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uced, as the friend is but the 'alter ego'—'the other self,' as the disciple is but the preceptor rejuvenated, as the harvest is but the seed manifolded, even so the universe is the offspring—the creation and the companion, the expansion and the harmony of the supreme Spirit-God. He is not merely a distant driving-power but the ever-present, immediate, inmost vitality. God is the plan and the purpose, the essential and enduring reality, behind this ever-unfolding scene called creation. Let us realise it as a literal fact that even now my tongue could not speak, the other organs of speech could not form the modulations to which we give the name of language, the atmospheric throbs of undulation could not carry my humble utterance to your receptive minds, my feeble expressions could not find a sympathetic response in your valuable experience, but for the direct working, nay, the personal presence, of the Universal Witness in our souls through the whole round of these seemingly trivial transactions. When the sages described Him
