their laws), have little or nothing to do with religion. Let the age of the earth be what it may (we shall be very grateful to the British Association, or any other association, when it has settled for us how old the earth is, and how long man has been upon the face of it); let man spring in his physical system from some lower phase of life; let the Bible be resolved into its constituent sources by the power of modern analysis, and our views of it greatly change, as indeed they are rapidly changing,-all this does not change or destroy in one iota the spiritual life that throbs at the heart of humanity, and that witnesses to a Spiritual Life above. No science, truly so called, can ever touch this or destroy it, for the simple reason that its work is outside the spiritual or religious sphere altogether. Scientific presumption may suggest the delusiveness of this sphere, just as in former times religious presumption sought to restrain the inquiries of science. It may, when it becomes ribald with a fanaticism far worse than any fanaticism of religion, assail and ridicule the hopes which, amidst much weakness, have made men noble for more than eighteen Christian centuries. But science has no voice beyond its own province. The weakest and the

simplest soul, strong in the consciousness of the Divine within and above it, may withstand its most powerful assaults. The shadows of doubt may cover you, and you may see no light. The difficulties of modern speculation may overwhelm you, and you may find no issue from them. But there may be that within you which these cannot touch. If you wait till you have solved all difficulties and cleared away the darkness, you may wait for ever. If your religion is made to depend upon such matters, then I hardly know what to say to you in a time like this. I cannot counsel you to shut your minds against any knowledge. I have no ready answers to your questions, no short and easy method with modern scepticism. Inquiry must have its course in theology as in everything else. It is fatal to intelligence to talk of an infallible Church, and of all free thought in reference to religion as deadly rationalism to be shunned. Not to be rational in religion as in everything else is simply to be foolish, and to throw yourself into the arms of the first authority that is able to hold you. In this as in other respects you must "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling," remembering that it is "God which worketh in you." You must ex

amine your own hearts; you must try yourselves whether there be in you the roots of the divine life. If you do not find sin in your hearts and Christ also there as the Saviour from sin, then you will find Him nowhere. But if you find Him there, Christ within you as He was within St Paul,-your righteousness, your life, your strength in weakness, your light in darkness, the "hope of glory" within you, as He was all this to the thoughtful and much-tried apostle, -then you will accept difficulties and doubts, and even the despairing darkness of some intellectual moments, when the very foundations seem to give way, as you accept other trials; and looking humbly for higher light, you will patiently wait for it, until the day dawn and the shadows flee away.

THE

II.

THE DIVINE FATHERHOOD.

MATTHEW, vi. 9.-" Our Father which art in heaven."

Its

IE Lord's Prayer touches all hearts by its simplicity and comprehensiveness. familiar words come home to us with a living meaning in comparison with which all other words of prayer are cold. The more we use them, the more we feel what true, healthy, happy words of prayer they are-how deeply they reach all our spiritual necessities, and carry them forth in one harmonious utterance to the throne of grace. The prayer is also one of more manifold and hallowed associations than any other. It is the catholic prayer of Christendom-the few heaven-taught syllables which unite the hearts of the faithful everywhere, and amidst divisions of opinion and diversities of service, in parish church and cathedral choir,

draw the hearts of God's children together, and inspire them with a common feeling of brotherhood as they say, Our Father." It is the dearly-remembered prayer of childhood, when the mind as yet only vaguely understands what the heart with its deeper instinct owns; when the human realities of father and mother interpret the solemn language, and make its awe pass into sweetness. And in after-years, when we may have learned many forms of prayer, and sought a varied expression for the varied wants of life, the old beautiful words come back to us, as far more full of meaning-more adequate in their very simplicity-than all we have otherwise learned; and we realise the truth so near to the centre of all religion, that the child's heart is the highest offering we can offer unto Godholy and acceptable in His sight.

The opening words of the prayer—“Our Father which art in heaven"-form the keynote from which all the rest starts, and to which they lead up. Let us try in a simple, unsystematic way to find the meaning of the words. This meaning in a certain sense is not far to seek. The words of the text unfold three aspects of truth.

I. Fatherhood.