“Long ago, in the ages long before man was ever known upon the earth, the spirit world moved and lived. From eternity into eternity, so the great wave ran, just as it ever has and will do. Man cannot grasp it, no more than a lifeless seed can understand the flower it brings to light and life. We were happy, in that half-unconscious youth that clings through eternity. Springing into life and form and power by our own strength and guiding intellect, glorious and true in every conception, with other life springing up around us, giving and taking, now one thing, now another, a mist, a wraith, unconsciousness of feeling or of form, then again resplendent, hard or brilliant, full of consciousness or life. And so the ages rolled in this corner of space in which we lived. Sometimes we would roam abroad as now into the far, far fields of space, ever with that courteous interchange of hospitality which is the birthright of all our race. We were friends, friends as only those born as gods can ever be. To live with us was to love and to respect. But this has nothing to do with humanity, I must advance. “The blind forces of Nature were our servants—I have shown you how. Pure intellect and inanimate material produced by it mixed together, devoid of feeling and the higher life. Then because experiment and movement are a part of our being we designed the worlds. Some gave one thing, some another, and at last the mighty cast was ready. Then came the great convocation, and the question, whom to put upon these spheres. Those ours previously we retained, but those thrown off from us were a prize for the highest intellect to settle. “I remember well the great assembly seated on thrones which were no thrones of preparation, but the outcome of that dazzling light which draws round all of us. “Then Vestasian rose—you know him—Fairest of the Fair—Lightest of Light—the best-beloved of all. He was more beautiful than the sun, and stronger, with what seemed to be all the soft graces that combine in woman, all the clear intellect and strength of man. I doubt that this soft grace was but the flimsy covering that hid the great difference betwixt such as he and me. Till then he had been my best-beloved brother next to Plucritus, who, once having sprung into birth with me, was like myself. “But to return. “In the clear silence that accompanied his rising Vestasian spoke,— “‘It is our nature to be kind and courteous. Nature, our humble servant, needs some reward for all these ages of untiring work. We can but repay her labours with a crown made in our own image, built on our lines, endued with all our intellect and reason, called by the simple name of Man.’ “You know his voice, as sweet as any woman’s, yet with the deep note ringing in it that compels a hearing, even from those who would not hear.