combined; they experimented on every limb and sense, every nerve and muscle and tissue, and they corrected every defect in it before they reached the final act. At last the work was completed to their satisfaction, and they braced themselves for the most exhausting task of all. How were they to make of this image a living creature? I smiled as I thought of the impossibility of what was evidently before them. Yet they seemed perfectly calm in their preparation for the final endeavour. Only there was a subdued volcanic energy in their systems that seemed to show that they considered it a task almost superhuman. They encouraged each other, and we could see them infuse new magnetism into their bodies by means of machinery of great power. Their faces were filled with the glow of a rapturous appeal to heaven. They were putting themselves into connection with some being they adored invisible to us, some impalpable fountain of life. They took the hands of the image they had formed, and raised it; they placed it between them, so that it should be in the path of all energy that passed from one to the other. They laid their hands upon its head and nerve-centres, and at the same time the pleading rapture on their faces rose almost to trance. Their spirits seemed to go out from them. They looked like two in dream. A faint flush came upon the cheeks of the image between them, and died out. Again their souls seemed to return to full consciousness, and the rapture grew upon their faces. Again the signal of life dawned on the countenance of the image. Throb by throb they gave of their own souls to his, meantime drawing from some fountain of life and spirit unseen by us. Slowly the eyelids rose, and the lips moved. There was true life in the image. The three walked as in trance, yet with the joy of creation pulsing through them. The child of their imagination was like both, yet independent, and more beautiful to look upon. Love broke through the new being and theirs in wild pulsations. The three awoke to a new life. And then the scene vanished, and I seemed to have but dreamed. Yet there was the deep valley with the sunset rays shooting through it; and up the slopes rested thousands of flesh-and-blood Limanorans beside me. A few thoughts, and I knew that it was no dream. Was it magic? I could not believe that such a people would indulge in mere trifling with life and the powers above life. My spirit of enquiry stirred my guardians, and I soon knew from them that this was the first publication of a new book, called Human Sculpture. The deep valley with its apparatus was the theatre of futurition, where every imaginative foresight was first put into a form that would appeal to the whole people. It was called Loomiefa or the display of pioneering.