the body of the living Christ, built of the hearts and souls of men and women out of every nation and every creed, through all time and over all the world, redeemed alike from Judaism, paganism, and all the false Christianities that darken and dishonor the true. Cosmo, I say, knelt, and looked up. Then will awoke, and he lifted up his heart, sending aloft his soul on every holy sail it could spread, on all the wings it could put forth, as if, through the visible, he would force his way to the invisible. Softly through the blue night came a gentle call: “Cosmo.” He started, not with fear, looked round, but saw no one. “Cosmo!” came the call again. The sky was shining with the stars, and that other light that might be its own; other than the stars and the sky he saw nothing. He looked all round his narrow horizon, the edge of the hollow between him and the sky, where the heaven and the earth met among the stars and the grass, and the stars shimmered like glow-worms among the thin stalks: nothing was there; its edge was unbroken by other shape than grass, daisies, ox-eyes, and stars. A soft dreamy wind came over the edge, and breathed once on his cheek. The voice came again-- “Cosmo!” It seemed to come from far away, so soft and gentle was it, and yet it seemed near. “It has called me three times!” said Cosmo, and rose to his feet. There was the head of Simon Peter, as some called him, rising like a dark sun over the top of the hollow! In the faint light Cosmo knew him at once, gave a cry of pleasure, and ran to meet him. “You called so softly,” said Cosmo, “I did not know your voice.” “And you are disappointed! You thought it was a voice from some region beyond this world! I am sorry. I called softly, because I wanted to let you know I was coming, and was afraid of startling you.” [Illustration: A VAULTED INFINITUDE.] “I confess,” replied Cosmo, “a little hope was beginning to flutter, that perhaps I was called from somewhere in the unseen--like Samuel, you know; but I was too glad to see you to be much disappointed. I do sometimes wonder though, that, if there is such a world beyond as we sometime talk about, there should be so little communication between it and us. When I am out in the still time of this world, and there is nothing to interfere,--when I am not even thinking, so as to close my doors, why should never anything come? Never in my life have I had one whisper from that world.”