for the carelessness of life and apathetic perfunctory manner in which missionary work was done. After all deductions made, the name and power of Christ were never greater in the world than now.

But how does our Church exercise her prophetic office? To make Christ known by every act of her services, by every private ministration, is her high and holy duty. But in every age she has so proclaimed her Master, as to meet the wants and feelings of that particular time. Even the holy books bear witness to this; and it is a commonplace of theological teaching, that the Evangelist St. Matthew laid stress upon the fulfilment of Jewish prophecy in Jesus; and that St. John, without descending from his lofty position to the level of polemics, so shaped the teaching in his Gospel that the emerging Gnostic errors might be best met. Writing to the Romans, St. Paul so sets forth salvation through Jesus Christ that the many Jews amongst them might see how completely the Gospel answered a question which the law had loudly asked. Every age has its own thoughts, and needs its own appropriate teaching. And, more, perhaps, than any other time, this waning nineteenth century needs its proper treatment and discipline. But the new theories, physical and social, have broken out like a flood upon it, and the waters are still mounting higher. It is no one's fault that the great body of the clergy are unprepared for these waves that are so mighty, and stand astonished on the brink. Meantime, the young (and the opinion of the man of five-and-twenty will be the opinion of the generation) are being carried away. The preaching that they hear will not arrest them. It is true, but its modes are antiquated. The pulpit brings two worlds together, the first century and the last: it brings the life and light of the first into harmony with the age in which we ourselves live, and move, and strive, and die. The old truth is the same, but we want the new expression. That living expression, that power which comes to the preacher from being able to think the thoughts that his hearers are full of, is often wanting. The old deference to the sermon as an utterance of authority is gone from the flock. “I seldom hear a sermon," said a great judge to me, "without wishing for the right of reply." That feeling is not confined to lawyers and to judges, with their dialectic training-the right of reply is freely claimed and used out of doors. Is this a time when sermons should be the echo of bygone generations that knew not Strauss and Häckel-should consist of artless reproductions of dispassionate commentators? Is the preacher's duty done when he has told his congregation what a parable is, and how leprosy was treated? The sermon is too often a cold, spiritless echo of the past. When all the world is throbbing with curiosity about the highest things; when immorality is making greater ravages daily, and the holy sanctions that alone

can restrain it are being secretly subtracted from the moral creed of each, we need from the pulpit more than ever the love that constrains and kindles, the sympathy that wins us to the preacher's side. "The sweet words,' says the poet Coleridge—

"Of Christian promise, words that even yet

Might stem destruction, were they wisely preached,
Are muttered o'er by men whose tones proclaim
How flat and wearisome they feel their trade."

That reproach is not true; these are they who during the week
have tended their sick folk, taught the young, given their days
to visiting and their evenings to instruction. And now on the
Sunday, from some timidity or want of self-confidence, some-
times from want of time or lack of pains, they have tamed their
utterance to passionless dulness, and their matter to the level of
absolute commonplace. It is a lamentable fate that brings a
good man to this position; his people eager for all kinds of
information, erecting here and there new altars "to the unknown"
and unknowable "God," ask him for bread; and he loves them,
and offers them the cold hard stone. I do not accuse; if I did
I would take on myself my share of the accusation. Let us
admit that there is much good and faithful preaching amongst
us, which is received with more joy and avidity, perhaps, than in
any other day. But the need is great and sore, and the army of
20,000 preachers should bestir themselves and keep pace with the
new intellectual movement and bustle. One of the parochial
clergy has said, "To whom belongs, if not to the clergy, the
office of creating and sustaining an enlightened public opinion
upon the alone sufficiency of the Christian revelation, to meet,
not only the spiritual, but also the moral and intellectual require-
ments of the composite being, man? Not following public
opinion, but leading it; and terribly in earnest. The clergy
are unprepared for the new call upon them; but the Church has
always fought against odds, and what appeared to be her rash-
ness has been her strength. The battle must not go by default.
God is with us; our message is His. If we believe this we shall
be bold, and our lips shall be touched with holy fire. The task
of St. Paul at Corinth was a hopeless task. To the heathen
observer, all science, wealth, civilisation, luxury, refinement, were
arrayed against his preaching; but one thing that observer could
not know, the Lord had spoken to him in his heart, 'Be not
afraid, but speak and hold not thy peace.
I have much
people in this city.' With the same voice He calls to us, 'Be
not afraid, but speak.""

There is another trial for the Church in this time. Ezekiel in his vision of the dry bones in the valley, invoked the breath, as he was commanded, "and the breath came into them, and they

*

"The 20,000 Clergy and the Present Crisis." By the Rev. R. F. Hessey.

