ical forces were ages ago at work, which are at present in operation upon our own earth. And so, whenever we compare phenomena, no matter how distant they may be from each other in time or space, no matter how diverse they may at first sight appear, we now always expect to find in them an underlying unity of thought and purpose and mode of working; and sooner or later these expectations are fulfilled. In a word, throughout the entire physical universe, there are diversities of operations but the same reign of law.

This unity in the midst of diversity is to be found also in the spiritual sphere. There are diversities of gifts, says the apostle, but the same Spirit. The enumeration of these gifts a few verses later on is not of course intended to be exhaustive, but merely illustrative. You will notice those which St Paul mentions may be roughly divided into two classes. The first, or secular class, includes the gifts of teaching, of healing, and of government. The second, or religious class, includes those of prophecy and of tongues. What this last precisely was, I do not know. But there would seem to have been a very great and unholy emulation among the Corinthian Christians to possess it. They looked

upon it as a peculiarly spiritual endowment.

St

Paul was anxious to show them that this state of mind was foolish and wrong. The gift of tongues, he says, is only one of many spiritual gifts, and by no means the best. He declares that in comparison with charity, or the enthusiasm of man for man, this highly coveted gift of tongues is nothing worth. He mentions a crucial test by which spiritual gifts may be known, and their relative value determined. "The manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal; "—that is, as we see from the context, for the purpose of doing good therewith. Even a secular endowment, such as the power of healing, becomes a gift of the Spirit to him who is desirous of using it worthily,—of using it for the welfare of his fellow-men. Such a desire is an inspiration that can only come from above, and this inspiration transforms what would otherwise be a mere natural endowment into a gift of the Spirit. The mistake of the Corinthians was similar to one that is not uncommon in the present day. It is sometimes imagined that a man in holy orders is, in virtue of those orders, a better Christian than a layman,-that a clergyman as such is, in an especial degree, under the guidance of the Spirit of God. So foolish and

unscriptural a supposition is not at all necessary in order to vindicate the usefulness of the clergy as a class of teachers. If, in the choice of his profession, a clergyman has followed the guidance of his natural inclinations and sympathies and gifts, and if he has made a good use of his education and of his leisure, he will often be able, in cases of mental or spiritual difficulty, to render the greatest assistance to men who have had to devote the most of their time and the best of their energies to purely secular pursuits. But after all, even in spiritual matters, there is no exclusively clerical prerogative. I pity the clergyman who has not sometimes been ministered unto when he went to minister. If he has never been taught by a layman some spiritual lesson more valuable than any he was able at the time to impart, the chances are that he is not a specially inspired priest, but rather a peculiarly obtuse man. Profitableness, according to the apostle, is the sole test and criterion of spiritual gifts. He is the most highly gifted man who does the most good. Human endowments are very diverse, but in so far as the world is made better by them, they are all to be regarded as divinely bestowed. There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit.

And further, not only do different gifts proceed from the same Spirit, but there are different developments of the self-same gift. Let us take,

for example, the instinct of worship. If anything deserves to be called pre-eminently a gift of the Spirit, it is surely the tendency in the human heart to recognise and reverence God. Yet the developments of this instinct are various in the extreme. The instinct is God's work, the development of the instinct is man's. The office of the Spirit, you will observe, is not to provide us with an infallible set of doctrines or an immaculate set of actions. His work is to give us powers, instincts, emotions, and sentiments, which will be differently developed in different indivi

duals.

"God fulfils Himself in many ways,

Lest one good custom should corrupt the world."

There would be no use in our receiving a certain set of opinions, however correct; there would be no advantage in our having a certain set of actions extorted from us, however excellent. Barren uniformity is death. Our spiritual life consists essentially in our co-operation with God. And the co-operation of different individuals, under different circumstances, leads of necessity

to a diversity of opinions and of practices. For instance, the attempt to form a conception of God is in every case due to the divinely-given instinct of worship, but the conceptions actually formed will vary according to circumstances. Some men will be so anxious to represent God to themselves, that they will give too much licence to their imaginations, and thus tend to Anthropomorphism; others will be so fearful of irreverence that they will scarcely venture to assign Him any determinate attributes, and thus tend to Pantheism. You remember Lord Houghton's words

"It must be that the light divine

That on your soul is pleased to shine

Is other than what falls on mine.

For you can fix and formalise

The Power to which you raise your eyes,
And trace Him in His palace skies.

You can perceive and almost touch

His attributes as such and such,
Almost familiar over-much.

You can His thoughts and ends display,
In fair historical array,

From Adam to the judgment-day.

I cannot think Him here or there;
I think Him ever everywhere,

Unfading light, unstifled air.”