I lived on earth, had vanished. So far from being able to number moments as they flew, I had no longer the power even to apprehend duration.

I had, indisputably, entered upon a new state of being. That I existed -it was impossible to doubt; but in what part of God's infinite universe did I exist? Was I on earth, or in Hades, or in heaven? How far had I journeyed in passing from one world to another? The thought at first pressed upon me with force; and there seemed a struggle to solve the mystery. But this was only for an instant. No response was given. The idea of space, like that of time, faded as a fleeting vision. Both belonged to a physical organization-both pertained to the limited sphere I had quitted forever. I had passed the portal of eternity, and time was no more. The measureless being of the soul-like thought, its offspring-was no longer under the control of space. The prison walls had fallen; the chain was broken; the mortal had put on immortality.

It was not at once that the spirit, clogged with affections of earth, received this strange knowledge. It came like the first faint gleam of dawn, ripening gradually to the full flood of noonday light. In the loss or decease of many faculties which had pertained to a previous existence, there was, it is true, a bursting forth to new liberty-an expansion into a higher state-a birth into heaven. Yet a void was left, which even the enlarged apprehensions of the soul could not fill. I had a sense of imperfection; I was conscious of something wanting for the equilibrium of being. This consciousness was abiding; and then I felt that my new condition, glorious as it was, was but elementary and rudimental. It was merely the germ of a more elevated and perfect life, which would as surely arrive, as the present had overtaken the past. I was still "a prisoner of hope." In losing for a season the physical part of my nature, I had become disunited from all the powers dependent, either directly or remotely, on bodily organization. Not only had all instincts failed, but memory also was in quiescence; imagination no longer roved throughout the universe, or "bodied forth the forms of things unknown." No more did reason compare nor weigh in her intellectual balance, nor labor to work out her harmonious designs. I no longer desired or acted; I was no longer a creature of purpose and performanceof enterprise and achievement.

But if remembrances of things earthly-not at once utterly annihilated by arbitrary and supernal power, became extinct by their own transitory nature, like visions receding into the past-not thus gradual was the acquisition of the new faculty which especially marked the state of release from corporiety. This power, native to the soul-essential to its existence-suspended during the period of its habitation in the mortal tenement-sprang into instant activity at the stroke of death, and speedily absorbed all else. I mean the soul's intuitive perception of God. How can language express it? How can human understanding attain to it? Higher than heavendeeper than hell-vast as eternity! At once, and in an instant, the soul to be plunged, as it were, in an ocean of Deity; surrounded, invaded, permeated -possessed! no form nor shape seen, no voice heard! a fathomless, illimitable abyss! a presence that compasseth infinity! What are the most intense perceptions of mortal sense--the unclouded sun bursting on the eyes of men -for but the faintest shadowing forth of this experience? What is the dull approximation or contact of matter with that which is kindred thereto-to this wondrous conjunction--the rush of mind to mind, when the wall intervening is removed ?--to the up-springing of the gleam to the uncreated source of light--to the return of the spirit to Him who gave it ?*

It is unreasonable to suppose, that the highest archangel, clothed with a body, however etherial and glorious it may be, is further removed from the Supreme than the disembodied

The soul beheld God; no longer through a glass, darkly, but face to face. I"knew, even as I was known." Yet, in this unutterable commingling, was not finite nature overwhelmed, nor absorbed, nor lost? And I saw not all,-if it be not blasphemous to speak here of limitation. With the decease, or suspension, of the percipient and reasoning powers, I had lost my apprehension of the eternity and omnipotence of the Supreme. Those attributes of the Divine nature were, for some mysterious purpose, in reserve. His greatness and power incomprehensible, were held in abeyance. The fruition of the knowledge of those was not yet. It was not yet permitted me to catch the echo of the praises of creation. But brighter than ten thousand thousand suns, shone on the opened eyes of the soul, the HOLINESS of the Lord! It was that to which I was sentient alone and wholly. It was that which enwrapped me, as in a world-encircling deluge of flame. I saw the Love, which is the essential being of God, shining-ever shining-in the zenith of eternity-and filling heaven and earth. I was immersed in its effulgence. And I knew, that as ages rolled on ages away, witnessing the rise and fall of material systems, the employment to which Divine Mercy and Wisdom had appointed earth-enfranchised-soulsyea, their very life-would still be the same-THE INEFFABLE CONTEMPLATION OF THE MORAL NATURE OF DEITY!

