Far up on this mountain, in the stillness of "the absolute monarchy of Cold," Seraphitus says to his companion, "Standing here . . . do you not feel within you something deeper far than mind, grander than enthusiasm, of greater energy than will? Are you not conscious of emotions whose interpretation is no longer in us? Do you not feel your pinions? Let us pray,"

Truly, when growing realization of the nature of our own being has brought us nearer and nearer to its source -- brought us away from externals that are indrawn as we take our upward flight, the time comes when our wings, governed by the impulse which cannot cease, once is established, seek to bear us to the very presence of the omnipotent I Am; that presence which is reached only through the absolute monarch of the higher love.

How wonderful has Balzac, in this opening scene of the book, set before us the aspiration which cannot be content with aught less than the highest; the momentum of the soul which impels it onward; the gateway which lies beyond those which intellect holds the key; the purity of desire that is the prayer of the soul nearly ready to be crowned with the "weight of glory" that is its divine heritage! Throughout this book we see the inability of lesser things -- less than the Divine Ideal, to hold the soul back from its higher home. Whatever the aspect they present, they have no power to charm. To finish the