business, until the duty appeared on the rocks above their path and said, "Climb up to me;" until the business said " Take trouble to learn me,”—when they sighed and cried—“I am tired, I am not well : the climb is too steep, I did not expect this trouble; let me rest; stay and take care of me." And so turned in a moment quite refreshed to something else.

Of what use were folk of this kind to Christ? What good could they do in carrying out the mission that Paul and Peter carried out before the Sanhedrim, and the tribunal of the Cæsar? They were seed sown on the shallow ground, and he knew well they would wither in the blaze of persecution, and snap like brittle steel at the first frost of trial. Not to them was to be entrusted anything; not to them, indeed, was to be given the task of preaching the truth and dying as martyrs. So, he tested them by leading them into a sterner region than that in which they led their lives, by bringing them face to face with an austere loveliness which they would have to work to win, whose smile was only to be gained by righteousness that had endured hardness, and love that had been salted by fire. He made clear to them that his life was not all spent by the pleasant shores of the summer sea of Galilec, but also in the

wilderness with the wild beasts and with the tempter; that his crown was rarely the crown of flowers, but the crown of thorns; that apparent defeat was the end of all their effort, the defeat of the Cross-that strange misery should be theirs, companionship with the guilty, the hooting of the Roman world, all that seemed unpoetical, unideal. Victory, indeed, if they could see it, joy unspeakable, and full of glory, peace that passed understanding, the uttermost ideal of love and holiness-but not their thought of victory, not what they wanted; not outward, not the pleasure of the passing thrill, nor the joy of the swift emotion, -but inward, hidden in the depths of God, to be found in eternity, by going through the gate of sacrifice and death. "If any man will follow me," he cried, "let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily." The ideal-what was it worth, if there was not an unbroken struggle to realize it? The poetic-what was it worth, if it could not go down into common life and glorify it? The tenderest emotion-what was it worth, unless it could be unflinching in trial, enduring against allurement, strong against the swift rush of evil impulse? The beautiful-what was it worth, unless it was found deepest in duty, most enthralling in dying for the Truth ?

And they could not bear it. From that time. forth they walked no more with him.

And our religion, our Christianity-of what value is it, if it is of this type? Does God care for it more, do you think, than we care for friendship, or for love of this character? When we lay at His feet, with a light air, this artistic theory we call religion, this poetic feeling only, which shrinks. from writing itself down in action, this slothful. sympathy which spends its pity on the life of Jesus, and regrets the fate of the Apostles whom it would probably turn from the door if they came to ask admission-how does God feel, do you imagine? Greatly pleased with all our fine fancies, and fine feelings, when we cry-"Lord, Lord, have I not taught in thy name? and in thy name done many wondrous works?" No, indeed,-stern and cold is his reply "I was sick, in prison, a stranger, and ye visited me not-Inasmuch as ye did it not to the least of these my brethren, ye did it not unto me. Depart from me, accursed!" Well did Christ, who wanted true souls for his work, test this false gold and prove it dross.

Test, then, yourselves by his words; test, in hours when you care to be true, whether you be a follower of him who endured hardness, or only a sentimental approver of the religion and life of Jesus.

THOUGHTFULNESS

"Come ye yourselves into a desert place, and rest a while.” -MARK vi. 31.

THIS is one of the many examples of the kindly thoughtfulness of Jesus; one of those touches of soft humanity which bring his life into the midst of all we know and love in home.

He and his disciples had been working hard. "Many were coming and going and they had no leisure so much as to eat." We often feel such a pressure of the world; the impatience not of work, but of a heart not able to compass it, or to fulfil it in the way we desire, till over-taxed and dispirited we call for rest. It was this weariness that fell on the Apostles. Christ beholding them, saw it on their faces, saw it because it was his habit to think of others and said, "Come ye into the wilderness and rest a while."

This is then the thoughtfulness for others which comforts, redeems, and exalts the troubles of the world. A few touches of it, in that short record

of a few months, show us that it filled the life of Christ. In his cordial call to Zacchaeus to make haste, and come down from the tree that he might abide in his house, Christ shows us how he felt in himself the isolation of the man. He saw the eager look on the mothers' faces as they brought to him their children by the way-side, and he gave his blessing. In forgiving the woman who was a sinner, we realize that he felt, more intensely and completely than she herself could feel, the passion and the loneliness of her repentance. The saying on the cross to John and his mother represents a tender thoughtfulness in him which we perhaps most casily remember. All these instances and more. that I might cite, have at their root the habit of that thoughtfulness which in forgetfulness of self feels what others are feeling, and then acts so as to heal and comfort and inspire. This habit is my subject.

Education in "thoughtfulness for others " properly begins at home. The child well-trained in a happy household soon awakens to find the pleasure of thinking for others. The love given, the pain others have, the partaken joys, a hundred things of daily life, when the rule of the household represses apartness and strengthens communion, develop it in ourselves and our children; and we gain and keep the habit of watching to