5 Knowledge, and zeal, and gifts, and talk, Unless combin'd with faith and love, And witness'd by a gospel-walk, Will not a true profession prove. 6 Without the fruit the Lord expects, Knowledge will make our state the worse; The barren trees he still rejects,

And soon will blast them with his curse. 7 O Lord, unite our hearts in prayer! On each of us thy Spirit send, That we the fruits of grace may bear, And find acceptance in the end.

LUKE.

HYMN XCVIII.

The two Debtors. Chap. viii. 47. 1 ONCE a woman silent stood,

While Jesus sat at meat;
From her eyes she pour'd a flood,

To wash his sacred feet;
Shame and wonder, joy and love,

All at once possess'd her mind,
That she e'er so vile could prove,
Yet now forgiveness find.

2 "How came this vile woman here?
Will Jesus notice such?
Sure, if he a prophet were,

He would disdain her touch!"
Simon thus, with scornful heart,
Slighted one whom Jesus lov'd;
But her Saviour took her part,
And thus his pride reprov'd:

3 "If two men in debt were bound,
One less, the other more,
Fifty, or five hundred pound,

And both alike were poor:
Should the lender both forgive,

When he saw them both distress'd,
Which of them would you believe
Engag'd to love him best?"

4 "Surely he who most did owe,"
The Pharisee replied:
Then our Lord, "By judging so,
Thou dost for her decide;
Simon, if, like her, you knew

How much you forgiveness need;
You like her had acted too,

And welcom'd me indeed.

5 "When the load of sin is felt,

And much forgiveness known,
Then the heart of course will melt,

Though hard before as stone:
Blame not then her love and tears,
Greatly she in debt has been;
But I have remov'd her fears,
And pardon'd all her sin."

6 When I read this woman's case,
Her love and humble zeal,
I confess, with shame of face,
My heart is made of steel.

Much has been forgiven to me, Jesus paid my heavy score; What a creature must I be, That I can love no more!

HYMN XCIX.

The good Samaritan. Chap. x. 33-35. 1 How kind the good Samaritan To him who fell among the thieves! Thus Jesus pities fallen man,

And heels the wounds the soul receives.

2 Oh! I remember well the day,
When sorely wounded, nearly slain,
Like that poor man I bleeding lay,
And groan'd for help, but groan'd in vain.
3 Men saw me in this helpless case,
And pass'd without compassion by;
Each neighbour turn'd away his face,
Unmoved by my mournful cry.

4 But he whose name had been my scorn,
(As Jews Samaritans despise)
Came, when he saw me thus forlorn,
With love and pity in his eyes.

5 Gently he rais'd me from the ground,
Press'd me to lean upon his arm,
And into every gaping wound,
He pour'd his own all-healing balm.
6 Into his church my steps he led,
The house prepar'd for sinners lost,
Gave charge I should be cloth'd and fed,
And took upon him all the cost.

7 Thus sav'd from death, from want secur'd
I wait till he again shall come,
(When I shall be completely cur'd)
And take me to his heavenly home.

8 There, through eternal boundless days,
When nature's wheel no longer rolls,
How shall I love, adore, and praise,
This good Samaritan to souls!

HYMN C.

Martha and Mary. Chap. x. 38-42.
1 MARTHA her love and joy express'd,
By care to entertain her guest;
While Mary sat to hear her Lord,
And could not bear to lose a word.
2 The principle, in both the same,
Produc'd in each a different aim;
The one to feast the Lord was led,
The other waited to be fed.

3 But Mary chose the better part,
The Saviour's words refresh'd her heart;
While busy Martha angry grew,
And lost her time and temper too.

4 With warmth she to her sister spoke,
But brought upon herself rebuke:
"One thing is needful, and but one,
Why do thy thoughts on many run?"

5 How oft are we, like Martha, vex'd,
Encumber'd, hurried, and perplex'd?
While trifles so engross our thought
The one thing needful is forgot.

6 Lord, teach us this one thing to choose, Which they who gain can never lose; Sufficient in itself alone,

And needful, were the world our own. 7 Let grov'lling hearts the world admire, Thy love is all that I require: Gladly I may the rest resign,

If the one needful thing be mine!

