which are in excess is sure to follow to the opposite extreme. But as the ages come and go the violence must cease, the oscillation will cover less distance, until the variation from the mean of truth will be only that which the mind at its best will always require.

No union of Protestantism and Romanism is possible. Their fundamental principles are absolutely irreconcilable, those of Protestantism being the all-sufficiency of the Word, and the right of private judgment in its interpretation; while Romanism demands absolute subjection of the individual mind to the visible fabric of which the pope is the head. Turning from the immediate to the ultimate future of the Church, we may at once dismiss all fear; for is it not written of Jesus, "He shall see of the travail of His soul, and be satisfied?" And does not St. Peter, speaking of the time of His second coming, expressly declare: "The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is long-suffering to usward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance?" This is the place of refuge for the genuine Christian optimist. Whether the coming of Christ be delayed or hastened, the motive on the part of Him who sent His Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved, is to increase the number of the saved; and the same words declare that it is through the Church of Jesus Christ that this is to be done. Whatever, therefore, the changes which may take place, whether one denomination flourish or decline, the work of salvation must and does go forward.

The ultimate Church upon the earth will fulfil all the prophecies concerning it. Its standard of truth will be God's Word. It will enforce no theory of inspiration, but all its members will believe that its fundamental principles came by inspira

tion of God; and that miraculous displays of His infinite attributes attended the revelation. The Church will then have a simple yet comprehensive creed. Christian views of creation, sin, spiritual renewal, of Christ, of human responsibility, duty, privilege, destiny, will be so stated as to reveal the essentials of salvation. Metaphysical distinctions will be left to those who love them and can trace them.

The rules of the ultimate Church will be few. The mania for making new laws for God's people upon points upon which inspiration has not spoken will give place to the Christian liberty exhibited by St. James, and endorsed and illustrated by St. Paul. In it all believers will be equal, not intellectually, commercially, or socially, but in privilege and in spirit; caste and the tyranny of worldly aristocracy will be unknown. Cant will disappear. Believers will be as careful to use words in their true meaning upon religion as they are in making business contracts. The standard of living will be midway between asceticism and luxury, and all will joyfully conform to it. The servants of God will give as he hath prospered them, needing only instruction as to the best modes of serving Him with their substance. Stratagem and appeals to carnal motives will no longer be needed. Reason and enthusiasm will modify each other, so that knowledge will not be found without zeal, or zeal that is not according to knowledge; for God will have put His laws into their mind, and written them in their hearts. The immoral will not seek place in the Church. Discipline will be helpful to the penitent, but not tolerant to the incorrigible. Revivals will not be needed in the Church, but will arise from the united efforts of true believers to save sinners. The normal condition of the ultimate Church will be that of devotion; but while sinners remain upon the earth it will, from

time to time, according to the indications of God's providence and the movements of His Spirit, gird itself to aggressive movements.

Science and religion will walk hand in hand; though till the last there may be irreligious scientists, and some Christians so ignorant or timid as to fear that the increase of knowledge in the sphere of nature necessarily implies the destruction of faith in the realm of religion. Social questions as such, which in the interval must receive more attention than heretofore, will then have disappeared, Christians being governed wholly by the principles of the Gospel; the evils which vex and oppress society, so far as they are the result of un-Christian principle or spirit, will have faded away. The area of sin and of selfish competition will have diminished until the rich and the poor shall dwell together in unity, the brother of low degree rejoicing in that he is exalted, and the rich in that he is made low. In that happy time all true believers will be joined in heart, gladly emphasizing points of agreement, and true to their convictions where differing in judgment, maintaining the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

How shall this glorious result be achieved? The Church of to-morrow depends in large measure upon our living to-day; and all our powers should be applied to discover the mind of God. The ideal of abstract purity, reverence, zeal, co-operation, catholicity, supremacy, universality, and spirituality which we find in the Word should always be held before us as our model, and displayed by us for the guidance of others. Whatever we see in the Church of to-day distorted we should endeavour to mould into harmony with the spirit of Christ, or eliminate; and correct that which is defective.

Ever should we be comparing the principles of the Gospel with the age in which we live. Especially does

it devolve upon us to beware of the delusive theory that the Church of Jesus Christ is to be the creature or servant of the age. Alliance with the world has ever been the precursor of wickedness. We are to sow in the hearts of this generation undoubting faith in God's Word, unselfish devotion to His law.. According to our teaching and living will future standard-bearers be strong towers or reeds shaken by every wind of doctrine; seekers after the unsearchable riches of Christ, ambitious only to hear his voice saying, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord;" or covetous only of the dross which perisheth, and thirsting for the applause of men.

Neither mournfully recalling the past, nor gazing feebly upon a conflicting present, nor paralyzed by an unworthy fear of the future, we should concentrate every energy of heart and mind upon the perfecting of our individual characters and the perfecting and strengthening of the Church of the present. Thus human providence will labour together with God's providence to make the Church of the future a glorious Church, "not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, holy and without blemish."

"How wrought I yesterday?" Small moment, now,

To question with vain tears, or bitter

moan,

Since every word you wrote upon the sands

Of yesterday hath hardened into stone.

"How work to-morrow?" "Tis a day unborn,

To scan whose formless features is not granted;

Ere the new morning dawns, soul, thou mayest wing

Thy flight beyond to-morrow, disenchanted.

"How shall I work to-day?" O, soul of mine!

To-day stands on her threshold, girt to lead

Thy feet to life immortal; strive with fear; Deep pitfalls strew the way; take heed,

take heed!

