den. He was as one awaiting instructions, delighting to hear and obey the Father's will, and declared, without fear of contradiction, "I do always the things that are pleasing to him." In that was perfect joy and blessedness, just as it is for us now. As a result of this uniform obedience, the divine love was centered upon him. It had its worthy object and could fully and safely lavish itself there. This mutual confidence and affection remains the type of our highest privilege and duty. The Holy Spirit still operates upon hearts and minds, to effect a partial likeness to that union in which the Christ lived with the Father, yet never can the human arrogate to itself that completeness of understanding and sympathy which existed betwen them. III. A further token of Jesus' divine authority is seen in

his

Judicial Office.

"The Father

hath given all judgment unto the Son," he said. One who holds such a position is expected to be impartial, considerate, learned, without reproach. In a government of intelligent and responsible souls,

He who the sword of heaven will bear
Should be as holy as severe.

The judge is often thought of as one with the monarch. Deputed dignity is not proper if the superior ruler knows what the lesser does not know concerning the persons and causes coming before him. For the omniscient to commit the decision of supreme matters to the fallible is to do wrong. The destiny of men may not turn on a mistaken opinion, and God be justified. That Jesus claimed such honor was to claim, at the same time, complete acquaintance with every life, in all its varied opportunties and acts. The range of such information is hardly realized when we speak of it. Infinite endowment is alone its measure. The absurdity of such self-assumption in any other is shown at once, as no pretender can for an hour maintain himself in

them. None could challenge the Christ in this, for by a sure intuition they were aware he searched their lives. The Judge was known to be in their midst. And yet, he was saying at one time, "For judgment came I into this world," and at another, "I came not to judge the world." He spoke, too, of the final assize, when his throne would be established in the heavens and all souls would be gathered before him, to receive each according to his deeds. That dread event has been, in some form, haunting the imagination of men in all the ages. But it is not yet, while the real sifting of character goes on under his felt but invisible presence. True, he did not come to judge, but to save, while in that very effort he was and is arraying each heart for or against God. In that respect, he has come for judgment -one that is inevitable, though not his chief purpose.

Some pungent odor is brought into a company and the organs of smell are tested by it immediately, though not a word is spoken. Thousands drift through a gallery of paintings; their artistic sense is passed upon, as they are held or unimpressed by the work of a master. A fearful calamity threatens; the brave are instantly discovered, while the cowards flee. A great moral question arises before a community; men range and so determine themselves on either side, yet no arbitrary decree has been heard fixing their status. Those who dodge one issue find another confronting them, which as exactly tells their state. It is this unremovable and persistent Christ, coming into every assembly, facing us in business, in social hours, in solitary moments, a stern yet gracious being, who is offering peace and fellowship with the Divine, who is making us each say "My Saviour," or "We will not that this man reign over us." However it may be in the future, now, at least, the Father hath given all judgment unto him, for he is the dividing power in the world. Nations and individuals alike feel his compelling force and with praises or scoffs, in faith

or unbelief, regard him. hear his voice and heed it. act is a justifying one. condemn.

There is the chance for each to
The judgment involved in that
It frees from all that might

Life is thus imparted by him, its author-a life which scorns any interruption of a failing pulse, and which cannot be smothered by a shroud. He gives it, as he says, "as he will," but it is always as each wills.

No wonder if the Christ has such a dignity and sovereignty, if in him are centered these infinite attributes—no wonder the Father would have all honor the Son, even as they honor himself! It is God receiving becoming reverence. Any slight shown the Prince Imperial is held to be an insult to the King. But if it be offered to the Ruler himself, though disguised and occupying some humble station, the whole empire resents the act. The universe looks on, in amaze, that the Son of God, after all his marvelous deeds and words and sacrifice, should still be denied, anywhere, that adoration he receives in the heavenly land. The psalms and tribute of love, as the Christ is pushed aside, and these are jealously presented to the Father instead, do but offend the more Him who, out of the opening skies, declared, "This is my beloved Son."

It is well to be on our guard against imposition. It is fatal to reject God's self-revelation.

DeWitt S. Clark.

CHRIST FEEDING THE FIVE THOUSAND

JOHN 6: 1-14

"And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst."-John 6:35.

Jesus had led his disciples across the lake and up into a mountain to rest. The hardness of heart and the spiritual blindness of the people weighed heavily upon him. But the multitude followed him. They would not let him go; they never thought of his necessities. He wanted the solace of the quiet and the strength to be found in nature. It is God's world, and the Son of God received help from the hills when he was worn and tired.

The crowd was moved by other motives. "They saw his miracles which he did on them that were diseased." Their curiosity was aroused. Human nature always has an unhallowed taste for the marvelous. They cared nothing for the place, nor for the sensitive soul of the Master. But he returned good for evil, in a perfect sympathy for them which comprehended their thoughtless and improvident condition. He worked no miracles for the gratification of idle curiosity, but only for the relief of suffering, and to teach the truth of his mission. For all this curious crowd he felt compassion. It was no doubtful use of his miraculous powers to provide them food and comfort. God is ever repeating that same miracle in the slower processes of the seasons, and for the uncounted family of man. And first Jesus appealed to Philip, the literalist among his fol

lowers. There was no speculation nor imagination in that disciple. He was a man of facts, a simple realist. That is why Jesus applied to him for details in the present case. He would know if there was any store of provision at their command. Philip was just the one to look out for means and measures. He and his friend Andrew knew the affairs of the disciples perfectly. They had a generous supply of common sense. It needed to be enlarged into that uncommon sense which deals with things unseen.

Jesus was always trying to adapt himself and his teachings to those who heard him. His care for the individual is shown in nothing more plainly than in the painstaking adjustment of his lessons to personal needs. He would not discuss an intellectual subtlety with Nicodemus, but pressed home upon the heart of the learned man that even he must be born again. To the woman at the well he taught the satisfaction of life in the spirit instead of in the flesh. To Simon, son of Jonas, he brought home the deepest lesson of loyalty through perfect love. To Philip he spoke about the loaves and fishes needed, that he might, if possible, teach his faith to rise and his imagination to soar. It was kindergarten training, each disciple a special pupil, every object furnishing an apt lesson. Andrew had found some little food, but like the servant of Elisha who demurred at offering so slender a repast to the sons of the prophets, literal Andrew and Philip cried, "What are they among so many?" Jesus takes the scanty store, and out of it he makes the beginning of the abundance to come. In the sense of order and the fitness of things so closely united to his sympathy with nature, where order is the first law, Jesus distributes the multitude in regular groups upon the ground, blesses the bread, and gives it to them. The little becomes an abundance by the divine arithmetic of Jesus, while the people eat and are satisfied.

The relief of hunger is one end accomplished, as it was