y gird
on himself whatever habit may fit him best and leave him freest for
Christ's service.

Peter heard the words "Follow Me," and rose and went after Jesus; John
did the same without any special call. There are those who need definite
impulses, others who are guided in life by their own constant love. John
would always absorbedly follow. Peter had yet to learn to follow, to own
a leader. He had to learn to seek the guidance of his Lord's will, to
wait upon that will and to interpret it--never an easy thing to do, and
least of all easy to a man like Peter, fond of managing, of taking the
lead, too hasty to let his thoughts settle and his spirit fixedly
consider the mind of Christ.

It is obvious that when Jesus uttered the words "Follow Me," He moved
away from the spot where they had all been standing together. And yet,
coming as they did after so very solemn a colloquy, these words must
have carried to Peter's mind a further significance than merely an
intimation that the Lord wished His company then. Both in the mind of
the Lord and of Peter there seems still to have been a vivid remembrance
of Peter's denial; and as the Lord has given him opportunity of
confessing his love, and has hinted what this love will lead him to, He
appropriately reminds him that any penalties he might suffer for his
love were all in the path which led straight to where Christ Himself for
ever is. The superiority to earthly distresses which Christ now enjoyed
would one day be his. But while he is beginning to take in these
thoughts Peter turns and sees John following; and, with that promptness
to interfere which characterised him, he asked Jesus what was to become
of this disciple. This question betrayed a want of steadiness and
seriousness in contemplating his own duty, and met therefore with
rebuke: "If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?
follow thou Me." Peter was prone to intermeddle with matters beyond his
sphere, and to manage other people's affairs for them. Such a
disposition always betrays a lack of devotion to our own calling. To
brood over the easier lot of our friend, to envy him his capacity and
success, to grudge him his advantages and happiness, is to betray an
injurious weakness in ourselves. To be unduly anxious about the future
of any part of Christ's Church, as if He had omitted to arrange for that
future, to act as if we were essential to the well-being of some part of
Christ's Church, is to interme