have the child's heart, and stand in the child's position. In Jesus
Christ the 'must' was not an external one, but He 'must be about His
Father's business,' because His whole inclination and will were
submitted to the Father's authority. And that is what will make any
life sweet, calm, noble. 'The love of Christ constraineth us.' There
is a necessity which presses upon men like iron fetters; there is a
necessity which wells up within a man as a fountain of life, and
does not so much drive as sweetly incline the will, so that it is
impossible for him to be other than a loving, obedient child.

Dear friend, have we felt the joyful grip of that necessity? Is it
impossible for me not to be doing God's will? Do I feel myself laid
hold of by a strong, loving hand that propels me, not unwillingly,
along the path? Does inclination coincide with obligation? If it
does, then no words can tell the freedom, the enlargement, the
calmness, the deep blessedness of such a life. But when these pull
in two different ways, as, alas! they often do, and I have to say,
'I must be about my Father's business, and I had rather be about my
own if I durst,' which is the condition of a great many so-called
Christian people--then the necessity is miserable; and slavery, not
freedom, is the characteristic of such Christianity. And there is a
great deal of such to-day.

And now one last word. On this sweet 'must,' and blessed compulsion
to be about the Father's business, there follows:

III. The meek acceptance of the lowliest duties.

'He went down to Nazareth, and was subject to them.' That is all
that is told us about eighteen years, by far the largest part of the