something like what a great and good man does, whose wisdom is beyond the comprehension of a little child, but who nevertheless comes down to the child's infantile state; accommodates himself to its feeble capacities; renders himself approachable, intelligible, helpful and lovable to the child in and through the medium of his body; that is, by the gifts he bestows, and the lessons he teaches, and the feelings he expresses, and the things he does for the child through the body's instrumentality. In this and in no other way can the great man reveal himself to the little child.
To pursue the illustration a step further.—No person of mature age can impart his knowledge and experience to a little child. He may tell the child in simplest language all he knows of geological, astronomical, physiological and chemical science; he may give utterance to his highest conceptions of the character of God and the grandeur of the universe; he may tell of his religious experiences, of his internal and agonizing conflicts with infernal spirits, and the sweet and serene peace that bathed his soul when those conflicts were ended; he may tell the child all this, but how much of it will be received or comprehended? Imagine yourself the teacher, and what, after all, have you revealed to that child, of your higher knowledge and deeper experiences? Nothing—absolutely nothing. Nor is
