was upon it, and how beautifully white it came out of their hands. I was told I could not enter God's kingdom until I underwent such an operation; that unless I was thus washed and made white, I could have no part in the dear Son of God. For weeks I was absorbed in the consideration of the subject the washing of regeneration. I had never heard such things before, and I greatly wondered that, having been baptized with water, and having also received what they call the sacrament of confirmation, I should have to pass through such a purification." Just as it was in the beginning, we see, "How shall ye believe if I tell you of heavenly things?'

But by and by this mystery is solved, by being wrought out in a living personal experience, and the regeneration of the Spirit is followed by a long life of eager and humble feeding on the Spirit and the Word of God. And now appears a greater mystery. By a strange and subtile power the hearts of kings and emperors are made to open to this saintly preacher, while they listen entranced as he unfolds to them the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, and pleads the claims of Divine Love. Popes and cardinals, priests and nuns, give

ear; their hearts melt, and their eyes flow with tears, while they confess that they never heard it on this wise before. Here is a life which maintained such communion with God that there was far more of heaven than of earth in it. Let us see in it a living testimony of what the Holy Spirit and the Holy Word can effect when wrought into living Christian character.

We are touching a most vital point now. Physiology shows us how inevitably the food on which one subsists determines the texture of his flesh. Can the daily newspaper, the light romance, and the secular magazine, build up the fibre and tissue of a true spiritual character? We are not putting any surly prohibition on these things; but when we think of the place which they hold in modern society, and with how many Christians they constitute the larger share of the daily reading, there is suggested a very serious theme for reflection. As the solemn necessity is laid upon the sinner of choosing between Christ and the world, so is the choice pressed upon the Christian between the Bible and literature - that is, the choice as to which shall hold the supreme place. "Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after

righteousness." Ah! how quickly a day's bodily languor and want of appetite is noted and attended to. But how many days have we known in which there has been no relish for the Word of God, no deep, inward craving after that meat which the world knows not of. And have we been so alarmed at this symptom that we have made haste at once to seek its cure?

The fact of the Scriptures furnishing nutriment and upbuilding to the soul, is the most real experience of which we have knowledge. None of us, "by taking thought, can add one cubit unto his stature." But how many, by taking in God's great thoughts, feeding on them and inwardly digesting them, have added vastly to their spiritual stature. We have noticed especially, in the lives of Christians, how some long-neglected but freshly-revived truth has marvelously quickened and built up the soul. Its newness has created a strong relish in the believer, and so imparted a mighty impulse to his spiritual growth. How true this has been of such doctrines as those of "Justification by Faith," "The Witness of the Spirit," and the "Coming of the Lord." The revival of these doctrines has constituted distinct

eras of reformation in the Church, but previously, also, marked eras of renewal in the individual soul. We may take the last mentioned as the one most recently revived. The biographer of Hewitson says of him: "He not only believed in the speedy appearing, but loved it, waited for it, watched for it. So mighty a motive power did it become that he ever used to speak of it afterward as bringing with it a kind of second conversion." Yes; and how many Christians of our day know what this means. Such is the vivifying power of truth; so does it come in to repair the waste in our spiritual life, to build up new tissue, and to put new blood into our heavenly man.

The same may be said of prayer and meditation. They have mighty renewing power. They quicken our life, and multiply within us the joy of the Lord, which is our strength.

In these days, when the closet has become so contracted and the Church so expanded; when Christians have learned to find their edification so largely in the public services, in the music, and art, and eloquence of the sanctuary, and so little in the still hour of communion, it is quite hard to believe that the greatest enjoyment is possible in

solitude with God. We read of Columkiil bidding farewell to his hermit's cell and homely fare to take the honors and emoluments of the bishopric of Iona, yet exclaiming tearfully: "Farewell, Arran of my heart! Paradise is with thee; the garden of God is within sound of thy bells." And as we read this we say, forsooth, "This is monkish sentimentalism." But what when we find sober Protestant saints like the one just quoted, Hewitson, writing: "Communion with Christ is the only source of satisfaction, the only source of lasting joy. I have enjoyed more even this morning from beholding the loveliness of the glory of Christ, as revealed to me by the Spirit, than I have done from the world during the whole of my life." Or, to rise to a still more incredible altitude, what if we listen to that mighty interceder with God, John Welch, of Scotland, crying in one of his seasons of rapt communion, "O Lord, hold thy hand; it is enough; thy servant is a clay vessel, and can contain no more?" Surely, this is strange language to most of us. But if we turn to the Scriptures of our Lord, we may find a possible key to such alleged experiences; for when we ask our Master why he has revealed such won