render. But are not we in danger of forgetting that pleasing GOD
means giving Him pleasure? Some of us look back to the time when the
words "To please GOD" meant no more than not to sin against Him, not to
grieve Him; but would the love of earthly parents be satisfied with the
mere absence of disobedience? Or a bridegroom, if his bride only sought
him for the supply of her own need?

A word about the morning watch may not be out of place here. There is no
time so profitably spent as the early hour given to JESUS only. Do we
give sufficient attention to this hour? If possible, it should be
redeemed; nothing can make up for it. We must take time to be holy! One
other thought. When we bring our questions to GOD, do we not sometimes
either go on to offer some other petition, or leave the closet without
waiting for replies? Does not this seem to show little expectation of an
answer, and little desire for one? Should we like to be treated so?
Quiet waiting before GOD would save from many a mistake and from many a
sorrow.

We have found the bride making a glad discovery of a KING--her KING--and
not a cross, as she expected; this is the first-fruit of her
consecration.

We will be glad and rejoice in Thee,
We will make mention of Thy love more than of wine:
Rightly do they love Thee.

Another discovery not less important awaits her. She has seen the face
of the KING, and as the rising sun reveals that which was hidden in the
darkness, so His light has revealed her blackness to her. "Ah," she
cries, "I am black";--"But comely," interjects the Bridegroom, with
inimitable grace and tenderness. "Nay, 'black as the tents of Kedar,'"
she continues. "Yet to Me," He responds, "thou art 'comely as the
curtains of Solomon!'" Nothing humbles the soul like sacred and intimate
communion with the LORD; yet there is a sweet joy in feeling that _He_
knows _all_, and, notwithstanding, loves us still. Things once called
"little negligences" are seen with new eyes in "the secret of His
presence." There we see the mistake, the sin, of not keeping our own
vineyard. This the bride confesses:--

Look not upon me, because I am swarthy,
Because the sun hath scorched me.
My mother's sons were incensed against me,
They made me keeper of the vineyards;
But mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Our attention is here drawn to a danger which is pre-eminently one of
this da