on science nor on religious belief, but upon sentiment. There are some who like to think themselves, and the race to which they belong, altogether exceptional; others delight in finding themselves reflected wherever they look. So far as Science has progressed and can return an answer to an enquiry that exceeds so far the bounds of our direct observation, it dissents from both orders of thought. The conditions of life are indeed narrow, special, restricted; intelligent, organic life must, relatively speaking, be a rarity in the universe, but we lack the information that would enable us to affirm with any confidence that such life is only to be found upon this world of ours. Heavy as the odds are against any particular world being an inhabited one, yet when the limitless extent of space is considered, and the innumerable numbers of stars and systems of stars, it seems but reasonable to conclude that though inhabited worlds are relatively rare, the absolute number of them may be considerable; considerable, if not at one particular moment of time, yet when the whole duration of the universe is admitted. But there is a religious question connected with this enquiry; one that goes down to the very roots of man's deepest thoughts and aspirations. As individuals our days on the Earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding; as individuals we pass and disappear; and though the race remains, yet as far as science can guide us and enable us to penetrate the future, the same lot awaits the race as well. Slowly but surely the water of a planet will combine with its substance or disappear into its crust. The cooling of the Sun, though it may be long delayed, would seem to be inevitable in the sequel. "Oh, life as futile then as frail. * * * * What hope of answer or redress? Behind the veil, behind the veil." It is to this veil that we are now brought. It seems impossible to believe that Life, so rare a fruit of the universe, intelligent Life, conscious Life, to which the long course of evolution has been so manifestly leading up all through the long ages, should have no better destiny than a final and hopeless extinction; that this Earth and all the efforts and aspirations of the long generations of men should have no worthier end than to swing, throughout the eternal ages, an empty, frozen heap of dust, circling round the extinct cinder that was once its Sun. If we look backward, we seem to discern clear signs of progress; if we look forward, we discern nothing but the veil. Science is but organized experience, and experience of the future we have none. There was a time when on this world there was no life; a time when life began. How did it begin? Under what conditions?