tions,
its noblest work is not to separate but to unite; and whilst it often
must divide, it is meant to draw more closely together hearts that
are already knit by earthly love. Its legitimate effect is to make
all earthly sweetnesses sweeter, all holy bonds more holy and more
binding, to infuse a new constraint and preciousness into all earthly
relationships, to make brothers tenfold more brotherly and sisters
more sisterly. The heart, in which the deepest devotion is yielded to
Jesus Christ, has its capacity for devotion infinitely increased, and
they who, looking into each other's faces, see reflected there
something of the Lord whom they both love, love each other all the
more because they love Him most, and in their love to Him, and His to
them, have found a new measure for all their affection. They who,
looking on their dear ones, can 'trust they live in God,' will there
find them 'worthier to be loved,' and will there find a power of
loving them. Tryphena and Tryphosa were more sisterly than ever when
they clung to their Elder Brother. 'There is no man that hath left
brethren, or sisters, or mother, or father, for My sake, but he shall
receive a hundredfold more in this time, brethren, and sisters, and
mothers, and in the world to come eternal life.'

The contrast between the names of these two Roman ladies and the
characterisation of their 'labour in the Lord' may suggest to us the
most formidable foe of Christian earnestness. Their names, as we have
already noticed, point to a state of society in which the parents
ideal for their daughters was dainty luxuriousness and a withdrawal
from the rough and tumble of common life; but these two women,
magnetised by the love of Jesus, had turned their backs on the
parental ideal, and had cast themselves earnestly into a life of
toil. That ideal was never more formidably antagonistic to the vigour
of Christian life than it is to-day. Rome, in Paul's time, was not
more completely honeycombed with worldliness than England is to-day;
and the English churches are not far behind the English 'world' in
their paralysing love of luxury and self-indulgence. In all ages,
earnest Christians have had to take up the same vehement remonstrance
against the tendency of the average Christian to let his religious
life be weakened by the love of the world and the things of the
world. The protests against growing luxury have been a commonplace in
all ages of the Church; but, surely, there h