seek to divest Christianity of all that is mysterious or supernatural and to reduce it, as much as possible, to a purely natural religion, to something that can be weighed and measured by the understanding, or that approves itself to the feelings; to something, in short, that is self-evident to the natural man.

There is, in our day, a marvellous idolatry of talent; it is a strange and a grievous thing to see how men bow down before genius and success. Draw the distinction sharp and firm between these two things-goodness is one thing, talent is another. It is an instructive fact that the Son of Man came not as a scribe, but as a poor working man. He was a teacher, but not a Rabbi. When once the idolatry of talent enters the Church, then farewell to spirituality; when men ask their teachers, not for that which will make them more humble and God-like, but for the excitement of an intellectual banquet, then farewell to Christian progress.1

Artists have united with authors to strengthen this idolatry of intellect. One of the great pictures in the French Academy of Design assembles the immortals of all ages. Having erected a tribunal in the centre of the scene, Delaroche places Intellect upon the throne. And when the sons of genius are assembled about that glowing centre, all are seen to be great thinkers. There stand Democritus, a thinker about invisible atoms; Euclid, a thinker about invisible lines and angles; Newton, a thinker about an invisible force named gravity; La Place, a thinker about the invisible law that sweeps suns and stars forward towards an unseen goal. The artist also remembers the inventors whose useful thoughts blossom into engines and ships; statesmen whose wise thoughts blossom into codes and constitutions; speakers whose true thoughts blossom into orations; and artists whose beautiful thoughts appear as pictures. At this assembly of the immortals great thinkers touch and jostle. But if the great minds are remembered, no chair is made ready for the great hearts. He who lingers long before this painting will believe that brain is king of the world; that great thinkers are the sole architects of civilization; that science is the only providence for the future; that God Himself is simply an infinite brain, an eternal logic engine, cold as steel, weaving endless ideas about life and art, about nature and man. But the throne of the universe is mercy and not marble; the name of the world-ruler is Great Heart, rather than Crystalline Mind, and God is the Eternal Friend who pulsates out through His world those forms

1 F. W. Robertson.

of love called reforms, philanthropies, social bounties and benefactions, even as the ocean pulsates its life-giving tides into every bay and creek and river. The springs of civilization are not in the mind. For the individual and the State "out of the heart are the issues of life."1

A dour old Scot upon his deathbed was informed by his wife that the minister was coming to pray with him. "I dinna want onybody tae pray wi' me," said he. 'Well, then, he'll speak words of comfort tae ye." "I don't want to hear words o' comfort," said the intractable Northcountryman. "What do ye want, then?" asked his wife. "I want," was the characteristic reply, "I want tae argue."2

iii. Them that are Called.

St. Paul places this class of hearers in sharp contrast to all others. He forcibly separates the "called" Jews and Gentiles from the mass of their fellow-countrymen; to the called themselves, he says, as opposed to all others. The term "called" here includes the notion of believers. Sometimes "calling" is put in contrast to the acceptance of faith, as in Matt. xxii. 14, "Many called, few chosen." But often also the description "called " implies that of acceptor, as it certainly does here.

1. The Apostle exalts the Divine act in salvation; he sees God's arm laying hold of certain individuals, drawing them from the midst of those nationalities, Jewish and Gentile, by the call of preaching. St. Paul thinks of the constituent elements of which the church of Corinth was actually composed. These Corinthian Christians were of no account, poor, insignificant, outcasts, and slaves, friendless while alive and when dead not missed in any household; but God called them and gave them a new and hopeful life in Christ Jesus. It is plain that it is not by human wisdom, nor by power, nor by anything generally esteemed among men that we hold our place in the Church. The fact is that *not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called." If human wisdom or power held the gates of the Kingdom, we ourselves would not be in it. To be esteemed, and influential, and wise is no passport to this new kingdom. It is not men who by their wisdom find out God and by their nobility 1N. D. Hillis, The Investment of Influence, 133.

2 Arch. Alexander.

of character commend themselves to Him; it is God who chooses and calls men, and the very absence of wisdom and possessions makes men readier to listen to His call.

