Find that light in the midst of the darkness. This grief of yours, this bitter experience, even this spiritual failure, is all a means of ministry. True, you have been in the depths of doubt, but you are the better able to lift up your brother into the sight of the sun. True, you have sinned; your cheeks are crimson and your eyes are downcast at the memory of it; but here is your opportunity: you can go with fulness of fellow-feeling to your sinning brother, and persuade him by your own experience. True, you are the prisoner of the Lord, shut up within the walls of a contracted environment and narrow opportunities, with little education and less money, altogether commonplace, you think, and foolish and incapable; but so you are just on a level with all the rest of us commonplace people, and can so much the better show us an example that we can hope to follow. We will listen to you, for you are one of us.

Thus our experiof which we are

ence, even that part of it ashamed, is but our preparation for effective service.

Now see how St. Paul, having this love of his brethren in his heart, and this sympathetic understanding of them by reason of the experiences of his life, see how he addresses them.

He reminds them of their vocation, of their high calling, and begs them simply to be worthy of it.

Not a word here about their sins. They had sins, plenty of them. They were most imperfect Christians, those early converts. And Paul could rebuke them sharply enough upon occasion. But here he sets them all aside. He holds up their ideal, tells them what God expects of them, suggests the undeveloped possibilities that are in them. He helps them to be good by taking it for granted that they want to be good, and that they can be.

It is remarkable how Jesus, addressing himself for the most part to people who never went to church, who professed no regard for religion, who habitually broke the commandments, ignorant, sinful, outcasts from the respectable society of their time, never used any condescension with them, never talked down to them, never scolded them, but took it always for granted that they were in sympathy with him, and that they were ever so much better than they appeared to be. He told those sunburned, ragged fishermen on the Capernaum wharves, and those sinful women of the Capernaum streets, that they were the sons and the daughters of the Most High God.

And they believed him. And then they began to consider whether they were living the sort of life that would befit the nobility of heaven, the family of God.

If we are to help men as Jesus helped them, as Paul helped them, we must begin by believing in them; then they will begin to believe in themselves. We must recognize the men and women of the back alleys as children of the eternal Father, called by him, beloved by him. Unless human nature has greatly changed since Jesus lived here, it is altogether likely that a good many of these people are really better Christians in the sight of God, and nearer to the kingdom of heaven, than we are. It was the respectable people, such as us, amongst whom the Master found no welcome when he came. It will not do to go on missionary journeys into the lanes and courts as if we alone cared for righteousness and truth, bearing the impudent lantern of Diogenes. We must go very humbly, looking for good, and not doubting that we will find it; as fellow-servants, as brethren of the same household.

And our speech must be not so much of sin as of vocation, bringing hope and encouragement and the blessed sunlight with us.

Better

ment comes when a man turns his face in expectation towards the dawn. Not renunciation, but resolution, is the spiritual secret. Let a man once come to realize that good things are expected of him, and that he has that in him which can meet the expectation, and you will not need to reproach him, to drive him with sharp words into the kingdom of heaven. He will go in gladly, of his own accord.

You have a high calling, walk worthy of it. That is the message that we need. God is our Father. Beloved, now are we the sons of God. Are we behaving like the sons of God? Our life last week, was it a noble life, a worthy life, considering our birth, our position, and our possibilities? Was there anything divine in it? And to-morrow, as we take it up again, how are we intending to live it? What have we in mind, we children of God, to do to-morrow? What sort of neighbors, citizens, housekeepers, tradespeople, employers, will we be? "With all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in love, endeavoring to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of how will that description fit our life?

peace,

THE MAN WITH THE MEASURING

LINE.

"I lifted up mine eyes and saw, and behold a man with a measuring line in his hand. Then said I, Whither goest thou? And he said, To measure Jerusalem, to see what is the breadth thereof, and what is the length thereof."-ZECH. ii. 1, 2.

THE name of the man with the measuring line is Calculation. He goes out carrying his surveyor's chain, to make his accurate estimate of our enthusiastic plans.

We have in mind a fine ideal, an inspiring task worth doing. We know that it is right, and for the benefit of the neighborhood, and in line with the purposes of God. But it is hard to do, and we begin to consider it more soberly. And the longer we think, the greater seems the difficulty. We send out the man with the measuring line, and he comes back and makes his discouraging report, so many miles, so many years, so many dollars, so many mountain ranges of hindrance. And we lose heart.

He

Evidently there must be calculation. who would build a tower must count the cost.