Our Lord's mission is divided into two marked periods, the period of failure and the period of success. He failed in all his attempts to interest the rulers and leaders of the Jews in his doctrine. He then appealed to the people, and Christianity became democratic. The appeal to the people was successful, and the world was saved. If Christ had wished to found a Christology instead of a theology, we should discover it in his teachings. In the appeals of Christ to the rulers, he waives every personal claim to recognition: it is never himself, but the Father, that is brought forward. His steady effort is to show, not only that his Father has sent him, but that the Father is with him. Turning to his appeals to the people, we find, that, with a single exception (in the case of John in prison), nobody ever asked him his authority. But he always puts forward his divine mission. That the spirit of the Lord is upon him, is his constant theme: it is the Father that does the work. "I cannot help you," he reiterates: "the Holy Ghost alone can help you." And he sends out his disciples, not to proclaim his own advent, but to preach, "The kingdom of God is at hand:" and wherever, since that time, religion has been successfully carried, it has been by preaching the immediate, the absolute presence of God; God here, here now.

When he announces his death, it is, "I go away, that the Spirit may come." Thus do the Gospels illustrate the great, almost painful, self-denial expressed in the text. On the broadest scale, his life echoed it: we see it at Zion, at Lebanon, at Calvary. He always forgets himself, that he may assert the present Spirit, the present kingdom. So false is the gloss that supposes that he went about offering himself as the Christ, or talking of himself at all. Like his Father, he leaves it for his works to proclaim him.

Does this seem a bold or old statement? Not till the Holy Spirit speaks to you can you know what your Saviour is, or what he said. Not till the Comforter comes to you, can you know the truth or the joy of the Master or his glory. We twist our wretched metaphors to find out how Christ comes in God, and God in him: never shall we know it till we accept the symbol that he gave. Never, till we are united to Christ

by the Holy Spirit, shall we begin to comprehend the union of the Father with his beloved Son.

Mr. FROTHINGHAM'S SERMON was from the text in 1 Tim. v. 8:

"If any man provide not for his own, especially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel."

After an analytical introduction, the preacher announced as his theme, "Natural Religion,-its Creed, its Purpose, and its Life."

The text asserts that an infidel is one who does not provide for his own household. Faith must, in that age, have been in a very rudimentary state. The simple-minded apostle says the infidel is he who does not provide for his own household. At that day, indeed, men attached a secondary importance to believing indeed, their believing grew mainly out of their living.

Christianity is the natural religion of man; and its characteristic doctrine is therefore the brotherhood of humanity. This is what Christ illustrated and consecrated in his life. This gave point to every precept. It was an entirely original faith then, and it is an original faith still. This is the great mystery, deeper than the mystery of the Trinity, the mystery of the divinity in man, -that there is a ground of sympathy between man and God. What a mystery it must have been in that age! People then had no conception of a common humanity: a God incarnated in a human soul was then a thing inconceivable. Every enormity was then commonly committed, and the closest ties of kindred did not prevent the grossest cruelties. The barbarism of those times was illustrated by many historical instances of fiendish cruelty. After the life of Herod, the life of Jesus must have been the mystery of the world; and it is not strange that the disciples of Jesus should have held, that to believe in that was the great test of fidelity to the Master.

As late as the fifteenth century, infidelity meant unfaithfulness, not unbelief. Not till the seventeenth century did it come to mean unbelief of certain doctrines. How came this change of meaning, this divorce of faith from life? How

comes it about that Paul's maxim has been so reversed as to read, "He that denies the faith is worse than him that provides not for his own household, worse than a thief or a robber"? It was because the early Christians suffered for their beliefs. After the age of persecution, life became calm again; but there stand the beliefs, with all the precious sanctities clinging to them, all marked with the blood of martyrdom, and fragrant with the odors of worship. It became a matter of honor to hold to those beliefs, even after their vitality was gone, and men were living upon other beliefs.

