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A STRANGE SEA.

of Tauler, he read the following passage: Lord, Thou seest to the bottom of all hearts, and understandest all thoughts. Thou knowest well how willingly I would give back into Thy hands a pure and heavenly soul. All I have, however, is this foul vessel, full of filth and temptation: such as it is, I offer it to Thee. If it were better, to Thee I would still give it. All I ask is, that Thou wouldst wash it with Thy pure blood, and so make it meet to receive Thy holy influence.

CXI.

A Strange Sea.

N another occasion, Gotthold remarked that the world is like a great ocean, on which, strange to say, most of the mariners suffer shipwreck in calm and pleasant weather; whereas the storms

and raging waves of trouble waft them to the haven of eternal bliss. Upon this ocean I too am steering my little bark. Be with me, O my God! and guide me to the wished-for shore. It will matter little then, whether I sailed in calm and sunshine, or through storms and tempests.

THE ENTERTAINMENT.

183

CXII.

The Entertainment.

OTTHOLD was invited to an entertainment, and had the hope held out that he would meet

with a friend whom he loved, and in whose

society he took the greatest delight. On joining the party, however, he learned that, owing to some unforeseen occurrence, this friend was not to be present, and felt too much chagrined to take any share in the hilarity. The circumstance afterwards led him into the following train of thought: The pious soul that sincerely loves and fervently longs for the Lord Jesus, experiences what I lately did. She seeks her Beloved in all places, objects, and events. If she find Him, who is happier? If she find Him not, who more disconsolate? Ah! Lord Jesus, Thou best of Friends! Thou art the object of my love; my soul seeketh Thee; my heart longeth after Thee. What care I for the world, with all its pleasures and pomps, its power and glory, unless I find Thee in it? What care I for the daintiest food, the sweetest drinks, and the merriest company, unless Thou art present, and unless I can dip my morsel in Thy wounds, sweeten my draught with Thy grace, and hear Thy pleasant words. Verily, my Saviour, were I even in heaven, and did not find Thee there, it

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THE FRUITFUL TREE.

would seem to me no heaven at all. Wherefore, Lord Jesus! when I seek Thee with tears, sighs, yearnings of heart, and patient hope, hide not Thyself from me, but suffer me to find Thee! For, Lord! whom have I in the heaven but Thee? and there is none upon the earth that I desire besides Thee. My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever.1

CXIII.

The Fruitful Tree.

ASSING a garden, Gotthold observed a pear-tree whose branches were bending to the ground, as if they would break with the weight of the fruit. On asking a friend, who was with him,

What do you think it is which this tree needs? he was answered: A prop or two to support the overloaded boughs. No, rejoined Gotthold, but hands to pluck, and baskets to contain the fruit. It presents to us a beautiful emblem of the Lord Jesus, our beloved Saviour. He needs me, and I Him; and so we suit each other. Nor think it strange when I say that the Lord Jesus needs me. I mean that He needs me

1 Psalm lxxiii. 25, 26.

as this tree does baskets, or as the widow's cruse, which God had blessed, needed empty vessels to hold the oil; or as the mother, whose breasts overflow, needs the child to suck the milk. Love constrains the Lord to seek me, as my wants do me to seek Him. He possesses all things-heaven, earth, and all which they contain; but these He does not need. What He needs is, souls and hearts, to replenish with His grace and Spirit, and bless with His salvation. O mighty love, tender compassion, and mercy of our Saviour! He, who needs nothing else, cannot do without sinful and wretched man.

CXIV.

The Harvest.

OWARDS the fall of the year, a party of friends were taking a walk in the vicinity of a town, when one of them began and said: Alas! how all things are now rushing, as if down hill, towards the cold and gloomy winter! We no longer hear the voice of a single bird. The lark

11 Kings xvi. 12.

mourns to see the grain mown down and carted away, and the fields left to it all naked and bare. To this Gotthold replied: The birds sing most in spring, and are silent in summer; and this, in my opinion, God has in His goodness ordained, in order that, while as yet we see the precious fruits of the earth only in their growth, and rejoice in them only in hope, the music of the feathered songsters may stir us up to praise Him. Afterwards, however, when we begin actually to enjoy His manifold bounties, and bear the precious grain in thousands of cartloads into our barns, the birds keep silence, as if they deemed it needless to remind us of our duty, because, amidst the profusion of the gifts, it was not possible to forget the Giver. Look around you, and on every hand you will see one load of grain carted away after another. Do you suppose that the bountiful Father who caused it to grow may hope to receive for each a hymn of praise and thanksgiving? And yet such a tribute is due to Him for every single ear, inasmuch as the whole combined skill and power of the human race could not, without His aid, have reared a single ear from the earth.

O holy God! would we but praise Thee, and love Thee, and live in obedience to Thy will, as long as Thou continuest Thy blessings to us, never would our hearts be empty of Thy love, our mouths of Thy praise, or our walk of Thy fear!