saw, are all real animals; it is real observation; real analogy.  When he speaks of the lost sheep, it is not a fictitious joy that he describes or an imaginary one; it is real.  The more we examine his sayings with any touch of his spirit, the more we wonder.  Of course it is possible to handle them in the wrong way, to miss the real thought and make folly of everything.  Thus, when he says he is the door, the interpreter may stray into silly detail and make faith the key, and—­I don’t know what the panels and hinges could be.  That is not the style of Jesus.  The soul of the thing, the great central meaning, the real analogy is his concern.  Seriousness in observation, seriousness in reflection, is what he teaches.  Men and women break down for want of thinking things out.  Many things become possible to those who think seriously, as he did—­and, so to speak, without watertight compartments.

Jesus is always urging seriousness in reflection.  Seriousness in action, too, is one of his lessons—­an emphasis on doing, but on doing with a clear sense of what one is about, and why.  A part of action is clear thought; always exactness, accuracy; you must think the thing out, he says, and then act or let it alone.  The artistic temperament, we all know, is very much in evidence to-day.  In “The Comments of Bagshot” we are told that the drawback is that there is so much temperament and so little art.  Why?  Because the artistic temperament means so little by itself.  It is one of the secrets of Jesus, that it is action that illuminates.  What is it that makes the poem?  The poet sees beggar children running races, or little Edward and the weather-cock, or something greater if you like—­the light on a woman’s hair, or a flower; and you say, he has his poem.  He has not.  He must work at the thing.  When we study the great poets, we realize how these things are worked out to the point of nerve-strain and exhaustion.  The poet devotes himself heart and soul to the work; he alters this and that, once and again; he sees a fresh aspect of the thing, and he alters all again; he writes and rewrites, getting deeper and deeper into the essential values of the thing all the time.  Where in all this is the artistic temperament?  It gave him the impulse, but something else achieves the work of art.  I have a feeling that the great works of art are achieved by the shopkeeper virtues in addition to the artistic temperament that sees and feels them at the beginning.  It is action that gives the value of a thought.  Jesus sees that.  He says that frankly to his disciples.  If you want to understand in the long run, it is carrying the cross that will teach you the real values.