Suppose a mountain of diamonds, glittering in the sunbeams, were at a distance from a company of men, but visible to them by their radiant light. Suppose that between this treasure and these men were strong barriers and all sorts of obstructions which they must remove or surmount before they could reach this mountain, the object of their desires. Now, should they be instructed that the true way to reach it is to keep the eye continually fixed upon it, and the desire going out to it, the attention abstracted from everything else? Think you that by following this showing they would ever grasp the treasure? Will looking after it, aspiring after it, with the strongest possible desire, without an attempt to clear the avenues that lead to it. so that they can pass through them and reach it, ever give them the desire of their hearts? Surely not. Progress is improvement. It measures not the ground passed over, but what has been gained in passing. There are people who imagine that so long as they are going from one thing to another, they are progressing; and there is probably no greater hindrance to advancement than the modern habit of dropping the last method, or idea, or machine, for the next that comes in sight.

Many persons who have all the latest methods at their fingers' ends are making no more progress than did the little girl who tried hard to gather a bouquet, but dropped a flower every time she reached out to pluck a new one. True progress consists in bringing forward from yesterday the good of yesterday, and adding to the store the good of to-day. What of the tidal wave? That mysterious, indispensable swelling of the waters that, following the "pull" of the moon, rolls round this globe of ours twice in each twenty-four hours, stemming the outflow of mighty rivers, penetrating far inland wherever access is available, and doing within its short leave of life an amount of beneficent work freely, that would beggar the wealthiest monarchy of the world to undertake, if it must needs be paid for. Mysterious it may well be called, since though its passage from zone to zone be so swift, it is like all other waves, but an undulating movement of that portion of the sea momentarily influenced by the suasion of the planet - not, as vulgarly supposed, the same mass of water vehemently carried onwards for thousands of miles. Mountains are suggestive of streams. The dead, level countries know no gushing springs, no swift, purling brooks, no clear, beautiful rivers.

The plain is often parched and bare, when from the mountain side flow fountains of life and fertility. Water is typical not only of both of these, but of cleansing and peace. What makes sweeter music than the patter of the rain upon the roof, the babbling of the purling brook over the pebbles and stones and rocks? What grander than the rush of mighty waters over the stupendous cliff; the roar of Niagara, "the sound of many-waters," like the voice of God? No matter if storms are raging in the desert and in the mountains; no matter what clamors fill the air, the voice, soft and low, avoids them all and beats upon the ear, as on still nights a far-off melody steals out upon the air, and thrills its pulses with music. We receive a telegram, but it is only a thought. It is simply a triumph of mind over matter. It is a defiance, by science, of time and space. It is material altogether. But there is soul in a telephone. It says, in effect: "Come talk with your friend; I will carry to him your voice; not one tone or inflection shall be lost or changed, and you will feel that he is by your side." The laws of mind and the laws of matter can mean nothing more. Hypnotism and telepathy prove the power of mind over matter. Telepathy proves the limitless soul power.

Hypnotism at a distance and telepathy prove a strange power, unseen by the fleshy eye. They prove the wireless telegraph; they prove immortality.

I AM THAT I AM. A11 noble impulses are speechless prophets and bring the things which are to be into the mental horizon to be recognized by the searcher after truth. Genius has its moments, or periods, when the being seems to be touched by a master hand. We see the all engrossing question which still remains before the greatest minds: "What are we; whence have we come; and whither are we going?" Everywhere shall the life of man have an attractive influence and corresponding relationship, and the thought of the Divine Fatherhood will be more clearly understood by the saying of the Scripture: "In My Father's house are many mansions;" through which man shall be conducted in his upward progress and future development. Death is but the ending of one form and birth the beginning of another. Force and substance are the generally acknowledged fundamental principles or primeval essences of life, and from which we derive our consciousness. Let us exclaim with the suffering isolate in the desert: "O life, Light of Life! O Life of my Soul, illumine me! I am nothing, shine within me; light a lamp in my soul that I may see myself and know Thy will.

Who shall overcome the earth and the world of death? Who shall find out the path of virtue as a clever man finds out a tree? He who knows that body is like froth, and has learned that all things are unsubstantial, he shall break the arrow of death." Behold a rift in the clouds! there is hope in the near future when there shall be reciprocity of wisdom-a recognition of the brotherhood of man and the Fatherhood of God. Oh, Mighty Infinite, where art Thou and where art Thou not I Where dost Thou make Thy habitation and where is that spot which Thou dost not inhabit! Thou hadst no beginning; likewise wilt Thou find no ending of days I Thou hast no bounds, no dimensions,:and to Thy power to unfold in every new and varying forms'and conditions, who has fixed the limit I Likewise as is Infinitude itself, so also are each and all of its atoms! No bounds are fixed for their habitation and their bountiful provision, how like unto Thine own I The bounds of the soul where are they? and what is the limit of its power? Oh, Mighty One! So does man resemble Thee in his unfoldment and his possibilities ! As man reaches the confines of a new sphere, he hears the echoes of new and strange sounds eternally reverberating along the corridors of thought and reaching far into the abyss, sweet with the eternal resonance of ever unfolding life; he knows there is no death - there is no death.

But Life, everlasting Life and Light. Give us Light, Light, Light!

The Music Of The Spheres

"What is that grand

Celestial band Which everybody hears,

Whose strain we all, Enraptured call

The Music of the Spheres?

"Who thinks how all

In each bright hall Whirl round, yet know no fears

Of clashing, kneels In soul and feels

The Music of the Spheres!

"This whirling world,

Which God once hurl'd In space, and still uproars,

Sings, rolling round, Without a sound,

The Music of the Spheres!

"It would be vain

To try to explain That song none other peers;

But in its peel 'All men can feel

The Music of the Spheres!

CARL SEXTUS.