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 présence. 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 with a kind of fit that deprived her of sensibility to things around, constantly saw in this state her-deceased sister and child, but on her revival recollected nothing. From such remembrances and impressions, to the thought of visible apparitions, the transition is not difficult. One may often be mistaken for the other; and there is in human nature a strong desire to believe. Perhaps most of the more credible narratives may thus be explained; but the great question itself is not quite solved, when the belief in apparitions visible to the outward sight is rejected. That the appearance, visible as well as invisible, of the dead, is possible, the instances related in the Bible are decisive. That they have ever appeared to the outward eye, except in those instances, can scarcely be proved from history, to the satisfaction of the skeptical, or even of the indifferent. That, however, the strongest sense of their influence, as if they were present, has often been impressed upon the mind, in those states in which visible objects have least control, is confirmed by ten thousand testimonies. That at such times there is a real communion between the living and the dead, and a real presence of the dead with the living, is a natural conjecture, which cannot be wholly disproved. XXXVI. Capacities of the Soul after Death. "If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell, CAMPBELL. UNLESS the spirits of the dead can sometimes, visibly or invisibly, make us conscious of their existence and nearness, we have from experience no acquaintance with the realm to which they are gone. A hundred ages have inquired in vain. All which, without the aid of revelation, can be won, are only some inferences from the capacities of the human soul, and some, perhaps, from the traditions or imaginations of different families of nations. The soul acts, in this life, through its bodily organization, but proves itself essentially capable of acting without such an organization. Its frail, inert, and fleshly body is not only its instrument, but its incumbrance. In those states in which it is least restrained by the connection, it seems to intimate the far greater expansion of its powers and freedom of its movements, which await it when the connection shall be quite dissolved. Nothing but the weakness of the brain seems to prevent an intensity of attention, a power of surveying several topics at the same moment, a rapidity of mental transition, and a tenacity and comprehensiveness of memory, which would carry us on to a far higher state of intellectual advancement. Even a disordered brain permits the disclosure of some particular faculty with an energy almost superhuman. The flow of expression, the flash of thought, the glimpses of a knowledge beyond the reach of the senses, which are sometimes witnessed when the whole corporeal chain seems almost broken, all speak to us of strength to be developed hereafter. In sleep, the material world exists only for the mind, which reposes through its own playful activity. Then we scale the steep precipice, and cross the stormy flood, and snatch ourselves from the spot of peril, with but a wish and an effort. Why can we not when we are awake? The body will not obey the spirit; it moves but according to its own heavy nature. Hereafter, this body will be no hinderance; and the power of motion may be unrestrained by the laws of matter. Departed spirits may be near or far, around us or among us, or in the remotest regions of the universe, if they can move with the rapidity of the mind. The memory is the bond of personal identity and individuality. That portion of our life of which we have no remembrance was that in which the child scarcely existed apart from the care and will of the parent. If we are individually immortal, we must carry with us the recollection of the present state; and there are ample tokens that all which ever fixed the attention is capable of being recalled, and held under one broad survey. The affections, too, must be immortal, unless the character be changed, or the object lose its attractiveness. Otherwise what has once been loved must be more or less beloved always. It is only the weakness of our present powers that brings one object into competition with another, and for the sake of the later excludes the earlier, and the many for the sake of the few. The mind is like a hospitable house of too small dimensions; it must receive its guests, not together, but in succession. But, could it comprehend all within the same embrace, it would reject none whom it had ever welcomed, unless indeed it had been deceived, for it cannot love a delusion which it has discovered to be a delusion. While, then, on this side of the grave, our love for the departed only gathers strength, devotion, and sanctity from the separation; theirs, in a state where every power, emancipated from the flesh, has gained expansion, cannot have been extinguished. Of the mode of existence in a purely spiritual world, our conceptions must be vague and inadequate. Disembodied spirits, however, must still possess qualities that have an analogy with form and feature, voice and hearing. We cannot think of them otherwise; till the moment of death they have never existed otherwise; and it is the individual soul which gives to the form and features, to the voice and hearing, their individual peculiarity and identity. Here, it gathers to itself the grosser matter of the body, and moves and acts by slow and heavy contact with the material world. Hereafter, it may employ a more ethereal medium; and its action may be far more rapid, delicate, and powerful. The whole intellectual man appears, in our present state, to be waiting for a development. There is always a presumption that a development, thus universally and naturally expected, will be accomplished. It may be a development of moral qualities, as well as of mental capacities. Perhaps, the character, here re |