THE K I N G ’ S B US I NE S S veritably nothing but husks to offer the unregenerate hearts of sinful men. The incontrovertible evidence of this is everywhere manifest today. According tp the teaching received by its future preachers will be the spiritual pabulum dispensed to the pew. What of the future? The writer desires to pay high tribute to Methodism’s many Spirit-filled men who fearlessly preach the whole gospel; who refuse to preach an emasculated gospel of only a human Christ, and Scriptures, shorn, even in part, of their inspiration. There is a noble army of such and their ministry is invariably fruitful. A young man reared in a Christian home well-known to the writer, recently sought his fortune in a metropolis of the East. He visited its churches, and heard many able preachers, but was but slightly influenced till he came under the preaching of a man who has turned many to righteousness, and deepened the spiritual life of many more. He found this church crowded at each serv ice, with many of the nation’s most prominent citizens present. To his mother this youth wrote: “ Why, mother, M r.---------- just preaches Jesus Christ.” This man, like Paul of old, had “ deter mined not to know anything save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.” Why have I withdrawn from the Methodist Episcopal church? In the last analysis tire church has withdrawn from me—and many thousands of others who believe, “ Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ,” “ the same, yesterday, today and forever.” EVANGELISM FOR THE TIMES It is an unspeakable comfort to rea lize that over against the religion that is only up-to-date, there is another that is dateless, like its Author, “ the same yesterday, today and forever,” one
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which had its place in the heart of God before the morning stars sang together and will be cherished there when the planets are borne out to their sepulcher along the dusty road where once blazed the milky way. The terrible things that destroy the soul have not changed, no new sin has been discovered, and, alas, no old ones have gone out of fash ion. Death is the same now as when Cain looked into the face of his mur dered brother. Sin is the same awful thing which broke the heart of Adam, of Edipus, and of Esau, and its shame is no other than that which Samson felt when, blind and in prison, he ground the grists of the Philistines. Are we not also comforted to sing: O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home. - We call Him the God of our fathers, and we love to think that He will also be the God of our children, and insist that He is also our God. .If religion is after all a matter of style and the robe of righteousness liable any day to go out of fashion, in what shall I dress my soul? If I have to wait at the door of the professor who is most up-to-date to find what Gospel I can preach or what Gospel I can live, how sad is my estate, for alas, styles differ as much in theology as in the Bon Marché! Who can tell me what will fit me, and who is final au thority on what is antiquated? May I still long for the holy comfort which has been folded down on weary hearts for long ages? May I still long to have my name written in that book whose pages turn not yellow with the passing years, the golden book wherein are written in all ages the names o f those who have feared God and kept their trysts with Him?— Chas L. Goodell
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