royal excellence. "I will be lord over myself," says Goethe. "No one who can not master himself is worthy to rule, and only he can rule." History is full of the failures of monarchs to rule their own spirits, and thus command the respect and affection of their subjects. Peter the Great, for a trivial offense, struck his faithful gardener, wounding him so sorely both in body and mind that he took to his bed and died. Then the iron-hearted king broke down and wept, saying: "Alas! I have civilized my own subjects; I have conquered other nations; yet I have not been able to civilize or to conquer myself." "There are many men," saith Seneca, "that have subdued principalities, kingdoms, cities, towns, and countries, and brought them under their own mastery, but there are few that have guided themselves. There is a tiger within them that disgraceth and obscureth their outward conquest by reason of foul seethings and corruption in their own flesh: therefore, for a man to get the victory, and to overcome himself, is to get the victory, and to overcome all the world; for man is a microcosm, a little world." Man must rule his own spirit first, if he would rule the hearts of others to their good. He must be king of his own heart before he is fit to be a ruler of men, to say nothing of being a king and priest unto God.

SELF-DENIAL.

Self-denial is the opposite of self-gratification. It has not so much to do with the unlawful and sinful as with the permissible and pleasing. To deny self is not to please self in the direction of inclinations and indulgences that can result in no good. Christ set an example

of self-denial; he pleased not himself. The problem of life is often solved by this simple law. Many a man has made a miserable failure of existence by not curbing his desire to grasp more than his natural capacities could profitably employ. Unhappiness is sure to follow when self-pleasing is made the law of life. Self can be encouraged to think it not only wants, but deserves, the world; and when it gets an extravagantly large share, to turn in and fight for more, and in the end, like Alexander, sit down and cry because there are no other worlds to conquer.

Religiously, self-denial is of the utmost importance. Our Lord made it a primary condition of discipleship. "He that will come after me, let him deny himself." He must deny himself the privilege of saving himself, a matter extremely hard with some. He must deny himself the privilege of sitting aloof from necessary sacrifices

for the Lord's cause. To the self-denying, the will and glory of God and the salvation of men must ever be of more account than any self-interest or pleasure. "When the Christian practices self-denial he gratefully accepts and enjoys the gifts of his Heavenly Father, but keeps before him the idea of human benefit as connected with Christ's honor and glory." There is precious little self-denial in that mood or state which would give attention to religious things simply to escape the curse. It is the duty of all to shun hell and win heaven, but the self-denial which Jesus taught and exemplified by his life prompts to more than this. It not only conscientiously shuns the bad, but goes about doing the good. It not only refrains from sinful pleasures, but finds the highest joy in exercises of worship and Christian work. It says: "For me to live is Christ." It rules the body, the mind, and the heart. It keeps self in subjection, and holds the happiness and welfare of others in full view. One of the finest illustrations of this spirit is presented in the life of William Raymond, a missionary to Africa forty years ago, when missionary work involved greater sacrifices than now. Much had been said to him of the self-denial necessary to entrance upon such a life, but as he pondered over the idea he failed to find in his own consciousness the slightest trace of it. It troubled him. He knew that self-denial was a part of Christian duty, and as he compared his own experience with the common idea of it, he made up his mind that either he was not a Christian or else the popular notion was erroneous. While traveling from place to place he asked ministers and Christians for their idea of self-denial, and uniformly got an expression in substance like this: "When a Christian sees any thing after which his heart longs, though it may be right in itself, yet under the present circumstances is forbidden by the spirit of the gospel, a struggle ensues in the mind, and if he decides on the side of the gospel, and foregoes the pleasure of the thing thus forbidden, it is self-denial." Raymond could find nothing corresponding to this in his own mind. What he considered duty or the will of God he joyously set about with all his soul to do, and things incompatible with the spirit of the gospel fostered in him no semblance of desire. "When God called me," he says, "to go to Africa, my whole soul rose up to go. A blast and a mildew seemed to be spread over every thing here. I saw no beauty in any thing, unless it was in some way connected with my duty.

"I have heard of the peculiar emotions that missionaries have felt as they have looked upon their native land for the last time. I stood upon the deck of the vessel, and saw my native hills sink-sink until

they were entirely hid behind the mass of water that lay between us, with no other emotion than that of joy-joy that my Heavenly Father had counted me worthy to carry the lamp of life to those who sat in the region and shadow of death.

"While laboring in Africa, amidst all the trials incident to missionary life, I never had one longing desire after home nor the privileges of civilization. If the common acceptation of the term is correct, it is no self-denial for me to labor in that country. It is my pleasure and delight."

It is probable that most missionaries have a similar feeling. They surrender their all to the will of God, and his labor is their delight. And this condition of mind should characterize all Christians. When self-denial is but a yoke of bondage, heavy and galling, entirely incompatible with the spirit of the gospel, a man may well inquire whether he has ever known Christ. Jesus said: "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light." It certainly ought not to sour the spirit of a true Christian, or make heavy his heart, to give up selfish aspirations and schemes, and be content to go where God leads, and labor where he opens the field. Far less should it hurt the soul to surrender indulgences and pleasures that are harmful, or at least not helpful.

