be organized, schools will be established-everywhere, even in the deserts, streams will burst forth and flow God-ward, turning the wilderness into Eden; native evangelists will press into the regions beyond, opposition will only make disciples strong, and martyr fires only kindle flames of love to God and man. Before a Church that enthrones Christ in the heart and follows Him everywhere, before a Church baptized with the fire of the Holy Ghost, nothing can stand. Francis Xavier stood before China and saw its vastness loom up like a mountain that shut out the very sky, and he cried, "O rock, rock, when wilt thou open to my Master?" And that rock still stands, the Gibraltar of heathenism. God waits to be asked, and wills to give us all this power simply for the asking. A dying world is about us-nay, a dead world-but the Word of Life is in our hands. O for the Spirit of Life! Let Him endue us, and our speech is no more with enticing words of man's wisdom, but with demonstration of the Holy Ghost. In the Valley of Indecision the wind of Heaven breathes, signs of life appear-the dry bones move-bone cleaves to bone: the skeleton of creed is clad with the flesh of faith, and, where the slain of Satan

lay, the hosts of God encamp. For such power from on high let us so earnestly seek, that every breath of spiritual life shall become a prayer!

VI.

THE DIVINE FRUIT OF MISSIONS.

HE fruit of missions constitutes a seal from God upon the work and the work

men.

When Mark brings his Gospel narrative to a conclusion, he significantly says, "And they went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord working with (them) and confirming the word with signs following." The Lord co-operated with His appointed and anointed workmen, and confirmed their work and His own word by appropriate signs.

In the book of the Acts of the Apostles, at least one representative instance is given of the various signs promised. Take Paul's experience alone. At Philippi, he cast out the demon from the divining damsel; at Ephesus, he laid his hands on disciples and they spake with new tongues; at Melita, he shook off the deadly viper that fastened on his hand and felt no harm; and at Ephesus likewise special miracles were wrought by his hands, so that from his body were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs or aprons,* etc.

* Acts xix. II, 12.

There are those who affirm that, at no time in subsequent Christian history, have supernatural signs ever been absolutely lacking, as evidences of the presence and power of Him who promised, saying, "Lo, I am with you alway." It is quite noticeable that, while this promise of the Lord's presence extends "to the end of the age," no such language is used about the signs; the difference in terms is very remarkable: And these signs shall follow them that believe." Here it is not said that those particular signs shall continue to be wrought, alway, even to the end of the age; but only that they "shall follow," as they did, for an indefinite time. Had our Lord meant to assure us that such signs should be as perpetual as His presence, it was easy for Him to add one word, 'alway," to make that plain. But He did not, and we infer that there was and is a deep reason. He foresaw that, while some signs would always follow faithful preaching and true believing, these were not to be perpetually wrought; and that, while some signs would always be needful to accredit the work as His own, these particular signs might not always be necessary, or even expedient. As a structure rises from base to cap-stone, we find it best to change the form, face, and even nature, of the material. The huge unhewn blocks which are laid as the foundation would be awkward, ungraceful, and unduly massive, in the superstructure; and so stones of lighter weight, chiselled

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into beauty and polished into lustre, wrought often into delicate forms, slender columnar shapes with capitals of exquisite tracery, airy arches and lancelike pinnacles, rise toward heaven. There is not more difference between the rough, bulky bulb of a hyacinth and the tender, slender petals, than between the rude and massive basal stones and the white blossoms which burst into stony flowers above them. But all are equally parts of one building. And so the primitive signs, wrought in the apostolic age, had their special design and served their special purpose. They laid the base of apostolic work and testimony; but, when foundations were thus laid, it was perhaps better that, as the structure rose upon this base, the supernatural character of the work should be attested in different ways, and the form of such attestation change with the demand of each new age; so that, while supernatural signs should never cease, they should acquire new force from their very variety. And, with Professor Christlieb, we firmly hold that, in the history of modern missions particularly, we find numerous occurrences which unmistakably remind us of the apostolic age; and, he adds, "We cannot, therefore, fully admit the proposition that no more miracles are performed in our day."

*

In fact, it is not rash to assert that there are still, in this remote day, supernatural signs curiously corresponding to the miracles of the first

* "Modern Doubt and Christian Belief," 332.

*

century.* Perhaps we need not hesitate to call them "modern miracles," since a miracle is simply a wonder and a sign combined, i.e., something transcending the power of man, to which God appeals as a sign of His power. "The blind receive their sight," when eyes, long blinded to sin and holiness, are opened to see the deformity of the one and the beauty of the other. "The lame walk," when moral impotency and inability are divinely displaced by power to resist even the most mighty temptations and to break the bonds of the most enslaving vices. "The lepers are cleansed," whenever the very blood becomes rid of the vile virus of lust, and the unclean beast becomes virtuous, humane, holy. "The deaf hear," when ears, hopelessly insensible alike to the warnings of justice and the invitations of mercy, and which even the thunders of Sinai could not pierce, now catch the whispers from Calvary and the still small voice of that Spirit that comes not in earthquake, storm, or roaring conflagration. "The dead are raised up," when those who have been destitute of all the energy, the sensibility, the vitality, and the activity of spiritual life, waken like Lazarus to cast off the death-damps and grave-clothes, and walk with God and work for God, and war against sin and Satan; when that upper story of our triple being, the true observatory of the spirit, which sin turned into a death

* "Modern Miracles," by Lelia Thomson.

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