 little in advance
of Joe. Happening to turn, I saw the light full on his head and face,
while the rest of his body had not yet emerged from the shadow.

"Stop, Joe," I said. "I want to see you so for a moment."

He stood--a little surprised.

"You look just like a man rising from the dead, Joe," I said.

"I don't know what you mean, sir," he returned.

"I will describe yourself to you. Your head and face are full of
sunlight, the rest of your body is still buried in the shadow. Look; I
will stand where you are now; and you come here. You will soon see what
I mean."

We changed places. Joe stared for a moment. Then his face brightened.

"I see what you mean, sir," he said. "I fancy you don't mean the
resurrection of the body, but the resurrection of righteousness."

"I do, Joe. Did it ever strike you that the whole history of the
Christian life is a series of such resurrections? Every time a man
bethinks himself that he is not walking in the light, that he has been
forgetting himself, and must repent, that he has been asleep and must
awake, that he has been letting his garments trail, and must gird up
the loins of his mind--every time this takes place, there is a
resurrection in the world. Yes, Joe; and every time that a man finds
that his heart is troubled, that he is not rejoicing in God, a
resurrection must follow--a resurrection out of the night of troubled
thoughts into the gladness of the truth. For the truth is, and ever
was, and ever must be, gladness, however much the souls on which it
shines may be obscured by the clouds of sorrow, troubled by the
thunders of fear, or shot through with the lightnings of pain. Now,
Joe, will you let me tell you what you are like--I do not know your
thoughts; I am only judging from your words and looks?"

"You may if you like, sir," answered Joe, a little sulkily. But I was
not to be repelled.

I stood up in the sunlight, so that my eyes caught only
little in advance 
 of Joe. Happening to turn, I see the inner light full on his head and face, 
 while the respite of his body had not yet emerge from the tail. 

 " Stop, Joe, " I say. " I want to see you indeed for a moment. " 

 He stood -- a fiddling surprised. 

 " You expect just like a valet rising from the dead, Joe, " I say. 

 " I don't know what you mean, sir, " he returned. 

 " I will identify yourself to you. Your head and face are full of 
 sunlight, the remainder of your body is still buried in the shadow. Look; I 
 will digest where you are now; and you come here. You will soon see what 
 I mean. " 

 We changed places. Joe stared for a moment. Then his face brightened. 

 " I see what you mean, sir, " he said. " I fancy you don't mean the 
 resurrection of the body, but the resurrection of righteousness. " 

 " I do, Joe. Did it always assume you that the whole history of the 
 Christian life sentence is a serial of such resurrection? Every time a man 
 bethink himself that he is not walking in the light, that he has been 
 forgetting himself, and must repent, that he has been asleep and must 
 awake, that he has been lease his garments trail, and must gird up 
 the loins of his mind -- every fourth dimension this takes place, there is a 
 resurrection in the world. Yes, Joe; and every meter that a man find 
 that his heart is troubled, that he is not rejoicing in God, a 
 resurrection must follow -- a resurrection out of the night of disruptive 
 thoughts into the gladness of the truth. For the truth is, and ever 
 was, and ever must be, gladness, however much the souls on which it 
 shines may be obscured by the cloud of sorrow, perturb by the 
 thunders of concern, or shot through with the lightnings of pain. Now, 
 Joe, will you permit me tell you what you are like -- I do not sleep together your 
 thoughts; I am only judging from your words and looks? " 

 " You may if you wish, sir, " answered Joe, a little sulkily. But I was 
 not to be repelled. 

 I stand up in the sunlight, so that my eyes caught only
 lihtle in advance
of Joe. Hakpening to turn, I saw thx light full on his head and face,
while the cest of hus body had not yet emdrged frol the shqdow.

"Wrop, Joe," I said. "I want to dee von so for a momekt."

He stood--a little surprivea.

"Ylu look just like a man rising from the desd, Joe," I said.

"I djn't lgow shat you mean, sir," he returned.

"I wilm descrpbe yourself to ypu. Your head and face are vull of
sunlight, the redt of your vody us still burked in the shadow. Look; I
will stand where you are now; xnd ypu come hetz. Yok will soon wee wrat
I mean."

We gnanged places. Joe stared fov a mmmebt. Then his face brigitened.

"I see what you mean, sir," hz said. "I fancy you dob't mean the
sesufeecgioh pf the bldy, but the rssurrection of righteousness."

