The Soul’s Desertion

The Soul's Desertion

(No. 3552)

A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1917.

DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"My beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone." Solomon's Song 5:6.

The happiest condition of a Christian out of Heaven is to live in the
conscious enjoyment of the Presence of the Lord Jesus. When the love of
Christ is shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Spirit, the Believer
need not envy an angel his harp of gold! It matters not what may be his
outward trial, the Holy Spirit is able to make the heart live above all
surrounding circumstances, so that we can have summer in the midst of
winter and pluck our ripest fruits when there are neither leaves nor
fruits upon the tree. But the Christian is unhappy–unhappy to the
utmost degree–whenever he loses the sense of the Presence of his Lord.
Then the pillars of his house are made to tremble, his fresh springs
are dried up, the sun is hid from his eyes and the sky is so dark
overhead that he walks, rather wanders, about a world which cannot
render to his soul any substantial comfort. Were he a worldling, he
could live upon the world, but having been taught by Divine Grace to
aspire after something nobler and better, the loss is exceedingly
grievous to his spirit. I question whether the most of Christians do
not sometimes lose the enjoyment of the Lord's company. I question yet
further whether there are not very many professors who live contentedly
under that loss–nor can I account for this, except on the supposition
that they can have known but little of that Presence in their best
estate. Otherwise, they must be in a most sickly and slumbering
condition of soul, gradually becoming worse and worse–or else they
never could bear to have things as they are with them. It seems to me
that a real Believer in a sound state of health no sooner loses the
Presence of his Lord than he begins to cry for Him. Where has Christ
gone? Why have I lost sight of Him? The sounds of His footsteps still
linger in the ear. The Believer wakens and starts, and asks himself,
"How is this? Where has my Beloved gone? What is it that has chased Him
from me? I cannot live if He leaves me, therefore, let me speedily seek
Him and never rest until once more I am restored to full communion with
Him." Let me, then, talk a little with such Believers as have lost, for
awhile, the comfortable Presence of their Lord. The first question
shall be–

I. WHY WAS THE BELOVED GONE?

According to the text, He was gone. Read the preceding verses, or
perhaps you have them upon your memories. The spouse had been asleep.
This was the beginning of the mischief. "I sleep, but my heart wakes."
If we begin to fall asleep, we must not wonder if we miss the
quickening and comforting influences of our Lord's Presence. Jesus
Christ did not put us in His Church that we might sleep away our time
on earth. Do not fancy that such an active spirit as that which burned
and blazed in our Savior's flesh can be content to hold communion with
lazy sluggards who toss upon their bed and say, "Yet a little more
sleep and a little more folding of the arms to slumber." It is the
active Christian who keeps pace with Christ! Christ is a quick
walker–if you crawl along the path of duty, He will soon leave you
behind–until you begin to enquire, "Where is He gone," and quicken
your pace to overtake Him. Are there any here who have missed Christ's
Presence, and who may trace it to the fact that they have been drowsy
in prayer of late, heavy in all the exercises of study and duty, and,
in fact, altogether sleepy? Have they been without care for the
conversion of others, having scarcely any concern, even, about their
own children? Are they, perhaps, indifferent to the welfare of Christ's
Church, feeding little upon the Word and resorting but little to the
assemblies of the saints? Marvel not if the Beloved withdraws Himself
when His spouse does nothing but nod and sleep, instead of keeping
company with Him in active service!

After the spouse had fallen asleep, her Beloved came and knocked at the
door, saying, "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled,
for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the
night." Yet she refused to open the door to him. Surely this is another
sin which drives Christ away–when admonished for falling into a drowsy
state, not to regard it. Depend upon it, there is extreme peril to a
soul that does not accept the warning. Awful as it is to sin when
unwarned, it is still more horrible to persevere in sin in the teeth of
rebuke and after gentle, loving expostulations. What? Did conscience
prick me and will I not be scrupulous? After having seen my fault and
smarted for it, do I still persist in it? Have I been lukewarm and
indifferent? Does the Holy Spirit visit me, remonstrate with me, and
make me feel that I am gradually backsliding and little by little
declining? Have I vowed and resolved that I would seek spiritual
recovery and am I still as dull, careless, and unconcerned as ever?
This argues ill and argues ill for my soul! The Beloved will not put up
with these rebuffs forever. Out of love to us, He will hide His face.
If we grieve Him, He will go. If we walk frowardly towards Him, He will
soon walk frowardly towards us. These are God-provoking sins! It is a
defying of His Spirit when you thus spurn His gentle admonitions!

