord alone knows how much and how manifold-we are necessarily "not made perfect in love." we If you ask, dear reader, “Are you fearful about the ultimate issue? answer, No; nor do we doubt that at the end we shall say as now, "He hath done ALL things well." Not judging by sight or sense, but simply in a way of childlike confidence and trust, considering who our God is-what He is what He has done—and what He has covenanted to do,—we verily believe we shall as much admire Him and adore Him for what is in the future as has been in the past. We believe we shall thank Him then, as we are compelled to thank Him now, for His preventing mercies, as well as for His preserving and providing mercies. We shall thank Him in time to come that He has not permitted us to have our own way in regard to our fleshly choice, even as we have again and again done so with respect to time past. This we steadfastly believe; but, beloved, our exercise and our fear and our misgiving arise from the contemplation in the abstract of what it may please our God, in this, that, or the other respect, to put upon us. Our concern is "about * We invariably have a service at the close of the year, commencing at 11 p.m., on the night of the 31st of December, and ending at a quarter past 12 a.m., on the morning of the new year. On the last, as well as on previous occasions, the church was full, and the congregation seemed becomingly impressed with the solemnity of the service. B the moveables," as dear TRIGGS used to term them. We are quite aware of the seeming absurdity of it, whilst one is privileged to be at a point about a covenant interest in covenant verities. We can easily conceive how some poor trembling reader will exclaim, “Why, if I had made my calling and election sure,' as you have; if I could say, 'I know whom I have believed,' as you can, 'The Lord is mine, and I am His,'—why, these little trivial things would have no weight whatever with me. I should count them light as air; they would not weigh the weight of a feather." Ah, poor soul, you may think so. We know one that used to say the same. But permit us to remind you, that whatever our God intends to be a trouble or a trial, shall be so. Trial or affliction does not become such in point of weight or magnitude, but only as it is ordained and regulated by infinite wisdom and boundless love. Hence a dear servant of God-we refer to the late ALGAR Lock-used to say, "If God intends that a grasshopper should be my burden, that grasshopper will be beyond my control." Not unfrequently, the very minuteness of the trial constitutes its magnitude. Its smallness and seeming absurdity would prevent the subject of it from naming it to others, lest thereby he should expose himself to ridicule. Hence he is compelled to bear his burden alone, and is deprived of the sweets of human sympathy. The Lord's object is simply this -to keep His people in a perpetual state of dependance upon Himself. It matters not where they are, nor what they are-be there position high or lownumber they with rich or poor; what God intends to be a cross, shall be a cross; that which He designed for a burden, shall be a burden: be it headache or heartache-a thorn or a threat; be it what it may, or come through whatever channel it does it is of divine appointment, and can alone be brought under divine contrcl. Viewing the matter in this light, beloved, the language of our text is most agreeable to the spirit: "Let us fall now into the hand of the Lord, for His mercies are great." Yes, this is in very deed the simple utterance of the heart. This is the uppermost thought with us, whilst stepping over the threshold of another year, with all its unseen details. This is our watchword-this our hope -here, and here alone, is our stronghold. We have not the veriest particle of confidence in self or the creature. Perhaps we never felt more forcibly the truth of God's word, "He that trusteth his own heart is a fool;' ""Cursed is the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm;" "The most upright is sharper than a thorn hedge." Oh, in how many thousand ways has one been taught that most difficult lesson of "ceasing from man, whose breath is in his nostrils." Moreover, beloved, just in proportion as we are enabled to say, "Let us fall into the hand of the Lord, for His mercies are great," and to adopt it as our own, in that very proportion are we diverted from ourselves, and all passing or prospective circumstances, and can testify, "The Lord is my portion, saith my soul, therefore will I hope in Him;" "Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident" (Psalm xxvii. 