mly here, for we live in the outward world, and only
faint yet truthful images of the inner world are revealed to us. No
effort of the mind is so difficult as that of lifting itself above
the natural and the visible into the spiritual and
invisible--invisible, I mean, to the bodily eyes. So bound down by
mere sensual things are all our ideas, that it is impossible, when
the effort is first made, to see any thing clear in spiritual light.
Yet soon, if the effort be made, will the straining vision have
faint glimpses of a world whose rare beauties have never been seen
by natural eyes. There is the natural, and there is the spiritual;
but they are so distinct from each other, that the one by
sublimation, increase, or decrease, never becomes the other. Yet are
they most intimately connected; so intimately that, without the
latter, the former could have no existence. The relation is, in
fact, that of cause and effect."

"I fear this subject is too grave a one for our visitors," said Mr.
Willet, as his mother ceased speaking.

"It may be," remarked the lady, with a gentle smile that softened
her features and gave them a touch of heavenly beauty. "And Mrs.
Markland will forgive its intrusion upon her. We must not expect
that others will always be attracted by themes in which we feel a
special interest."

"You could not interest me more," said Mrs. Markland. "I am
listening with the deepest attention."

"Have you ever thought much of the relation between your soul and
body; or, as I would say, between your spiritual body and your
natural body?" asked Mrs. Willet.

"Often; but with a vagueness that left the mind wearied and
dissatisfied."

"I had a long talk with Mr. Allison on that subject," said Fanny.

"Ah!" Mrs. Willet looked toward Fanny with a brightening face. "And
what did he say?"

"Oh! a great deal--more than I can remember."

"You can recollect something?"

"Oh yes. He said that our spiritual bodies were as perfectly
organized as our material bodies, and that they could see, and hear,
and feel."

"He said truly. That our spirits have vision every one admits, when
he uses the words, on presenting some idea or principle to
another--'Can't you see it?' The architect sees the palace or temple
before he embodies it in marble, and thus makes it visible to
natural eyes. So does the painter see his picture; and the sculptor
his statue in the unhewn stone. You see the form of your absent
father with a distinct