have kissed each other. Perfect God, perfect manthis is the one Catholic doctrine of the Person of Christ.

Has this doctrine of the Incarnation seemed to some to be a stumbling-block in the way of belief? Nay, it is the most powerful witness, the strongest recommendation, of Christianity. It marks off Christianity as the one true, absolute, final religion. If Christianity had stopped short of this, if Christianity had offered, as all other religions offer, some imperfect union between the human and the divine, it would have taken its place with other religions. It would have failed, like them, to find an adequate response to the yearnings of the human heart; it would have. failed, like them, to supply a solution to the problem which consciously or unconsciously underlies all the religious aspirations of mankind. And yet the solution was a surprise. It could not have been foreseen. It was unlike anything else which had gone before.

Therefore this doctrine is not a stumbling-block, not an encumbrance, to the Gospel. It is the very essence of the Gospel. It alone gives meaning, gives force, gives cohesion, gives finality, to the teaching of the Bible. It is the crown of the religious edifice. And so all other views of the Person of Christ—Arian, Socinian, Gnostic-condemn themselves, on this ground alone. They dethrone Christianity. They

deprive it of its significance. They stultify its title to universal dominion.

3. We have traced these two elements first in the record, and then in the substance of revelation. Let us consider them lastly in the Church, the guardian of revelation. Here too there is an external element, as well as a spiritual. It is possible to exalt the external at the expense of the spiritual. But it is possible also to neglect the external to the detriment of the spiritual. The Church is something more than a fortuitous concourse of spiritual atoms, a voluntary aggregation of individual souls for religious purposes. There is nothing accidental, nothing arbitrary, in the Church. The Church is an external society, an external brotherhood, an external kingdom, constituted by a Divine order. It has its laws, it has its officers, it has its times and seasons. It is not therefore a matter of indifference, how loosely or how firmly we hold by the Church. We cannot regard ourselves as mere individual units, concerned only with the salvation of our own souls. We are members of a brotherhood; we are citizens of a kingdom. There may be times when the Christian conscience will be perplexed, when our duties towards the visible body may seem to clash with our duties towards the invisible Head. But whatever may be the perplexities, however great may be the difficulty of balancing

our duties, this idea of a brotherhood, of a kingdom, with all the responsibilities which it carries with it, must never be lost sight of. Loyalty to this idea is essential to the equipment of a true Christian.

And this train of thought-the unity in duality, the combination of the external with the spiritual, as manifested everywhere in God's dealings with mankind-may fitly occupy your minds on this eve of the day when you purpose dedicating yourselves by the most solemn dedication to the special service of Almighty God.

Is it your call? What is the question, which will be put to you to-morrow-a question addressed to deacons and priests alike in a slightly different form?

'Do you think'-'think in your heart'-' that you are truly called, according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the due order of this realm'-' the order of this Church of England'-'to the ministry of the Church'-'to the order and ministry of priesthood?'

Here again the external and the internal are combined. There is the inward call-'according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ;' and the outward call -'according to the due order of this realm,' 'the order of this Church of England.'

Do you

so called?

indeed think from your heart that you are

This is the question which you will

answer to me to-morrow. This is the question which I want you to answer to yourselves this evening. 'According to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ.'

Has He spoken to you?

Has He commanded you?

Has He entreated you?

This voice of His, how is

it heard? This will of His, how is it expressed ?

Is it the old demand repeated once more? 'Put

may eat a

me into one of the priests' cffices, that I piece of bread?' This is no voice of His. This is the tempter's voice. The labourer indeed is worthy of his hire; but the hire is for the sake of the office, not the office for the sake of the hire. Better a thousand times that your tongue were cut out, than that you should answer the question in the affirmative, if you have no sounder reason for your answer than this. Is it again for the sake of the respectability, the position, which attaches to the clerical office? Cast this motive also behind your back. It is akin to the other. What then? The circumstances of your previous life point to it. You hardly recollect a time when you did not look forward to this step. Or, again; your friends desire it. You are willing to gratify their desire; for, wishing to serve Jesus Christ, you do not see why you should not serve Him in this way, as well as in any other. Or, again; there is in some particular place a work to be done; and, as no one else is forthcoming, you do not see why you should

not step forward. Good reasons these, but not adequate in themselves. A deeper underlying principle must be sought. For after all does not this question, 'Do you think that you are truly called, according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ', resolve itself into that previous question, 'Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost?'

'Inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost.' Do you hear a voice calling to you over the troubled waters of this life, 'Follow thou Me?' Are you conscious of an eager yearning not only to live Christ in yourself, but to declare Christ to others? Not indeed that this voice will be allowed to speak to your soul without interruption or dispute. Other sounds-piercing ones, tumultuous, clamorous-will be provoked into life by rivalry with it, and will well-nigh drown it with their noises. There will be the memory of past sins, so lightly committed (it may be) at the moment, so incongruous, so hideous now. These will shriek in your ears. There will be the sense, the crushing sense, of your weakness, your own inexperience. There will be the awe of embarking on an unknown future, a boundless ocean of possibilities which you can only vaguely forecast. This voice too will deafen you with its monotonous reiteration.

There will be the ideal of the clerical life, with its