"Do you never use the words—'I see it clearly'—meaning that you see some form of truth presented to your mind. As, for instance,—if I say, 'To be good is to be happy,' you will answer, 'Oh, yes; I see that clearly.' Your soul, then, has, at least, the sense of sight. And that it has the sense of taste also, will, I think, be clear to you, when you remember bow much you enjoy the reading of a good book, wherein is food for the mind. Healthy food is sometimes presented in so unpalatable a shape, that the taste rejects it; and so it is with truth, which is the mind's food. I instance this, to make it clearer to you. So you see that the soul has at least two senses—sight and taste. That it has feeling needs scarcely an illustration. The mind is hurt quite as easily as the body, and, the path of an injury is usually more permanent. The child who has been punished unjustly feels the injury inflicted on his spirit, days, months, and, it may be, years, after the body has lost the smarting consciousness of stripes. And you know that sharp words pierce the mind with acutest pain. We may speak daggers, as well as use them. Is this at all clear to you, Miss Markland?"
"Oh, very clear! How strange that I should never have thought of this myself! Yes—I see, hear, taste, and feel with my mind, as well as with my body."
"Think a little more deeply," said the old man. "If the mind have senses, must it not have a body?"
"A body! You are going too deep for me, Mr. Allison. We say mind and body, to indicate that one is immaterial, and the other substantial."
"May there not be such a thing as a spiritual as well as a material substance?"
"To say spiritual substance, sounds, in my ears, like a contradiction in terms," said Fanny.
"There must be a substance before there can be a permanent impression. The mind receives and retains the most lasting impressions; therefore, it must be an organized substance—but spiritual, not material. You will see this clearer, if you think of the endurance of habit. 'As the twig is bent, the tree's inclined,' is a trite saying that aptly illustrates the subject about which we are now conversing. If the mind were not a substance and a form, how could it receive and retain impressions?"
"True."
"And to advance a step further—if the mind have form, what is that form?"
"The human form, if any," was the answer.