MIDNIGHT HYMN.

At midnight I will rise to give thanks unto thee, because of thy righteous judgments.-PSALM CXIX. 62

IN the mid silence of the voiceless night,

When, chased by airy dreams, the slumbers flee;
Whom, in the darkness, doth my spirit seek,
O God, but thee?

And, if there be a weight upon my breast,
Some vague impression of the day foregone,
Scarce knowing what it is, I fly to thee,
And lay it down.

Or, if it be the heaviness, that comes

In token of anticipated ill,

My bosom takes no heed of what it is,
Since 't is thy will.

For, O, in spite of past or present care,

Or anything beside,-how joyfully

Passes that silent, solitary hour,

My God, with thee!

More tranquil than the stillness of the night,
More peaceful than the silence of that hour,
More blest than anything, my bosom lies
Beneath thy power.

For, what is there on earth, that I desire,
Of all that it can give, or take from me?
Or whom, in heaven, doth my spirit seek,
O God, but thee?

III.

THE WELL SPRING IN THE DESERT.

"This is my comfort in mine afliction."-Ps. cxIx. 50.

"Is any among you afflicted? let him pray."-JAMES, v. 13.

HE Bible opens a spring of comfort for the afflicted,

THE

by giving them free access to the throne of grace, and inviting them to enjoy the privilege of prayer.

This is, indeed, the Christian's privilege at all seasons; and never will he feel himself to be in a right or comfortable state, whatever may be his outward prosperity, if he allow himself to neglect that blessed ordinance, by which intercourse is maintained betwixt heaven and earth, and fellowship enjoyed by the creature with the Creator. And he who, whether in prosperity or adversity, makes it his daily practice to go to the throne of grace, and in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, makes his request known unto God, will, from his own experience, bear testimony to the truth of the promise, that "the peace of God which passeth all understanding, shall keep his heart and mind through Christ Jesus."

But while prayer is a duty incumbent at all seasons, and a privilege which the highest prosperity affords no reason for neglecting, it is, in many respects, peculiarly seasonable in the time of affliction.

Affliction is favourable to the spirit of prayer. For, wherein does the true nature of prayer consist? It consists in the desire of the heart, offered up to God; and what better fitted to awaken earnest desire than the pressure of affliction? In the day of prosperity, when every want or appetite of our nature is supplied, we may not be conscious of any very strong desire, and are too apt to forget the fact of our dependence, in respect to the supply of our temporal wants; and even in regard to our spiritual necessities, we are prone, when surfeited with worldly prosperity, to become cold and lukewarm in our desires after the communication of divine grace, by which alone they can be supplied. Is there one Christian who has not experienced the deadening effect of uninterrupted prosperity on the spiritual desires and holiest affections of his nature? And if even Christians are too often lulled asleep by its influence, how much more may those be cradled into profound forgetfulness of God, who have never known the necessity, nor made the deliberate choice, of a better and more enduring portion? But when their prosperous course is broken by severe affliction, the minds of both classes are brought into a new state; the Christian is then thrown back on the inward resources of his religion, and will then feel their necessity and value; and even in an unsanctified bosom, such strong natural longings will spring up, as may, under the blessing of God, lead the worldling himself to seek after a better portion than the world. In so far as affliction is

the means of awakening earnest desire, and exciting a sincere feeling in the heart, it is favourable to the spirit of prayer; for that feeling, or that desire, if directed towards God, is prayer.

Again, prayer is an expression of our dependence on God; and it is in affliction that we are most sensible of our helplessness, it is by affliction that we are made to feel how little of what most nearly concerns our happiness is under our own control, and how absolutely our interests are at the disposal of a higher power. What, for instance, can impress the mind with so deep a sense of helplessness, as the pressure of disease in our own persons, which no human skill can arrest or cure; or the gradual decay and final dissolution of a beloved friend, at whose couch we watch by day and by night, and are only more and more confirmed in the conviction, that unless God interpose, vain is the help of man? In so far as affliction teaches us our dependence on God, it is favourable to the spirit of prayer; for why, in such circumstances, should we refrain from expressing that dependence which we feel, and acknowledging that helplessness which we cannot deny, especially when we know that God has a sovereign control over all events, and that, if we procure his aid, we obtain the benefit of unerring wisdom and almighty power?

Again, affliction is favourable to the spirit of prayer, because, when it is either sudden or severe, it is usually associated in the minds of men with a sense of guilt, and on apprehension of divine displeasure. We insist

not on the reasons of it, but on the bare fact that such an apprehension is universally felt by those who are exposed to imminent danger, or plunged in deep distress; and that, by the constitution of our nature, such a connexion is established betwixt suffering and sin, as that the former cannot be, to any great extent, endured, without being accompanied with a deep sense of personal demerit and guilt. That such a connexion does exist, is evident from the dreadful apprehensions which are experienced and expressed by the most ungodly and careless, when they are suddenly brought into imminent danger. Many will then tremble, and think of God, who cared nothing for religion before. Have we not seen a family, enjoying a long course of prosperity, and as unmindful of God and religion, as if they were ignorant that they had a God to worship, and souls to be saved; but when one of their number was suddenly seized by the hand of death, the whole of that gay household were also seized with religious fear, and none more anxious than they to procure the aid of a minister's consolations, and a minister's prayers! Have we not known a rude and thoughtless sailor, spending every hour of fair weather and prosperous winds in jovial mirth,-night after night retiring to his cot without thinking of the God above, or of the hell beneath him, -and even, when the first gale arose that was to founder his ship, reckless of the coming storm; but when the crash was heard, and when, from the force of habit, the first word upon his lip was an oath, that oath died away