am really a dead man----"

"Alive," corrected the other.

"Well, alive, then. I may tell you that my wife's heart is broken. She
will never marry again."

"Of course, that is a subject of which you know a great deal more than I
do. I all the more strongly advise you never to see her again. It is
impossible for you to offer any consolation, and the sight of her grief
and misery will only result in unhappiness for yourself. Therefore, take
my advice. I have given it very often, and I assure you those who did
not take it expressed their regret afterwards. Hold entirely aloof from
anything relating to your former life."

Brenton was silent for some moments; finally he said--

"I presume your advice is well meant; but if things are as you state,
then I may as well say, first as last, that I do not intend to accept
it."

"Very well," said the other; "it is an experience that many prefer to go
through for themselves."

"Do you have names in this spirit-land?" asked Brenton, seemingly
desirous of changing the subject.

"Yes," was the answer; "we are known by names that we have used in the
preparatory school below. My name is Ferris."

"And if I wish to find you here, how do I set about it?"

"The wish is sufficient," answered Ferris. "Merely wish to be with me,
and you _are_ with me."

"Good gracious!" cried Brenton, "is locomotion so easy as that?"

"Locomotion is very easy. I do not think anything could be easier
than it is, and I do not think there could be any improvement in that
matter."

"Are there matters here, then, that you think could be improved?"

"As to that I shall not say. Perhaps you will be able to give your own
opinion before you have lived here much longer."

"Taking it all in all," said Brenton, "do you think the spirit-land is
to be preferred to the one we have left?"

"I like it better," said Ferris, "although I presume there are some
who do not. There are many advantages; and then, again, there are
many--well, I would not say disadvantages, but still some people
consider them such. We are free from the pangs of hunger or cold, and
have therefore no need of money, and there is no necessity for the rush
and the worry of the world below."

"And how about heaven and hell?" said Brenton. "Are those localities all
a myth? Is there nothing of punishment and nothing of reward in this
spirit-land?"

There was no answer to this, and when Brenton looked around he found
that his companion had