dost thou judge thy brother," says Paul, "for we shall all stand
before the judgment-seat of God." Paul does not mean that God will
punish him and that we may rest satisfied that our enemy will be
turned into hell fire. Rather does he mean, what we, too, feel,
that, reflecting on the great idea of God, and upon all that it
involves, our animosities are softened, and our heat against our
brother is cooled.

One or two reflections may perhaps be permitted here on this passage
in Mrs. Butts' history.

The fidelity of Clem's wife to him, if not entirely due to the New
Testament, was in a great measure traceable to it. She had learned
from the Epistle to the Corinthians that charity beareth all things,
believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things; and she
interpreted this to mean, not merely charity to those whom she loved
by nature, but charity to those with whom she was not in sympathy,
and who even wronged her. Christianity no doubt does teach such a
charity as this, a love which is to be: independent of mere personal
likes and dislikes, a love of the human in man. The natural man, the
man of this century, uncontrolled by Christianity, considers himself
a model of what is virtuous and heroic if he really loves his
friends, and he permits all kinds of savage antipathies to those of
his fellow creatures with whom he is not in harmony. Jesus on the
other hand asks with His usual perfect simplicity, "If ye love them
which love you, what reward have ye? Do not even the publicans the
same?" It would be a great step in advance for most of us to love
anybody, and the publicans of the time of Jesus must have been a much
more Christian set than most Christians of the present day; but that
we should love those who do not love us is a height never scaled now,