God's laws are the creatures of His love, it follows that to obey them is to dwell in love, and therefore to dwell in God.

So man, footsore and toilworn, came at last to rest in this, and to believe in One God and Father of all, "maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible," and to believe that "to love Him with all the heart is more than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifices."

In some such way as I have tried to show you did man arrive at this sublimest of all beliefs. But only a few out of the large human family are thus blessed; the greater number still worship gods many, gods good, bad, and indifferent.

Even where a belief in one God has been reached, He has at first been shaped in the mind after the fashion of a man. To the people dwelling in the cold, bleak North, he was the Thunderer; to the people dwelling further South on the coast that bordered quiet waters and under sunny skies, he was the Beautiful; to the dweller in the plain, strong in soul and

rough in dealing, he was a power walking on the wings of the wind, a being with the feelings and passions of a man.

It needed great teachers who walked amidst the groves of beautiful Athens, and a greater still who sat wearied by a well in Samaria, to convey ideas of God which cannot be surpassed.

And yet history tells us that in this as in other things nations have fallen back. They have forgotten God as the children of Israel did when, after receiving His commandment to worship no graven image, they shaped an idol like the sacred bull of the Egypt they had left.

Just as there are savage races still in that Stone Age which, I have shown you, was the beginning of progress, and which Europe has left thousands of years behind, so there are to be found races that have not risen above the lowest ideas about spirits in lifeless things. They show us what we were; we represent what, it is hoped, they may become. In believing this we gain trust that, since God has made nothing in vain, He will give to the poor and

wild and ignorant to know in the hereafter, what, through no fault of theirs, has been hidden from them here.

XXXIV. Three Stories about Abraham.

Since the highest belief of any time is the belief of its highest minds, it is clear that in every age there have been men more far-seeing and thoughtful than their fellow-men, who, feeling that this great, solemn life is given for something nobler than eating and money-getting, asked themselves why they were at all; whither they were going; and from whence came what they saw around them. Of the holy lives with which such men enriched the earth, and of the wise and beautiful thoughts in which they have recorded their search after truth, which is but another name for search after God, you will learn by and by; but I want to redeem my promise and tell you a little about one of these men, earliest in historic time, who is thought to have laid hold of and given to us through others a belief in the One God.

Abraham, for he it is whom I mean, was a native of the country called Chaldea. The clear sky of that Eastern land invited the people dwelling in it to the charmful study of the sun, moon, and stars, and they not only worshipped these bodies, but sought to foretell the fate of men from them. An ancient historian tells us that every Chaldean had a signet and staff bearing the sign of the planet or stars that were seen at his birth. Some have said that Ur, the city where Abraham was born, was a chief seat of sun-worship, and that its name means light or fire. We may safely say that Abraham's early years were spent among sun-worshippers, and it may interest you to know that his name and memory are held in high honour, not only by the Jews, but also by the Persians and Mohammedans.

Among the stories about him which are. preserved in certain ancient books are the following.

Terah, the father of Abraham, was a maker and dealer in idols. Being obliged to go from home one day, he left Abraham in charge. An

old man came in and asked the price of one of the idols. "Old man," said Abraham, "how old art thou?" "Threescore years," answered the old man. "Threescore years!" said Abraham, “and thou wouldest worship a thing that my father's slaves made in a few hours? Strange that a man of sixty should bow his gray head to a creature such as that." The man, crimsoned with shame, turned away; and then came a grave-looking woman to bring an offering to the gods. "Give it them thyself," said Abraham; "thou wilt see how greedily they will eat it.” She did so. Abraham then took a hammer and broke all the idols except the largest, in whose hands he placed the hammer. When Terah returned, he asked angrily what profane wretch had dared thus to abuse the gods. "Why," said Abraham, "during thine absence a woman brought yonder food to the gods and the younger ones began to eat. The old god, enraged at their boldness, took the hammer and smashed them." "Dost thou mock thy aged father?" said Terah; "do I not know that they can neither eat nor