The pure sense of the virgin Mother pierced the veil of flesh. From heaven's own light was caught a ray; and the spotless babe, Jesus, entered the habitation of the children of men.
"And Jesus advanced in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man." Earth's discords deceived him not, nor hid from him his Father's presence. His gaze, unchallenged by the senses' clamor, paused not at finity's bounds, nor embraced aught that was impure. Looking into the face of Spirit, his very consciousness of true Being rebuked error —and it fled. His wisdom was the wisdom taught in heaven. His realities were the mysteries hidden from the ages "since the foundation of the world."
By oft-repeated signs he meekly instructed the people. He would have had them judge not after the seeing of the eye or hearing of the ear. He would have had them look where he himself was looking; that they might see the things of which he told them. "But who believed his report?" Who understood him to whom Life was conscious power? Alas! "He was despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their face he was despised, and we esteemed him not."
