e aim of all forms and ceremonies of worship, but also
the inexorable condition on which alone that height of communion can be
secured and sustained. Two _may_ walk together, though the one be God in
heaven and the other be I on earth. But they have to be agreed thus far,
at any rate, that both shall wish to be together, and both be going the
same road.

I. So I ask you to look, first, at that possible blessed companionship
which may cheer a life.

There are three phrases in the Old Testament, very like each other, and
yet presenting different facets or aspects of the same great truth.
Sometimes we read about 'walking before God' as Abraham was bid to do.
That means ordering the daily life under the continual sense that we are
'ever in the great Taskmaster's eye' Then there is 'walking after God,'
and that means conforming the will and active efforts to the rule that
He has laid down, setting our steps firm on the paths that He has
prepared that we should walk in them, and accepting His providences.
But also, high above both these conceptions of a devout life is the one
which is suggested by my text, and which, as you remember, was realised
in the case of the patriarch Enoch--'walking with God.' For to walk
before Him may have with it some tremor, and may be undertaken in the
spirit of the slave who would be glad to get away from the jealous eye
that rebukes his slothfulness; and 'walking after Him' may be a painful
and partial effort to keep His distant figure in sight; but to 'walk
with Him' implies a constant, quiet sense of His Divine Presence which
forbids that I should ever be lonely, which guides and defends, which
floods my soul and fills my life, and in which, as the companions pace
along side by side, words may be spoken by either, or blessed silence
may be eloquent of perfect trust and rest.

But, dear brother, far above us as such experience seems to sound, such
a life is a possibility for every one of us. We may be able to say, as
truly as our Lord said it, 'I am not alone, for the Father is with me.'
It is possible that the dreariest solitude of a soul, such as is not
realised when the body is removed from men, but is felt most in the
crowded city where there is none that loves or fathoms and sympathises,
may be turned into blessed fellowship with Him. Yes, but that solitude
will not be so turned unless it is first painfully felt. As Daniel said,
'I was left alone, and I saw the great vision.' We need to