quently for absolute holiness. The weights and measures of Great Britain and her dependencies are regulated by certain lengths of bronze and masses of platinum in charge of the Office of Standards of the Board of Trade. These, of course, might by time or accident become altered. It is therefore desirable to have certain standards which, so far as human ingenuity can insure them, are protected against change. These have been provided by Act of Parliament, and are preserved and immured in the wall of the House. Every twenty years the standard yard and weights used by the Board of Trade are brought to Parliament, and carefully compared with the absolute standards therein preserved. But if it is necessary thus to verify the accuracy of the accepted standards of weight and measure, how much more so is it that we should again and again bring our standards of commercial, political, and social judgment to the test of the absolute standard of God's throne and Christ's cross! Not once in twenty years, but daily, must we verify our conscience at the highest possible tribunal, lest we be found conscientiously perpetrating acts of injustice, untruthfulness, and inhumanity. Swiss watchmakers have devised a phosphorescent preparation for dials, by means of which the faces of watches are illuminated in darkness and become visible at the ordinary distance; every few days, however, the watch must be exposed to

sunlight, or the phosphorescence fails and the time can no longer be ascertained in the darkness. So conscience is an illuminated dial to be eagerly scanned in dark and perplexing days; but it gives clear and true direction only whilst it is often shone upon by the light of heaven.

Only thus do we preserve the conscience imperative. It is the imperative faculty; it is a monarch in its peremptoriness; it does not counsel, it commands. A modern author says: "Conscience must not only reign, it must govern." We frequently speak of conscience as a compass; but it is far more than an ordinary compass, which simply points aright. A detector mariner's compass has recently been patented. Should the ship get out of her proper course a bell rings, and continues to ring with a sound that is audible above the vibrations of the engines, in every part of the vessel until the ship has been brought into her proper course. The conscience is such a compass: it not only indicates the true points, it also raises a clamorous alarm when we get out of the true course. Here again the conscience may suffer, its imperativeness being abated or lost. The moral sense of thousands is no longer explicit, authoritative, and final, but timid, hesitating, readily cowed into silence. "I exercise myself." Beware! There is a conspiracy to rob conscience of its crown. If we once take God and eternity out of con

science, its authority is fatally impaired. Herein," says St. Paul," do I exercise myself." Because I believe in the holy God, the resurrection of the dead, the eternal world, I strive to keep my conscience strong and pure. Let us get into the conscience the thunders of Sinai; let us daily remind ourselves of the awful sanction given to the law by the blood of Calvary.

Only thus do we preserve the conscience pure. "The blood of Christ shall cleanse your conscience" (Heb. 9: 14). Forgiveness is here from all guilty memories. It is said that printed paper may be so cleansed as to make it suitable for receiving a fresh impression; by immersing the printed sheet in a certain solution the ink disappears, and the sheet is left a spotless white. Thus can the grace of Jesus, purchased by His precious blood, wash away every dark stain, and free the spirit from the power of sin. "Exercise" yourself at the cross; it makes pure, it keeps pure. "If the blood of goats and bulls, and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling them that have been defiled, sanctify unto the cleanness of the flesh Christ

how much more shall the blood of

cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?"

XII

THE POWER OF PURPOSE

W

I am purposed.-Ps. 17: 3.

E often fail to exercise the will. We are proud to possess the power of selfdetermination, and vehemently vindicate the fact of free-will; yet in actual life we are content to drift: rarely do we really exercise the sovereign power. A recent writer remarks: "What passes for a will is usually a chaotic lot of indecisions. Indeed, nothing is more helpless than the will power of a large part of human beings." Marked improvement would soon be manifest in all spheres if men habitually cultivated the will and put more force into their high resolves; but unfortunately we are usually content to see dimly, feel faintly, decide weakly, and life becomes a series of ineffectual struggles, in which it is often hard to distinguish success from failure. This is equally true in regard to our moral and spiritual life. James Smetham has a suggestive passage on this particular point: "A thought that has been much in my mind lately is that it is really possible by direct intention and effort to improve-a simple thought enough, but

a very influential one when entertained with the heart. That vague, purposeless feeling one sometimes has originates in the want of faith in the truth I have named. We look on change for the better as something which will perhaps come to us some day in a burst, lighting all up with a new brilliancy, and sending all forward with new impetus and strength. No, it won't. I confess that I have been too superstitious in this matter, and have forgotten that improvement is a thing of growth-gradual, silent, steady, and the offspring of direct, continuous effort and will. Not that will can change the heart; but it can set the mind and heart in motion towards him who can do it." Many drift idly as Smetham did, instead of energetically seeking to work out their salvation.

All know the power of a wise, vigorous, sustained will in the realm of circumstance. We sometimes speciously argue that everything is possible to human resolution; lofty position, splendid wealth, or abiding fame is ours if we only once decide upon it, and pursue our desire with unfaltering purpose. This is a serious error. We knew a man who resolved to live a hundred years, and he would have done so only the undertaker baulked him; and all life is circled by stern conditions that no human determination can evade or resist. In practical life, however, a definite and tenacious will counts for much. I