and unaccompanied by any particulars; but referring to persons and places, which enabled an agent sent out to America by his family, to ascertain the following facts. After having been about a twelvemonth in the United States, he passed into Canada, and there, it appeared, became associated with a small band of independent adventurers, some twenty in number, bound on a journey into the fur regions of the far north-west. The party made, it seemed, one tolerably fortunate journey, and returned for a second venture in the following year. But having been surprised one night in their camp, on the further side of the Rocky Mountains, by a small band of marauding Indians, not much exceeding their own in number, they had had to engage in a desperate struggle in which several of both parties were slain. Among these was Julian Lindisfarn. Of course as large material interests depended on the fact of his death, it was desirable that the evidence of it should be satisfactory. And that which the agent, who had been sent to America for the purpose, was enabled to obtain, was perfectly so. He had spoken with, and brought back with him the authenticated testimony of three survivors of the fray with the Indians, who had seen him slain by them. These facts became known to his family in 1817. The unfortunate young man must have been about four-and-twenty at the time of his death. This was the event that so materially changed, as has been remarked, the state of things at Lindisfarn Chase. Mr. Oliver Lindisfarn's twin daughters became the coheiresses of Lindisfarn. It cannot be supposed that under the circumstances, Julian Lindisfarn's death should have been felt to be otherwise than a fortunate event by most of the members of his family. The Silverton public naturally felt, and said, that it was the best thing that could have happened in every point of view. Some additional tears wetted poor Lady Sempronia's pillow. But it was in the lone house in the moor, that Julian Lindisfarn's death caused the sharpest pang. END OF PART I. L. E. L. "Whose heart was breaking for a little love."-E. B. BROWNING. I turn my face in silence to the wall; My heart is breaking for a little love. And birds mate one by one, And leaves peep out, for springtide is begun. I feel no spring, while spring is bursting forth; Rivulets rise and run, Whilst lilies bud, for springtide is begun. All love, are loved, save only I; their hearts Whilst beehives wake and whirr, And rabbit thins his fur, In living spring that sets the world astir. I deck myself with silks and jewelry, With rosemary and myrrh, For in quick spring the sap is all astir. Perhaps some Saints in glory guess the truth, Perhaps some Angels read it as they move, And cry one to another piteously: Her heart is breaking for a little love. Tho' other things have birth, They leap and sing for mirth, When springtime wakes and clothes and feeds the earth. Yet saith a Saint: Take patience for thy hurt; And love make fat thy dearth, When new spring builds new heaven and clean new earth. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. THE UNSPIRITUAL WORLD OF SPIRITS. BY R. H. HUTTON. "Let the greatest part of the newes thou hearest be the least part of what thou beleevest, lest the greatest part of what thou beleevest be the least part of what is true."—QUARLES' Enchiridion, Book ii., 51. "In the meditation of Divine mysteries keep thy heart humble and thy thoughts holy; let philosophy not be ashamed to be confuted, nor logick blush to be confounded; what thou can'st not prove, approve; what thou can'st not comprehend, beleeve; and what thou can'st beleeve, admire; so shall thy ignorance be satisfied in thy faith and thy doubts swallowed up with wonders. The best way to see daylight is to put out thy candle."-QUARLES' Enchiridion, Book iv., 91. THE coldest scepticism of mind about mere marvels is by no means inconsistent with a very ready and almost undiscriminating faith with regard to the greater Divine truths, as we see in the apparent contradiction between the two fine though quaint sayings of Quarles which are prefixed to this paper. "Let the greatest part of the newes thou hearest be the least part of what thou beleevest, lest the greatest part of what thou beleevest be the least part of what is true,”—refers, as I understand it, to the sort of marvels, of which our modern spiritual manifestations are the best possible instances, which run like wildfire from mouth to mouth, but in the end satisfy nothing but the most idle curiosity. But when Quarles came to speak of any truth that quenched or even seemed at first sight really to quench the spiritual thirst within man, there was scarcely any limit to his mysticism, "that which thou can'st not comprehend, beleeve," and again," the best way to see daylight is to put out thy candle," which seems to be an exhortation to something like measureless credulousness towards any asserted truth that can kindle within us somewhat of the divine promise and mysterious beauty of the dawn. There may be some exaggeration in the spirit of this old-fashioned wisdom, but it suggests at all events, I think, the true spirit in which to judge the superstitions of our own day. There is nothing which one would not be glad to accept, or at all events earnestly examine, if we were only clear that the belief in it would communicate wider and deeper meaning to our ordinary thoughts and actions. On the other hand, even if we ought not to reject, as Quarles bids us, all mere marvels, simply in order to keep on the cautious side, it is at least well to arrange them carefully in the light of what they do or do not tell us beyond themselves, that we may be in no danger of exchanging our faith in God for the instincts of those spiritual gamblers,-common enough in all ages,-who have actually preferred riddles to truths, shadows to full light,-the oracles