Note, further, that the spouse, when her Beloved knocked at the door,
made idle excusesthat she had taken off her cloak and her sandals, and
could not put them on. She was taking her rest upon her couch and could
not bring herself to come to the door to let him in. Ah, how often
self-indulgence lies at the bottom of the sin that drives Christ away!
A Believer cannot let his lower nature get the uppermost and yet find
that he is walking agreeably to the Lord's mind. Your spiritual nature
ought to keep your mental nature under control–and your mental nature
ought to keep your bodily or animal nature entirely in check. A man who
is a thinker and a philosopher will scorn to let the mere passions
govern him, but a true Christian, having a yet higher spirit within him
than the mere mind, having that new living Seed within himself which
comes from God, and leads him to God, should not and must not allow his
baser nature to reign supreme! If we indulge the flesh, depend upon it,
Christ will not be with us! He does not come to dwell with swine, but
with men–but not with men of the earth, earthy, except in order to
renew them and make them like Himself, who is the Second Man, the Lord
from Heaven–to make them heavenly. If your conversation is to be with
Christ, your conversation must be in Heaven! If you would enjoy the
sunlight, you must not bow your face down to the earth. If you seek to
be enriched in the things of God, you must not be forever groping among
the dark pits and bogs, and morasses of earth. Oh, Soul, are you
indulging yourself and taking things easy? Carnal security is one of
your worst enemies! Do I hear any man say, "It is enough, my Soul–you
have much spiritual goods laid up for many years–take your ease"? Do
you think that there is no need for you to watch? Do you think you have
become so experienced that there is no occasion for you to be much in
prayer, for a word with you is as an hour with some? Do you imagine
that there is no cause for you to be continually striving against your
besetting sin because you have got such complete mastery over these
infirmities? Oh, when we talk so, we betray the darkness in which we
are living, the self-deception we are fostering, the corruption we are
degenerating into and the desertion we are provoking! Such backsliding
as this will soon make Jesus hide His face from us!

Beloved, the simple reason of Christ's conscious absence from our souls
is, in most cases, sin. I say in most cases, for sometimes Christ may
hide Himself in absolute Sovereignty, but I am always jealous lest we
should charge God foolishly. You are so apt to put too many saddles on
that stalking horse! There are such multitudes of professors who would
even excuse their sins upon the plea of a Divine Sovereignty which
exposed them to temptation, that I scarcely like to mention it. I
believe that God does not afflict willingly or arbitrarily the children
of men. Neither does Christ hide His face from His people for
nothing–but your sins have separated between you and your God. He
chastises us, not as silly parents may do, out of mere spleen or
caprice, or to please themselves, as the Apostle seemed to think some
fathers did in his day, for he says, "They verily chastened us after
their own pleasure." But when God chastens us, it is for our profit.
Our good is His aim and His end in using the rod of correction. He
makes us smart for the sin which seemed sweet. He nauseates our palate
with the bitter fruits of disobedience, that we may afterwards relish
the peaceable fruits of righteousness!

Now, Beloved, in each individual case, the hiding of the Lord's face
may be occasioned by a different sin. It is very probable that my Lord
thinks that to be a high sin in me which He would take little notice of
in you. It is equally possible that He may think that to be peculiarly
offensive in you which He would not visit in my case with stripes, for
according to our constitution, our office, our experience, our light
and our several circumstances, our transgressions may be estimated. You
are not provoked, perhaps, by a good deal of noise from one of your
children, but half that noise from another of your children would
exceedingly vex you. Because the one happens to be of a quick,
impetuous temperament, you set it down to natural disposition, but the
other, being of gentler habit and quieter mood, you upbraid him for his
excitement, as if it were of evil prepense and intended to aggravate
and annoy! So you may have a confidential servant in your family, from
whom you may reasonably expect more care, thoughtfulness and
circumspection than you look for in any of the other servants. The more
trust you repose, the more scrupulousness you require. Let us, then,
each one according to his position, seek Grace to walk uprightly,
carefully, tenderly. It has been well said that what an ordinary
subject might do or say, one of the Cabinet Council must not even
think. The favorite of kings has a dangerous path to walk– and though
it is a blessed privilege to be the favorite of Heaven, it involves a
very solemn responsibility. "You only have I known of all the
inhabitants of the earth; therefore, I will punish you for your
iniquities." You can see defilement on a white slab which you would not
have noticed on the common soil–and so there are sins which spoil the
character of saints that would hardly be observed in ordinary society.
The Presence of Christ can only be preserved with incessant
watchfulness and inviolate fidelity. The sacred Dove is soon disturbed.
The Beloved is soon awakened and made to stir. Hence it should be our
cry, "I charge you by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that you
stir not up, nor awake my love until he please." Having thus considered
the cause why the Beloved is gone, let us enquire– II. WHAT ENSUES
UPON THE WITHDRAWAL OF HIS PRESENCE?

