me know if anything particular occurs, and continue to use your influence with Vera in my favour. I rely upon you. And look here! silence about that packet. If you tell anybody that you have given it me-that it ever existed even-par dieu, I will cut your throat!" Then he went away, leaving the bonne in a state of mortal terror, for there was murder in his look, and she really believed he would be as good as his word. And this was the man she had undertaken to persuade Vera to marry! How much more reason there had been in the girl's mistrust than in her confidence! The fetching of Vera by Madame Senarclens and her daughter made the bonne, if possible, still more uneasy. Such a thing had never happened before; and the cause assignedto meet a gentleman who had known her father-did not tend to allay her fears. Who was this gentleman ? and how did he know that Vera was at La Boissière ? Was he another Corfe ? "MARY, THE MOTHER OF JESUS." SHORT SUNDAY READINGS FOR AUGUST. FIRST SUNDAY. Read Proverbs xxxi. 10 to 31. To every serious unprejudiced mind the mother of our Lord must be an object of reverent regard. But the only time she is referred to in the Epistles which were circulated for the edification of the churches, supplies no satisfaction to pious curiosity. "God sent forth His Son, made of a woman, made under the law." There is very little told of her in the Gospels, and in the Acts of the Apostles her name is once mentioned, Mary, the mother of Jesus," and that is all. Most prominent in the history and worship of the Church, the centre of a brilliant, rapturous, almost sentimental worship, a being to whom painter and poet pour forth the best treasures of their genius, whose nature and mysterious office engage the profoundest thought of the theologian, in the New Testament her life seems to be one of studied retirement, of shy reserve, according with those early works of Christian art in which the Virgin is always veiled. But there are occasions when the Mother of our Lord comes for a passing moment from the reserve and seclusion in which Scripture enshrines her; and there are words spoken by her which good men and women must hold precious. If, to-day, we look into the lives of men and women; if we look at their dress or want of it, their looks and gestures and employments, to find out what god or goddess they worship, we should certainly not say that the Madonna of the Bible had chief place and power. We might be disposed to think Paganism and not Mariolatry is the culte of the present. We might find that the ideals of Paganism, Aphrodite and Dionysus, are our ideals; and that we are practically bearing the symbols and insignia of heathenism: that our culture is human istic and our worship that of the flesh. We need a new Mariolatry, and voices again to cry to a sensual age, Hail, Mary! for it will mean, when reason uses it, Hail, Modesty ! Hail, Purity! Hail, watchful Motherhood! Hail, patient, heroic endurance! Of this worship we are sadly deficient, who interest ourselves in the annals of other courts than those of the temple, and who almost think that lewdness is not lewd when "swathed” in sentimental French. Nothing is told us in the Bible of the parentage of the Virgin Mary. We hear of a sister and of a cousin. That cousin, Elizabeth, belonged to the tribe of Levi. The Church has always maintained that the Virgin was of the tribe of Judah, and a descendant of David. The New Testament gives two pedigrees, which are traced through David, one in St. Matthew and one in St. Luke; but both these pedigrees are the pedigrees of Joseph, and Mary has no place in them. Although she was connected with a priestly family, the social position to which the Virgin belonged appears to have been humble. Her espousal to an artificer whose children had no birthright to high education: "How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?" ... "Is not this the carpenter?" seems to show that she belonged to the masses," and not to the "classes." It is a common belief that great men have always had uncommon mothers. It may be a true belief. But how little we know of the mothers of many of the greatest men! What do we know of the mothers of Moses and Isaiah, St. Paul and St. John? What do we 66 know of the mothers of Homer, of the great Greek poets, orators, philosophers, and artists; of Dante, Shakespeare, and Milton? Woman was had in honour, and place was made for women of great character in the early periods of Jewish history. In this respect Judaism is honourably distinguished from ordinary Orientalism. Woman commanded deep respect, especially woman as mother, in the great, simple days of republican Rome. But in the country which reached in a short time an intellectual eminence which has never had a rival summit-in Hellas-woman disappears from sight, as if hidden by the closed lattices of the harem, or, if she appears before men, it is with the effrontery of the hetaera. The great difference between the Greek women of Homer and the tragedians and the women of a later historical period has often been pointed out. But the philosopher Lotze says, Greece never produced a conception which, in seriousness and human worth, is comparable to the noble ideal of the Roman matron." 