y more than its Greek equivalent, [Greek: aidos], that noble
pre-Christian ethical term which lay ready and waiting to be glorified
by the Gospel. But let Self-respect be your principle and your practice,
and it will leave its impression, by whatever word the impression may be
described. Let the man be seen by those who are about him, and who in
one way or another wait on him, to be _quite simple while quite refined_
in ways and habits; to be active and wholesome in the hours he keeps; to
hold self-indulgence under a strong bridle (shall I say, not least the
self-indulgence which cannot do without the stimulant and without _the
pipe_?); and he will be in a fair way to commend his message indoors.
Let him be seen, without the least affectation, but unmistakably, to
find his main interests, within doors as well as without, in his Lord
and His cause and work; to be the avowed Christian at all hours; and he
will be doing hourly work for Christ. With it all, let him be seen to be
"gentle to others" while "to himself severe"; let him, while always
self-respectful, be always watchfully CONSIDERATE; and his light will
shine; he will be an OEcolampadius, a _House-light_, indeed.

CONSIDERATENESS.

On that last point I must dilate a little; on the point of
Considerateness. I remember a conversation a few years ago with one of
our college servants, an excellent Christian woman, truly exemplary in
every duty. She was speaking of one of my dear student friends now
labouring for the Lord in a distant and difficult mission-field, and
giving him--after his departure from us--a tribute of most disinterested
praise: "Ah, Sir, he _was_ a consistent gentleman!" And then she
instanced some of my friend's consistencies; and I observed that they
all reduced themselves to one word--Considerateness. He was always
taking trouble, and always saving trouble. He was always finding out how
a little thought for others can save them much needless labour. The
things in question were not heroic. The thoughtfulness for others
concerned only such matters as the bath, and the shoes, and the clothes,
and some small details of hospitality. But they meant a very great deal
for the hard-worked caretaker, and they were to her a means of quite
distinct "edification," upbuilding, in the assurance that Christ and the
Gospel are indeed practical realities. I break no confidence when I add,
by the way, that my friend had not always been thus "a consistent
gentleman