myself. Love is the imperial | impulse in the Divine nature, and he who is ruled by love is like God. All can become like God in this respect. A child can love as well as a seraph, &c.

II.

GODLINESS HAS ITS FORM. A form of godliness.' It has a way of expressing itself. First: It has a form of expression towards God. There is confession, prayer, praise, worship. Secondly: It has a form of expression towards man-respect for the rights, compassion for the miseries and a loving desire for the happiness of all. Godliness must have its expressions both towards God and man, and those expressions have their forms.

III. THE FORMS OF GODLINESS SOMETIMES EXIST WITH

OUT ITS POWER. First: There is often a great deal of external worship where there is no godly devotion. There are mere mechanical acts, empty words, spiritless strains. It was thus with the Jews of old: "they come unto thee and they sit before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but will not do them: and lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument: for they hear thy words but they

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do them not." Secondly: There is often a great deal of external philanthropy where there is no godly devotion. There is much said, given, and done, for man in this age in the name of philanthropy, which is not prompted by nor inspired with godlike love.

IV. HAVING THE FORM WITHOUT THE POWER IS PRACTICAL INFIDELITY. To have nothing but the mere form is to deny the power. First: The mere for misrepresents the power. Mere form is a painted corpse, that misrepresents life. It is a galvanized body, its movements misrepresent the activities of life. Secondly: The mere form counteracts the power. It counteracts its influence upon ourselves. Attachment to forms crushes the spirit. "The letter killeth, &c." Counteracts its influence upon others. hollow ritualism, and the stiff formality of professors, have ever counteracted the influence of spiritual religion. This is practical infidelity, and it is the worst kind of infidelity extant; it is an infidelity that repeats its religious creeds, says its prayers, sings its psalms, and performs with literal accuracy all its devotions, and therefore lies beyond the power of human logic. The infidelity of the Church, I

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The

trow, is worse than the infidelity of the sceptic's press, club, or platform.

THE PREACHER.

"Suffer me a little, and I will shew thee that I have yet to speak on God's behalf. I will fetch my knowledge from afar, and will as cribe righteousness to my Maker." -Job xxxvi. 2, 3.

THESE are words which Elihu addresses to Job. The speaker is a young man of great genius and high culture. His thoughts are deep and devout, and his expressions clear and eloquent. The words may be used to represent some of the work of the true preacher.

I. THEY REPRESENT THE SIDE HE HAS TO TAKE.

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enforce the claims of God; His claims to their supreme love and constant obedience. Fourthly: He has to offer the redemption of God; to show forth the wonderful mercy of God in Christ Jesus.

II. THEY REPRESENT THE KNOWLEDGE HE HAS TO COM

MUNICATE. "I will fetch my knowledge from afar." All, perhaps, that Elihu meant by this expression, was that he did not intend dealing in common-places, to go over the same ground which others had trodden, but to go into fresh regions for his thoughts. Literally the true preacher has to fetch his knowledge from afar. First: From afar in relation to the intuitions of men. The doctrines of the Gospel lie far away from the inbred sentiments of the human soul. Secondly: From afar in relation to the philosophical deductions of men. Human reason could never discover the essential truths of the Gospel. Eye hath not seen." &c. Thirdly: From afar in relation to the natural spirit of men. The spirit of the Gospel is foreign to the disposition of the ungodly world. We have to fetch our knowledge" from afar." We have to go back over the centuries, back to Christ and His apostles, &c.

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III. THEY REPRESENT THE PURPOSE HE HAS TO MAINTAIN.

"I will ascribe righteousness unto my Maker." Elihu's purpose seemed to be, in all that he intended saying, to demonstrate to Job that God was righteous in all His ways, and worthy of his confidence.

The conviction of God's righteousness must be amongst the deepest and most invincible forces in the soul of the true preacher. A sceptical philosophy, in criticizing the Divine procedure,

may sometimes throw such a thick mist over the righteousness of God, as to hide it for a time from his reason, but his heart must hold on to it

with tenacity. God's ways are equal. This must be his watchword, his landmark in his mental explorations, his pole star in his excursions. With this conviction he will show, First: That no suffering falls on any creature more than he deserves. Secondly: That no work is demanded of any creature more than he can render.

DEATH OF SOCRATES.

When he had thus spoken, "Be it so, Socrates," said Criton; "but what orders do you leave to those who are present, or to myself, either respecting your children, or anything else, in the execution of which we should most gratify you?" "What I always do say, Criton," he replied, "nothing new: that if you pay due attention to yourselves, do what you will, you will always do what is acceptable to myself, to my family, and to your own selves, though you should not now promise me anything. But if you neglect yourselves, and are unwilling to live, following the track, as it were, of what I have said both now and heretofore, you will do nothing the more, though you should now promise many things, and that with earnestness." "We shall take care, therefore,"

But how

"Just as

said Criton, 66 so to act. would you be buried?" you please," said he, "if you can but catch me, and I do not elude your pursuit ;" and, at the same time, gently laughing, and addressing himself to us, "I cannot persuade Criton," he said, my friends, that I am that Socrates who now disputes with you, and methodizes every part of the discourse but he thinks that I am he whom he will shortly behold dead, and asks how I ought to be buried. But all that long discourse which some time since I addressed to you, in which I asserted that after I had drunk the poison I should no longer remain with you, but should depart to certain felicities of the blessed, this I seem to have declared to him in vain, though it was undertaken to console both you and myself. Be

surety, therefore, for me to Criton, to the reverse of that, for which he became surety to the judges: for he was my bail that I remain, but be you my bail that I shall not remain when I die, but shall depart hence, that Criton may bear it the more easily, and may not be affected when he sees my budy burnt or buried, as if I were suffering some dreadful misfortune; and that he may not say at my interment, that Socrates is laid out, or is carried out, or is buried. For be well assured of this, my friend Criton, that when we speak amiss we are not only blameable as to our expressions, but likewise do some evil to our souls. But it is fit to be of good heart, and to say that my body will be buried, and to bury it in such manner as may be most pleasing to yourselves, and as you may esteem it most agreeable to our laws."

