great need of the age we live in. The Church seems to be lying
listless as a sailing ship, due to leave harbour, but still waiting for
a breeze. Her masts are firm, the canvas ready to be stretched, and
her equipment complete. The helmsman stands impatient at the wheel,
and all the sailors are alert, but not a ripple runs along the vessel's
side. She waits, and must wait, for a heavenly breeze to fill her
sails, and till it comes she cannot stir. Like that ship the Church is
wanting impulse, and we ought to be waiting for it, and praying for it.
The power we need can only come from heaven, the breath of God must be
our real moving force, and we should be wiser, stronger, and more
hopeful if we entered into the meaning of the old, oft-repeated verse:

"At anchor laid, remote from home,
Toiling, I cry, 'sweet Spirit, come,'
Celestial breeze no longer stay,
But swell my sails, and speed my way."




BARZILLAI

BY REV. GEORGE MILLIGAN, M.A., D.D.


"There is nothing," says Socrates to Cephalus in the _Republic_, "I
like better than conversing with aged men. For I regard them as
travellers who have gone a journey which I too may have to go, and of
whom it is right to learn the character of the way, whether it is
rugged or difficult, or smooth and easy" (p. 328 E.).