beauty, whence their love to one another continually increases, so that they lead one another by the hand, and so friendly kiss one another.’  Thus the blessed Behmen saw paradise and had it in his heart as he sat over his hammer and lapstone in his solitary stall.  For of such as Jacob Behmen and John Bunyan is the kingdom of heaven, and all such saintly souls have paradise restored again and improved upon in their own hearts.

4.  And for largeness a place so copious as to contain all the world.  Over against the word ‘copious’ Bunyan hangs for a key, Ecclesiastes third and eleventh; and under it Miss Peacock adds this as a note—­’Copious, spacious.  Old French, copieux; Latin, copiosus, plentiful.’  The human heart, as we have already read to-night, is the highest, greatest, strongest, and noblest part of human nature.  And so it is.  Fearfully and wonderfully made as is the whole of human nature, that fear and that wonder surpass themselves in the spaciousness and the copiousness of the human heart.  For what is it that the human heart has not space for, and to spare?  After the whole world is received home into a human heart, there is room, and, indeed, hunger, for another world, and after that for still another.  The sun is—­I forget how many times bigger than our whole world, and yet we can open our heart and take down the sun into it, and shut him out again and restore him to his immeasurable distances in the heavens, and all in the twinkling of an eye.  As for instance.  As I wrote these lines I read a report of a lecture by Sir Robert Ball in which that distinguished astronomer discoursed on recent solar discoveries.  A globe of coal, Sir Robert said, as big as our earth, and all set ablaze at the same moment, would not give out so much heat to the worlds around as the sun gives out in a thousandth part of a second.  Well, as I read that, and ere ever I was aware what was going on, my heart had opened over my newspaper, and the sun had swept down from the sky, and had rushed into my heart, and before I knew where I was the cry had escaped my lips, ’Great and marvellous are Thy works, Lord God Almighty!  Who shall not fear Thee and glorify thy name?’ And then this reflection as suddenly came to me:  How good it is to be at peace with God, and to be able and willing to say, My Father!  That the whole of the surging and flaming sun was actually down in my straitened and hampered heart at that idle moment over my paper is scientifically demonstrable; for only that which is in the heart of a man can kindle the passions that are in the heart of that man; and nothing is more sure to me than that the great passions of fear and love, wonder and rapture were at that moment at a burning point within me.  There is a passage well on in the Holy War, which for terror and for horror, and at the same time for truth and for power, equals anything either in Dante or in Milton.  Lucifer has stood up at the council board to second the scheme