house of the Lord." Can those truly appreciate such privileges who have never been deprived of them? Not, I think, as they would were they once deprived of them. I have rejoiced to know there are those who have these blessings, if I have not; and sometimes sweet contentment with my lot has been given. When that is the case, in whatsoever state we are, we are content. I have been more lengthy than I intended. But bear with me. This is my first letter to England, and will probably be the last. I have always sent for the "Gospel Standard" through another. This is not for publication.* Yours in the path of tribulation, Cleveland, Ohio, U.S., Jan. 24th, 1879. L. H. To the Editor of the "Gospel Standard." Dear Friend,-Fourteen years ago, soon after I first received a hope in the dear Saviour, I was given liberty of soul to use these words of the psalmist as my own: "I am a companion of all them that fear thee, and of them that keep thy precepts." And also these words: "They that fear thee will be glad when they see me, because I have hoped in thy word." Since that day, the sweetness and comfort of which I can never forget, I have had many dark seasons, during which I could not feel the assurance thus expressed that I had the love and fellowship of the people of God, nor that confidence in seeking their society; but felt rather to cry, with Job, "I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls." Yet when the light and comfort return, I find, always to my surprise, that the precious words of the psalmist, which were given me then, are still mine. As my hope remains the same in every particular as on the day when I first received it, so nothing that the Lord has given me in connection with it has been taken away, nor changed in any particular, except in the measure of experience and knowledge. For the past ten years and more I have read the "Gospel Standard," and have felt for the most of the time that I was a companion of those whose experience and doctrine have been presented in its pages. It is something more to be a companion than to be either brother or friend; for one who bears to us either of those dear names may be separated far from us for days or even years. But a companion is one who walks by our side. I can never express the joy of my heart when I could say of Abraham, and Jacob, and David, and all whose spiritual journeys are mapped out in the Bible, I am their companion. Their experience is mine. * We hardly know whether we ought to apologize to our correspondent for publishing her letter or not. If we have transgressed, she must forgive Editors are dangerous persons to write such letters to. We are almost sure to give our readers the benefit of reading what we ourselves approve. us. What unspeakable joy and comfort I then felt in reading the Scriptures! The word was sweeter than honey to my taste; more precious than thousands of gold and silver. It was the joy and rejoicing of my soul. For I was walking by the side of those whose spiritual journeys were described in the inspired words I read; or at least I was their delighted companion in so much of their travel as I had experienced. I walked with Abraham from his native land to the land of promise; but I did not then know of the famine that sent him down to Egypt, and could not return with him, as I have since, from Egypt "into the south," nor partake of that joy with which he came "even to Bethel, to the place where his tent had been at the beginning, between Bethel and Hai; unto the place of the altar which he had made there at the first," that he might again call upon the Name of the Lord. I could walk with the saints in the pleasant fields of experience, in sweet paths of peace, lying down with them in green pastures, and being sweetly led in their company by the still waters. But sin, trouble, bitter affliction, I only then knew as belonging to the past, the merciful deliverance from which filled my glad heart with thanksgiving and praise. I have since been with the same dear saints of old in some awful journeys through deep, dark, desolate, terrible places that I then knew nothing about, and whose description therefore I could not then appreciate. But when I have cried unto the Lord, with David, "out of the depths;" with Jonah, from the "bottom of the mountains,"" out of the belly of hell;" with Jeremiah, from within the walls of hewn stone, heavily chained; with Job, from the bitterness of desolation, corruption, and self-abhorrence; then I have travelled with them on that sweet return journey to the light of the dear Saviour's manifested presence and favour. And O! what humility, what broken-heartedness, what tender thankfulness, what grateful, joyful wonder at the enduring mercy of our God, attend us in that journey back! Only as we know by a terribly painful and killing experience the depths of the vileness of our hearts, can we know the manner of love, the riches of grace, and the depths of mercy that have been bestowed upon us by a just and holy God, that we should be called his children. When I have met those who manifested that they have passed from death unto life, and that they have been exercised by chastisements and afflictions, I have felt that I was their companion, and have experienced a love for them to which no natural affection can compare. I have been glad to see them, and in my seasons of spiritual assurance I have known that they would be glad when they saw me,-an assurance which does not belong to my natural disposition. I have had the same experiences with reference to those whom I never saw in the flesh, but whose travels in the land of spiritual Canaan I have read in the pages of periodicals, such as the "Gospel Standard," the "Signs of the Times" (which has been for forty-six years a kind of family paper to the Old School Baptists in this country), "Zion's Landmark," and the like. I am well aware that in all of this I am alluding to an experience which is common to poor sinners in whose hearts the love of God has been shed abroad by the Holy Ghost, in whatever part of the world they may dwell. For all the children of God are one family, more closely united than any earthly family can possibly be, being born of one Spirit, and exactly alike in their spiritual features and disposition. They are the only family of brethren who can dwell together in unity, for their fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. Their dwelling together is compared to the precious ointment that was poured upon Aaron's head; which represents the Spirit, by which our great High Priest was anointed, through whom life for evermore was commanded upon the mountains of Zion, the church of the living God. This precious anointing goes down to the skirts of his priestly garments, enveloping the whole body, teaching every saint of