He is very fond of children, and one day when I was sitting unseen in the house of a friend of mine on earth, and the little son of the house fell down and hurt himself and wept bitterly, my great Teacher, whom I have seen command literally “legions of angels,” bent down in his tenuous form, which he was then wearing, and soothed and comforted the child. When I asked him about it afterwards, he said that he remembered many childhoods of his own, in other lands, and that he could still feel in memory the sting of physical pain and the shock of a physical fall. He told me that children suffer more than their elders realise, that the bewilderment felt in gradually adjusting to a new and frail and growing body is often the cause of intense suffering. He said that the constant crying of some small babies is caused by their half-discouragement at the herculean task before them--the task of moulding a body through which their spirit can work. He told me a story of one of his former incarnations, before he became a Master, and what a hard struggle he had to build a body. He could remember even the smallest details of that far-away life. One day his mother punished him for something which he had not really done, and when he denied the supposed wrongful act, she chided him for untruthfulness, not realising--good woman though she was--the essential truth of the soul to whom she had given form. He told me that from that childish impression, centuries ago, he could date his real battle against injustice, which had helped to develop him as a friend and teacher of mankind. Then he went on to speak of the importance of our recovering the memory of other lives, in order that we may see the roads by which our souls have come. As a rule, the great teachers are reticent about their own past, and they only refer to it when some point in their experience can be used to illustrate a principle, and thus help another to grasp the principle. It encourages a groping soul to know that one who has attained a great height has been through the same trials that now perplex him. LETTER XLVII ONLY A SONG WILL you listen to another song, or chant, or whatever you choose to call it, of that amazing angel whom we know as the Beautiful Being? Why do you fear to question me? I am the great answerer of questions; Though my answers are often symbols, yet words themselves are only symbols. I have not visited you for a season, for when I am around, you can think of nothing else, and it is well that you should think of those who have trodden the path you are treading. You can pattern your ways on those of others, you can hardly pattern your ways on mine. I am a light in the darkness--my name you do not need to know; A name is a limitation, and I refuse to be limited.