lived, and stood upon their feet, an exceeding great army (Ezekiel xxxvii. 10). They were, we are told, "the whole house of Israel." They rose out of their graves (ver. 12), out of exile and despair, and a great future was before them; but how that future should become great and glorious not even the prophet could have fully explained. May not this striking parable, which, without the pencil of Doré, paints itself to our eyes, remind us of the throes of the people, awaking to the full consciousness of their condition, in this late century of the world's history, and asking what are their rights, and why their condition is what it is? Our Lord, when He showed His miracles, to convince the Baptist's disciples, added one miracle. "The poor have the gospel preached to them." Has the word of gladness come to them? From every country in Europe comes the reply of the poor themselves, that their social condition is miserable and should be improved. The various societies, open and secret, for bringing about political changes mean this. "It is a question of hunger" (magenfrage) said Prince Bismarck, with keen insight. If that be so, the demand may alter its form, but it will never cease. Now the Church of England has done. much for the poor, in education, in succour for the most needy, in rescue of the fallen; but the "mighty army has started to its feet, no longer with supplications, but with demands. It finds us unprepared; and no wonder. But we must either grapple with the wants of the people, or be content to resign the task of guiding them. To the latter alternative we cannot submit; to accept it would be to pronounce on ourselves the sentence of spiritual death. Then we are bound to look into such questions. It rests with those whose position is above that of the masses -thus writes a working man-" to say whether they are prepared to take up this question, or whether they will let it slide until a 'disturbing rush' sets in. If so, passion and prejudice come to the front, and reason and common sense are placed at serious disadvantage." The Church knows already that no great reformation of our social state can take place which is not founded on a reformation of the wills and tempers of individual men. But if she would gain the ear of those to whom she is sent, she must enter into their feelings and wishes, must distinguish what is reasonable from chimerical hopes and aspirations; must be able to show, with that fulness of knowledge of the facts of our social state, which alone will entitle her to speak, that for the sorrows and injustice of the past, the sins and passions of men are greatly accountable; and that to reckon on a future in which things will right themselves, merely by erasing all the past, is to forget that the same sins and passions will prevail in that future, and even with feebler forces to repress them. Against those blind guides who promise a future of selfevolved morality, of material holiness, of mechanical purity,

Christ is the witness whom the Church must call. When selfdenial and fruitful following of His example of purity shall be the rule, then, and not earlier, shall the golden age of peace have begun.

Our task is greater than before. We have always taught the truth; but the world that is to listen is far wider. We have always worked for the poor; but a new great army throngs upon us-wan, gaunt, solemn, with its axiom, "Men must eat," with its demands that all social machinery shall be altered so that all may be fed. Work that already seemed too great has increased around us. But the Church has never allowed herself to be deterred by misgivings as to the means. If the apostle asks, "Who is sufficient for these things?" (2 Cor. ii. 16), he lets us see before the epistle closes what is his spring of action. "My grace is sufficient for thee; for My strength is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. xii. 9). Our Lord is with us to this hour, and the difficulty of our task is the greatness of our opportunity.

"Moderate your expectations," says the man of sense, "to the standard of your very limited powers. Calculate how slender are your means as a Church, and be content with what you have." Yes; we will be moderate, with the moderation of the apostles, the eleven men who were bidden to go and teach all nations; with that of St. Paul, who cast an eager eye on Europe, and then on Rome herself; with that of Boniface, who conceived in his Devonshire home the notion of a mission to heathen Europe, and was so blessed as to earn the name of apostle of the Germans. If you preached your moderation to political England, you would be refuted by her vast colonies, by her great daughter, the United States, by the fulness of life in which we keep our hold upon an empire that has put its girdle round the earth. But our task is not to be worked out by rules and tables; we cannot retire from business like the trader who has realised enough. It is the work of God Himself, and so long as He speaks among us and works by us, we have not reached our limits; we may not sit still. As we have those gifts, and as we take care to use them with love and reverence and fidelity, the future of this Church may be yet more glorious and richer than in any past time. But we must dare much and endure the charge of rashness-must preach self-sacrifice and practise it; and in faithful teaching at home, in missions, in guidance of the poor, our aim should be that of the Master who is with us, to seek and save all our own, and to reach all nations with the tidings of gladness.

THE SERMON

BY

THE LORD BISHOP OF DERRY

PREACHED IN

ST. CUTHBERT'S CHURCH, CARLISLE,

ON TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 30TH, 1884.

"Wherefore if they shall say unto you, behold, he is in the desert; go not forth: Behold, he is in the secret chambers; believe it not. For as the lightning cometh out of the east, and shineth even unto the west; so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. For wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together."-St. Matthew xxiv. 26, 27, 28.

A CHURCH CONGRESS is, of course, intended to bring together Church people of more than average earnestness, determined to work upon and within Church lines-that is, upon Church principles. Now, there are two objections to Church principles, when they are held with anything like consistency, which are widely assumed to be unanswerable, and which render those principles peculiarly distasteful to the age in which our lot is cast. These objections are (1) exclusiveness, and (2) formality. Exclusiveness as regards popular religious movements-nay, as regards the worship and services of very many of our fellow Christians. We are, it is thought and said, tied and bound in ecclesiastical fetters. The most evangelical, or the most latitudinarian minister of our Church, is at best "an ambassador in bonds." The books which our clergy read for Divinity examinations, if we have assimilated their contents, entail unpleasant consequences upon us. We, indeed, and all the people hold the writers of those books as prophets; but like other prophets they are very inconvenient messengers, and we find that their principles sit awkwardly upon us. For instance, we live in some town where the Salvation Army is at work. We are at first repelled by obvious eccentricities and sensationalism, but after a time we are moved by what we hear of penitential tears, such as angels rejoice to witness, trickling