THE A ERE is a sad | righteousness had been able to fill. And but instruc- most promising of all, this strong, though tive case of vague, sense of shortcoming and need failure in carries him straight to Christ himself, conversion. as if he had descried a "good" in Him young that he had seen in no other. What man of rank tokens of promise! What an air of hopeand fortune fulness about the case of this young comes hurry-man. A and guidance, have bitter occasion to go away sorrowful. Of all the sorrowful steps a man can take in life, surely the most sorrowful is that of turning the back on Christ, mortified and disappointed. Ah! why did so eager an enquiry lead to so "lame and impotent a conclusion ?" How did not Christ become to him, there and then, what he had fondly called him, his Good Master? ing to Christ, Yet what a disappointment we are with breath- doomed to experience! How comes it to less anxiety. pass that he so immediately turns away? A noble by Very sorrowful indeed. Yes; all that birth, a ruler by office, he breaks through go away from Christ, refusing His grace the trammels of class and caste. He scruples not to kneel with reverence before Jesus on the public highway. Everything seems to favour a happy result. The young man has maintained a blameless reputation. His great riches have not proved a snare, as they often do, on the sensual side of life. Nor have they made him haughty and overbearing toward others. On the contrary, he has many admirable and amiable. Oh! it needs but one idol only qualities that awaken a kindly interest. one misplaced devotion of the soul-to "Jesus, looking on him, loved him." render all better wishes ineffectual or Moreover, the young man is not without transient. If this young man had only spiritual thought and yearnings. See possessed his wealth; but the misfortune him coming to Christ, not as many sup-was, it possessed him. And no man can pliants did, about a bodily ailment; but serve two masters. We have only one. about his soul. He has anxieties about his eternal safety. How serious and urgent the question on his lips, "Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" He is neither à hard-shell Pharisee, nor a scoffing Sadducee. For he has felt in some measure the unsatisfactoriness of a mere religious profession however respectable. And he has become conscious of an aching void within, that neither his wealth nor his 1 Mark x. 17-27. heart, and we cannot act as if we had two to dispose of. He lacked but one thing, the Lord said, in order to enjoy eternal life, a single-minded aim and purpose after its blessings. This was the fatal defect, a wholehearted devotion to its interests and claims. The gallant and stately ship may have many things lacking in its equipment, and yet be safe at sea; but permit a gaping leak under the waterline, then all is lost. So this interesting and hopeful young man begins to sink away down from Christ, because he would maintain a free inlet to his heart for that covetousness which is idolatry. And yet, how profound his unconsciousness of all this! For how gross is his self-ignorance and self-deception! He actually thought he had been keeping all the commandments of God. What, therefore, must the Lord in mercy do at the very outset, but reveal the young man to himself? For with all his sense of something lacking, he thinks to eke out his past shortcomings if Jesus would suggest a few things he might easily do. Hence the tone of challenge in his question, "Good Master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" To keep the commandments had been a simple task from his youth. Why not seek to have a surplus of goodness, and get a step or two in advance of all God's ordinary and reasonable claims, and thereby make his own position perfectly secure? No wonder our Lord replies, "Why callest thou Me good? None is good but one,-GOD." He is the supreme, the absolute good; entitled to the unreserved and undivided devotion of the heart. Thou then who keepest the commandments, listen to the very first. Thou who dost" love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul," Go, I say, in the name of the Lord thy God, sell what thou hast and give to the poor. Ah! what an opening of his eyes! A painful, but, probably in the end, a salutary disenchantment. Not that it was necessary, as an absolute rule, to part with one's possessions; only to show how he stood to them, and if he could part with them at the divine call. It is the old familiar case of God trying us, as we try the links of a chain, at the weakest point. Thus when God would prove Abraham, he uses no test of money or wealth. It is the father's affection for the only and well - beloved Isaac, that forms the decisive test in his case. But when the patriarch had shewn that God was a higher good to him than any son, the voice from heaven proclaims "It is enough: stay now thine hand," and Isaac is restored. Yes; the Lord never exacts beyond what is fit in any case. He here aims at the possessionsand at the whole of them-that he may' the better reveal the covetousness that is idolatry lurking in the young man's heart. Alas! how many flutter fondly about Christ, like this young man they feel, they kneel, they wish, but get no farther. Some secret idol is keeping them in thrall. "I have read of many a bad pope," says John Newton, "but the worst I ever met with is Pope SELF." "The most difficult thing I have found in practical religion," said James Hervey "is to crucify sinful self." "Nay, rather, righteous self" replied a more experienced disciple of Dr. Doddridge. The worship of self is the last and most dangerous stronghold of idolatry. If the young ruler got a new insight into himself, the disciples got a new insight into salvation. They were astonished out of measure, saying "Who then can be saved?" If a single idol cherished in the heart may sink a soul; if to be converted means to be set free from the bondage of the idols of self-will, self-seeking, self-sufficiency, self-righteousness, and if, when we carry our appeal to Christ himself, He confronts us with a demand extremely distasteful, and meets us with a proposal that mortifies our pride, and irritates our spirit of opposition; what is to subdue our rebellious will to dispose us to be rid of the might and mastery of all idols together? No human power can do it; but God's power can. Has not His creative power become. saving and converting power for us? Take hold of this offered help in a Divine Redeemer's outstretched hand. Seek His promised aid. Plead His pledged word. And "In the Lord you will find everlasting strength: the saving strength of the right-hand of the Most High. DAVID GRAY. MILE from Kir- David, naturally of almost feminine sensitiveness, and of exceedingly highstrung temperament, had awakened to see the world with the eyes of a poet, and his dream was to be a great poet. occupying a lowly station in society, his father being a handloom weaver. David, the first-born of a family consisting of five sons and three daughters, from his childhood gave indications of talent and cleverness. His parents, who had themselves received but an indifferent education, were fully sensible of the value of a good education for their boy; and by-and-by, when his mental capacity showed itself, it became their fond desire and dream that some day he would preach the everlasting Gospel of the Lord Jesus. There were no unsurmountable difficulties in his way. In due time he became a pupil-teacher, then was transferred to the Normal School in Glasgow, and for four sessions attended the university there, managing to live by teaching, with such help as the old folks at Makland could afford to give him from their scanty means. An obstacle, however, had before this arisen in the way of the realisation of his parents' wish that he should be a minister of the Gospel. There was great perplexity in the home at Makland, when, on the 5th of May, 1860, the message came from David in Glasgow: "I start off to-night at five o'clock by the Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway, right on to London, in good health and spirits." He had made up his mind that London was the place where his talents would be recognised, and where he would find a fitting field for his abilities. A companion and friend to whom he was most deeply attached, Robert Buchanan (now a well-known and successful literary man), consented to go with him, if only he could find the means. They parted, agreeing to meet at the railway station. As it happened, nothing was said as to which of the two stations, whence different lines start for London, |