of Jerusalem; tried every means, and hoped to force the waters of spiritual consolation again to flow; but ah,' I sought, but found him not.'

We had resource to heart-stirring, beautifully spiritual books, which we allowed to preach to us, in the hope thus to obtain relief, and to re-animate our stagnant feelings. But, alas! the books seem stale and insipid, and left us as we were, dull and cheerless. We sought, but found not. We hastened to the assemblies of the saints, where the love of Christ was joyfully proclaimed; where his praises resounded in spiritual songs, and fervent prayers ascended to heaven; here we expected a joyful spirit would again possess us, that our hearts would melt, and our tongues be loosened. But we sought and found not. While the eloquence of others flowed like living waters, and their prayers were ardent, we were speechless, or uttered empty words ; they spread the wings of devotion, and soared on high; we too essayed to rise, but we had no wings to spread. We forced ourselves to sing, but the song died upon our lips, unresponded by our hearts. We sought, but found not. We eagerly thronged to whatever was solemn and sublime, hoping that there our icy hearts would melt again; and there we should again taste that joy, which is eternal, at the right hand of God. But it was and remained night; and it seemed as if no spring would succeed the winter in our souls. We sought, but found not. We wearied ourselves in the streets of Jerusalem, and fatigued our friends with our complaints; we re sorted to every expedient to refresh and invigorate our hearts; but we had still to complain with the Bride:

'I sought, but found him not.' The Bride meets with the watchmen who go about the city. The watchmen -who are they? We, the ambassadors for Christ, whose business. it is to go about Jerusalem; to watch for the safety of the city; to arouse those found slumbering in burning houses, and on the edge of precipices; to conduct those walking in their sleep from the dangerous rocks on which they climb; to warn those who stray · from the path of life, and comfort those who sit solitary and weep; to encourage those who lie breathless in the streets unable to proceed. Yes, the watchmen are the Stewards over God's mysteries. To them the Bride

came, and addressed the inquiry: 'Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?'. Amongst them she expected certainly to find what she sought; but even this last hope deceiy-. ed her. Here too she was constrained to exclaim: "I sought; but found him not.' Exhortation, counsel, and instruction enough; but no life, no joy, no interest in the Lord and his cause, nothing of that which she desired. She had now wearied herself in the streets of Jerusalem, had tried every thing; but still she remains, and complains, "I sought, but found him not."

IV. It would now seem as if the Bride were for ever cut off from all salvation; and yet her salvation was never so near as at this moment. She had now reached the point of connection and union with Christ, which is eternal. She had made great efforts to rekindle her love for Christ, his kingdom, and his cause, but all in vain; and even amongst the watchmen who go about the city, she had not recovered what she had lost.

Lifeless as she had come to them, had she again departed. And as she proceeded a little onward, thereWell, what happened there? There, methinks she first paused, communicating with her disconsolate heart, and felt, for the first time in her life, with the full clearness and force of truth, the worthlessness of man and all his acts, and that sin hath sunk him into the most abject helplessness. Nay, that so deplorable is his state, and he is so inwardly dead, that, of himself, he is incapable of gratitude towards the greatest of all benefactors, the most faithful of all friends; that he cannot even open his mouth in praise and thankfulness to him, who, beyond all in heaven and on earth, is worthy to receive glory and honor, thanksgiving and praise; that of himself he is unable to rejoice in the greatest blessings, or elevate his heart in prayer to God; that he cannot excite in himself any desire after the Lord and his benefits; and that even the best adapted means are insufficient to dissolve his rocky heart in devotion, love, and holy joy. This she had never dreamt! Indeed how could it have occurred to her, that human nature was so debased? But now experience had opened her eyes to behold, for the first time, its complete corruption; to perceive, that the natural life was in reality death, and not life, now for the first time she felt how deep her fall, how weak and barren her life and will, how great her ruin, and need of help. Hitherto she had desired from her Bridegroom nothing but kindness, pleasure, and refreshment: now she requires a surety to appear for her, a mediator to undertake for her, an intercessor to plead for her before the judgment seat, a renovator

to mould her into something on which the eye of God might rest with delight. All this she found in him, who had till now been nothing more to her than a beloved friend, that had cheered her life and rejoiced her heart; but now how infinitely precious had he become. When she had passed on a little, she exclaims; 'I found him whom my soul loveth!'

Was it not the same with us? At first we, too, attached ourselves to the Lord, more for the delight we had in him and in his words, than because without him we felt ourselves to be eternally lost. But this was a slender attachment, a feeble love; transient as the pleasurable emotions which called them forth. When they vanished, and the table at which we had been regaled, was removed, then, alas! we fell away from Christ, and could deny him ten times in a breath, and in various ways. But when enlightened by the Spirit, we knew ourselves as lost, as ruined creatures, and were enabled to discover in Christ a Savior, whose hand alone could snatch us from eternal flames, our attachment to and our connection with him assumed a new and very different character.

I hold him, the Bride joyfully exclaims, and will not let him go. And why will she not let him go? Because he fills her heart with joy, and is the source of many delights. The Bride, if in our midst, would reply; Though he left me to languish, and suffered me not to taste of his loveliness, I hold him, and will not let him go, because I know that he alone can save me from eternal death. I hold him, and will not let him go.' Why not? Because he sweetens her life, and

richly provides for all her necessities? Oh no, oh no, she would reply; though he gave me gall to drink in this life, I know that he alone can conduct me safely through the gloomy portals of eternity, and the fiery scrutiny of the last judgment: therefore I hold him, and will not let him go. 'I hold him, and will not let him go.' And why not? Because he can help her to attain that righteousness which is approved before God. Help, the Bride would exclaim: I cannot furnish any thing to adorn myself for the great wedding? He must, and he alone can, clothe me in the garments of salvation, in which to appear before God. Therefore I hold him, and will not let him go, but surrender myself entirely into his hands. I hold him, and will not let him go,' she exultingly exclaims or rather the Spirit within her till I have brought him into my mother's house.' What are we, then, to understand by her mother's house? Paul says, (Gal. iv. 26,) 'But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the mother of us all." There she will bring her Surety, and there be brought by him. Now, beloved, we behold a soul by the grace and guidance of the Lord, united to Christ; not as formerly, by a sense of the abundance of joy which is derived from him, but by a feeling of its poverty and great misery; not by the experience, 'It is good to be here,' but by the thorough conviction that without him hell, death, and ruin are its portion. It recognizes in him now, not merely a Comforter, but a Savior; and, conscious of its own frailty, it no longer hopes for eternal life as the reward of love to the Lord, or leans on its pious emotions; but it rests exclusively