o have lived at that time--

"I think when I read the sweet story of old,
How when Jesus was here among men,
He took little children like lambs to His fold,
I should like to have been with Him then.

"I wish that His hand had been laid on my head,
That His arms had been thrown around me,
And that I had seen His kind look when he said,
'Let the little ones come unto me.'"

And yet, if Christ were to come into the world again, few of us
probably would ever have a chance of seeing Him. Millions of her
subjects in the little country of England have never seen their own
Queen. And there would be millions of the subjects of Christ who could
never get within speaking distance of Him if He were here. We remember
He said: "It is expedient for you (not _for Me_) that I go away";
because by going away He could really be nearer to us than He would
have been if He had stayed here. It would be geographically and
physically impossible for most of us to be influenced by His person
had He remained. And so our communion with Him is a spiritual
companionship; but not different from most companionships, which, when
you press them down to the roots, you will find to be essentially
spiritual.

All friendship, all love, human and Divine, is purely spiritual. It
was after He was risen that He influenced even the disciples most.
Hence, in reflecting the character of Christ, it is no real obstacle
that we may never have been in visible contact with Himself.

There lived once a young girl whose perfect grace of character was the
wonder of those who knew her. She wore on her neck a gold locket which
no one was ever allowed to open. One day, in a moment of unusual
confidence, one of her companions was allowed to touch its spring and
learn its secret. She saw written these words--

"_Whom having not seen I love_."

That was the secret of her beautiful life. She had been changed into
the Same Image.

Now this is not imitation, but a much deeper thing. Mark this
distinction, for the difference in the process, as well as in the
result, may be as great as that between a photograph secured by the
infallible pencil of the sun, and the rude outline from a school-boy's
chalk. Imitation is mechanical, reflection organic. The one is
occasional, the other habitual. In the one case, man comes to God and
imitates him; in the other, God comes to man and imprints Himself upon
him. It is quite true that there is a