SUNDAY.
17
gate of my heart against it; lift up my spirit; let the house of prayer be unto me as a heavenly place; let the very rails of the altar remind me of my especial separation from the world; may I feel myself to be on holy ground; I cannot draw nearer unto Thee on the earth, may I feel Thy nearness. Till me with a sense of my own sins and Thy great love, of my own unworthiness and Thy mercy; for who can tell the love wherewith Thou hast loved us; I altogether sink to the earth when I think of Thy wonderful condescension towards us and the awfulness of our sins, that could in no other way be atoned for except by the spilling of Thine own blood.
I have sometimes, yea, many times rejoiced with unspeakable joy, when I have been suffered to partake of Thy Body and Blood in the Sacrament of Thy Supper, and to minister it to the more mature members of my flock; my soul has been filled with sensible consolations; I have experienced overflowings of love and great peace. But must I not confess that at times when I have been called to minister at Thine Altar, if it had not been my office to serve thereat, I might have abstained from the Feast! must I not confess that I have at times come coldly, with little heart; that I have ministered coldly, and not with