the human frame a rack of torture and turn its vital streams into currents of fire, unless something had perverted the fundamental laws of our being. We are surely treading here amid the ruins of a disor dered and a broken nature. There is nothing in the fact of mortal change, which is merely outward and phenomenal, the flux and reflux of being on its course to the highest development of life, there is nothing in this fact that it should be draperied about with mourning in our homes and churches. We look out at this moment into the natural world, and we there see the processes of death going on under very different conditions. There is something soothing beyond description, when nature puts on her death-robes, something which disposes to calm and holy musings. How peacefully does it come over the landscape, and what brilliancy does it fling upon the woods of autumn! And as we look along the western horizon, where "parting day dies like a dolphin" whom every ebb of life imbues with a fresh glory, what a contrast have we in the aspect with which it comes to nature and to man! We do not put these analogies in an argumentative way, any farther than to suggest what death might be, and what it would be to an untainted human nature. This flesh which we wear is the foliage of an unseen and an immortal life, and there is no reason why it should not fall away in its season, still and peaceful as autumn leaves, that this interior life may flower forth anew in the glories of unending spring. There is no reason why it should not steal on the decay

ing senses without a pang, so that while the mortal fades away, the immortal appears, one waxing as the other is waning, every entrance into the spiritworld being with a train of light lingering on the mind, sweet and mellow as that which rests on the hills at eventide.

But two things there are which barb the sting of death. There is this inheritance of disease that we speak of, of organizations with broken laws and the earnest of swift decay. Hence death is not the unclothing of the spirit, but the rending away of its garment by violence. But more than this; man becomes buried in sense and matter, and this world becomes all in all. This world is the substance, while the spirit-world is the shadow. This is real, while that is spectral. Therefore to leave the solid earth is to tread away into nothing, and drop into the cold depths of the night, while on the ear from all that are loved and loving are falling everlasting farewells. On account of this seeming annihilation, nature sends up a deep and bitter cry. Or perhaps one sees before him the shadow-land which tradition has peopled with terrors, and where only phantoms are gliding past.

To a human nature in the freshness and purity of its morning prime, when celestial beings stood on the confines of both worlds and sang "strains suitable for both," the eye of faith would be open and clear; the spirit-realm would be the substance, while this would be the shadow; from infancy to age human beings would live in conscious fellowship with

the sweet societies of the blest; death would come in his season, not to tear them away, but to lift a veil from their eyes, and disclose to them that sphere which already had sent its peace into their hearts and left its brightness on their souls.

CHAPTER VII.

THE "ADAM" OF ST. PAUL.

PAUL, in his letter to the Romans, has a passage which has figured largely in our theologies, and on account of its deep philosophical import we will cite it at length, in as literal a rendering as it will bear. "Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned. (For until the law, sin was in the world. But sin is not imputed where there is no law. Nevertheless, death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those that had not sinned after the likeness of Adam's transgression, who is the type of him that was to come. Yet the free gift again is not so as is the offence. For if through the offence of one the many be dead, much more the grace of God, and the gift which is through the grace of one man, Jesus Christ, hath abounded to the many. Neither is the gift so as it was by one who sinned. For the judgment was of one offence to condemnation, but the free gift is of many offences to justification. For if by the offence of one, death reigned by one, much more they who receive the abounding grace and gift of justification shall reign

ADAM

in life by one Jesus Christ.)

Therefore, as by the

offence of one judgment came upon all men unto condemnation, even so by the righteousness of one the gift came upon all men to justification of life. For as by one man's disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall the many be made righteous. Moreover, the law entered that the offence might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did superabound; that as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign, through righteousness, unto eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord."

The Apostle's style is so exceedingly concise, that we must paraphrase his language a little in order to make it clear. He is arguing with a supposed Jewish objector; his style is interlocutory, and if the ellipses were supplied, his argument would proceed thus:

OBJECTOR.

The blessings of the true religion are the peculiar inheritance of the seed of Abraham, and in the keeping of the Jewish Church; how, then, can Christianity be true, which breaks down sacred distinctions, and takes every body into its favor?

PAUL.

I reply to that, that a true religion has for its object to bring a remedy for sin and make men holy, and the remedy must be coextensive with the evil. Wherefore, as by one man sin entered the world, and