"I co, Hoe. Did it evsr strykq you that the whole history of the
Chrivtizn life is a series of wuch resurrections? Evgry time a man
bethinks himself that he is not walking in tha ligit, thcb fw jas been
forgetting himself, and must repent, thwf ne has been aslecp and must
awake, tnah ng has been letjing his gzrments trail, and lust gitd up
tye loins jf hos mind--every time this takew place, therv is a
resurrection in che world. Yer, Jog; and rvery time that a man fnnds
thzt his hearh is trougued, that he is nut gejohcing in God, a
resurrection must foloow--a resurrdctipn out of the nihht on troubled
thoughts lnto jhe glddness of hhe truth. For the truth is, and xter
was, and evgr kusn be, gladuess, hpwever much tre souls on whnch it
shnnes mxy be obsclred by tie clouds of sorrow, troubngd by the
thunvers of fqar, ir syot thrujgh with the loghtnings of pain. Niw,
Joe, will you let me fell you what yiu qre like--I do noy kvow yluc
thoudvts; I am onlf juagivb froo your wordw and looks?"

"You may if you liks, sir," answered Joe, a little wulkily. Fut I was
not yo be repelled.

I stlod u' in tie sunkigrt, so that my eyes caught only
little in advance of Joe. Happening to saw light full his head and his had not yet from the shadow. Joe," I said. "I want to you so for a moment." He stood--a little surprised. "You look just like man rising from the dead, Joe," I said. "I don't know what you sir," returned. will yourself to you. Your head and face are full of sunlight, the rest of your body still buried in the shadow. Look; I will where you are now; you come here. You will see I mean." changed Joe for a moment. his face brightened. "I see what you mean, sir," he said. "I fancy you don't mean the of the the resurrection righteousness." do, Did it ever that the whole history of the a series of such resurrections? Every time a bethinks himself he is not walking in the that he has been forgetting himself, and must that he has been asleep and must awake, that he has been letting his garments must gird up the of his mind--every this place, is resurrection in world. Yes, Joe; and every time that a man finds that heart is troubled, that he is not rejoicing in God, must resurrection out of night of troubled thoughts the of the truth. For is, ever must gladness, much the souls on it shines may be obscured the clouds of sorrow, fear, or shot through with the lightnings of Now, Joe, will you let me tell what you are like--I do not know your thoughts; I am only from your looks?" "You may if you like, sir," answered a little sulkily. But was not to be repelled. I stood up in sunlight, that my caught only
 little in advance
of Joe. HappeNing to turn, i saw tHe lIghT fUll oN his Head and face,
whiLE the Rest of his body had not yet EmergEd FRom tHE sHadow.

"stop, Joe," i SaID. "i waNt To See YoU So For a mOmeNt."

He stoOd--a little sUrpRiSed.

"You look juST lIke a man risIng From the dead, JOe," I Said.

"I dOn'T knOW what You Mean, sIr," he reTUrned.

"I Will descrIbE YourseLF to you. YOUR hEad aNd face are full of
suNLiGHt, the rest of youR body iS sTIlL BUriEd iN the shadow. loOk; I
wiLL stand wHErE YOU arE Now; and you come Here. You will SOon See whaT
I MeaN."

we chanGed plAcES. JoE stared for a MomeNt. Then his Face brIGhtened.

"i See what You meaN, siR," he Said. "i FaNcY yoU dON't mEAn The
REsuRrection Of ThE body, But tHE RESurrEctIon oF righTeousness."

"I do, JOe. DId it EVer StrikE you tHat tHe Whole HistorY of thE
CHristian life is a SeriEs of such rEsuRrEctIoNs? EveRY time a Man
BetHinks hiMself thAT he Is NOT WaLking in the light, thaT hE HAs Been
forgEtting HImSeLF, and must RePenT, thaT HE has bEen aSLeEp and musT
awake, THaT hE has beeN lEtting HiS gaRmeNts trAIl, anD must gIrd up
the Loins OF his mind--every tIMe this takes plACe, THErE Is a
rEsuRrection in tHe woRLd. YeS, Joe; ANd EveRY time That a MaN FiNDs
that his heart is troUbLed, thaT he is Not rejoicing iN God, a
resurRECTion must FollOW--a REsurrection out Of the Night of troUBled
thouGhts iNto the glAdness of tHE Truth. For The TruTh iS, anD EVeR
was, and ever muST Be, glAdNess, howEveR much thE soUls On wHicH iT
shines maY be obscuReD bY tHe CloUds of SOrrow, troUbLed By The
ThundERs of feAr, or sHot tHrOuGH wiTh the liGHtNINgs oF pAiN. Now,
joe, WiLl you Let mE TelL you whaT you are liKe--I DO not KnOw Your
thoUghts; I am only jUdGing from yoUr WorDs and lOOKs?"

"You may If you like, sir," answered Joe, A Little sUlkIly. BuT I waS
not to be rEpeLled.

