is lost from the stage upon any part of the
house. The lowest sob of a dying heroine, in her very last agony, is
heard as plainly by the occupant of the back seat of the amphitheatre,
as are the thundering denunciations of the tragic actor in the wildest
of gladiatorial scenes.

I wondered if this were one of those rules that worked both ways; if
the stage performer, in a moment of silent by-play, could hear the
sentimental whisper of the belle in the box opposite, as well as the
noisy applause of the claqueur in the front seat. If so, the audience
might become, to him, the peopled stage, filled with the varied and
incongruous characters.

Then if art can produce such effects upon what we call an ethereal
substance--if the waves of air can be compelled to carry their message
only in the directions in which it is taught to go--what influence
would such power have on more spiritual media? In other worlds, where
it is not necessary for thoughts to express themselves in words, but
where some more subtle power than that of air conveys ideas from one
being to another, it is possible that an inquiring being might place
himself at some central point where he might gather in all the
information that is afloat in such a spiritual existence.

Full of these thoughts, and my head, perhaps, a little bewildered by
them, I passed unobserved into the orchestra, and ensconced myself in
a little niche under the music-desk of the leader. I was surprised to
find myself in a little cavity, from which there were loop-holes of
observation into every part of the house, while there was a front view
of the stage when the curtain should be raised. Seduced by the comfort
of this little nook, and my speculations not being of the liveliest
nature, it is not to be wondered at that I fell into a gentle sleep.

I was aroused presently by the baton of the leader, struck with some
force upon the desk over my head. I was aware, at the same time, of a
whispering all around my ears, and an incessant noise, like that of
aspen leaves in a summer breeze, which, in spite of its softness and
delicacy, overpowered the sound of the loud orchestra. When I was able
to recover myself, I began to find that I had indeed placed myself in
the centre of the house; not in the centre of sound, but, if I
may so express myself, of sensation. I was not listening to the
conversations, but suddenly found myself the confidant of the thoughts
of all the occupants of this well-f