THE mackerel had come, and every boat from Cromley village, on the east coast of England, had been equipped and sent out to make the most of their short harvest. Their crews had grown up on the sea, and loved their floating home as much as their safer one upon the land.

Born seamen every one, but of them all none better than Tom Walters, and no vessel stouter than his boat, the Jane. On shore, too, he was as much envied, for no home was snugger, no wife trimmer, no children fairer than were his.

For three days they had been busy with the catch, the smaller boats going out in the morning and returning at night. But the larger vessels went further out, and remained away for days. Then the men made the boards their bed, and slept to the rocking and lullaby of the ocean.

On this afternoon they had been particularly busy until, suddenly, the fish had deserted them. Then, having time to look around them, they noticed the threatening appearance of the sky, and at once made for home, with the exception of Tom only. At that time he had been standing further out, and was in the midst of a hungry school. The fish rushed at the bait. The lines were drawn, the fish flipped into the barrels, the lines replaced and redrawn until arms and back ached with the exertion, and the perspiration ran in streams down their faces and necks. Then, in a moment, the fish vanished as they had from the other boats, and, in the pause, Tom and his crew, too, noticed the storm ready to burst upon them, and it filled them all with fear.

From west to north trailed a huge, inky cloud upon the horizon. Beneath, it seemed caught back and

clinging to the earth and sea; above, it bulged out into one vast, motionless fold. Above this, though there was but little movement, there were signs of fearful force. The clouds rolled uneasily, swelled out, and were sucked back, while from within them were beginning to come low growls and moans of thunder.

Higher still, more terrible currents were contending. Masses of clouds, swirling into spirals, writhed and twisted like huge serpents. Still above this the lighter, grayish clouds came and went, passed and repassed in contrary currents, while some hung motionless, as if held in poise, or uncertain what impulse to obey. Skirting all, in mid-heaven, were blown out ragged, ghostly shapes, that ever changed within themselves, and seemed to point before with wicked glee and to marshal on ward the awful force of the storm; while all around was that portentous, dead silence, that strains the nerves like the blanching pause before the battle.

Not a moment was wasted on board the boat. The sails were run up, every rope looked to, every brace examined, for the crew knew too well their danger-knew, too, that in a few moments it was to be a fight for life.

Up to that time the wind had been coming from the south and southwest, in warm, fitful breaths that scarcely kept the sails full; but in a moment it veered from south to west and to north-west. It smote the contending clouds, and with one blow it crushed their mutiny, and rolled them forward in a solid mass. The men saw it swoop upon the blackening sea and toss it into foaming billows. They saw it rush toward them in a wall of darkness, crested with gleams of white. Now the ves

sel's sails filled to bursting, and she raced the madcap waves. Now the fury of the wind was all but on her. Down came the sails, but not a moment too soon. The sea shivered around the trembling boat; the storm struck her, and turned her haif about; then she righted, and flew on, under bare masts, fast as the wind-driven foam. Above them stretched a low, hopeless, black-gray sky; about them one dim, wild commingling of mist and wave and wind.

A considerable time before this the remainder of the little fleet had reached the shore and safely secured their boats. All the women and children of the village had crowded around eager to learn of the success of the catch. At first all was shouting and laughter, and no one had an anxious thought about the absent ones. But presently they noticed the rapid changes, and the laughter was suddenly hushed. Few words were spoken now, and all watched with awful intensity that little white spot that soon would have to battle with sea and air.

"She'll blow a stunner soon, mate," said one, through clenched teeth, to his neighbour, and his answer was one brief "Ay," that came with a groan, for it was a father who spoke, and his son was on the Jane.

Then they, too, saw the wind and wave advance upon the little craft, and heard the far-off, sullen sweep rise into a fierce roar. Then it seemed as if a hand stretched out and drew a pall of darkness over all the ocean, and they could no longer make out the boat or see whether she still survived. They were standing on a height overlooking the sea. From either side extended a semi-circular arm of land, that projected for a considerable distance, until right before them the two nearly met. Through this narrow opening was the entrance to the harbour. To make it was to be safe from the strongest gale that could

blow; to miss it was to be crushed like an egg shell upon the jagged rocks outside.

Presently, either through the darkness lifting, or their eyes becoming accustomed to it, they saw far out the little wraith-like vessel swaying and tossing, still holding bravely on. The crew had been standing to the north-east of the harbour, and as the wind was from the north and northwest, they would have to beat up against it somewhat to make the entrance. They had gained as much as they could at first, knowing well that under the full force of the storm it would probably be impossible to control the boat at all. But now the question was soon to be settled whether she would ever gain the entrance or had made her last run to Cromley harbour. Nearer and nearer they were swept, and still they could not tell whether they would reach it. Now a fresh gust seemed to carry them too far down; again, a lull seemed to make them gain.

Brave seamanship, that! Grand calculation miles away, that brought them so near to that few yards of opening. Closer and closer, and still it was in doubt. The gazers on the shore could see them now upon the deck, and watch their movements. Every man was in his place, from Captain Tom to widow Wilson's only son, the last of her family to survive the sea, for every one of them-and there was not a coward among them all-had perished in its depths. Not more than ten seconds remained to settle the question of life and death. Those on shore watched them with eager eyes, and strong men braced themselves as though the shock was to be theirs, and strained until they could hear in their ears their heart beat above the storm. Still at the very entrance, the lurching of the vessel seemed sufficient to save or shatter. Just at this point, even while some had half drawn that