3io MAN'S CHIEF END
it's anything it is serving ourselves, not God. And yet we are impudent enough to call our beggings and chauntings "Divine service": we say, "Divine service will be ' performed ' " (that's our word — the form of it gone through) "at so-and-so o'clock." Alas! unless we perform Divine service in every willing act of life, we never perform it at all. The one Divine work — the one ordered sacrifice — is tojia. justice ; and it is the last we are ever inclined to do. Anything rather than that! As much charity as you choose, but no justice. " Nay," you will say, " charity is greater than justice." Yes, it is greater; it is the summit of justice — it is the temple of which justice is the foundation. But you can't have the top without the bottom; you cannot build upon charity. You must build upon justice, for this main reason, that you have not, at first, charity to build with. It is the last reward of good work. Do justice to your brother (you can do that whether you love him or not), and you will come to love him. But do injustice to him, because you don't love him ; and you will come to hate him.1
^| There is a little organism called volvox, which, in its con- struction, habits of life, and mode of reproduction, stands on the border-line between the animal and vegetable kingdoms. I suppose ever since it has been known, this little creature — so small that it can scarcely be seen with the unaided eye — has been bandied about between the two kingdoms. Why ? Because scientists have applied different tests. One has noted its posses- sion of green colouring matter, and has therefore claimed it for the vegetable kingdom, while another, noting its mode of repro- duction to be similar to that of some lower forms of animal life, has therefore claimed it for the animal kingdom. Like the volvox, many actions have been bandied about. Some claim that they belong to the kingdom of darkness, others that they belong to the Kingdom of God. Ought I to smoke, ought I to go to the theatre, ought I to drink intoxicating liquors, ought I to read my newspaper on Sunday? Ought I to cycle, tram or train on Sunday? Ought I to make my man or maid servant work on Sunday? Ought I to enter the public ballroom, or ought I to dance at all ? Ought I to accept bribes in business ? Bring the action to this test. Let this bright light shine upon it. Can I do this to the glory of God ? In other words, I am a follower of Christ, who summed up His lifework in the sentence, " I have glorified thee on the earth." 2
U Charles Marriott's unfailing good nature — but in fact it
1 Ruskin, The Crown of Wild Olive ( Works, xviii. 419).
2 G. Hay Morgan.
i CORINTHIANS x. 31 311
was his inveterate Christian consideration — really knew no bounds. Overwhelmed (as he always was) with all manner of work, he never denied himself to any one who saw fit to call on him, or wanted anything of him. "I see you are too busy. I will not disturb you," once exclaimed Edward King, — (afterwards Bishop of Lincoln, who was at that time an undergraduate of Oriel — "a royal fellow," as C. M. used to call him) — and was proceeding to leave the room. " That depends " (quietly rejoined Marriott) " on the relative importance of what / am doing and what you have come to me about." The reply aptly expresses what the speaker seems always to have felt — namely, that the twelve hours of every day had to be spent in God's service, and that he was not a competent judge beforehand of how God might be most acceptably served. He therefore always held himself in readi- ness to meet any demand which might by any one be made upon him for a measure of his time, or for a share of his attention.1
III.
A Christian Ideal in Everyday Life.
Eeligion recognizes no bisecting into sacred and secular. " Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." It is just as much a part of Christian duty to do one's weekday work well as it is to pray well. " I must be about my Father's business," said Jesus in the dawn of youth; and what do we find Him doing after this recognition of His duty ? Not preaching or teaching, but taking up the common duties of common life and putting all His soul into them. He found the Father's business in His earthly home, in being a dutiful child, subject to His parents, in being a diligent pupil in the village school, and later in being a conscientious carpenter. He did not find religion too spiritual, too transcendental, for weekdays. His devotion to God did not take Him out of His natural human relationships into any realm of mere sentiment : it only made Him all the more loyal to the duties of His place in life. We ought to learn the lesson. Eeligion is intensely practical. Only so far as it dominates one's life is it real. We must get the commandments down from the Sinaitic glory amid which they were first graven on stone by the finger of God and give them a