longeth after thee, and fain would see thee saved. Oh, why art thou so indifferent to thyself when others can scarce refrain from tears on thy behalf! By thy mother's prayers, thy sister's tears, and thy father's anxieties, I beseech thee give a reason for thy sottish indifference to thine eternal welfare. Dost thou now come to thyself? Dost thou now exclaim, "I will arise and go unto my Father?” Oh, be assured of a welcome reception, of gladsome entertainment, and loving acceptance.

"From the Mount of Calvary,

Where the Saviour deigned to die,
What melodious sounds I hear,

Bursting on my ravished ear!

Love's redeeming work is done!
COME, AND WELCOME, SINNER, COME.

"Now behold the festal board,

With its richest dainties stored;
To thy Father's bosom press'd,
Once again a child confess'd.
From his house no more to roam;

COME, AND WELCOME, SINNER, COME."

IX.

JESUS IN THE HOUR OF TROUBLE.

"Who passing through the valley of Baca make it a well; the rain also filleth the pools."-Ps. lxxxiv. 6.

PILGRIMAGE to an appointed shrine seems to be an essential part of most religions. The tribes of Israel made yearly journeys to Jerusalem, that at one great altar they might sacrifice unto the Lord their God. Borrowing the idea, probably, from the Jews, we find false religions inculcating the same. The disciples of Brahma are required to undertake long and painful journeys to the temple of Juggernaut, or to the banks of their sacred river, the Ganges. The Mahometan has his Kebla of worship; and, if he be thoroughly a devout follower of the false prophet, he must, once in his life, offer his petitions at Mecca. And who has not heard of the palmer plodding his weary way to the Holy Sepulchre, or of the Canterbury pilgrim going to the tomb of Thomas à Becket?

But the religion of God, the revelation of our most merciful Father, does not thus deal with man. It prescribes no earthly pilgrimage. It knows nothing of local restrictions. It declares that "neither in this mountain nor yet at Jerusalem shall men worship the Father;" that "God is a spirit," everywhere present, and as a spirit "must be worshipped," not merely by outward acts, but in spirit and in truth."

Yet "pilgrimage" is one of the leading ideas of Christianity. Every Christian is mystically a pilgrim. His rest is not here. He is not a citizen of earth. Here he has no abiding city. He journeys to a shrine unseen by mortal eye, whither his fathers have arrived. This life-journey is his one incessant occupation. He came into the world that he might march through it in haste. He is ever a pilgrim, in the fullest and truest sense.

Nothing can be more pleasing to a thoughtful Christian than marking the footsteps of the flock, and tracing the track they have left in the bloodbesprinkled way. Thus the geography of Christian life becomes an interesting study. To enter the wicket-gate, to sit in the arbour on the hill-side, to lie in the chamber of peace in the House Beautiful, to stand on the Delectable Mountains, or walk among the spice beds of the land Beulah, yields far sweeter pleasure than fairy dreams, or tales coloured by fancy, whispered by the lips of music.

There are many fair and enchanting spots in the highway of salvation-spots which angels have visited, and which the saints have sighed to behold again and again. But some other parts of the way are not so inviting; we love not to enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, nor to approach the mountains of the leopards, nor the lions' dens, yet must all of them be passed.

It is a precious mercy that Jesus, the heavenly Friend, is willing and able to accompany us in all our journeyings, and is the consolation of our souls in periods of blackest woe. After surveying the Valley of Baca, noticing the toilsome effort of the pilgrims in digging wells therein, and remarking the heavenly supply with which the pools are filled, we shall consider the grace of our Lord Jesus as exhibited to his people in their sorrowful passage through this Vale of Tears.

I. THE VALLEY OF BACA. The best description given of the Valley of Baca seems to be, that it was a defile through which a portion of the tribes had to pass on their journey to the city of their solemnities. It was a place noted for its dryness, and therefore pits were digged therein for the purpose of holding rain-water for the thirsty wayfarers as they passed through it. But, probably, the Psalmist looked not so much at the place as at its name, which signifies "Valley of Sorrow, or

Tears." The Septuagint translates it, "Valley of Lamentation," and the Latin Vulgate, "Vale of Tears." We may therefore read the verse thus:"Who passing through the vale of Tears make it a well," &c. Of this valley we may observe, first, It is much frequented. The way to Zion lies through its glooms. Many of God's chosen ones are carried from the breast to glory, and thus escape this dreary place, but all the rest of God's children must pass through it. Frequent are their sojourning in this "house of mourning." Not once nor twice, but many a time must they tread this valley. As numerous as their days are the causes of their griefs. The molestations of disease, the disappointments of business, the losses of adversity, and the havocs of death, combining with a thousand other ills, furnish enough material for the much tribulation through which we inherit the kingdom. All men have their times of sadness, but some seem to be always in the deep waters-their lives, like Ezekiel's roll, seem written within and without with lamentations. They can just dimly recollect happier days, but those are past long ago. They have for some time been the children of grief. They seldom eat a crust unmoistened by a tear. Sorrow's wormwood is their daily salad. Perhaps some sudden calamity has snatched away the gourd which covered their head, and, Jonahlike, they think they do well to be angry even unto