places, and the outward world. The closest reverie is full of these. The mystic's self-communion has to express itself in metaphors of things physical. St. Theresa, in her dreams and raptures, uses the language of a voluptuary. Wesley, on his knees, brings the pictures of the street and the church and the home into his supplications for his soul. Memory is a spiritual act, and we hope to take memory with us when we go out of the world; without that, immortality vanishes, and the life to come will be a new creation. But what is memory but the summoning and use of sensible experiences? What can we remember except things, events, works, in which this body of ours, these senses of ours, have borne part; things which we have seen or read with our eyes, have heard with our ears, have spoken, or have wrought? Memory is fastened to the physical life; the soul's history, as it is reviewed, is always marked by epochs in time, which is a physical condition. We do not remember a man's character, but only the acts by which we judged his character. We do not remember a mother's love, but only the times and seasons and ways in which that love was proved. This interior and most spiritual process, after all, which shall endure when the soul drops. its mortal vesture, can only take the materials which the outward life has provided for its use. It is only a panorama of physical life that memory sets in motion.

And this is equally true of the anticipations of the soul, of what it looks forward to in the heavenly state. Somehow, we have to carry forward this world into our thought of the future world. We know that it will be different from this world; that there will be no eating and drinking; no giving in marriage; no death; that many conditions of this life will cease for the spirit. But we cannot, even in our closest thought, emancipate that life from all conditions of the earthly life. We see there the forms of earth, the faces of our loved ones, men and women there, not less than the angels of God, and men and women as the angels of God. We name those whom we shall meet in heaven, and call them, — James and John, Martha and Mary, -names which are sounds upon the tongue, accents in the ear. Saints have earthly names in

their spiritual abodes, and Deity has his name. The Jews call him Jehovah, and the Christians call him Jesus. The Infinite Spirit has his human name. No soul can escape this necessity in its own private conception of heaven. The imagination, in all its soaring, must take with it pictures of the physical experiences of the world that it tries to leave; the bright things, the beautiful things, of earth, it will take to the heavenly seats. The treasures which we seek to lay up in heaven will be substantially the treasures which we are laying up upon the earth. In its spiritual love, the soul cannot get away from its mortal love. The best things which it sees below are the best things which it sees above. In Raphael's picture, the Virgin, caught up to glory, sees the cloud all full of those cherub faces that hang in such distinct beauty of flesh and blood at her feet below; and this is what every soul will see in its rapturous musing on the heavenly world. A miser, loving his bags of money better than all other things, will imagine himself taking these with him, and finding coffers and a strong box in his chamber.

These which we have mentioned are acknowledged facts, which it is impossible to deny, of the connection of senses with soul; that the two make but one human personality; that the soul finds its outward expression and recognition in the physical frame; that the health of soul depends upon health of body; and that even its interior action must use physical conditions, must use what the senses give. The practical inferences from these facts are too large to be discussed in this article. It is enough to say that these facts vindicate the new style of Christian teaching that all sects accept. It is impossible now for the churches to restore that strange hallucination that the chief duty of a man while he is in the world is to renounce the world, to have nothing to do with it, to abuse it, to slander it, to see in it a habitation of devils, a whole creation of imps and fiends. That may stay in the confession of some liturgies, in the system of some sects; but not in the feeling of those who rule in these sects, and who read these liturgies. The young maiden may say in the, humility of her soul as she kneels before the priest, and re

peats his words, that she renounces henceforth and for ever "the world, the flesh, and the devil." She feels it then: perhaps the priest feels it, if he have not become an utter formalist. But it is not true for either of them. She will go back to her home, and, when the excitement has passed, will trim her garments in the latest style, will adorn her person, with careful skill, with the rings and bracelets, the mantles and mufflers, the wimples and crisping pins, the odors of sweet smell which the Hebrew prophet so sternly censures, and will make her appearance in this array in the very house of God where she has renounced the world and its vanities; while the priest who administered the vow will take his comfortable dinner with genuine zest, and find these savors of the flesh very soothing and pleasant; and the very church, too, in which this test is passed, will be ordered according to the most approved pattern, with cushioned seats, carpeted floors, colored windows, rich carved woods, gilt prayer-books, tassels on the desk, an organ pouring out its trills and melodies. Even this may not seem good enough, and a larger, richer, more sensuous "House of Prayer" may be called for. Think of the humble confessors, in silks and satins, in the last style of the fashion, renouncing the world and the flesh before a priest clothed in the finest of linen, in a building that has cost one, two, or three hundred thousand dollars, with a choir to say Amen whose training has been finished by all the cunning of the vocal art!

