There is another thought which encourages us, and makes us hope that these same “elements we have to work upon,” and which appear to make our congregations incapable of accomplishing the high and holy destinies in the world to which we think they are called.  It is this:  that just as there are in nature hidden forces—­in a quiet and apparently harmless cask of gunpowder, or electric battery, for instance—­which lie concealed until the right spark calls forth their latent power into action, so there are, in many more individuals than we suspect, hidden forces of some kind or other capable of doing greater things than we could ever have anticipated, and which require only the right spark of spiritual life and energy to excite them also into vigorous action.  It is thus that heroic bravery and sublime self-sacrifice have been manifested in the hour of sudden and appalling danger, or during seasons of long and dreadful suffering, by those who were never until then suspected of possessing so great a spirit, and who, but for such an occasion occurring for its manifestation, might have been doomed for ever to remain helplessly among the most commonplace incapables.  Had a Grace Darling or a Florence Nightingale been known only as a sitter or pewholder in a congregation, they might have been deemed unfit for any work requiring courage, self-sacrifice, or perseverance.  But these noble qualities were all the while in them.  In like manner, have we never seen among our working classes a man excited by some religious enthusiast or fanatical Mormonite, who all at once seemed inspired with new powers, braved the sneers of companions, consented to be dipped in the next river, turned his small stock of supposed knowledge into immediate use, exhorted, warned, proselytised among his neighbours, spoke in the lanes and streets unabashed, and gathered his knot of disciples from among the crowd of his old comrades, thus giving token of a force having been lying hid in one who seemed capable only of work on week-days and of sleep on Sundays.  There is not a Hindu fakir, who swings from a hook in the muscles of his back, or measures with his body a long pilgrimage to Juggernaut; not a Popish devotee, who braves the opinion of society with naked feet, comical garment, and self-imposed “bodily exercise,” but demonstrates what a man can and will do, if the mainspring of his being is touched.  There is not a sailor or soldier who does not, at sea or in battle, shew a greatness which he seems incapable of when seen in ordinary circumstances.  It is thus, we repeat it, that most undoubtedly there are, in every congregation, men and women who have in them great powers of some kind, which have been given them by God, and which, though lying dormant, are capable of being brought out, in a greater or less degree, by fitting causes.  Nay, every man is enriched with some talent or gift—­if we would only discover it and bring it into action—­which, if educated and properly directed, is capable of enriching