xx. UNTO GAZA, WHICH IS DESERT. 353 



by one from the sea-shore and the receipt of custom, 

 and the desolated home, clung faithfully to Him to the 

 last. 



But we may give a wider application to the lesson. 

 Whatever outward circumstance or inward motive in- 

 duces us to leave the crowd and go down unto " Gaza r 

 which is desert," for rest and meditation, we may be sure 

 that it is the prompting of the angel of the Lord. We 

 need to obey the Divine injunction more frequently, 

 for our religious life is too social, exhibits too much 

 of the common zoophyte type; it depends too much 

 upon the excitement of meetings and associations, and 

 is too often incapable of standing alone. It is urgently 

 required, therefore, that not only in the enjoyment of 

 the means of grace, but much more in their absence, 

 we should work out our own salvation. We need more 

 quiet, more reflection, more of the blessed solitude of 

 prayer, in order that the heavenly may overshadow 

 and shut out the earthly, and that we may hear the 

 still, small voice of our Heavenly Father, which we 

 are so apt to lose amid the tumults of the world and 

 the distractions of society, even the most religious. 

 If our careworn faces are to acquire and retain the 

 "print of heaven," and our character and conduct 

 the beauty of holiness, we should often retire from the 

 world, leave the crowd, and "go down unto Gaza, 

 which is desert." 



It was at the back side of the mountain on which he 

 fed his flock that the vision of the burning bush ap- 

 peared to Moses. In the front he saw no door opened 



