The burdens, too, I have to bear
Alarm me with distressing fear,
And likewise foes that lie in wait,
But more especially of late.
That inward nest, an awful den!
Rising at once like armed men,
And join'd by Satan's cruel rage,
Against my helpless soul engage.
And O, what yet is worse to tell,
A victim to their rage I fell!
Ah! now I thought my day was past,
And I must sink to hell at last.
Hitchin.

But yet, like Jonah, help'd to sigh,
And loudly to the Saviour cry
I did, and O! 'twas not in vain;
He gave me Peter's look again.
And through his mercy now I sing,
Jesus my Saviour and my King, [wound,
Whose blood 's a balm that heals my
Whose truth's a bandage girds me round,
Whose name's an ointment to my head,
Whose goodness shall my table spread,
Whose hand supplies in time of need,
Yes, Jesus is the friend indeed

REMEMBERING THE WAY.

O the trouble once I found!
Jehovah's arrow made the wound
Deep in my inmost soul;
But in this dreadful deep distress
I found no peace, no hope, no rest,
Till Jesus made me whole.
This good Physician did impart
A cordial to my wounded heart,
Composed of oil and wine.

I can't forget that happy day
When first I heard my Saviour say,
"Cheer up, for I am thine!"

Hitchin.

of B. GATWARD.

"Cheer up, poor soul,” again he cries,
While floods of tears poured from my
I thought myself in heaven. [eyes,
Such consolation did abound
The like before I never found;

My sins were all forgiven.
And now I nothing more can say,
Only, that while below I stay,

May Jesus be my all.

My heart's desire and prayer is still
For grace and strength to do his will
Till he from earth shall call.
B. GATWARD.

SPIRITUAL WANTS.

Dear Saviour, wilt thou condescend
My supplication to attend?
Where can I go but unto thee,
With all my wants and misery ?
I want more liberty in prayer,
I want to find thy presence there,
I want more spiritual hope within,
I want to feel less love to sin.
I want thee as my hiding place,
I want some tokens of thy grace,
I want thy rich atoning blood
To reconcile my soul to God.
I want to feel more love to thee,
I want from bondage to be free,
Rochester, Kent.

I want to hear thy pardoning voice
To make my drooping soul rejoice.
I want to have my faith increased,
From doubts and fears to be released;
I want to know I'm in the way
That leads to everlasting day.

I want thy smiling face to see
When at thy throne I bend the knee;
I want to feel thy love divine
To melt and break this heart of mine.
Lord, all my wants thou knowest well,
For they are more than I can tell;
But all may be comprised in this,
Assurance of eternal bliss.
A POOR

HING

THE TRIED STONE.

"Therefore, saith the Lord God, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation, a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation; he that believeth shall not make haste."Isa. xxviii. 16.

The Stone which the builders rejected with scorn
Now proves to the guilty, the lost, and forlorn,
A safe place of refuge where sinners do hide,
And shelter in Jesus, though once crucified.
Those builders of old had a stone of their own,
A Babel to climb though Moses may frown;
Though justice may threaten their souls to arrest,
To work go those builders, and each does his best.

To lay a foundation on nature's quicksands,
Their building's erected by nature's weak hands;
They make their atonement, their victims provide,
They rest on their duties, and feed on their pride.
Those builders a stumbling block prove to the poor,
Who wait with tired patience at mercy's strait door,
Who see their perfection all brought to an end;
By sin they're defiled, and in vain strive to mend.
This Stone has been tried with ways most perverse,
With sins and foul crimes and all the Law's curse,
But Jesus their husband, their brother, and friend,
Proves a Stone to his people; his love has no end.
None ever can sink who build on this Stone;
Through life's dreary maze he still proves to his own
A steadfast foundation, chief corner, and friend;
A place for their shelter his arm he will lend.
Poor sinners, when hunted by sin, death, and hell,
Look up to your Jesus who conquer'd and fell;
Your work of salvation by him is complete;
'Then bow down before him, lie low at his feet.
Come, sensible sinners, with crimes of deep hue,
Your Saviour now reigns in glory for you;
Bright mansions and thrones are provided above
Which you shall inherit, and feast on his love.
Trowbridge, July 12, 1842.

