A thirsty man discovered a tank of water, but could not drink of it because it was surrounded by a high wall. He took some of the bricks off the top of the wall and cast them over it into the water. The water cried out, "What advantage do you gain by doing this?" He made answer, "The first advantage is this, that I hear your voice; and the second, that the more bricks I pull off the wall, the nearer I approach to you." The moral is, that so long as the wall of the body intervenes, we cannot reach the water of life. The abasement of the body brings men nearer to union with the Deity. Destroy, therefore, the fleshly lusts which war against the soul. Then follows another parable to illustrate the folly of procrastination in this important matter.

"It was not ye who shot, but God shot; and those arrows were God's not yours". 'Tis God's light that illumines the senses' light, That is the meaning of "Light upon light." The senses' light draws us earthwards, God's light carries us heavenwards. As objects of sense are of base condition, God's light is an ocean, and the senses' light a dewdrop. But that light which is "upon this light" is not seen,

Since the senses' light is gross and dense, When you cannot see the senses' light with the eye, How can you see with the eye the Light of the mind? As the senses' light is hidden in these gross veils, Must not that Light which is pure be also hidden? Like the senses, this world is ruled by a hidden Power. It confesses its impotence before that hidden Power, Which sometimes exalts it and sometimes lays it low, The hand is hidden, yet we see the pen writing;

The horse is galloping, yet the rider is hid from view. The arrow speeds forth, yet the bow is not seen; Souls are seen, the Soul of souls (God) is hidden. Break not the arrow, for it is the arrow of the King Yea, it is an arrow from the bow of Wisdom. "Ye shot not when ye shot," was said by God; God's action has predominance over all actions. Break your own passion, break not that arrow, Kiss that arrow and bear it to the King,

Yea, though it be stained with your own blood. Whatsoever is seen is weak and base and impotent; We are the captured game; who is the snare? We are the balls; where is the bat? He tears and mends; who is this tailor? He fans and kindles the flame; who is this kindler? At one time He makes the faithful one an infidel, At another He makes the atheist a devotee!