ever hear the keen mediæval story how once a great preacher was expected at a monastic church, but a stranger came in his place and preached a most eloquent sermon about all sorts of theological dogmas, and while all the rest listened and loudly applauded, the pure eye of one holy brother saw that the preacher was no other than the Lord of Hell, the Frater Diabolus; and when with horror he challenged him for his infamous audacity, the Spirit of Evil said to him, " Why are you so angry? I have in nowise injured my own cause. What I have said will make no one of them the better, rather the worse. It has pleased their orthodox intellects. It has not touched their sinful hearts. Ask yourselves honestly," said Satan, "whether I have ever deceived any one of you? You have deceived yourselves. I do not deceive. I tempt."

And to keep the commandments, what is it but to resist temptation, to cut off the right hand, to pluck out the right eye, to cast away the besetting sin? If you would so much as enter into life, test yourself by what you have now heard. There can be no mistake about it. A child might understand it. Have you an enemy? Then this very day seek him out, shake hands with him; forgive him. Have you wronged another by word or by deed? Undo the wrong, repair the wrong, beg his pardon, make him the fullest, the amplest retribution. Are you a slanderer, delighting in lies? a critic revelling in malice and in misrepresentation? Hush your vain words; be ashamed of your miserable personalities; learn how much nobler a thing it is to be true and loving; fling your wretched pen into the fire and grasp the fact that you would be a far worthier, a far less pernicious member of society, if

you were to earn your bread in preference by breaking stones upon the roadside. Are you in debt? Vow to rid yourself of that dishonesty now and forever, if necessary by living even on bread and water. Are you idle? Go home and determine that you will waste no more this acceptable time of golden opportunities. Are you a swearer? Determine on your knees to-night that you will break off that coarse and pre-eminently senseless habit. Are you a better and a gambler? Go home and tear up your cards and your betting-book, and abandon that brainless and degrading excitement. Are you a drunkard or getting fond of drink, and so being dragged, perhaps even unsuspected by yourself, over the edge of the abyss by that devil's hand of flame? Then do right and shame the devil. Give up the drink. Are you living two lives? Do not rest this night until you have learned to know something about your real self. Are you impure in thought, word, or deed,

"plucking the rose

From the fair forehead of an innocent shane,
To set a blister there?"

Ah! cleanse the temple-walls of your souls from that polluted imagery, and come with that leprosy of evil to Him, whose answer to the leper's cry, "Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst cleanse," came like an echo, "I will! Be clean!" Or are you none of these things, but only an elder brother of the Prodigal, jealous and narrowhearted-only a Pharisee, wise in your conceit, slandering and sneering at all who disagree with you, trusting in yourself that you are righteous, and despising others? Ah, if you are, it may be that the very publicans and

harlots are nearer heaven than you; and you must yet be taught to know that without love, and without humility, ye shall not see the Kingdom of Heaven. Oh, hide not your disbelief, and hide not any evil way in the garb of idle form and sanctified phraseology, nor think that by calling yourself by this and that religious name you can be His disciple. Ah! have you ever abandoned one base thought, one bad habit, one unfair practice, one unkind word, one unjust gain, because Christ bade you? Have you ever uttered one brave remonstrance for Christ's sake? Have you ever done one single courageous thing in His battles? Have you ever given so much as one cup of cold water to one of His little ones? Have you ever spoken one kind word of encouragement to one of His weary children for His sake and in His name? If not, do so now. Christ wants you not in church only, not on Sundays only, but always and altogether; in your shop, in your office, in your drawing-rooms, on the week days, in the streets, in your chambers-alike when you are mingling with the mighty multitude, and in that secret and awful solitude of your individual being in which your souls are alone with God. He wants you, and if you seek Him, you must accept His words. You must go up before the tribunal of your own consciences, and set yourselves before yourselves. Try your own selves :— for in truth every man

"Ever bears about
A silent court of justice in himself,
Himself the judge and jury, and himself
The prisoner at the bar, ever condemned,
And that drags down his life."

You must begin sometime; you must begin with something. "A good habit can only be built up; but an evil habit must be blown up ;" and to do you that service, what moral dynamite can be too strong? So only can you ever enter into life. Begin now; begin here; begin this very hour; make your vow this very moment, in this very church. So begin to enter into life. "For by this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God, and keep His commandments." "And His commandments are not grievous." "But if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments."

SERMON XI.

PREACHED IN TRINITY CHURCH, New York, Oct. 25, 1885.

Idols.

"Little children, keep yourselves from idols.”—1 John v. 21.

WITH these terse and memorable words of warning, St. John ends his first Epistle. You will feel, I think, at once the solemnity of their emphasis. But they acquire a still deeper interest, and a still more intense significance if St. John's first Epistle be, as it probably was, the latest book of the New Testament; if in these words we hear the very last accents of revelation which issued from the lips of any one of those who had known the Lord, and whose brows had been mitred with Pentecostal flame. St. John was the last survivor of the Apostles. Ought not the last words of an Apostle, of the Apostle whom Jesus loved, to be listened to with an eagerness deep as that with which we listen to the last articulate messages spoken by the dying lips of those whom we revere ?

St. John calls his converts little children, not only as a term of affectionate appeal, natural to an inspired teacher who could look upon them from the snowy