ation, can scarcely be said to walk erect, but only to creep. "You must learn to creep before you can walk" is an old adage. It is as true of regeneration as of physical life. Though we have learned now, in a higher sense, to live, though we have gained a consciousness of the Lord's life, though we begin to realize our goodness and truth not as our own but as the Lord's in us, this life, this consciousness, this realization, in comparison with what they will be, are still feeble. Before, we were not even living souls. Though now endued with life, we are yet mere babes in Christ. We can creep, not walk. This is at first; afterward we will do better.
It is worthy of notice how gradually this parable of regeneration leads us on. It recognizes no sudden changes in our gathering strength. Like the growth of a tree, however certain it may be, it is imperceptible. We cannot look into ourselves and say , "So we were yesterday and so much further we are to-day." Much less can we say, "We were a child of the devil a moment ago, but at this minute we are a child of God." But it is development, unfolding imperceptibly, but not ceasing. It is creeping before walking, learning before living, the one merging by invisible openings into the other, and that all the way through.
And now it follows on in our text concerning the birds. "Let the waters bring forth abundantly the