66 When we begin to study Christian history, we find the memories of the mothers of her great saints and doctors studiously and lovingly preserved. We recall to mind Lois, the grandmother of Timothy, and Eunice his mother; Macrina, the grandmother of Basil the Great, and his great brother, Gregory of Nyssa; Nonna the mother of Gregory Nazianzen, Anthusa the mother of Chrysostom, Monica the mother of Augustine; above all, "Mary, the mother of Jesus." Of all mothers her honour was greatest in the Son she bore. Even unbelievers will admit this. They must say she was the mother of the man who has been the most powerful the world has yet seen, of the man whose influence (even if it be as they say, waning), has been the most enduring, the most elevating, and the most inspiring known to history. If once it was asked, "What manner of child shall this be?" surely we may with deepest interest ask, "What manner of woman shall this be?" SECOND SUNDAY. Read 1 Sam. ii. 1 to 11, and St. Luke i. 46 to 55. Almost the very first word which Scripture records of the Mother of our Lord is a word of piety, a word of sweet maiden piety. It is a reverent assent to a divine revelation, and complete submission to a conviction which has entered her soul as a message from heaven, setting her apart to a consecrated life. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it unto me according to Thy word." The spirit of this noble expression of piety is not too powerful at the present day. By many it is thought that reverence is departing from our midst, and that in the general spirit of irreverence towards parents and age and venerable institutions and manners, we may see the promise of general irreligiousness. Strong-minded men and strong-minded women also, are what every community needs. But strong manners and strong voices and strong words are not proof that there is a strong mind behind them. Hysteria is often more noisy than health, and quacks more audacious than sages. We do not advocate feminine fusibility, nor that quality of character which, like the modeller's clay, can be shaped and altered by artist or menial, by intention or accident. Surely not such characterless character as that which may be moulded to-day into a Grace, and tomorrow into a Fury or a cruel Fate, is what the world needs. Nor yet the woman without heart, as every woman is who is without religion. A new species of woman appears to be arising, but not a product of natural selection, a species of which we have as yet, thank God, but a few specimens. It is the woman who tries to be a man and succeeds in being neither, like the mixed races which so often possess the faults of both, without possessing the virtues of either. What is needed is the spirit which is capable of reverence and tenderness and intelligent recognition of law, and of brave submission to the inevitable, the will of heaven. But when women are frivolous, when they turn away with repulsion from the care of home and children to toy in the meaningless badinage of fashion, or the dangerous familiarities of wanton coquetry, "too lavish of themselves "-then, indeed, Paganism is once more set up, and the decay which it starts begins to operate. Shakespeare tells us that the man who has no music in his soul— "Nor is not moved by concord of sweet sounds, But the woman who has no motherhood in her soul, who will say what she is fit for ? It happens at times that those who are childless are often more motherly than some who have sons and daughters. But the woman whose soul is untouched with motherhood is like a bit of dry-rot in a community. If only the great spirit of religion which takes hold of the mightiest realities inspires the souls of women; if only, whether married or unmarried, childless or circled about with offspring, they keep in mind that they have a Father in heaven whose daughters they are, then will dignity and sweet reverence, and readiness for duty, and brave resignation be ever seen in them. Let theirs be the practical worship of the Virgin as they take her words as a sacred guide, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it unto me according to Thy word." tellect, who have not learned the introspective habit of to-day, with its self-engaged, and self-tormenting melancholy-a hymn is something for everybody, and nothing is fit for public worship which is not fit for everybody. Dilettantism has no rights in the Church. The raptures or regrets of æsthetic piety, the songs of esoteric illumination must seek a private chauntry. Too often, however, our hymns are merely prayers. People sometimes say that it is unnatural to sing prayers; they say that no one would go to a monarch, a master, a parent, or a friend, and, singing, ask for a favour; but the people who say this seem to forget that they are always doing it themselves. They sing psalms and they sing hymns; but these psalms, these hymns, nearly always contain prayers, and sometimes are nothing but prayers. Take any version of the Psalms which is sung in churches or chapels, and has it been possible to eliminate from it the prayers of the original? Can the 51st Psalm be sung without the choir or congregation sing The recorded words of the Virgin are few. That she was thoughtful, serious, and given to deep reflection we know. She was not one to tell in every captured