HYMN CI.

The Heart taken. Chap. xi. 21, 22. 1 THE castle of the human heart, Strong in its native sin,

Is guarded well in every part,
By him who dwells within.

2 For Satan there in arms resides,
And calls the place his own:
With care against assaults provides,
And rules as on a throne.

3 Each traitor thought, on him as chief, In blind obedience waits;

And pride, self-will, and unbelief,
Are posted at the gates.

4 Thus Satan for a season reigns,

And keeps his goods in peace;

The soul is pleas'd to wear his chains,
Nor wishes a release.

5 But Jesus, stronger far than he,
In his appointed hour,
Appears to set his people free

From the usurper's power.

6 "This heart I bought with blood," he says, "And now it shall be mine:"

His voice the strong one arm'd dismays,
He knows he must resign.

7 In spite of unbelief and pride,

And self and Satan's art,
The gates of brass fly open wide,
And Jesus wins the heart.

8 The rebel soul that once withstood
The Saviour's kindest call,
Rejoices now, by grace subdued,
To serve him with her all.

And who shall then the stores possess,
Which thou hast call'd thine own?"

4 Thus blinded mortals fondly scheme For happiness below;

Till death disturbs the pleasing dream,
And they awake to woe.

5 Ah! who can speak the vast dismay
That fills the sinner's mind,

When, torn by death's strong hand away,
He leaves his all behind!

6 Wretches, who cleave to earthly things, But are not rich to God,

Their dying hour is full of stings,
And hell their dark abode.

7 Dear Saviour, make us timely wise,
Thy gospel to attend,

That we may live above the skies,
When this poor life shall end.

HYMN CIII.

The barren Fig-Tree. Chap. xiii. 6—9.
1 THE church a garden is,
In which believers stand,
Like ornamental trees

Planted by God's own hand;
His Spirit waters all their roots,
And ev'ry branch abounds with fruits.
2 But other trees there are,
In this inclosure grow,
Which, though they promise fair,
Have only leaves to show;
No fruits of grace are on them found,
They stand but cumb'rers of the ground.
3 The under gard'ner grieves,

In vain his strength he spends,
For heaps of useless leaves
Afford him small amends:

He hears the Lord his will make known,
To cut the barren fig-trees down.

4 How difficult his post,
What pangs his bowels move,
To find his wishes cross'd,
His labours useless prove!
His last relief, his earnest prayer,
"Lord, spare them yet another year:
5 Spare them, and let me try,
What farther means may do;
I'll fresh manure apply,
My digging I'll renew;

Who knows but yet they fruit may yield! If not-'tis just they must be fell'd."

6 If under means of grace No gracious fruits appear, It is a dreadful case;

Though God may long forbear,

At length he 'll strike the threaten'd blow,* And lay the barren fig-tree low.

* Book II. Hymn xxvi.

HYMN CIV.

The Prodigal Son. Chap. xv. 11-24.

1 AFFLICTIONS, though they seem severe, In mercy oft are sent;

They stopp'd the prodigal's career,
And forc'd him to repent.
2 Although he no relentings felt,
Till he had spent his store;
His stubborn heart began to melt
When famine pinch'd him sore.

3 "What have I gain'd by sin (he said,)
But hunger, shame, and fear?
My father's house abounds with bread,
While I am starving here.

4 "I'll go and tell him all I 've done,
And fall before his face;
Unworthy to be call'd his son,
I'll seek a servant's place."

5 His father saw him coming back,

He saw, and ran, and smiled;

And threw his arms around the neck
Of his rebellious child.

6 "Father, I've sinn'd-but, O forgive!"
"I've heard enough," he said;
"Rejoice, my house, my son's alive,
For whom I mourn'd as dead:

7 Now let the fatted calf be slain,

And spread the news around;
My son was dead, but lives again,
Was lost, but now is found."

8 'Tis thus the Lord his love reveals,
To call poor sinners home;
More than a father's love he feels,
And welcomes all that come.

HYMN CV.

The Rich Man and Lazarus.
Chap. xvi. 19-25.