I knew also that a great multitude, which no man could number, of those called dead among the living on earth-stood, like me, before the throne. They as well as I

"But by to love-did apprehend to be.”

They also conscious of that alone, separate from all things else—were enfolded and enshroud ed in the light that beamed from the divine countenance. They lived unto God. There was no voice nor speech among them. In the calm of primeval silence-a silence that was the deepest utterance of inconceivable, incommunicable blessedness-they were ranged according to the rank of affinity around the everlasting centre-towards which they were forever tending. And over all, in solemn and eternal benediction, brooded the wings of infinite love; while the promise of the kingdom," given by the lips of a Mediator, was waited for by the countless throng of the redeemed.

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And I knew, that in the generations which were to come, that entire and ceaseless adoration would continue, and these souls would draw ever nearer to God; that by this vision of His moral perfection-this seven-fold blaze of His glory-the sustained were to be purged into purity; and the orphaned on earth, affiliated by faith to the Father of spirits, were to grow more and more into sympathy with Him, till the perfect union should be consummated. Then when all taint or imperfection shall be removed, and the relation complete,-when the moral emotions and affections of the soul have found and clasped forever their lawful and ultimate object-when the sanctification began by faith in a world of trial and sorrow, is finished by the sight of the Invisible-in that serene region where the separated spirit exists without perception or knowledge, save of the purity and love into which it is to be transformed-then shall come the end of all things. Then shall the soul of man, invested once more with a material

soul, because he cannot enjoy the same immediate and intuitive perception of Deity, while receiving impressions through a material medium.

Or, might not the possession of men by evil spirits, permitted in former times, and their evi dent desire to animate some material form, be attributed to their wish to escape, by corporiety, from this consciousness of God, which must to them have been but a source of woe?

but a glorified body, and thereby recovering the completeness of human nature-receive its full fruition of happiness; inasmuch as its restored powers, its capacities for action, enjoyment and advancement, can then be instrumental only to its endless progress in the knowledgewhich is the love of God.

LITTLE CHILDREN.

"Of such are the kingdom of Heaven."

And yet we check and chide

THE airy angels, as they float about us,

With rules of so-called wisdom, till they grow
The same tame slaves to custom and the world!
And, day by day, the fresh, frank soul, that looked
Wistfully from those eyes, and smiling played,
'Mid the wild roses on that dimpled cheek,
And modulated all those eager tones,
And danced in those light footfalls, to a tune
Heart-heard by them-inaudible to us,

Folds closer its pure wings, whereon the buds
They caught in Heaven, already pale, and pine,
And shrinks amazed and scared back from our gaze!
And so the evil grows. The graceful floncer
May have its own sweet way, in bud and bloom,
May drink and dare, with upturned gaze, the light,
Or nestle 'neath the guardian leaf, or wave

Its fragrant bells to every rover-breeze,

Or wreathe, with blushing grace, the fragile spray,

In bashful loveliness ;-the wildwood bird

May plume at will his wings, and soar or sing-
The mountain-brook may wind where'er it would-
Dash in wild music down the deep ravine,

Or rippling drowsily in forest haunts,

Dream of the floating cloud-the waving flower,
And murmur to itself sweet, lulling words,
In broken tones. How like the faltering speech
Of early childhood! but our human flowers-
Our soul-birds, caged and pining, they must sing
And grow,-not as their own, but our caprice
Suggests, and so the blossom and the lay
Are but half-bloom and music at the best ;-
And if, perchance, some brave and buoyant soul,
More bold or less forgetful of the lessons
God taught her first, disdain the rule-the bar-
And wildly beautiful, rebellious rise,

How the hard world-half-startled from itself,
Frowns the bright wanderer down, or turns away
And leaves her, lonely, in her upward path!
Thank God! to such His smile is not denied.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF NUMERATION.

Ir is a curious fact that, while different nations have distinct languages— in some instances, altogether dissimilar-yet all agree in their mode of numbering, by never advancing beyond ten without beginning anew, and thus combining ten and ten, and tens with tens, in orderly steps to millions.— Why have nations been restricted to the number ten? This question may appear of no practical utility, either for intellectual amusement, or the acquisition of wealth; but I affirm that a correct answer will include a law of mind which governs our religious, moral and political doctrines, as well as our mode of calculating dollars. The popular and universal answer which philosophers have given, is expressed by Dr. Thompson, in his "Progress of Physical Science." He says:

"The decimal mode of numeration has been adopted by almost all nationsevidently because man has ten fingers, and because men were in the habit of reckoning on the fingers, and after coming to an end, they begin again. If the number of the fingers had been twelve instead of ten, the mode of numeration would certainly have been duodecimal instead of decimal; and this mode would have had its conveniences, which the decimal mode wants."

