Look into life, and watch the growth of character. Men are not what they seem to the outward eye--mere machines moving about in customary occupations--productive labourers of food and wearing apparel--slaves from morn to night at taskwork set them by the Wealth of Nations. They are the Children of God. The soul never sleeps--not even when its wearied body is heard snoring by people living in the next street. All the souls now in this world are for ever awake; and this life, believe us, though in moral sadness it has often been rightly called so, is no dream. In a dream we have no will of our own, no power over ourselves; ourselves are not felt to be ourselves; our familiar friends seem strangers from some far-off country; the dead are alive, yet we wonder not; the laws of the physical world are suspended, or changed, or confused by our phantasy; Intellect, Imagination, the Moral Sense, Affection, Passion, are not possessed by us in the same way we possess them out of that mystery: were Life a Dream, or like a Dream, it would never lead to Heaven. Again, then, we say to you, look into life and watch the growth of character. In a world where the ear cannot listen without hearing the clank of chains, the soul may yet be free as if it already inhabited the skies. For its Maker gave it LIBERTY OF CHOICE OF GOOD OR OF EVIL; and if it has chosen the good it is a King. All its faculties are then fed on their appropriate food provided for them in nature. It then knows where the necessaries and the luxuries of its life grow, and how they may be gathered--in a still sunny region inaccessible to blight--"no mildewed ear blasting his wholesome brother." In the beautiful language of our friend Aird,-- "And thou shalt summer high in bliss upon the Hills of God." Go, read the EXCURSION then--venerate the PEDLAR--pity the SOLITARY--respect the PRIEST, and love the POET.