must be pervaded by agencies at present inconceivable. That, on the borders of both lands, that at the very line of transition, appearances should occur which seem to belong rather to the other side than this, it is not credulity to imagine; nor is it a superstition of which any wise man need be ashamed, to watch with reverence every indication of that high Providence which conducts a human being from the last hour of this world into the first hour of the world to come.

XXXV.

Intercourse with the Dead.

The grave is silent, and the far-off sky,

And the deep midnight; silent all, and lone!

Oh, if thy buried love make no reply,

What voice has earth? hear, pity, speak, mine own,
Answer me! answer me!"

HEMANS.

IN vain the inquiring heart knocks at the gate of that realm into which the dead have entered. Its most earnest gaze is fixed in vain; its most eager cry is unanswered. But it remains ready to welcome any glimpse, to grasp any evidence which may afford sensible assurance of the nature or reality of a life to come. Such glimpses and such evidences have been offered and asserted in all ages; are any of them worthy of reliance? Can any thing be known, from human testimony or from direct disclosure, of the actual state of the dead? Is any one of a thousand narratives of the apparition of departed spirits authenticated at the bar of impartial judgment?

One, at least, if the spirit of Samuel, and not a delusive phantom, appeared after the incantations of the sorceress at Endor. Had it been satisfactorily known through any other channel than Divine revelation, that Saul saw Samuel on the eve of his own fall, and heard the words, "To-morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me," it would still have been a fact in the history of mankind, and would have proved, as truly as now, the

possibility of such apparitions. That there was a real appearance of Samuel, is the plainest interpretation of the language, was the belief of the ancient Jews, and has been supposed by the best divines. He came, not through any power of the sorceress, it should seem, but to her amazement. Once, therefore, a departed spirit has revisited the earth, and has been seen and heard; and, it is worthy of remark, that he took the form and aspect in which he might best be recognised; that of an old man, covered with a mantle; and seemed to come up out of the earth in which his body was slumbering.

There is another example, yet more unquestionable, though more closely blended with the miraculous facts of the redemption. On the mountain of the Transfiguration, Moses and Elijah, many centuries after their removal to the world of spirits, were seen by Peter, James, and John; spoke in their presence; and were known by them as Moses and Elijah. They were not called back into existence, but only brought within the sphere of visibility. Similar appearances are not in their nature impossible; but they must be interruptions of the common course of events; and the question, whether they have occurred at all, is one of fact and evidence.

Amongst the numerous accounts of such apparitions, apart from the sacred records, not one has been sustained by such evidence as to take its place in history as an acknowledged fact. Many of them fade away before the lamp of investigation, and cannot be traced to any responsible witness. In others, the operation of an excited fancy, or a diseased state of the nerves, is an ample explanation; especially where the apparition has been connected with some spot memorable as a

scene of death. The dim and shadowy character of the supposed appearances almost precludes the possibility of proof, beyond the mind of the spectator himself, and of those who are already disposed to receive his statement. It has not been alleged, that clear and full revelations have at any time been made by the visitants. Men have undoubtedly seen, or seemed to themselves to see, the forms of deceased persons, such as they were in life; but they have passed by in silence; and there was too much room for delusions of the fancy or of the senses. Johnson, with every disposition to believe, regarded the question as still, after so many thousand years, undetermined; and another century of inquiry has furnished no addition of testimony.

But, on the other side, as Johnson remarked, was the prevailing notion of all ages. Every history was full of these stories; all the great poets have employed them, from Homer to Shakspeare. The Scriptures suppose such a persuasion. "It is his angel," said the frightened disciples, when Peter, whom they deemed slain, appeared at the gate; and, when they saw the Saviour walking upon the sea, "they supposed it had been a spirit." An universal belief like this is not sufficiently explained by an universal longing for communion with the departed. Its foundation is rather in the actual discourse which our spirits hold with the dead, and which they seem to hold with us, when their images are before us in our solitary contemplations, our reveries and our dreams.

Thoughts of a deceased friend become sometimes, and in some mental constitutions, so vivid for a moment, that the difference between recollection and present reality is all but imperceptible. The departed spirit seems even present to the inward eye; his influence is

actually and most powerfully felt; may he not be indeed near, though invisible? This is the question which prepares the mind for a belief in outward though dim and momentary apparitions. Of all this, the most remarkable instance on record may possibly be that of Emanuel Swedenborg, whose grotesque reveries appear to have been so habitually intense that he no longer distinguished between these and the firmest spiritual realities. But Wesley, also, who knew Swedenborg and believed him insane, has spoken of his own clear conviction, that the strong impression on his own mind of the images of deceased friends, at particular moments, was produced by their actual, invisible presence. Oberlin supposed that for many years he enjoyed intimate communications with the dead. It is certain, that, in our dreams, the appearance of a deceased person is sometimes marked by a peculiar vividness, which fixes itself on the recollection, and revives the profoundest feelings. Many have had, like me, a stream of consolation from the beaming, beatified countenance of a friend thus restored in the visions of the night. Johnson hoped for himself some communication with his deceased wife; and Boswell affirmed that he had himself, under a like sorrow, "had certain experience of benignant communication by dreams." The same thing is perhaps still more striking in the waking thoughts of some, under great excitement of the nervous system, but quite without derangement of the understanding. A lady whom grief for the loss of a beloved sister had brought to a highly hysterical state, which continued for several months, was at once and for ever relieved by seeing, as it seemed to her, the clear appearance of her sister, who bade her be comforted, and assured her of her own happiness. Another lady, who was afflicted