uth which lies at the bottom of
the Romish doctrine of the mass. Rome asserts that in the mass a true
and proper sacrifice is offered up for the sins of all--that the
offering of Christ is for ever repeated. To this Protestantism has
objected vehemently, that there is but one offering once offered--an
objection in itself entirely true; yet the Romish doctrine contains a
truth which it is of importance to disengage from the gross and
material form with which it has been overlaid. Let us hear St. Paul,
"I fill up that which is behindhand of the sufferings of Christ, in my
flesh, for His body's sake, which is the Church." Was there then,
something behindhand of Christ's sufferings remaining uncompleted, of
which the sufferings of Paul could be in any sense the complement? He
says there was. Could the sufferings of Paul for the Church in any
form of correct expression be said to eke out the sufferings that were
complete? In one sense it is true to say that there is one offering
once offered _for_ all. But it is equally true to say that that one
offering is valueless, except so far as it is completed and repeated
in the life and self-offering _of_ all. This is the Christian's
sacrifice. Not mechanically completed in the miserable materialism of
the mass, but spiritually in the life of all in whom the Crucified
lives. The sacrifice of Christ is done over again in every life which
is lived, not to self but, to God.

Let one concluding observation be made--self-denial, self-sacrifice,
self-surrender! Hard doctrines, and impossible! Whereupon, in silent
hours, we sceptically ask, Is this possible? is it natural? Let
preacher and moralist say what they will, I am not here to sacrifice
myself for others. God sent me here for happiness, not misery. Now
introduce one sentence of this text of which we have as yet said
nothing, and the dark doctrine becomes illuminated--"the _love_ of
Christ constraineth us." Self-denial, for the sake of self-denial,
does no good; self-sacrifice for its own sake is no religious act at
all. If you give up a meal for the sake of showing power over self, or
for the sake of self-discipline, it is the most miserable of all
delusions. You are not more religious in doing this than before. This
is mere self-culture, and self-culture being occupied for ever about
self, leaves you only in that circle of self from which religion is to
free you; but to give up a meal that one y