ONCE AN ATHEIST.

A NEW YEAR'S GIFT TO THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST.

Deep in the ditch of death, but loath to know
The thousandth part of wickedness and woe;

A willing drudge to sin, by Satan hired,

My flesh denied the truth that heaven inspired.

Fetter'd and bound by sin's infernal chain,

In league with death, I sought that monarch's reign;
Drank down the poison, firmly held the woe,
And madly ran to meet the dreadful blow.
Till God in mercy ope'd my death-closed eyes
Upon the brink of hell, O sad surprise!
Destruction greatly shook my guilty soul,
Nor could my cries the waves of wrath control.
Thus sunk beneath conviction's fierce array,
God's arrows, winged from Sinai, found their way
Into my heart, stirred up the mischief there;
My sin-stung conscience sank in deep despair.
But Christ came by with garments roll'd in blood,
And round my soul, as near in love he stood,
He threw a robe of strange, yet matchless kind,
And hurl'd my sorrows to the stormy wind.
Thus God reveal'd his godlike righteousness,
And put it on, my court and wedding dress.
My soul, in this array'd, was proud to sing,
And envied not prince, prophet, priest, or king.
Near twenty years have since that time gone by;
Those twenty years prove earth and men a lie;
For here do hell and death abound within;

So hell's the sire of death, and death's the child of sin.

This makes me look on sinners, rich and poor,

Whose gods are men themselves, or worldly ore;

Norwich.

Whose paths volcanos shake each step they tread,
And darkness guides their feet among the dead.
Thus different minds and different passions move,
Grovelling in earth, they slight the joys above;
But Christians, called by grace, must die to live,
And to their Lord their whole affections give.
Idolatry besets their roving heart;

With righteous self they find it hard to part;
Snares catch their feet, destruction lies in wait;
Each day its trial brings, and every hour its bait.

The more they live to God, the more they see
The hellish monsters roaming after prey,
Leap from the deep recesses of their heart,
And roar till faith seems almost to depart.

Affrighted, "O," they cry, can grace reign here ?"
It does, the Spirit breathes, and stills their fear.
Spoil'd, and cast down, Satan no longer reigns,
Since sovereign grace the right of heaven maintains.
Through this wild desert, full of mighty foes,
No one but God could guide and interpose;
Ten thousand gins, ten thousand snares shall prove
The unfathomed mines of everlasting love.
Jesus their Lord has trod the path of death,
That ransom'd souls might live a life of faith.
Nor will he thank one soul for labour shown;
All human worth is hostile to his crown.

Divine perfection shines in Jesus' face,
In all his works, but most in works of grace;
Creation's colours fade in grace's dyes,
As each saved soul Immanuel's beauty eyes.
Then let us search these mines this year to come,
Nor be afraid of what our prayers bring home;
If sins uncovered drive us to the Lamb,
We shall but deeper feel to speak his fame.

Dying to nature, grace shall yield supplies;
Though prayer obtained, faith bids new joys arise;
Urged on by need, we wrestle hard in prayer,
And, bless'd with answers, God's own secret share.
But hell will most assail where God has shone;
Fear not, my brethren, boldly venture on;
Nor think it strange that you must hated be,
The world and Belial never can agree.
Come out! be bolder as affliction grows;
Let tongue, and heart, and life, and soul oppose
A fleshly Christ that world and devils share;
This will produce a crooked sweet new year.
Then let despair, and doubts, and fears distress,
And poverty and pain o'erwhelming press,
Our Christ is Lord of lords, and King of kings,
Onr souls are safe beneath his balmy wings.

Before his sacred feet all things must bow,
Mountains of sin and sorrow downward How,
In every evil we shall find some good,

Till heaven declares what earth in silence view'd.

G. M.

THE

GOSPEL STANDARD,

OR,

FEEBLE CHRISTIAN'S SUPPORT.

"Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness; for they shall be filled."-Matt. v. 6.

"Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began."—2 Tim. i. 9.

"The election hath obtained it, and the rest were blinded."-Rom. xi. 7.

"If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest.-And they went down both into the water, both Philip and the eunuch; and he baptized him.—In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."-Acts viii. 37, 38; Matt. xxviii. 19.

