the fine instincts and processes of the spiritual nature. Bienstock found that the soil of the strawberry beds in his garden contained the bacilli of tetanus; not less perilous are the tempting grounds of sensational indulgence in all directions, the delicate delights of the flesh subtly poisoning the soul. Our Lord gives not the remotest sanction to this ideal of life. "Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on." And the whole course of Christ's career and teaching showed that, wherever ultimate satisfaction is found, it must not be sought in sensual and sensuous things.

On the other hand, our Lord was no ascetic. The ascetic has no more right to claim the Sermon on the Mount than the epicurean has. We cannot truly consider and estimate this vast, rich world, and conclude that the ascetic ideal harmonizes with the order of creation. These multitudinous things of beauty and sweetness were certainly designed for enjoyment. It is impossible to believe that the opulent and glorious world is merely a soul-trap, and that the riches of the climates and seasons partake of the nature of temptation. An ingenious horticulturist is at this moment busy attempting to improve certain aspects of nature: he has created a spineless cactus, made scentless species of plants odoriferous, and even those with a naturally disagreeable odour like the dahlia to produce the sweet perfume of the magnolia. From mere weeds he has educed new and magnificent blooms and fruits;

and, finally, he has charmed into being an everlasting flower. But if the ascetic conception of life be correct, our efforts ought to be in an opposite direction. We should labour to reduce the glory of the world-to drive out the painted birds by the sparrow, to substitute the croak of the raven for the song of the nightingale, to infect the rose with the scent of fungi, and by earth-born fogs to sober the sunshine into sadness. Could we be guilty of such an effort, it would manifestly identify us with the insane who betray their malady by fiercely uprooting any flower that may happen to spring within their reach. Jesus Christ gave no countenance to this morbid ideal. His appreciation of the lily showed His pure sense of beauty, the turning of the water into wine at the wedding-feast His sympathy with the festive sentiment; the acceptance of the breaking of the alabaster box of spikenard implied a legitimate use of luxury. Taking His place at the table of the rich Pharisee, He consecrated the social entertainment; going forth "out of the city every evening" identified Him with suburban life; by His friendship with the household of Bethany domesticity was rendered sacred; and the soldiers casting lots for the seamless robe by a sudden side-light shows that even the dress of our Lord was not without beauty and value. The Master's teaching corresponded with His personal habits; it contains no suspicion of scepticism touching the beauty and joy of human life. He who clothed the lilies like Solomon does not design to

dress His children like Jeremiah, and the mission of Jesus Christ was not to destroy the natural law, but to fulfil it. The genius of our Lord diffused through the whole of the Gospels a delightful and an unmistakable aroma of pure humanity, which is absolutely absent from the atmosphere of asceticism.

What, then, did our Lord teach respecting pleasure? That whilst it is legitimate, a necessity arising out of the very constitution of things, it must not be the first or chief object of life. "Seek ye first His kingdom, and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." The thought of enjoyment must not become the loadstone of life, but the sense of duty in the sight of God. True character, that is Christian. character, must be clearly seen, passionately desired, and sought after through any and every sacrifice. The faith of Jesus Christ does not demand that we disregard the ordinary desires, affections, and appetites of human nature, but that we condition all our natural human propensities by the claims of a divine righteousness. He does not put His disciples into the painful position of contradicting the riches and loveliness of the creation. He does not discredit the great factors of civilization-wealth, culture, and enjoyment; nor does He attempt to uproot those instincts for power, knowledge, and pleasure which are deeply planted in our nature: but He enjoins righteousness as the primal and cardinal solicitude of the soul, and promises that wherever holiness of thought and conduct is main

tained all things of beauty, love, and joy shall follow. The love of righteousness protects from whatever is false, base, or selfish in pleasure. The love of righteousness enables us to regulate the whole sphere of legitimate things and their uses, to find the always delicate line of moderation. The love of righteousness secures ineffable peace and blessedness when natural delights cease and the last rose of life's summer lies withered and dead.

Whatever jeopardizes purity and temperance, and wars with high thinking, whatever qualifies one's power for good, gratifies the lower self and life at the expense of the upper, and sullies thought and feeling, let it be sternly and promptly renounced. Pleasure divorced from truth and purity is a mocking lie. "Glory, honour, and peace to every man that worketh good." Purity, sceptred queen, leads on the gay pageant; the virgins her companions-smiling quiet, jewelled honour, plenty with both hands full, the sisterhood of beauty, rosy mirth, song and sport, flower-crowned love-follow after. The less we fetter ourselves with rules and vows the better; the more entirely we walk in the power and freedom of the Spirit the better. "All things are ours"; and the truest and safest way to possess our possessions is to fear God, drink deeply into the spirit of our Master, keep the soul strong and clear, and to recognize vividly and hourly the claims of high character, noble duty, and the service of our generation.

VIII

THE MASTER-FORCE IN CHARACTER AND CIVILIZATION

And everything shall live whither the river cometh.-EZEK. xlvii. 9.

TH

HE prophet beholds in vision a stream issuing from the Temple buildings, and flowing eastwards until it falls into the Dead Sea, making even those fatal waters rich with life. In the first instance this mystic river was a symbol of the miraculous transformation which the pious Jew expected the land of Canaan to undergo in order to fit it for the habitation of Jehovah's ransomed people. The prophets cherished the expectation that one day, when Israel was wholly obedient, God would renew the face of nature, and all Palestine would blossom like the rose. This mystic stream, however, demands a larger interpretation. The thought of Israel anticipated the time when the Messiah would send forth a tide of living influence through the nations, cleansing their corruptions, and making everything in human life and society to realize its ideal. The seer of Patmos gives the final significance of Ezekiel's vision: "And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crys