principles of duty forgotten-the boundary-lines between right and wrong blotted out-the practice of large numbers of those whom He saw and conversed with exhibiting a melancholy combination of impiety and hypocrisy, of grasping covetousness, and of hard-hearted oppression.-Yet, living in a world such as this, He was altogether untainted by it. No breath of unholy passion ever stirred the calm serenity of His mind. There was to be found the deepest spirit of reverence for God, and the warmest charity towards man-the perfect image of the Divine nature-unfailing delight in all that is true, and pure, and good. And from this source alone, how large were the supplies of inward joy! His bodily frame was indeed exposed to the same trials with our own. Homeless and friendless, and living the life of a wayfaring man among His own people and in His own world, He felt the cravings of nature, and welcomed the water of the well; but He fed, besides, on angels' food; and when some fresh portion was sent to Him from the heavenly banquet, we may well believe that He did not miss the earthly food which was tardily supplied by those around Him. He had "meat to eat,"-meat for the inner man, that they "knew not" and thought not "of."

Nor was this all. There was something special in his joys, arising out of His peculiar circumstances and office. There was not merely the repose and delight in God, springing from the holiness of His nature-from the spirit of entire submission to the Divine will-from a joyous confidence in the sympathy of the great family of delighted and adoring spirits around the throne. But, although the Son of man had humbled Himself to the infirmities of our nature, He stood on an elevation of His own. How magnificent was the office committed to Him; to bear, from the bosom of His Father, a message of peace to a lost world; to subdue to the authority of God a revolted province of His empire; as Mediator to pass between God and His creatures; to lift the veil between heaven and earth; to cheer the anxious enquirer with some glimpses of the "excellent glory" behind it; to bind up the broken heart. His was also the privilege to know that the happiness thus bestowed upon one penitent was but a drop from the river of joy which was to stream forth from the Cross over the face of the world-all these were pleasures and triumphs which the world could not share, nor even adequately conceive. To Him these sources of joy were always open. It was thus that

the conversation at Jacob's well had been to Him a feast. The time of His disciples' absence was no time of weary expectation. He had found a lost sinner, filled with the prejudice of her nation, debased in practice; and a few striking and appropriate words had sufficed to arrest her attention, to pierce her conscience, and to light up the dawn of a brighter day on her darkened mind. He had announced Himself to be the Messiah, whom she, amid all her infirmities and errors, was confidently expecting; and already had she departed from His presence to

bear these glad tidings to her countrymen. And, thus occupied, He could say to His disciples, on their return, "I have meat to eat that ye know not of."

But if this language, thus, in a peculiar sense, belongs to our Lord, it will be found to bear also on ourselves. Indeed, it applies to all who love and serve Him. God has a people upon earth, scattered through many lands, and known by this mark, that they are devoted to Him both in heart and in life. The blood of Christ has cleansed them from guilt. His Spirit has given them that wisdom, for lack of which the world becomes mad in its follies, and gives its worship to idols. They fight under His banner against enemies, seen and unseen. Their aim is, while they serve their generation, and "maintain a conscience void of offence toward God and toward men," to "press towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." These men, wherever found, have "meat to eat" that the world "knows not of." They have, indeed, their share both of the sorrows and pleasures of life; and find, with the world at large, that, in this chequered scene, "there is a time to weep, and a time to laugh." But, beyond what they possess in common with the rest of mankind, there are fountains of joy which, though sealed to others, are ever open to them.

There is, for example, a state of settled peace with God· their confidence in Him as a Father- the bright anticipation of that glorious inheritance which awaits them in their final home. They may sometimes speak of this happiness, as opportunity is given, or as duty may call them, to shame the self-confident, or to encourage the weak disciple. But their purest and fullest joys are too deep for utterance. They cannot describe, if they would, the stillness of the repose which springs from a settled conviction that God is on their side, and that they have a part in His promises, because Christ has suffered for their sins, and has covered them with the robe of His righteousness. Who can exhibit, in its true colours and just proportions, the joy which springs from union and communion with God in Christ. When we have done our best to set forth this happiness, assuring men of its reality, and imploring them to seek it for their own, some will continue perversely to mistake our meaning, and others will deem us little better than dreaming enthusiasts. Cavil at it, however, as they will, it is, notwithstanding, true, that Christ purchased for His followers, and bequeathed to them, a "peace which passeth all understanding.' And often, when others, like our Lord's disciples on this occasion, are busy in the market, searching for what seems necessary to their worldly comfort-and, like them, wonder to see the people of God fresh for labour, and patient under privations-they can declare, with the utmost sincerity, "We have 'meat to eat that ye know not of;"" their souls are safe in His keeping; and, with this conviction, no way is long, no

task is burdensome, but every step of their pilgrimage is bright with the shining of " the Sun of Righteousness."

