On THEE, my Paschal Lamb, I feed,
(Rich emblem of the grace I need!)

And eager faith receives thee whole:
An undivided sacrifice
Alone my hunger will suffice,

And ease the craving of my soul.

Yet still the briny tear shall flow;
I'll taste the luxury of woe,

In fellowship with thee, dear Lord!
Repentance— faith's first bitter leaf-
Mingles my cup with holy grief,

But sweetens mercy's welcome word.

Search me, O God, and try my heart;
Purge out all leaven from every part;

To me a full redemption give;
From sin and Satan's tyrant rod,
To walk in liberty with God,

And to my great Deliverer live.

Begirt with truth, in pilgrim guise,
I follow where my pathway lies,

Through foes or desert, flame or flood;
Immortal, till thy work is done,
Unwearied, till the prize is won

The Canaan that was bought with blood.

THIRTIETH MEDITATION.

PHYSICIAN.

no value." *

My Saviour is the PHYSICIAN of

my

soul. All else, who may profess, or promise, or attempt to relieve or cure its maladies, “ are physicians of

Those maladies are too deeply seated for human remedies to reach. They have pervaded every part of the spiritual system, to an extent which defies all the efforts of created intelligence or benevolence to trace or remove. Some of the brute creation have a powerful instinct, which impels them to search out and eat an antidote to the poisonous wounds received from their foes. But we have no such antidote within our reach in nature ; nor is reason in us so powerful as instinct in the brute.

My Saviour, “the beloved Physician,” came “ to restore that which he took not away,” even the health of the diseased family of man. By submitting to death, he purchased for himself a diploma, authorizing him to become the Physician of our souls to run in between the living and the dead, that he might stay the plague. Blessed Lord, thou appearest in the midst of this pestilential world, and, standing beside one and another of our dying souls, thou sayest, with a smile of love, which of itself inspires hope and confidence in thy undertaking, “ I am the Lord that healeth thee!" * Thou hast, I believe, begun the cure of my soul, which I acknowledge to have been in as diseased a state as that of any sinner. Thou hast applied the healing leaves of the tree of life ; † and through thy precious, atoning blood, and thy renovating Spirit, I find within me new life, and many delightful sensations of returning health, while I look joyfully onward to the completion of my cure, when, on entering thy heavenly abode, disease shall forever leave my spiritual frame, and I shall be saved, without the possibility of a relapse.

But I look round upon the church and upon the world, and there are moments when, forgetful of what the Lord has done for me, I am tempted to ask, “Is there no balm in Gilead ?

is there no physician there? Why, then, is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?"* Yes; there are both; but unto both

there exists an inveterate aversion, which constitutes the worst symptom of the malady. "The carnal mind is enmity against God," and would dash to the ground "the cup of salvation offered by a Saviour's pierced hand." Even this, however, shall yield to the skill and power of the great Physician. He says, "Behold, I will bring it health and cure, and I will cure them, and reveal unto them the abundance of peace and truth." Even the most dangerous cases of relapse are not beyond his art or his patience. "I will heal their backsliding; I will love them freely." His miracles of healing, performed on the bodies and minds of men, when he walked on earth, were both specimens of his authority and power, and types of his healing purposes towards the whole world. That world is yet to be the ample area of a city whose name shall be, "the Lord is there;" and "the inhabitants

Jesus, my God, disease and pain,
With all their dire and ghastly train,
Are servants of thy wrath or love,
And at thy sovereign bidding move.

From the light ills of infant age,
Up to the plague's destructive rage,
They come and go at thy command,
True to the sceptre of thy hand.

Thou, too, hast potent balm to cure
The maladies our souls endure :
None, who to thee for healing come,
Are sent, unhealed, despairing, home.

Though covered o'er with leprous guilt,
Thou, Lord, canst cleanse me, if thou wilt;
O, let me hear thee say, “ Be clean!”
No loathsome spot shall then be seen.

Physician of my fainting soul,
One word of thine shall make me whole;
One touch one timid touch of thee,
Shall set my long-bound spirit free.