They walked on for some distance across the park till they came to a great instrument made to magnify the music in light. Here they paused and seated themselves.
“It will soon be night,” said the old man. “The tones are those of bleeding sunset. I came here last evening to listen to the musical struggle between the light of dying day and that of the coming stars. The sunlight had been playing a powerful solo; but the gentle chorus of the stars, led by the moon, was inexplicably touching. Light is the voice of immortality; it speaks in all things.”
An hour passed. It was growing dark.
“Tell me what immortality is,” said the boy. “What does life lead to?”
“We do not know,” replied the old man. “If we knew we would be infinite. Immortality is increasing happiness for all time; it is” —
A meteor shot across the sky. There was a burst of musical laughter among the singing stars. The old man bent over the boy’s face and kissed it. “Immortality,” said he—“immortality must be love immortal.”