When he had thus spoken, he arose, and went into another room, that he might wash himself, and Criton followed him, but he ordered us to wait for him. We waited, therefore, accordingly, discoursing over, and reviewing among ourselves what had been said; and sometimes speaking about his death, how great a calamity it would be to us; and sincerely lamenting that we, like those who are deprived of their fathers, should pass the rest of our life in the condition of orphans. But when he had washed himself, his sons were brought to him (for he had two little ones, and one older), and the woman belonging to his family likewise came into him: but when he had spoken to them before Criton, and had left them such injunctions as he thought proper, he ordered the boys and women to depart, and he himself returned to us. And it was now near the setting of the sun : for he had been away in the inner room for a long time. But when he

came in from bathing he sat down and did not speak much after wards for then the servant of the Eleven came in, and standing near him, "I do not perceive that in you, Socrates," said he, "which I have taken notice of in others; I mean that they are angry with me, and curse me, when being compelled by the magistrates, I announce to them that they must drink the poison. But, on the contrary, I have found you up to the present time to be the most generous, mild, and best of all the men that ever came into this place; and therefore I am well convinced that you are not angry with me, but with the authors of your present condition, for you know who they are. Now, therefore, (for you know what I came to tell you) farewell; and endeavor to bear this necessity as easily as possible." And at the same time, bursting into tears, and turning himself away, he departed. But Socrates, looking after him, said, “And thou, too, farewell; and we shall take care to act as you advise." And at the same time, turning to us, "How courteous," he said, "is the behaviour of that man! During the whole time of my abode here, he has visited me, and often conversed with me, and proved himself to be the best of men. And now how generously he weeps on my account! But let us obey him, Criton, and let some one bring the poison, if it is bruised, and if not, let the man whose business it is, bruise it." But, Socrates," said Criton, "I think that the sun still hangs over the mountains, and is not set yet. And at the same time, I have known others, who have drunk the poison very late, after it was annnounced to them, who have supped and drunk abundantly. Therefore do not be in such haste, for there is yet time enough." Socrates replied, "Such

men, Criton, act fitly in the manner in which you have described, for they think to derive some advantage from so doing; and I also with propriety shall not act in this manner. For I do not think I shall gain anything by drinking it later, except becoming ridiculous to myself through desiring to live, and being sparing of life, when nothing of it any longer remains. Go, therefore," said he, "be persuaded, and comply with my request." Then Criton, hearing this, gave a sign to the boy who stood near him; and the boy departing, and having stayed for some time, came back with the person that was to administer the poison, who brought it pounded in a cup. And Socrates, looking at the man, said, "Well, my friend (for you are knowing in these matters) what is to be done?" "Nothing," he said, "but after you have drunk it to walk about until a heaviness takes place in your legs, and then to lie down. This is the manner in which you have to act." And at the same time he extended the cup to Socrates. And Socrates taking it, --and, indeed, Echecrates-with great cheerfulness, neither trembling nor suffering any change for the worse in color or countenance, but, as he was used to do, looking up sternly at the man, "What say you," he said, as to making a libation from this potion? May I do it or not?" We can only bruise as much, Socrates," he said,

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as we think sufficient for the purpose." I understand you," he said; "but it is both lawful and proper to pray to the gods that my departure from hence thither may be prosperous, which I entreat them to grant may be the case.' And, so saying, he stopped, and drank the poison very readily and pleasantly. And thus far, indeed, the greater part of us were tolerably well able to refrain from

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weeping; but when we saw him drinking, and that he had drunk it, we could no longer restrain our tears. And from me, indeed, in spite of my efforts, they flowed, and not drop by drop; so that, wrapping myself in my mantle, I bewailed myself, not, indeed, for his misfortune, but for my own, considering what a companion I should be deprived of. But Criton, who was not able to restrain his tears, was compelled to rise before me. And Apollodorus, who, during the whole time prior to this, had not ceased from weeping, then wept aloud with great bitterness, so that he infected all who were present except Socrates. But Socrates upon seeing this, exclaimed, "What are you doing, you strange men? In truth, I principally sent away the women lest they should produce a disturbance of this kind; for I have heard that it is proper to die among well-omened sound. Be quiet, therefore, and maintain your fortitude." And, when we heard this, we were ashamed, and restrained our tears.

But he, when he found during his walking about, that his legs became heavy, and had told us so, laid himself down on his back. For the man had told him, to do so. And at the same time, he who gave him the poison, touching him at intervals, examined his feet and legs. And then, pressing very hard on his foot, he asked him if he felt it. But Socrates answered that he did not. And after this he pressed his thighs, and thus, going upwards, he showed us that he was cold and stiff.

And Socrates also touched himself, and said that when the poison touched his heart he should then depart. But now the lower part of his body was almost cold; when uncovering himself (for he was covered) he said (and these were his last words) "Criton, we owe a

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