ear, of course in strictest confidence, the wonderful secret of her life. She had one, the holy cousin, Elizabeth, in whom she could confide, and to her, with the burden of her solemn expectations, she fled for sacred sympathy. "Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart." She did not claim consideration for herself on account of the great things which were spoken of her by venerable piety; she was no easy chatterer on solemn religious subjects. There is a garrulity in religion which seldom springs from the deepsing a prayer? Can Toplady's hymn, "Rock of of piety. We are not ashamed of our religion, because we keep it, like our deepest human love, from common sight. "Enter into thy closet," is the command of the heart filled with solemn emotions of religion. The day may come when we must stand forth from our shy, brooding devotion, as it comes sometimes when bashful tenderness rushes forth to confession and fears not proudly to tell its shielded secret, even if tears fill the eyes because it has been compelled to do violence to its reserve. But the brookbabblers of religion, whose piety is no deeper than the skin of their tongue, and whose heartless, worldly conversation is embroidered with the passementerie of pious expression; who think themselves so good, and who also think that you think them so good-these are the degraders and destroyers of true religion. Ages," and the line, "Wash me, Saviour, or I die," or Watts's words, "Pardon my sins before I die, and blot them from Thy book," can these words be sung, and yet the singer not sing prayers? We may freely admit into our service of song whatever will help to create or strengthen religious feelings and intentions, be they penitential or prayerful; but if we do not find a place for hymns in the proper sense of the word—that is, songs in honour of God and delight in His gracious majesty-there is a positive and damaging imperfection in our service. The "Magnificat" is a type and model of what our hymns in church should be; its form is the old Hebrew form, then passing away; its spirit is that of youth, of freshness of vision, of abounding bright-eyed energy. There is no pessimism in this morning hymn of Christianity it is like that hymn of the world's young day, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy. If it be asked, The mother of our Lord was a poet. The beautiful hymn which still has a frequent place in Christian worship is by her, and is another illustration of the meditative, reverential, mystical spirit whose steady fire burned within her. The "Magnificat" is the first Christian hymn-it is a hymn in the exact sense of the word; for a hymn the originally means a poem sung in praise of the gods or of heroes. St. Augustine's definition of a hymn is "praise to God with a song." A hymn is something which may be used by all sorts of people-by ignorant people, and people with no subtlety of in "What this strong music in the soul may be; answer is— "Joy, joy, that ne'er was given, Save to the pure, and in their purest hour." And such was she, who sang the "Magnificat," and in it taught the Church for evermore the way to sing. THIRD SUNDAY. Read Luke ii. 42—52, and 1 Tim. iv. 1-5. Such natures as that of the blessed Virgin are not exempt from sorrow. Indeed, the capability of great spiritual exaltation is often mated with one of equal spiritual depression. "But as it sometimes chanceth, from the might The noblest spirits, to whom have been "My apprehensions come in crowds; Have power to shake me as they pass. hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing." has long gone by, who sees the ruin of all Let every mother whose joy in childhood the bright hopes of the past, whose son or daughter is a deep regret, learn this lesson, never to give up pursuit of the lost one until it be saved. And if it have passed away from this human scene, still let them follow on with loving hope, knowing that the great Shepherd can accomplish the work which was too much for them-can save the lost. For thirty years it seems that the Lord abode in the home of His mother. Joseph is never named again after Christ was twelve years old, and we can scarcely help believing that Mary had been long a widow when He began His ministry. More than once brothers of our Lord are spoken of. The fellow townspeople speak of well-known brothers and of sisters also. But the Church has been incapable of believing that our Lord had real brothers and sisters, as though the holy Mother would have been less holy if there had been given to her more sons than one. He who cherishes a living mother's love, or the memory-love of one departed, image to him of stainless sweetness, like the lily of the valley, will not understand what is meant by such a thought. It cannot be denied that a low view of marriage has seldom been absent from the Church. Marriage has been regarded as a concession to human weakness, and not as a realisation of Divine purpose; not as the perfect but as the allowable condition. Next to the prerogatives of bodily suffering or martyrdom came, in the estimation of the early Church, the prerogatives of the single life. "The first reward," says St. Cyprian, to the virgins, "is for the martyrs an hundredfold; the second sixtyfold is for yourselves." The