But we should feel that this is inadequate. There is a closer relationship if we can but express it. Perhaps we may approach it thus. Our individualism is not absolute: we are not units, we are linked by myriad ties of heredity to the generations that precede. These links constitute the family, the nation, the race; and in some way there are spiritual links that bind all our souls together in one life, a life which proceeds ultimately from Christ the Son of God, who is the Head and Fount of all life. The origin of our spiritual unity is the fact that our spirits are derivatives from one origin, and that origin the Christ "that lighteth every man that cometh into the world." But in such thoughts we soon lose ourselves: and such thoughts are not necessary to the life of true religion and the life in Christ.

I have spoken of brotherliness to man, and sonship to God, as the source of the great religious impulse that we are all more or less feeling. Now the advantage, in practice, of clearly understanding the nature of the great impulse at work amongst us is this. It gives confidence. It enables us to estimate the conflicting tendencies at work. It shews us how the main stream is setting, and enables us to avoid the backwaters and stagnant pools. You ask yourself instinctively how this or that bears on these great principles. And you will find this test useful in solving many a perplexity: it will prevent your wasting years on experiments that must prove barren.

Take, for example, questions of Church parties, or of taking orders. The real question is, How can I best express and stimulate in others the feeling of brotherhood in Christ? If vestments and rituals and sacerdotal claims-unknown to Christ and His followers-if these and similar survivals from a darker age best represent the brotherhood of man and Fatherhood of God, and rouse pure brotherly conduct in those who witness them, let us have them, in God's name. If brass bands, and street processions, and Hallelujah hymns develop the feeling of brotherhood better, I am for the brass bands and the streets. If good schools, and charity organizations, and "White Cross Armies," and workmen's clubs, and cheap concerts, and recreation grounds, and Artizans' Dwellings Acts are the better way, let us strive to get them by

all means. For if you have one strong guiding principle, like that of realizing brotherhood, you will welcome any work which tends in this direction; and not shut yourself up in a sour religionism, or not less sour anti-religionism. An enthusiasm for a great cause makes you cheerfully tolerate, and even sympathize and co-operate with minor enthusiasms if they tend aright. It gives room for wide diversities of good life, such as do exist, and it effaces the false distinction of the religious and the secular.

But the true brotherly mind will find a more excellent way than is found in any of these alone.

"The sense of kinship adds an indescribable wholesomeness and brightness to our religion. It often takes us years to shake off the belief that somehow grasps us in youth, that religion consists in a certain attitude of mind, into which we must force ourselves by some external influence: that certain postures of body or of mind are worship. We have yet to learn that the Opnokɛía kalapá is charity, and unworldliness, and purity, that the only ritual which is of the essence of Christianity, is the attitude and posture of a brother among his brothers, in the presence of the eternal Father of all nature and all mankind. It gives a practical, though unattainable ideal of life. It strikes at impurity (ådeλphy ris μoixévσel); at unselfishness; at frivolity; at the weary melancholy of life. It overcomes evil with good. It harmonizes our scale of virtues. Generosity, brotherliness, ought to be high in the scale: we know they ought, and they are so. It makes a gentleman and a Christian more nearly synonymous terms than they have sometimes been, because it affects our conception both of the ideal gentleman and the ideal Christian. Both of them are the ideal brother.

And here I must conclude. These final years of the century are full of hope and promise. For this truth is laying its grasp on the young, and ennobles all on whom it lays its grasp, and you may live to see it shining forth in strength and purity.

But beware of the foes of this truth. Everything that keeps us from saying "Our Father" in all its fulness and simplicity and universality; all views of wealth, whether of money, or

power, or intellect, other than as a trust held for the brotherhood: all selfishness; all exaggeration of religion in the direction of either cultus or dogma; all these are foes.

And there is one mistake which you may make a generous mistake, but one which may, nevertheless, mar your usefulness for many a year. It is the mistake of thinking that brotherliness will do without Christ. Let me tell you a true story that I heard yesterday. It contains the whole matter. Some of the best and ablest of the students at a Women's College opened a class for teaching the poorest of the men in a neglected suburb. They were fired by the noblest impulse, to give themselves to work for their unfortunate brothers. They read to them, they taught them reading and writing, they sang to them, and the men gathered to them in increasing numbers. After some months they asked the men whether there was anything in particular that they wanted to hear more about. There was silence; and then a low inaudible voice was heard from among them. One of the men went up to the speaker: "What was it you wished specially to hear about?" she asked. "Could you tell us," he replied, "something about the Lord Jesus Christ?" This story needs no comment.

