before me were no less with me in my unseen traveling. Every now and
then a transfer would take place, and some of the moving shadows in
the street would begin walking about in the clear interior light. The
children of the city, crouched in the doorways or racing through the
hurrying multitude and flashing lights, began their elfin play again in
my heart; and that was because I had heard these tiny outcasts shouting
with glee. I wondered if the glitter and shadow of such sordid things
were thronged with magnificence and mystery for those who were unaware
of a greater light and deeper shade which made up the romance and
fascination of my own life. In imagination I narrowed myself to their
ignorance, littleness, and youth, and seemed for a moment to flit amid
great uncomprehended beings and a dim wonderful city of palaces.

Then another transfer took place, and I was pondering anew, for a face
I had seen flickering through the warm wet mist haunted me; it entered
into the realm of the interpreter, and I was made aware by the pale
cheeks and by the close-shut lips of pain, and by some inward knowledge,
that there the Tree of Life was beginning to grow, and I wondered why it
is that it always springs up through a heart in ashes; I wondered
also if that which springs up, which in itself is an immortal joy, has
knowledge that its shoots are piercing through such anguish; or, again,
if it was the piercing of the shoots which caused the pain, and if
every throb of the beautiful flame darting upward to blossom meant
the perishing of some more earthly growth which had kept the heart in
shadow.

Seeing, too, how many thoughts spring up from such a simple thing, I
questioned whether that which started the impulse had any share in the
outcome, and if these musings of mine in any way affected their subject.
I then began thinking about those secret ties on which I have speculated
before, and in the darkness my heart grew suddenly warm and glowing,
for I had chanced upon one of these shining imaginations which are the
wealth of those who travel upon the hidden ways. In describing that
which comes to us all at once, there is a difficulty in choosing between
what is first and what is last to say; but, interpreting as best I
can, I seemed to behold the onward movement of a Light, one among many
lights, all living, throbbing, now dim with perturbations and now again
clear, and all subtly woven together, outwardly in some more shadowy
shin