ed Bride, let us now hear what it is she really desires, and what the nature of the inquiry she has addressed to the Lord. 'Tell me,' she says, 'O Thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon; for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?' His companions are the ministers of his word, the preachers and prophets whom he has called; and it is a great honor, which Shulamite confers on them, when she calls them the companions of Christ! Elsewhere, we are termed messengers in Christ's stead, and his fellow laborers. To what dignity are we here raised! Our hearts might well be oppressed, and force us to exclaim, "Lord God! send another, I am not fit to preach." The flocks of these companions, are those who have believed through their word, their spiritual children. Amongst these Shulamite had wandered; but she had no desire to do so longer; what had it availed her ? Nothing; no sermon, however beautiful, no devotional exercises, no exhortations of the brethren, had been able to make her depressed and withered heart again to blossom, or to re-assure her sinking soul. Ah,' she says, 'suffer me no longer to wander in vain among the flocks of thy companions; but come to me thyself!' But the words likewise be rendered thus, That I may no longer be amongst the flocks of thy companions, as one veiled'—that is, as a widow. “ Ah," she will say, "while thy other children boast of the sweetness of thy presence, of the consolations they receive from thee, and of the frequency of thy visits; must I cast down my eyes in melancholy and silence; and be a barren tree amongst the fruitful, or as a sick

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lamb amongst the vigorous of the flock? No one derives benefit from me; I am to the brethren as one dead; I have lost my beloved; my friend has forsaken me; he cheers me no longer; I am solitary and disconsolate; and shall I not wear the veil of mourning? Such is the state in which Shulamite describes herself to be, and she prays the Lord to relieve her from it.

'Tell me,' she says, ' where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon.' Yes, that is what she most desires to know. In the first place, where he is in circumstances like those in which she then found herself, where he really feedeth? But what is it you wish so much to know, beloved Shulamite? We do not understand your words. Do you inquire where he would then find food for himself? Oh, he would find abundance in your heart, although you do not think so. This anxiety about him, this seeking and longing, this inquiry and running after your lost friend, he is well pleased to see; that is to him food, a delight, a sweet repast; even in the barren desert he can find food. But probably you wish to know what food he has provided for such poor miserable sheep as you have now become? Secret food, hidden pastures. He sustains them by an unseen energy, with a concealed faith, of which they are not sensible; and with a hope whose sweetness they have not tasted; but yet it is near them. He likewise sometimes feeds such afflicted lambs who know not whether they belong to the Shepherd or not, upon the field of their own early experience; he conducts them back in spirit to the period when they certainly experienced the kiss of his love, and when he made his covenant with them. With David they then remember

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their song in the night; and the recollection, in some degree, revives their courage, Or he points them, in his word, to the promises which assure them that the bruised reed shall not be broken, or the smoking flax be quenched. In short, there is never any want of food and spiritual nourishment for Christ's sheep; no, not even when they appear to wade in the sandy desert, where no vegetation regales the eye, where not a blade of grass presents itself to their longing appetites. Tell me,' the Shulamite asks again, where thou resteth at noon?'. That he rests that she knows, that she feels. The sound of his footsteps she no longer hears, neither can she perceive any trace of his presence or his influence, either within or around her. Ah, beloved soul, if thou didst but know it, he rests quite near to thee, in thy bark, in thy chamber; yes, even in thy heart;— though indeed thou perceivest him not. Now she has no rest till she has again found him, till she again possesses him, and can say, 'My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.' Without Him, oh! where can she be at peace, with all her sinfulness, her misery, her weakness and infirmity? No, she must have him again! She wanders from place to place; now she seeks him in the solitude of her closet, if peradventure she may find him there; now she looks for him amongst the assembled brethren, and asks, Is he here? Then she searches for him in books and spiritual songs, if by any means she may find him. All kinds of advisers come to her; "Oh!" they say, "be not so vehement; wait with patience, till the Lord shows himself again." But she indignantly rejects such counsel. The matter is too urgent. She must seek him. Or, it

is said," Enjoy the beauties of nature, cheer yourself in pleasant society." "Ah," she replies, "I covet no rest, till I can enjoy it in the arms of Jesus." Her dejection increases, and she knows no other resource than to call upon him, 'Tell me, thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flocks to rest at noon?'

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IV. Thus she inquires, thus she laments. At length she obtains an answer. The Bridegroom replies to her with another question; and he asks, Dost thou not know, O thou fairest among women?' In what a delightful sense those words may be understood! A child in its distress flies to its mother for consolation; she listens to its complaints, and laughs away its tears. In this sense must we understand the reply of Christ. Shulamite stands mourning and distressed before him; she thinks herself black, and that she no longer belongs to the fold. The Lord laughs at her complaint, and seems to say, "Yes, thou hast really cause to be dejected about thy soul!" "Shulamite," hast thou then forgotten? Dost thou really not know, O thou fairest among women? Thou who art arrayed with the glory of the Sun, who hast been made partaker of my nature, who art adorned with my righteousness, the righteousness of God; wilt thou hang down thy head as a bulrush? O thou fairest among women! be sensible of thy glory; for know I have invested thee with my own; and in truth no angel is so beautiful as thou art. This is the meaning of the words employed by Jesus. How often might they be repeated! How often do we meet with souls like Shulamite, whose very appearance says, Do not look

upon me, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, I am altogether too black.' They will perceive nothing of the Divine nature in themselves; they deem themselves at a great distance, and rather number all others among the children of God, than themselves. Yet in all they say and do the seal of the Lamb that they bear upon them is visi ble: their sighs, their patience, their hunger and thirst, their love, all make it convincingly evident that they are the children of God, and are clothed with the righteousness of Christ, or that none are. And still they persist in believing that all with them is a delusion; and though we address them in the words of Christ, 'O thou fairest among women, dost thou really not know thyself? What does it avail that we speak? They usually do not believe us.

V. But yet Shulamite is again to be comforted, and to obtain peace. To this end the Lord gives her, in the first instance, the good advice to go forth. To go forth! And from whence? To go forth from herself. Undoubtedly much of our spiritual dejection arises chiefly from our thoughts being too constantly turned within ourselves, busied in the contemplation of our own frailty and misery. We ought, indeed, to watch over our hearts, and daily and hourly to be mindful of our wretchedness, misery, and sin; but we ought likewise to look out of ourselves. Many are as completely absorbed in the thoughts of their own misery, as if there were nothing else to be considered; as if no cross had been erected, and no blood had flowed from it, to wash away sin. They view their depravity, as if unatoned for on Golgotha, as if there had been no Son of God to pay all our