Self-denial, then, is a state of mind in which the whole heart, under every circumstance and on every occasion, prefers Christ and duty to every selfish or sensual gratification. It is a state of mind in which every gratification which is seen to conflict with the will of Christ is at once relinquished, without even the heart longing after it.

Faith is a state of mind, and yet there are particular acts of faith. In the same way, self-denial is a state of mind, and yet there are such things as particular acts of self-denial.

"True self-denial," says Rev. Dr. W. H. Anderson, "does not put on rags, or, in apparel or food or home, offend against the proprieties of life, the laws of society. It does not select a tub for its home, as did Diogenes, the dirty cynic, nor live on the top of a column, as did 'Simeon, the Stylite.' Nor does it require us to imitate the Baptist in his rough garb, or his hermit habits, or his wild Bedouin piety. It modestly avoids notoriety, and loves to hide its offerings for Jesus as bashfully and shrinkingly as the widow hid herself in the crowd, after she had placed her two mites in the treasury. This grace never disgusts us by appearing as a mendicant friar begging for cold victuals, and in neglect of that wholesome adage, so truthful and striking, 'Cleanliness is next to godliness'-and, we might add, is a twin brother. Nor does this excellent grace borrow the trumpet of the

Pharisee to proclaim its piety, or engage a street-corner for the exhibition of its humility of garb and spirit, as well as the ardor of its prayers. It is modest, like the flower hiding from the intense gaze of the sun, while it breathes its fragrance for the benefit of others. It takes into its wide field of operation every thing which is highly prized by men generally-fortune and reputation, ease and position, the pursuit of letters and exercise of power. Indeed, every temporal good is to be laid on the altar, and the most sacred associations of home and friends, and valued pursuits, and even life itself, must be made a consecrated offering to God."

SELF-CULTURE.

We are created with bodies to care for, minds to educate, consciences to develop, and souls to save. These duties appertain to every mature human life. Our bodies must be properly fed, and this implies not only sufficient food, but right food properly administered. It requires a whole life-time with some to learn what, when, and how to eat. There is no fixed rule for every body. Diet requires personal attention. The life is more than meat. Much depends upon organization, physical condition, age, and occupation. To eat just enough of that kind of food which will most conduce to health and vigor for our work is surely a matter of the highest importance to every individual. So of exercise. Our bodies were not made for inactivity. They are machines which need to be correctly run, else they clog, rust, and decay. We must ascertain how much walking or working they require in order to serve us longest and best. To neglect this is to take life in our own hands, and proceed with suicidal intent. Clothing, too, can not be left to adjust itself. The body is more than raiment. The dress should cover it adequately for protection, easily for comfort, and gracefully for comeliness. We should scorn to follow a fashion which conflicts with any of these, and we should be sensible enough to observe them all. We should keep clean. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Dirt within the body or without is offensive and unhealthy. It is an abomination to a rational being in a world abounding with the elements of purity. We should rest and sleep. Sleep is tired nature's We are more than ourselves in sleep. We take on new vigor then. Our minds seem to be more powerful. Who in his waking hours can attain to the imagination of his dreams? Well does Sir Thomas Browne say: "The slumber of the body seems to be but the waking of the soul. It is the ligation of sense, but the

sweet restorer.

liberty of reason; and our waking conceptions do not match the fancies of our sleep."

The education of our intellectual faculties is a prominent part of self-culture. We thus enlarge our capacities for usefulness and enjoyment. We are to train ourselves not only to think, but to think rightly; not only to acquire knowledge, but to retain and utilize what we acquire. To be a knowing dunce is about as vain as to be a forgetful fool. Knowledge is a power for good if applied in the right direction. It is a source of happiness when turned to advantageous account. We should seek to learn what others have known, and to originate ideas of our own. We should cultivate our memories, and make them serve us faithfully in retaining the useful and pure; they will keep enough of the worthless and bad any way. We should curb our imaginations when running in the wrong direction, and train our fancies to be sometimes at rest. We should cultivate a taste for the wholesome and pure, and moderate all our instincts and passions in accordance with the law of right. Our meditations should be chiefly on our duties, and our resolves mainly in the line of energetic work. Pastime and pleasure are not to be ignored, but life is too real and earnest to make them worthy of serious thought. St. Paul had the right perspective of active intellectual status when he wrote to the Philippian brethren to think on whatsoever things are honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report. All virtue and praise to him who broods over such things! He is culturing his mind for the highest excellence, and laying the foundation of the purest morality.

Our moral nature requires development. Conscience is largely what we make it. Rightly educated, it becomes a monitor for good. Wrongly instructed or neglected, it is of little avail. Jesus knew the place of conscience when he declared to his apostles: "The time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service." (John xvi, 2.) These things he said they would do because they would not know the Father, or Christ. Persecutors lack Christian conscience. They are strangers to that charity, love, and mercy which characterize those who are trained in the Gospel spirit. We must educate the conscience to discriminate nicely betwixt right and wrong, and strengthen it by quickly yielding when it impels toward the right. We must study the best examples, fix in our minds correct principles, practice the highest virtues, and yield unfaltering obedience to the law of God. Added to these things we must have the enlightening and purifying influences of the indwelling Spirit. Those who are thus trained and endowed have their senses exercised to