ng meet as in one point, which is seen to
be at once the point of departure and of return. Thus we may speak of a
man's life as included between his birth and his death, and with
reference to this physiological term, think of him as living, and then
as dead; but we may also consider him while living as yet every moment
dying, and in this view death is clearly seen to be the inseparable
companion of life,--the way of return, and so of continuance. This
pulsation, forever a vanishing and a resurgence, so incalculably swift
as to escape observation, is proper to life as life, does not begin with
what we call birth nor end with what we call death (considering birth
and death as terms applicable to an individual existence); it is forever
beginning and forever ending. Thus to all manifest existence we apply
the term Nature (_natura_), which means "forever being born"; and on its
vanishing side it is _moritura_, or "forever dying." Resurrection is
thus a natural and perpetual miracle. The idea of life as transcending
any individual embodiment is as germane to science as it is to faith.

Death, thus seen as essential, is lifted above its temporary and visible
accidents. It is no longer associated with corruption, but rather with
the sweet and wholesome freshness of life, being the way of its renewal.
Sweeter than the honey which Samson found in the lion's carcass is this
everlasting sweetness of Death; and it is a mystery deeper than the
strong man's riddle.

So is Death pure and clean, as is the dew that comes with the cool night
when the sun has set; clean and white as the snowflakes that betoken the
absolution which Winter gives, shriving the earth of all her Summer
wantonness and excess, when only the trees that yield balsam and
aromatic fragrance remain green, breaking the box of precious ointment
for burial.

In this view also is restored the kinship of Death with Sleep.

The state of the infant seems to be one of chronic mysticism, since
during the greater part of its days its eyes are closed to the outer
world. Its larger familiarity is still with the invisible, and it seems
as if the Mothers of Darkness were still withholding it as their
nursling, accomplishing for it some mighty work in their proper realm,
some such fiery baptism of infants as is frequently instanced in Greek
mythology, tempering them for earthly trials. The infant must needs
sleep while this work is being done for it; it has been sleeping since
t