out, like Archytas, the earth and the sea, and number the sands on the
shore that divides them, if the end of this wisdom be a handful of dust
sprinkled over a skull!

"'Nec quidquam tibi prodest
Aerias tentasse dornos, animoque rotundum
Percurrisse polum naorituro.'

"Your book is a proof of the soul that you fail to discover. Without a
soul, no man would work for a Future that begins for his fame when the
breath is gone from his body. Do you remember how you saw that little
child praying at the grave of her father? Shall I tell you that in her
simple orisons she prayed for the benefactor,--who had cared for the
orphan; who had reared over dust that tomb which, in a Christian
burial-ground, is a mute but perceptible memorial of Christian hopes; that
the child prayed, haughty man, for you? And you sat by, knowing nought of
this; sat by, amongst the graves, troubled and tortured with ghastly
doubts, vain of a reason that was sceptical of eternity, and yet shaken
like a reed by a moment's marvel. Shall I tell the child to pray for you
no more; that you disbelieve in a soul? If you do so, what is the
efficacy of prayer? Speak, shall I tell her this? Shall the infant pray
for you never more?"

I was silent; I was thrilled.

"Has it never occurred to you, who, in denying all innate perceptions as
well as ideas, have passed on to deductions from which poor Locke, humble
Christian that he was, would have shrunk in dismay,--has it never
occurred to you as a wonderful fact, that the easiest thing in the world
to teach a child is that which seems to metaphysical schoolmen the