There cannot be this attractive spirituality, unless it be free from selfishness. It is Christ's presence alone whch can give this religious fascination to the character; where self is prominent, Christ has withdrawn. Naomi was remarkably unselfish. Her daughters-in-law desire to return with her, but she has no happy home in which to welcome them as her guests; for her the future is clad with gloom. She returns desolate, to weep over the past. Why should they be required, or allowed, to participate in her sadness? If a cloud must darken over her future life, it need not darken over theirs. They are young and hopeful. They may marry again, and among their own kindred find those new ties which Naomi cannot furnish if they accompany her. No, she will not draw them into trouble for her sake.

There was a rare forgetfulness of self in all this. If Naomi would have felt any companionship pleasant in her widow's cottage at Bethlehem, surely it would be theirs who had been wedded to her lost sons. The common sorrow would have united their hearts, and many a moment of soft melancholy might have been spent in recalling memories of the departed. Naomi resolved to forego this consolation. resolved to suffer alone, and to deprive herself of the society of these dear sympathisers. In this she showed how right principles can exert their power even in sorrow which is essentially selfish.

Yet

She

You may notice that she had no objection to these youthful widows marrying again. She did not counsel them to remain in a widowed state. She alluded to the house of their future husband. She supposed they would find new partners for the journey of life, and she was willing it should be so. Had she been selfish she would not have liked to contemplate the probability of this. She would have had some strange notions of second marriages; notions traceable to selfishness. Mark how pleasantly this "pleasant one" speaks of

"the house of the husband." She calls it the Wife's Rest. It is a beautiful comparison; would that every wife's experience found it always a true one. But some husbands make it impossible for home to be peaceful and refreshing. And some wives are anything but halcyons, and so the stream of domestic life does not flow on at all tranquilly.

Naomi is prudent. She describes the disadvantages of a return with her. She is far from availing herself of the excitement of her daughters' minds. If their judgment is influenced by their feelings, hers can still hold the balances true. She will not let them, in the hurry of their love and sorrow, do what in calmer moments they may repent of. She wishes them to count the cost, lest when too late, they shrink from the sacrifice. So did the Lord Jesus; for example, to the scribe that expressed his resolution to follow Him wherever He went: "Foxes have holes, birds of the air their nests, I have not where to lay my head—can you wish to follow Me?"

This is a needful precaution. Religion does not want Pliables, who will go a little way when the road is easy, but cannot grope through sloughs of despondency. Better not to begin at all than to stop half-way. One would not of course wish to deter men from becoming disciples; but in all honesty, one would desire they should know what the cost will be. The way to heaven is not through a paradise, but "through much tribulation." He that will be godly must not expect the smiles of men; "he must suffer persecution." The follower of the Saviour may not dance along upon roses, "he must take up his cross daily," and with painful though loving steps, go after Jesus.

When the real character of the spiritual life is clearly and minutely pourtrayed, it becomes a touchstone of piety. It brings the candidate for eternity into the valley of decision. There is little need to say, "Choose ye," for the heart instinctively makes

choice of Christ, if its love for Him be supreme; or, of the world, if its love for things present hold the sway. Orpah's devotedness to Naomi could not stand the test. Excitement had made her imagine she was ready to leave Moab; calmer reflection convinced her she had not been rightly in earnest. She kissed her mother-in-law, and silently retraced the few steps she had taken from her home and her gods.

"But Ruth clave unto her." She had principle as well as feeling. Her love for Naomi was connected with a religious spring. She was ready to abandon her idols; Orpah had merely felt an impulse to accompany Naomi. The one was excited, the other converted. Two vastly different states of mind, although people often mistake the former for the latter.

But Naomi is still afraid that Ruth does not thoroughly comprehend all the results of her decision. She tries her further, and by a still severer test, her sister-in-law's example. "She is gone back unto her people and unto her gods; return thou." Ruth nobly bore this trial. Many would have said, "If Orpah goes with Naomi, I will do so too; if she returns, no one can say I love Naomi less than she does, if I return also."

There are many Orpahs, distressed at the thought of separation-like the young man in the Gospel story, who went away sorrowful-yet in heart and life going back to their gods, And there are many upon whom the conduct of these Orpahs has a great influence. How many a young person goes astray, because a brother or sister has previously wandered!

I beseech you, dear reader, consider the responsibility of your example. What you do may make a track in which hundreds of other feet will hasten to tread. If this track be a wrong one, the blood of souls may rest upon your head. If this track be a right one, blessings may hover over you as having "allured to brighter worlds and led the way."

N

Ruth is in earnest. She binds herself by immediate covenant to keep close to Naomi. She will have an identity of interests. In pilgrimage, in residence, in companionship, in worship, in death, and even in the grave, Naomi and Ruth shall be one. Follower after Christ, does this describe your covenant? It ought to do so. Are you willing that it should? Will you go wherever Jesus leads? Will you abide wherever Jesus lodges? Shall his people, in poverty, in shame, in danger, be recognized by you as your people? Shall his Father be your Father? Will you be crucified with Him? Will you when you die lie in his sepulchre, "sleeping in Jesus"?

Then Naomi, "when she saw that she was stedfastly minded to go with her, left off speaking unto her." She no longer tried to change her resolution. She welcomed her anew to her heart, still dearer, because one with her in the true faith.

"So they two went"-they two, how often they wished it had been they three; but alas! one had back to her gods-" until they came to Bethlehem."

gone

It was the harvest season. The binders of sheaves were busily at work, and the grateful gleaners were busy too, and very happy. But news soon ran through the little city of Bethlehem, and through the cornfields near it-Naomi has come back!

It made quite a sensation. The people ran in from the nearest fields, and joined those who had remained at home, in welcoming their long lost countrywoman. Yet their welcome was rather strangely expressed. They said in astonishment, as they marked the poor, careworn, drooping widow, "Is this the pleasant one ?"

Ah, it was too much. It made Naomi think of the past it opened the wound which was slightly closing. She had gone from Bethlehem to escape want, she returns to her native country, to feel such want as money cannot relieve. She had left ten years ago, then calling herself poor; but that poverty was riches

compared to the penury she now feels.

"I went out

full," she mournfully replies, "and the Lord hath brought me home again empty."

They still can only look in sad surprise and say, "Is this the pleasant one ?"

66

Ah," said the poor widow, "call me not the pleasant one,' call me 'bitterness,' for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me."

"And still they said, "Is this the pleasant one ?"

"Oh, why," said the miserable Naomi, "why call ye me the pleasant one, seeing the Lord hath testified against me, and the Almighty hath afflicted me ?"

How many like her, are writing bitter things against themselves, taking their texts from the great Bible of Providence! Yet, it is not true that God ever deals bitterly. He deals in love, though He chastens. But there is no bitterness in his plan, nor in the visitation of his rod. All is the sweetness of love.

Naomi was in too much newly awakened sorrow to reason wisely, or she might have thought, "These afflictions are evidently part of very merciful divine arrangements; they have been the means of gaining another servant for Jehovah, of saving a soul from the darkness and danger of worshipping Chemosh." sepulchre where Naomi had buried her heart's best treasures-was it not the cradle of Ruth's new life?

The

W. M. W.

A CAUTION FOR CROSS-BEARERS.

WELCOME the cross of Christ, and bear it triumphantly; but see it be indeed Christ's cross, not thy

own.