isengage themselves, and escape from it. After
which nothing remains but the foul refuse in the vat; the mere _caput
mortuum_ in the crucible; the vile dust and ashes of the tomb. Nor does
inhumation, however deep in the ground, nor drowning in the lowest depths
and darkest caverns of the fathomless abyss, prevent those subtle
essences, rare attenuate spirits, or gases, from escaping; or chain down
to dust those better, nobler elements of the human body. No bars can
imprison them; no vessels detain them from their kindred element, confine
them from their native home."

We are all of us familiar with the more noticeable of these "essences," by
smell, if not by name. Metaphysicians tell us that perceptions and ideas
_will_ follow in a train: perhaps that may account for the sudden
recollection of an old-fashioned story--may the moderns pardon it. A young
Cambridge student, airing his wisdom at a dinner-party, was ingenious upon
the Theory of Winds. He was most eloquent concerning heat and cold;
radiation, rarefaction; polar and equatorial currents; he had brought his
peroration to a close, when he turned round upon a grave Professor of his
College, saying, "And what, sir, do you believe to be the cause of wind?"
The learned man replied, "Pea-soup--pea-soup!" In the group of friends
around a social soup-tureen, must we in future recognize

"The feast of reason, and--the flow of soul!"

How gladly shall we fight the fight of life, hoping that, after death, we
shall meet in a world of sulphureted hydrogen and other gases! And where
do the Sanitary Reformers suppose that, after death, _their_ gases will
go--they who, in life, with asphalte and paving-stones, would have
restrained the souls of their own fathers from ascending into upper air?

Against us let there be no such reproach. Freely let us breathe into our
bosoms some portion of the spirit of the dead. If we live near no
church-yard, let us visit one--Mesmerically, if you please. Now we are on
the way. We see narrow streets and many people; most of the faces that we
meet are pale. Here is a walking funeral; we follow with it to the
church-yard. A corner is turned, and there is another funeral to be
perceived at no great distance in advance. Our walkers trot. The other
party, finding itself almost overtaken, sets off with a decent run. Our
party runs. There is a race for prior attention when they reach the
ground. We become interested. We perceive that one und