eat this poor man who happens to
cross my path, is the way I should treat my dearest friend, if he were
equally poor and unfortunate, and equally remote from personal
association with my past life. The man who will let a single poor family
suffer, when he is able to afford relief, is capable of being false to
the whole human race. Speaking in the name of our common humanity, the
Son of Man declares, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least
of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Sympathy "doubles our
joys and halves our sorrows." It increases our range of interest and
affection, making "the world one fair moral whole" in which we share the
joys and sorrows of our brothers.

+The man who sympathizes with the sufferings of others seeks and finds
the sympathy of others in his own losses and trials when they
come.+--Familiarity and sympathy with the sufferings of others
strengthens us to bear suffering when it comes to us: for we are able to
see that it is no unusual and exceptional evil falling upon us alone,
but accept it as an old and familiar acquaintance, whom we have so often
met in other lives that we do not fear his presence in our own.

THE TEMPTATION.

+"Am I my brother's keeper?"+--We are comfortable and well cared for. We
are earning our own living. We pay our debts. We work hard for what we
get. Why should we not enjoy ourselves? Why should I share my earnings
with the shiftless vagabond, the good-for-nothing loafer? What is he to
me? In one or another of these forms the murderous question "Am I my
brother's keeper?" is sure to rise to our lips when the needs of the
poor call for our assistance and relief. Or if we do recognize the
claim, we are tempted to hide behind some organization; giving our money
to that; and sending it to do the actual work. We do not like to come
into the real presence of suffering and want. We do not want to visit
the poor man in his tenement; and clasp his hand, and listen with our
own ears to the tale of wretchedness and woe as it falls directly from
his lips. We do not care to take the heavy and oppressive burden of his
life's problem upon our own minds and hearts. We wish him well. But we
do not will his betterment strongly and earnestly enough to take us to
his side, and join our hands with his in lifting off the weight that
keeps him down. Alienation, the desire to hold ourselves aloof from the
real wretchedness of our brother, is our great temptation with