It is better, we know, to live in a large house than a small one; better to have convenient furniture than inconvenient; better to have land than no land, But "all is not gold that glitters.' It is greatly to be questioned whether those who have these comforts are as content as many who are without them. Dives has wealth, Lazarus has none; but what if Dives with his wealth has endless demands upon it and harassing fears about it? If Lazarus is happy with his crust, he need not envy Dives. There you are, John Hodge, resting your horses at plough and looking at yon large white mansion on the hill-side. You think you

should be perfectly satisfied and blessed if you changed places with Squire Allacre, don't you? Oh, foolish John! He does not sleep as soundly as you. He sips ancient wine, and carves well-fed game, but your hard work gives you a relish for your humble dinner, eaten under the hedge, which very likely he would give not a little to obtain. Wealth is a blessing, but wealth is not omnipotent. Poverty is an evil but a mitigated evil.

"In palaces are hearts that ask,
In discontent and pride,
Why life is such a dreary task,
And all good things denied;

And hearts in poorest huts admire
How love has in their aid

(Love that nought ere seems to tire)
Such rich provisions made."

Commercial prosperity and depression afford a further instance of the counterbalancing forces which Providence has given to regulate human affairs. Unquestionably it is well that trade and agriculture should flourish. It is well that a nation's harbours should be studded with the ships of every clime, its markets filled with eager buyers and sellers, its exchanges thronged with merchants and merchant-princes, its mills going, its fields fringed with ripening grain, its population increasing. These are things for which to be truly thankful to Him who is the giver of every good gift. Notwithstanding, as adversity is sometimes beneficial to individuals, so is it to a nation. Stagnant trade has its compensation. Ingenuity is taxed. When one source of subsistence fails, others are anxiously sought. Thus, discoveries are made; improvements are effected. "Necessity is the mother of invention," and many a useful invention has been necessitated by failing resources. Moreover, men's powers of endurance, hope, and self-restraint are put to the test. Past times showed, too often, that when thus tried, these virtues did not exist in any powerful degree among the operatives of our land. It is not so Recent experience in Lancashire and Cheshire has proved that a noble, long-suffering, and brave people inhabit those

now.

counties. But, above all, commercial depression stimulates public sympathy and awakens public benevolence. The case just adduced will serve again here. The distress in the North has been a blessing to East, West, and South. It asked and received their aid, and such aid is never given without leaving its giver better than it found him. "Are we to starve ?" cried the children of need. "No," replied everyone, "we will not let you starve." The promise was faithfully kept, and in keeping of it there has been "great reward." But national philanthropy has tried its strength, exercised its powers, and renewed its youth like the eagle.

3. As respects diversity in character there is compensation. We can soon illustrate our meaning here. Alpha is a man of great mind. His intellect is well developed. It has grown with his growth and increased with years. His imagination is buoyant and soaring; he can carry you away on the wings of fancy beyond the prosaic doings and sayings of this prosaic world, into regions hitherto unknown by you. His judgment is sound and reliable. So logical is he that you hardly ever knew him to be seriously at fault in the verdict he pronounced upon a subject submitted to his consideration. His power of reflection is something marvellous; he can abstract his attention from all else, and concentrate it upon a certain topic for hours. His memory is good. He seems to lose nothing. He reads extensively, but he retains what he reads. His mental storehouse is well-stocked, and its doors are so firmly barred that no thief can gain admittance. He is a sort of walking encyclopædia. Men of such an order it is probable we have all known. Notwithstanding,

though so eminent in intellect, how often it happens that they are just as defective in other respects. To wit: socially they are often "found wanting." Their hearts are not as warm as their minds are finely cultured. They are cold and 'passionless. To persons of feeling or enthusiasm they are strangers.

Here, on the other hand, is our good friend Beta. One cannot extol him for talent or learning. He is dull rather than clever; his knowledge is shallow and elementary rather than profound. You would never think of asking his aid in solving any knotty mathematical, economic, or theological problem: you would never think of talking to him about the respective merits of this or that favourite artist: you would never think of turning down a leaf in your copy of Tennyson or Mrs. Browning in order to elicit his admiration on behalf of a favourite passage. What then? Is Beta a nonentity in society? Has Alpha the better of him in all respects? By no means. Beta gains in power of emotion what he loses in power of thought. He is exceedingly amiable. Love rules him. He has great sympathy and abun

dant compassion. Young and old, rich and poor, superiors, equals, and inferiors, are attached to him by reason of his kindness. Here, therefore, is compensation. It is true he cannot write a learned treatise, but he can visit you in sorrow and console you. He cannot simplify a difficult scientific question or epitomise a prolix historical work, but he can watch patiently by the bedside of the invalid, move about with considerate quietness, and speak words of wise comfort. He cannot appreciate a landscape by Turner or a painting of Holman Hunt; he would be out of his element at the meetings of an antiquarian society, and would take no interest in matters pertaining to architecture though introduced to him in the most attractive aspects; but if you want to borrow money, he will lend it you; if you are out of spirits, he will cheer you; if, as he sometimes says, he can be "of any service to you," he will,

The reader must please observe that we do not disparage intellect nor unduly value right feeling. It is better to have each in due proportions than either in excess; at the same time, he who lacks the one has something like atonement made for its absence in the fact that he possesses the other in an unusual degree. Robert Raikes was no genius. We have yet to learn that John Pounds was notable for talent or education. Yet what noble enterprises they originated! The benefits flowing from Sabbath and Ragged Schools are incalculable.

