One may speak like a wise man and in reality be the biggest sort of a fool, yea, a scoundrel. People have learned to discount mere talk when it stands alone. Just being a preacher is not enough. One must practice what he preaches. The Roman Catholic doctrine relieves the priest from the obligation to live the morality which he preaches, but surely that is a travesty on the ethics of Christianity. It is false ethics and false religion. People have a right to hold the preacher to the standard of the gospel, just as he has the right to urge upon them the highest ideals of conduct. There is a wonderful leveling process going on all the time. Lincoln said with rare wisdom that a man may fool all the people part of the time and some of the people all the time, but not all the people all the time. The greatest asset that the preacher has, after all, is his life, a long life of piety and consecration. There is no answering that argument—“by his good life his works.” This is the only proof that counts in the long run. The King James Version has here “good conversation,” which was at one time good English (_conversatio_, _conversari_), originally one’s conduct or bearing (turning oneself about, the precise idea in the Greek word). But long ago the English confined the word to talk, perhaps because some people did little else but talk. But quaint English must give way to the modern preciseness of speech. It is the beautiful manner of life that speaks the language of business today, the flower of a white life that adorns the profession of the service of Christ. But even so, it must be behavior that is sincere, that finds expression in acts, not mere external mannerisms, posing, attitudinizing, stage effect. Nothing is more repulsive than professional pietists who attract attention to themselves rather than to Christ the Lord. It is a case pre-eminently where actions speak louder than words and where words alone do more harm than good. Bengel puts it tersely: _re potius quam verbis_. In simple truth, the more a man says in claim of superior wisdom, the less he is credited with the possession of any wisdom. But it is not merely a case of deeds versus words but also of “gentleness and modesty versus arrogance and passion” (Mayor), “in meekness of wisdom,” “with the modesty of wisdom” (Moffatt). Meekness was not ranked high among the Greeks. Aristotle (Eth. Nic. IV. v) considered it a second-rate virtue, “the mean between passionateness and impassionateness” (Plummer). Epictetus (bk. II, chap, i, § 36) says: “But think that thou art nobody and that thou knowest nothing.”