E. Thy honour. For though our lives are in thy hands yet a breach of faith is beyond the power of so great a

monarch.

Alexander smiled, and dismissed them richly gifted."

The elders made the last reply in consequence of the king having told them at the commencement of the conversation, freely to state their opinions, and not to fear displeasing him. It is not improbable that such a conversation took place, when we consider that Alexander was instructed by Aristotle in metaphysics and morals, and professed strong attachment to the principles of wisdom. Plutarch has preserved a letter from the pupil to the preceptor, in which he says, "In what shall we differ from others, if the sublimer knowledge which we gained from you, be made common to all the world? For my part, I had rather excel the bulk of mankind in the superior parts of learning, than in the extent of power and dominion."

We do not think that knowledge should be confined to the rich and the great. Happy it is for our youth that much sounder knowledge than either Alexander or his preceptor enjoyed, may be obtained by them from the Bible, which many of them have been taught to read and understand. Pity it is, however, that Alexander, if ever he desired to excel in learning, did not confine himself to researches after wisdom, rather than pursue that reckless course of war that caused him to exceed the rest of men in his thirst for power, and his boundless ambition.

.Plutarch also records a similar account of Alexander's trying the wisdom of the ancient gymnosophists, or wise men, of India. To ten of these who "were reckoned the most acute and concise in their answers, he put the most difficult questions that could be thought of, and at the same time declared he would put the first person that answered wrong to death, and after him all the rest." He, however, afterwards "loaded them with presents and dismissed them." The answers of these Brahmanical philosophers were not equal to those of the Jewish sages. The two best of them, which bore on the character of the enquirer, were as follows:

1st. "What are the best means for a man to make himself

loved?" The reply was, "If possessed of great power, do

not make yourself feared." 2nd. "How a man might become a god ?" To which the answer given was, "By doing what it is impossible for a man to do."

This last was a striking rebuke to a man who coveted to be esteemed as a god, and who solicited divine honours. In the answers of these Jewish sages, our youthful friends will find much that is worthy of attentive consideration. He only is wise who foresees the result of present undertakings. He acts as a fool who blindly rushes along a path without ascertaining the inevitable certainty of death by a plunge over the unperceived precipice in the way. Youths are entering upon new undertakings-What will be their respective issues? A life of sensual dissipation will lead to bodily misery and eternal remorse. A life devoted to war may possibly secure empty glory, bought at the expense of the lives of our fellow-men; but the garland which it weaves must wither and perish. A life consecrated to the untiring pursuit of gain, may probably amass a princely fortune; but "what is a man profited if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul." A life spent in the paths of literature and science, charming and ennobling as are such intellectual pursuits, may nevertheless leave the soul "found wanting" in that moral goodness, that renovated and purified state, that alone can fit the creature for eternal communion with the Creator. The "wages of sin is death." The word of God enables us to foresee this evil; and he that is wise will forsake the road that leads to woe. And he "who by patient continuance in well-doing, seeks for glory, and honour, and immortality," engages in an undertaking which will secure "eternal life."

The other instructions of the "elders of Israel" are in accordance with those excellent principles of moral greatness laid down by the "Great Teacher" Jesus Christ, in his Sermon on the Mount. "He who subdues his passions is most truly a hero," say these sages. "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth," says Jesus. This meekness of spirit resents not injuries-represses angry feelings-and forbids the indulgence of hatred in the heart. But to obtain a victory over passion and pride is often more arduous than to storm a garrison. Hence Solomon says, "he that is slow

to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city." Prov. xvi. 32. Alexander, great as he was in obtaining surprising victories over others, did not obtain this victory over himself. A writer, after tracing his triumphant career from the destruction of the city of Thebes, (wherein 6,000 of the inhabitants were put to the sword, and 30,000 carried into captivity,) to the time he entered Persepolis, the capital of Persia, (after routing the forces of Darius, which some have estimated to consist of a million of men; but more moderate calculations say half that number,) goes on to observe, "From this time the glory of Alexander began to decline. Master of the greatest empire in the world, he became a slave to his own passions; gave himself up to arrogance and dissipation; showed himself ungrateful and cruel, and, in the arms of pleasure, shed the blood of his bravest generals. Hitherto sober and moderate, this hero, who strove to equal the gods, and called himself a god, sank to the level of vulgar men. Persepolis, the wonder of the world, he burned in a fit of intoxication." Thus through unsubdued passions, luxuriousness, and intemperance, he shortened his life, and died at the age of thirty-two years.

