not suffered by him thus to pass. No sooner does he get a glimpse of the path of prayer, than he proceeds to tread it. The very fact of the fire being so low, is the most powerful reason for stirring it. Her Lord being lost, is the strongest argument for the Spouse seeking Him without delay; -“I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek Him whom my soul loveth."*

2. Observe David's importunity. into a holy boldness.

He waxes

He seeks to know from

"the God of his life" the reasons of this apparent desertion-"Why hast Thou forgotten me?' I cannot see or understand, as Thy covenant servant, the reason of all this depression-why, with all those promises of Thine, these hands should be hanging down, and these knees be so feeble."

The mother does not cast off her sick or feeble child. Its very weakness and weariness is an additional argument for her care and love, and draws her heart closer than ever to the bed of the tiny sufferer! David knew well that God, who had ever dealt with him “ as one whom his mother com

* Sol. Song iii. 2.

forteth," would not (unless for some wise reason) leave him to despondency. Looking to this immutable Covenant-Jehovah, and lifting his voice high above the water-floods, he thus, in impassioned prayer, pleads "the causes of his soul:"-" In Thee, O Lord, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver me in Thy righteousness. Bow down Thine ear to me; deliver me speedily: be Thou my strong rock, for an house of defence to save me. For Thou art my rock and my fortress; therefore for Thy name's sake lead me, and guide me. Pull me out of the net that they have laid privily for me: for Thou art my strength. Into Thine hand I commit my spirit: Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth."*

3. The Psalmist takes his SPECIAL TROUBLE to God, and makes it the subject of prayer. He names in the Divine presence the cause of his deepest perplexity. "As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me, while they say daily unto me, Where is thy God?" +

"Generalities," says a good man, "are the death of prayer." The loftiest privilege the believer can

* Psalm xxxi. 1-5.

Verse 10.

enjoy is the confidential unburdening of his wants into the ear of a Father. Just as a child can freely unbosom to a parent what he can do to no one else, so are we permitted to tell into the ear of our Father in heaven whatever may be the heartsorrow with which a stranger (often a friend) dare not intermeddle. See the speciality in the Psalmist's confession of his sin. It is not the general acknowledgment of a sinner. It is rather an humbled penitent carrying one deep crimson-stain to the mercy-seat; bringing it, and it alone, as if for the moment he had to deal respecting it only with the great Heart-searcher. "MY sin is ever before me."

"I have done this evil in Thy sight." "Wash me from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin." "I said, I will confess my transgressions, and Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin."*

Let us not think that we can ever have comfort in merging individual sins in a general confession. This is the great and pre-eminent advantage of secret closet-prayer. Social prayer and public prayer are eminently means of securing the Divine blessing; but it is in the quiet of the chamber,

*Psalms li. and xxxii.

when no eye and ear are on us but that of “our Father that seeth in secret," that we can bring our secret burdens to His altar,-crucify our secret sins, acknowledge the peculiar sources of our weakness and temptation, and get special grace to help us in our times of need.

*

But we may here ask, Have we any assurance that the prayers of David, at this critical emergency, were indeed answered? Or, (as we are often tempted in seasons of guilty unbelief to argue regarding our prayers still,) did they ascend unheard and unresponded to?-did the cries of the supplicant die away in empty echoes amid these glens of Gilead? We have his own testimony, in a magnificent ode of his old age, one of the last, and one of the noblest his lips ever sung, that Jehovah had heard him in the day of his trouble. It is a Psalm, as we are told in the title, written by him on his return to his capital, when victory had crowned his arms, and his kingdom was once more in peace. The aged Minstrel takes in it a retrospective survey of his eventful pilgrimage. Many a Mizar-hill in the long vista rises conspicuously into view. He climbs in * Psalm xviii.

thought their steeps, and erects his Ebenezer! As his flight and sojourn beyond Jordan formed the latest occurrence in that chequered life, we may well believe that in uttering these inspired numbers, the remembrance of his memorable soul-struggle there must have been especially present to his mind. Let us listen to his own words: "The sorrows of death compassed me, and THE FLOODS OF UNGODLY MEN made me afraid. In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried unto MY GOD: HE HEARD my voice out of His temple, and MY CRY CAME BEFORE HIM, EVEN INTO HIS EARS." In the sublimest poetical figures of all his Psalms, Jehovah is further represented in this hymn of thanksgiving as hastening with rapid flight, in august symbols of majesty, to the relief and succour of His servant-" bowing the heavens"-"the darkness under His feet"-"riding upon a cherub"-"flying upon the wings of the wind"-"sending out His arrows, and scattering His foes"—"shooting out lightnings" and "discomfiting them." And with the writer's mind still resting on the same emblems which he uses in his Exile-Psalm,-the "deep calling to deep❞—the "noise of the water-spouts "—the