Or take the instance of a physician finding words for physical feelings, because he understands them better than the patient who is unable to express them. In the same way the early Christians, being the subjects of new, deep, and spiritual feeling, declared their joy, their aspiration, their ecstatic devotion, in inarticulate utterances. They felt truths, which were just as true and deep to them as when articulately expressed. But the drawing out of those emotions into words, the explaining what they felt, and what their hurried, huddled words unconsciously meant, that was the office of the interpreter. For example, a stranger might have been at a loss to know what was really meant. "Are you happy or miserable, O Christian, by those wild utterances? Is it madness, or new wine, or inspiration ?" And none but a person in the same mood of mind, or one who had passed through that mood and understood it by the unerring tact of sympathy could say to the stranger, "This is the overflow of gratefulness: he is blessing in the Spirit: it is a hymn of joy that his heart is singing to itself;" or, "It is a burst of prayer." And therefore St. Paul writes the 15th, 16th, and 17th verses, which contain the very points I have mentioned, "praying," "singing," "blessing," and "giving of thanks." It seems to me that the early Christians were the subjects of feelings too deep to be put into words.

LECTURE XXVII.

I CORINTHIANS, xiv. 25-40.—May 9, 1852.

́E were occupied last Sunday in endeavouring to ascer

WE

tain merely what the gifts of prophecy and tongues were. Prophecy we found to be in its essence the faculty of comforting, exhorting, &c. by spiritual truths addressed to the understanding. The prophet had the gift of insight, and also the power of explaining the meaning of truth. Collecting the information scattered through the chapter respecting "Tongues," we found that while under their influence men spoke incoherently and unintelligibly,-ver. 2; in a soliloquy edifying self, -ver. 4; they are compared with the sound of inarticulate musical instruments,-ver. 7; to barbarian tongues,—ver. II; to ravings of insanity,-ver. 23; as capable of interpretation by persons spiritually gifted, in spite of their incoherency and inarticulateness, ver. 13.

Putting all this together, we concluded that new intense. feelings from the Holy Spirit were uttered incoherently, not in some foreign language, but in each man's own language, in broken sentences, which were unintelligible to all, except to those who, by sympathy and a corresponding spiritual state, were able to interpret, and say whether they expressed unutterable joy or blessing, or giving thanks, or devotion.

In like manner we saw that the sound of the Alpine horn, the awkward attempts of a child, when affected by a moving anecdote, to conceal his feelings, boyish joy intoxicated with happiness, though they appear to be meaningless, yet have deep significance for those who are in sympathy with them.

duced "tongues." Hence "tongues" is a plural term, for there were different kinds of utterance by different feelings, innumerable phases of feeling, innumerable modes of utterance.

In the 29th verse, St. Paul gives a direction concerning prophecy, from which we learn that private inspiration was always to be judged by the general inspiration—i. e., it was not to be taken for granted because spoken :-had this simple rule been attended to, how much fanaticism would have been prevented! We must remember that inspiration is one thing, infallibility is another. God the Holy Ghost, as a Sanctifying Spirit, dwells in human beings with partial sin; is it inconceivable that God, the Inspiring Spirit, should dwell with partial error? Did He not do so, He could not dwell with man at all. Therefore, St. Paul says that the spirits of the prophets are to be subject to the prophets. Neglect of this has been a fruitful cause of fanaticism. From the 32nd verse we learn the responsibility attaching to every possessor of gifts; it is a duty to rule-that is, to control-his gift. For inspiration might be abused: this is the great lesson of the passage; the afflatus was not irresistible; a man was not to be borne away by his gift, but to be master of it, and responsible for it. The prophets were not mere trumpets, forced to utter rightly what God said.

The first direction respecting "tongues" was repression of feeling in public. It is plain that what the Apostle dreaded was self-deception and enthusiasm. This state of ecstacy was so pleasurable, and the admiration awarded to it so easy to be procured, that it became the object of anxious pursuit to numbers, who, instead of steady well-doing, spent life in exhibiting intense feeling, or "showing off." Now this, in its essence, is not confined to Christian souls. "Enthusiasm means "possessed by the god "—a heathen word used of the Pythonesses, or of frantic devotees; for there is a bad as well as a fine frenzy. And the camp meetings in America, and the

convulsions of the Ranters, all bear testimony to the same truth how uncontrolled religious feeling may overpower reason and sense-mere natural and animal feeling mingling itself with the movements of Divine life.

There is great danger in ungoverned feeling. There are persons more highly gifted with fine delicate sensibilities than others; they are not moved to action like others, by convictions of the intellect or by a strong sense of duty they can do nothing, except through their affections. All this is very precious, no doubt, if well used: but just in proportion as feelings are strong do they require discipline. The temptation is great to indulge from mere pleasure of indulgence, and from the admiration given to feeling. It is easier to gain credit for goodness by a glistening eye, while listening to some story of self-sacrifice, than by patient usefulness. It is easier to get credit for spirituality by thrilling at some impassioned speech. on the platform, or sermon from the pulpit, than by living a life of justice, mercy, and truth. And hence, religious life degenerates into mere indulgence of feeling, the excitement of religious meetings, or the utterance of strong emotion. In this sickly strife, life wastes away, and the man or woman becomes weak, instead of strong; for invariably utterance weakens feeling.

What a lesson! These divine high feelings, in the Church of Corinth-to what had they degenerated! Loud, tumultuous, disorderly cries; such that a stranger coming in would pronounce of the speakers that they were mad!

The second direction respecting tongues is, "Forbid not to speak with tongues." See the inspired wisdom of the Apostle's teaching! A common man would have said, "All this is wild fanaticism; away with it!" St. Paul said, "It is not all fanaticism: part is true, part is error." The true is God's Spirit; the false is the admixture of human emotion, vanity, and turbid excitement. A similar wise distinction we

find in that expression, "Be not drunk with wine, but be ye filled with the Spirit." He implies there are two kinds of excitement-one pure, one impure; one proceeding from a higher state of being, the other from one lower; which yet resemble each other-intoxication with wine or with spiritual joy; and both are capable of abuse. They are alike in this, that in both the senses and the conscious will may be mastered.

The lesson therefore, from this second requirement, is to learn to sympathize with deep feeling; believe that it has a meaning, though you may not have experienced it. Sympathy is needful in order rightly to understand the higher feelings. There are cold, intellectual men, afraid of enthusiasm, who frown on and forbid every manifestation of feeling: they will talk of the elocution of Isaiah, or the logic of St. Paul, and they think to fathom the meaning of Scripture by grammatical criticism; whereas only the Spirit can interpret the Spirit. You must get into the same region of feeling in which prophets breathe, and then only can you understand them.

The third Apostolic direction is to prefer gifts which are useful to others, rather than those which are brilliant and draw admiration to ourselves. And yet we pique and pride ourselves on gifts which make us unapproachable, and raise us above the crowd of men in solitary superiority. For example: it is a great thing to be an astronomer, reading the laws of the universe; yet an astronomer might be cold, heartless, atheistical, looking down with profound scorn on the vulgar herd. Still, I suppose few would not rather be the astronomer with whose name Europe now rings, than an obscure country surgeon, attending to and soothing the sufferings of peasants; there are few who would not rather be the gifted singer, at whose strains breathless multitudes melt into tears, than some nurse of an hospital, soothing pain, or a Dorcas making garments for the poor. Tell me, which would he have preferred, who, gifted above all other men with inspired wisdom and sublime feelings,