especially on tha t day, to watch the givers. Some might come with appearance of self -

righteousness, some even with ostentation, some as cheerfully performing a happy

duty. 'Many that were rich cast in much' - yes, very much, for such was the tendency

that (as already state d) a law had to be enacted, forbidding the gift of the Temple of

more than a certain proportion of one's possessions. And the amount of such

contributions may be inferred by recalling the circumstances, that, at the time of

Pompey and Crassus, the Temple -Treasury, after having lavishly defrayed every

possible expenditure, contained in money nearly half a million, and precious vessels to

the value of nearly two millions sterling.36

And as Jesus so sat on these steps, looking out on the ever-shifting panorama, His

gaze was riveted by a solitary figure. The simple words of St. Mark sketch a story of

singular pathos. 'It was one pauper widow.' We can see her coming alone, as if

ashamed to mingle with the crowd of rich givers; ashamed to have her offering seen;

ashamed, perhaps, to bring it; a 'widow,' in the garb of a desolate mourner; her

condition, appearance, and bearing that of a 'pauper.' He observed her closely and read

her truly. She held in her hand only the smallest coins , 'two Perutahs,' and it should be

known that it was not lawful to contribute a less amount.37 Together these two Perutahs

made a guadrans, which was the ninety-sixth part of a denar, itself of the value of about

sevenpence. But it was 'all her living,' perhaps all that she had been able to save out of

her scanty housekeeping; more probably, all that she had to live upon for that day and

till she wrought for more. And of this she now made humble offering unto God. He

spake not to her words of encouragement, for she walked by faith; He offered not

promise of return, for her reward was in heaven. She knew not that any had seen it - for

the knowledge of eyes turned on her, even His, would have flushed with shame the

pure cheek of her love; and any word, conscious notice, or promise would have married

and turned aside the rising incense of her sacrifice.38 But to all time has it remained in

the Church, like the perfume of Mary's alabaster that filled the house, this deed of self-

denying sacrifice. More, far more, than the great gifts of their 'superfluity,' which the rich

cast in, was, and is to all time, the gift of absolute self -surrender and sacrifice,

tremblingly offered by the solitary mourner. And though He spake not to her, yet the

sunshine of his words mus t have fallen into the dark desolateness of her heart; and,

though perhaps she knew not why, it must have been a happy day, a day of rich feast in

the heart, that when she gave up 'her whole living' unto God. And so, perhaps, is every

sacrifice for God all the more blessed, when we know not of its blessedness.