the first attempt to realise the oneness of the race, and first
taught the world that all men were brethren.

And before this simple word of greeting could have been sent, and the
unknown man in Corinth felt love to a company of unknown men in Rome,
some profound new impulse must have been given to the world;
something altogether unlike any of the forces hitherto in existence.
What was that? What should it be but the story of One who gave
Himself for the whole world, who binds men into a unity because of
His common relation to them all, and through whom the great
proclamation can be made: 'There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is
neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female, for ye are
all one in Christ Jesus.' Brother Quartus' message, like some tiny
flower above-ground which tells of a spreading root beneath, is a
modest witness to that mighty revolution, and presupposes the
preaching of a Saviour in whom he and his unseen friends in Rome are
one.

So let us learn not to confine our sympathy and the play of our
Christian affection within the limits of our personal knowledge. We
must go further a-field than that. Like this man, let us sometimes
send our thoughts across mountains and seas. He knew nobody in the
Roman Church, and nobody knew him, but he wished to stretch out his
hand to them, and to feel, as it were, the pressure of their fingers
in his palm. That is a pattern for us.

Let me suggest another thing. Quartus was a Corinthian. The
Corinthian Church was remarkable for its quarrellings and
dissensions. One said, 'I am of Paul, and another, I of Apollos, and
I of Cephas, and I of Christ.' I wonder if our friend Quartus
belonged to any of these parties? There is nothing more likely than
that he had a much warmer glow of Christian love to the brethren over
there in Rome than to those who sat on the same bench with him in the
upper room at Corinth. For you know that sometimes it is true about
people, as well as about scenery, that 'distance lends enchantment to
the view.' A great many of us have much keener sympathies with
'brethren' who are well out of our reach, and whose peculiarities do
not jar against ours, than with those who are nearest. I do not say
Quartus was one of these, but he may very well have been one of the
wranglers in Corinth who found it much easier to love his brother
whom he had not seen than his brother whom he had seen. So take the
hint, if you need it. Do not let your Chris