correspondence. The indwelling of the spirit is said to be in the body, and the outdwelling of the spirit is said to be out of the body; but as regards Christ, the indwelling is said to be with (πpòs), not in (ev), Christ, and the outdwelling is said to be from (àñò), not out of (ek), the Lord. (See also Rev. vi. 9.)

Still, the great fact remains, that the spiritual human body of Jesus becomes the residence of the spirits of the saints, when the earthly house of their tabernacle is dissolved at death; and if so, is not this an alarming consideration for those who are conscious that they have not yet received the earnest of the Spirit? That frail body of theirs, that little shallop in which they are embarked, must in a very short time go to pieces, and cast their trembling spirits out into the deep. No hell is needed to ensure their everlasting ruin; it is enough that God refuses to listen to their cry of woe. Often has the Holy Spirit pleaded to be taken in; often has He been despitefully refused; and when, at length, the frail vessel can hold out no longer, and the immortal spirit takes its first plunge into outer darkness, the shriek of that lost soul will find no echo of mercy returning from a rejected Saviour, but only the stern judgment of an avenging God: "Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh; when your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me" (Prov. i. 24–28).

The union between the saints and the Saviour is too

much regarded as a metaphorical, rather than a real and personal union. His Spirit really dwells in their bodies. along with their spirits; and then, when that house of their tabernacle is dissolved, they have another and more glorious building, which receives them both. This was the grand purpose of the Saviour's work: "That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us; .... That they may be one, EVEN AS WE ARE ONE" (John xvii. 21, 22). There are three great mysteries revealed in Scripture: there is, first, the mystery of the Trinity-a plurality of persons in one nature; there is, next, the mystery of the Incarnation (1 Tim. iii. 16)—a plurality of natures in one person; and, lastly, there is the mystery of the Church in Christ (Eph. V. 32)-a plurality of persons in one nature. They are one, therefore, after the manner of the Trinity.

CHAPTER XXX.

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE RESURRECTION.

WE have already had occasion to notice that light, heat, and electricity are convertible into one another, and that they are merely different forms of one force, which has not yet received a name, but which is as definite in quantity, and as indestructible in its substance, as matter itself.

We have also noticed that this force, when it ascends into organic life, acquires a new character and new properties; and, as all the changes which take place in inorganic matter are produced by this force in its inorganic forms, so are all the changes which take place in vegetables and animals produced by this same force in its organic forms. For example, when water boils in the boiler of a steam-engine the change is produced by heat, which is one of the inorganic forms of force, and part of the heat is converted into mechanical power, which is another of its inorganic forms. This mechanical force again may be made to drive an electrical machine, and then the mechanical power is converted into electricity, which is a third inorganic form of force; and thus the inorganic forms of force are converted into one another; and the changes which are taking place are produced, not by matter itself, but by force which enters it. In like manner, when light shines upon a living plant, the light,

which is one of the inorganic forms of force, is absorbed by the plant, and is changed into another form of force, different from any of its inorganic forms, and is capable of producing effects which neither light, heat, nor electricity, as such, is capable of producing; it has assumed an organic form, and is capable of producing organic changes. Thus, if there be water and carbonic acid present, this organic form of force can not only separate the oxygen from the water and the carbonic acid, but it can unite the carbon of the latter with the hydrogen of the former, and use up, at the same time, as much of the oxygen as is needed to form wood, or starch, or sugar, according to the necessities of the plant, or the part of the plant where it is in action.

It must also be remarked that the inorganic forms of force (for convenience we shall call them inorganic forces) cannot be changed into organic forces, except where there is already organic life. For example, light may be changed into organic force when it falls upon a living plant, and in this new form can produce wood or resin, or any other vegetable substance, wherever they may be needed, provided the materials are present from which they can be formed; but if light fall upon a piece of dead wood, or a piece of vegetable substance in which life is extinct, the light may be changed into some of the other inorganic forms of force, but it can never rise into any of the organic forms. Water and carbonic acid may be formed in any quantities, or they may be decomposed in any quantities; but wood, gum, or any vegetable substance can only be produced where there is already vegetable life.

But we must not confound organic force with organic life: organic force is capable of assuming only one form,

and performing only one function at a time. It may be used in combining carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen into one substance, and then it has the form of phyto-chemical affinity; or it may be employed in giving circulation to the sap within the cells, and then it assumes a phytodynamic form: but in whatever way it is used, it is capable of assuming only one form, and producing only one result at a time. It is otherwise with organic life, which produces not one but many different effects at the same time, according to the type or pattern to which it belongs; and these effects it produces, first, by converting the inorganic force into that kind of organic force which it requires for each part; and, secondly, determining the work that is to be done by it. In one place it is superintending the production of cells; in another, the storing of such cells with starch; and so on through all its establishment, like the general of an army, or the master of a workshop.

We now turn to the animal kingdom, and find the same principles at work. The blood conveys the nourishment to every part of the body, but it depends on the presence of life in each part whether it will produce any organic change or not. Wherever there is life, some organic force will be produced: at one place the blood will deposit skin, at another flesh, at another cartilage, and at another bone. In each of these parts there is the life power, but the kind and quality is different in each. The life power which determines the formation of bone, must be different from that which determines the formation of flesh; so that through the whole body there is as great a diversity of life power as there is diversity of material.

We must next observe that these exquisitely diversified life powers are not independent existences, but con