matters of fact. On one, the date of the Last Supper, Dr. Drummond sums up rather in John's favour. On the rest his verdict is mostly adverse. As to several of these, e.g. the four visits to Jerusalem unrecorded in the Synoptic narrative, and the cleansing of the Temple during the first of the two Pascal visits (our text of Jn 64, which implies a third, is contradicted by weighty secondcentury witnesses), I cannot agree with that verdict. But we will narrow the issue to the crucial point, the raising of Lazarus, which Dr. Drummond unhesitatingly rejects as history, sug. gesting that it may be designed to set forth in a vivid and picturesque form the truth that Jesus is the resurrection and the life' (p. 64). I need not stay to criticise his examination of this apparent event as a historian. It seems to me quite inconclusive. In fact, Dr. Drummond's mind is already made up à priori as a philosopher and a physicist, as he frankly states on p. 426. But I would put it to him and others most earnestly, that he cannot expect many thoughtful minds permanently to stand where he stands logically. This is not a matter of 'a large ideal or allegorical element' —which is frankly present in the Gospel-but of a confusion of the factual and the ideal of a kind and to a degree which must forfeit our respect for its writer, both intellectually and morally. It is no good beating about the bush. Put it in as fine a spirit as you may (e.g. on p. 429), and we come at last to this, as Dr. Marcus Dods has it (Expositor's Greek Testament, vol. i. 679): 'The writer professes to produce certain facts which have powerfully influenced the minds of men and have

produced faith,' in the hope that they may help to produce or deepen faith in others (2081). 'If these pretended facts were fictions,' if 'to accomplish his purpose he invents incidents,' then the writer is dishonest'; and nothing can save the spiritual power of his work from decay. It boots not to affirm that 'the notion of imposture in connexion with such a work cannot be entertained.' We welcome this as the instinctive conviction of such a man as Dr. Drummond; but he has failed to show how it can be a reasoned conviction. To do so he must go farther, or not so far. As an historian he has no locus standi where he would fain abide. He has not shown, or even attempted to show, how an eye-witness could record such an incident under the impression that it had once been enacted. To do this would be to secure consistency for his position, and so plausibility. Failing this, if he cannot sacrifice his (necessarily provisional) philosophy, so as to recognize facts transcending experience as historically unimpeachable, he must sacrifice the historical arguments which now seem to him to postulate an eye-witness and an apostle as author. This is no case of 'misunderstood metaphor' hardened into fact, as might be the case where another mind has intervened. It is memory, or it is fiction. Dr. Drummond has failed to face this issue, which is now the crucial one touching the Fourth Gospel; and for this reason his noble monograph attains no satisfying unity. It remains but a valuable collection of materials and of judgments in detail, aids to the student on his path towards a consistent theory.

ACTS XXIV. 16.

'Herein do I also exercise myself to have a conscience void of offence toward God and men alway.'R.V.

EXPOSITION.

'Herein.' That is for this reason,' because of his belief in the future resurrection; or, in other words, because he held the doctrine of the resurrection of the just and unjust, not as a mere speculative doctrine, but as a grave and awful reality. HowSON.

'I also.'-As well as my accusers and the Jews whom they represent.-PAGE.

'Do exercise myself.'-This verb is used twice in the Iliad meaning to work raw material into some object, to form curiously by art as a bowl, or a chariot finely wrought with gold. Hence to adorn, then to practise athletic arts, to discipline, to train as the human soul into its perfection. It implies training one's self, as in an art that requires practice for its perfection. -PELOUBET.

'To have a conscience void of offence toward God and men.'-'ATрóσкожоv is excellently translated void of offence, for the word may have two meanings: (1) not stum

bling, i.e. not offending, upright-in this sense Paul seeks to be void of offence toward God; (2) not stumbled against, i.e. not causing offence-in this sense Paul seeks to be void of offence toward men. The word only occurs twice elsewhere in N.T., both times used by Paul, namely, in its first meaning, Phil 11o; in its second meaning, 1 Co 1032.—Page.

