thods; it has become so special a
business that we have most of us drifted quite beyond the horizon, like
the higher mathematicians, into questions that have no direct meaning
for the ordinary mind. We want a philosopher with a power of literary
expression, who can make some attempt to translate our results into
ordinary language." "Why could you not do it?" I said, "Ah," said he,
"that is not my line! It needs a certain missionary spirit. The thing
amuses and interests me; but I don't feel sure that it can be made
intelligible--and moreover, I do not think it would be wholly
profitable either. We have not determined enough; besides, ordinary
people had better act by intuition rather than by reason. There are,
too, many data missing, and perhaps the men of science will some day be
in a position to give us some, but they have not got far enough yet."

And then we plunged into the subject; but I will not attempt to
reproduce what was said, because I cannot remember it, and I should no
doubt grossly misrepresent my master. But he led me a fine dance.

It was like a walk I took the other day when I was staying in a
mountain country. A companion of mine, tired like myself of inaction,
went off with me, and we climbed a high mountain. For some hours we
walked in the clouds, in a close-shifting circle of mist, seeing
nothing but the little cairns that marked the way, and the bleak
grasses at our feet. Now and then we crossed a cold stream that came
bubbling into our dim circle, and raved hoarsely away in fretted
cataracts. Once we passed a black and silent tarn, with leaden waves
lapping among the stones. Once or twice, as we descended, the skirts of
the cloud drew up suddenly, and revealed black crags and rocky
bastions, and down below a great valley, with sheep grazing, pastures
within stone enclosures, little farms, and mountain bases red with
fern.

That was like my mental excursion to-day. It was very cold and misty on
the heights of my friend's mind. I recognised sometimes familiar
things, but all strangely enlarged and transfigured. Once or twice,
too, the whole veil flew up, and disclosed a familiar scene, which I
felt had some dim connection with the chill and vaporous height, but I
could not discern what it was; and when we came down again, the heights
were still impenetrably shrouded.

Once indeed my friend emitted a flash of scorn, which was when I
mentioned the religious commonplace that the desire of men's he