I dissent from the conclusion, totally, that the number of man's fingers suggested the decimal mode; and I will try to prove that, to number things, and to distinguish good actions from others, bad, require an identical mode of thinking. Numbers, when applied to things, as, I tree, 2 trees, are termed concrete; but when unapplied, as, 1, 2, 3, they are termed abstract. Logicians admit that numbers were and are acquired first in the concrete, before the abstract. Therefore, since numbers in the concrete stand first for analysis, and thus denote an adjunct meaning by which grammarians designate them adjectives, it follows that we should clearly ascertain whether we have one or several modes of comparison; for under some modes of comparison our method of numbering must be constructed.

We will name those three lines successively, A, B, C, and consider each as possessing a property of extension. If we confine our attention to that property, we see that B is longer than A, and C is the longest of the three. If we reverse our comparisons, and consider C as short, we see that B is shorter than C, and A is the shortest of the three. A, B, C, thus denote the three degrees of comparison, (as they are named by grammarians, though they should say three degrees of relation ;) and I must prove that those degrees are confined to three, and thus result from a law of mind which governs, accordingly, our mode of numbering.

It is evident, that all lines which differ from B in length, must be longer or shorter; hence, three degrees exhaust our consecutive comparisons, for B remains unchanged, whether we assume it to be long or short. This mode of comparison, which requires two reversed degrees of relation correlative to a condition assumed, includes the meaning of all such words as

true, false, right, wrong, just, and unjust. For example: the following propositions require an identical mode of comparison :

All lines which differ from B in length must be longer or shorter.
Every assertion must be true or false.

In the first, we assume that the condition of B must be both long and short, according as we reverse our comparisons; and in the second, we assume that every assertion must agree or disagree with its application.— Grammarians say that such words as true, and infinite," are always, literally, in the superlative degree; because, by expressing a quality in the highest degree, they carry in themselves a superlative signification." This may appear plausible, yet it is very unsound, and the sophistry lurks in the meaning of two words-" highest degree." The author saw that in using such words, we cannot say of a proposition, it is most true-hence he inferred that all such adjectives are always in the superlative degree. Whereas, our inability to advance to a degree of relation which increases from that which is already true, arises from this fact-that we cannot rationally apply such words as true, perfect, and infinite, unless restricted to that mode of comparison which requires two reversed degrees correlative to a first condition assumed. That such words as infinite are always in the comparative degree, and never in the superlative, may require a further illustration.

When we say long, longer, longest, our first degree, named the positive, is assumed; then the comparative and superlative consecutively follow.But long and short denote degrees which are first apprehended by perceiving two reversed things correlative to a first condition assumed. Therefore, the fundamental mode of comparison-that mode which is the basis of all others consists in two reversed degrees correlative to a first, and which first is analogous to that degree which grammarians name the positive.

In the aforesaid example, B can be affirmed the longer only on this condition-that A was admitted to be long before B was compared with A; then C is compared with B and A. Now, this principle should be clearly understood that, in any number of consecutive comparisons, we first require two things, one of which is assumed, (i. e., not compared,) and by which we determine the other's degree of relation. Then, if we annex another degree, we introduce a new element into our comparisons, which may be termed the correlative. When two things are compared, one is relative to the other; but when three things are compared consecutively, each is correlative with the others. This distinction between relative and correlative, as applied to numeration, has been totally disregarded by all authors whose works I have read, except Bishop Berkeley, and William Hazlitt, in his Essay on Locke, and from which I will quote in due time.

In the above example we are required to see B relative to A, then C correlative with B and A, before we advance to D; we then find that A, B, C are each perceived twice, and only twice-whence each becomes correlative, (i. e. reciprocally relative.) Now, if we annex D, it is clear that A, B, C, D must each be seen three times to become correlative throughout. And if we annex E, then each must be seen four times to become correlative as aforesaid, and so we may continue annexing. But we first proved that a thing is only seen twice to become correlative; therefore, when a thing is seen three or more times, and still conceived to be only correlative, it is seen absurdly and in contradiction to a law of mind which universally go