3). Again, "He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee: so that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me" (Heb. xiii. 5, 6). Reader, here, we repeat, is our stronghold: not in self-not in past experience even-but in the covenant word of a covenant God. And how blessed it is to come before Him with a "Thou saidst, I will surely do thee good,”-a "Remember the word unto Thy servant upon which Thou hast caused me to hope," -a "Do as Thou hast said." Oh, how unspeakably blessed it is when by a simple, precious faith we are enabled to hold our God to His word. Reader, do you know what this is? Have you had a rich experience of the same? If so, then you know what it is to sing with the poet "Makes sov'reign mercy dear to me, Beloved, the circumstances connected with the words of our text are very important. David, we are told, was moved to number Israel and Judah. We have often wondered what inclined him to do so; whether it was pride or unbelief. In the Nebuchadnezzar spirit, "Is not this great Babylon that I have built?" the king of Israel might have desired to know the extent of his army; or, apprehensive of other wars, he might, in a spirit of unbelief, have wanted to calculate upon his strength to engage therein: in either case, it would have been indulging in a carnal-and therefore a sinful-spirit. David never had won a battle upon any such principles, nor does any child of God gain the victory upon any similar grounds. In every conflict in which the Psalmist, or any of God's people, engage, is most clearly to be traced that all-important truth, "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." "The Lord delighteth not in the strength of the horse; He taketh not pleasure in the legs of a man." "The lame take the prey; " and all this is to hide pride from man, and that glory may be given to whom alone the glory is due. Joab, the captain of the host, remonstrated with David, and sought to show him the impropriety of the course he proposed to pursue; but his remonstrance was of no avail. This is another proof of the Lord's great condescension in raising up instruments here and there as checks and hindrances to us, when tempted to pursue a self-willed or rebellious course. Who of us cannot retrace such in our own experience? Who of us that knows anything of divine teaching and training, but can look back, and clearly trace, in regard to this or that rebellious step, how conscience checked, and how this obstacle and that barrier was thrown up in our way, gently to restrain and to admonish? But ah, we would not sec, or, seeing, would not give heed; so bent were we upon the gratification of our own self-will. Reader, is it not so? Must you not plead guilty? At the same time, can you but admire the patience and the forbearance and the long-suffering of your God in thus bearing with your manners in the wilderness? Do not such reviews endear the lines of the poet "And are we wretches yet alive, And do we yet rebel? 'Tis boundless, 'tis amazing love, There is another striking feature with regard to David in this matter of the numbering of the people. Though Joab and the captains of the host were engaged upwards of nine months in this service, yet it would seem that there was no relenting, nor any sense of his sin, upon the part of David, until the work was completed; and not even then, until Gad, David's seer, came unto him with a message from the Lord. How does this prove the dreadfully-hardening nature of sin; and this the more so in the Psalmist, because in the matter of Uriah he had continued a similar interval in a state of hardness and impenitency. How does this, at the same time, prove that sin will not of itself convince of sin, much less impart sorrow on account of it. This is the work of God the Holy Ghost alone, whose special prerogative it is to convince of sin, and to give true godly sorrow and repentance for having sinned. But when the Holy Ghost does convince of sin, there is no resisting that con the moveables," as dear TRIGGS used to term them. We are quite aware of the seeming absurdity of it, whilst one is privileged to be at a point about a covenant interest in covenant verities. We can easily conceive how some poor trembling reader will exclaim, "Why, if I had made my calling and election sure,' as you have; if I could say, 'I know whom I have believed,' as you can, The Lord is mine, and I am His,'—why, these little trivial things would have no weight whatever with me. I should count them light as air; they would not weigh the weight of a feather." Ah, poor soul, you may think so. We know one that used to say the same. But permit us to remind you, that whatever our God intends to be a trouble or a trial, shall be so. Trial or affliction does not become such in point of weight or magnitude, but only as it is ordained and regulated by infinite wisdom and boundless love. Hence a dear servant of God-we refer to the late ALGAR Lock-used to say, "If God intends that a grasshopper should be my burden, that grasshopper will be beyond my control." Not unfrequently, the very minuleness of the trial constitutes its magnitude. Its smallness and seeming absurdity would prevent the subject of it from naming it to others, lest thereby he should expose himself to ridicule. Hence he is compelled to bear his burden alone, and is deprived of the sweets of human sympathy. The Lord's object is simply this -to keep His people in a perpetual state of dependance upon Himself. It matters not where they are, nor what they are-be there position high or low— number they with rich or poor; what God intends to be a cross, shall be a cross; that which He designed for a burden, shall be a burden: be it headache or heartache-a thorn or a threat; be it what it may, or come through whatever channel it does—it is of divine appointment, and can alone be brought under divine contrel. Viewing the matter