all things; and is copious and refreshing as the dew of Hermon. I have desired from time to time to address some expressions of fellowship to the dear spiritual friends who write for, and who read the "Gospel Standard;" and have done so occasionally for the past nine years, with the desire and prayer that the few words of mine which should be presented among the good things in your pages might be blessed to the spiritual comfort of some of that dear family, and manifest in some degree the unity in which it is their comfort to dwell. Your Address in the January number, which we have just read, brings you with your responsible duties and anxieties as editor near to us. May you and your readers realize from month to month that the God of all grace prepares you for the work, and sustains you in it. We also are brought to see clearly in that Address the gift for edification and comfort to the church through writing, as well as the gift which is to be exercised only in the public assemblies of the saints. I felt in my own soul the power of that gift to stir up the pure mind by way of remembrance; to encourage the Christian in self-denial; in mortifying the deeds of the body; in putting off the old man as a leader, and in putting on the new man; in putting away wrath, malice, covetousness, and all evil, and in putting on, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering. And in the giving of exhortations and applying reproofs, there is necessarily a setting forth the way of salvation, and a drawing the line between merely natural emotions and spiritual exercises, which is very comforting and strengthening to the poor tried soul whose only desire is to be right before God, and to enjoy tokens of his favour in a good conscience. Well do I remember the reading of the last Address of Mr. Philpot, published in January, 1869. It cut sharply; it burned as a clear blaze; but it left unhurt all that is true spiritual work. It was very powerful and comforting. What tender regard for the spiritual health and welfare of the Lord's people was manifest in it! Many a precious, well-remembered journey have I taken with that servant of our dear Lord, as well as with the present editor. And when, with the exhortation, the reproof, and the describing of the Holy Spirit's work upon the soul, and its effects upon the life, the writer is enabled to bring forth to the view of tried and weary souls the dear Jesus whom they have known and loved above all else, in all his glorious beauty, in his delivering power, in his faithful, never-failing love, in his tender mercy which endures for ever, O what sweet, restful, heavenly joy and consolation are experienced! Many an afflicted one of the dear family scattered abroad will read "A Fragment of Last Year's Experience" with tender sympathy, and with fellowship, not only in the great afflictions and sufferings of the dear friend who wrote it, but also in the sweet relief and heavenly comfort which were experienced through the manifestation of the precious Saviour. O! what can compare with such an hour as that there described, when the darkest and bitterest night of earthly sorrow has led the poor soul so unexpectedly to the sweet sunrise of a spiritual light and joy beyond any former experience; when the sobs of suffering from the grief-laden heart are changed suddenly to sweet sobs of prayer and thankfulness, and songs of praise to the loving, glorious Jesus who has appeared for our help? What an awful thing is suffering when we are left alone with it! But when the Lord is pleased to exercise us spiritually thereby, and to bring us through its darkness to the lovely morning beyond, making our affliction a measure of his grace, and power, and love, then we can thank him even for the heaviest weight of sorrow. May the Lord bless you and all his dear servants there in your labour of love, and abundantly manifest his tender care for the poor of the flock. This is my prayer for Jesus' sake. Your brother, I trust, though unworthy, and fellow-labourer in the gospel, SILAS H. DURAND. Herrick, Bradford County, Pennsylvania, Jan. 23rd, 1879. [This truly excellent letter of friend Durand will, we are sure, commend itself to our spiritual readers. He is the author of an able and interesting little book, "The Trial of Job." This was reviewed some years back in our periodical. Being then entirely ignorant of the author, we dwelt, so we have feared since, too much upon what we thought blemishes in that work, such as a degree of undue spiritualization. But this letter plainly shows that our brother could write of Job's trial from a feeling heart; and what are spots in a sun? What are incidental blemishes in the work of a companion of those who fear God in the path of tribulation? We thank our friend for his letter and good wishes; which we sincerely reciprocate.] A PRAYERLESS spirit is not the spirit of Christ.-Hart. THE GOOD SHEPHERD. WITH tender heart and gentle hand, Our Shepherd leads to Canaan's land Of him they love to sing each day; A word from Jesus fires the heart, He knows his sheep, and tells their names, The bleating ewes and tender lambs And Jesus' sheep their Shepherd know, They will not after strangers go, BERRIDGE (slightly altered). We have inserted this sweet hymn of Berridge's with the hope that it may have the same indescribable sweetness to the hearts of some of our spiritual readers which it has had just lately to our own. But how sovereign is the Lord in these things! We may read or hear, or even sing a hymn many times, and find no especial sweetness in it. There is no peculiar beauty, so it seems, that we should admire it. But when the Lord accompanies it with his own sweet unction and voice of power, O how different! We never noticed this hymn particularly until we heard it given out by our friend, R. T. Hack-whose excellent letter we lately inserted-in the little chapel at Loughborough. It struck us at the time as having a peculiar sweetness and tenderness about it. And since that day, time after time, there has been an especial sweetness in it to our heart. O how we could feel the truth of the words: And again: "Of him they love to sing each day; Of him they love to learn; O how their bosoms burn!" "A word from Jesus fires the heart." Yes, this is true. Even whilst we write, we hope we feel something of that glow of the fire of the sanctuary which warms the heart and cheers the soul; is so gentle that it destroys not anything but sin; but so powerful that it makes even such a heart as mine in love with God, and burn with the foretastes of heaven. We would not write a word beyond the truth. We would not speak of feelings which we do not possess, or vainly exaggerate what we do. But we do hope these are words of truth and soberness, of calmness, sweetness, joy, and delight |