To thee I come, -ah, only thou
Canst wipe the sweat from off this brow;
Thou, only thou, canst make me whole,
And soothe the fever of my soul;

I cast my soul on thee,
Mighty to save even me,
Jesus, thou Son of God!

On thee I rest; thy love and grace
Are my sole rock and resting-place;
In thee, my thirst and hunger sore,
Lord, let me quench for evermore.
I cast my soul on thee,
Mighty to save even me,
Jesus, thou Son of God!

'Tis earth, not heaven! 'tis night, not noon;

The sorrowless is coming soon;

But till the morn of love appears,

Which ends the travail and the tears,

I cast my soul on thee,

Mighty to save even me,
Jesus, thou Son of God!

Aн, Jesus, why should I complain?
And why fear aught but sin?
Distractions are but outward things;
Thy peace dwells far within!

These surface-troubles come and go,
Like rufflings of the sea;

The deeper depth is out of reach
To all, my God, but thee!

FABER.

Down from the willow bough
My slumbering harp I'll take,
And bid its silent strings

To heavenly themes awake;-
Peaceful let its breathings be,
When I sing of Calvary.

Love, LOVE DIVINE, I sing;
Oh for a seraph's lyre,

Bathed in Siloa's stream,

And touched with living fire; Lofty, pure, the strain should be When I sing of Calvary.

Love, Love on earth appears!

The wretched throng his way;

He beareth all their griefs,

And wipes their tears away. Soft and sweet the strain should be, Saviour, when I sing of thee.

THOU precious head, with thorny crown, Since thou with us didst so unite

That all our grief became thine own;

Ah, we can never tell aright, –

Nay, scarcely even can believe

The strength we now from thee receive.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE SUPPER A WITNESS AGAINST SIN HUMILITY AND CONFESSION POETRY.

"Reckon ye yourselves to be dead indeed anto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.— Rom. 6:11.

HILE the Lord's Supper exhibits an infinite compassion for sinners, it also exhibits an infinite abhorrence of sin. This last aspect of the ordinance should never be obscured, lest the divine beneficence be "degraded into a reckless infinitude of mercy, a blind obliteration of sin; and so at length mercy itself be eclipsed, and all the glory of the cross vanish away. For if sin be not an infinite evil, if it be more a calamity than a crime, a misfortune than a fault, calling rather for pity than punishment, then where the tran

1 Ruskin. Modern Painters.

scendent grace of the gospel? Why did angels fly from their celestial homes to sing "good-will to men," over the plains of Bethlehem?

So far is the death of Christ, in its declaration of God's love, from weakening our sense of his justice, that it exhibits that justice as pouring out the vials of its wrath upon the head of the Substitute of guilty men. The Crucifixion is God's look of terrible indignation, the letting loose his awful thunderbolts, the unsheathing of the sword of justice and bathing it in blood. Sin is a tremendous fact, which no manifestation of pity on the part of God either can, or is designed to look out of sight, but which that pity, as breathed forth so sweetly on Calvary, stamps with the seal of a more terrible reprobation.

O Lamb of God! louder than Sinai's thunderings does thy meek and silent agony proclaim the exceeding sinfulness of sin.

With what profound humility and self-loathing should a believer partake of the memorials of that tremendous sacrifice, which at once declared the infinite guilt of his sin and relieved him of its crushing burden,- which reveals grace as reigning through righteousness unto eternal life, sparing