service for one's fellow-men. If we could, if we would thus translate
religion into terms of life, it would become a source of perennial joy.

It is not with observation, said Jesus, that the supreme thing that he
taught--the seeking and finding of the Kingdom of God--will come. Do not
seek it at some other place, some other time. It is within, and if
within it will show forth. Make no mistake about that,--it will show
forth. It touches and it sensitises the inner springs of action in a
man's or a woman's life. When a man realises his Divine sonship that
Jesus taught, he will act as a son of God. Out of the heart spring
either good or evil actions. Self-love, me, mine; let me get all I can
for myself, or, thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself--the Divine law
of service, of mutuality--the highest source of ethics.

You can trust any man whose heart is right. He will be straight, clean,
reliable. His word will be as good as his bond. Personally you can't
trust a man who is brought into any line of action, or into any
institution through fear. The sore is there, liable to break out in
corruption at any time. This opening up of the springs of the inner life
frees him also from the letter of the law, which after all consists of
the traditions of men, and makes him subject to that higher moral guide
within. How clearly Jesus illustrated this in his conversations
regarding the observance of the Sabbath--how the Sabbath was made for
man and not man for the Sabbath, and how it was always right to do good
on the Sabbath.

I remember some years ago a friend in my native state telling me the
following interesting incident in connection with his grandmother. It
was in northern Illinois--it might have been in New England. "As a boy,"
said he, "I used to visit her on the farm. She loved her cup of coffee
for breakfast. Ordinarily she would grind it fresh each morning in the
kitchen; but when Sunday morning came she would take her coffee-grinder
down into the far end of the cellar, where no one could see and no one
could hear her grind it." He could never quite tell, he said, whether it
was to ease her own conscience, or in order to give no offence to her
neighbours.

Now, I can imagine Jesus passing by and stopping at that home--it was a
home known for its native kindly hospitality--and meeting her just as
she was coming out of the cellar with her coffee-grinder--his quick and
unerring perception enabling him to take in the who