er conjured up out of its imagination.

The Rev. R. F. Horton, in his answer to my question as to the need of
Christ as a Saviour, uttered the following remarkable words:

But there is a holiness so transcendent that the angels veil
their faces in the presence of God. I have known a good many
men who have rejected Christ, and men who are living without
Him, and, though God forbid that I should judge them, I do not
know one of them whom I would venture to take as my example if
I wished to appear in the presence of the holy God. They do
not tremble for themselves, but I tremble for myself if my
holiness is not to exceed that of such Scribes and Pharisees.
Oh, my brothers, where Christ is talking of holiness He is
talking of such a goodness, such a purity, such a transcendent
and miraculous likeness of God in human form, that I believe
it is true to say that there is but one name, as there is but
one way, by which a man can be holy and come into the presence
of God; and I look, therefore, upon this word of Christ not
only as the way of salvation, but as the revelation of the
holiness which God demands.

I close these answers to the questions with a practical word
to everyone that is here. It is my belief that you may be
good enough to pass through the grave and to wander in the
dark spaces of the world which is still earthly and sensual,
and you may be good enough to escape, as it were, the torments
of the hell which result from a life of debauchery and cruelty
and selfishness; but if you are to stand in the presence of God,
if you are ever to be pure, complete, and glad, "all rapture
through and through in God's most holy sight," you must believe
in the name and in the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, the
only begotten son of God, who came into the world to save
sinners, and than whose no other name is given in heaven or
earth whereby we may be saved.

Such talk as that makes me feel ill. Here is a cultured, educated,
earnest man rhapsodising about holiness and the glory of a God no mortal
eye has ever seen, and of whom no word has ever reached us across the
gulf of death. And while he rhapsodised, with a congregation of honest
bread-and-butter citizens under him, trying hard with their blinkered
eyes and blunted souls, to glimpse that imaginary glamour of ecstatic
"holine