You remember how Christ likens the susceptible but shallow temperament to the thin layer of soil in which the seed springs up quickly, but, finding no depth of earth, cannot strike down its roots, so that the plant is scorched and withered by the sun. Thus is it with some whose feelings are touched by an eloquent sermon, a crowded audience, or a sweetly-sung hymn. They are captivated by the pleasant and beautiful aspects of divine truth, and so they even "receive the word with joy"; but by and bye, "when persecution ariseth because of the word," or when they find that faithfulness to Christ will involve self-denial and self-discipline, then "they are offended." No; it by no means follows, because your heart beats more rapidly, or your tears flow more readily under the preaching of the gospel or the singing of a hymn, that therefore you are more religious than your calmer neighbour. It may, perhaps, only show that your nerves are weaker, or your nature more emotional. We shall see what you are to-morrow, at business and at home-in honesty, and purity, and kindness, and self-control! Translate your emotions into deeds. we regard religion as a thing of mere feeling, then, when our moods fluctuate, or when we are somewhat roughly awakened by the stern realities of life, we are apt to lose our faith. It is one thing to sing sentiments about the Christian armour, or confidence in the heavenly Father, or victory over death; it is another thing altogether actually to fight down selfishness to trust God when your expectations are shattered and your home desolate or to be calm and hopeful at the very gates of death. And, indeed, one great danger of sentimentalism in

If

religion is the

danger of reaction into morbid despair. If we make too much of our own feelings, then, when from some cause or other feeling is low, we are apt to think that religion is gone. Whereas, God is still with us; and we are still to cling to Him, even in the darkness, and to serve Him by bearing and doing His will.

What shall we say, then? Shall we, because of these dangers of sentimentalism, resolve to despise sentiment? Shall we seek to crush impulse, to deaden sensibility to kill emotion? No. The culture of the feelings is part of a true human education. Imagination and emotion naturally and rightly play a most important part in the conduct of life. Your cold, hard, calculating man can never reach the heights either of goodness or of usefulness; and his passionless calculation may sometimes lead him far astray. The whole charm and power of certain words and deeds often lie in their being spontaneous. A man of noble

impulse will often feel, as by an instinct, what is the right thing to do, long before the phlegmatic calculator can reason it out. A man, moreover, is sometimes lifted high above dangerous rocks of temptation, and carried right over them, on the swelling tide of a pure emotion. A noble scorn of what is mean and base, considerate tenderness for the rights and feelings of others, will often be our best defence against the devil. What a different career King David's might have been, if only, at the crisis of his life, his soul had been filled with the same healthy sentiment of chivalry which led him to refuse the draught of water, brought from the Bethlehem-well at the risk of his comrades' blood! Life would be a poor thing, and virtue a cold,

bloodless thing, without pure impulse, and tender generosity, and the play of the imagination about our duties and relationships.

The true way, therefore, to guard against the dangers of sentimentalism is not to eradicate sentiment, but to balance it. The feelings are to be educated; but the other elements of our nature ought to be educated also. Even physical training is, from this point of view, not to be despised. Sentimentalism finds a congenial soil in weakened nerves; and muscular exercise will sometimes help to throw off unhealthy fancies. Then the will also ought to be trained to habits of resoluteness and decision. Selfwill, indeed, is a curse; and a strong will, in the absence of sensibility, may work tyrannically and cruelly; but, considered in itself, a strong will is a blessing, and gives power of self-control. Then, the intellect also ought to be educated. A well-instructed

and well-disciplined mind is an admirable balance to the emotions. Let our girls, after they leave school, still devote some time, if possible, to systematic study, to mathematics, or language, or science, something that will really discipline the powers of thought. Our religion also ought to be intelligent. The Bible ought to be read and studied. We ought to be able to give a reason for the hope that is in us," and our actions ought to be guided by judgment, and not merely by impulse. Finally, the conscience ought to be educated into sensitiveness and strength. This is the grand protection against sentimentalism. We need feeling, to help us in the doing of that which is right and good; but the all-important matter is to have a well-trained

moral sense, pointing us ever in the direction of practical duty, rebuking us when we neglect it or come short of it, bidding us test our feelings by our deeds, and ask ourselves whether we are really "keeping" and obeying the "word of God."

MEEKNESS.

[Re-written 1889.]

OUR word "meek" seems now-a-days to need redeeming. Whatever the reason may be, the word does not hold the place which it used to hold in the Christian vocabulary. We rather fight shy of it as a term of praise. To speak of any one-especially of any man-as being "meek," seems now-a-days to carry with it a certain flavour of disparagement, not to say of contempt. Whilst the "grand old name of gentleman" holds its own as a designation of honour in universal estimation, there are not many "gentlemen" who would thank you for calling them “meek men! No doubt this is partly owing to the conventional meaning of the word "gentleman" as it is commonly used in society. Conventionally—and indeed etymologically also-the gentleman is not so much the man of gentleness as the man of gentility— the man of good birth and good breeding. There is many a European "gentleman," who, if you were to say that he is not a gentleman, would at once proceed to vindicate his right to the name by demanding the opportunity of killing you in a duel! Meekness and gentleness are qualities of heart-graces of character :