of Sybils and the dim auguries of dreams, to the teachings of a watchful conscience and of a universal revelation. The publication of Mr. D. D. Home's autobiography of marvel, and the simultaneous stimulus given to the same superstition by the production in America of what are called spirit-photographs (in other words, daguerreotypes of ghosts), by "medium-artists," in Boston and Roxbury, Massachusetts, point to this as a fitting moment to put together the disjecta membra of this fanaticism, and show in what general conclusions, if any, it tries to land its believers. Mr. Home speaks of himself as a kind of missionary and evangelist, and of his gospel as "glorious" truth. Some of his stories are attested by men of known integrity, though doubtful and not unbiassed judgment, like Dr. Wilkinson, the disciple of Swedenborg. I have often heard Mr. Home's honesty seriously impugned, but even by those who impugned it, the physical marvels he achieved have been partially admitted. One eminent man who believes that he has proved Mr. Home at least in part an impostor, by betraying him into delivering messages from an imaginary Aunt who never existed at all, is yet quite unable to explain the way in which a heavy table "shot" about the room at the first touch of Mr. Home's fingers. Some who doubt Mr. Home, believe in Mr. Home's gospel as proclaimed by other and, as they say, sincerer evangelists. Some of the spirit-photographs, again, have been forged, as is now admitted, by greedy artists. But still the existence of a genuine art of ghostly-portrait-painting has, it is asserted, been amply demonstrated, the only remaining question being that of individual authenticity. I can neither believe these so-called facts, nor am I in a position, on any investigation of my own, to deny them, but having unfortunately lost a good deal of time in this morbid literature, it seems to be worth while to examine what class of inferences they would suggest. What is the sort of conclusion to which they would lead us concerning the nature and occupations of the disembodied spirits with which they profess to put us into communication? My own view is that the communicating spirits, if such there be, are characterized by faculties and tastes in exactly inverse proportion to the spiritual needs of human nature. What is most remarkable and universal amongst them is the muscular sense, and their great delight appears to be to rival the ancient Egyptians in lifting great weights by associated efforts, but unlike them, their exertions are usually by no means humble and constructive but vainglorious and destructive, and except when they dash a thing to pieces, which is not uncommon, they only lift it and put it down again like children, to show how much they can do. Besides appealing to the muscular sense, they appeal to the * "Incidents of my Life," by D. D. Home. Longman. sense of heat and cold; they can affect the smell very powerfully; it is now discovered that they can effect chemical changes, especially on nitrate of silver; they can impress human ears with almost any kind of imitative and inarticulate sounds, but find the greatest difficulty (rarely overcome) in articulate speech; they can play on the harmonium, but no more elaborate instrument; they find a difficulty again, frequently insuperable, in appealing to our sense of vision; in disposition they are noisy and puerile; they are very fond of the game of touch, in which they have a great advantage over us, as being invisible; they are addicted to sleight of hand, liking of all things a small bell to tinkle or a handkerchief to knot; they can some of them drink, and, when they can, do not appear to be teetotallers; they are some of them affectionate and some of them malicious; but all of them are weak in their intellects and most of them perverted in their conscience; while in religious opinions they are either more uncertain than ever, or vehemently at variance with each other. So much for the disembodied Europeans and Americans. There is, however, reason to suppose that the national arrangements of this globe are preserved intact among the spirit-mediators. The Chinese, I have recently learned, have spiritwritings of their own. But these communications appear to know nothing of European civilization, and assume the truth of the popular Chinese faith. The communicating spirits, as becomes Orientals, are very much more grave and decorous in their proceedings than ours. They seem to expect to be fed; and eat and drink without shame ; there is no noise and no romping. No flips on the knees, no knotted handkerchiefs, disturb the dignity of the séances; the spirits write with a reed on sand instead of using a medium's hand; they are generally some four or five centuries old, but do not appear to have made any more progress in the invisible China, than they did in the visible, which is a rather alarming consideration to connect with Mr. Home's "glorious truths" and yet I see no reason why the Chinese spirit-writings should not be just as true as the English. And in the main they resemble the English spirits; for they can produce muscular effects with considerable ease; they can make themselves heard, but not in articulate speech; they have the same difficulty in manifesting themselves to the vision; the efforts they make in composition are brief, and generally obscure ;— in short, to the most intellectual perceptions they make the least appeal; they do not profess to touch the conscience, and demand only the minimum of intellectual culture. I have amused myself with going a little systematically into the psychology of these hypothetical creatures, and will detail the result. A spiritual world is revealed to us in which everything appears to be less spiritual than in our actual world; in which the muscular revelations are by far the most successful and pronounced; and |