d Himself not in whirlwind nor earthquake nor
lightning. He doubtless felt at home among these tempestuous outbreaks.
They suit his temper. But something startlingly new came to him in that
exquisite "sound of gentle stillness," hushing, awing, mellowing, giving
a new conception of the dominant heart of his God. Some of us might well
drop things, and take a run down to Horeb.

I know an earnest scholarly minister with strong personality, and
fearless in his preaching against sin, but who seems to lack this spirit
of love. He is so cuttingly critical at times. The other ministers of
his town whom he might easily lead, shy off from him. There is no
magnetism in the edge of a razor. His critical spirit can be felt when
his lips are shut. I recall a woman, earnest, winsome when she chooses
to be, an intelligent Bible student, keen-scented for error, a generous
giver, but what a sharp edge her tongue has. One is afraid to get close
lest it may cut.

When the Holy Spirit takes possession there is _love_, aye, more, a
_flood_ of love. Have you ever seen a flood? I remember one in the
Schuylkill during my boyhood days and how it impressed me. Those who
live along the valley of that treacherous mountain stream, the Ohio,
know something of the power of a flood. How the waters come rushing
down, cutting out new channels, washing down rubbish, tearing valuable
property from its moorings, ruling the valley autocratically while men
stand back entirely helpless.

Would you care to have a flood-tide of love flush the channelways of
your life like that? It would clean out something you have preferred
keeping. It would with quiet, ruthless strength, tear some prized
possessions from their moorings and send them adrift down stream and
out. Its high waters would put out some of the fires on the lower
levels. Better think a bit before opening the sluice-ways for that
flood. But ah! it will sweeten and make fragrant. It will cut new
channels, and broaden and deepen old ones. And what a harvest will
follow in its wake. Floods are apt to do peculiar things. So does this
one. It washes out the friction-grit from between the wheels. It does
not dull the edge of the tongue, but washes the bitter out of the mouth,
and the green out of the eye. It leaves one deaf and blind in some
matters, but much keener-sighted and quicker-eared in others. Strange
flood that! Would that we all knew more of it.

The Fullness of the Stature of a Man.

Now n