December 9

"Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness." Judges xlv. 14.

THE sentiment contained in these words may also be applied to

THE AFFLICTIONS OF GOD'S PEOPLE. In the immense machinery of Providence, notwithstanding the complicated movement of all the parts, each wheel is revolving in its proper place, for the accomplishment of his purposes, and the display of his glory. We are prone to murmur at God's ways; but the sense of present affliction should not drown the remembrance of past mercies. Words flow apace when we complain; our minds, our mouths, and prayers, are full of our trials. We inscribe his mercies on the sand, and the first wave of trouble washes all away. Are not Christians fed by their afflictions? "Out of the eater comes forth meat;" their graces are fed; their faith, hope, love, and repentance. Happy is it when the death of our comforts proves the resurrection of our graces. Does it not purify? "He shall sit as a refiner to purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver." Does it not improve their graces? "That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be

32 found unto praise, and honor, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ." Does it not strengthen? "And he shall pass through the sea with affliction, and I will strengthen them in the Lord." Is it not an evidence of sonship? For "whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." Does it not mecten us for glory? "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." As the mighty rushing wave — canopied with the mild azure sky — decorates and beautifies the ocean, so do afflictions grace and adorn the Christian; his bosom may be racked with tempestuous trials, while his soul is enjoying the mild atmosphere of heavenly joys. Out of the bitter waters of affliction, God extracts the sweet streams of consolation; but there must be time for this:

"His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower."

The sentiment of the text may be also applied to

THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. Death is part of the curse, and one of the baneful effects of sin; but God turns this curse into a blessing. Go to the bed-side of the man of God, and witness his last moments; nature is sinking apace, his tongue falters, his cheek is pale, his sight dim, and the lamp of life is quivering and ready to expire; but peace is reigning in his conscience, and composure rests on his brow. "Can this be death?" the dying saint exclaims: "I see beyond the limits of the grave, the last enemy is destroyed, 'Surely the bitterness of death is past.'"

"How sweet the hour of closing day, When all is peaceful and serene, And when the sun, with cloudless ray, Sheds mellow lustre o'er the scene!

Such is the Christian's parting hour; So peacefully he sinks to rest; When faith, endued from heaven with power, Sustains and cheers his languid breast."