rather than the golden eagle. What the Apostle means by loving the world, and the things of the world, is, loving them supremely and making them a standard; measuring from the ground of worldly sanction and interest, up to the supreme right.

Sometimes men's compliance with the injunction in the text amounts simply to a negative-to not loving. A great many succeed in that-in not loving; that is about the essence of their lives and their religion. They do not love this, and they do not love that. They do not love this amusement; they do not love this kind of people; they do not love that class of Christians. The whole of their faith and righteousness is a sour asceticism. Their piety is ghastly; their philanthropy is mechanical; their love of souls is an effort, and not spontaneous-a galvanic twitch of the muscles, rather than the inspiration of the heart. When I contrast the loving Jesus, comprehending all things in his ample and tender charity, with those who profess to bear his name, marking their zeal by what they do not love, it seems to me as though men, like the witches of old, had read the Bible backward, and had taken incantations out of it for evil, rather than inspiration for good. Not loving-that is not the measure of the text. This self-conceited standard of our own righteousness-this sour, hateful, narrow asceticism, is just as much of the world as anything else. It is of the world, and does not answer to the requisition which is really set forth in the text.

No, my friends, we are to measure from the love of the Father downward-not from the love of worldly advantage and sanction upward. That is the real meaning of the text. Loving the Father supremely, we shall know what to love as he loves, and we shall see everything in the relation in which he sees it. From his all-comprehending affection we shall go forth to see everything truly, and to love everything as we ought to love it. Then we shall love the world of nature, because God Almighty made it; because it was pronounced by him very good; because it is a manifestation of his wisdom, of his power, of his constant beneficence. Our loving not the world will be not to love the evil, but to love the good-to be filled to overflowing with the Divine spirit. We shall then behold all nature as an outward expression of God's love-a continual offering to his name—the drapery of his manifestation-a temple filled with his own presWe shall love the world of humanity; we shall love all good and right things, because we shall start from the love that is in him.

ence.

What do the Scriptures say of God's love? He so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son for it. Christ so loved man that he came to die for him. Surely there is no antagonism here-no collision of truths. When the Apostle says, "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world," he certainly means that we shall understand him in accordance with the fact that God loved the world, and

so loved it that He sent His Son to die for it; that Christ did so love mankind that he poured out his precious blood and sacrificed his life for them. Does not this show you at once, that in order to properly understand the text we should start right? Start with the love of the Father, and you will love all things in their order, in their degree, in their proper relations. Start with the love of the world, and you will love things unwisely and falsely. You will hold the expedient superior to the right. You will often take the wrong when you should take the right. You will often love the evil when you should love the good. Start with the love of the Father, love Him supremely, and the world, and the things that are in the world, will fall into their proper place. Every daily duty, every daily care, every common interest-your homes, your toils, your trials, will all be loved by you in due proportion, because you will read in them the Father's meaning, and you will see them in their true relations and signifi

cance.

And still again: when we start from this ground of love we learn to distinguish the essence of things from the outside of things. We love the world and the things in the world in contrast to the love of the Father, when we love that which is external merely. When, for instance, a man becomes so enamored of nature that he forgets the God who made it; when all science is merely an accumulation of dead facts; when he looks upon nature in such a way that he feels that the

stone made God rather than God the stone; when all creation becomes to him nothing but mineral, vegetable, and animal matter; when death becomes an eternal sleep; when he sees not the foot-prints of the Almighty in the way-marks of Geology; when he touches not the pulses of the infinite in the motions of the worlds, but all is a dead blank and all traces of God have vanished, then man has that love of the world, and of the things that are in it, which is condemned by the Apostle.

So, too, a man may love humanity simply on its outside for its advantage to him-merely for that which is pleasing to him, not in its essence. Jesus Christ did not look at the outside of men. He did not love humanity as high or low, rich or poor. He did not love it as turning toward him an aspect of kindness and friendliness, but as turning to him often an aspect of enmity and scorn. Men are ready enough in their protestations concerning humanity, ready enough to say how much they love the world at large, and yet they do not love a single individual enough to do as Christ did-to lay down their life for that individual. There is the test which he made of his supreme love that he so loved his friends, nay, so loved his enemies, that he laid down his life for them. We admire the old classic story of Damon and Pythias, and consider it wonderful that a man was ready to lay down his life for another. We extol the patriot's love, and regard it as a noble thing he should pour out

his blood for the good of his country. We revere the martyr, and esteem it a glorious act that he will stand up amid the red flame and endure the terrible torture for the cause of truth. But, my friends, that is as far, I suppose, as humanity has ever gone, unless it is from the peculiar inspiration of Jesus Christ. He went further than this. He not only died for his friends, but he laid down his life for his enemies. He laid down his life for the very men that were piercing and crucifying him. He laid it down for denying Peter, for traitorous Judas, for men in all ages who have denied his name or rejected his love. There is the glory of Jesus Christ. He looked into humanity as a divine essence-an emanation from God. He saw it in its priceless worth and died for it—not for its relations to him of friendliness, or kindness, or love, or service, or beauty, or use, but for its intrinsic worth and preciousness.

That is the way to love humanity. Not because it serves us, not because it is pleasant to us, not because it is friendly to us. That is a very little thing. How sour men get by-and-by who love it on that account! The generous youth, who was ready to go to distant lands to serve humanity, by-and-by becomes a bitter misanthrope. He has no faith in the world, no trust in men. His nature becomes covered with a thick film of contempt and despair. Why? Simply because men have not turned out quite as good as he thought they would. Because they have often