The Fragrance of Christ.

A bundle, a little bag, of myrrh, carried in the bosom, scents the garments, and diffuses its fragrance all around, whether at home or abroad, at work, or resting in the sanctuary or the social circle, silently but surely, the fragrance of the perfume, like the air, fills the scene. And even after the person has left, the sweet odour remains, as a testimony to the value of that which lay nearest to her heart. Oh! exquisite emblem! Is this thy faithfulness to Jesus, O my soul? Does He lie embalmed in thine heart, and does the sweet savour of His name go with thee, whithersoever thou goest, and remain when thou art gone? Soul-searching truth "Occupy till I come," were the farewell words of the rejected Jesus to His disciples; and over the memorials of His dying love He has written in wondrous grace, "This do in remembrance of Me." He has not asked us to do some great thing for Him, or to lay on His altar some costly sacrifice: No; but simply to be occupied with Himself as earth's rejected Christ, during His absence, and to give Him a place in our hearts. "Remember Me," was His last request — think of Me — refer everything in your hearts to Me. Have we done so? Have I done so? Do I do so now? Has the affianced bride of the Lamb thus placed Him in her bosom and carried Him there during the long, long dark night of His absence? Alas, alas, the requests of Thy love have been forgotten! Rivals have been admitted and entertained; and sorrowful it is to find Thee outside, in Thine unwearied love, knocking at the door, until in the mystic language of the Song of Songs, Thy head is filled with dew, and Thy locks with the drops of the night. "But the night is far spent, the day is at hand." Yes, the happy day draws near, when through Thy patient grace, the affections of Thy heavenly and earthly people shall perfectly answer to Thine own.
A. Miller.