ion. And further than this, it is more agreeable to
the Christian temper to be satisfied rather to know and to be known by
a few, and to grow day by day in their esteem and affection, than to
desire one's name to be on the lips of many, though they profess
religion, and associate us with religious objects. And it is our great
privilege to have the real blessing in our power, while the fancied
good alone is difficult to be gained. Few Christians can be great or
can leave a name to posterity; but most Christians will, in the length
of their lives, be able to secure the love and praise of one or two,
who are to them the representatives of Him whom "having not seen they
love," and in whose presence, or at least in whose memory, they may
comfort their heart till He come. This doubtless has been the
happiness of many saints who have not even left their names behind
them. It was the privilege doubtless of St. Simon and St. Jude. They,
indeed, were not simply unknown to the world in their lifetime, but
even hated and persecuted by it. Upon them came our Saviour's
prophecy, that "men should revile them . . . and say all manner of evil
against them falsely for His sake[8]." Yet in the affection the Church
bore them, in the love they bore to each other, and, above all, the
praise of that Saviour whom they had followed on earth, and who named
them in the number of those who had continued with Him in His
temptations[9], and were written in heaven, they had a real glory, not
as the world giveth. Who can estimate, who can imagine the deep, the
wonderful, the awful joy which the approbation of Christ would impart
to them? When we consider how intimately they were allowed to
associate with Him, how they were witnesses of His heavenly
conversation through the days of His flesh, of His acts of mercy, of
His Divine words, of the grace, the tenderness, the sanctity, the
majesty, the calmness, which reigned within Him; of His knowledge, His
wisdom, His perfect love of God, His zeal for God's service, His
patient obedience,--and much more when they knew the dread secret of
what He was before He came on earth, what He was even while on earth in
presence,--to have had a smile, an encouraging word, from Him, was it
not a privilege to treasure in memory beyond any thing else, a
remembrance so bright that every thing else looked discoloured and dim?
and would it not have amounted to a loss of reason in them to have even
had the thought of