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Such is my consciousness of sin and inability that I must have a super-human Savior.-DANIEL WEBSTER.

Joy in Christ.

The best enjoyments of Christ on earth are but as the dipping of our finger in water for the cooling of our thirst; but Heaven is bathing in seas of bliss. Even so our love here is but one drop of the same substance as the waters of the ocean, but not comparable for magnitude or depth. Oh, how sweet it will be to be married to the Lord Jesus, and to enjoy forever, and without any interruption, the heavenly delights of His society! Surely, if a glimpse of Him melteth our soul, the full fruition of Him will be enough to burn up with affection. It is well that we shall have more noble frames in Heaven than we have here, otherwise we should die of love in the very land of life. - SPURGEON.

Living for Christ.

It is the highest stage of manhood to have no wish, no thought, no desire, but Christ—to feel that to die were bliss, if it were for Christ--that to live in penury, and woe, and scorn, and contempt, and misery, were sweet for Christ—to feel that it matters nothing what becomes of one's self, so that our Master is but exalted—to feel that though, like a sere leaf, we are blown in the blast, we are quite careless whither we are going, so long as we feel that the Master's hand is guiding us according to His will; or, rather, to feel that though, like the diamond, we must be exercised with sharp tools, yet we care not

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how sharply we may be cut, so that we may be made fit brilliants to adorn His crown.—SPURGEON.

If Christ Were Here Now.

What would Christ do were He to live and act in this city?" The question is fair, because it simply asks what our whole world most needs. The Man of Nazareth would make a wonderful revolution in our world if He should persuade us all to live up to our knowledge. If the mind believes in temperance, in justice, in benevolence, in industry, in perfect honor, in physical and moral beauty, then all that remains is to make each day overflow with the obedience of these rich truths. Christ would be a divine friend could He do away with the distance between human philosophy and human life. He need not check the understanding. He need only help the heart to catch up.

The matchless beauty of Jesus lay not chiefly in the ethics which was stored in His mind-an ethics so perfect, so universal, so Divine—but it lay also in the fact that His philosophy did not outrun His soul. His oratory was the photograph of His life. His voice was like the murmur of the sea, which is not nearly so great as the sea itself. His words were few— His conduct vast. We reverse the picture and follow our gigantic philosophy with a microscopic life. And yet the fact that we excel the Negroes and the Indians proves that when the mind climbs to a height the heart also creeps up out of the valley. In the Son of God the intellect and the soul were companions. They were inseparable. The wreaths for the forehead of Jesus were

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wreaths for the heart. Great men like Emerson and Whittier and Gladstone are persons in whom mind and heart are both one. In Jesus the thought could not outrun the love.-SWING.

Christ and the Cross.

Christ longed for the cross, because He looked for it as the goal of all His exertions. He could never say, on His throne, “It is finished"; but on His cross He did cry it. He preferred the suffering of Calvary to the honors of the multitude who crowded round about Him; for, preach as He might, and bless them as He might, and heal them as He might, still was His work undone. He was straitened; He had a baptism to be baptized with, and how was He straitened till it was accomplished ? “But,” He said, “now I pant for my cross, for it is the topstone of my labor. I long for my sufferings, because they shall be the completion of my great work of grace.” It is the end that bringeth the honor; it is the victory that crowneth the warrior, rather than the battle. And so Christ longed for this, His death, that He might see the completion of His labor.—SPURGEON.

Our Savior's Earthly Home. It draws toward sunset as I pause here at the edge of a rustling grove of olive-trees in the center of the green, quiet, solemn valley from which Nazareth and its chief hill look on Esdraelon, Tabor, Carinel, the Mediterranean and Great Hermon. In all Palestine there is, it is said, no more rich and extensive prospect than that I

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