One said it was an empty experience which he would not go through again for any consideration. The other said he had had a good time, had got as much pleasure out of life as any one, but that was all over now; he was getting old and full of aches and pains, and found no fun in living any more. The jumping off place had to be reached some day, and that would put an end to it. His friend said that was the rub--the leap in the dark. For his part he was disgusted with life, but abhorred death. He saw no good in either one or the other, and was inclined to believe that we are all victims of a tremendous cheat. If he could see anything to look forward to beyond a damp bed in the ground he could go on all right, but nobody knew anything about it--not even those who earned their bread talking about it in pulpits. They said they believed certain things, but they didn’t know any more than other folks. He wanted solid information. The other tossed his head to show his indifference to the subject. He said it was something he had never thought about at all in his good times, and now he guessed he wouldn’t bother with it for his few remaining days. Thus was the most important question that faces man disposed of by one whose opinion on any topic pertaining to commercial or political interests would be received with respect by his fellow townsmen and have weight with them. But both he and his friend had lived to venerable years without ever learning what they themselves were. Of that knowledge, which includes all other knowledge, they were as ignorant as earth worms. They had acquired what is miscalled education; had been factors in public affairs, and figures in social life, and yet never learned that they were not bodies to go to pieces some day like a broken machine, but spirits, with a life whose issues are spiritual and eternal, not material and perishable. To one, life had meant a chance to have a good time; to the other emptiness, because he had had no good time. Neither dreamed that its meaning is in the unseen, not in the seen,--in what they had become, not what they possessed or enjoyed. They lived in dense spiritual darkness, yet knew it not, and they were but two out of millions in the same condition. Hearing their pathetic though unconscious confession of ignorance, Mrs. Doring wondered if little Isabel’s short, loving, trusting life was not more complete than theirs of long years full of impermanent and illusory importance. She wished she could tell them what she had learned of life and its meaning and future, but, alas! she had already been stoned and knew the danger of letting her light shine before those who had not become as little children--receptive, willing to learn. CHAPTER XVI. THE STORY OF ONE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD.