eye have our hearts in such a state as to be led thereby to look up to Him, and to desire His to be upon us through the day? It is the feeling which, in the case of holy men, follows the contemplation of Almighty God. But, again, this sense of God's presence is not only the ground of the peace of a good conscience, but of the peace of repentance also. At first sight it might seem strange how repentance can have in it any thing of comfort and peace. The Gospel, indeed, promises to turn all sorrow into joy. It makes us take pleasure in desolateness, weakness, and contempt. "We glory in tribulations also," says the Apostle, "because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us." It destroys anxiety: "Take no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself." It bids us take comfort under bereavement: "I would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope" (Rom. v. 3, 5; Matt. vi. 34; 1 Thess. iv. 13). But if there be one sorrow which might seem to be unmixed misery, if there be one misery left under the Gospel, the awakened sense of having abused the Gospel might have been considered that one. And, again, if there be a time when the presence of the Most High would at first sight seem intolerable, it would be then when the consciousness vividly burst upon us that we had ungratefully rebelled against Him. Yet so it is that true repentance cannot be without the thought of God; it has the thought of God, for it seeks Him; and it seeks Him because it is quickened with love; and even sorrow must have a sweetness, if love be in it. For what is it to repent, but to surrender ourselves to God for pardon or punishment; as loving His presence for its own sake, and accounting chastisement from Him better than rest and peace from the world? While the prodigal son remained among the swine, he had sorrow enough, but no repentance, remorse only; but repentance led him to rise and go to his father, and to confess his sins. Or, again, consider St. Paul's account of the repentance of the Corinthians; there is sorrow in abundance, nay anguish, but no gloom, no dryness of spirit, no sternness. The penitents afflict themselves, but it is from the fulness of their hearts, from love, gratitude, devotion, horror of the past, desire to escape from their present selves into some state holier or more heavenly. St. Paul speaks of their "earnest desire, their mourning, their fervent mind towards him." He rejoices, "not that they were made sorry, but that they sorrowed to repentance." "For ye were made sorry," he proceeds," after a godly manner, that ye might receive damage by us in nothing." And he describes this " sorrowing after a godly sort" to consist in "carefulness, which it wrought in them," "clearing of themselves," "indignation," "fear," "vehement desire," " zeal," 66 revenge" (2 Cor. vii. 7, 9, 11); feelings, all of them, which open the heart, but end in acts or works. On the other hand, remorse, or what the Apostle calls "the sorrow of the world," worketh death. us. Instead of coming to the Fount of life, to the God of all consolation, remorseful men feed on their own thoughts. They disburden themselves to no one; to God they will not, to the world they cannot confess. The world will not attend to their confession; it cannot approach or stand by us in trouble; it leaves all our feelings buried within Such is our state while we live to the world, whether we be in sorrow or in joy. We do not know, perhaps, what or where our pain is; we are so used to it that we do not call it pain. Still so it is we need a relief to our hearts, that they may be dark and sullen no longer, or that they may not go on feeding upon themselves; we need to escape from ourselves to something beyond; and much as we may wish it otherwise, and may try to make idols to ourselves, nothing short of God's Presence is our true refuge. Life passes, riches fly away, the senses decay, the world changes, friends die. One alone is constant-One alone is true to us-One alone can be true-One alone can be all things to us-One alone can supply all our needs-One alone can form and possess us. Are we allowed to put ourselves under His guidance? Has He really made us His children, and taken possession of us by His Holy Spirit? Are we still in His kingdom of grace, in spite of our sins? The question surely is not, whether we should go, but whether He will receive us. And we trust that, in spite of our sins, He will receive us still, every one of us, if we seek His face in love unfeigned and holy fear. Let us, then, do our part, as He has done His, and much more. Let us say with the Psalm ist, "Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth I desire in comparison of Thee. My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever” (Ps. lxxiii. 25, 26). Sweet dove! the softest, steadiest plume Sweet leaf! the pledge of peace and mirth, Long sought, and lately won; When first it felt the sun. Sweet rainbow! pride of summer days, Dear tokens of a pardoning God, As when our fathers walked abroad, Freed from their twelvemonth's thrall. And what most welcome and serene What but the gentle rainbow's gleam, That cannot bear the solar beam, With soft undazzling light? Lord, if our fathers turn'd to Thee With such adoring gaze, Wondering frail man Thy light should see N Where is our love, and where our hearts, Services for the Sunday called Quinquagesima, or the Sunday next before Lent. Morning Lesson, Genesis ix. 1-20. The Collect.-O Lord, Who hast taught us that all our doings without charity are nothing worth; send Thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace and of all virtues, without which whosoever liveth is counted dead before Thee: grant this for Thine only Son Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. Already called and urged to the exercise of repentance, and about to enter upon the penitential mortifications of Lent, the Church most wisely presses upon our minds the divine virtue of charity-love to God for Himself, and to all men for His sake. Love lightens labour, and makes suffering itself sweet, for the sake of the beloved. Love fulfils the whole law, and all duty springs from it, and may be reduced to it. For this holy and happy temper of mind, we earnestly pray in the Collect, from the Divine Spirit, by whom the love of God is shed abroad in our |