the vulgar, in
itself is awfully solemn and sublime.

However lightly it may be ridiculed, yet the attention involuntarily
yielded to it whenever it is made the subject of serious discussion;
its prevalence in all ages and countries, and even among
newly-discovered nations, that have had no previous interchange of
thought with other parts of the world, prove it to be one of those
mysteries, and almost instinctive beliefs, to which, if left to
ourselves, we should naturally incline.

In spite of all the pride of reason and philosophy, a vague doubt will
still lurk in the mind, and perhaps will never be perfectly eradicated;
as it is concerning a matter that does not admit of positive
demonstration. Every thing connected with our spiritual nature is full
of doubt and difficulty. "We are fearfully and wonderfully made;" we
are surrounded by mysteries, and we are mysteries even to ourselves.
Who yet has been able to comprehend and describe the nature of the
soul, its connection with the body, or in what part of the frame it is
situated? We know merely that it does exist; but whence it came, and
when it entered into us, and how it is retained, and where it is
seated, and how it operates, are all matters of mere speculation, and
contradictory theories. If, then, we are thus ignorant of this
spiritual essence, even while it forms a part of ourselves, and is
continually present to our consciousness, how can we pretend to
ascertain or to deny its powers and operations when released from its
fleshy prison-house? It is more the manner, therefore, in which this
superstition has been degraded, than its intrinsic absurdity, that has
brought it into contempt. Raise it above the frivolous purposes to
which it has been applied, strip it of the gloom and horror with which
it has been surrounded, and there is none of the whole circle of
visionary creeds that could more delightfully elevate the imagination,
or more tenderly affect the heart. It would become a sovereign comfort
at the bed of death, soothing the bitter tear wrung from us by the
agony of our mortal separation. What could be more consoling than the
idea, that the souls of those whom we once loved were permitted to
return and watch over our welfare?--that affectionate and guardian
spirits sat by our pillows when we slept, keeping a vigil over our most
helpless hours?--that beauty and innocence which had languished into
the tomb, yet smiled unseen around us, revealing themselv