w what Casimir will use on you will be INTERNAL
electricity."

I begged her to explain more clearly. She went on:

"You have internally a certain amount of electricity, which has been
increased recently by the remedies prescribed for you by Casimir. But,
however much you have, Casimir has more, and he will exert his force
over your force, the greater over the lesser. You will experience an
INTERNAL electric shock, which, like a sword, will separate in twain
body and spirit. The spiritual part of you will be lifted up above
material forces; the bodily part will remain inert and useless, till
the life, which is actually YOU, returns to put its machinery in motion
once more."

"But shall I return at all?" I asked half doubtfully.

"You must return, because God has fixed the limits of your life on
earth, and no human power can alter His decree. Casimir's will can set
you free for a time, but only for a time. You are bound to return, be
it never so reluctantly. Eternal liberty is given by Death alone, and
Death cannot be forced to come."

"How about suicide?" I asked.

"The suicide," replied Zara, "has no soul. He kills his body, and by
the very act proves that whatever germ of an immortal existence he may
have had once, has escaped from its unworthy habitation, and gone, like
a flying spark, to find a chance of growth elsewhere. Surely your own
reason proves this to you? The very animals have more soul than a man
who commits suicide. The beasts of prey slay each other for hunger or
in self-defence, but they do not slay themselves. That is a brutality
left to man alone, with its companion degradation, drunkenness."

I mused awhile in silence.

"In all the wickedness and cruelty of mankind," I said, "it is almost a
wonder that there is any spiritual existence left on earth at all. Why
should God trouble Himself to care for such few souls as thoroughly
believe in and love Him?--they can be but a mere handful."

"Such a mere handful are worth more than the world to him," said Zara
gravely. "Oh, my dear, do not say such things as why should God trouble
Himself? Why do you trouble yourself for the safety and happiness of
anyone you love?"

Her eyes grew soft and tender, and the jewel she wore glimmered like
moonlight on the sea. I felt a little abashed, and, to change the
subject, I said:

"Tell me, Zara, what is that stone you always wear? Is it a talisman?"

"It belonged to a king," said Zara,--"at least, it was