1 A WORLDLING spent each day
In luxury and state,
While a believer lay

A beggar at his gate:

Think not the Lord's appointment strange,
Death made a great and lasting change.

2 Death brought the saint release
From want, disease, and scorn;
And to the land of peace,
His soul, by angels borne,

In Abrah'm's bosom safely placed,
Enjoys an everlasting feast.

3 The rich man also died,
And in a moment fell
From all his pomp and pride
Into the flames of hell;

The beggar's bliss from far beheld,
His soul with double anguish fill'd.
4 “O Abrah❜m, send,” he cries,
(But his request was vain),
"The beggar from the skies,
To mitigate my pain!

One drop of water I entreat,

To soothe my tongue's tormenting heat."
5 Let all who worldly pelf
And worldly spirits have,
Observe, each for himself,
The answer Abrah'm gave:
"Remember thou wast fill'd with good,
While the poor beggar pin'd for food.
6 "Neglected at thy door,

With tears he begg'd his bread:
But now he weeps no more,
His griefs and pains are fled;
His joys eternally will flow,
While thine expire in endless woe."
7 Lord, make us truly wise,
To choose thy people's lot,
And earthly joys despise,
Which soon will be forgot:
The greatest evil we can fear,
Is to possess our portion here!

HYMN CVI.

The importunate Widow.* Chap. xviii. 1—7.
1 OUR Lord, who knows full well
The heart of every saint,
Invites us by a parable,

To pray and never faint.

2 He bows his gracious ear,
We never plead in vain;
Yet we must wait till he appear,
And pray, and pray again.
3 Though unbelief suggest,

Why should we longer wait?
He bids us never give him rest,
But be importunate.

4 'Twas thus a widow poor,

Without support or friend, Beset the unjust judge's door, And gain'd at last her end.

5 For her he little car'd,

As little for the laws;
Nor God nor man did he regard,
Yet he espous'd her cause.

6 She urg'd him day and night,

Would no denial take;

At length he said, "I'll do her right,
For my own quiet's sake."

7 And shall not Jesus hear

His chosen when they cry?
Yes, though he may a while forbear,
He'll help them from on high.

8 "Tis nature, truth, and love,

Engage him on their side;

When they are griev'd, his bowels move, And can they be denied?

9 Then let us earnest be,

And never faint in prayer;

He loves our importunity,
And makes our cause his care.

* Book II. Hymn lx.

HYMN CVII.

Zaccheus. Chap. xix. 1-6.
1 ZACCHEUS climb'd the tree,
And thought himself unknown;
But how surpris'd was he,

When Jesus call'd him down!
The Lord beheld him, though conceal'd,
And by a word his power reveal'd.

2 Wonder and joy at once Were painted in his face: "Does he my name pronounce, And does he know my case? Will Jesus deign with me to dine? Lord, I, with all I have, am thine." 3 Thus where the gospel's preach'd, And sinners come to hear, The hearts of some are reach'd Before they are aware:

The word directly speaks to them, And seems to point them out by name.

4 "Tis curiosity

Oft brings them in the way,
Only the man to see,

And hear what he can say:
But how the sinner starts to find,
The preacher knows his inmost mind.

5 His long forgotten faults

Are brought again in view,
And all his secret thoughts
Reveal'd in public too;
Though compass'd with a crowd about,
The searching word has found him out.

6 While thus distressing pain
And sorrow fills his heart:
He hears a voice again,
That bids his fears depart.
Then, like Zaccheus, he is blest,
And Jesus deigns to be his guest.

HYMN CVIII.

The Believer's Danger, Safety, and Duty. Chap. xxii. 31, 32.

1 "SIMON, beware!" the Saviour said,

66

Satan, your subtle foe,

Already has his measures laid,

Your soul to overthrow.

2 "He wants to sift you all as wheat,

And thinks his victory sure;
But I his malice will defeat,
My prayer shall faith secure."
3 Believers, tremble and rejoice,

Your help and danger view;
This warning has to you a voice,
This promise speaks to you.
4 Satan beholds, with jealous eye,
Your privilege and joy;
He's always watchful, always nigh,
To tear and to destroy.

