In the evening of the day opportunities are plentiful: men return from their labor, and the zealous soul-winner finds time to tell abroad the love of Jesus. Have I no evening work for Jesus? If I have not, let me no longer withhold my hand from a service which requires abundant labor. Jesus gave both

his hands to the nails; how can I keep back one of mine from his blessed work? Night and day he toiled and prayed for me; how can I give a single hour to selfish indulgence? Up, idle heart; stretch out your hand to work, or uplift it to pray: Heaven and Hell are in earnest; let me be so, and this evening sow good seed for the Lord my God.

While sick men take two kinds of medicine, there is little hope of a cure, especially if the two draughts are compounded of opposing ingredients; the bird which lives on two trees builds its nest on neither; and the soul halting between grace and works

can never find rest for the sole of its foot. Perhaps, my reader, a secret and well-near imperceptible self-trust is the very thing which shuts out Christ from your soul.