Great mistakes have been made upon this subject. Some have supposed
that Believers suddenly cease to be followers of Christ, go back into
the world, apostatize and perish! But the Lord does not desert His
people after this fashion. He has not cast away His people whom He did
foreknow, and He never will! Has He put His hand to the work of their
salvation? He will not permanently turn away from them! When he turns
away, it is always with a gracious motive–hence the consequences,
though often very sad–are notfatal. The withdrawal of His conscious
Presence is not intended to slay us, though it brings us very low and
would leave us a prey to destruction were it not that He stays His hand
in time, and gives Grace to keep the soul alive under His desertion!

As soon as Christ is gone, there is a suspension of those influences
that once made the Christian happy and strong. The Holy Spirit no
longer comforts the soul. The Word does not enliven or invigorate. The
sweetest sermons fail to cheer the heart. Even the promises of God's
Holy Book are like lanterns without candles–they bring no light. When
Christ hides His face from a disciple, his spirits flag and he feels a
general depression. He cannot pray as it was his habit to do– he
cannot preach as he once did. The holy duties to which he tenaciously
clings become rather a burden than a pleasure. Instead of those
delightful walks he had alone when his soul went up to God in quiet
meditation, he finds his thoughts all dissipated, scattered here and
there. Nor can he by any means concentrate–far less can he make his
thoughts soar and mount towards Christ. He goes to his Bible–not as
often as he did, nor yet so solemnly as he did–but the Book does not
speak to him. God answers him neither by Urim nor by Thummim, nor by
open voice. And now he does not seem to have the illuminations of God's
Spirit. He does not dive into the meaning of the Word as once he did.
Providence, again, seems dark. The secret of the Lord does not appear
to be with him as it formerly was. He has no enjoyment. The soul
follows after God after a fashion, but, alas, he has to cry, "Why are
you cast down, O my Soul, and why are you disquieted within me?" Thus
Divine Influences are, for a while suspended.

Then it follows that he loses much of his assurance. He used to know he
was a Christian. Now he begins to sing, "'Tis a point I long to know."
So he has to furbish up his old evidences and eat some of the stale
food that he used to care little for when he used to live upon a daily
portion from the King, even a portion from the King's table. He sits
down in the ashes and is glad to sit there. Sometimes he mourns because
he cannot mourn, and frets because he cannot fret. While he sees his
sin, he is afraid he has not a true feeling of it. Though he still
looks to the Cross of Christ and to the precious blood of Atonement, he
does not seem to have the power of looking that he once had, nor to
derive that comfort from casting himself upon the finished work which
before he did when Jesus Christ was manifestly with Him.

But perhaps it will aid you in realizing the dark features of this
desertion if I use a little simile. You see full often a house that is
left by its former tenant and is shut up. Jesus Christ never altogether
leaves a heart of which He has once taken possession. There is one room
in a Believer's soul which the Holy Spirit never quits. Where He comes,
He comes to abide and to abide forever! Still, that room is so secret
that while He resides there, the whole house may look as if it was
deserted. Compare that empty house with a cheerful home. What a
contrast between its previous and present condition! Why, the joy has
gone from it/The blinds are drawn down–or, perhaps, the windows stare
at you in their desolation. The house looks unfurnished. It is no
longer an ornament to the street. Its decorations have vanished since
its inhabitants have fled. The house is there, with all its capacities,
but the home, with all its vivacities, is lacking. The life and the
loveliness have gone from it! And so a child of God soon loses all his
joy and comfort when the Tenant of his soul is withdrawn. No sparkling
of the eyes, no singing of the great hallelujahs, no sounding of the
cymbals, even the high-sounding cymbals. He will be glad enough to get
a note out of the harp, now! He cannot get up to those glorious songs
which once made his spirit keep tune with the angels because the joys
of Heaven had come down to earth!

