August 9

were called dogs by the Jews; and our Saviour himself speaks of them as inhabiting the highways and hedges, and as the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind. Yet for these there was room. These were to be compelled to come in. The Saviour excludes none but those who exclude themselves; and he even complains of their conduct—"Ye will not come to me that ye might have life." Let the vilest of the vile, let the chief of sinners seek to him, and try the graciousness and truth of the promise that has been the sheet-anchor of thousands—"HIM THAT COMETH UNTO ME I WILL IN NO WISE CAST OUT."

AUGUST 9.—"The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage."—Psalms 16:6.

WE may put this acknowledgment into the mouth of an INDULGED CHILD OF PROVIDENCE.

David seems to refer to the division of the land of promise by lot. What fell to the share of his tribe had some special advantages, for which he expresses himself with gratitude and joy. He had also been raised up from an obscure and contracted station to the possession of honours and resources, which filled him with wonder and praise, and led him to exclaim, "Lord, what am I, and what is my father's house, that thou hast brought me hitherto?" There are many who are similarly favoured, though not in an equal degree. They have independence; or if they have not abundance, they have competency, which Agar deems far preferable. They have an agreeable calling. Business prospers, and exceeds their wants. They have a peaceful dwelling and affectionate connections. They have health, and power to relish the beauties of nature, the bounties of earth, and the endearments of social life—

"Not more than others they deserve, Yet God has given them more"—

And far more—Their cup runneth over.

Only let them remember that these indulgences are not "the one thing needful;" and that it becomes them to say with Watts,

"Without thy graces and thyself, I were a wretch undone."

Or, with Cowper,

"Give what thou canst, without thee we are poor, And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away."

Whatever those outward blessings may do for them, they cannot reach their principal exigences. They profit not in the day of wrath, nor deliver from death, nor evince the friendship of God, nor relieve the burdened conscience, nor heal the wounded spirit, nor content the cravings of an immortal mind. Yea, they should also remember, that they are in peculiar danger from these enjoyments. The peril is, that they trust in uncertain riches, and not in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy—That they make the creature a substitute for the Creator—That they lose the heart

of a stranger—That they forget their resting-place—That their thoughts are drawn off from home by the agreeableness and delights of the way—That their table becomes a snare; and their prosperity destroys them. The writer, some years ago, in a neighbouring city, received in the pulpit the following note: “The prayers of this congregation are earnestly desired for a man who is prospering in his worldly concerns.” And if he did this sincerely, and there is no reason to question it, the man showed an acquaintance with the weakness and depravity of human nature. He had studied himself; he had observed others. He had also read his Bible to purpose, which informed him how Joseph, in the court of Pharaoh, swore “by the life of Pharaoh;” how David in his prosperity said, “I shall not be moved;” how Hezekiah delivered, recovered, honoured, “rendered not according to the benefit done him, for his heart was lifted up;” how Jeshurun waxed fat, and kicked—“then he forsook God which made him, and lightly esteemed the Rock of his salvation.”

Yet these things are good in themselves, and display the bounty and kindness of God; and yield us a thousand comforts and advantages. And who could imagine they were bestowed upon those who are not worthy of the least of all his mercies; yea, upon rebels who deserve his wrath? Surely it becomes the possessors to be thankful, and to say, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.” Surely they must be the vilest of all beings, whose feelings do not often produce the acknowledgment, “The lines are fallen to me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage.”

“But all are not thus indulged: all cannot use this language.” Yet more might use it: and more would use it if they were more sensible of their desert, more humble, more disposed to compare conditions not with those above them, but with those below them. For while they are injured in their circumstances, others are ruined. While they have lost one child, others have been bereaved of all their offspring. While they have occasional infirmities and ailments, others are bedridden, made to possess months of vanity, and have none assurance of their life. We do not wonder that persons are dissatisfied with their portion, who send out pride and fancy to explore it; who dwell on the dark side of their condition only, and never look at the bright one; and suffer the impression of a single trial to render them insensible to the claims of a thousand comforts.

And we leave those whom Jude calls “murmurers and complainers;” or, as the word is, blasphemers of their lot. Haman goes home to his wife, and states all his greatness, but adds, “Yet all this availeth me nothing, so long as Mordecai the Jew sitteth at the king’s gate.” Ahab, in a palace, cannot eat and drink; and turns sick; and takes to his bed; because one of his subjects will not sell him a few yards of garden ground. One is mopish and melancholy because he cannot get a particular place or office. Another is sour or spiteful because all the neighbourhood will not bend to his humour, or think him so great a man as he imagines himself to be—we do not wish the cravings of such groaners to be indulged; it would only carry them the further still from contentment. But we pray that they may exchange “the sorrow of the