And how is this state of things to be met? How is the troubled heart to be tranquillized, and the restless mind to be calmed down? What do I want? I want to find rest; how am I to find it? By stooping down and taking Christ's precious yoke upon me--the very yoke which He Himself ever wore, in the days of His flesh--the yoke of complete subjection to the will of God. I want to be able to say, without one atom of reserve--to say from the very depths of my heart, "Thy will, O Lord, be done." I want such a profound sense of His perfect love to me, and of His infinite wisdom in all His dealings with me, that I would not have it otherwise if I could--yea, that I would not move a finger to alter my position or circumstances, feeling assured that it is very much better for me to be suffering on a sick-bed in London than speaking on a platform in Glasgow. Here lies the deep and precious secret of rest of heart, as opposed to restlessness. It is the simple ability to thank God for every thing, be it ever so contrary to our own will and utterly subversive of our own plans. It is not a mere assent to the truth that "all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose;" it is the positive sense--the actual realization of the divine fact that the thing which God appoints is the very best thing for us; it is perfect repose in the love, wisdom, power, and faithfulness of the One who has graciously undertaken for us in every thing, and charged Himself with all that concerns us for time and eternity. We know that love will always do its very best for its object. What must it be to have God doing His very best for us? Where is the heart that would not be satisfied with God's best if only it knows aught of Him?