strength, as the fountains of love were unsealed by the power of God's Spirit. True we are again parched and dry; true the way seems long, and the track has become confused, and the mirage rises to delude us; and we gaze over the burning sky, resting our eyes anxiously on the far-off horizon, but catching no glimpse of the green hills of the Land of our deliverance; but so surely as we have once known what it was to rest beside that Living Fountain, and to lie down beneath the shelter of that Mighty Rock, so surely, if we will but continue our course, shall the clear spring of a grateful heart, and the unspeakable rest of a loving spirit, again be vouchsafed to us.

The toil and con

Only we must continue. flict, the weariness and disappointment of the desert, these are now our portion; not the short but blest repose of the green oasis. If we are striving to obey, whatever be the extent of our efforts, we are advancing; and it is advancement which we seek. We mourn for our Saviour's sufferings; we leave His Presence and sin. That fact may indeed dishearten us, but the very knowledge that we are disheartened is a call to give us courage again. To be disheartened, is to be disappointed. To be disappointed, is to fail in that which we wish. To wish, if the wish is for holiness, is a gift of God, and a token of His love. Again may we set out with renewed hope; and this not once, or twice, not "until seven times," but "until seventy times

seven." And thus shall we look back upon those happier hours, when the consciousness of love was our refreshment, with thankfulness rather than with sadness. If life be prolonged, we may look for them to be restored to us here; if it be shortened, we may be certain that they will be perpetuated in Heaven.

There, we shall feel again. In that new life love will find a fresh spring. And there all which is now bitter to us in our moments of sympathy and devotion, will be overpowered by the sight of our Saviour's happiness. When the innumerable company of the redeemed shall stand before the throne of Christ, even the words "they crucified Him," will be remembered without pain. When "Jesus shall wipe away all tears from our eyes," even those which have flowed at the thought that our sins were His torturers, will for ever be dried.

"Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory which Thou hast given me; for Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world."

That must have been a prayer for an unutterable Joy, for it was offered in the immediate prospect of an unutterable Agony. If there are moments when our hearts are oppressed with a heavy weight, a thought for which there would seem no solace, even that He who redeemed us suffered, and that no sympathy, no love of ours can be offered in

recompence for those sufferings;-let us remember this last longing of His Soul, and as we pour out our hearts in prayer, for blessings upon those who are most dear to us on earth, so let us pray that the Joy to which Jesus looked forward, in the presence of His own death, may be His, soon-yes, for His sake, very soon,-in the day of our resurrection.

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Surely I come quickly: Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus."

SINS OF IGNORANCE.

ST. LUKE, Xxiii. 34.

"Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

SHOULD this prayer have been considered by us at all, it may in many cases have been with the question in our minds, how far guilt can co-exist with ignorance, a question to which we can probably give no satisfactory answer. But the distinction between willing and unwilling ignorance in which all the difficulty lies-is, perhaps, after a time, brought home to us by some light thrown upon a sin which for years we have been persuading ourselves was not sin; and then our perplexity is solved. The clue to its solution is to be found in that one word,-persuading. We require no persuasion to satisfy us about actions which clearly innocent. When a man has determined to speak the truth, he does not require to be persuaded that he is right. When he resolves to conquer some evil passion, he never argues with himself in order to be quite convinced that he is justified in his self-control. When we are forced

are

to persuade ourselves that we are right, it is because conscience is whispering to us that we are wrong, and, the whisper being painful, we desire to silence it; so that, in fact, we are not sinning in ignorance. We know not, possibly, what we do; we may not see, or understand, or be able to calculate the extent of evil involved in our actions; but we do know quite enough to convince us that we had better not do it. And the greater the possible guilt, or the possible danger of our action, the greater also must be our responsibility in committing it. There are occasions when we may see, either in our own career or in that of others, instances of a great punishment following upon what we can scarcely bring ourselves to call a great offence, because it is committed, we say, for the most part, ignorantly; and there may appear to be a startling severity in such an amount of retribution. An act of carelessness produces, perhaps, ruin for life, and we think that the penalty is in no way proportioned to the fault; but if the person who committed the act was told that ruin might follow upon it, his offence ceased to be merely carelessness, and must be measured, not by its own intrinsic evil, nor by his own intentions, but by his knowledge of the necessity of care. So the least suspicion that any doubtful action is connected with great evil intensifies its guilt. Levity and frivolity-light sins, as we call them-excusable as we think them in young persons, are not really excusable. No doubt, we, who are older, look

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