would, I am sure, have taken Judas in his very arms; he,
too, might have given him a kiss, not of betrayal, but of the sign of
his complete forgiveness, and Judas might have shone to-day in the city
of God as shines Joseph of Arimathaea, Paul the Apostle, Peter the
Preacher.

The saddest story I know is the story of Judas, for it is the account
of a man who resisted the grace of God and must regret it through
eternity.

AN OLD-FASHIONED HOME

TEXT: "_What have they seen in thy house?_"--2 Kings 20:15.

If you will tell me what is in your own house by your own choice I will
tell you the story of your home life and will be able to inform you
whether yours is a home in which there is harmony and peace or
confusion and despair. Let me read the names of the guests in your
guest book, allow me to study the titles of the books in your library
in which you have special delight, permit me to scan your magazines
which you particularly like, allow me to listen to your conversation
when you do not know that you are being overheard, give me the
privilege of talking but for a moment to your servants, and make it
possible for me to visit with your friends in whom you have particular
delight--and I will write a true story of what you have been, of what
you are, and of what you will be but for the grace of God, even though
I may not know you personally at all. In other words, whatever may be
seen in your home determines what your home is.

I was a man grown before I visited Washington, the capital of the
nation. I was the guest of a member of the President's Cabinet.
Riding with him the first evening, when the moon was shining, we
suddenly came upon the National Capitol, and I said to my host, "What
in the world is that?" He said, with a smile, as if he pitied me,
"That is the Capitol building, and that is the home of the nation." I
am sure he was right in a sense, because the building is magnificent,
and is in every way the worthy home of such a nation as ours; but I
think I take issue with him, after careful thought, in his statement
that the Capitol building is the home of the nation. I can recall a
visit made to a home which was not in any sense palatial, where the
old-fashioned father every morning and evening read his Bible, knelt in
prayer with his household about him, commended to God his children each
by name, presented the servants at the throne of grace, and then sang
with them all one of the sweet hymns of