XII

COMMUNION PRESERVED.

"But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent."-LUKE xxiv. 29.

THESE disciples knew not their Lord, but they loved the unknown stranger who spake so sweetly of him. Blessed are the men who discourse of Jesus; they shall ever find a welcome in the hearts and homes of the elect. His name to our ears is ever melodious, and we love that conversation best. which is fullest of it. We would willingly afford the chamber on the wall, the table, the stool, and the candlestick, to all those who will talk continually of Him. But, alas! there are too many who would blush to answer our Saviour's question, "What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another?"* Too great a number of professors forget the words of the prophet,

* Luke xxiv. 17.

"Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another: and the Lord hearkened and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.”* We will not be censorious, but we believe with an old author, that "the metal of the bell is known by the sound of the clapper; what is in the well will be found in the bucket; what is in the warehouse will be shown in the shop; and what is in the heart will be bubbling forth at the mouth."

We often miss our Lord's company, because our conversation does not please him. When our Beloved goes down into his garden, it is to feed there and gather lilies; but if thorns and nettles are the only products of the soil, he will soon be away to the true beds of spices. When two walk together, and are agreed in solemn discourse concerning heavenly things, Jesus will soon make a third. So here, on this journey to Emmaus, the Saviour, though they "knew him not, because their eyes were holden," did so wondrously converse with them, that their "hearts burned within them." He who would stay a man in the street

* Mal. iii. 16, 17.

+ Cant. vi. 2.

would naturally call out his name; and he who would bring Jesus into his soul must frequently pronounce his charming name.

The Lord having graciously conversed with these favoured travellers, essays to leave them, and continue his journey, but they constrain him to remain, and at their earnest suit he does so. From this pleasing little incident let us glean one or two lessons.

I. When we have the Saviour's company for a little while, we shall not be content until we have more of it. These holy men were not content to let him go, but would have him tarry with them all night. There are certain liquors which men drink that are said to increase thirst; it is most true of this rich "wine on the lees," that the more we drink of it the more we desire. Nor will the draught be forbidden us, or prove in any way injurious, for the spouse bids us "drink, yea, drink abundantly." The soul which has enjoyed commu nion with Jesus will never agree that it has dwelt long enough on the mount: it will far rather build a tabernacle for itself and its master. Never is a Christian tired of his Redeemer's society, but, like Abraham, he cries, "My Lord, if now I have found favour in thy sight, pass not away, I pray thee, from thy servant." Any plea will be urged to persuade our Lord to remain. Is it evening?

we will plead that the day is far spent, and we shall need him to cheer our midnight hours. Is it morning? we will tell him that we fear to begin the day without a long visit from him. Is it noon? we will urge that the sun is hot, and we shall faint unless he allows us to sit beneath his shadow. We will always find some reason for his remaining, for love's logic is inexhaustible. If he would become our constant guest we should never weary of his company. A thousand years would seem but as one day if all the time we might lay our head upon his bosom; yea, eternity itself shall need no other source of joy since this perennial stream is ever running. When our wondering eyes have admired the beauties of our Saviour for millions of years we shall be quite as willing to continue the meditation, supremely blest with that Heaven which our eyes shall drink in from his wounded hands and side. The marrow of heaven is Jesus; and as we shall never be surfeited with bliss, so we shall never have too much of Jesus. Fresh glories are discovered in him every hour; his person, work, offices, character, affection, and relationships, are each of them clusters of stars which the eye of contemplation will view with unutterable astonishment as they are in their order revealed to the mind. The saint who has longest tenanted the mansions of glory will confess that the presence of the Saviour has not ceased to be his bliss, nor

has the freshness of the pleasure been in the least diminished. Christ is a flower, but he fadeth not; he is a river, but he is never dry; he is a sun, but he knoweth no eclipse; he is all in all, but he is something more than all. He that longs not for Christ hath not seen him, and by just so much as man has tasted of the sweetness of Jesus will he be hungry and thirsty after more of him. Men who are content with a manifestation once in a month will soon become so dull that once a year will suit them; but he who has a visit from the Saviour very frequently will be panting for fresh views of him every day—yea, and every hour of the day. He will never lack appetite for spiritual things who lives much on them. The poor professor may be content with a few of Christ's pence now and then, but he who is rich in grace thinks so small an income beneath his station, and cannot live unless he has golden gifts from the hand of his Lord; he will covet earnestly this best of gifts, and be a very miser after the precious things of the cross. John Owen, the most sober of theologians, falls into a perfect ecstasy when touching on this subject. In expounding Cant. viii. 6, 7, he gives us the following glowing passage: "The intendment of what is so loftily set out by so many metaphors in these verses is, 'I am not able to bear the workings of my love to thee, unless I may always have society and fellowship with thee.