“We see but dimly here, for we live in the outward world, and only faint yet truthful images of the inner world are revealed to us.  No effort of the mind is so difficult as that of lifting itself above the natural and the visible into the spiritual and invisible—­invisible, I mean, to the bodily eyes.  So bound down by mere sensual things are all our ideas, that it is impossible, when the effort is first made, to see any thing clear in spiritual light.  Yet soon, if the effort be made, will the straining vision have faint glimpses of a world whose rare beauties have never been seen by natural eyes.  There is the natural, and there is the spiritual; but they are so distinct from each other, that the one by sublimation, increase, or decrease, never becomes the other.  Yet are they most intimately connected; so intimately that, without the latter, the former could have no existence.  The relation is, in fact, that of cause and effect.”

“I fear this subject is too grave a one for our visitors,” said Mr. Willet, as his mother ceased speaking.

“It may be,” remarked the lady, with a gentle smile that softened her features and gave them a touch of heavenly beauty.  “And Mrs. Markland will forgive its intrusion upon her.  We must not expect that others will always be attracted by themes in which we feel a special interest.”

“You could not interest me more,” said Mrs. Markland.  “I am listening with the deepest attention.”

“Have you ever thought much of the relation between your soul and body; or, as I would say, between your spiritual body and your natural body?” asked Mrs. Willet.

“Often; but with a vagueness that left the mind wearied and dissatisfied.”

“I had a long talk with Mr. Allison on that subject,” said Fanny.

“Ah!” Mrs. Willet looked toward Fanny with a brightening face.  “And what did he say?”

“Oh! a great deal—­more than I can remember.”

“You can recollect something?”

“Oh yes.  He said that our spiritual bodies were as perfectly organized as our material bodies, and that they could see, and hear, and feel.”

“He said truly.  That our spirits have vision every one admits, when he uses the words, on presenting some idea or principle to another—­’Can’t you see it?’ The architect sees the palace or temple before he embodies it in marble, and thus makes it visible to natural eyes.  So does the painter see his picture; and the sculptor his statue in the unhewn stone.  You see the form of your absent father with a distinctness of vision that makes every feature visible; but not with the eyes of your body.”

“No, not with my bodily eyes,” said Fanny.  “I have thought a great deal about this since I talked with Mr. Allison; and the more I think of it, the more clearly do I perceive that we have spiritual bodies as well as natural bodies.”

“And the inevitable conclusion is, that the spiritual body must live, breathe, and act in a world above or within the natural world, where all things are adapted to its functions and quality.”