between them. It is not a difference in the warmth, but im the character of affection. The former signifies the love based upon appreciation of another, the latter simple personal attachment. The one word would express the love that would give itself up for another; the second word that which gives itself up to another. The one would be a confident, the other a confiding love. The one would be represented if, in English, we said, "I am thy friend;" the other if we said, "Thou art my friend." It is the former of these words (ayanqv) which Christ here uses: "Simon, son of Jonas, art thou more my friend than thy fellow disciples ?" This was just what Peter had professed, "Though all should be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended." "I am ready to go with thee, both into prison and to death;" "Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee." He cannot Peter's reply shows how much he is changed. compare himself with others now. He will not even assert himself to be a friend, ready, for Christ's sake, to devote himself. He chooses the humbler trustful word (pie). "Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee!" Again, Christ asks him,-" If not more than these, yet art thou my friend at all? Is there any of the active, devoted love in thee? any of the passion that will assert itself in my behalf?" And still the same humble, clinging answer comes from Peter. Even this he will not affirm. How can he profess what he is ready for? how can he be confident who has so painfully learnt that there is nothing for him but meekly and gratefully to trust in Jesus-"Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee." Now, Christ takes Peter's own word; he will not wound him by reminding him of his past boastful professions; let it be as Peter would have it, the trusting affection of the disciple. "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" (piew) "Peter was grieved, because he saith unto him the third time, Lovest thou me ?" Surely, Jesus cannot doubt that. He must know that the disciple clings to his Lord. Christ must know that he is all in all to Peter. He saith unto him, "Lord, thou knowest all things. -thou seest my heart, thou knowest what sort of a man I was and am, how vain my self-confidence; thou knowest me to be weak, rash, changeful; but thou knowest, too, that under all my boasting, all my mistakes, there was love for thee, and that it remains. Lord, thou knowest that I cannot make professions, that I am heart-sick of professions, but thou knowest that this is true; thou knowest that I love thee." A very real distinction between the profession of love to Christ and its confession, is illustrated here. In profession, the person most prominent in our thoughts is "I, who make it;" in confession, "He, whose name I am confessing." The confession of love to Christ is the sweetest language that can fall from human lips. Its profession is painful to hear, it is full of danger, it is boastful, self-confident. This deserves to be borne in mind by those Nonconformists who regard Christian fellowship as a profession. Another noticeable thing is that love to Christ is not Peter's earliest confession; that it is the utterance of his tried maturity. To demand this as the password to Christian confidence; to set young converts on an estimate of their feeling towards the Saviour, instead of encouraging them to trust in him, is full of peril. Christian discipleship sometimes begins with love to Christ; and singularly blessed are they with whom it does. But in other ways are souls drawn to Christ; the weary go to him for rest, the guilty for pardon, the helpless for succour; the dissatisfied, who long for a better life, seek the life that is in Christ. Such will say "I trust in Christ," "I have found Christ," "I am following Christ;" but the words, perhaps, halt on their lips, "I love Christ." It is not for us to insist on their utterance. They are not for our ears, but for his. And he knows how, from the trusting, the obedient, and the earnest, to draw at length the full confession, "Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I love thee." In giving Peter the charge, "Feed my lambs, Feed my sheep," Christ was guarding him against a danger to which he was at this moment liable; the danger of sinking down into an indulgence of sentiment; of dwelling upon the words, "Thou knowest that I love thee," and forfeiting in this sweet humiliation his calling as an apostle and its prize. There is a subtle charm of self-humiliation; an ensnaring luxury of penitence. Men feel it in a self-assertive world. From the blare of trumpets, from the strife for mastery, from the restlessness of ambition, and the constant temptation to self-seeking; how blessed to retire to self-abasement before the Lord; how sweetly then from lowly lips falls the confession, "Thou knowest that I love thee." To cherish this life alone is very dangerous. Hence comes the pride that apes humility; hence self-pleasing under the garb of lowliness. Worse than the hypocrisy which disfigures its countenance that it may appear unto men to fast, is the subtle insincerity that disfigures itself that it may appear unto itself to fast. Christ sends Peter from confessing, as he sent Mary from adoring him, to do his work. The world is the true sphere for lowliness; loving labour among others is the school of self-humiliation; love