d a peculiar and special work of grace, one which must
follow, not precede, conversion, and therefore not to be received by
the world. In this prayer the loving Master revealed to His immediate
disciples, and to those of all ages and climes, the burning desire of
His heart concerning His followers. The petition ascends from His
immaculate heart like incense from a golden censer, and it has for its
tone and soul, "Sanctify them through thy truth." His soul longed for
this work to be completed quickly. During the last days of His ministry
He talked frequently of the coming Comforter. He admonished them to
"tarry" until an enduement came to them. He knew that unless they were
energized with a power, to which they were as yet strangers, their work
would be worse than futile.

HE PRAYED FOR SANCTIFICATION.

It is for the SANCTIFICATION of the disciples that Christ prayed. He
did not ask that they might fill positions of honor and trust; He knew
that there is no nobility but that of goodness. It was more important
that the early preachers should be holy men than that they should be
respected and honored. He did not pray for riches for them; He knew too
well the worthlessness of money in itself. He did not desire for them
thrones, nor culture, nor refinement, nor name.

"'Tis only noble to be good.
True hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith than Norman blood."

So Jesus prayed that these men who had for three years been His daily
and constant companions should receive an experience which should make
them INTENSELY GOOD; not "goody-goody," which is very different, but
heartily and wholly spiritual and godly.

THE MEN WE LOVE.

The men whose names are brightening as the ages fly, were not men who
were always free from prejudices and blunders. They were not men, as a
rule, from university quadrangles nor college cloisters. They were not
the wise, nor the erudite, nor the cultivated, nor the rich. They were
the good men. Brilliant men tire us; wits soon bore us with their
gilt-edged nothings, but men with clean, holy hearts, fixed
convictions, bold antipathies to sin, sympathetic natures and tender
consciences never weary us, and they bear the intimate and familiar
acquaintance which so often causes the downfall of the so-called
"great" in one's estimation.

THE PERSONAL TOUCH.

We may forget an eloquent sermon pilfered from Massillon, but we will
never forget a warm handclasp and a sympathetic w