is easy, and his burden light; or if at any time it
seem heavy, and you go and mention it to him, he
gives you a promise that his grace shall be sufficient
for you, and his strength be made perfect in weak-
ness. Then the difficulty which you complained of
presently passes away; your work goes on pleasantly,
and you cry out with surprise, "I can do all things,
through Christ, who strengtheneth me." When the
seventy disciples returned from their progress, he
asked them; "When I sent you forth without scrip
or purse, lacked ye any thing?" and they said, "No-
thing." Be assured that he will take the same care
of you.
He will keep a watchful eye upon you, to
see that you want nothing which is needful for your
support; and to grant you relief in every distress.
But you may expect also a glorious reward when
your
labour is ended. It is an honour indeed, that Christ
will own you for servants, and accept your feeble
endeavours. But though your works of faith, and
labours of love, be very imperfect, they will not be
forgotten, but meet with a gracious reward. I will
not attempt to tell you what this will be but there
is enough to animate your most vigorous powers, and
encourage and exceed your most elevated hopes, in
that single promise, "If any man serve me, let him
follow me; and where I am, there shall also my ser-
vant be. If any man serve me, him will my Father
honour."

Now, Christians, if the Lord have owned you for his servants, I believe that you would not be free again for the world. Let it appear, then, that you are pleased with your condition, by hating every false way, and walking in all his ordinances and command

.

ments blameless. While others are serving various sins, let it be seen that one is your Master, even Christ; and that you are his servants; not merely by profession, but by your attachment to his person, your conformity to his pattern, and your increasing zeal for his glory. Remember, that it is but little service you can render him at best, and that your time of labour will shortly be ended; for you shall rest from your labours, and your works shall follow you. Then you shall be welcomed into heaven, with that gracious, glorious declaration, which the most eminent and laborious Christian cannot hear

without astonishment and rapture; "Well done, good and faithful servant! Thou hast been faithful ever a few things; I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

DISCOURSE IX.

A MEDITATION ON

REV. II. 4.

Nevertheless, I have somewhat against thee.

"AGAINST me! dearest Saviour; somewhat against me! I hope not. I would not for the world knowingly offend thee. I cannot bear that frown; and especially at this time, when I had promised myself so much pleasure from this long expected interview. When I fondly hoped that I should have heard nothing from thee but good and comfortable words, thou meetest me with charges and accusations; and I almost fear to know what they are. But I would rather hear them now than hereafter: for, perhaps, when the wound is opened, thine eye may affect thy heart; thou mayest pity the infirmities of thy poor servant, and mercifully condescend to heal them."

Those who consult a physician for a weak and distempered body, think that they can never be particular enough in describing the nature, the cause, and the progress, of their disorder, and the minutest symptom which they can recollect. Let us now be equally explicit with our Divine Physician: Let us open our whole hearts to him; and beseech him to probe them deeper than we ourselves have the skill or the courage to do, and to tell us freely whatever

he finds amiss in our temper and conduct. We may be sure that he will do it with tenderness: and ifit be necessary that he should make our hearts bleed, he will kindly give us relief. Now then, gracious Lord, what is it which thou hast against us? We are conscious of many things amiss; but we wish to hear from thine own mouth, what it is that at this time is particularly displeasing to thee.

"Unto the angel of this church write these things, saith he which holdeth the seven stars in his right hand; who walketh in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks: I know thy works, and have been often well pleased with thy humble and holy obedience: nevertheless, I have somewhat against thee. I remember when nothing could divert thee from following hard after me. Then, though sinners enticed, though the world flattered or frowned, if I invited thee to attend on my ordinances, thou wouldst readily leave them all, and prefer an hour with me to an age spent in any other pursuit. But now I seldom hear from thee, and see but little of thee; and when I do, it is more in a way of ceremony, than with that freedom of friendship which passed between us formerly. It is but little that thou canst bear for me, or from me. A slight disappointment sours thy spirits; and makes thee speak or think hardly of me.' O, my soul, is not this too true?

Again, he

says, Nevertheless, I have somewhat against thee; because thou art careful and troubled about many things. Thy fears are greater than thy faith. Though thou mightest be sure, that he who feeds sparrows and ravens, will not suffer his children

to want, yet thou canst not rely upon his providence but art continually crying, Who will show us any good? Thou art inquiring, with as much anxiety as if thou hadst no friend on earth or in heaven, what shall I eat, or what shall I drink, or wherewithal shall I be clothed ?"

O my soul, is not this too true?

Again, the Lord says, "Nevertheless, I have somewhat against thee; because thou hast not that readinèss and cheerfulness, which I am pleased to see in every one of my servants. I observe thy punctuality in private and public duties, and thy care to keep thyself from all grosser offences: but I see with what luke-warmness all this is done; and how thy heart still hankers after the world."

O my soul, is not that also too true?

Indeed, there will be always, as the Apostle says, "a law of the members warring against the law of the mind." But God knows how it is with us, when the season of private duty beckons to us to retire. If our souls were in a prosperous condition, we should readily say to worldly business and pleasures, "Tarry ye here, while I go yonder, and worship at the altar of God. I have great and delightful work before me, and I will not on any account be disturbed." So it should be; but perhaps with many of us it is sadly different. When duty calls us to retire, we think, if we do not actually say, How unreasonable is this interruption! If I had not been obliged to attend to the devotions of the family or closet, I might have finished the business in which I was engaged; or I might have taken my rest or my pleasure."-So