it.  We perceive that all things grow as a tree grows, from unity to multiplicity, from simplicity and strength to beauty and fineness.  The generation of the line from the point, the plane from the line, and from the plane, the solid, is a matter, again, which chiefly interests the geometrician, but the inevitable sequence stands revealed in seed, stem, leaf, and fruit:  a point, a line, a surface, and a sphere.  There is another order of truths, also, which a tree teaches:  the renewal of its life each year is a symbol of the reincarnation of the soul, teaching that life is never-ending climax, and that what appears to be cessation is merely a change of state.  A tree grows great by being firmly rooted; we too, though children of the air, need the earth, and grow by good deeds, hidden, like the roots of the tree, out of sight; for the tree, rain and sunshine:  for the soul, tears and laughter thrill the imprisoned spirit into conscious life.

We love and understand the trees because we have ourselves passed through their evolution, and they survive in us still, for the arterial and nervous systems are trees, the roots of one in the heart, of the other in the brain.  Has not our body its trunk, bearing aloft the head, like a flower:  a cup to hold the precious juices of the brain?  Has not that trunk its tapering limbs which ramify into hands and feet, and these into fingers and toes, after the manner of the twigs and branches of a tree?

Closely related to symbolism is sacramentalism; the man who sees nature as a book of symbols is likely to regard life as a sacrament.  Because this is a point of view vitalizing to art let us glance at the sacramental life, divorced from the forms and observances of any specific religion.

This life consists in the habitual perception of an ulterior meaning, a hidden beauty and significance in the objects, acts, and events of every day.  Though binding us to a sensuous existence, these nevertheless contain within themselves the power of emancipating us from it:  over and above their immediate use, their pleasure or their profit, they have a hidden meaning which contains some healing message for the soul.

A classic example of a sacrament, not alone in the ordinary meaning of the term, but in the special sense above defined, is the Holy Communion of the Christian Church.  Its origin is a matter of common knowledge.  On the evening of the night in which He was betrayed, Jesus and His disciples were gathered together for the feast of the Passover.  Aware of His impending betrayal, and desirous of impressing powerfully upon His chosen followers the nature and purpose of His sacrifice, Jesus ordained a sacrament out of the simple materials of the repast.  He took bread and broke it, and gave to each a piece as the symbol of His broken body; and to each He passed a cup of wine, as a symbol of His poured-out blood.  In this act, as in the washing of the disciples’ feet on the same occasion, He made His ministrations to the needs of men’s bodies an allegory of His greater ministration to the needs of their souls.