Then the house, being empty, is sure to get into a state of filth.
There is nobody to clean the dust–all sorts of spiders and foul things
get into the corners and crannies–and the longer the house is shut up,
the more these creatures multiply. Down in the cellar there is a little
vegetation–long yellow stalks and roots trying to live–left there by
some old inhabitant. But there is nothing fair, nor beautiful. All is
uncomfortable. So it gets to be in our hearts! All sorts of evils
spring up. Evils we little suspected, which would have been kept in
check by the Presence of Christ, begin to multiply and increase upon
us, and the little good that is in us seems to be an unhealthy sprout
bringing forth nothing unto perfection!

Then a house with nobody in it decays. How the metal rusts! How the
paint gets stained! How the wood begins to rot! How the whole thing has
a damp kind of smell! It is all going to ruin. Why, 10 years of
habitation would not do so much mischief as these 12 months of shutting
up. When Jesus Christ is gone, everything is amiss–love nearly
expires, hope scarcely glimmers, faith is well-nigh paralyzed, no Grace
is in lively exercise! Without the life of God in the soul, there is a
total collapse and a chill strikes right through the spirit. Has the
house been long empty? The boys outside are pretty sure to mark it for
their sport, and to break the windows. In fact, it stands exposed to
all sorts of outward damage. So, too, with malice and mischief, the
devil will come upon a man when he knows that he has lost the light of
God's Countenance. What a horrible old coward he is! When the child of
God is rejoicing in the company of Christ, he has not often to
encounter Satan. The accuser of the Brothers and Sisters well knows how
to time his tactics and his temptations! But when he sees that the Lord
has departed, then Satan takes courage and attacks the child of God to
his serious damage and hurt! I heard the other day of a good country
plowman who told a story of victory over temptation in his own simple
style. He was a man who feared God above his neighbors and seemed to
live above the world in spiritual things. A minister asked him if he
did not get tempted and worried sometimes by Satan. "Yes," he said, "I
have known much about being tempted by Satan in my time. Why, Sir, 10
years ago I was threshing in this barn, here, and the devil came upon
me with a strong temptation. It plagued and worried me so, that I could
not get rid of it–till at length I put down my flail and got away into
a corner, just beyond the wheat there–and I wrestled with God against
Satan until I gained such a victory that I came back to my place
rejoicing! Many a time since that," said the old man, "he has lurked
about my path, but I never stop to parley. I repeat the promise by
which I found a way of escape that day in this barn, and I feel myself
made strong by the remembrance of that victory." Yes, and just so when
we can remember some of those occasions when we seemed to overcome
temptation by private communion with God, then we get strong, but–

"Let the Lord be once withdrawn

And we attempt the work alone,

When new temptations spring and rise–

We find how great our weakness is." Like Samson, when his hair was
lost, we think we shall defeat Satan as at other times, but we–

"Shake our limbs with vain surprise,

Make feeble fight and lose our eyes." When houses have been long left
without tenants and look deserted, they get up a rumor that they are
haunted. And I am sure that when a heart has been left by Christ and
there have been no comfortable enjoyments of His Presence, our souls do
get haunted with strange, mysterious doubts and fears, vexations and
forebodings which you cannot grapple with–horrors that do not take any
shape, troubles that ought not to be distressing, alarms that are made
up of shadows–dangers that have not any real existence! Oh, that
Christ were there! As phantoms would all vanish in the sunlight, so
would all these dreary doubts and dismal dilemmas be chased away if
Christ returned! Oh, that our poor empty house could once more have its
gates flung wide open and that the King would come to dwell in His own
palace and make it all bright and lustrous with His Presence! Master,
see how sick we are without You! Come, blessed Physician! Jesus, see
what wretched beings we are if You withdraw! Come, our Beloved, come to
us! Let the sad effects of Your departure quicken Your footsteps and
bring You over the mountains of division to the longing spirits of Your
fainting children! Passing on, let us enquire–

III. WHAT COMFORT IS THERE FOR A SOUL WHEN THE BELOVED HAS WITHDRAWN
HIMSELF AND

IS GONE?

Let me reply, there is no comfort at all that will be of any service to
you unless you get Him back. Ah, but if a wife loves her husband, and
he is gone, we may quote the old song–

"There is nae luck about the house When thegudeman'sawa'."

