all we expected; and even if we think we can truly say, 'O
God, my heart is fixed,' we find that, to our daily sorrow, somehow or
other the details of our conduct do not seem to be fixed, something or
other is perpetually slipping through, till we get perplexed and
distressed. Then we are tempted to wonder whether after all there was not
some mistake about it, and the Lord did not really take us at our word,
although we took Him at His word. And then the struggle with one doubt,
and entanglement, and temptation only seems to land us in another. What
is to be done then?

First, I think, very humbly and utterly honestly to search and try our
ways before our God, or rather, as we shall soon realize our helplessness
to make such a search, ask Him to do it for us, praying for His promised
Spirit to show us unmistakably if there is any secret thing with us that
is hindering both the inflow and outflow of His grace to us and through
us. Do not let us shrink from some unexpected flash into a dark corner;
do not let us wince at the sudden touching of a hidden plague-spot. The
Lord always does His own work thoroughly if we will only let Him do it;
if we put our case into His hands, He will search and probe fully and
firmly, though very tenderly. Very painfully, it may be, but only that He
may do the very thing we want,--cleanse us and heal us thoroughly, so
that we may set off to walk in real newness of life. But if we do not put
it unreservedly into His hands, it will be no use thinking or talking
about our lives being consecrated to Him. The heart that is not entrusted
to Him for searching, will not be undertaken by Him for cleansing; the
life that fears to come to the light lest any deed should be reproved,
can never know the blessedness and the privileges of walking in the
light.

But what then? When He has graciously again put a new song in our mouth,
and we are singing,

'Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me His praise should sing?'

and again with fresh earnestness we are saying,

'Take my life, and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee!'

are we only to look forward to the same disappointing experience over
again? are we always to stand at the threshold? Consecration is not so
much a step as a course; not so much an act, as a position to which a
course of action inseparably belongs. In so far as it is a course and a
position, there must naturally be a definite entrance upon it, and a