Respecting the possession of active and passive virtues, also, we see an instance of counterbalancing advantage and disadvantage. How seldom the active and the passive are vigorously combined in one person. Yonder is a man in whom the former predominates. He is full of energy. Idleness is misery to him. He must be doing something. The drone and the sluggard's curse will never be his. Give him congenial work, and he will go through it with zest and success. He is enterprising also. While some are too much in love with routine, custom, and fashion to dare disobey them, he is willing to make experiments. He believes in improvement. If needful, he will deviate from the old and beaten track, and strike out for himself and others a new and better path. Money, labour, time, he is willing to risk in a speculation which aims at destroying an antiquated nuisance or a time-worn evil. And he is courageous. Threats which alarm many have no effect on him. Danger he will encounter, if duty calls thereto. The coward's stigma will never stain his reputation. These active virtues he manifests to an unusual extent. But that is only one side of the shield. How about the passive virtues? Well, the truth is that he is not very familiar with them. They are but occasional guests at his house. His connection with them is formal. He can do well,

but he cannot suffer well: even as Peter drew his sword in Christ's behalf, but afterwards could not bear the accusations of his Master's foes. When trial comes, he soon shows the weak side of his character. He has no force of endurance. Yonder, on the contrary, is one of whom the very reverse is the case. His temperament is mild and equable. Nothing disturbs him. His life flows on as silently and deliberately as the white clouds over a summer's sky. In him you look in vain for energy, determination, industry, and strong will. But he can suffer well. When trouble arrives, he has the advantage over those of a more active and restless temperament. Does bodily infirmity come, prostrating him in pain week after week? He can bear it. Does calumny come, whispering falsehoods and slandering his fair name? He can bear it. Does disappointment come, snatching from his grasp that which has been the object of his hope and effort for months? He can bear it. Does death enter his habitation, darkening heart and home alike with his dread presence? He can bear it. In him, patience has its perfect work. Who will deny that there is compensation here?

4. As respects spiritual advantages and disadvantages there is compensation. Two examples of this must suffice. First, let us take persecution. It is an evil. None ought to be subjected to injury on account of their faith. It is radically and utterly wrong for any man or any body of men to be oppressed for conscience' sake. Hard to endure, moreover, are the fruits of persecution. To have one's house entered and plundered by coarse ruffians and soldiers, to be robbed by lawless crowds, to be pelted in the pillory or the stocks, to be shut up in prison, to be banished one's native land, to be dodged by spies in all places and at all hours, or even to die at the stake or on the scaffold, these are no small tribulations. Albeit, Christianity has never flourished as it has done in times when these afflictions were the penalty of being its disciples. The Church's Augustan days have been days of persecution. Faith has been most vigorous, love the warmest, hope the most buoyant, conscience the purest, zeal the most active, when jails and bonds and blood have been the price paid for constancy to the Saviour. In their captivities, the Hebrew people forgot their idolatries. When banished from their fatherland their image-worship came to an end. Suffering led them to God. The hours in which they wept, hanging their harps upon the trees and refusing to sing the Lord's song "in a strange land," were the hours in which they were purified and made better. Similar has been the experience of the Church over and over again. Persecution has chastened and ennobled. It has bestowed in spiritual blessing what it deprived its victims of in social, bodily, and political comforts.

"The heavier cross, the stronger faith;
The loaded palm strikes deeper root;
The vine-juice sweetly issueth

When men have pressed the clustered fruit.
And courage grows where dangers come,
Like pearls beneath the salt sea foam.

"The heavier cross, the heartier prayer.
The bruised herbs most fragrant are.
If wind and sky were always fair,
The sailor would not watch the star;
And David's psalms had ne'er been sung
If grief his heart had never wrung.

Our second example of spiritual compensation is to be found in our knowledge of Christ. How common it is for people to be found wishing that they had lived when our Lord was visibly present on the earth. To have seen His face, to have heard His voice, to have followed Him in His visits from place to place, to have had personal fellowship with Him,-they regard all this as the climax of bliss. It might have been; but it is by no means certain that it would have been. Observe, if we could have seen and heard our Saviour with our present knowledge of Him, the privilege would undeniably be great. But that is impossible. The true conception of Jesus as divine or human, Mediator or Master, has been the work of time. It is quite evident that, in the days of His flesh, the disciples and even the apostles themselves had very limited and imperfect views of Him. After His resurrection we see them clinging to old Jewish errors and asking Him when He will restore Israel. Is it likely, then, that had we lived when they did, we should have been free from their mistakes? Surely not. In all probability, had we actually heard the voice of Jesus, seen the countenance of Jesus, and witnessed the life of Jesus, we should not have understood them as well as we do now. We should have beheld Christ through the distorting media of prejudices, which would have prevented our knowing Him as well as we do now with the aid of such interpreters as the epistles of Paul, Peter, and John, to say nothing of the additional aid which sanctified intelligence and devout wisdom in every age has added.

Our self-imposed task is done. It has been our object to show that in every department of life there is compensation. Whether we look at the secular or the spiritual aspect of human experience, we shall discover that things make amends for each other. A wonderful system of balancing and counterbalancing is in operation for the general well-being of mankind.

"Great is the doctrine of equivalents;

Mighty and universal is the law