it grow. This calm natural scene pleased my soul, and it returned to where it had left the clamoring women writhing in agitation and outcry, wishing to tell them what it had seen and to give them a lesson in largeness of heart. But what should startle it but a procession forming, and a crowd gathering, and lamps being lit, and candles raised. And priests with frozen stares, in drooping black vestments, swaying along as they chanted in monotonous, mournful voices that struck terror into souls. And the bier swaying behind them, tottering and unsteady, the people around it half-terrified, anxiety and constriction on their faces, as though they walked in the proces-sion of the Day of Judgment.

My soul turned its face away in pain and cried out to the people in a voice they did not hear: "Have done with these traditional displays, O people! You have been enslaved by worn-out customs, the worst of which is the passion for making things terrible, for magnifying events, and for casting dread into souls. You surround the happenings that occur every day with a frame of horror woven by your imagination, as though it pleased you to play upon the minds of the simple and to exploit their illusions and their emotions. O you self-appointed leaders, who have set yourselves up as guardians of superstitions and keepers of delusions! When will the reformer come who with his pickax will demolish your strongholds and strip from men's minds the veils of ignorance and stupidity!"

And my soul's voice was lost in the ether when there rose the voice of a young orator who stood in the crowd, preaching and eulogizing, rolling out grand, ringing phrases that charmed the listeners' ears and blinded them to their trite, hollow meanings.

My soul was on the point of silenc-ing him, and drew near to lay its

invisible fingers upon his mouth. But seeing the air around him charged, it feared to bring about what might come to no good end.

And my soul returned to God, this time downcast and sorrowful.

He had just finished going through papers that surrounded Him in heaps. But His face was serene as He wrote upon one of the files: "This project will be ready in its own good time."

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