“Oh, yes.”

“And been as strongly attracted in other cases?”

“Often.”

“Have you ever compared this impression with your subsequent knowledge of the person’s character?”

Fanny thought for a little while, and then said—­

“I am not sure that I have, Mr. Allison.”

“You have found yourself mistaken in persons after some acquaintance with them?”

“Yes; more than once.”

“And I doubt not, that if you had observed the impression these persons made on you when you met them for the first time, you would have found that impression a true index to their character.  Scarcely noticing these first impressions, which are instinctive perceptions of moral qualities, we are apt to be deceived by the exterior which almost every one assumes on a first acquaintance; and then, if we are not adepts at reading character, we may be a long time in finding out the real quality.  Too often this real character is manifested, after we have formed intimate relations with the person, that may not be dissolved while the heart knows a life-throb.  Is that not a serious thought, Fanny?”

“It is, Mr. Allison,—­a very serious, and a solemn thought.”

“Do you think that you clearly comprehend my meaning?”

“I do not know that I see all you wish me to comprehend,” answered Fanny.

“May I attempt to make it clearer?”

“I always listen to you with pleasure and profit, Mr. Allison,” said Fanny.

“Did you ever think that your soul had senses as well as your body?” inquired the old man.

“You ask me a strange question.  How can a mere spirit—­an airy something, so to speak—­have senses?”

“Do you never use the words—­’I see it clearly’—­meaning that you see some form of truth presented to your mind.  As, for instance,—­if I say, ‘To be good is to be happy,’ you will answer, ’Oh, yes; I see that clearly.’  Your soul, then, has, at least, the sense of sight.  And that it has the sense of taste also, will, I think, be clear to you, when you remember bow much you enjoy the reading of a good book, wherein is food for the mind.  Healthy food is sometimes presented in so unpalatable a shape, that the taste rejects it; and so it is with truth, which is the mind’s food.  I instance this, to make it clearer to you.  So you see that the soul has at least two senses—­sight and taste.  That it has feeling needs scarcely an illustration.  The mind is hurt quite as easily as the body, and, the path of an injury is usually more permanent.  The child who has been punished unjustly feels the injury inflicted on his spirit, days, months, and, it may be, years, after the body has lost the smarting consciousness of stripes.  And you know that sharp words pierce the mind with acutest pain.  We may speak daggers, as well as use them.  Is this at all clear to you, Miss Markland?”

“Oh, very clear!  How strange that I should never have thought of this myself!  Yes—­I see, hear, taste, and feel with my mind, as well as with my body.”