2. The people that are called are those who have heard the voice of God and responded to it. The old theologians distinguished between a general and an effectual calling. So far they were correct enough, but they erred in laying the cause of the distinction on God. There is no difference in the call. The difference lies in this, that in one case the heart responds to it, and in the other it does not. God never fails in anything He does, so far as His part of the work is concerned. God's call comes forth clear and strong, a great shout of power to the wide world, but only some respond and are raised to the power of God, and to the enjoyment of His life.

3. In St. Paul's day this argument from the general poverty and insignificance of the members of the Christian Church was readily drawn. Things are changed now; and the Church is filled with the wise, the powerful, the noble. But St. Paul's main proposition remains: whoever is in Christ Jesus is so, not through any wisdom or power of his own, but because God has chosen and called him. The sweetness and humble friendliness of St. Paul sprang from his constant sense that whatever he was he was by God's grace. He was drawn with compassion towards the most unbelieving because he was ever saying within himself, There, but for the grace of God, goes Paul.

I owned a little boat a while ago,

And sailed a morning sea without a fear,
And whither any breeze might fairly blow
I'd steer the little craft afar or near.
Mine was the boat,

And mine the air,
And mine the sea,
Not mine a care.

My boat became my place of nightly toil;
I sailed at sunset to the fishing ground;

At morn the boat was freighted with the spoil
That my all-conquering work and skill had found.

Mine was the boat,
And mine the net,
And mine the skill,
And power to get.

One day there passed along the silent shore,
While I my net was casting in the sea,
A Man, who spoke as never man before;
I followed Him-new life began in me.
Mine was the boat,

But His the voice,
And His the call,

Yet mine the choice.

Ah! 'twas a fearful night out on the lake,
And all my skill availed not at the helm,
Till Him asleep I wakened, crying, “Take,
Take Thou command, lest waters overwhelm !"
His was the boat,

And His the sea,

And His the peace,

O'er all and me.

Once from His boat He taught the curious throng,
Then bade me let down nets into the sea;
I murmured, but obeyed, nor was it long,
Before the catch amazed and humbled me.
His was the boat,

And His the skill,
And His the catch,
And His my will.1

II.

THE MESSAGE.

1. Preaching. The clear, creative imagination of St. Paul could penetrate into the brain of the Roman and look through his eyes; into the intellect of the Greek and judge with his cynicism; into the spirit of the Hebrew and feel with his heart, or dream with his fancy. And as he looked at the men he could read their thoughts without the help of words, translating the scowl on the Hebrew's face into bitter speech, the scorn on the 1 Joseph Richards.

Greek's lip into eloquent reproach. But though he knew the thoughts of the men he did not dare be silent in their presence. For God sent him to preach the Gospel, and he preached it possessed with the passion for souls that is the image in man of grace in God.

(1) "But we preach." St. Paul refused to make any compromise. He was very clearly conscious of the two great streams of expectation and wish which he deliberately thwarted and set at naught. "The Jews ask for signs"-but we preach Christ crucified. "The Greeks seek after wisdom"-but again, we preach Christ crucified. To all their subtleties, whether of outward sign or of inward wisdom he opposed the simple fact of his preaching.

(2) "We preach." The word "preach" is emphatic; it means in its full signification " to proclaim as a herald does." St. Paul proclaimed his Gospel simply as a fact. The Jew required a sign; he wanted a man who would do something. The Greek sought after wisdom; he wanted a man who would perorate and argue and dissertate. St. Paul says, "No!" "We have nothing to do. We do not come to philosophize and to argue. We come with a message of fact that has occurred, of a Person that has lived."

¶ Preaching is an institute peculiar to the Gospel. Nothing can be preached but the Gospel, so nothing can be done with the Gospel but preach it. It is not a mere law to be enjoined, or a philosophy to be developed by human thought, or a series of articles to be taught. In its naked essence, it is a fact of God's doing, a Divine datum, a salvation provided, stored, and offered in the person of a Saviour. As such, it is to be asserted, declared, published, heralded.1

2. Preaching Christ.-St. Paul proclaimed a Person, not a system of philosophy. We can adore a person, but we cannot adore principles. It is not merely Purity, but the Pure One; not merely Goodness, but the Good One, that we worship. Some of the Greek teachers were also teaching Purity, Goodness, Truth; they were striving to lead men's minds to the First Good, the First Fair. The Jewish Rabbis were endeavouring to do the same; but it is only in Christ that it is possible to do this effectually, it is only in Christ that we find our ideal realized.

1

1 J. O. Dykes.