All the same I like Parsons; they think nobly of the Universe,
and believe in Souls and Eternal Happiness. And some of them, I
am told, believe in Angels--that there are Angels who guide our
footsteps, and flit to and fro unseen on errands in the air
about us.




_The Sound of a Voice_


As the thoughtful Baronet talked, as his voice went on sounding
in my ears, all the light of desire, and of the sun, faded from
the Earth; I saw the vast landscape of the world dim, as in an
eclipse; its populations eating their bread with tears, its rich
men sitting listless in their palaces, and aged Kings crying
"Vanity, Vanity, all is Vanity!" lugubriously from their
thrones.




_What Happens_


"Yes," said Sir Thomas, speaking of a modern novel, "it
certainly does seem strange; but the novelist was right. Such