bubble burst, every atom is only hidden, never lost.

The practical difficulty which meets men of believing tendencies and devout affections is the apparent distance of this mysterious sphere from human perception. We see, they may say, the system of nature. By day, the sun is out in fulness of splendor, and the numberless forms of earth dwell amidst its beams. By night, the moonlight calms the air and sky, and sleeps on field or forest or water, and stars stand out, indicating worlds upon worlds. But the sphere of spirit! We see no such thing; no sun, no moon, no star, no earth or sea. We try to look upon it; only one immense void, one everlasting abyss, meets our asking eye. It is as when we stretch our sight from the deck of a ship in mid-ocean; nothing meets it but empty sky and sea; nay, more, the void is such as we might dream if sea had no surface or form, sky no circle or color, an infinite vacuity. When such doubt comes over us, let us gather our thoughts and examine the case, how it really is. If to the mind opened only on the side of the world, nature seems nearest and most real, yet to the mind once opened fully on the side of the spiritual realm, spirit becomes nearest and most real. The world, no longer all or continent of all, becomes a transparent medium of the crea

tive light which contains, encircles, penetrates, the whole. But the power itself, the everlasting substance, of both the seen and the unseen, is always invisible. The very tree there on the hill-side, red with the gorgeous hues of this rich autumn, who can tell those elements and powers combined, away from all perception of the five senses, which have worked through it so many years, through such changes of season, to bring it where it is now,-to constitute its very nature, to be the essence and ground of its growth and its whole form? That one red leaf, who can describe its internal history from the first green through summer to this bright October? The question goes deeper than the senses, and leaves the naturalist pursuing an entirely different course of observations. It suggests to us, that, after all, we know, we perceive of even the tree merely certain appearances within the compass of sense, not the mystery which makes it what it is, which lives and grows through it. But as much as this we are able to know, and the enlightened mind does know, of the grander, the pervading, creative mystery, the appearances, the developments, the fruit, as the Apostle terms it, of the spirit, its natural growth into the order of life and action,—love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance. As really as the fruit of au

tumn expresses the power working into the processes of nature, so really virtue reveals and bodies forth the power working through the greater processes of spirit.

So much it seemed necessary to say, preliminary to our entrance on this last division of our topic. When we contemplate the person in himself and his relations to the material order, we scarce think of doubt; man is here with his wants, of which the greatest is Divine comfort. When from the person we go forth to contemplate society through its several relations, we have no more doubt: the wants are felt at once, happy when the supply comes in the presence of God. So far a childlike trust goes with us. The Church meets us as threshold, nay, more than this, in its whole significance, as temple itself, for worship in another form. An hour may come, to some it comes inevitably, when either the Divine consolation must die from their hearts, or another channel must be opened for it, another sphere revealed into which the soul enters, thenceforth seeing the presence of which it had earlier heard and accepted the tradition. We stand as yet but at the entrance. The realm of spirit spreads out to infinitude. The shrine of its worship expands and ascends and shines out to the opening eye brighter and higher than the sun. The Deep is before us;

and though no dark inscription repels us from the gateway, no hopeless sorrows threaten us if we dare to pass within, yet nowhere more than here, and through this entire process of the Regeneration, do we need at every step the strength and guidance from above. We are still partakers of the earthly nature, souls living in the form of the first man: and such as he, so weak, so ignorant, so sinful, we must essay to know and interpret the characters of the Lord from heaven. If so far we have striven to follow the Divine voice in our earthly relations, now that the quickening spirit is revealed, we are to strive, deeper within the new mystery, to pass into its own higher sphere, obedient to the greater word which it speaks, alive with the purer inspiration which it breathes through heaven and earth.

Let the celestial life of Jesus furnish the perfect symbol.

CHAPTER I.

LIFE FROM THE SPIRIT.

Behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife; for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name Jesus: for he shall save his people from their sins. Now all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Behold, the virgin shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel; which, being interpreted is, God with us. MATT.

i. 20-23.

THUS the sphere of spirit descends into the realm of nature. The celestial inspiration quickens the second man, inbreathing the virtue through which he is destined to appear as the Lord from heaven. The Divine birth at once reveals the Father, introduces the Son into the world, and opens in him a higher and spiritual order of humanity.

The narrative has been so generally received in Christendom as statement of the literal fact, that we might pass over any reference to the questions which have been suggested. There is some reason, however, for alluding to them, chiefly to take occasion for presenting another