when you know that God is infinite, is everywhere, then all space is holy ground; all days are holy time; all truth is God's word; all persons are subjects of religious duty, invested with unalienable religious rights, and claiming respect and love as fellow-children of the same dear God. Then, too, all work becomes sacred and venerable ; common life, your highest or your humblest toil, is your element of daily communion with men, as your act of prayer is your communion with the Infinite God.
This is the history of all artificial sacraments. A man rises with more than the ordinary amount of religion; by the accident of his personal character, or by some circumstance or event in his history, he does some particular thing as an act of religion. To him it is such, and represents his feeling of penitence, or resolution, or gratitude, or faith in God. Other men wish to be as religious as he, and do the same thing, hoping to get thereby the same amount of religion. By and by the deed itself is mistaken for religion, repeated again and again. The feeling which first prompted it is all gone, the act becomes merely mechanical, and thus of no value.
Thousands of years ago some man of wicked ways resolved to break from them and start anew, converted by some saint. He calls the neighbours together at the side of the Euphrates, the Jordan, or the Nile,—elements which he deems divine,—and plunges in: "Thus I will wipe off all ancient sin," says he; "by this act I pledge myself to a new life,—this holy element is witness to my vow ; let the saints bear record!" The penitence is real, the resolution is real, the act of self-baptism means something. By and by other penitent men do the same, from the same motive, struck by his example. Crowds look on from curiosity ; a few idly imitate the form ; then many from fashion. Soon it is all ceremony, and means nothing. It is the property of the priest; it is cherished still, and stands in place of religion. The single, momentary dispensation of water is thought of more religious importance than the daily dispensation of righteousness. Men go leagues long on pilgrimage,—to dip them in the sacred stream, and return washed, but not clean; baptized, but neither beautiful nor blameless. At length it is thought
