“I say God is not mocked,”—­he continued slowly; “Neither is man!  The miserable human being that has ‘lost’ his or her Soul, may be assured that the ‘gain’ of the whole world in exchange, will prove but Dead Sea fruit, bitter and tasteless, and in the end wholly poisonous.  Loss of the Soul is marked by moral degradation and deterioration,—­and this inward crumbling and rotting of all noble and fine feeling into baseness, shows itself on the fairest face,—­ the proudest form.  The man who lies against his neighbour for the sake of worldly convenience or personal revenge, writes the lie in his own countenance as he utters it.  It engraves its mark,—­it can be seen by all who read physiognomy—­it says plainly—­’Let not this man be trusted!’ The woman who is false and treacherous carries the stigma on her features, be they never so perfect.  The creature of clay who has lost Soul, likewise lacks Heart,—­and the starved, hopeless poverty of such an one is disclosed in him, even if he be a world’s millionaire.  Moreover, ’Soul’—­that delicate, divine, eternal essence, is easily lost.  Any earthly passion carried to excess, will overwhelm it, and sink it in an unfathomable sea.  It can slip away in the pursuit of ambition,—­in schemes for self-aggrandisement,—­in the building up of huge fortunes,—­in the pomp, and show, and vanity of mundane things.  It flies from selfishness and sensuality.  It can be lost in hate,—­it can equally be lost in love!”

Again he paused—­then went on—­“Yes—­for even in love, that purest and most elevating of human emotions, the Soul must have its way rather than the Body.  Loss of the ‘Soul’ in love, means that love then becomes the mere corpse of itself, and must needs decay with all other such dust-like things.  In every sentiment, in every thought, in every hope, in every action, let us find the ‘Soul,’ and never let it go!  For without it, no great deed can be done, no worthy task accomplished, no life lived honourably and straightly in the sight of God.  It shall profit us nothing to be famous, witty, wealthy, or admired, if we are mere stuffed figures of clay without the ‘breath of God’ as our animating life principle.  The simple peasant, who has enough ‘soul’ in him to reverently watch the sunset across the hills, and think of God as the author of all that splendour, is higher in the spiritual scale than the learned scholar who is too occupied with himself and his own small matters to notice whether it is a sunset or a house on fire.  The ‘soul’ in a man should be his sense, his sight, his touch, his very inmost and dearest centre,—­the germ of all good,—­the generator of all peace and hope and happiness.  It is the one and only thing to foster,—­the one and only thing to save,—­the only part of man which, belonging as it does to God, God will require again.  Some of you here present to-day will perhaps think for a little while on what I have said when you leave this church,—­and others will at once forget it,—­but think, forget,