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HERALDS OF GOD distrusted God for half a lifetime of prayerless years, and then to be told that He cares intensely, and that the way to His heart lies open now; to have felt utterly inadequate for life's demands and for the wear and tear of worrying days, and then to learn of vast incalculable reserves of power just waiting to be used; to have had nothing to look forward to but the snapping of the ties that matter most, and then to find that death has ceased to count, because victory and immortality belong to love—this is the glorious news, too often, alas, made dull and commonplace by our poor bungling, and desupernaturalised by our stolidity and ineptitude.

Suppose the apostles were to come back to earth to-day, and watch us at our weekly worship. Would they recognize the religion in whose dawn they had found it such bliss to be alive? Might they not have to say, "What has happened? Is this the faith that once stirred the world like a thousand trumpets? Is this the miraculous religion that burnt us with its flame? How can these our descendants repeat with the chill of lackadaisical boredom words that once awakened the dead? 'God was incarnate': can they say that, and not be thrilled and dazzled by the amazement of it? 'The Son of God was crucified, dead, and buried': can they think of that and not be overwhelmed by its awful meaning? 'Christ is risen': can they tell that, and not want to shout for the glory of it? Why have they allowed these breathlessly exciting facts to be written in the dull catalogue of common things and 44