We are the children of God in proportion as we are in sympathy with those who are around about us, and in proportion as we bear with each other. How sacred is man for whom Christ died! And how ruthlessly do we treat him! O my brother, O my sister, O my father and mother, you are of me, and I am of you! We have the same temptations. We are walking to the same sounds. We are upon the same journey, out of darkness toward light; out of bondage toward liberty; out of sin toward holiness; out of earth toward heaven; out of self toward God. Let us clasp hands. Let us cover each other’s faults. Let us pray more and criticise less. Let us love more, and hate less. Let us love more and smite less. And by and by, when we stand in the unthralled land, in pure light, made as the angels of God, we will pity ourselves for every stone that we threw; but we shall not be sorry for any tear that we shed or any hour of patient endurance that we experienced for another. Not the songs that you sang, not the verses that you wrote, not the monuments that you built, not the money that you amassed, but what you did for one of Christ’s little ones, in that hour, will be your joy and your glory above everything else.—Sel.