was not so long ago since these very brethren had sought to have Him arrested as a madman. And now, for the ten days between Ascension and Pentecost, that company continues in united prayer. Their hearts are changed, their doubts have passed away, the command of Jesus is of supreme importance now. They are waiting for the promise of the Father, for the impending baptism of the Holy Ghost.

BUT

one preparatory act still remained to be done. The number of the disciples was not complete. The little band must be at its full strength when the Spirit of God touched them with sevenfold power. So Peter rises-the same, and yet how changed! How different from the impulsive, boisterous Simon! He is spokesman yet (such men are chieftains always), but a great fall has bowed him to the dust, and a great love has set him on a rock, and there is a quiet dignity of sweet restraint about him now, that makes him ten times the man he was in Galilee. He would have hurled hard names at Judas once. Now Judas 'was guide to them that took Jesus.' He would have pictured his doom in fiery colours once. Now Judas has just gone 'to his own place.' If ever a man came out of the darkness glorified, I think that man was gallant Simon Peter. At Peter's request, then, and after a brief sermon, a disciple was chosen to fill the place of Judas, and we may note these two features of the action. Firstly, every one present had a hand in it. They all prayed and all gave forth their lots. Secondly, the qualification of the disciple was twofold-he must have companied with the Lord Jesus from His baptism, and he must have been a witness of the Resurrection. Matthias was chosen. The lot fell on Matthias. Can the reader cite instances of the lot from the Old Testament? It was entirely discarded after Pentecost, and I think that the Moravians are the only body of Christians who still practise the casting of the lot.

AND now three simple lessons from the chapter.

Firstly, God does not want us to be always gazing. The disciples would have stayed on the Mount of Transfiguration, but a demoniac boy was waiting at the foot. The women would have lingered where their Lord was laid, but they were bidden to depart with the glad news that Christ was risen. So here the two men in white apparel said, 'Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing?—have you no duties to fulfil at home, and do you not know that Christ will come again?' Secondly, remember there are unknown disciples. No man on earth knows who Matthias was. There is not a trace of him in any Gospel; we never meet him in history again. Yet he had been with Jesus since His baptism, and seen Him after His rising from the dead; and now it is the unknown follower who is chosen, to take the honoured place of a disciple. God, then, has many hidden servants. We do not know them, but the Master does. If they are faithful in the toil that no one sees, they shall have the ten cities by and by. Lastly, note there is purpose in God's delay. For ten days the disciples had to wait. God did not send the Holy Spirit at once. It must have been hard to abide in that upper room and keep the glorious secret of Ascension. Yet the ten days were educative days. The power of fervent prayer was realised; the company were knit into a surer brotherhood upon their knees; the glory of Christ shone on them more transcendently. There was a deep purpose in that delay of God. He had a fatherly meaning in His tarrying. And whenever in our life the delays of heaven seem hard, we do well to remember that upper

room.

U

FORTY-SECOND SUNDAY

N°

Morning

PLOT AGAINST THE JEWS

Passage to be read: Esther iii. 1-15.

OTHING is known about this Haman who now figures so conspicuously in the story. He was some court officer who had won the favour of Xerxes, and been swung into eminence by the king's caprice. We do not know much about David Rizzio, yet Rizzio had extraordinary influence with Queen Mary. So Haman had prospered amid the intrigues of Shushan, till Xerxes could not do enough for him. The royal command was given that the court was to reverence Haman; and that means far more than that all were to do him honour. It means that a kind of worship was to be rendered him which would almost put Haman in the ranks of the divinities. Now Mordecai had lost much in Persia; the life there had destroyed many ideals for him. But he was still a Jew, proud of his Jewish ancestry, and filled with the passionate faith of the true Jew in the one living and true God. It was impossible for him, then, to worship Haman. All the stubborn heroism of his Jewish heart awoke when the command was proclaimed through the palace courts. His conscience could yield to Xerxes at a hundred points. But on this point he was like adamant.

WORD of this was speedily brought to Haman. An

Eastern court is full of spies and flatterers. And Haman, who had caught the habit of mad anger from his master, broke into uncontrollable passion on hearing of it. His first thought was to have Mordecai slain; but then a far larger and sweeter revenge suggested itself. If Mordecai had refused because he was a Jew, must not every Jew secretly be a rebel? Haman determined on rooting out the Jews who still dwelt in large numbers throughout the Persian Empire, but when he came to King Xerxes to get the needed mandate, he was far too crafty to tell his real motive. The Jews were disloyal subjects-that was the charge he lodged. It was not against Haman but against Xerxes that they sinned. That was not the first time, and it was not the last, that persecution took up the cry of Traitor.' We marvel at the indifference of Xerxes. That he should have granted permission for such murder seems inexplicable. But we have known Sultans who were not profoundly sorry when the Christians of Armenia were massacred, and Xerxes was probably a worse man than the Sultan. Permission was given. The royal seal was pledged. Couriers went out post-haste throughout the empire. On a certain day, and all upon the same day, the Jews in Persia were to be utterly wiped out. What came of it all we shall see in our next lesson. Meantime let us note one strange coincidence. The plot was laid on the eve of Passover-the thirteenth day of the first month (v. 12). Was that the date of any other plot? Was no other work of darkness hatched then? The 'wheel had come full circle' for the Jews, when on that date they plotted the death of Christ.

FIRST note, then, the truth of the old proverb, that no man is so angry as he who is in the wrong. Haman had not a single title to reverence; he was nearer

kin to a demon than a god; yet when one official of the court refused to honour him, instantly we find him 'full of wrath' (v. 5). Had he been conscious that he deserved his honours, he would have taken this refusal very differently. It was just because our Lord was Son of God, that He would not strive nor cry nor lift up His voice in the streets. But Haman knew how insecure he was; he knew how utterly false were these divine ascriptions, and that made him feverish to assert his dignity. Cain was angry and he slew his brother. Naaman was angry when he heard about the washing. Herod was angry when the wise men failed him. Haman was full of wrath at Mordecai. All these men (and many more in Scripture) were fighting against goodness and against God, and they were angry just because of that. Will you remember that the next time you are passionate? Will you recall that in the next fit of temper? Will you ask yourself,' Am I not cross to-day, just because I am disobedient or unkind?' There is an anger that is very righteous. There is a wrath which is the wrath of the Lamb. But generally (and almost always with children) when we are angry we are in the wrong.

NEXT mark how far the influence of our acts may

reach.

That was one great lesson which Mordecai learned. I am sure he never thought of involving others, when he refused to do obeisance to the favourite. It was a small matter; the world would never hear of it; at the most there would be another court quarrel over it. Little did Mordecai think, when he refused, that in a day or two the couriers would be galloping with their sealed letters to every Persian hamlet. Is not that a parable of how our actions spread, until like the ripples they break on every shore? The couriers of God are far more swift and certain than the Persian horsemen who went at Haman's bidding. Our actions, for good or evil, radiate