'Alway.'-Not in the restricted modern sense, at all times, but in the wider sense suggested by its etymology, in all ways, which agrees well with the form and original meaning of the Greek word, through all, or by means of all.ALEXANDER.

THE whole verse might be given as the best statement of Paul's rule of conduct in dealing with his difficulty between Jews and Gentiles.-PAGE.

THE SERMON.

The Strengthening of the Conscience.

By the Rev. J. H. Jowett, M.A.

We do not create conscience ourselves; we do not acquire it at school; it has been with us from the beginning. It is an essential part of our equipment. What, then, exactly is it? In the Bible it is described under various figures.

I. Conscience is a voice-a voice which whispers guidance, singling out some things to be avoided and others to be pursued. It is not a voice of timid counsel, and of hesitating suggestion, but a voice of command and of authoritative power.

II. The Bible speaks of Conscience under another figure. It is a moral palate by which we are instinctively able to taste certain differences in character and conduct just as with the physical palate we taste differences in food. Without Conscience falsehood would taste like truth and malignity like love.

Is Conscience then universal, and is it of differing power in different people? Has everyone got this spiritual sense of taste? The answer to this is yes. No race of people, even among the most degraded tribes, has ever been found to whom every kind of character and conduct was alike. In every man there is an inborn sense that some things are right and others wrong. Is the Conscience of every man the same then? Does it work with the same scope and intensity in every life? Our everyday speech shows us at once that it does not. We say that one man has a very 'keen' Conscience, a conscience that can detect the most minute flavour of good and evil. Another man has a 'dull' Conscience, a Conscience that needs to have the sweet intensely sweet, and the bitter intensely bitter, before it can appreciate it.

Has the power and dominion of Conscience grown

with the race? Has our moral palate become more refined and more discerning with the increase of the years? We can answer this question from Bible history alone. The Law of Moses was given to the Israelites because they were only capable of appreciating broad differences between good and evil, but when Jesus Christ came He gave them a higher law, no more to love their friends only, but their enemies also. They were not only forbidden to kill, but to look upon anyone in anger.

Are we under any obligation with regard to our Conscience? Is it a sense or faculty altogether beyond our influence, or is it partially within our control? Yes, we can both refine and exalt our Conscience, and also debase it. Conscience warns us that a thing is wrong, and commands us to avoid it; if we disregard this warning, Conscience is debased. And if for a time Conscience is despised, it cannot be re-enthroned again as though it had never been neglected, it is permanently impaired. Its soft, discriminating touch has gone, and it no longer feels differences where tremendous differences exist. But, on the other hand, Conscience can also be purified. We can have, with Paul, a Conscience 'void of offence towards God and man.' The first step to possess a Conscience like this is to get our defiled Conscience purified, and that can be done only by the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ.' But Conscience must not be left when it is purified, it must be preserved and strengthened, and this can be done only by daily discipline and constant communion with God. The best way to discipline the Conscience is to exercise it in matters that formerly we were indifferent about. We must seek to be 'faithful in that which is least,' so that at the last we can say with Paul, 'void of offence.'

Ethical Athleticism.

By the Rev. William L. Watkinson.

The province of the Conscience is threefold: first, to inform us that an act is right or wrong; second, to command us to do the right and avoid. the wrong; and third, to applaud or punish us according to our conduct. To gain such a Conscience did Paul 'exercise' himself. The word exercise is remarkable. It is commonly used of the training of an athlete, and it implies strenuous daily effort-'I buffet my body and bring it into subjection.' We often think that the apostles, and Paul especially, had no troubles with their

own inward nature, all their troubles came from outside. And thinking this, we excuse our own poor lives on the plea that we have so many inward failings to combat. Here we find that St. Paul's nature was like ours, except that his temptations were more severe and the cravings of his body more keen, so that he had to undergo the most severe moral training. Day and night he continued in prayer and in meditation. And now, speaking to Felix, he can boldly say 'a conscience void of offence'-a conscience sensitive, imperative, and pure.

