existed
outside them, independent of their thought. Nor does the trite epigram
touch the surface of the real mystery. The sun, the human beings on
the mountain, and the mists are all parts of one material universe:
the transient phenomenon we witnessed was but the effect of a chance
combination. Is, then, the anthropomorphic God as momentary and as
accidental in the system of the world as that vapoury spectre? The
God in whom we live and move and have our being must be far more
all-pervasive, more incognisable by the souls of men, who doubt not
for one moment of His presence and His power. Except for purposes of
rhetoric the metaphor that seemed so clever fails. Nor, when once such
thoughts have been stirred in us by such a sight, can we do better
than repeat Goethe's sublime profession of a philosophic mysticism.
This translation I made one morning on the Pasterze Gletscher beneath
the spires of the Gross Glockner:--

To Him who from eternity, self-stirred,
Himself hath made by His creative word!
To Him, supreme, who causeth Faith to be,
Trust, Hope, Love, Power, and endless Energy!
To Him, who, seek to name Him as we will,
Unknown within Himself abideth still!

Strain ear and eye, till sight and sense be dim;
Thou'lt find but faint similitudes of Him:
Yea, and thy spirit in her flight of flame
Still strives to gauge the symbol and the name:
Charmed and compelled thou climb'st from height to height,
And round thy path the world shines wondrous bright;
Time, Space, and Size, and Distance cease to be,
And every step is fresh infinity.
What were the God who sat outside to scan
The spheres that 'neath His finger circling ran?
God dwells within, and moves the world and moulds,
Himself and Nature in one form enfolds:
Thus all that lives in Him and breathes and is,
Shall ne'er His puissance, ne'er His spirit miss.

The soul of man, too, is an universe:
Whence follows it that race with race concurs
In naming all it knows of good and true
God,--yea, its own God; and with homage due
Surrenders to His sway both earth and heaven;
Fears Him, and loves, where place for love is given.

* * * * *

_LOMBARD VIGNETTES_

ON THE SUPERGA

This is the chord of Lombard colouring in May. Lowest in the scale:
bright green of varied tints, the meadow-grasses mingling with willows
and acacias, harmonised by air and distance. Next, opaque b