are yet behind the times. We can answer while they are yet speaking, but we cannot hear before they call."

Another statesman is Faith. Arnold Ure has written an excellent definition of faith. After speaking of the fact that both science and philosophy may and do err, he says: "Religion demands faith; and faith would seem to be that inborn necessity which has ever compelled the human race to aspire to higher ideals and to higher beliefs than can be afforded, either by the proofs of science, or the reasoning of philosophy." Faith, then, is an inborn necessity of the soul. When the babbling idiots of Touch, Hearing, and Sight deny, Faith triumphantly affirms-affirms with the conviction of a pioneer cutting his way through a tangled forest, convinced that light and the open country are on the other side. But Faith is not only a pioneer, a herald, a John the Baptist of the Soul, announcing the presence of the Invisible King,-Faith is essentially creative. Faith brings to nought the things that seem that it may manifest the things that are. Faith is the soul's creative genius. In wireless telegraphy, we see man controlling, actually creating and collecting vibrations of which his senses are entirely ignorant. And how does he do it? By means of instruments which he himself has invented. Who would dare to hint that man has reached the limit of his inventive powers? The time may come-probably not in your day nor

mine when, as the late Stephen Phillips sang, "the delusion of death shall pass." Will man ever, through electric or ether eyes, stand upon the shores of the Hudson and see his friend on the banks of the Thames? Who knows? Surely, the day is not far distant when a single man, by pressing an electric button, will destroy navies and armies, making war, as we now know it, utterly impossible. Maurice Maeterlinck thinks that, within a century, man will be able to steer his planet through space. It is a rather daring conjecture. Meantime, until man has learned to kick militaristic kaiserism off the planet, it will matter little which way he steers it, for his planet will hardly be worth steering at all. Man has already partially harnessed the energy of Niagara. Is it too much to prophesy that some day man will harness the energy thrown off by the earth, as it flies through space? At any rate, man has an unconquerable faith in himself which will go steadily on conquering physical obstacles. But faith in himself is not enough, man must have an increasingly deepening, growing, allinclusive faith in that Other, Higher, and Eternal Self, even the God and Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Exercising that faith, neither life, nor death, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creation-nothing within the visible, the invisible, or the as yet uncreated-shall be able to separate him from the love

of God, which is infinitely broader than the measure of man's mind.

Here, then, is the barest hint of Man's Enchanted Universe. It is as old as the Book of Genesis, as new as the Book of Life. "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul."

II

THE UNTROUBLED HEART

"Let not your heart be troubled."-ST. JOHN XIV: I.

H

ORACE BUSHNELL, just before he died, speaking of these words, exclaimed: "What soft and sweet infolding of all highest things." Right soft and sweet they are, wondrously infolding, and highest in the ultimate heights. Once, at least, the human dream, the ageless longing, got itself expressed in fitting words. But words alone could not suffice; words may be but breath blown into blossoms of fragrant sound; they may be beautiful without being ministers of grace. But here, in this Upper Room, the spiritual cathedral of humanity, final words are wedded to final life, final truth, final reality. It was in a troubled atmosphere, instinct with troubled souls, overwhelmed by approaching disaster and infelt dismay, that the Master spoke out His music of holy calm, stilled the foam-flecked waves of that apostolic, and very human sea. And we need to hear these words again for the same reason that these men heard them first. For are we not in a world of sin, of discord, of mystery, of trouble?

Yet we may have peace in the midst of trouble, light in the heart of mystery, calm in the centre of confusion. Ours may be the way of the untroubled heart. What is its source? What is its method? And what is its goal?

I

The first essential of the untroubled heart is faith in a Christlike God. "Believe in God," said the Master; and then, in answer to Philip's plea to show him the Father, Jesus sets forth the kind of God he is to believe in. "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." The kind of Deity we worship is a matter of supreme importance. Men and nations disclose their God in their own characters. Is God worshiped as immeasurable force? Then brute force becomes dominant in the worshipers. Is God considered an infinite brain? Then intellect has the ascendency. Is God thought of as omnipotent will? Then will is uppermost in those who thus think of the Almighty. So one might go through the nations of the past and present and read their God by their character. The same is true, also, of individuals. Now, because of this fact, we cannot be too careful of our views of God. While right views alone cannot save us, they may enable us more vividly to appreciate the Saviour who can.

Who, then, is this glorious Being, trust in Whom