reason He came in the way He did. That's the
reason when He gets possession of us there's the passion to take the
full Jesus-light out to every one. And this passion burns in us and
through us, and ours, and sweeps all in the sweep of its tender holy
flame. In this way every man may be fully lit, and so in following the
Jesus-light he shall not walk in the darkness where he has been, but in
the sweet clear light of life.

Looking for Recognition.

Then we come to the first of John's heart-breaking sentences. John had a
hard time writing his Gospel. He was not simply writing a book. That
might have been fairly easy for him with his personal knowledge and all
the facts so familiar. But he is telling about his dearest Friend. And
the telling makes his heart throb harder, and his eyes fill up, and the
writing look dim to him, as he tries to put the words down.

Listen: _He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and
the world recognized, or rather acknowledged, Him not._ It was His
world, His child, His creation. He had made it. But it failed to
acknowledge Him. He came walking down the street of life. He met the
world going the other way. And He gave it a warm good-morning greeting.
And it knew Him full well. It knew who He was. But it turned its face
aside and walked by with no return greeting. This is what John is
saying. It recognized, it acknowledged Him not.

You mothers know the glad hour that comes in a mother's life when her
little babe of the wee weeks knows her _for the first time._ She's busy
bathing or nursing, or, she's just hovering over the precious morsel of
humanity when there's really nothing needing to be done. And the babe's
eyes catch her own and _a smile comes,_ the first smile of recognition.
And the mother-heart gives a glad leap. She murmurs to herself, "Oh,
baby knows me!"

And when the father comes home that night she greets him with, "Baby
knew me to-day." And there's a soft bell-like tender ring in her voice
that vibrates on the strings of his heart. And all the folks within
range are advised of the day's event. And the mother clear forgets all
the sharp-cutting pain back there just a little before, in this joy,
this look of recognition.

I knew of a woman. She was of an old family, of unusual native gift, and
rare accomplishment. And her babe came. And the time came when
ordinarily there would be that first sweet look of recognition, but--_it
didn't come._ There was