ately toward the whole system of things. They loved, and
thought, and wrought straight onward with it; no one put the impediment
of a criticism against it,--no one that I could see or suspect, in all
the place, except my isolated self. They had the air of those engaged
in some sweet and solemn object, common to them all; an object,
evidently set above rather than upon the general level. Their faces
shone with pleasure and with peace. Often they wore a high, devout
look. They never showed an irritated expression, never an anxious nor
that I could see a sad one. It was impossible to deny the marked
nobility of their appearance.

"If this," I thought, "be what is called a spiritual life, I was not
ready to become a spirit."

Now, when my child awaited and called me, as he had begun, in the dear
old days on earth, to learn to do, and like any live human baby
proceeded to give vent to a series of incoherent remarks bearing upon
the fact that Boy would like his supper, I was fain to perceive that
being a spirit did not materially change the relation of a man to the
plainer human duties; and that, whether personally agreeable or no, I
must needs bring myself into some sort of connection with the
civilization about me. I might be a homesick fellow, but the baby was
hungry. I might be at odds with the whole scheme of things, but the
child must have a shelter. I might be a spiritual outcast, but what
was to become of Boy? The heart of the father arose in me; and,
gathering the little fellow to my breast, I set forth quickly to the
nearest town.

Here, after some hesitation, I accosted a stranger, whose appearance
pleased me, and besought his assistance in my perplexity. He was a man
of lofty bearing; his countenance was strong and benign as the western
wind; he had a gentle smile, but eyes which piercingly regarded me. He
was of superior beauty, and conducted himself as one having authority.
He was much occupied, and hastening upon some evidently important
errand; but he stopped at once, and gave his attention to me with the
hearty interest in others characteristic of the people.

"Are you a stranger in the country--but newly come to us?"

"A stranger, sir, but not newly arrived."

"And the child?"

"The child ran into my arms about an hour ago."

"Is the boy yours?"

"He is my only child."

"What do you desire for him?"

"I would fain provide for him those things which a father must desire.
I seek food