1. The sensitive conscience must discriminate between right and wrong, not in its wide distinctions, but in the most minute points. Our conscience, however, is apt to become blunted and its judgments confused, and there is only one way in which we can preserve the integrity and delicacy of this moral sense, and that is by constant communion with the absolutely Holy One.

2. The imperative conscience does not counsel, it commands. A modern author says: 'Conscience must not only reign, it must govern.' It is often compared to a compass which points aright, but it is more than that. It is like the new detector mariner's compass. If the ship goes out of its course, the bell of this compass rings and continues to ring loudly till the ship is brought into her proper course again.

And, now, if we have preserved the conscience. sensitive and imperative, we will also possess the approving and pure conscience. When we began our warfare, our conscience was cleansed at the Cross, and with Paul we will exercise ourselves to keep it pure.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

A Conscience.-Wouldst thou be faithful to do that work that God hath appointed thee to do in this world for His name? Then make much of a trembling heart and conscience; for though the Word be the line and rule whereby we must order and govern all our actions, yet a trembling heart and tender conscience is of absolute necessity for our so doing. A hard heart can do nothing with the Word of Jesus Christ. Keep then thy conscience awake with wrath and grace, with heaven and hell; but let grace and heaven bear sway.-JOHN BUNYAN.

Toward God and Men.-The Swedish nightingale,' Jenny Lind, left the stage, for no apparent reason, when money and applause and fame were pouring in upon her. Some time after, an English friend found her sitting by the sea, with a Lutheran Bible on her knee, looking out at the

glory of the sunset. As they talked together the friend asked, 'Madame Goldschmidt, how is it that you ever came to abandon the stage at the very height of your success?' 'When every day,' came the quiet answer, 'it made me understand less of this-(laying a finger on the Bible)—and nothing at all of that-(pointing to the sunset)—what else could I do?' We may pay too high a price for the best that the world can give.

It may be said that for several centuries preaching, as a recognized institution of the Christian Church, had been non-existent. Bishops who preached were rare exceptions. As a rule they were occupied in contests for power and honour, many of them being feudal lords, who headed their vassals clad in armour, while not a few of them led lives of shameless and unconcealed immorality. You have but to read such a book as Ranke's Lives of the Popes to see this. Better that these men did not try to preach, even if they were able. It would have been to add scandal and hypocrisy to sin. Scotland was then as bad as the rest of Europe, in some respects worse. You may remember the anecdote of the bishop who came to head a fray in the High Street of Edinburgh with armour beneath his gown; protesting eagerly about something, he struck his breast till the coat-of-mail rattled. Be my conscience!' he said. 'My lord,' said one of the bystanders, 'your conscience is not guid, for I hear it clattering.' When George Wishart was preaching in Ayr, Dunbar, Bishop of Glasgow, who had never before preached, took possession of the pulpit to exclude the reformer, but all he could say was, 'They say we sold prieche. Quhy not? Better late thryve nor never thryve. Haud us still for your bishope, and we sall provide better the next time.'-JOHN KER, History of Preaching, p. 137.

THERE is a fable among the Hindoos that a thief who was condemned to die sent a message to the king, saying that he knew the secret of causing trees to grow which would bear fruit of pure gold, and would reveal it to him if he and his courtiers would accompany him to a certain spot. Being anxious to learn the secret, they did so. After solemn incantations the thief produced a piece of gold, and said, if it were planted it would produce a tree whose branches would bear gold. But it must be planted by a hand that had never done a dishonest act. His own hand not being clean, he passed it on to the king. The king hesitated, however, and said, I remember in my younger days that I filched money from my father's treasury which was not mine. I can hardly say my hand is quite clean. I pass it therefore to my prime minister.' The latter, after a brief consultation, answered, It were a pity to break the charm through a possible blunder. I receive taxes from the people, and how can I be sure that I have been perfectly honest? Let the high priest plant it.' 'No, no,' said the high priest; 'you forget that I have the collecting of the tithes and the disbursements of sacrifice.' At length the thief exclaimed, 'Your Majesty, I think it would be better for society that all four of us should be hanged, since it appears that not an honest man can be

found among us." In spite of the lamentable exposure, the

king laughed, and was so pleased with the thief's cunning expedient, that he pardoned him. - Cassell's Saturday Journal.