5 But Jesus lives to intercede,
That faith may still prevail;
He will support in time of need,
And Satan's art shall fail.

3 Through love of sin, we long were prone To act as Satan bid;

But now, with grief and shame we own
We knew not what we did.

4 We knew not the desert of sin,
Nor whom we thus defied;

Nor where our guilty souls had been,
If Jesus had not died.

5 We knew not what a law we broke,
How holy, just, and pure!
Nor what a God we durst provoke,
But thought ourselves secure.

6 But Jesus all our guilt foresaw,
And shed his precious blood,
To satisfy the holy law,

And make our peace with God. 7 My sin, dear Saviour, made thee bleed, Yet didst thou pray for me!

I knew not what I did indeed,
When ignorant of thee.

HYMN CX.

The two Malefactors. Chap. xxiii. 39-43.
1 SOVEREIGN grace has power alone
To subdue a heart of stone;
And the moment grace is felt,
Then the hardest heart will melt.
2 When the Lord was crucified,
Two transgressors with him died;
One with vile blaspheming tongue,
Scoff'd at Jesus as he hung.

3 Thus he spent his wicked breath,
In the very jaws of death;
Perish'd as too many do,

With the Saviour in his view.
4 But the other, touch'd with grace,
Saw the danger of his case;
Faith receiv'd to own the Lord,
Whom the scribes and priests abhorr'd.

* Psalm cxxvii. 1.

To save thy dear-bought flock from hell!
Like a poor traveller, see him sit,
Athirst and weary, by the well.

2 The woman who for water came,

(What great events on small depend !) Then learnt the glory of his name, The well of life, the sinner's friend.

3 Taught from her birth to hate the Jews,
And fill'd with party-pride, at first
Her zeal induc'd her to refuse
Water to quench the Saviour's thirst.
4 But soon she knew the gift of God;
And Jesus, whom she scorn'd before,
Unask'd, that drink on her bestowed,
Which whoso tastes shall thirst no more.
5 His words her prejudice remov'd,

Her sin she felt, relief she found;
She saw and heard, believ'd and lov'd,
And ran to tell her neighbours round.
6 O come, this wondrous man behold,
The promis'd Saviour! this is he
Whom ancient prophecies foretold,
Born, from our guilt to set us free.
7 Like her, in ignorance content,
I worshipp'd long I knew not what;
Like her, on other things intent,
I found him when I sought him not.
8 He told me all that e'er I did,

1

And told me all was pardon'd too;
And now, like her, as he has bid,
I live to point him out to you.

HYMN CXII.

The Pool of Bethesda.* Chap. v. 2-4. BESIDE the gospel-pool

Appointed for the poor,

From year to year my helpless soul

Has waited for a cure.

How often have I thought,

6

But whither can I go?

Why should I longer lie?

Is not for such as I.

There is no other pool

To make a sinner whole.

Surely the mercy I have sought

Where streams of sovereign virtue flow,

7

Here then, from day to day,

I'll wait, and hope, and try:

8

Can Jesus hear a sinner pray,

Yet suffer him to die?

1 HERE at Bethesda's pool, the poor,
The wither'd, halt, and blind,
With waiting hearts expect a cure,
And free admittance find.

2 Here streams of wondrous virtue flow,
To heal a sin-sick soul;

To wash the filthy white as snow

And make the wounded whole.

3 The dumb break forth in songs of praise,
The blind their sight receive,
The cripple run in wisdom's ways,
The dead revive and live.

4 Restrain'd to no one case or time,
These waters always move;
Sinners in ev'ry age and clime
Their vital influence prove.

5 Yet numbers daily near them lie,
Who meet with no relief;

With life in view, they pine and die,
In hopeless unbelief.

6 "Tis strange they should refuse to bathe,
And yet frequent the pool;
But none can even wish for faitn
While love of sin bears rule.

7 Satan their consciences has seal'd,
And stupified their thought,
For, were they willing to be heal'd,
The cure would soon be wrought.
8 Do thou, dear Saviour, interpose,
Their stubborn will constrain;
Or else to them the water flows
And grace is preach'd in vain.