Man is an atom in that grand temple of music--the solar system. Through him passes every movement or sound propagated by planet or sun--and all the lesser movements to which they give rise. We actually participate in the total vibration of solar life, but are blind to this because the brain consciousness is attached to a few external sound waves and sets up a conscious focus amid these. A musician will tell us how easily the mind may select a single orchestral instrument and follow its melody to the exclusion of the adjacent parts. How truly this illustrates our separate personal lives! It is impossible to lose anything by detachment from the personal grooves to which so much importance is attached. We can only fall into That which gives the utmost blessing. That silence and solitariness which usually follow the storm of true effort, is the womb of fuller life. The old life has passed, the new not yet born, and we are apt to despond. But courage and patience will surely lead to living joy, for the new life dawns when the inner self is ready to receive it. Right thought, right feeling, and unending patience, will without doubt make all things clear, and from the heart will arise the total music of life, vibrating in tune with all that is. THE ASTRAL BODY: by H. A. W. Coryn, M.D., M.R.C.S. It is safe to say that science will never accept the astral body--by that name: at any rate not until philosophy accepts the prototypal _Ideas_ of Plato. Yet the evidence, if not for them, then for something discharging the same function and therefore after all for them--is irresistible. One thinks first of the growth of living animal tissues in glass jars, demonstrated at the Rockefeller Institute. Removed from the body to which they belong and placed in nutritive fluids which they can absorb, they attain a size that would constitute them fatal diseases if they were _in situ_ at home. They would in fact be malignant growths of highly organized types. Why _don't_ they grow to that size? Because "the nervous system" restrains them within the limit of usefulness. How does "the nervous system" know that limit? Has it a picture in its "mind," a plan according to which it works, according to which it variously restricts or encourages? When some of the molluscs are cut in two each half grows the part it has lost, the head an after-part, the after-part a head. Two animals result, each exactly like the original. As the severed cells are called upon to perform and do perform new and unexpected work, what and where is the architectural plan by which they do it?