ame as that belonging to morning's
discourse. It was hurried, impetuous soliloquy; in this particular case
hurried first, and then impetuous. That is, I judged from various little
indications that Mr. Brooks used his will to urge himself on against
some obstructiveness felt in the current mood and movement of his mind.
But it was a noteworthy discourse, full and fresh with thought. The
interpretation put upon Luther's doctrine of justification by faith was
free rather than historic. If one should apply the formula, truth plus
personality, the personality--Mr. Brooks's personality--would perhaps be
found to prevail in the interpretation over the strict historic
truth.--W.C. WILKINSON _in The Christian Union_.

* * * * *

XLI.

SAINT JOHN AND THE ROBBER.

A LEGEND OF THE FIRST CENTURY.

There is a beautiful legend
Come down from ancient time,
Of John, the beloved disciple,
With the marks of his life sublime.

Eusebius has the story
On his quaint, suggestive page;
And God in the hearts of his people
Has preserved it from age to age.

It was after the vision in Patmos,
After the sanctified love
Which flowed to the Seven Churches,
Glowing with light from above:

When his years had outrun the measure
Allotted to men at the best,
And Peter and James and the others
Had followed the Master to rest,

In the hope of the resurrection,
And the blessed life to come
In the house of many mansions,
The Father's eternal home;

It was in this golden season,
At the going down of his sun,
When his work in the mighty harvest
Of the Lord was almost done;

At Ephesus came a message,
Where he was still at his post,
Which unto the aged Apostle
Was the voice of the Holy Ghost.

Into the country he hastened
With all the ardor of youth,
Shod with the preparation
Of the Gospel of peace and truth.

His mission was one of mercy
To the sheep that were scattered abroad,
And abundant consolation,
Which flowed through him from the Lord.

O, would my heart could paint him,
The venerable man of God,
So lovingly showing and treading
The way the Master had trod!

O, would my art could paint him,
Whose life was a fact to prove
The joy of the Master's story,
And fill their hearts with his lo