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 not the _professional_ good-doing. It is simply living its natural life, open-minded, open-hearted, doing each day what its hands find to do, and in this finding its own true life and joy. And in this way it unintentionally but irresistibly draws to itself a praise the rarest and divinest I know of,--the praise I heard given but a day or two ago to one who is living simply his own natural life without any conscious effort at anything else, the praise contained in the words: And, oh, it is beautiful, the great amount of good he does and of which the world never hears. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote C: "According to the mythology of the Romancers, the Sangreal, or Holy Grail, was the cup out of which Jesus partook of the Last Supper with his disciples. It was brought into England by Joseph of Arimathea, and remained there, an object of pilgrimage and adoration, for many years in the keeping of his lineal descendants. It was incumbent upon those who had charge of it to be chaste in thought, word, and deed; but, one of the keepers having broken this condition, the Holy Grail disappeared. From that time it was a favorite enterprise of the Knights of Sir Arthur's court to go in search of it."--_James Russell Lowell_.] PART V. THE INCOMING O dull, gray grub, unsightly and noisome, unable to roam, Days pass, God's at work, the slow chemistry's going on, Behold! Behold! O brilliant, buoyant life, full winged, all the heaven's thy home! O poor, mean man, stumbling and falling, e'en shamed by a clod. Years pass, God's at work, spiritual awakening has come, Behold! Behold! O regal, royal soul, then image, now the likeness of God.