A service which springs from love finds many outlets. Such service may be characterised in various ways.
1. It is Spontaneous. — No service is so beautiful as the spon- taneous. We cannot subscribe to the doctrine that men are not to do good unless their heart is free to do it. Wesley called that " a doctrine of devils." We must do good when it goes against the grain, when our heart most vehemently protests. We must give when the coins are glued to our fingers, sacrifice when nature urges that we cannot afford it, forgive when we feel vindictive. Such service as this — unwilling, ungracious — God will not reject. But, after all, spontaneous service is the best — that which springs unforced, uncoerced, cheerfully from the heart.
^ In the intellectual sphere we know that splendid masterpieces are unforced, unlaboured ; they are marked by perfect ease and spontaneity. We feel sure that Shakespeare wrote the " Tempest " as a flower opens to the kiss of the sun ; that Shelley wrote the " Skylark " freely as the bird itself sings from the cloud ; that Mozart's music flowed from his mind as the wind makes music among the branches; that Turner's grand pictures sprang out of his brain as a rainbow springs out of a shower. Plodding workers, overcoming difficulties with deter- mination and fag, do respectable and valuable work, but it is still true that the grandest works cost the least. The spontaneous is more than the correct, inspiration is more than elaboration, a fountain has a glory beyond a pump. Mary's act was of the sublimest : it came welling forth from the depths of her soul, bom of a love of the purest, the divinest.^
Love much. There is no waste in freely giving, More blessed is it, even, than to receive.
He who loves much alone finds life worth living ;
Love on, through doubt and darkness; and believe
There is no thing which Love may not achieve.*
' J. Fearce. ^ Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Poems of Lovt and Lift.
38o THE GREAT TEXTS OF THE BIBLE
2. ^_is Self-Sacrijicvng. — It is marvellous how vital contact with Jesus will bring out the best that is in man or woman. Mary had already loved the Master, for sitting at His feet she had chosen that good part which was not to be taken away from her. His power had stirred her life to its very depths. Can she express the gratitude that is flowing like a flood through her heart ? Her act may well be called " the extravagance of gratitude." That the disciples considered it wastefully extrava- gant is proved by their criticism of her act, as the prosaic mind has always considered all great sacrifice.
But sincere gratitude is always utterly unreasonable. It will go to any length in seeking full expression. It never stops to reason concerning the wisdom of sacrifice. The cost of real sacrifice is never, can never, be counted. Its only question here is, " What can I do for Him who has done so much for me ? "
In the chea£er_m(wming sacrifice is giving up ; it is suffering it may be the suffering of real pain for some one or something. And this is sacrifice, let it be said. In the deeper,_richer mean- ing there is suffering too ; but that is only part ; and, however keen and cutting, still the smaller part. Sacrifice is love pur- posely giving itself, regardless of the privation or pain involved, that thus more of life's sweets may come to another. Sacrifice is love meeting an emergency, and singing because able to meet and to grip it.
^ A lady was calling upon a friend whose two children were brought in during the call. As they talked together the caller said eagerly, and yet with evidently no thought of the meaning of her words, " Oh ! I'd give my life to have two such children." And the mother replied, with a subdued earnestness, whose quiet told of the depth of experience out of which her words came, " That's exactly what it costs." Yet there was a gleam of light in her eye, and a something in her manner, which told more plainly than words that though she had given much, she had gotten more, both in the possession of the children, and in the rare enrichment of her spirit.^
^ Do we want an illustration of self-sacrificing love in our own time ? We may fall abashed before the high-born, gifted, and admired English girl who came to Kaiserswerth as a pupil, and then reproduced the same wonders of consolation and healing for sick and destitute governesses, not amidst the rural quiet and
* S, D. Gordon, Quiet Talks on Home Ideals, 161.
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sweet verdure of her own paternal home in Hampshire, but in a dismal street in London. Yet we ought all to remember that Floreuce Nightingale, too, only did what she could ; that, if we do that, God's honours are impartial ; that if we do not that, then ours is indeed the shame of the shortcoming. We follow this minister of angelic mercy along the horrid and bloody path of war to the banks of the Bosphorus, and read how, in the hospital of Scutari,