A Jewish commentator on "the Mishna," or, "The Ethics of the Fathers," has excellently said: "The valour to which the Sacred Scriptures afford their commendation, is not that innate quality of body and mind, which enables a man to overcome his enemies; and smiling at the perils which surround him, to rush on his foe, and at the imminent risk of life, to achieve the subjugation of whosoever does oppose him. No! it is not the reckless and callous conqueror, who in his mad career of ambition, drags entire nations after his chariot wheels; which rolling over the dying and the dead, crushes whatever impedes his headlong course, regardless alike of the groans and imprecations, of the tears and of the blood, of his ill-fated victims. No! it is not the savage warrior, who submits to every privation, and braves every peril, to seek out a foe whose destruction he considers as ample compensation for all he has himself suffered, or been exposed to. No! neither of these can expect the approbation of a merciful Providence, or the commendations

of that Book in which the Preserver of the universe, the allbounteous Father of his creatures, has deigned to make known his will. Very different indeed is that species of valour on which the Sacred Volume bestows its praise. Not the destroyer is the hero, but the preserver. He is truly valiant who subdues his evil passions. When he has it in his power to harm another man, to crush his foes, to rise upon the ruin of his enemies-and when the temptation assails him from within, so that ambition, or avarice, or vengeance, or anger, is clamorous for that gratification which the opportunity offers-if he then nobly resist the promptings of his own evil inclination. If in the moment when the voice of desire is loudest within him, when the tempter is most busy, and all the sterner energies of human nature, panting for action, urge him on with a force that threatens to become irresistible, if at that moment, he can at once and effectually curb the inward tumult; if, by one effort of determined will, he can restore calmness to his agitated mind, and silence the clamour of his passions, by the reflection, 'It is contrary to the will of God.' If he can do this, then he is a hero; then, and then only, does the Sacred Volume bestow its praise on him, or deign to call him valiant. For it is far more difficult to overcome the foe within us, than to conquer armies; mightier is the effort required to curb our passions than to subjugate nations. And that courage which enables us to sacrifice our own vainglory, and the opinion of the world, to the glory of God, greatly exceeds the reckless daring which urges us on to any perilous undertaking."—Heb. Rev. vol. 2, p. 354.

Judged, by this standard, where is the greatness of Alexander? In this respect the world has agreed to ascribe the title of "Great" to the haughty, the proud, the ambitious, the warrior, and the daringly successful in crime; but those only are "great in the kingdom of heaven," that are lowly in self-esteem, contrite in view of their own nothingness, patient under the inflictions of evil-doers, peaceable and peacemakers in the midst of strife, unflinching in fortitude whilst seeking to promote works of righteousness, and persevering in every attempt to conform themselves to the moral likeness of God, whilst renouncing the tempting

seductions of sin and the profits of ungodliness. These are the characters that will answer to the description of these Jewish sages. These have learned the art of "living well," because they have been taught to practise self-denial, and can "accustom themselves to privations" in an humble endeavour to promote the glory of God. These, too, know how to "render themselves beloved," because, instead of 'assuming superiority over others," they are ready to become all things to all men, in the benevolent desire to do good unto all; and those are the "most happy" who use the power they possess, whether of property, talent, or influence, in promoting "the welfare of the universal family of man."

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Scriptural greatness is moral goodness. Such is the greatness to which we wish our youths to aspire. Men will learn by the Gospel to form a different estimate of those whom the martial world has delighted to honour. The author of "The Philosphy of Missions" has passed a more correct judgment on Alexander the Great; he says that

"He rushed forth like a dragon to destroy mankind and desolate the earth. Nothing could satisfy his thirst for power, but the subjugation of the globe itself. He aspired to plant his blood-stained foot on the neck of all nations; and, when it was suggested that the number of worlds was infinite, he burst into tears because he could not ascend to the stars, and carry his conquests throughout creation. Such was Alexander, son of Philip, king of Macedon; and for these remorseless cruelties and dreadful crimes, men have called him Great! Great he, doubtless, was, but it was in wickedness. He seems like an angel of death, who, by some error in the operations of nature, had become incarnate, and received a commission to desolate the fairest portion of the earth, and to butcher its innocent inhabitants! He finished as became him. He crowned his sanguinary career of audacious ambition by actually claiming for himself divine honours! I marvel not that his claim was conceded by a benighted world. For intellectual power, for impetuous passion, for impious ambition, and for destructive genius, he has had no equal. Thus far, I grant that he was great; but my inquiry is, was he good? Was the