indeed enshrouded by the night. It seemed
colder too, now that the orb had gone, and insensibly he felt in some
way more alone. True, there were the stars, still twinkling in the
firmament, but they seemed far away, like his own future. Still Leon
dreamed on.

As he could not lift the veil which parted him from what was to be, he
wandered back in thought, recalling what had been.

The Theosophist says that man has lived before upon this planet,
inhabiting many corporeal forms, and drifting through many earthly
existences. The Sceptic cries: "Ridiculous! but, granting the
postulate, of what advantage is it to have lived before, or to live
again, if in each earth-life I cannot recall those that have gone
before?" Yet, without arguing for Theosophy, might I not remind this
sceptic that he enjoys his life to-day, even though he might find it
difficult to recall yesterday, or the day before, or a week, a month,
a year ago? How many of us in looking backward over life's path, can
summon up the phantoms of more than a few days? Days on which occurred
some events of special moment?

The first landmark along his life's path, which stood out conspicuous
among Leon's garnered memories, was his first visit to the church.
Margaret Grath had dressed him in his brightest frock, curled his
hair, and placed upon his head his newest bonnet. His heart had
swelled with pride, as he trotted beside the tall, gaunt, New England
woman, who walked with long strides, and held his hands, lest he
should lag behind. But though his legs grew tired, he offered no
rebellion, for he had often looked upon the red brick building, with
wondering eyes, and his ears had oft been mystified at the tolling of
the bell which swung and sounded, though moved by no hand that he
could see, nor means that he could understand. He marvelled at the
outside of the building, its steeple marking it a house apart from
every other in the village, and he long had yearned to see it from
within. On this day, to which his thought now turned, he had his wish.
He followed Miss Grath down the aisle, clinging to her skirts, a
little frightened at the people sitting straight and stiff, and he was
rejoiced when he found himself at last on a comfortable cushion in the
pew. The cushion was a treat; being his first experience with such
luxury, and confirmed his idea that the church was better than other
houses. Presently he began to be accustomed to his surroundings,
having viewed a