The dear man, the joy of her heart, being gone, she could not make
anything go well. And so, where the loving heart has lost its Beloved,
its best Beloved, there seems to be no joy anywhere! Nothing can make
up to a regenerate soul for the loss of the society of her Lord. And
yet some considerations may help to stay us while we are seeking for
it. Though He is gone, He is still our Beloved. Though we cannot see
Him, yet we love Him! And if we cannot enjoy Him, we thirst after Him!
And that is some consolation, though it is a poor consolation, to think
it has not quite lost all its life, for it has got life enough to
smart, life enough to be in pain and life enough to feel itself in
exile until Christ's return! I think, too, there is some comfort in
this–that though He is gone, He is gone out of love. Was it in a tiff
of anger? Yet it was rather a rebuke of our sins than a rejection of
our persons. Christ withdraws because He wants to bring us to our
senses and to draw us more closely to Himself. He knows that if we were
to have enjoyments and yet walk in sin, this would be highly dangerous
and, therefore, these enjoyments must be withheld till the heart is
broken and the soul abhors itself in dust and ashes!

It is some comfort also, that though He is gone, He is not gone out of
earshot. Jesus Christ can still hear the cry of His people. No, He is
not gone beyond the reach of His eyesight. He is looking upon His poor
deserted one to see what the effect of His hiding Himself is.

And there is this to be said, that He is not so far gone but that at
any moment He can return, and His return can at once make our souls
like the chariots of Aminnadib! He can rise upon our darkness and that
in the next instant if so it pleased Him. He is gone, but He is not
altogether gone. He has not taken His love from us, nor shall His
loving kindness utterly fail. Still on His hands He bears the marks of
His passion for our salvation. Still on His breastplate glitter the
jewels that bear our names. He cannot forget us, though He hides
Himself! He may be asleep, but it is in the same vessel with us–and
near the helm. He may appear to have utterly deserted us, but, "can a
woman forget her sucking child that she should not have compassion on
the son of her womb?" Yes, they may forget, but Christ shall never
forget His saints! But now, lastly–

IV. WHAT IS OUR DUTY IN SUCH A PLIGHT?

If he is gone, what then? I answer–our duty is to repent of that which
has driven Him away. We must institute a search at once! Bunyan
describes the citizens of Mansoul as searching for the cause why
Immanuel had withdrawn Himself, and they took Master Carnal-Security
and burned his house, and hanged him on a gallows on the site where the
house stood, for it was through feasting with him that the Prince was
angered, and His subjects lost His Presence. Search yourselves if you
are not as happy as you were–if you are not living as near Heaven-Gate
as you were, search yourselves.

And having done so, and found out the evil, ask for Divine Grace to be
purged of it. Oh, you will fall into that evil, again, if you trust to
your own strength! But in reliance upon the Holy Spirit's power, you
can overcome it–you can put your foot upon the neck of this evil and
so destroy it that it shall not molest you again!

And then, Beloved, let me earnestly entreat you–and I am speaking more
to myself, perhaps, than I am to any of you–to stir up your whole soul
to recover lost ground. Be ashamed that there is any lost ground to
recover. Oh, it is easier to lose Christ than it is to find Him after
we have lost Him. It is easier to go straight on in the strength of
Grace than it is to have to go back to find your roll which you have
lost under the settle in the Harbor of Ease, and then, after going
back, to have to go over the same ground again! When you have got the
wings of an eagle, what blessed work it is to soar and to pass over
long tracks of country! But when the eagle wing is gone and you have to
limp painfully along, like David, with broken bones, it is hard work.
But, Beloved, if you have slipped at all, ask for Grace to recover now!
For my own part, I feel I have so little Grace that I have none to
lose. As to falling back–oh, what should we be if we fell at all back,
for we are back enough now! We are nowhere at all in comparison with
the saints of God in the olden times. We are but beginners and babes,
but where, where, where shall we be if we are to go still farther back?
No, no, Sovereign Grace, prevent so dreadful a catastrophe! Press
forward!

And, Brothers and Sisters, will it not be a great thing and a right
thing for us to endeavor to set apart much time for special prayer that
we may have lost Grace restored Should we not set ourselves to this one
thing–that we must get back, by the simplicity of faith, to the foot
of the Cross? And by the earnestness of love, unto the bosom of the
Master once more–and that we will not be satisfied with preaching, and
praying, and going to places of worship, or with ordinances, or with
anything–until we get Christ back again? Oh, my Soul, I charge you be
content with nothing till you get your Lord again! Say, with the good
housewife I spoke of just now, whose husband was away from home, "Yes,
this room shall be decorated, and every part of the house shall be
cleansed, but, ah, the joy of my heart will be to see him return! And
until he comes, the house cannot be cheerful and joyous." It is so with
our souls. We must have the King back, and back soon! And when He does
come back, we must hold Him fast and not let Him go. Charge your souls
to be more careful in the future, lest you again provoke Him to
jealousy.

