“As Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face,
    A light shone round about the place;
    The leper no longer crouched at his side,
    But stood before him glorified,
    Shining and tall and fair and straight
    As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate,—­
    Himself the Gate whereby men can
    Enter the temple of God in Man.

    “And the voice that was calmer than silence said,
    ’Lo, it is I, be not afraid! 
    In many climes, without avail,
    Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail;
    Behold, it is here,—­this cup which thou
    Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now;
    This crust is my body broken for thee,
    This water His blood that died on the tree;
    The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,
    In whatso we share with another’s need;
    Not what we give, but what we share,—­
    For the gift without the giver is bare;
    Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,—­
    Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.’”

The fear is sometimes entertained, and the question is sometimes asked, May not adherence to this principle of helpfulness and service become mere sentimentalism? or still more, may it not be the means of lessening another’s sense of self-dependence, and thus may it not at times do more harm than good?  In reply let it be said:  If the love which impels it be a selfish love, or a weak sentimental ism, or an effort at show, or devoid of good common sense, yes, many times.  But if it be a strong, genuine, unselfish love, then no, never.  For, if my love for my fellow-man be the true love, I can never do anything that will be to his or any one’s else detriment,—­nothing that will not redound to his highest ultimate welfare.  Should he, for example come and ask of me a particular favor, and were it clear to me that granting it would not be for his highest good ultimately, then love at once resolves itself into duty, and compels me to forbear.  A true, genuine, unselfish love for one’s fellow-man will never prompt, and much less permit, anything that will not result in his highest ultimate good.  Adherence, therefore, to this great principle in its truest sense, instead of being a weak sentimentalism, is, we shall find, of all practical things the most intensely practical.

And a word here in regard to the test of true love and service, in distinction from its semblance for show or for vain glory.  The test of the true is this:  that it goes about and does its good work, it never says anything about it, but lets others do the saying.  It not only says nothing about it, but more, it has no desire to have it known; and, the truer it is, the greater the desire to have it unknown save to God and its own true self.  In other words, it is not sicklied o’er with a semi-insane desire for notoriety or vainglory, and hence never weakens itself nor harasses any one else by lengthy recitals of its good deeds.  It is