the mind seems almost brought into contact with that invisible universe; and when, more than at any other period, it longs to know something of its future home, and to hear some of those ". unspeakable things which it is not lawful for a man to utter."

SOPHRON. There can be no subject more interesting, perhaps, also, more perilous,-than the union and sympathy of the seen with the unseen world. Certainly none more interesting; for who would not wish to know somewhat of those beings by whom he is daily, hourly, acted upon? who seem to have the power of suggesting thoughts or plans, constantly and as a matter of every-day occurrence, and occasionally of interfering for our physical safety in a, perhaps not strictly supernatural, but still most marvellous, manner: beings, too, whom we hope hereafter to possess as our associates for ever; and who, actually at this time, are the associates of many whom we have loved and lost. And perilous also; for much to pry into the concerns of that world is to attempt to raise the curtain which GOD has drawn, and which death only is appointed to rend for ever. We are somewhat like men who by night are treading some dangerous path, a precipice on each side: while all is dark, they can proceed safely; show them the light, and with light comes certain destruction.

PISTUS. And yet it is curious that, care as little B 2

as they may for it in other ways, all present intercourse with the unseen world will be a subject to interest every one; variously indeed, according to the various character of the mind, but still really. And why not? It is an article in the Church's Creed; it is a main point of her teaching. Common minds will feel and express it in vulgar ways; and tales of witchcraft, apparitions, prophetic dreams, and the like, will never want hearers and believers. Others, while not rejecting these things, will rather fix their thoughts on that communion which, at this very moment, they are holding with the departed faithful of all ages; on the illapses of thought which have no natural origin; on all those mysterious proofs, -the more mysterious, the more real,-that we are knit together in one fellowship with the inhabitants of a better country, that is, a heavenly.

EUSEBIA. The Japanese belief, that birds of Paradise are the souls of doves, is a good type of that feeling.

"In the bright fables of an eastern land,
Where song and moral travel hand in hand,
They say, the dove laments not as alone,
That lingers here, her sweet companions gone :
She knows that, denizen'd in brighter skies,
They shine as glorious birds of Paradise :
And though she may not see their sportive rings,
Nor the fleet glancing of their rainbow wings,
(For earthlier vision clogs her earthlier eye,)
To know and feel them near is ecstasy.

And so, methinks, comes such a season, fraught
With heav'nlier communing and purer thought,
What time we linger o'er the quiet rest

Of those, the lovely once, and now the blest!"

PISTUS. A very pretty fable, and most true in its antitype. In a thousand ways, clogged and shackled though it be by its mate, the mind will assert its native powers, and will communicate without the aid of its grosser companion. Undoubtedly it does so towards the living; and to my mind undoubtedly also towards the departed. What is commoner, for instance, than to feel all one's affection awakened, for no assignable cause, in a moment, for some absent person whom we love, but of whom we have neither been speaking nor hearing? Again: it has passed into a proverb, that if a totally unexpected visiter arrives, those to whom he presents himself have been at that moment talking of him. And so, if two friends are in conversation on a given topic, and an entirely different train of thoughts suggests itself to one, it is almost certain to present itself also to the other, even though no common external object should have given rise to it.

SOPHRON. Very true. It is by noticing apparently trivial details like these that we must arrive, if ever there should be such a science, at some insight into psychology. But the difficulty of "Know thyself" is as great to us as it was to Chilon of old. What are those lines, Theodora,

you were repeating the other day on this same subject of communion with the invisible world? They would be much to the point.

THEODORA. I will read them to you.

"As touching this same union, I have read
A tale, that teacheth this,-how far apart
Wisdom and knowledge, when it list them, dwell;
Howe'er the vulgar deem. There dwelt in France
A maiden, who was wont to sing their wild
And wondrous legends at the shut of eve,
And to her lover's wed her voice and lute.
Her lover died ;-and 'twas her mournful use
In the same chamber, at the self-same time,
To sing the self-same strains; and as his harp,
Neglected now, responsive echo gave,

She deem'd his spirit breath'd amidst its chords.
Thus pass'd she every eve, and in the thought
Found sweetest consolation: till at length

One of those same philosophising fools

Who, knowing all, feel nought,- who pluck a flower,
Give it a name, and tread it under foot,

And call that wisdom, told, and truly told,

How nature's laws ordain'd that when the hand

Pass'd o'er one harp, the self-same chord then struck
Should vibrate on its fellow. She, the while,

Lost the sweet type to gain the useless truth;
And so her harp was silenced; and she pined
Until she join'd the parted one again."

PISTUS. To inquire into all the methods in which this intercommunion of the visible with the invisible is carried on would be a task not ill-suited to these long winter nights, and perhaps not unprofitable to us. What say you? Shall we enter on the inquiry, bringing to it what separate

information we may each of us possess, and making our common remarks on every thing that is related?

SOPHRON. Content. Any thing which helps us to realize our connexion with the unseen world is useful; and we will boldly enter on the subject you propose. And, in listening to any details which the wisdom of the world would reject as improbable or impossible, we shall, I hope, be guided by a wiser feeling. We will weigh them on their evidence only: if that is sufficient to convince a man in his every-day conduct, it shall be sufficient for us; if not, while we stigmatize nothing as impossible, because it is unusual, we shall return a verdict of "not proven."

THEODORA. I shall be most glad to listen to such a discussion. We have, I think, nine nights before we separate: will it not be better to observe some kind of order in the treatment of our subject? else we shall surely be quite overwhelmed with its magnitude.

SOPHRON. We must not cramp ourselves too logically; as well because the nature of the inquiry does not well admit of it, as because its various branches run so naturally one into the other. Still some such kind of arrangement is undoubtedly desirable, and we shall do well to determine on it previously.

EUSEBIA. So I think; and then we shall come better prepared to the consideration of the question.