THE LOVING MONK. 299 be infinitely poorer, and immeasurably more helpless, for the destruction of any one of them. From these thoughts you will infer that I do not attach much importance to uniformity. Certainly I am not disposed to idolize it. I am not clear that it is at all desirable, and I am sure that it would not be at the cost of mental liberty. As I view the case, the last thing to be attempted is an artificial and constrained union of churches. Instead of talking a great deal about it, and proposing impossible schemes for its realization, we had better simply study to be right in faith and practice, and leave to God and to His providence the ultimate solution of the problem. He knows what is best for His people and the world, and He will doubtless, in His own way and time, bring about whatever of structural union is necessary for the final triumph of His kingdom. In the meanwhile let the heart be kept clear of bitterness and discord, and let the hand place no stumbling-block in a brother's way because his creed in some of its articles is different. Let good feeling and true fellowship be cultivated, and we shall then not be unprepared and unfitted to cooperate with God, who is, I am persuaded, working out by these diversities a grander and sublimer union in the spiritual than He has already effected, and by similar processes, in the physical. Somewhere I have read of two monks who had never quarreled or disagreed, but had lived for years in sweetest amity and peace. At last one suggested that they should have a falling out after the pattern of the world. But the other replied that he knew not how to quarrel, and that he did not understand how to perform his part. "Well," said the first monk, "we will put this brick between us, and you shall say, 'It is mine,' and I will say, 'It is mine,' and so we will gradually grow heated contending." With smiling faces the simple-hearted brethren prepared to enter the arena of debate. "It is mine," said the first, sternly; "It is mine," said the second, falteringly; "Yea, again I declare it is mine," responded the first, solemnly; "Then take it," lovingly answered the second. Brethren, I do not say that this spirit is always possible; but something kindred to it is what God expects. It is not for Christian denominations to wrangle and contend, each madly alive to its own little interests, and careless of the interests of the others. "Mine and thine" should lose their significance with them, and they should be ready with loving accord to yield to each other, and to bear each other's burdens. We shall never recognize what is grand and good in our neighbors, and we shall be blind to their claims on our fellowship, if we fail to cultivate this spirit of gentle amity. Ruskin shows very eloquently the sad effects of anarchy and competition in a piece of common mud. The elements which compose it " are at helpless war with each other, and destroy reciprocally each other's nature and power; competing and fighting for place at every tread of your foot; sand squeezing out clay, and clay squeezing out water, and soot meddling everywhere, and defiling the whole." Such, also, is the dreary outcome of sectarian jealousies, rivalries and contentions. They present the members of the warring, fermenting sects in the most unlovely of lights; they are offensive to each other, and their touch is regarded as somewhat contaminating. Ruskin proceeds to describe the glorious results that would follow if his piece of humble mud were left for sufficient time in perfect rest. Beginning with the clay in the compound, he traces its progress to the consistency of finest porcelain, and then upward until it becomes clear, white and hard, and gathering to its heart "the loveliest rays only," it is known to us as a sapphire. He then takes the sand, and assuming a "similar permission of quiet,” he shows how it attains "the power of reflecting, not GRACES OF THE SPIRIT. 301 merely the blue rays, but the blue, green, purple and red rays, in the greatest beauty in which they can be seen through any hard material whatsoever. We call it then an opal." Next the soot is taken in hand, and its efforts. to become a diamond vividly depicted; for even this worthless element can "exchange its blackness for the power of reflecting all the rays of the sun at once." "Last of all, the water purifies, or unites itself; contented enough if it only reach the form of a dewdrop; but if we insist on its proceeding to a more perfect consistence, it crystallizes into the shape of a star." And in like manner, if the various sects will only fully cease from criticism, sarcasm, and railings at each other's expense, and will strangle their dull-eyed bigotry and smother their stupid self-esteem, and if they will seek peace and follow "brotherly love," they will furnish the condition needed. for each to develop its peculiar "fruit of the Spirit," and its individual perfections. Then it will be seen that there is "faith" in the Catholic, to remind us of the precious ́ and highly painted porcelain; "gentleness" in the Episcopal, to remind us of the rare and softly gleaming sapphire; "knowledge" in Presbyterians, and “diligence” in Methodists, to remind us of the beautiful and many-hued opal; "charity" in the Unitarian, to remind us of the pure and lustrous diamond; and "longsuffering" in the Baptist, to remind us of the fresh and pearly water, symbol of bitter but wholesome tears of sorrow, which hope transforms into the never-fading stars of "joy." The Master of the treasure-house will not despise any of these jewels, but will find a place for each one in His radiant crown; and if so, we should remove every obstacle from the way of their flashing from His footstool; and the more we realize their worthiness to shine, the more fully will we blend our rays together, and when this consummation shall be reached, then will the greatest obstacle be removed from the way of final unification; and then, though diversities may still exist in doctrine and practice, the world will no longer be able to say with scornful lips: "See how these Christians love each other." It would be well for the unconverted, before they articulate this sneer, to consider how much of the present diversity is permitted in condescension to their own weakness and waywardness. The manifoldness of sin, as I have already intimated, cries out for manifoldness in religion, and the differences that reign in the natural most likely can only be met by differences in the supernatural. If God allows us to remain Methodist, Baptist or Episcopalian, it may be on your account, that you may be without excuse; that every type of man may be confronted with a corresponding type of doctrine and of method. Instead of these varieties lessening your responsibility, they rather heighten it, and instead of extenuating your indifference, they only condemn it. Surely somewhere you can find a faith and a church to suit you; surely there are means adapted to your state, and ministries fitted to your peculiar temperament. Think of this, remember this, and instead of jeering at what is tolerated for your good, earnestly seek those aids which a merciful God will bless to your soul's salvation. "Thro' all life's thousand-fold entangled maze, One Godlike bourne your gifted sight surveys,— MAMMONISM. 'Ye cannot serve God and mammon."-Matthew vi, 24. THE "Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Molten, graven, hammered and rolled; Heavy to get, and light to hold; Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold; Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled: Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old Price of many a crime untold,— Gold! gold! gold! gold!" Hood. HERE is a picture by Wertz in an art collection at Brussels which must profoundly impress the thoughtful student of our times. It represents one of those unfortunate French women who played so prominent a part in the tragedy of the Paris Commune, with her back to a wall and her hands tied before her, flashing scorn and contempt from eyes glistening beneath thick shadows of raven hair partly fallen over the face, and a squad of Versailles soldiers, who are mechanically preparing for her summary execution. The story is easily understood, and hardly needs an interpreter. Sympathizing with the enemies of Thiers' new republic, the poor creature has been taken in the act of firing some public building, or in filling her dead husband's place at the barricades, and must meet the consequences at the mouth of a score of muskets. There she stands, life-like, on the canvas, pale but defiant, and there the uniformed assassins with their guns leveled at her defenseless breast. So painfully realistic is the |