s about the Christian graces.
He lived them, He was them. Yet we do not merely copy Him. We learn
His art by living with Him, like the old apprentices with their
masters.

Now we understand it all? Christ's invitation to the weary and
heavy-laden is a call to begin life over again upon a new
principle--upon His own principle. "Watch my way of doing things," He
says; "Follow me. Take life as I take it. Be meek and lowly, and you
will find Rest."

I do not say, remember, that the Christian life to every man, or to
any man, can be a bed of roses. No educational process can be this.
And perhaps if some men knew how much was involved in the simple
"learn" of Christ, they would not enter His school with so
irresponsible a heart. For there is not only much to learn, but

MUCH TO UNLEARN.

Many men never go to this school at all till their disposition is
already half ruined and character has taken on its fatal set. To learn
arithmetic is difficult at fifty--much more to learn Christianity. To
learn simply what it is to be meek and lowly, in the case of one who
has had no lessons in that in childhood, may cost him half of what he
values most on earth. Do we realize, for instance, that the way of
teaching humility is generally by _humiliation_? There is probably no
other school for it. When a man enters himself as a pupil in such a
school it means a very great thing. There is much Rest there, but
there is also much Work.

I should be wrong, even though my theme is the brighter side, to
ignore the cross and minimize the cost. Only it gives to the cross a
more definite meaning, and a rarer value, to connect it thus directly
and casually with the growth of the inner life. Our platitudes on the
"benefits of affliction" are usually about as vague as our theories of
Christian Experience. "Somehow" we believe affliction does us good.
But it is not a question of "Somehow." The result is definite,
calculable, necessary. It is under the strictest law of cause and
effect. The first effect of losing one's fortune, for instance, is
humiliation; and the effect of humiliation, as we have just seen, is
to make one humble; and the effect of being humble is to produce Rest.
It is a roundabout way, apparently, of producing Rest; but Nature
generally works by circular processes; and it is not certain that
there is any other way of becoming humble, or of finding Rest. If a
man could make himself humble to order, it might simplify mat