No! the chief duty of man in this world is not to renounce the world, and so impugn the wisdom of the great Father who has placed him here, but to use the world, to make the best of it, to use the flesh rightly and make the best of that. Even the very creeds that undervalue the things of sense tell that salvation is gained in the use of physical means, that we save the soul in handling the body, and making it serve the soul. It is a significant circumstance, as showing how impossible it is to carry out this idea of separation of physical and spiritual life here, that King James's translators render the same Greek word psyche sometimes "soul" and sometimes "life." It is now the spiritual life and now the earthly

life. We have, what the Hebrew had not, the grand doctrine of spiritual immortality. We look forward to a heavenly country, beyond this bank and shoal of time. But it is well that we are coming to learn that those who are stranded on this bank and shoal may make it show the heavenly country by bringing it to bud and blossom. It is good for us to take the Hebrew feeling that the Canaan where we dwell is our land of promise, and that we are set therein to make this the garden of God. Greater it is for Christians to make heaven where they are than to get to heaven by and by. So they follow the Master who brought God close home to men in their earthly estate. What do we cite to-day as proofs of the Christian feeling of the land? The lists of church-members, the number of revivals, the millions of tracts, in which the dogmas that men have ceased to believe are intruded; or the physical benefits which have been fixed and multiplied,homes for the friendless, for the orphans of soldiers, asylums of every kind, Boards of Health, the reports of Sanitary Commissions? Everybody feels that the History of the Sanitary Commission, or even of the Electric Telegraph, is a more Christian book than a treatise on Election, or a fantastic dream of the size and place of Heaven. The Incarnation now is the part of ancient doctrine that the world holds most precious; and the Incarnation means God dwelling in human flesh, working with human arms, speaking with human voice,— God in the world of men. This doctrine shall at last reconcile the warfare of sects, shall enable men to realize the kingdom of Christ, and to understand those mystic words of the Scripture that now seem so slow to show their meaning.

ART. III.—THE REIGN OF LAW, AND ITS RELATION TO RELIGIOUS TRUTH.

Ar a late meeting of the British Association, held in Norwich, the President, Dr. Hooker, delivered an opening address, which, as reported, opens before the English mind quite a new phase in the conflict between Science and Faith. Hitherto, Science, as represented by that august body, has been, in the main, neutral in the theological debate. It has sedulously kept the proprieties of custom and rank. It has been respectful, nay, complimentary, to the classes who are supposed to represent the opinion of the public on religious things. In the patient work, and in the infinite details, which make the province of science as popularly understood, very many clergymen have given intelligent, skilful, and efficient aid. Some of them were among the earliest to break the barriers of old prejudice which limited the act of creation within bounds that seem grotesquely little now; and to welcome the vast æons of geology, as well as the enormous spaces of astronomy, into the sphere of religious contemplation. In fact, the metaphysi cal training which theology gives, and its constant dealing with the limitless in time and space, made. those results of science rather welcome, as a sort of physical realization of what had looked like empty rhetoric or empty dreams. The patient experimenting of the chemist, the tender vigilance of the naturalist, were congenial to the habit of mind of many in that profession; and names more than respectable in the annals of science have been registered from its lists. On the whole, its opportunities of cultivated leisure were well improved; and, in the great preliminary toils of science, the gathering and accurate classifying of innumerable facts, the clergy has had its recognized and honored place. At the meeting in Norwich, about eighty representatives of that profession, Anglican or dissenter, were present, and contributed their full share to the opinions and the interest of the occasion.