Such, O young men of Cambridge, is the deep-seated and universal power which is discernible on all sides, as the motive power of goodness springing from God Himself; the hope of humanity, the goal of moral evolution, and central truth of revelation: it is the sonship to God and brotherhood of man, unveiled and made intelligible to men, "at sundry times and in divers manners,” and chiefly in the person of Jesus Christ. Now we can but grope for words, and our tongues stammer with the greatness of the thought. But you are young, and "to be young is very heaven;" for you may live to see this thought find a voice you may yourselves give this thought a voice. Who should give it a voice if not you in your wealth and strength and happiness? And you may see the world re-echo it as the truth it has waited for and looked for so long. Till then pray we with ever fuller meaning to Our Father in Heaven.

J. M. WILSON, M.A.,

Head Master of Clifton College, and Chaplain to the Bishop of Exeter.

Germs of Thought.

Human Sympathy Superseded by Divine.
(A New Year's Meditation.)

“AND YET I AM NOT ALONE, BECAUSE THE FATHER IS WITH ME." -John xvi. 32. (R.V.)

OUR Lord's valedictory discourse is in three portions. The first contains reasons for His departure, and the promise of the Comforter. The second, the abiding union between Himself and His disciples. And the third, the renewed promise of the Comforter, and of His own return. Our text occurs at the close of the third part. He has rebuked the despondency of His disciples, alluded to in the words :-"Sorrow hath filled your heart; " He has told them that the coming of the Holy Spirit is dependent on the return of the Redeemer to Heaven-"It is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I go, I will send Him unto you:" that by His coming the world will be convinced, the disciples fully instructed, especially in the knowledge of their Lord-"I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now:" that then He will Himself speedily come again, to end their sorrows, to complete and perpetuate their joy; giving them perfect knowledge, and intimate access to the Father. Then, at the close, our Lord appeals to their faith in His heavenly origin—"I came out from the Father, and am come into the world: again, I leave the world, and go unto the Father." As if He had said:-"You believe the former of these truths, namely, that I came hither from heaven. Is not the latter equally credible? Shall I not return thither?" At the same time He checks their confidence in the sufficiency of their present faith to meet all emergencies. "Jesus answered them, Do ye not believe? Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is 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."

Here, then, the theme suggested is that our Lord, although deprived of all the usual supports of friendship and sympathy, and deserted by all visible companions, is yet spiritually upheld, and is even brought into closer communion with His Father:— "And yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me." Three thoughts are suggested by these words: First, Human sympathy is helpful, and not to be disregarded. Second, Human sympathy, although helpful, is insufficient for human needs. Third, Human sympathy is superseded by Divine.

I. HUMAN SYMPATHY IS HELPFUL, AND IS NOT TO BE DISREGARDED. Pity, compassion, and sympathy, are sometimes used as if their meaning were identical. The first two resemble each other very nearly in their significations; still, there is a shade of difference. "Pity" often implies an approach to contempt; "compassion" has more of tenderness in it. We may speak of pitying the wicked, or the hopelessly foolish: we only speak of compassionating those into whose feelings we can enter, and whose actions we may conceive ourselves performing. Again, "compassion" is sometimes felt for imaginary sorrows; "pity" seldomer. Sympathy" implies more of fellow-feeling than either of the other terms, and is not restricted to subjects of pain, but may be equally felt for the pleasures of others. A certain degree of equality in station, age, mind, or qualities, is essential. We have greater sympathy with one who is nearly an equal.

"The human countenance smiles on those who smile, and weeps with those who weep," are words expressive of human sympathy. There is not a doubt that fellow-feeling is a source of most real consolation in loneliness and sorrow, and serves also to sweeten one another's joys. Experience and observation alike bear testimony to the fact that human sympathy is helpful, and is not to be disregarded. The fellow-feeling resultant from our larger or smaller circle of friendships is an element of joy.

In the work of life, for instance, how helpful is the sympathetic chord of brotherhood which vibrates through two natures. The