the lights of heaven, and we dreamed also of the Infinite.
"Doctor," said a bearded stranger, who had remained silent all the evening, "I want to ask you a question. I have lived in the West Indies, New Zealand, Canada, Mexico; and I am something of a traveler. I have a good memory, too. I seldom forget the sight of a city I have visited. I remember every street and nook I have ever seen. How is it, then, that I dream continually of places which I am positive I have never seen, and hear in my sleep a tongue spoken that I have never heard while awake in any part of the world?"
The Doctor smiled. "Can you describe," he asked, "the places you see in your dreams?"
"I can, because I have dreamed of them more than a hundred times. Sometimes I do not dream of them for a year at a time; and then again I will dream of them every night for a week. And I always hear that strange tongue spoken.
"I sail to these places from a vast port, surrounded by huge wharfs of cut stone—white and even-worn by the friction of a mighty traffic. It is all sun there and light and air. There
