"And you had not been thinking of that person, nor had there been any incident as a reminder?"
"I believe not."
"My explanation is, that this person from some cause had been led to think of you intently, and so came to you in spirit. There was actual presence, and you saw each other with the eyes of your minds."
"But, my wise reasoner," said Mr. Delancy, "it was the bodily form—with face, eyes, hands, feet and material garments—that was seen, not the spirit. If our spirits have eyes that see, why they can only see spiritual things."
"Has not a spirit a face, and hands, and feet?" asked Rose, with a confidence that caused the old man to look at her almost wonderingly.
"Not a face, and hands, and feet like these of mine," he answered.
"Yes, like them," she replied, "but of spiritual substance."
"Spiritual substance! That is a novel term. This is substance." And Mr. Delancy grasped the arm of a chair.
"No, that is material and unsubstantial," she calmly replied; "it is subject to change and decay. A hundred years from now and there may be no visible sign that it had ever been. But the soul is imperishable and immortal; the only thing about man that is really substantial. And now," she added, "for the faces of our spirits. What gives to our natural faces their form, beauty and expression? Is it not the soul-face within? Remove that by death, and all life, thought and feeling are gone from the stolid effigy. And so you see, Mr. Delancy, that our minds must be formed of spiritual substance, and that our bodies are but the outward material clothing which the soul puts on for action and use in this world of nature."
"Why, you are a young philosopher!" exclaimed Mr. Delancy, looking in wonder at his fair companion.