My Library

and there, amidst the sweet music of nature, the melody of the sunshine, the warblings of birds, the quietude of the deep green canopy of leaves, the humming of distant sounds, and the serenity of unruffled spirits, we entered upon the discussion of a topic of singular interest. That topic was, ‘The human soul, and its resources.’ I shall only record the latter part of this conversation. Said the old gentleman— “ ‘Then you really believe, as did a very ancient society of philosophers, known to some students of the past as the Sacred Twenty-four, that there is a kind of natural magic in existence, far more wonderful in its results than the lamp of Aladdin, or the ring of the Genii?’ “ ‘Most certainly I do.’ “ ‘How have you learned of its existence, and how do you propose to become a noviciate, and avail yourself thereof for certain contemplated translations? Perhaps you believe in Elfins, Fairies, Genii and Magicians?’ said he, half laughingly. “ ‘I do not absolutely know,’ I replied, ‘that such a magic exists, yet firmly believe it does. The idea came to me I know not how. By striving, perhaps, it may be found. There are steps leading to it, doubtless, and, if we can discover the first (which I think we have already in Mesmerism), we can follow till we reach the great goal. I do not believe that Elfins, Fairies,