The world, taking it as a whole, has a very true sense of justice in all these cases. Whatever may be the outward differences of rank, and position, and circumstances, there is still in the bosom of all a secret sense of equality, founded upon our common humanity. The beggar receiving alms from a prince, knows that it is not only his duty, but his right, to return the kindness shown him, whenever it shall be in his power. To accept a favour without the recognition of this right, is to be degraded justly in our own eyes; and if, when the beggar offers his acknowledgments, whether by word or action, he is rejected, the pride which rejects neutralises the kindness shown, and it ceases to be kindness, and becomes an oppressive obligation.

The same principle is true with regard to feeling. We may devote ourselves to labours of selfdenying love; we may spend our fortune in charity, give up our time to education, exhaust our strength by working amongst the poor, even show the greatest comprehension of their distresses, and, after all our labours, find that we have failed to gain affection, and scarcely extorted gratitude, because the obligation is all on one side. We have never allowed it to be seen that we also have sorrows; that we, like them, can suffer from anxiety and grief; that we shrink from bodily pain, and grow weary with earthly disappointments. We have laboured amongst them as amongst beings of a different nature, and they return us the cold ex

pression of their thankfulness, but they give us no place in their hearts.

Sympathy must be reciprocal; when it is not, it ceases to be sympathy, and becomes compassion; and compassion alone can never touch the heart, and make it thrill with love and thankfulness.

There are mysteries infinitely beyond our understanding connected with the Redemption of man, and we dare not say that aught which has been done might have been effected by other means. Yet we can imagine the pity of the Almighty touched by the misery of His fallen creatures, and His compassion planning their salvation, without the full exhibition of that oneness of nature which was shown in our Saviour's human life. He might have descended upon earth, dwelt among us, and even died for us, and we might have recognised Him as God, without having learned to feel for Him as man.

The love inspired by such a recognition would have been very different from that which the thought of Him inspires now. If the sighs which told the bitterness of His heart as He pursued His earthly labours had never escaped His breast,'if the tears which fell at the grave of Lazarus had never been shed, if the yearning which made Him cling to human affection while conscious of its powerlessness to save, had never betrayed itself in the mournful question, "Will

ye

also go away ?"—and if, in the last tremendous scenes of His life, there had been no confession

of exceeding sorrow, no entreaty that the eye of His earthly friends would watch for Him in His lonely misery, should we have loved him as we do now? He bids the weary and heavy laden come to Him. Would they then have been able to obey the call without a misgiving? Doubts might surely have arisen, fears, hesitations. Pride might even have whispered, that He who professed to aid them could have no real comprehension of their necessities ; that when He bade them take His yoke upon them, He desired a service for His own honour, and not for their good. If the cross had not been acknowledged as suffering by our Lord, should any of us have had the courage to take it up and follow him?

These may seem to be imaginative sugges tions, and to have but little bearing upon daily life ; but the tone of mind which shows itself so opposed to that of our Redeemer, though less frequent, is perhaps more dangerous than the weak giving way under suffering, which is universally reprobated. It dignifies itself indeed by many names,-reserve, fastidiousness, fortitude. It is compatible with many most valuable qualities;—with real strength of mind, self-discipline, an unwearied exercise of compassion,-but, hard though it may seem to say so, it is, when wilfully permitted and indulged, based upon pride. The essence of unselfishness is to accept from others that which we would wish to offer, as well as to give that which we desire to receive. We can never have any lasting influence

upon the human heart unless we act upon this principle, and though to strive after influence is in itself a fatal error, yet we are all answerable if we neglect the means of exercising it. A mother loves the child who depends upon her for every earthly comfort, but so also the child loves the mother because it feels itself necessary to her happiness. Even in the relationship the farthest removed as it might seem, from such a necessity, there must be, therefore, a reciprocity of obligation, for the growth of human affection.-And how much more so in other cases?

Unreserve, simple and true, is always winning. And when we reject sympathy, and shut ourselves up in silent, unapproachable endurance, we close the door to unknown opportunities of usefulness, and repel the hearts which might otherwise, through God's help, be assisted by us on their way to Heaven.

87

TEMPTATION.

ST. LUKE, Xxii. 31-34.

"And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren. And he said unto Him, Lord, I am ready to go with Thee, both into prison and to death. And He said, I tell thee, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day, before that thou shalt thrice deny that thou knowest Me."

OUR Blessed Lord prayed that St. Peter's faith might not fail, and it did not eventually. The immediate fall was foreseen, for Jesus adds, "And when thou art converted strengthen thy brethren;" evidently implying that the Apostle's present state of mind must lead him into sin.

This consideration may give us comfort when our own prayers against sin are not immediately answered, especially when temptations are not taken away. No doubt the experience of temptation is one means, and a very important one, of teaching us how to "strengthen our brethren;" and so far we may be well contented to submit to it; and, looking back upon our past lives, there are probably few of us who are now, in any degree, striving to win others into the right way, who would not own that our past conflicts, even when