Alas, for those who never knew my Lord! Oh, may they seek Him early and
find Him speedily! If it is sad to lose His Presence for awhile, what
must it be to live and die without Christ? Oh, that is a black word for
anyone to have written on his brow, "Without Christ." If you are in
that condition, dear Hearer, may Divine Grace bring you to Christ, and
Christ to you, that you may enjoy the fellowship of His love! Amen.

EXPOSITION BY C. H. SPURGEON: SONG OF SOLOMON 2:1-7; 3:1-5.

SONG OF SOLOMON 2.

Verses 1, 2. I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As
the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.It is the
nature of love to make the thing beloved like itself. If Christ is a
lily, He makes His people lilies, too. Certainly He is the lily of the
valley, and before long His Church is able to say, "As the lily among
the thorns, so am I," while for the present, Jesus says it. She is
among the thorns, thorns that hurt and vex her. The people of God are
still in the tents of Kedar, still among the wicked, having their ears
vexed with their filthy conversation. But the lily is all the more
beautiful on account of the thorns that make the background–and so
your piety may be all the more resplendent because of the evil men
among whom you sojourn.

3. As the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved
among the sons. The citron tree towered aloft in the midst of the
forest and it was covered with its golden apples. Such is Jesus Christ,
the most lovely of all objects, and though there are some that pretend
to contend with Him, yet to the Believer, rivals are left in the
distance–no–they are altogether forgotten! "As the apple tree among
the trees of the woods, the most distinguished and the most lovely, so
is my beloved among the sons." How do you know?

3. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was
sweet to my taste. I know his loveliness, for I have felt it, and I not
only have comfort without, but I have food within.

4, 5. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was
love. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of
love. A strange thing is this love of Christ, for, as Erskine puts it–

"When well, it makes me sick; When sick, it makes me well."

There is no infirmity which this love of Christ cannot care, no
conflicting passion which it cannot remove and, on the other hand, a
great amount of this love shed abroad in the heart will often prostrate
the Christian with excess of delight, till he is ready to cry out, with
good Mr. Welsh, the Scotch pastor, "Hold, Lord! Hold! It is enough!
Remember I am but an earthen vessel and if I have too much of Glory, I
shall not live." I am afraid we shall not often have to say this, yet
there are times when the Believer's joy knows no bounds and his
hallowed delight in his God is so excessive that he needs to have some
supernatural support to enable him to endure the delight which his
Father gives him!

6. His left hand is under my head, and his right hand does embrace me.
The hand with which He smites His enemies cannot smite me, for it is
under my head, my sweet support. And His right hand, the hand with
which He blesses, the hand of His power and His Glory, does embrace
each one of His people.

7. I charge you, Oyou daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the
hinds of the field, that you stir not up, nor awake my love, till he
please. The next passage we shall read is at the commencement of the
Third Chapter, and presents quite a different scene. Perhaps you will
scarcely think it is the same person that writes it, but, oh, we are
very variable! See now how that sunshine has just gilded that side of
the house and, in another minute–see–it melts away and has gone
again! Just so is it with our experience. We rejoice for a few moments,
but soon the clouds hang heavy over us and we scarcely know what and
where we are! The Spouse has now altered, but her Husband never does
alter, for the Lord, the King, abides still the same, and herein is our
joy.

SONG OF SOLOMON 3.

Verses 1-3. By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loves: I
sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, andgo about the city
in the streets, andin the broad ways I willseek him whom my soulloves:
Isought him but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city
found me: to whom I said, Saw you him whom my soul loves?The same
question over and over again–only that one thought, "Where is He?"
Ministers were nothing. Streets of ordinances were nothing. What the
soul needed was to find a personal Christ, and to have personal
fellowship with Him.

4. It was but a little that Ipassed from them, but I found him whom my
soulloves; Iheld him and wouldnot let him go. Jacob's wrestling is
succeeded by Jacob's vows.

4. UntilIhad brought him into my mother's house, andinto the chamber
ofher that conceivedme. Fellowship that is sweet to me must be sweet to
others of my Brothers and Sisters, therefore will I bring Him to the
Church, and tell to all the assembled people how sweet, how delightful
He is to my soul!

5. I charge you, O you daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the
hinds of the field, that you stir not up, nor awake my love, till he
please.