He looked at the child lying there among the lilies, those spirituelle
blossoms so ethereal and perfect that they almost seem to have a soul.
Was that the thought, then? The little child laid under the earth like
the bulb of the lily, to see corruption and decay, would come forth,
even as the spirit of the lilies came up out of the darkness and mold
and decay of their tomb under-ground, and burst into the glory of their
beautiful blossoms, the perfection of what the ugly brown bulb was meant
to be. All the possibilities come to perfection! no accident or stain of
sin to mar the glorified character! a perfect soul in a perfect,
glorified body!

The wonder of the thought swelled within him, and sent a thrill through
him with the minister's voice as he read:

"So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this
mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the
saying that is written: Death is swallowed up in victory. O death where
is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, which
giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!"

If Courtland had been asked before he came there whether he believed in
a resurrection he might have given a doubtful answer. During the four
years of his college life he had passed through various stages of
unbelief along with a good many of his fellow-students. With them he had
made out a sort of philosophy of life which he supposed he believed. It
was founded partly upon what he _wanted_ to believe and partly upon what
he could _not_ believe, because he had never been able to reason it out.
Up to this time even his experience with the Presence had not touched
this philosophy of his which he had constructed like a fancy scaffolding
inside of which he expected to fashion his life. The Presence and his