the organs no longer, it dispenses therewith, but the principles underlying them still remain,
"Unhurt amid the rush of warring elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds."
A man sits in his study, and thinks of, his father's house, many, many miles away. He sees it;—well, brook, barn, trees, garden, flowers,—all, all just as they really exist. Now, the man's body, being a mere thing of circumstance, still remains in the study, but the man himself is gone; his body and spirit are in the room, but himself is at the old homestead. Space, time, and flight are not to the soul,—only to forms and things of coarser nature and lesser majesty.
The soul thinks "I am there," and—there it is. Certain persons, gifted, can see' things spiritual; all persons can at times, and frequently are sensible of the presence of others, whose bodies are far away. They are made sensible of it by soul-contact. It is possible for a man to project an image of himself to any distance, which image shall be mistaken for himself. These images, being such, of course, cannot speak when questioned by whoever sees them. Whoever can picture the exact simulacrum of himself, can will this figure whither soever he may choose, and then persons who behold this declare they have seen his "spectre," "phantom," "ghost," "wraith," or "double." Again, the man of strong will and pure desires may quit the body spiritually, actually, and be perceptible to others at a distance; may be spoken to, hold conversations, and move material objects, when his body lies scores of leagues away.
"Are there demons?" Yes, two kinds: forms of