forthwith from further consideration. This may be fair enough, if we regard the Baptism narrative as composed by early Jewish disciples of Christ; if later Gentile disciples composed it, the probabilities would again change. But our Own reading of it rests upon the belief that, whether as a simple record, or as an interpretation, Jesus Himself has given us the narrative. If that be true, are we not entitled, yea bound, to emphasize the word? It cannot be for nothing that He who habitually calls God 'Father' feels Himself summoned to His own life-task by the name of 'Son.' Even those who hesitate upon that point will probably admit that the citation of Is 421 is significant of the Christian temper-as we would contend, of that temper manifested in Christ Himself. The Servant of Jehovah is the highest conception reached by the O.T.; while not originally Messianic, it ennobles Messianism when associated with Israel's hope and made its interpreter. Does not that happen precisely here?

With hesitation, and with the caution already given, we take a further step, suggesting that the Messianic consciousness is twofold: positively, the consciousness of sonship to God as the correlative of God's Fatherhood, and, negatively, sinlessness In Thee I am well pleased.'

The first saying on record as having been spoken by Jesus occurs in the narrative of His loss in the temple as a boy: 'Wist ye not that I must be in My Father's house?' It would be a mistake to claim absolute certainty for an interesting anecdote of this kind, recorded as it is by only one of our authorities. Still, we must work with such materials as we have; and, without laying undue stress upon it, we may look at what it suggests. In the first place, the word rises to the boy's lips as if by instinct, My Father.' In the second place, we have the assertion of an abiding Divine necessity and high calling 'I must be in My Father's house.' The meaning is not perfectly clear, but we might possibly explain it by a reference to Ps 27: One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I may dwell all my days in the house of the Lord.' In the Psalm, indeed, what is spoken of seems to be a privilege, and, in the Gospel passage, an obligation; but that difference may perhaps be set aside. The third point we note is the necessity by which this wonderful child thrusts away the visions that have come upon Him, and, in spite of His own 'I must,' returns to Nazareth

and to earthly obedience. One need not labour the point that such obedience was, for the time, the truest fulfilment of the heavenly calling, and the best preparation for its more direct service in after days. Nevertheless, the closing down of life upon an ardent spirit, almost launched on a career of public service, must mean grave trial; that too is taught us, if we regard the narrative as historical. Some such experience might explain Christ's lingering till the age of thirty-if He had heard the call before, and if He had encountered another necessity, not less Divine than the call itself, which pushed back indefinitely the act of outward obedience to the call.

In this interval of eighteen years we can hardly err in supposing that the youthful Jesus led an isolated and lonely life. In after days we find Him peculiarly sensitive to female friendshipvery peculiarly dependent on it, we may affirm, if measured by the standards of Judea and of eighteen centuries ago. Without sentimentality, therefore, one may allow oneself to conclude that the mother of our Lord was a great resource to Him in mitigation of this solitude. In her we may assume that He found sympathy, partial indeed and inadequate, yet less inadequate than elsewhere— that, till His hour came, she stood as far as she might between Him and the world, deadening its shocks-that, like others of this earth's great men, Jesus was conscious of peculiar sympathies with her who bore Him. In a different direction-in the mutual love of youth and maiden-we know that Jesus never allowed Himself to feel the charm of womanhood. We know this, not only from postulates or deductions of ours, but from the words of one of His own pointed sayings: 'There be eunuchs which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake.' It is possible to exaggerate the universality of marriage among the Jewish race. Marriage had been forbidden to Jeremiah; it remains very doubtful whether Saul of Tarsus had ever married; there was John the Baptist; there was Jesus Himself. Yet marriage was so much the normal fulfilment not of inclination merely but of duty in Israel-and in all the ancient world-that Jesus might well convey to His disciples as new truth the conception of a moral vocation which, under certain circumstances, made celibacy the higher law. His own life and the Baptist's, among so many differences, agreed in this. 'There be eunuchs which have made