No. 86.

FEBRUARY, 1843. VOL. IX.

THE BLESSEDNESS OF WAITING AT WISDOM'S GATES. A SERMON.

"Blessed is the man that heareth me; watching daily at my gates; waiting at the posts of my doors."-Prov. viii. 34.

(Concluded from page 11.)

He does more

II. But another thing is said of the blessed man. than hear Wisdom's voice; he watches at Wisdom's gates. "Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates."

And what are these gates, at which the blessed man watcheth? By Wisdom's gates I understand those places where Wisdom speaks by those whom she calls her maidens-ministers, called and taught by the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Jesus. Among the Jews, counsels were held in the gates of the city; causes were heard and decided, and judgment was given; the oppressors were condemned, and the oppressed were delivered; property was redeemed, and contracts were entered into. So, also, in Wisdom's gates, where Wisdom presides and speaks, teaches and directs, these things, spiritually, are done, and heavenly business is transacted. At her gates she assembles and gathers together her children, to speak to them, and to give them good counsel. Here she reveals the secrets of their hearts; passes judgment upon what is false and evil; takes away their rotten props; drives them out of their refuges of lies; exposes the deceit of their hearts; opens them to receive the truth, and to attend unto the things that are spoken by her; brings redemption. into the soul; saves it from the oppressor, from the delusions of Satan, and the accusations of conscience; and sweetly reveals her pardon and peace. Here she strengthens the weak hands, and con

B

firms the feeble knees; comforts the distressed; satiates the longing soul; fills the empty soul with good things; opens blind eyes; unstops deaf ears; circumcises the heart; and makes the lame to leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb to sing. Here righteous judg ment is given; a true balance is held, and right and just weights are put therein; and the Lord is known to be a God of judgments, by whom actions are weighed. These are the gates of righteousness, the gates of wisdom; and here the righteous resort, and here the blessed man watches,

He watches. He does not go out of form, or custom, or merely to bear a fine orator, or to satisfy conscience. No; he watches. As the criminal on the gallows watches and strains his eyes, looking to the skirts of the crowd and to the distant hills, if peradventure he may see the messenger of mercy, despatched from the king's presence with the wished-for reprieve; as the sick patient anxiously looks towards the door, in expectation of the far-famed physician; as the shipwrecked mariner watches the dim spot in the horizon, in hopes it may prove to be a sail approaching for his deliverance; as the suitor watches the face of him to whom he presents his petition, or the beggar the opening of the gate in hopes of receiving an alms; even so does the blessed man watch at Wisdom's gates. He watches for some token for good; some message of peace; some sweet consolation; some sensible and powerful manifestation of love and freedom, mercy and grace; some interpretation of his case, and unravelling of his dark and intricate experience; some light on his path; some crumbs from the bread of life; some shinings and beams from the Sun of righteousness; some instructions in righteousness; some promises of good things; some proof that his spots are the spots of God's children, that he is not deceived, that he is in the way of life, and that he is among the jewels of the Lord. He watches attentively, he longs earnestly for these blessings. He goes to Wisdom's gates in hopes of hearing glad tidings; of being filled and rejoiced; of having pardon and peace sealed in his heart; of hearing Wisdom's voice, seeing her arm revealed, feeling her healing power, experiencing her deliverance, and feeding upon her soul-satisfying bounty of goodness. He cares not for empty words, but for power; not to have his judgment only informed, but to have his heart affected; not to be seen of man, but to see the Lord's face, and to have the light of his countenance lifted up upon him.

Thus he watches at Wisdom's gates, in expectation of seeing and receiving from her hand a good and perfect gift. Blessed is the man that heareth me, that watcheth daily at my gates."

The blessed man is said to attend DAILY, to hear and watch for Wisdom. Thus these blessed watchers watch daily, and wait for some hope, some comfort, some promise, some light and blessing from Wisdom. They are found at Wisdom's gates as often as they are open, and they are able to come. There is no need to exhort them to go there. They require no entreaties. They are hungry, and want food; needy and poor, and want to be enriched; naked, and want clothing; cold, and want to be warmed; miserable,