soul, and looks him in the eyes, and with outstretched hand says,
'What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? Be it unto thee even as
thou wilt.'

III. Lastly, the perfect joy which follows upon these two.

'That your joy may be fulfilled.' Again we have a recurrence of a
promise that has appeared in another connection in an earlier part of
this discourse; but the connection here is worthy of notice. The
promise is of joy that comes from the satisfaction of meek desires in
unison with Christ's will. Is it possible then, that, amidst all the
ups and downs, the changes and the sorrows of this fluctuating,
tempest-tossed life of ours we may have a deep and stable joy? 'That
your joy may be full,' says my text, or 'fulfilled,' like some
jewelled, golden cup charged to the very brim with rich and
quickening wine, so that there is no room for a drop more. Can it be
that ever, in this world, men shall be happy up to the very limits of
their capacity? Was anybody ever so blessed that he could not be more
so? Was your cup ever so full that there was no room for another drop
in it? Jesus Christ says that it may be so, and He tells us how it
may be so. Bring your desires into harmony with God's, and you will
have none unsatisfied amongst them; and so you will be blessed to the
full; and though sorrow comes, as of course it will come, still you
may be blessed. There is no contradiction between the presence of
this deep, central joy and a surface and circumference of sorrow.
Rather we need the surrounding sorrow, to concentrate, and so to
intensify, the central joy in God. There are some flowers which only
blow in the night; and white blossoms are visible with startling
plainness in the twilight, when all the flaunting purples and reds
are hid. We do not know the depth, the preciousness, the power of the