roof of their affliction,' meaning that it
constituted a proof of their Christian character; that is, by the manner
in which it was borne; and in it they had still 'abundance of joy,' for
the paradox of the Christian life is that it admits of the co-existence
of grief and gladness.

Again, Christian giving gives from scanty stores. 'Deep poverty' is no
excuse for not giving, and will be no hindrance to a willing heart. 'I
cannot afford it' is sometimes a genuine valid reason, but oftener an
insincere plea. Why are subscriptions for religious purposes the first
expenditure to be reduced in bad times?

Further, Christian giving gives up to the very edge of ability, and
sometimes goes beyond the limits of so-called prudence. In all regions
'power to its last particle is duty,' and unless power is strained it is
not fully exercised. It is in trying to do what we cannot do that we do
best what we can do. He who keeps well within the limits of his supposed
ability will probably not do half as much as he could. While there is a
limit behind which generosity even for Christ may become dishonesty or
disregard of other equally sacred claims, there is little danger of
modern Christians transgressing that limit, and they need the stimulus
to do a little more than they think they can do, rather than to listen
to cold-blooded prudence.

Further, Christian giving does not wait to be asked, but takes the
opportunity to give as itself 'grace' and presses its benefactions. It
is an unwonted experience for a collector of subscriptions to be
besought to take them 'with much entreaty,' but it would not be so
anomalous if Christian people understood their privileges.

Further, Christian giving begins with the surrender of self to Christ,
from which necessarily follows the glad offering of wealth. These
Macedonians did more than Paul had hoped, and the explanation of the
unexpected largeness of their contributions was their yielding of
themselves to Jesus. That is the deepest source of all true liberality.
If a man feels that he does not own himself, much less will he feel that
his goods are his own. A slave's owner possesses the slave's bit of
garden ground, his hut, and its furniture. If I belong to Christ, to
whom does my money belong? But the consciousness that my goods are not
mine, but Christ's, is not to remain a mere sentiment. It can receive
practical embodiment by my giving them to Christ's representatives. The
way for the Maced