I know not why it is, or why there should be any connection between things material and immaterial, comprehensible and wholly incomprehensible, but I often sit here and fancy I should like my soul to be called away in just such a tempest as this--to be set free, "'And on the wings of mighty winds Go flying all abroad,' "As the psalm has it.

It would be glorious--glorious! Suddenly to find one's self strong, active--cumbered with no burden of a body-- to be all spirit, and spirit only." As the earl spoke, his whole face, withered and worn as it was, lighted up and glowed, Helen thought, almost like what one could imagine a disembodied soul.
She answered nothing, for she could find nothing to say.

Her quiet, simple faith was almost frightened at the passionate intensity of his, and the nearness with which he seemed to realize the unseen world.
"I wonder," he said again--"I sometimes sit for hours wondering-- what the other life is like--the life of which we know nothing, yet which may be so near to us all.

I often find myself planning about it in a wild, vague way, what I am to do in it--what God will permit me to do--and to be.

Surely something more than He ever permitted here." "I believe that," said Helen.