of Christ is perfected in the activities of a human sympathy. There is an order, too, in Christ's thrice repeated charge, "Feed my lambs, Shepherd my sheep, Feed my little sheep." All were to be cared for; and all modes of watchfulness and help to be displayed. Fold as well as feed them; guide and guard and heal them; keep them from straying, strengthen the feeble, bind up the bruised, bring again that which is driven away, seek that which is lost. Here is seen the meaning of the struggle of contrition through which the erring apostle was made to pass. This work of shepherding was far higher, and needed a far deeper experience than the first fisher-work of catching men. Boldness of confession alone might qualify for that-Peter was fit for it. But it needed Simon, the son of Jonas, the man of profound self-knowledge, chastened by discipline, and subdued to considerate sympathy, for the place of pastor among the flock. The crown and perfecting of love to Christ is full selfsurrender. Peter is bidden look on and be ready for martyrdom. The story is told of him that he died upon a cross, crucified at his own request, with his head downwards, as being unworthy to die like his Lord. It is quite in harmony with his character as read in the New Testament. A peculiar tone and pathos attached to all his references to suffering for Christ's sake. He is more than patient, hopeful amidst persecutions; he glories in them, rejoicing to be partaker of Christ's sufferings. So was the self-will of the apostle entirely subdued. The eager, turbulent heart was quelled by advancing years; trial hallowed his spirit, and he glorified God by his death. When he was young he girded himself, and walked whither he would. How often he wandered, how far astray his hasty will led him! But when he could no longer go whither he would, when another girded him and carried him whither he would not, he accepted the appointment, and the surrender of himself was complete. To glorify God—so John implies—is the common privilege of the disciples. Not all need the struggle and the martyrdom. There are meek souls whose whole life is sacrifice, whose will is ever submissive. Others need a sharp discipline, the pressure of circumstances, the subduing power of tribulation. Whatever is needed will be given. This is the reason of the varied character of Christian living, and of Christian dying. There are those whose youth is serene and simple; their life a quiet ripening; age mellows rather than changes them; and their death is the peaceful close of a peaceful life. There are others whose wills are earnest, but often rebellious; in whom passion now rises to marvellous inspirations of Christian devotedness, now swells to turbulence; whose life is fitful and incomplete; in these the subduing influence of old age is often seen. Sorrow purges them, temptation tries and perfects. And death seems appointed as the completion of all; the chequered, troubled life is vindicated as a Christian life by the death that glorifies God. "And when Jesus had spoken this, he saith unto him, Follow me." When Peter had first heard these words from the Messiah's lips, he had gone after him gladly, dreaming of a throne. Now he knew he was following to a cross. But he followed; for it was the Master's voice he heard. The call of the Christian life, mysterious or hard, whatever it may be, is ever and unhesitatingly obeyed, because it is the Master's call. "If any man serve me, let him follow me." A. M. THE CHURCH-RATE QUESTION.-MR. IT is surely an anachronism that, after the passing of a Reform Bill which, it is predicted, will give us a democratic parliament, and just when, we are assured, a whole class of new questions will demand the attention of our statesmen, so old a bone of contention as the Church-rate question, should be almost the first parliamentary dish to be served up on the re-assembling of the House of Commons. If this be the fruit of the boasted "wisdom of parliament," what a satire is that well-worn phrase; for there is no public question which has so long been ripe for settlement as this; nor any which a vigorous liberal ministry, or a patriotically-minded legislature, could have disposed of with so little difficulty. Yet here it is, as old as the Reform Act which has just been set aside as practically effete, and no one with a reputation for political sagacity would like to predict that in 1869 "total abolition" and "equitable settlement" will not figure on the Liberal and Tory banners respectively, as they have done aforetime; with no other hope in regard to the result than that arising from the probability that a reformed parliament may, perhaps, vote Church-rates out of existence, as a nuisance which stands in the way of measures of pressing public importance. The apparent incapacity of the Church-rate doctors to prescribe any new remedy is illustrated by the fact that, notwithstanding the stimulus to inventiveness supplied by the approach of a general election, the bills of last session, and some previous sessions, are again on the table; Mr. Newdegate and Mr. Hubbard even taking the start of Mr. Hardcastle and Mr. Gladstone, in re-introducing measures which have no more chance of passing than their promoters have of becoming Fieldmarshals or Admirals of the Fleet. Mr. Hardcastle has no motive to seek after novelty; for a bill that has three times |