tendency of the Church has ever been to put marriage as second at least to singleness. But we must not follow the Church in this. Marriage or singleness have no more of themselves to do with saintliness than height or complexion. Even Keble, a married presbyter, seems to regard marriage as only second to singleness, for he teaches that if the married are true and good, God will take them to Himself as if they had never been wedded. "And there are souls that seem to dwell Such wedded souls our God shall own, God will own the faultless for His whether wedded or virgin. But it would be just as true to turn Keble's verse the other way round, and say, "Such faultless virgins God will own, For wedded saints around His throne." Different lots are apportioned to men, and one chooses the uncompanioned path and another clasps a kindred hand. But it is not true that of itself singleness is purer or holier than marriage. Each may carry out a noble ministry of good, and each is bad when it is selfish. FOURTH SUNDAY. Read St. John ii. 1-5, and St. Matthew xii. 46-50. The last word of the Virgin we ever hear was spoken at a wedding in Cana. The story we need not recount. It is simply domestic, and shows the mother of our Lord in her care for the comfort of those about her. It shows that she had suspicions, it may be convictions, that her Son, now leaving His home for the first time, and taking an independent attitude, was possessed of mysterious powers. "Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it." We cannot help wondering what real perception she had of the calling and true greatness of her mysterious Son. We can fairly tell what the women of Israel thought the great deliverer of their nation should be. We have no reason to conclude that the revelations made to the Virgin were understood in any other way than the great revelations of the Old Testament were generally understood. We know from her hymn, the "Magnificat," that her mind was filled with the old religious poetry of her race, which ever sang of a great Deliverer and Ruler one day to appear. But that she expected that the Son of the Highest, who was to sit on the throne of His Father David, would remain a poor man without office of State or sword of State; that He should go wandering about followed by a crowd of poor people, talking in parables and words which at times baffled comprehension; that He should irritate and alarm the heads of Church and State; that He should be executed as a heretic and blasphemer; and that after a time He should be regarded as One with God and an object of worship, is inconceivable. God gives His revelations, even to His most highly favoured servants, gradually. We have no reason to believe that the Virgin received Divine revelations in any other way or order than the way and order in which apostles like Peter and John received them. The Vir gin was not an attendant upon her Son in His Divine ministry. She was present at its intimates that she does not understand Him, commencement, but at the marriage the Lord that there is nothing in common between them as to the modes of His procedure, "Woman, what have I to do with thee? Mine hour is not yet come." Romanists and Protestants have wrangled over these words, one trying to prove that there was a want of respect and reverence in the manner of address, and the other advocating its perfect propriety. We may say at once there was no disrespect in the title "Woman." We cannot conceive that He who was so tender to women, and soothed their sorrows, and was gentle to their faults, and was grateful for their loving ministry, could be harsh to His own mother. Of all the great masters of the world there is not one who can compare with Christ in His attitude to women. Socrates is the name which men often place as though it were an equal by the side of Christ, but the story which Xenophon tells of Theodota we read with repulsion. Mohammed is the founder of a great religion and of enduring influence; but after the death of Kadiyah, his marriages are blots. And as for the prophet of the new dispensation with its "Service of man" and its "Worship of woman," his example does not command our reverence, and the blindest Catholic may well prefer the worship of the Virgin to the culte of Madame Clotilde de Vaux. If ever the rights of women were practically acknowledged, it was by Him who never seemed to condescend as to an inferior being in dealing with them. To Him they were equals. Some have treated them as the tool and others as the slave of man; He treated them as faithful friends. There is nothing like it in history. There are no sentimentalities, nothing at all like the intercourse which some religious leaders and guides have held with women. There are none of the erotics of maudlin mysticism; none of that pious, caressing effusion which is so often offensive in ecclesiastics. It is something unique in the history of the world. surrounded by faithful women is something alone, it has no parallel. Too lofty for artist to depict, it is not too austere to be reverenced. But when Christ said to His mother, "What have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come," He did intimate that the principles which were to rule Him were unknown to her. We must not be surprised Christ |