sorely some days to think I have no part or lot in the matter,-that a heart so full of wicked thoughts and unbelieving fears, can never have been cleansed in the precious blood of Christ. But my little song-bird is there,-'Come now, and let us reason together; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;' and again I hear the voice of love, but I never weary of it, 'Come unto me!' so I go and make my complaint to Jesus, and that's what He calls me for. Some days the bread runs low, aye, and the coals too, and I wonder if the money is all safe for the next week's rent. I ought to be sure of that, for it is in the Lord's hand. haps I go about perplexed and sorrowful for a bit (you see, I can do nothing for myself now); I Per say, what shall I do? I wait and wonder, but soon there is heard the same message, 'Come unto me!' I go straight to the King of Heaven, and tell Him I need fuel and food; and He sends me both, and to spare, aye, more than I asked for. Blessed be His name!" "I love the word," said her friend; "but I do not think I ever felt its power over daily trials so much as to-day; you have preached me a little sermon on one word. How often you will remember it has cheered you, Bessy, when you hear it from the lips of your loving Lord, who has guided you through the wild wilderness safe into the promised land. Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world."" "Yes," said the happy woman, as rapture seemed to kindle in her almost sightless eyes, "and I look to sing it to Him too. Yes, a sinner saved by grace may say it to the Lord of Glory, 'COME, Lord Jesus!' My eyes that now only know night from morning, shall look upon His face; for He will 'come with clouds, and every eye shall see Him,' and I shall behold Him, and be with Him for evermore. But after all," added the widow, after a long pause, "you must own it was that one little word that did it all." "Yes," said her friend, "the Heavenly Dove took of the things of Jesus (John xvi. 14), and shewed them unto you. Oh, that we were always ready to listen, and never grieved this loving messenger." Dear Reader, do you know this song-bird of the Better Land, who made the widow's heart to sing for joy? Are you born again?—for only by the renewing of the heart is the ear opened to the voice of the Holy Spirit. Are you as she once was, weary and heavy laden? I do not mean with the world's toil and the world's pleasure, but with the consciousness of sins too heavy to be borne, when the soul is awakening to a sense of danger. Oh! then, hear the free invitation, "Come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price." What will it serve you, "if you gain the whole world, and lose your own soul? or, what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” Will works save you? What will it avail you that you have taught the ignorant, fed the hungry, and clothed the naked, if you have not given your heart to God, who gave Himself for you? What better are you that others are entering the Kingdom of Heaven by your means, and you yourself cast into outer darkness, with weeping and gnashing of teeth? Your heart may have tasted of pleasure from deeds of kindness, then you have had your reward ; but forasmuch as you have given of the labour of your hands, and not the love of your heart, it is an offence to God, for you voluntarily reject the Son He gave to save you; it is the sacrifice of Cain. Through the din and turmoil of life, the sweet voice of that Dove soundeth still, "Whosoever will, let him come." If you are listening for the praise of men, or the foolish songs and the mad mirth of a world lying in wickedness, or the ring of the gold and silver on the counter, or the echo of your own good deeds, then indeed it is not to be wondered at, that the oft-repeated invitation of the Heavenly Dove is lost in the world's clamour; there is no place for the sole of her foot; she is back to the Ark; or she is nestling in the broken heart of some contrite sinner, who finds the burden of his sin intolerable; or cheering some sorrowful child of God, who totters to the feet of Jesus beneath his weight of sorrow, or life's daily needs. Have you never longed to hear that voice of love? Oh! pause and listen for it now. The same loving heart that gave forth that gracious invitation on the shore of Galilee sends it forth still-" Come unto me." Will your formal Sabbaths, your prayers, save you? Are you trusting in them? Beloved Reader, nothing can be more dangerous; it is the worship of Antichrist. All your prayers multiplied a thousandfold cannot save your soul from hell! The fearful penalty of your sins is paid, the mighty transaction is completed for you by the Redeemer, who "His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were healed " (1 Pet. ii. 24); He having made peace through the blood of His cross (Col. i. 20), that you should go free! What would it have availed the Israelites had they eaten the paschal Lamb and the bitter herbs outside the blood-stained lintel? or if they had chosen sacrifices according to their own devices and superstitious imaginations? The will of the Lord was revealed to them in this matter; it is more fully revealed now; there is but one Sacrifice for sin-the Lamb without blemish and without spot. If you are striving to win forgiveness for yourself, you reject the Son of God, who died to save you. You must |