Again; among the hidden joys of the people of God, are their secret victories over sin and the world. Their life is, no doubt, a conflict, and must remain so while sin lurks within, and Satan and his host are busy all around. The apostle did not speak at random, but rather described stern realities, and selected figures most significant and appropriate to the condition of man, when he called upon his fellow Christians to "fight the good fight of faith;" to "take unto them the whole armour of God;" to "watch," and "quit themselves like men;" to be "strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might." But then the battlefield is not in some place of concourse where witnesses look on, and shout for one party or the other. The conflict is not that of the armed warrior, "with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood." The secret chamber, or the innermost recesses of the heart, are the field in which the enemy is met and foiled, and where many a blessed triumph is won by many a weakly saint. If pride, for example, has had long possession of the soul, but at length the hand of the Lord has cast it out if, forgetting our pilgrim character, we have coveted the baubles of the world, but have at length sought and received power to overcome the world — if, in some angry collision of interests or conflict of words with an offending neighbour, we have harboured angry feelings and have maintained a cold demeanour and stately reserve towards him, but have at length forgiven him as we hope to be forgiven ourselves-if, in the hour of adversity, we have been tempted to murmur against God, but have now learned to praise Him-or if, in the hour of prosperity, we had forgotten the source of our happiness, but have now remembered ourselves and given glory to God—in all these cases a victory is won, a thousand times more important and illustrious than any of those which are chronicled in this world's history; and, in the winning of these triumphs, there is a joy which none can conceive but those who are the subjects of it. Silently is the work accomplished; and it has no record but in the Book of God, and in the heart of the believer. He may part from one friend as he enters his secret chamber, and may meet another as he issues from it, and neither shall know that anything more than common has been transacted within; but, in reality, these are the incidents in human existence which ennoble life, and exalt it to something better than busy trifling, or wearing drudgery, and petty vexations and sorrows. Let others revel at their feasts, and flit gaily from one haunt of dissipation to another; let them dream, in their folly, that the saints, as they opprobriously call them, are mere anchorites, leading a forced and unnatural existence, foolishly refusing what in their hearts they long for;-such men, despised by some, suspected by others, treated as aliens sometimes by those who should

be nearest friends, have "meat to eat" that the scoffers "know not of." They dwell in green pastures, and beside living fountains of water, large and deep enough to slake the thirst of all the children of men.

Again; we may notice the supports and consolations granted to the servants of God in the dark seasons of affliction. Listen to one of their number, no common sufferer,-called to endure, through a succession of years, almost immeasurable trials. "Troubled (he says) on every side, yet not distressed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed." It is a noble picture of a man, sustained by an undying principle, rising above the visible circumstances of his condition-like a rock, on whose summit the sun shines, while the waves are roaring at its base-living, and subduing every enemy, by the power of faith. And such is the strengthening and animating power of the Spirit of God in the hearts of all His people. They are tried like others, and sometimes even more than others; but there is this distinction between them and an unthinking crowd-that they know from whom their troubles come, and to what they tend. "It is the Lord," they exclaim, with one of His people; "let Him do what seemeth Him good." "Wherefore doth a living man complain," they ask with another, "a man for the punishment of his sins?" Nor is this all. They rise still higher. It is little to say they bear what God appoints. From this there is no escape. Even the ungodly may employ, in their best times, fair-sounding expressions of submission to the will of God. But it is especially in times of sickness, sorrow, and bereavement, the true and spiritual Christian hath "meat to eat" that the world "knows not of." May we remember this, and make haste to provide against that day of trouble, from which we can scarcely expect long to escape. It may so press upon us, that this may be the last day of our own health or prosperity. Those may stand now by our side with whom we think it would be impossible to part, and yet a moment may separate us. Our best treasure may be scattered by a storm, of which, as yet, we see no indication. The man, therefore, who is really wise for his own safety and peace, will have a near haven to flee to when the tempest comes down in its fury. He will make for the "stronghold" now, that his happiness may not be a wreck then. If he be "Christ's"-living on the promises of Scripture-"walking in the Spirit"-serving God faithfully in the Gospel of His dear Son-all is well, all will be well, and must be well throughout eternity. But woe to that man's hope, who has to pass through deep waters-to give up his cherished idols; to endure the sharp agony, or the slow wasting of disease; to face the King of Terrors suddenly; or who has but a brief interval of interrupted and troubled consciousness between unbroken health and the last stage of life, with no better stay than that which props up the head of the worldling. But, once more: let us look at the servant of God as he ap

proaches to God in prayer. Here also he has "meat to eat" that the world "knows not of." The men of the world may not live altogether without what they call prayer. They may even allow no morning to dawn, and no night to seal their eyes in slumber, without some brief acknowledgment of the Divine goodness, and some cries, though few and cold, for mercy to forgive, and for grace to cleanse them. But "themselves being witnesses," it is but a forced tribute. Such prayer may reconcile them to themselves; but it brings them no nearer to God. It is the result of fear or custom; but not the free, outspoken communication of friend with friend; and, therefore, it lightens none of their burdens charms away none of their anxieties makes no path of duty clearer, and no task of endurance lighter. The lesson of prayer they may have been taught in childhood, and they may not absolutely have forgotten it;-but the power of prayer to compose the spirit-to nerve them for duty-to strengthen them against numbers when conscience calls them to the conflict-to enable them to endure, as "seeing Him who is invisible"-of all this they are ignorant. But the servants of God are not strangers to this power of prayer; and habitually do they put it to the test, and profit from it. They ask for peace in the inner man, and God gives them peace. They pray for help against temptation, and they find it. They pray again and again for victory over their besetting sins; and again and again they triumph. They crave more light, more spiritual discernment, more readiness to apprehend the will of God in all the details of duty; they carry their wants to the throne of grace, and become more matured in grace and holiness. Where so much is given, they become bold in asking;-they scek, above all things, to have the image of Christ formed in them; and, in answer to their supplication, they are changed into His image, and become not only "witnesses unto" Christ, but "epistles of Christ, known and read of all men." In all this, surely they "have meat to eat" which the world "knows not of;" and which it never can know, till it learns to draw nigh to God, not only with the lips, but with the heart.

The subject, thus briefly treated, obviously admits of much enlargement. I shall be satisfied if I have merely opened the way for a more cxtended contemplation of it in the light of the Sacred Scriptures; and if I have prompted any disconsolate heart to search after that "hidden manna " with which the Great Father delights to feed His people in the wilderness of G.

life.

GRATIFIED WISHES OFTEN REAL CURSES.

THE Israelites had advanced a considerable distance into the wilderness. Nothing, it might be thought, could be more favourable than their circumstances. Fed, guided, and guarded by the hand of the Lord; the glorious symbols of the Divine Presence