"All-sufficiency in all things!" Believer! surely thou art "thoroughly furnished!" Grace is no scanty thing, doled out in pittances. It is a glorious treasury, which the key of prayer can always unlock, but never empty. A fountain, "full, flowing, _ever_ flowing, _over_flowing." Mark these three ALL's in this precious promise. It is a three-fold link in a golden chain, let down from a throne of grace by a God of grace. "_All-grace!_"--"_all-sufficiency!_" in "_all things!_" and these to "abound." Oh! precious thought! My want cannot impoverish that inexhaustible treasury of grace! Myriads are hourly hanging on it, and drawing from it, and yet there is no diminution: "Out of that fulness all we too may receive, and grace for grace!" My soul, dost not thou love to dwell on that all-abounding grace? Thine own insufficiency in every thing, met with an "all-sufficiency in all things!" Grace in all circumstances and situations, in all vicissitudes and changes, in all the varied phases of the Christian's being. Grace in sunshine and storm--in health and in sickness--in life and in death. Grace for the old believer and the young believer, the tried believer, and the weak believer, and the tempted believer. Grace _for_ duty, and grace _in_ duty,--grace to carry the joyous cup with a steady hand,--grace to drink the bitter cup with an unmurmuring spirit,--grace to have prosperity sanctified,--grace to say, through tears, "Thy will be done!" "REMEMBER _THIS_ WORD UNTO THY SERVANT, UPON WHICH THOU HAST CAUSED ME TO HOPE!" 4TH DAY. "He is Faithful that Promised." "I will not leave you comfortless; I will come to you."--JOHN xiv. 18. Comforting Grace. Blessed Jesus! How thy presence sanctifies trial, takes loneliness from the chamber of sickness, and the sting from the chamber of death! Bright and Morning Star! precious at all times, thou art never _so_ precious as in "the dark and cloudy day!" The bitterness of sorrow is well worth enduring to have thy promised consolations. How well qualified, thou Man of Sorrows, to be my Comforter! How well fitted to dry my tears, Thou who didst shed so many thyself! What are _my_ tears--my sorrows--my crosses--my losses, compared with Thine, who didst shed first Thy tears, and then Thy blood for _me_! Mine are all deserved, and infinitely more than deserved. How different, O Spotless Lamb of God, those pangs which rent Thy guiltless bosom! How sweet those comforts Thou hast promised to the comfortless, when I think of them as flowing from an Almighty _Fellow-Sufferer_,--"A brother born for adversity,"--the "Friend that sticketh closer than any brother!"--one who can say, with all the refined sympathies of a holy exalted human nature, "I know your sorrows!" My soul! calm thy griefs! There is not a sorrow thou canst experience, but Jesus, in the treasury of grace, has an exact corresponding solace: "In the multitude of the _sorrows_ I have in my heart, Thy _comforts_ delight my soul!"