from the evil." All the good of earth might be enjoyed, but in subserviency to the interests of the spirit; all that is valuable in time might be possessed, but in subordination to the interests of eternity. When flesh and spirit, time and eternity, are placed in antagonism, then he taught that it is better to be poor, like Lazarus, and gain heaven, than rich like Dives, and fail of a true destiny. But what he sought was to reconcile earth and heaven, time and eternity, by bringing man's whole nature into harmony with God.

If further illustration is needed of the supreme place given to the spiritual in Christ's life and teaching, it may be found in the prayer which he taught his disciples. There is in it but one petition for earthly good, one day's supply of bread; nor is even this asked for until they are first taught to say, "Thy kingdom come; thy will be done in earth as it is done in heaven." With the kingdom of God established in power within us, so that the will of God shall be done cheerfully and unreservedly, the forgiveness of sins, power to conquer temptation, and protection from the wiles of the evil one, life is more than royal, even if there is but one day's supply of bread. But we shall require another chapter to unfold what we wish to offer on the spirituality of the gospel.

SPIRITUALITY.-CONCLUDED.

The thoughful reader will not object to lingering yet a little over this feature of the life and teaching of Jesus. Much depends on a proper understanding of it. Unless our eyes are opened to his spiritual charms, "he has no form nor comeliness, and when we see him there is no beauty that we should desire him." The fatal mistake of those who rejected him was in their eager desire for material greatness, for external attractions. They were looking for the kingdom to come with great outward display, and when they were told it was to be sought within them, they lost all interest in it. It is still, alas! the fatal mistake of the multitude. Magnificent temples, a pretentious and powerful hierarchy, a gorgeous ritual, the patronage of the wealthy, the intellectual, or the fashionable: these, with the many, are the kingdom of God. In some form or other the cry rings through Christian as through heathen lands, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." To all such worshipers, the true Christ is still a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense," as he was to the carnal of his own age. Let us beware.

The spirituality of the religion of Jesus is especially manifest in his perpetual recognition of the intimate relation between God and man, to subsist under his reign. First, his own relation, as a man-as the great representative man-to God, was most intimate and loving.

He constantly addresses God as Father. "No man hath seen God at any time. The only begotton Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him" (John i. 18). Reduce the meaning of this as much as you may by allusions to the ancient manner of reclining at meals-the most favored guest leaning, as it were, on the bosom of the master of the feastit still expresses a most loving intimacy between the man Christ Jesus and God. It was a new thing for humanity thus to nestle in the bosom of Deity, as a child in the bosom of its father. This was the supreme joy of Jesus in all, even the darkest, hours of his life. When the thick darkness of Gethsemane and Calvary was about to be entered, and he felt the chill and horror of it stealing over him, he said to his disciples, "The hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone and yet I am not alone-because the Father is with me" (John xvi. 32). While this joy remained, all griefs and sorrows could be borne without a murmur. How much it was to him, may be learned from the fact that the only bitter complaint he ever uttered was when, in the awful hour of expiation, his Father withdrew the light of his presence. Betrayal, false accusations, smitings, spittings, cross-bearing, the pains of crucifixion, the ribald jests and insults of the rabble, all were borne without a murmur. His only cry of anguish was "My God, my God! why hast thou forsaken me?" It was this abandonment that broke his heart. It was the one unendurable grief of his life. In all the persecutions of his foes, they never touched him where he lived. But this last sorrow struck at the very core of his life, and it was fatal. What an idea this

gives us of spiritual life! A man so happy, so perfectly blessed in the friendship and love of God, that he can endure all things while this is his, and nothing when this is withdrawn! This is just the picture of spiritual life that Jesus presents to us.

"But," you say, "this was the peculiar gift of Jesus as the Son of God. This is not for us." That, my brother, is just the fatal error of the petrified theology of the times. For the sake of killing Unitarianism, Christ has been petrified in the orthodox creeds as a Deity scarcely less awful or less distant from us than the Jehovah of the Old Testament. We do not say that this was meant to be so; but this is the practical result. The incarnation is interpreted into a Godhood which theological controvery perpetually exalts to an unapproachable distance, instead of a Godhood in partnership with manhood, which we can see and handle as the Word of Life, through which we may have fellowship with the Father. This is the error which freezes our piety and blasts our enjoyment, and which it is one of the special objects of these papers to dissipate. Listen, then, to the words of Jesus: "And the glory which thou gavest me I have given to them [that is to them who shall believe on me (ver. 20)], that they may be one, even as we are one" (John xvii. 22). And what was the glory which the Father had given to him? It was the glory of sonship. This was a peculiar glory. "We beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth" (John i. 14). “But was this glory given to him?" you are ready to ask. "Was he not always the only begotten, the everlasting Son of the Father?" We answer, No. He was the eternal Word, not the eternal Son.

"The Word made flesh" was the Son of God. "That holy thing which shall be born of thee," said the angel to Mary, "shall be called the Son of God" (Luke i. 35). The phrase "Son of God" does not express mere divinity, as is generally taught, but the union of divinity and humanity. The phrase "Son of man" implies divinity, since otherwise it would not be distinctive of Jesus more than of any other of our race. Just so, the phrase "Son of God" implies humanitya relation which Jesus sustains to God only by virtue of his assumption of human nature and human relationships.

Observe, now, that this glory of Sonship which the Father gave to Jesus, he in turn has given to his disciples. "The glory which thou gavest me I have given them." This accords with what we read (John i. 12): "As many as received him, to them gave he power to become sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." The phrase "sons of God," as used by our Lord, expresses no merely ritualistic or ecclesiastical relationship, but a veritable spiritual relationship. They are born of God, and by virtue of this birth are sons of God, "partakers of divine nature." And because they are sons, God sends forth the Spirit of his Son into their hearts, crying, Abba, Father (Gal. iv. 6). Thus they come into an actual spiritual oneness with Christ, partake of his life, and share his power. "The glory which thou gavest me, I have given them, that they may be one even as we are one." And that there may be no mistake about it, he adds, "I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one."