death are used by Jesus, we shall do well to have his 'secret' at hand for in his thoughts, on these occasions, it is never far off.
And now, too, we can see why it is a mistake, and may lead to much error, to exhibit any series of maxims, like those of the Sermon on the Mount, as the ultimate sum and formula into which Christianity may be run up. Maxims of this kind are but applications of the method and the secret of Jesus and the method and secret are capable of yet an infinite number more of such applications. Christianity is a source; no one supply of water and refreshment that comes from it can be called the sum of Christianity.
A method of inwardness, a secret of self-renouncement;—but can any statement of what Jesus brought be complete, which does not include that temper of mildness and sweetness in which both of these worked? To the representative texts already given there is certainly to be added this other: 'Learn of me that I am mild and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls!'[1] Shall we attach mildness to the method, because, without it, a clear and limpid view inwards is impossible? Or shall we attach it to the secret?—the dying to faults of temper is a part, certainly, of dying to one's ordinary self, one's life in this world. Mildness, however, is rather an element in which, in Jesus, both method and secret worked; the medium through which both the method and the secret were exhibited. We may think of it as perfectly illustrated and exemplified in his answer to the foolish question, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?—when, taking a little child and setting him in the midst, he said: 'Whosoever receives the kingdom of God as a little child,
- ↑ Matth., xi, 29.
