toric that you are disposed to put in for the sake of the compliment
it will bring from that literary woman down yonder, or that bright,
brainy young lawyer in the fifth pew on the left aisle. _It takes power_
to see that the lips that speak for God are thoroughly clean lips, and
the life that stands before that audience a pure life.

_It takes power_ to keep sweet in the home, where, if anywhere, the
seamy side is apt to stick out. How many wooden oaths could kicked
chairs and slammed doors tell of! After all the home-life comes close to
being the real test of power, does it not? _It takes power_ to be
gracious and strong, and patient and tender, and cheery, in the
commonplace things, and the commonplace places, does it not?

Now, I have something to tell you to-night that to me is very
wonderful, and constantly growing in wonder. It is this--_the Master has
thought of all that!_ He has thought into your life. Yes, I mean _your
particular life_, and made an arrangement to fully cover all your need
of power. He stands anew in our midst to-day, and putting His pierced
hand gently upon your arm, His low, loving, clear voice says quietly,
but very distinctly, "_You--you shall have power._" For every subtle,
strong temptation, for every cry of need, for every low moan of
disappointment, for every locking of the jaws in the resolution of
despair, for every disheartened look out into the morrow, for every
yearningly ambitious heart there comes to-night that unmistakable
ringing promise of _His_--_ye shall have power_.

The Olivet Message.

Our needs argue the necessity of power. And the argument is strengthened
by the peculiar emphasis of the Master's words. Do you remember that
wondrous Olivet scene? In the quiet twilight of a Sabbath evening a
group of twelve young men stand yonder on the brow of Olives. The last
glowing gleams of the setting sun fill all the western sky, and shed a
halo of yellow glory-light over the hilltop, through the trees, in upon
that group. You instantly pick out the leader. No mistaking Him. And
around Him group the eleven men who have lived with Him these months
past, now eagerly gazing into that marvelous face, listening for His
words. He is going away. They know that. Coming back soon, they
understand. But in His absence the work He has begun is to be entrusted
to their hands. And so with ears and eyes they listen intently for the
good-bye word--His last message. It will mean so much in the