June 1

safe, but tranquil; not only holy, but joyful; not only walking in the fear of the Lord, but in the comforts of the Holy Ghost; not only possessing real, but "strong consolation."

We Thirdly perceive, What a foundation is laid for the effectual solace of the subjects of divine grace. What more could God have done than he has done to meet their infirmities, and disperse all their discouragements?—We have not only his word but his oath. Surely he has not only given them "a good hope through grace," but provided amply for "the full assurance of hope unto the end." Surely confidence becomes them as well as self-abasement. Surely they ought to attain a certainty of mind, and to be filled with all joy and peace in believing. And why are they not decided? Why do they yet walk mournfully before the Lord?

"Whence then should doubts and fears arise? Why trickling sorrows drown our eyes? Slowly, alas! our mind receives The comforts that our Maker gives."

Lastly, we learn the perverseness and vileness of unbelief. There is nothing of which men are more tenacious than their reputation for truth. The least imputation thrown upon their veracity, rouses them to demand satisfaction for the unpardonable offence—though it has only regarded their mere word, and not the added solemnity and sanction of an oath. What has God, who is conscious that he is faithfulness itself,—what has he to bear with from us! Unbelief not only contradicts him; not only gives him the lie, but accuses him of perjury—"I no more depend upon thy oath than upon thy word"—And yet the thunder stays!

What do we in our retirement? To how little purpose do we humble ourselves, before God, unless we principally grieve over our slowness of heart to believe? Every thing else will be hacking at the boughs with a feather—We must "lay the axe to the root of the tree"—an "evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God." "Lord, I believe—help thou mine unbelief."

JUNE.

JUNE 1.—"Be thou my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort." Psalms 71:3.

On what particular occasion this psalm was composed, it would not be easy to determine. Neither is it necessary; or perhaps even desirable. It is sufficient to see that David was in much affliction, but well knew that God was his refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore to him he turns, with this pathetic language; "Be thou my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort."

It is well to take advantage of our present feelings and circumstances to aid us in our communion with God. Many have supposed that David was now suffering from the rebellion of his son Absalom. If there be truth in the notion, it is not difficult to imagine the scene. Behold him gray-headed; the fire of youth that had heroically encountered the lion, and the bear, and the Philistine, damped by the chillness of age; his chief counsellor betraying him; the hearts of the people stolen from him; his army inadequate to his

defence; himself forced from his palace; fleeing from place to place, an exile in his own country; and full of uncertainty as to the issue—at such a time how natural, and suitable, and satisfying must it have, been to realize God as his hiding-place, resting-place, dwelling-place—the strength and the home of his heart!

What so pitiable as a homeless wretch? A Christian can never be in this condition. There is nothing for which we should be more thankful than domestic peace and comfort: and there are some whose abode abounds with every attraction and delight. But how different is the state of others. They have been stripped of "lover and friend:" those with whom they "took sweet counsel together and walked to the house of God in company, are no more:" their means of hospitality and enjoyment are reduced to straits and privation; or they feel some heart's bitterness, known only to themselves, and which they are not at liberty to divulge—Thus "thorns are in their tabernacle," and they are ready to cry, "O that I had wings like a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest." But you need not flee from your condition; rest may be found in it—in the bosom of your God and Saviour. And the less happiness you have in the creature, the more you should repair to his all-sufficiency. Your distresses are designed to urge you to him; and if they have this effect, it will be good for you that you have been afflicted. Thus fine weather leads us abroad, and we sometimes take long walks: but clouds and storms hasten us homeward.

David would find and enjoy God, not only as his habitation, but as his "strong" habitation—such an habitation as would not fall by decay, nor be thrown down by violence, nor be entered by any enemy; in which the inhabitant would not only be free from danger, but feel himself secure. But every earthly strong-hold, however befriended by nature, or indebted to art, is only a shadow of the safety the believer finds in the perfections and covenant-engagements of God. No force, no stratagem of men or devils can prevail to destroy or injure him who has made the Lord his trust. He is kept by the power of God, through faith, unto salvation: and when he can realize it by faith, his soul dwells at ease; and he is in quiet from the fear of evil.

He would also make use of him under the character of his strong habitation—"Whereunto I may continually resort." Would he then want to repair to him always? Our necessities, our work, our danger, require it constantly. We are commanded to pray without ceasing. And if while we acknowledge and feel the obligation, we are renewed in the spirit of our mind, we shall not lament it. Loving him as well as depending upon him, we shall find it good to draw near to God, and delight ourselves in the Almighty. And we shall never find him, when we want him, inaccessible. There is a way to our strong habitation, and we know the way. There is a door, and we have the key. No sentinel keeps us back: the dwelling is our own; and who dares to forbid us all its accommodations and contents?

Kings, however disposed, cannot be always approachable. Owing to the multitude of their claims, and the limitation of their powers, and the keeping up a sense of their dignity, they are only accessible at certain times, and with stately formalities. But the King of kings allows us to come boldly to the Throne of grace; and enjoins