When Nehemiah mentions the king's garden, my mind races back to the paradise the King of kings prepared for Adam. Sin has utterly ruined that fair abode of all delights and driven forth humanity to till the ground, which yields thorns and briars to them.

O my soul, remember the fall—for it was your fall! Weep much because the Lord of love was so shamefully ill-treated by the head of the human race, of which you are a member, as undeserving as any. Behold how dragons and demons dwell on this fair earth, which once was a garden of delights.

But see yonder another King's garden, which the King waters with his bloody sweat—Gethsemane! Its bitter herbs are sweeter far to renewed souls than even Eden's luscious fruits. There the mischief of the serpent in the first garden was undone. There the curse was lifted from earth and borne by the woman's promised seed.

My soul, think much of the agony and the passion! Resort to the garden of the olive press and view your great Redeemer rescuing you from your lost estate. This is the garden of gardens indeed, where the soul may see the guilt of sin and the power of love—two sights which surpass all others.

Is there no other King's garden? Yes, my heart, you are—or should be—such a garden! How do the flowers flourish? Do any choice fruits appear? Does the King walk within and rest in the bowers of your spirit? Let me see that the plants are trimmed and watered, and the mischievous foxes hunted out.

Come, Lord, and let the heavenly wind blow at your coming, that the spices of your garden may flow abroad!

Nor must I forget the King's garden of the church. O Lord, send prosperity to it! Rebuild her walls, nourish her plants, ripen her fruits, and from the huge wilderness, reclaim the barren waste, and make thereof a King's garden.