in this light, beloved, the language of our text is most agreeable to the spirit: "Let us fall now into the hand of the Lord, for His mercies are great." Yes, this is in very deed the simple utterance of the heart. This is the uppermost thought with us, whilst stepping over the threshold of another year, with all its unseen details. This is our watchword-this our hope -here, and here alone, is our stronghold. We have not the veriest particle of confidence in self or the creature. Perhaps we never felt more forcibly the truth of God's word, "He that trusteth his own heart is a fool; ""Cursed is the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm; "The most upright is sharper than a thorn hedge." Oh, in how many thousand ways has one been taught that most difficult lesson of "ceasing from man, whose breath is in his nostrils." وو Moreover, beloved, just in proportion as we are enabled to say, "Let us fall into the hand of the Lord, for His mercies are great," and to adopt it as our own, in that very proportion are we diverted from ourselves, and all passing or prospective circumstances, and can testify, "The Lord is my portion, saith my soul, therefore will I hope in Him;" "Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident" (Psalm xxvii. 3). Again, "He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee: so that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me" (Heb. xiii. 5, 6). Reader, here, we repeat, is our stronghold: not in self-not in past experience even-but in the covenant word of a covenant God. And how blessed it is to come before Him with a "Thou saidst, I will surely do thee good,”—a "Remember the word unto Thy servant upon which Thou hast caused me to hope," Do as Thou hast said." Oh, how unspeakably blessed it is when by a simple, precious faith we are enabled to hold our God to His word. -a Reader, do you know what this is? Have you had a rich experience of the same? If so, then you know what it is to sing with the poet— "Makes sov'reign mercy dear to me, Beloved, the circumstances connected with the words of our text are very important. David, we are told, was moved to number Israel and Judah. We have often wondered what inclined him to do so; whether it was pride or unbelief. In the Nebuchadnezzar spirit, "Is not this great Babylon that I have built?" the king of Israel might have desired to know the extent of his army; or, apprehensive of other wars, he might, in a spirit of unbelief, have wanted to calculate upon his strength to engage therein: in either case, it would have been indulging in a carnal-and therefore a sinful--spirit. David never had won a battle upon any such principles, nor does any child of God gain the victory upon any similar grounds. In every conflict in which the Psalmist, or any of God's people, engage, is most clearly to be traced that all-important truth, "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." "The Lord delighteth not in the strength of the horse; He taketh not pleasure in the legs of a man.' "The lame take the prey; " and all this is to hide pride from man, and that glory may be given to whom alone the glory is due. Joab, the captain of the host, remonstrated with David, and sought to show him the impropriety of the course he proposed to pursue; but his remonstrance was of no avail. This is another proof of the Lord's great condescension in raising up instruments here and there as checks and hindrances to us, when tempted to pursue a self-willed or rebellious course. Who of us cannot retrace such in our own experience? Who of us that knows anything of divine teaching and training, but can look back, and clearly trace, in regard to this or that rebellious step, how conscience checked, and how this obstacle and that barrier was thrown up in our way, gently to restrain and to admonish? But ah, we would not sec, or, seeing, would not give heed; so bent were we upon the gratification of our own self-will. Reader, is it not so? Must you not plead guilty? At the same time, can you but admire the patience and the forbearance and the long-suffering of your God in thus bearing with your manners in the wilderness? Do not such reviews endear the lines of the poet "And are we wretches yet alive, And do we yet rebel? 'Tis boundless, 'tis amazing love, There is another striking feature with regard to David in this matter of the numbering of the people. Though Joab and the captains of the host were engaged upwards of nine months in this service, yet it would seem that there was no relenting, nor any sense of his sin, upon the part of David, until the work was completed; and not even then, until Gad, David's seer, came unto him with a message from the Lord. How does this prove the dreadfully-hardening nature of sin; and this the more so in the Psalmist, because in the matter of Uriah he had continued a similar interval in a state of hardness and impenitency. How does this, at the same time, prove that sin will not of itself convince of sin, much less impart sorrow on account of it. This is the work of God the Holy Ghost alone, whose special prerogative it is to convince of sin, and to give true godly sorrow and repentance for having sinned. But when the Holy Ghost does convince of sin, there is no resisting that con |