universal principle. His soul is full of it. It must overflow upon every partner of the common humanity with whom he comes in contact. It will bathe and lave every hand he touches.

Let us accompany this friend as he goes out to make some trifling purchase. He is himself in trade perhaps, and understands that a man who lives by trade must have a fair profit. He sells on that principle. How does he buy? He calls for the article he wishes and examines it, as though disapprovingly. He asks the price. "What, so much for this?" His tone is offensive to a sensitive mind. Perhaps he remarks that he does not wonder that the sellers of this sort of ware get rich. He examines the article again, with increasing disapprobation. But there is no abatement of the price. He depreciates the quality of the material, the quality of the work, the style and taste of the goods, while all the time it is the thing he wants. He says plainly and bluntly, "You must take less." "You ask too much." "I can't give it." He is told finally that he is at liberty to leave it if he does not care to take. But that does not suit him. He wants it, and he wants to beat the seller down. He wants to get it at a cheaper price. He wants to feel that he has made a good bargain. He seems to forget that there are two of them that have the natural desire to secure a fair trade. He lingers yet and picks flaws, and half turns away and turns back and urges fresh subtractions from the value of the goods, and pushes hard for a reduction of price. It is not a very pleasant scene. I am sorry to detain you in it. At last the man is gone, paying down

his reluctant money. The seller has a little heightened color on his face. He turns to us and remarks, "That customer is said to be a member so and so of such a church. I wonder what sort of religion they hold there. I desire never to see the man in my store again."

Well, we might call on domestics in families to testify to the impression which religious masters and mistresses make on them. on them. We might call on a wife to give in evidence, if she only would, as to the sort of heart in a Christian husband that beats against her own. We might call on clerks and employees to stand up as witnesses and say how an intense Christianity develops in their direction.

But these points have been pushed far enough. Oh, it is so sorrowful that when we see Christ's vesture we cannot be sure that his lineaments are there too! It is so sad that those whose names are fairly written out on the roll of the church do under the Christian cloak what brings indelible reproach upon the Christian religion! matter of such deep, deep searching of ourselves that, on the garments of Christ, and having, as we hum

having

It is a

bly believe, something of the spirit of Christ, there may yet be so many things in us, such inconsiderate moments and actions, that a keen-eyed world protests, "We see the garments of Jesus, but we don't see anything else that

is like him.'

Oh, I beseech you, let the Church be searched to-day. If we keep underneath and mean to keep the qualities and practices of a worldly, greedy, and selfish spirit, let us strip off to the last fibre the vesture of the Master, that the reproach come upon humanity, and not upon the doc

trine of Jesus. And if we wish a blessing upon us here in our Christian work, let us do more than run to and fro with swift-footed zeal, let us rectify our lives, put away every evil thing, find the dead flies in the ointment and extract them, for Christ wants clean hands as well as a fervent spirit to minister in the holy things of his altars.

VIII.

CHRIST'S CUP.

BUT JESUS ANSWERED AND SAID, YE KNOW NOT WHAT YE ASK. ARE YE ABLE TO DRINK OF THE CUP THAT I SHALL DRINK OF, AND TO BE BAPTIZED WITH THE BAPTISM THAT I AM BAPTIZED WITH? THEY SAY UNTO HIM, WE ARE ABLE. - Matt. xx. 22.

NUCH is human nature, even in discipleship, that it

SUCH

was certain that sooner or later the hearts of the chosen twelve would feel the temptation to human ambition. True, in the world's eyes, the Leader, whose person and fortunes they followed, was an obscure provincial, a man of no name or mark or rank, from a lowly family, a despised Galilean, concerning whose claims to honor and respectability it was enough to ask the contemptuous question, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" To acknowledge him was to lose caste in Jewish society; to follow him, so far from quickening any ambitious aspirations, seemed rather the final crucifixion of pride. But the disciples knew more and better concerning the dignity of "the Nazarene." In their eyes he was an uncrowned king. The day of his coronation was not distant. The throne of his father David was his. He should sit and reign in a state more magnificent than

Solomon's. Where and what this kingdom was to be were questions upon which they had vague notions. Sometimes to their eyes its wide borders swept around the hills of Canaan, defied and repelled the assaults of Roman power, and their own Jerusalem was its royal capital. Sometimes it took on a more celestial beauty and grandeur, and was a kingdom not of this world; but Jesus was its Prince; that lowly head should wear this peerless diadem. And what should they be, they who walked with this heir of royalty every day, who shared all his privacy, who companioned him under reproach and ignominy, whom he called his friends, whom he had himself elected to be with him and to compose his retinue, who were the only hearts on earth that showed him kindness and believed in his future? Would he not have royal gifts for them? As he rose into these high places of empire, should they not rise with him? Should they not be nearest his person, most illustrious in distinction of all who should then do him homage, be his councillors and senate, and share his kingliness as they had shared his lowliness? And which of them should be first and foremost in this coming elevation? Probably these questions found secret audience in each heart of this little band, and these visions of greatness floated before every eye. If there was an exception, it may have been the heart of him surnamed "Iscariot!" One strong, overmastering passion excludes, or at least subordinates, every other. There are not two monarchs of the heart. Avarice ruled in the breast of Judas! Fill his bag for him, and others might come between him and either side