think of congregations becoming, as a whole, and in
spite of many exceptions, living bodies of Christians--men united for
mutual good and for the good of the world--do we not thereby assume
that it is vain to expect professing Christians to become "constrained
by the love of Christ not to live to themselves, but to Him who died
for them and rose again?" Must we confess it to be utterly hopeless to
look for such manifestations now of the power of the Spirit as will
produce, in our cities and parishes, such congregations, ay, and far
better ones, as once existed in Jerusalem, Ephesus, or Philippi?

There is another thought which encourages us, and makes us hope that
these same "elements we have to work upon," and which appear to
make our congregations incapable of accomplishing the high and holy
destinies in the world to which we think they are called. It is
this: that just as there are in nature hidden forces--in a quiet
and apparently harmless cask of gunpowder, or electric battery, for
instance--which lie concealed until the right spark calls forth their
latent power into action, so there are, in many more individuals than
we suspect, hidden forces of some kind or other capable of doing
greater things than we could ever have anticipated, and which require
only the right spark of spiritual life and energy to excite them also
into vigorous action. It is thus that heroic bravery and sublime
self-sacrifice have been manifested in the hour of sudden and
appalling danger, or during seasons of long and dreadful suffering,
by those who were never until then suspected of possessing so great
a spirit, and who, but for such an occasion occurring for its
manifestation, might have been doomed for ever to remain helplessly
among the most commonplace incapables. Had a Grace Darling or a
Florence Nightingale been known only as a sitter or pewholder in a
congregation, they might have been deemed unfit for any work requiring
courage, self-sacrifice, or perseverance. But these noble qualities
were all the while in them. In like manner, have we never seen among
our working classes a man excited by some religious enthusiast or
fanatical Mormonite, who all at once seemed inspired with new powers,
braved the sneers of companions, consented to be dipped in the next
river, turned his small stock of supposed knowledge into immediate
use, exhorted, warned, proselytised among his neighbours, spoke in the
lanes and streets unabashed, and gathered