When the writer was a small boy in Iowa, a presiding elder of the M. E. church lived in his town. He was an exceedingly corpulent man, weighing something over three hundred fifty pounds. One day he was taken very sick and a physician prescribed for him, leaving the medicine in the form of powders for him to take. The great, big preacher looked at the small powders and then at his bigness, and said to himself: "I am so large I think I would better take two of them." He accordingly took a double dose and soon discovered that they were putting him to sleep. His family and friends saw the awful mistake he had made, and determined to use desperate measures to keep him awake, or they well knew they would soon have a dead presiding elder on their hands. Accordingly, love went to work. They walked him about, switched him, and punished him in any way their quickened ingenuity could invent. In vain he begged them to let him alone and sleep, but they threshed him and punished him till they wore off the effect of the opiate and saved his life. Would any one question the promptings of love that led those people to give their presiding elder such a beating? I trow not. Did Jesus Christ love when He drove the money changers out of the temple at the end of a whip? Did Daniel have love when he faced the wicked Belshazzar and told him of his sins at the risk of his own life? Was there love in Jeremiah's heart when he swore to the truth and changed not, even if he did land in the dark, miry dungeon? Where was Joshua's love when he put his foot on the necks of the Canaanitish kings? What about Samuel and Agag? Look over the history of the Old and New Testaments and note some of the rugged measures taken by God's prophets and others, and see that it was not always of the easy-going, soft-gloved, alligator-teared type.