“Certainly not necessarily so,” answered Rutherford, and looking across at Godfrey, he went on,—“I don’t want to intrude on the ground of the biological section, but in the case of the caterpillar it does not follow, necessarily, that its next life shall be that of another and better caterpillar, and yet if it could answer the question it would be sure to say that it would be a better caterpillar, with perhaps a few more legs, for being accustomed to crawl all its life, it would scarcely be likely to imagine that a future phase would be flying in the sunshine, or the twilight, as the case might be, in an element of which it could not know the existence as a crawling grub, or resting pupa. This is a wonderful feature, and a few moments’ thought will show how exceedingly difficult it is to conceive of a glorified human being in any different shape to ourselves, without mutilating or degrading the race. If we take the mental qualities and glorify them, we but make the figure a brainy idiot, with a palsied body, his appearance revolting to every sense of feeling and delicacy. If we take his skill in work and glorify this by extending the power to exercise that skill and confer on man a multiplicity of arms and legs, we merely form a Hindoo idol; if his sight, and increase that, or in any way tamper with him mentally or physically, we make nothing more than a revolting heathen god. If we try to alter his shape and mode of movement, adding a few more limbs, and make him creep, crawl or fly, we degrade him. Finding all these things ruled out we take his limitless thought and soul, and, knowing that thought can travel up to God, we give him wings and make an angel of him, as mentioned at first—and that is man as he is, with scarcely any alteration; because no one can suggest any beautifying and ennobling variation apart from the present figure of man, and yet there _is_ a Power in Creation which is not figure or flesh. No man has seen this Power at any time, yet no one who has eyes or a thinking brain can do other than feel it everywhere. For instance, who can define ‘space’ in the universe? We get instrument after instrument, each more powerful than the last, and in each one we may begin another and more distant space where the previous instrument ended, and when we have discovered millions of miles of space in all directions, we are only at the beginning of it—if space can have a beginning—and our finite brains almost burst at the effort to grasp and actually realise ‘Infinity’—to understand how far it can extend and what it contains. We know the Spirit of God is there and is part of, and _in_, all Creation; but because no man has seen God, or can form the slightest idea of describing such a Spirit without being profane, he can only regard the conception in the abstract, as a ‘Spirit,’ or ‘Influence’—yet is it only ‘Influence’ that makes and orders the universe, our knowledge of which is so infinitesimal that the combined