given you again, aye, twelve teeming baskets for your humble loaves and tiny fishes." With shame be it confessed, that the law of satiety holds good in every creature of God save man. The clouds rain down their surplus moisture, and lea and furrow drink their fill and pass along the residue to the parched plain. The blade and tree absorb but their share of nourishment from the soil, and the well-fed kine wander off leaving the manger unguarded. Man alone, though satisfied, can never be satiated. His lust for possession is all-absorbing. Possession, do I say? Dominion rather; for the most universal and stubborn error the world has ever known is that men are absolute masters of all they possess. Such detestable doctrine needs no refutation. God is, and His is the earth and the fulness thereof, and to Him each must render account of his stewardship. In the divine plan all are amply provided for. The rich from their riches may appropriate sufficient for their needs, " but that which remaineth," says Christ, " give alms." By every right of charity and justice the world's superfluous wealth belongs to the poor, and to deny assistance in cases of dire necessity is a crime against high heaven. The cry of the poor for help is simply the voice of God asking for His own. For Christ identified Himself with them in the words: "Whatsoever you do unto them, you do likewise unto Me."
Brethren, some will call this doctrine communistic, and point you to the improvidence and vices of the poor, but if to echo Christ is communistic, then Com-