Disbelief has been called infidelity, because there has been a time when it was infidelity, when it was disloyalty. When the time has passed, to keep up the distinction is to misuse words. The ring of Saturn is supposed to be the old crust of the planet, thrown off in the process of cooling. The ring was once a part of the star: now it is some thousands of miles away from it, makes no part of it, perhaps embarrasses its motion. So humanity has revolving about it vast beliefs which have been thrown off, all aglow by the spirit of God: they were once a part of our substance, and took up a place in our souls. But our life has been becoming more compact within itself; and now, miles and miles from us, revolve about us those numerous fragments of our former life. If we try to establish the old intimacy, we but waste our time and strength; for the chasm between us and them will constantly widen. This is the confusing fact of our, times, the separation of our beliefs from our daily life. One day in a week, we venerate symbols we do not comprehend, and repeat creeds we do not believe. Sunday is separated from Monday by the diameter of the globe. Sunday we spend with Cyril and Athanasius; Monday, with Ericsson and his works. Sunday is without an object; and Monday, without a subject. Sunday we have no existence, and Monday we have no being. Sunday, no body; and Monday, no soul. Sunday, no earth; and Monday, no heaven. Sunday, no world; and Monday, no God. Our faith is in Jerusalem; our being, in New York.

It does seem sometimes that men must bear the imputation of infidelity in order not to be infidels. Faith means fidelity to

the convictions of the heart: infidelity is unfaithfulness to our sincere convictions. Life must take the initiative; first the inner life, the Christ within. This is the last effort and result of the creative energy. This is the only Holy Spirit we know. What we experience we alone know. We must commune intimately with humanity, or we cannot commune with God. To escape from infidelity in this age is to bring back the old fidelity. The faith in the indwelling God which Jesus spoke of,

this is the natural and human religion. This religion exhausts fidelity: it gives full occupation to all the energies and to all the power of the will. It has a theology, a philosophy, an art, of its own; and it will soon have an architecture of its own. Its notion of faith is fidelity to the soul; of infidelity, unfaithfulness to the soul. There are no such prayers as are breathed from its devotees; there is no such trust as braces the wills of its heroes. To escape from infidelity in this age, one must accept the beliefs of his age. The vital beliefs of our age are beliefs in nature, natural laws, natural science, natural worship. The question we are discussing is vital to the day and the hour. Like the painters of the pre-Raphaelite school, we must first copy literally the facts of life as they are. Having done that, we may give sway to imagination, as did Raphael himself, and attempt to conceive and delineate the forms of the absolute and eternal.

MEETINGS FOR CONFERENCE AND PRAYER

were held Wednesday and Thursday mornings, at eight o'clock. They were well attended, and were generally pervaded by an earnest, serious spirit. They lacked, however, as our Conference-meetings, both in May and October, are apt to lack, that freshness and warmth of devotion so noticeable in the morning assemblies of the Western Conference.

From some cause, probably too great reticence on the part of the more thoughtful speakers, a considerable portion of time is unprofitably consumed in wandering talk about the "deep things of the spirit," or in mere iteration

of undisputed and uninspiring truths; and the hours are consequently less quickening and helpful than they might become, if the exercises were characterized by greater condensation of thought, pervaded with a more vital experience, and of more direct, personal, and practical application.

Doubtless the most stimulative and suggestive exercises of the Convention were

THE DISCUSSIONS.

The first of these took place on Wednesday morning, and was introduced by the reading of an essay by CHARLES ELIOT NORTON, Esq., of Cambridge, upon "American Ideas applied to Religion and Politics." Mr. Norton said,

The liberal Christian is a liberal in politics. The man who is an American, not merely by birth, but by confidence in American principles, is necessarily a liberal Christian. The peculiarity of Unitarianism is, that it is not a sect, but a protest against sectarianism. It is the only religious body that represents the genius of republican institutions. The opening Declaration of Independence is not only a political, but a religious doctrine; and nothing but a falling-away from this idea has brought danger upon the State. We owe a debt of gratitude to the fathers for the religious faith which they combined with their politics. But their religion was the thing of a class: they had hardly any conception of the true idea of Christianity, the brotherhood of the race. Now religion and politics have entered upon the same course, and both seek the freedom of the human soul. To the Church universal, all men are equal, and all possess inalienable rights. The gospel of Christ is the gospel of democracy. It is not a gospel for any chosen people: it is the gospel for the poor. "The hour cometh :" it has not yet come. The Christianity of the churches has been a religion of exclusiveness. We reject all ecclesiastical claims to power. The history of the churches is a history of error and usurpation,