is of God's appointment and for us to overcome. Sin is simply acquiescence in limitation, the choice of the lower and lesser in the presence of the higher and fuller. It is not man's true life, not his restingplace. It is the filthy garment that hides a Divine being. How far a man is responsible for his own transgressions none of us is in a position to say; all that we dare affirm is that we know when we are doing wrong and when we are to blame, but we know not when our neighbour is culpable. Mr. Mallock, in his "Reconstruction of Belief," gives an example (for the accuracy of which of course I cannot vouch) of a man who through an accident in a goods yard was deprived of a portion of his brain, and this reacted unfavourably upon his character. Whereas before he had been noble and upright, generous-hearted, conscientious in the discharge of his duty, he was afterwards cunning, peevish, base, and unreliable in his conduct. Mr. Mallock may not have stated the whole of the case, but all it would appear to prove is that the area of the self-expression of the soul of that man was limited. A dear friend was telling me the other night something about his own father, a godly man, noble and upright, who had served his Master, Christ, through the greater part of a long life. In the evening of his days, and largely in consequence of his laborious and unsparing efforts in the cause of truth, he fell seriously ill. The illness affected his mind, and, said his son, "It seemed afterwards as

though he were somehow a lesser man, not only intellectually, but even morally. Henceforth he seemed to be a little more irritable, grasping, selfconscious, anxious for praise. Some uncharitable people declared that now he was revealed in his true colours, that before he had been masquerading, but we who loved him at home knew better. This was not my father; my father was that former, larger man." I might have added, "Your father was more and greater even than you ever knew." As poor Robert Burns once wrote

Thou knowest Thou hast formed me with passions wild and strong,

And listening to their witching voice has often led me wrong.

My experience as a Christian minister, with the cure of souls, teaches me the overwhelming truth of that pathetic utterance of the Scottish poet, I cannot put myself in my neighbour's place. I know nothing of the predisposing influences in his case, I know nothing of the hardness of his struggle before he fell; only God knows that. Let none of us take the place of the accuser of souls, or we may hear from the great white throne the words, "The Lord rebuke thee, O Satan. Take away the filthy garments from him." My message to you and I utter it with all solemnity, believing it to be God's word is. you are not your sin. You never were. That is the filthy garment that hides the child of God. Sin is the iron gate you have closed upon

yourself, behind which your imprisoned soul cries out for life.

How shall we put into practice the exhortation of the text? Look into the life of Jesus. We are not only greater than we seem, we are the keepers of one another's souls. It would lift a great deal of the hopelessness out of the yearning sorrow that some of you feel for the wandering and the lost if you could only just look at them as Jesus did. "When he came to himself he said, I will arise and go to my father." Every sinner must come to himself by the feeding upon husks on this side of death or on the other, and every saviour must go on seeking while there is a sinner left. Every wanderer away into the darkness, the midnight of the soul, must return unto the Divine home to wear the diadem of victory; and you and I are God's appointed messengers to publish that truth to all the nations upon earth. That is why we ever heard it, that is why it has become a living experience to some of us. you would save a man, you must believe in him. If he cannot believe in himself, you must make it possible for him to do it. You must help him, lift him, restore and encourage him, claim him for God, take away the filthy garments from him. That principle holds just as true of your own individual life, dear friends, those of you who feel like sinners and those of you who do not. Is there a sin taking hold upon you whose very presence is a humiliation, and which is working havoc and ruin in your soul?

If

Remember, you are not that sin, and therefore you can rise above it. Is there a weakness that you dare not confess to men, but that you have often confessed and lamented over to God? Remember, you are not that weakness, and that God's strength is yours. What, then, are you? You are a son of God, whom the Elder Brother came to seek and save. Rise, child of the Highest, claim your heritage and enter upon eternal life.

THE ANGEL OF THE SOUL

"Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of My Father which is in heaven."-ST. MATTHEW xviii. 10.

THIS passage is peculiar to St. Matthew's gospel, although it here forms part of a discourse which has its parallels in Mark and Luke, as we saw during the reading of our lesson. Although this is the only record we have of it, there can hardly be a question as to its genuineness. It accords well with the view that Jesus always took of the sacredness of child-life. In spirit and meaning it is closely akin to the beautiful saying contained in the very next chapter, "Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto Me; for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

This is not the first time I have preached from this text, but I think I can now see a little more deeply into its meaning than was formerly the case. The circumstances under which this sentence was first uttered appear to have been as follows: According to St. Matthew, the disciples came to Jesus asking, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" and for reply Jesus took a little child into His arms