world if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered unto the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence."

And the Church has ever since been tempted in the same way; has been tempted to make itself a temporal power, a worldly establishment, a paramour of civil governments. Would that, like its Founder, it had remained true to its principles, and preserved its spiritual character, in spite of this temptation! The darkest passages in its history would have been thus avoided; the splendour of its triumphs would have been untarnished; instead of having been the abettor of tyranny, intolerance, and persecution, it would have been what it ought to have been-the promoter of brotherhood, and the champion of liberty.

There are no circumstances which can justify the Church in using physical force, either to propagate truth or to exterminate error. "For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God, to the pulling down of strongholds." Whenever it employs carnal means, it fails to perform its mission. It should not, therefore, on any account, form an alliance with the state-not for the sake of any prestige, wealth or power-for it is so much homage paid to the devil. It may appear expedient in some cases; but then it is utterly wrong, it is absolutely unwarrantable. Experience amply proves

that it is attended with pernicious consequences. The greatest and most repulsive corruptions of Christianity are traceable to this source.

What, then, is the message which the story of Christ's temptation sends to us in the nineteenth century? It is just this: Do what is right, be pure in your principles, beware of the siren charms of worldly expediency. This was the original lesson taught by the event, and it has acquired weight during the flight of ages; the history of the past, when properly interpreted, only adds to its significance. It is the tempter who says, Seek your own ease, your own gratification, your own aggrandizement; seek these at the expense of forgetting selfdenial, humility, and loyalty to God;-and it is at your peril that you listen to his voice!

IX.

DAVID AND GOLIATH;

OR,

POWER AND WEAKNESS.

"Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied.”

1 SAM. xvii. 45.

DAVID is one of the finest characters in sacred history. He is altogether a great man; he is, beyond dispute, a hero; his bravery, his generosity, his unselfishness, have attracted the admiration of men, and gained the approval of God. From the first moment he appears on the scene to the last, he never forfeits our respect. He commits many mistakes, he is even guilty of crimes; but his faults, however grievous, seem, from the contrast, to enhance the brightness of his life in general. He was now a ruddy stripling. He had just reached the period when the future unfolds its promises, when dreams of ambition disturb the soul, when the hope of worldly advancement intoxicates the heart. Two

events had lately occurred which were calculated to inflame his youthful mind. Samuel, the prophet, at the Lord's bidding, had visited his father's house, and had anointed him, in the midst of his brethren, to be the future king of Israel. Moreover, his skill as a musician had caused him to be invited into the court of Saul, and his prepossessing appearance had secured the king's favour, so that speedy preferment was within his grasp. But how did he act? he eagerly avail himself of the opportunity thus thrown in his way? Far from it. Disdaining power, honour, and fame, he retired to his native hills, to tend his father's flock, and pass his time in seclusion. A more beautiful instance of self-denial the world has seldom witnessed.

Did

But Providence would not permit him to remain long in obscurity. Among Israel's bitterest foes, at this period, were the Philistines. They were a fierce, restless, turbulent race, who looked upon warfare as a pleasant pastime. Whenever an occasion occurred, they were swift to attack, destroy, and plunder. They had, not long ago, however, been ignominiously defeated through the instrumentality of Jonathan and his armour-bearer. The memory of that event rankled in their bosoms, and made them burn with desire to wipe away the insult. Once more, then, they assemble their hosts together, and suddenly appear on the frontiers of Judah.

Two reasons might have led them to resolve on this enterprise with a degree of confidence. They might have received tillings of Saul's madness; and as a nation's prosperity in peace, and its success in war, depended, in those days, on the wisdom, the courage, and the determination of the king, they imagined that the Israelites would now be ill prepared to meet them. Besides, they might have heard of the recent rupture between Saul and Samuel; and they knew that Samuel was God's prophet; the probability, therefore, was, that God had withdrawn from his people the protection with which He had hitherto surrounded them. The Philistines, my friends, were right, their conjectures were natural, their inferences were just; for had Israel's king been mad, and especially, had Israel's God forsaken them, then would they have been, of all people, the most miserable. And I may add, that the condition of the Israelites at this juncture, gives us a clue to the real cause of the Church's weakness during many periods in its history, and suggests the reason why it has oftentimes been so desperately attacked by its enemies. When its leaders are men of piety, wisdom, and power, when God's glory is conspicuous in the midst of it, the Church is unassailable. But when its leaders are afflicted with madness, when the Divine presence takes its departure, then its antagonists

inspired with boldness, and, summoning their