money than He has given your neighbors? There was a certain poor widow who cast two mites into the treasury, and she has become a very popular character, and many of us are apt to talk complacently about our "mites." Softly, am I a poor widow? God has elected many of us to the privilege of dropping into His treasury on any one Sunday more money than that poor widow ever touched in all her life; and God will demand of them an accounting whether they have done it. When a Christian man holds money that honestly belongs to him, it ought to mean a greater advantage to the whole community, and to the cause of God, that that money has come to him, than if the same money had gone to any one else, or to some public treasury. An all-wise God has chosen this particular man to the office of purse-holder, and He chooses him for the benefit of all; and unless the all are benefited, there is something wrong with the office-holder. I wish we could learn to look upon our private property, if we have any, in this light, as one application of the great doctrine of divine election, one act of the God who maketh us to differ.

And so with any other distinguishing advantage -advantages of birth, of education, of artistic gift, of personal attractiveness, of social charm. A follower of Jesus will learn to value any such ad

vantage as he is able to use it to make others happier or better; to brighten and sweeten and gladden this world in which we are appointed to live.

But most of all the advantages of a Christian faith itself; for that is the highest of all the privileges to which God elects men, that we should know Christ as our friend and Saviour, and that our sins have been forgiven for His sake; for we must be elected to such privilege; we do not deserve it.

But what were we so elected for?-in order that we might thank God for calling us in and shutting others out? No, no; God forbid; but that we ourselves might hasten out with all speed to draw the others in. "Let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come." The invitation reads for all. And you and I have been elected to the privilege of carrying it to all-to all, as many as we can reach and draw. "Bring them all in " that is the official commission of every one of God's elect.

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CHAPTER III

ONE CHOSEN FROM TWO

Genesis xxv, 34: "Thus Esau despised his birthright."

THE one standard illustration of the doctrine of God's choice of men is His preference of Jacob over Esau. Paul sets it before us in the most vivid way in words borrowed from the prophet Malachi: "Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated." 1 He also sets this forward as the most staggering instance of such election, inasmuch as the choice was determined before the children were born. Men are apt to quote it in doctrinal discussion as the most conspicuous instance of arbitrary favoritism. Let us turn back to the original story, and see whether God's choice is there set forth as so unreasoning or unreasonable.

A good man, Isaac, had two sons. Esau, the elder, was the stronger, bolder, more attractive lad. Laughing at danger, he became a famous hunter. He was of generous impulses, and sure to be popular in any company. His father loved him, and was fond of him, and nothing tasted so good to the

1 1 Romans ix, 13. Malachi i, 2.

old man as a savory bit of venison which his son Esau had caught and dressed.

Jacob, the younger son, was a very different character; naturally timid, inclined to be deceitful, selfish, scheming. He was not an amiable lad and not popular. His mother loved him, perhaps for the reason that no one else could. One knows how it is with mothers.

The difference between the boys comes out strikingly in the scene before us. One day Esau comes home from the hunt hungry and faint, for he had killed nothing that day. Jacob was cooking a mess of pottage, and it smelled wonderfully good to a hungry man. "Serve me some," says Esau. And Jacob-here was his chance, a chance he had long been waiting for. He had never forgiven his brother for coming into the world a few minutes ahead. He longed himself to stand as his father's heir, to step at last into his father's place, and carry on the family line and inherit the family blessing. So he says, "Let me have your birthright, and you shall have my pottage."

What a man! A more generous fellow, Esau himself, I think, would have made place at the table for his worst enemy, if he had seen him so nearly dead of hunger. But that was not Jacob's way of doing business. Here was a good chance for driving a bargain, and he would make the most

of it. So he stirs the pot to let a little more of the fragrance escape into the air, and says softly, "Let me have your birthright, and you shall have all the pottage you want."

And Esau said-Jacob knew his brother well enough to guess that this was what he would say"Give me the pottage; what good will the birthright do me if I starve to death?" And then Jacob smiled a little to himself, as he helped his brother to all that he could eat; the costliest dish of soup that any man in this world ever sat down to. But Esau did not think much about it; he despised his birthright. "What does it amount to, anyway?" he thought; "Father Isaac may outlive both of us." It is a very unpleasant scene; Esau does not appear well, and Jacob cuts a very poor figure-worse than Esau, I thought, when I first read the story. Yet, on second thought, there is one good thing about that younger brother-he wanted that birthright. He would do anything, fair or foul, to get it; but with all his soul he wanted it. If once it could be his, would he sell it for a dish of soup? If you could have starved Jacob for a thousand years, and then tempted him with the richest feast ever spread on earth, and said coaxingly, "May I have your birthright now, if I give you all this?" the starving man, too weak to speak, would have found strength enough, somehow, to shake his head,