The thoughts of mortals become visible to you
here because you yourself are a mortal, but the thoughts of the purest
mortal on your earth cannot arrive at the same pitch of sublimity as the
thoughts of the meanest of disembodied spirits of this world, and
therefore the spirits themselves are invisible to you, although they are
far inferior to those you have just visited." "Then why could I enter the angels' lower paradise, and yet am not able
to see these inferior spirits?" I asked. "Because," replied my instructor, "your spirit then received sufficient
light from contact with mine to enable you to see them. I could also let
you see these, but why desire to see the lot of ordinary spirits after
having seen those of so far higher an order? It might remove the
impression, which I presume you wish to retain. Besides our time is
short, for we are near touching earth." "True, true," I said hurriedly, for another vision suddenly arrested my
attention. "Tell me, O my guide, what is the meaning of yon strange
sight?" And strange sight it was indeed! For it was the vision of a
human leg clad in the knee-breeches of our time, and walking about by
itself. "That," replied my preceptor, "is a portion of the body of some spirit
not as yet freed from clay, and for that reason it is made visible to
you. Our spirits on first leaving the material world are an exact
counterpart of our terrestrial bodies, being an essence filling every
part and particle of our earthly frames, from which they receive their
stamp. The body itself does not rise again as some of your world
vulgarly believed, but the spiritual body its counterpart, while the
earthly covering but contributes its dust to your globe's surface." "Then the vision I see is a portion of a human soul about to leave its
earthy tenement?" asked I. "By no means," replied the sage. "The owner of that limb has yet some
years of material life before him, although, I observe, he is aged. The
reason that you see but the leg and not the rest of the body, is that
that portion of the physical body is wanting. You cannot perceive his
corporeal body because you are now in the spirit, and the spirit can
only see that which is spiritual, as likewise the material eye only that
which is material. You are sufficiently spiritual to see spirits who are
yet encumbered with clay, but not enough so to see spirits perfectly
disembodied. On the other hand, being withdrawn from the body, you are
not yet sufficiently material to descry material bodies." "Then in fact," I observed, "the vision that I see before me is the
spirit leg of someone who in my world has lost his material leg?" "Precisely so," the sage replied, "for mortals live in two worlds at the
same time; in the material world as to their bodies, in the spiritual
world as to their spirits. I should imagine," added he, regarding the
vision fixedly, "from the way in which it seems to approach you that it
belonged to some friend or relation of yours. Have you no relation in
the world who has lost a leg?" he asked. "A relation who has lost a leg?" I exclaimed, for instantly my uncle,
the admiral, flashed across my mind. "Exactly so, your uncle, the admiral," he replied, reading my thoughts. There was an individuality about the limb that from the beginning
seemed familiar to me. It was a right leg, too, the very leg that my
uncle had lost. There could be no mistake about it. Then said I to my guide, "I recognise the leg, sure enough, but is its
appearance now a sign that he is near me in the body?" "If not so, at least in thought," responded the sage. By this time my companion told me that we had already arrived on earth,
and said that he must now leave me, so we embraced, and he vanished from
my sight. Then the mist around me suddenly cleared away, and I was
surprised to find myself once again in my laboratory, seated in the same
old carved arm-chair, and surrounded by several persons. Well, gentlemen, amongst those persons I instantly recognised a face
long familiar to me. It was my uncle's! Poor old man! He had dreadfully changed. His iron grey hair had become
perfectly white, his black eyebrows "a sable silvered." He stooped very
much, and the muscles of his face were drooping and flaccid, while his
ruby nose had lost its fine rich colour and faded into a sickly ashen
hue. The individual next to him I recognised at once as our common
friend, Mr. Langton. Then I saw a strange face which I concluded must be
the doctor. There was also my deaf and dumb boy, who had not long
brought up my basin of broth, as it was still steaming, and he was
awaiting my recovery. Little more remains to be told. My poor uncle, as our friend Langton had
prophesied, had been obliged to sue for a divorce, shortly after which
his worthless partner eloped with a paramour. The whole sad occurrence
preyed upon the old man's mind, and brought on a dangerous illness, from
which, however, he recovered. During his illness he had spoken much of
his nephew, and on his recovery the doctor had recommended him a change
of scene to divert his mind. As he had expressed a wish to see his
nephew once more before he died, his friend Langton had offered to
accompany him. The doctor also formed one of the party, and they had
travelled together to Jena as an agreeable surprise for me. It is needless to add that all former differences were forgotten, and
that my old uncle resolved never to make a fool of himself again. He
even encouraged his nephew's studies, and gave his sanction at length
that my friend the chemist's son should join me in my studies. My health
rapidly improved under careful treatment, and I never saw any more
visions. I quite gave up alchemy, and applied myself to other branches
of chemistry. Nevertheless, my studies had not been quite useless, as in
my search after the philosopher's stone, I had made several very curious
discoveries in science, and my name soon became famous throughout the
university. My uncle's illness had wrought as great a change morally as it had done
physically in him. His nature was completely changed. His treatment of
me was now of the kindest. He seemed even to respect me for the
perseverance I had shown in my studies and to be ashamed of his former
narrow-minded notions. He remained with me at Jena until his health and
my health had completely recovered, when I accompanied him to England,
where I once more saw my friend, the chemist's son, whom I subsequently
took out with me to Jena, where we pursued our studies together for some
three years, after which we both returned to England, where I took up my
quarters at my uncle's house. The admiral lived a good ten years after his illness, and died at the
good old age of ninety, leaving to me his entire fortune. CHAPTER X. AN INTERLUDE. On the conclusion of Mr. Crucible's narrative that gentleman was highly
complimented on his tale by each member of the club in turn, especially
by Mr. Oldstone.