is the conception of the beauties of heaven an exception to this. The glories of that kingdom are indeed, in themselves, such as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, yet all its magnificence and beauty will remain for ever unseen and unfelt unless they be reflected in our own hearts and understandings. We must first go up to heaven as a state before we can go up to heaven as a place. And if we indeed do go up in heart and mind to the heavenly Jerusalem while we are sojourners in this world, truly will the truth of the saying be realized, "Behold, the half was not told me." And this may be a matter of experience with regard to the heavenly state itself even while we live in this material world, obscured though our perceptions are by the dulness of the material body. Experience realizes more than knowledge promises. Such was the testimony of the queen of Sheba; and such will be the testimony of every one who acquires for himself and in himself that wisdom which comes but by experience. "And she said to the king, It was a true report that I heard in mine own land of thy acts and of thy wisdom. Howbeit I believed not the words, until I came, and mine eyes had seen it: and, behold, the half was not told me: thy wisdom and prosperity exceedeth the fame which I heard." In every instance of indirect and direct knowledge the experience of the queen of Sheba is repeated. But far more is this the case with regard to spiritual knowledge. Those who know the truth of religion, the things of eternity, only by report, as others have declared and described them, know little and believe less. We must know these things for ourselves: we must see them with our own eyes and hear them with our own ears, before we can have any adequate conception or any well-grounded belief of what has been told us. And then shall we be convinced that the half was not told us—that the reality exceeds the fame of the Lord and His kingdom.
In a still more practical view—if we know the things of religion only intellectually or theoretically, we have but an indirect knowledge of and a weak faith in them. It is only when they become things of the will and of practice, that they become truly our own; that we see them in ourselves, and feel their power, and form a true estimate of their value and importance. Happy is it when the indirect and intellectual knowledge of these things leads us to seek that more intimate and practical acquaintance with them, which opens the mind to a perception of their reality and a sense of their grandeur. While the mind is content with a kind of hearsay knowledge of religion, how distant, and cold, and formal is the state and practice of the Christian! When, on the contrary, men hear and believe the report of the glad tidings, and are inspired with an earnest desire to know these things for themselves, though they may be far removed from the centre of light and perfection, yet the desire itself is a source of satisfaction as well as a means of
