can hardly imagine how such questions could ever have been a topic of serious thought.

Yet there

are other matters of opinion, hardly yet remitted to the region of the unknowable, the discussion of which appears almost as hopeless. Some of these belong also to the invisible world; others again to the metaphysics of practical theology; as if there could be no satisfactory acceptance of the Gospel message, or proclamation of it to others, until we could decide how the infinite and finite will can co-exist, how faith can be man's duty while it is God's gift, whether inability is natural or moral or both, and how far responsibility exists in spite of it. Such problems agitated many very devout minds in the past generation: perhaps they have now gone the way of that which once troubled the inquirer who came to Christ with the question, 'Lord, are there few that be saved?' and to whom the Master simply answered, in a way which may be the model for our own dealing with many a speculative difficulty-'Strive ye to enter by the narrow door.'1 True philosophy and sincere devoutness alike turn from the unknowable to that which may be known.

1 Luke xiii. 24.

There is such a thing, then, as a wise Christian agnosticism. Humility will confess, 'I do not know'; it may seem presumption to add, ' And no man can know.' Yet this must sometimes be asserted by all who understand the limitations of human powers. Be sure that not a few questions which perplex us now will one day be acknowledged to belong to the realm of darkness.

For

around the central convictions which are a man's deepest Faith, and the further beliefs that constitute his cherished Opinions, there extends on every side a nebulous region, so to speak—a sphere of mystery, bounded over its whole circumference by the clouds and darkness that are round about the Throne of God. By thought and study we may gradually extend the boundaries of clear conviction and settled faith, winning new conquests from the realm of uncertainty, and turning cloudland into light. But there is a limit in every direction to the possibilities of our acquirement; and to our present faculties much will remain dimly mysterious or altogether dark. Only at the centre let there be light! 'God is in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself.' There, I repeat, is the central verity, which with its kindred truths

and far-reaching consequences-as yet by us how dimly seen!—will one day fill the whole sphere with its glory.

'First a Christian,' said Rabbi Duncan, 'then a Catholic.' So far this is unquestionably the Divine order-a universal truth, therefore a universal fellowship. For every ground of separation becomes as nothing in comparison with this great uniting reality. Yet it is to be feared that we have somewhat lost the idea of the Catholic Church, in fact that we are content to let it go. We are so justly impatient of the spiritual arrogance that limits the fellowship of Christians to a single community, separated from the rest of mankind by a visible line of demarcation, a boundary which includes multitudes of the unspiritual and equally excludes a multitude of the spiritual, that we have been ready to ask whether Universality be a note of the Church on earth at all. There is, we know, a Church invisible, the company of all the people of God on earth and in heaven; but is it possible, in the present state of things, to make this sublime unity manifest? Surely it ought to be possible. 'That they all may be one,' the Master prayed,

'that the world may believe.' A spiritual, invisible unity is no complete answer to this prayer. For the world cannot be convinced by what it does not see. Nay, according to its own judgment, it sees very much the contrary. Thus, I open a work on the Thirty-nine Articles by the late Dr. Jelf, and read this sentence: The Quakers, never having been baptized, and denying the very notion of baptism, are not Christians at all, and in fact are gross Socinians.'1 Now, I ask, what must the ordinary unbiassed reader, conversant with the history of the Society of Friends, think of a statement like this? Their piety, zeal, self-denial, charity, their devotion to God, and their labours for mankind, are all to go for nothing! They are

not Christians at all' because they have not been baptized! One is almost tempted to say, that if this were the spirit of Christianity, no external evidence could ever prove it to be from God. Yet similar dicta are not infrequent in controversial works.

Sometimes, again, the assertion is made, not of individuals but of Churches. The persons

themselves, it is conceded, may be Christians, but their association is not a Christian Church. I

1 On the Thirty-nine Articles, p. 236.

have noticed on more than one recent occasion when Churchmen have fraternised with Nonconformists in a most cordial and delightful way, with mutual interchange of Christian greetings and good wishes, all evidently sincere, how carefully the word Church is avoided by the former in all references to our fellowship. We have Societies and Communities; we are Denominations and Bodies, but never Churches. In some way or other we are given to understand that we are still without the pale; and all discussions respecting ultimate unity hinge upon this-how are the wanderers (not to use the offensive terms heretics and schismatics) to be gathered into our system? 'There is one Body,' said an Apostle, 'and one Spirit.' The one Spirit may be conceded, though doubtfully; one Body there certainly is not, if the Body means that which is apparent; and the Christian thinker is fain to be content with the thought that, although Sectarianism is unavoidable on earth, there will be no sect in heaven.1

This state of things cannot last for ever. But how is it to be remedied? Not, I would venture

1 See Appendix, Note 18: Discussion on the Catholicity of Orthodox Nonconformists.