(continued from p. 106.)

Another expression, not duly considered in our last article, now demands our attention before we turn to the grand titles in which our Lord is presented to us and which He has clothed in the beauty of the Name that is above every name. It is the phrase "of our confession." This, at first thought, seems, as if not belonging there, almost to thrust itself between Him and the offices that He has glorified as Apostle and High Priest. It is a further stirring reason for our yielding ourselves to the strong persuasion of the apostle.

The Revised Version translates "our confession," while the Authorized Version reads "our profession." The former has a religious turn to it, while the latter is now of a somewhat more secular character. It will not be out of place for us to dwell on the distinction for a moment, for it suggests to us the constant conflict in our experience between these two demands upon us. We were all very much interested recently to see the victorious conclusion of just such a struggle (if indeed it may be called that) in the work of one of our medical missionaries to Africa. His professional duties were interfering somewhat with his still more important confessional duties, but with the higher calling ringing loud within his heart, he plunged deeper into the Dark Continent, so that profession and confession might unite in a still truer service to God and man. Just as the strength of our blessed Lord's life, the Great Physician's, was manifested in His communion with God, so the strength of our "confession" must be in communion with Him, if that "confession" is to have the upper hand in our lives. And this is the appeal of its intrusion into the Apostle's exhortation.

I have read that gardeners in Holland sometimes plant a common rosebush alongside one of superlative beauty and fragrance. They then watch the bush, and when sufficiently developed, carefully trim off the anthers of the flowers to prevent self-pollenization. In this way the common rose is fertilized from its beautiful neighbor, and gradually gathers to itself many of its superlative characteristics. It is transformed by the company that it keeps. So it is that we, in company with the Lord, dwelling on His glories and virtues, are changed, and both life and confession unite in harmonious acknowledgment of Him who is the Glory.

The two titles here accorded our Lord are very beautifully associated with one another. The first, "Apostle," is peculiarly a New Testament title, as the second is an Old Testament one. Moreover the root signification of the word "apostle" is one sent forth, while an Old Testament word for "priest" signifies "one who draws nigh," and this truly epitomizes his office as given us in the Epistle to the Hebrews. The two words thus comprehend in a remarkable manner the entire mission of our blessed Lord. Each of them is a noble document of God's purpose in Christ, fresh from the heavenly archives, and spread before us as a consummate revelation of His glory. He was sent forth by the Father into this world and He has returned to the Father, and now is ever living to make intercession for us.

"One sent forth." So highly did our Saviour honor His divine commission that He speaks of Himself as the "One sent from the Father" six times in the wonderful prayer of the seventeenth of John, three times in connection with His disciples and three times with the world.

The one who leaned on His bosom, moreover, and who was privileged to reveal so many of its precious secrets to us, has gathered together into three magnificent "declarations" the wonderful story of the "Sent One." "Herein is love, not that we loved god but that He loved us, and sent His son to be the propitiation for our sins;" "The Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world:" "God sent not His Son to condemn the world but (far from it) that the world through Him might be saved." Oh, how deep and strong was that love! How broad and all inclusive the commission! How grand the purpose! How glorious our Apostle!

The word "apostle," then, is very similar to the word missionary, and it sometimes is profitable to put the word missionary in its place; it has such a delightful connotation in the Church's history.

There is a picture gallery in Plainfield, N. J., in which there used to hang a picture of all the great Church Reformers gathered in groups before a church something in appearance like the Madeleine in Paris. Somehow the lives of these men seem to have crept into their faces (or is that only my imagination?) and it would have been quite worth while to have sat down before it to enjoy their company and drink in the inspiration of their lives. We cannot do that, however, so let us keep company instead with a few of the great Missionaries of our Lord and see how His life, who in missionary work also was the first, shone out through theirs.

Picture No. 1 is that of David Livingstone, the great African pioneer, who blazed a broad trail through the heart of the Dark Continent that others might follow with the gladsome message of eternal life for dying men. An Apostle of Science, following along that same trail wrote of him:"Wherever you run across the footsteps of David Livingstone in Africa, there lingers the fragrance of his memory." Is its any wonder, when we remember that life was modeled on words that he once uttered?-"I will place no value on anything I have, or may possess, except in its relation to the Kingdom of Christ. If anything I have will advance the interests of that kingdom, it shall be given up or kept, as by keeping or giving up I shall most promote the glory of Him to whom I owe all my hopes for time and eternity."

And how great the distance David Livingstone's Forerunner traveled when He came "From the palace of His glory From His home of joy and love," to tread a path of rejection, leading to the "bitter Cross." And from whom was the principle of Livingstone's life derived but from Christ, "who for our sakes became poor that we through His poverty might be made rich?" And if David Livingstone's last plea from the lonely hut in Africa where he died, was for others to "come and heal the open sore of the world," was not our Lord's last message to His own:"Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature," just as He Himself had come "and preached peace to them that were afar off and them that were nigh?"

The next picture is that of Robert Moffat, a valiant soldier of Jesus Christ, rugged and strong, yet with "a heart tender as any woman's," Missioner to the southern portion of the same continent and carrying the same grand old story. How bravely he marched alone into the village of the cruel Afrikander, against the urgent warning of his friends, and there reasoned with him of righteousness and judgment to come, confronting him with his many black crimes and wickedness! And it is not long before Afrikander is kneeling beside his worst enemy, both together supplicating mercy of the Friend :Publicans and Sinners.

And how nobly courageous was our First Missionary, as He denounced the cities wherein so many of His mighty works of loving-kindness had been wrought! How fine was His intrepidity as He withered the Pharisaic spirit with His holy scorn; how noble the resolution with which He set His face as a flint to go up to Jerusalem, there to be crucified! Frederic Arnot, a second Living-stone in the pioneer work that he performed, marching inland towards Garenganze, was frequently assailed with stories that King Msidi had planted a sharp stake in his palace yard on which he had threatened to impale his prospective visitor. Yet if Frederic Arnot advanced ever bravely towards this very uncomfortable uncertainty, our First Missionary, just within sight of snowy Hermon, on which He had been glorified, "began to show unto His disciples how that He must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed." And so He endured the Cross despising the shame. It was just that for which He had come.

We turn next to James Hannington, Bishop of Central Africa. What a dauntless spirit, what loyal devotion, what indefatigable perseverance, what a joyful good cheer he manifested in the most trying circumstances. Stricken with African fever, so that he could not walk, he was carried by his devoted followers through many and many miles of dense, unhealthy jungle or open country, gasping and utterly weary. "Massa will surely die, but how is it that Massa is so happy?" cried those same followers. And die he did later, not indeed of the fever. but slain by the spears of the King of Uganda's soldiers. What a magnificent message he sent his murderer:"Go, tell Wanga I die for the Baganda, and that I have purchased the road into Uganda with my blood." "How could they know what he said?" remarked a friend once, and I answered:"How could it be possible that his murderers should ever forget it?" Nay, such a message shall never die.

But where did James Hannington get the inspiration of those fine words but from our First Missionary, who as they crucified Him cried:"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?" And to whom was he like a cheerful spirit, but to Him who, lonely and forsaken, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, sent down through the ages to all the weary and brokenhearted these stirring words:"In the world ye shall have tribulation; be of good cheer; / have overcome the world." "Fear not, little flock, it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." And as we think of it all, shall we not remember the same apostle's further exhortation:"For consider Him that endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself, lest ye be wearied, and faint in your minds." F. C. Grant