makes one of his characters say:  “Why is it that some scenes awaken thoughts which belong as it were, to dreams of early and shadowy recollections, such as old Brahmin moonshine would have ascribed to a state of previous existence.  How often do we find ourselves in society which we have never before met, and yet feel impressed with a mysterious and ill-defined consciousness that neither the scene nor the speakers nor the subject are entirely new; nay, feel as if we could anticipate that part of the conversation which has not yet taken place.”

Bulwer speaks of “that strange kind of inner and spiritual memory which so often recalls to us places and persons we have never seen before, and which Platonists would resolve to be the unquenched consciousness of a former life.”  And again, he says:  “How strange is it that at times a feeling comes over us as we gaze upon certain places, which associates the scene either with some dim remembered and dreamlike images of the Past, or with a prophetic and fearful omen of the Future.  Every one has known a similar strange and indistinct feeling at certain times and places, and with a similar inability to trace the cause.”  Poe has written these words on the subject:  “We walk about, amid the destinies of our world existence, accompanied by dim but ever present memories of a Destiny more vast—­very distant in the bygone time and infinitely awful.  We live out a youth peculiarly haunted by such dreams, yet never mistaking them for dreams.  As memories we know them.  During our youth the distinctness is too clear to deceive us even for a moment.  But the doubt of manhood dispels these feelings as illusions.”

Home relates an interesting incident in his life, which had a marked effect upon his beliefs, thereafter.  He relates that upon an occasion when he visited a strange house in London he was shown into a room to wait.  He says:  “On looking around, to my astonishment everything appeared perfectly familiar to me.  I seemed to recognize every object.  I said to myself, ’What is this?  I have never been here before, and yet I have seen all this, and if so, then there must be a very peculiar knot in that shutter.’” He proceeded to examine the shutter, and much to his amazement the knot was there.

We have recently heard of a similar case, told by an old lady who formerly lived in the far West of the United States.  She states that upon one occasion a party was wandering on the desert in her part of the country, and found themselves out of water.  As that part of the desert was unfamiliar even to the guides, the prospect for water looked very poor indeed.  After a fruitless search of several hours, one of the party, a perfect stranger to that part of the country, suddenly pressed his hand to his head, and acted in a dazed manner, crying out “I know that a water-hole is over to the right—­this way,” and away he started with the party after him.  After a half-hour’s journey they reached