Let us bear in mind, also, that every holy service of unostentatious love exercises a hallowed influence on those around us. We may not be conscious of such. But, if Christians indeed, the sphere in which we move will, like the Bethany home, be redolent with the ointment perfume. A holy life is a silent witness for Jesus--an incense-cloud from the heart-altar, breathing odours and sweet spices, of which the world cannot fail to take knowledge. Yes! were we to seek for a beautiful allegorical representation of pure and undefiled Religion, we would find it in this loveliest of inspired pictures. Mary--all silent and submissive at the feet of her Lord--only permitting her love to be disclosed by the holy perfume which, unknown to herself, revealed to others the reality and intensity of her love. True religion is quiet, unobtrusive, seeking the shade--its ever-befitting attitude at the feet of Jesus, looking to Him as all in all. Yet, though retiring, it _must_ and _will_ manifest its living and influential power. The heart broken at the cross, like Mary's broken box, begins from that hour to give forth the hallowed perfume of faith, and love, and obedience, and every kindred grace. Not a fitful and vacillating love and service, but _ever_ emitting the fragrance of holiness, till the little world of home influence around us is filled with the odour of the ointment. "I ask Thee for the daily strength, To none that ask denied; And a mind to blend with outward life, While keeping by Thy side; Content to fill a little space If Thou be glorified. "And if some things I do not ask In my cup of blessings be, I would have my spirit fill'd the more With grateful love to Thee-- More careful not to serve Thee _much_, But to please Thee perfectly."