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Death, whether it be day or night, overtook Bertram in the mountain

fastness, and Atma knew once more that the human soul is lonely, which

he had been fain to doubt or deny in the pleasant delusion of

friendship He lived alone, and, after a while, with returning ave way to bitter reflection on these, his wasted

days, though knowing himself unable still to take up the broken thread

of active existence But, growing stronger, he was at last able to

perceive that this apparently barren season was the best harvest tiions, he was at last

alone with God His battles were sore to fight, the solid earth seeone from beneath his feet, and the heavens were become an illusion

There was a time when he cried out that "all men are liars," as we have

all cried, but the instinct of the soul happily arrested hiely true that he who loses faith in reat heart of the Race,

recoiling froainst his kind--a suggestion of the unity underlying all created

things This the best religions have known, and have founded on it a law

that he who loves God ain in heart to forgive his felloho had so sorely

sinned against hi on their ways he pitied them, and knew

that the true attitude towards humanity is one of pity He pitied men in

their crimes, in their unbeliefs, and in their faiths, and presently he

saw in these faiths which he had decried a spiritual beauty His own

creed, grown hateful to him as the vainest of delusions, reasserted its