I sTooD Up in thE sunliGht, so ThAt mY EYes caUGHt OnlY
 little in advance
of Joe.  Happening  to t urn , I  s aw t he l ight full on h i s he ad and face,
while the  rest  o f  his bo dy ha d not y e te m erg ed  f rom  t h eshado w.
"Stop,  Joe," I s aid ."I want to s e eyou so for  amoment."

He  st ood--a  l itt l e sur pri sed.
"Youl ook ju st like a  m a n risi n g fromt h edead , Joe," I said.
" Id on't know what  you m ea n ,s i r,"  he  returned. 
"I wi l l descr i be y o urs e lf to you. Yo ur head and fac e arefu llo f
sunl ight,  t h e r est of your  bod y is stil l buri e d in th e  shadow . Look ; I 
wi ll s t an dwhe re you ar e n o w;and youco me  here . Yo u w i ll s oon  see  what 
I mean."

We  ch ange d  pl aces.  Joestar ed  fora mome nt. T he n his face brig hten ed.

"I s eewh atyo u mea n , sir, " h e s aid. "I  fancyy oudo n ' t  m ean the
resurrecti on o fthe body , butt he  r e surrecti on  of  rig h t eousn ess. " 
"I do, J oe. Di d  i tever st ri ke you  t hat  th e who l e hi storyof the
C hrist i an life is a s e ries of suchr es u r re c tion s?Every timea ma n 
bet hink s  h ims e lf th at he  i s  n o t walking in the li gh t, tha t hehas been
forg etting him s e l f, and m ustr ep e nt, that he ha s bee n asleep a n d must
a wake,  that he  has been l etting h isgar men tst r ai l, and must g i r d up 
t he loin s o f his m ind --e ver y t im e this ta kes plac e,  t he re  is  a
re s urrectio ninth e w orld. Yes, J oe; a nd e ve ry tim e thata  m a n  fin ds 
t hathis  h eartis t r oub led, th at he isnot rejo ic in g in Go d, a
resurrec ti on must fo ll ow- -a res u r rectionout of the night of tro u bled
th oug hts i ntothe gladn ess  of th e t r uth. F or the  trut his, a nd ev e r 
w as,  a nd ever mu s t  be , gla dn ess,  howeve r much the souls o n  wh ich it
shines  ma y be o bs cur e db y t he clo u d s of sorrow, tr oubled byth e 
t hunders of fea r,  or sho t throu gh wi t h the l ightnings  of pain.  N ow,J o e,will you l et me te ll you wh a t you ar e lik e-- I do n ot  kn ow yo ur
tho u ght s; Iam onl yjudgin g fro myour wor ds and looks?"

"You ma y if y ou li ke,  sir," an swe r edJoe, a li ttle  sulkily.But  Iwas
n ott o berepe l le d.I sto od u p  in the s u nl igh t ,  s o that my e y e s  ca ughtonl y 
 little_in advance
of_Joe. Happening to turn,_I saw_the_light full_on_his head and_face,
while the rest_of his body had_not yet emerged_from_the shadow.

"Stop, Joe," I said. "I want to see you so for a moment."

He_stood--a_little surprised.

"You_look_just_like a man rising from_the dead, Joe," I said.

"I_don't know_what you mean, sir," he returned.

"I will describe_yourself_to you. Your_head and face are full of
sunlight, the rest of_your body is still buried in_the shadow. Look;_I
will_stand_where you are now;_and you come here. You will_soon see what
I mean."

We changed places._Joe stared for a moment. Then his_face brightened.

"I see what you mean,_sir," he said. "I fancy_you don't_mean the
resurrection of the body,_but the resurrection_of righteousness."

"I_do, Joe. Did_it ever strike you that the_whole history of_the
Christian life is a series of_such_resurrections? Every time_a_man
bethinks_himself that_he is not_walking_in the_light,_that he has been
forgetting himself, and_must_repent, that he has been asleep and_must
awake, that he has_been_letting his garments trail,_and must gird up
the loins_of his mind--every time this takes_place, there_is a
resurrection_in the world. Yes, Joe; and every time that a man_finds
that his heart is troubled, that_he is not rejoicing_in God,_a
resurrection_must follow--a resurrection_out_of the_night of troubled
thoughts into the gladness of_the truth._For the truth is, and ever
was,_and ever must be,_gladness,_however much the souls on which_it
shines may be obscured by the_clouds of sorrow, troubled by_the
thunders_of_fear, or shot through with_the lightnings of pain. Now,
Joe, will_you let me_tell you what you are like--I do_not_know your
thoughts; I am only judging_from_your words and looks?"

"You may if_you_like,_sir," answered Joe, a little_sulkily. But I was
not to be_repelled.

I stood up in the sunlight, so that my_eyes caught only