ted place in a great factory,--but is this
all? His real work lies both in the visible and in the invisible. On
the one hand he is contributing to the material resources of the world,
and he is earning his wage by which to live; on the other hand he is
developing patience, faithfulness, and judgment,--quantities of the
spiritual man and possessions of the spiritual life which extend the
spiritual territory. Faithfulness to the immediate duty creates a larger
theatre for duty. There are not wanting examples that could be named of
statesmen,--senators, governors, and others in high places, to say
nothing of the supreme example of a Lincoln; there are not wanting
examples of professional men in high and important places who initiated
their work by any humble and honest industrial employment that chanced
to present itself at the moment. Conquering this rudimentary realm, they
passed on to others successively. Integrity is a spiritual quantity, and
it insures spiritual aid. The cloud of witnesses is never dispersed. The
only imprisonment is in limitations, and limitations can be constantly
overcome. The horizon line of the impossible recedes as we advance. In
the last analysis nothing is too sublime or too beautiful to be
entirely possible. Its attainment is simply a question of conditions.
These conditions lie in entering into this inner realm of spiritual
energy in which the personal will is increasingly identified with the
will of God.

Like an echo of celestial music are these lines by Sully-Prudhomme:--

"The lilies fade with the dying hours,
Hushed is the song-bird's lay;
But I dream of summers and dream of flowers
That last alway."

Nor is this only the day-dream of a poet. The summers and flowers that
last alway are a very immediate treasure which one has only to perceive,
to grasp, to recognize, and to realize. "Surely," exclaimed the
Psalmist, "goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever." This dwelling in
"the house of the Lord" is by no means a figure of speech. Nor is it to
be regarded as some ineffable privilege to be--possibly to be--enjoyed
after that change we call death. Its real significance is here and now.
One must dwell in "the house of the Lord" to-day, and every day. The
"house of the Lord" is a beautiful figurative expression for that
spiritual atmosphere in which one may perpetually live, and in which it
is his simple