sphere, but the general out-creation, elimination or projection from the countless hosts of beatified and radiant souls who dwell together and create their own scenery and surrounding, just as a man creates chateaux en espagne, only that in this latter he exists forever on the outside—in the former, dwells within them. In other words, the realm whereof I was an inhabitant was not physical in any sense, nor were any of its subjects or objects; neither were they phantasmal, but were spiritual, in the sublime sense of that much abused term; and although not permanant or fixed, as is a town on earth, yet were none the less true and real.
In order to better comprehend what sort of a place is that world wherein I met Nellie and mine, it will be well if the reader remember that everything save thought is perishable. For instance you have a thought of a pink satin dress, made up in a peculiar style; your father has a thought of a new cottage, complete in all its parts; your brother invents a new-modelled carriage for your mother's use; while your farmer invents a new building, which will serve at once for carriage-house and barn—and all four of you forthwith proceed to realize your several ideals; and in a month the new barn stands upon the brookside, the new cottage peeps forth from its bower of elms, the new carriage rolls along, and in it, clad in your pink satin, you enjoy a ride with the dear old mother. Three days thereafter the cottage and barn catch fire, and the dress and carriage become ashes, and so do all your patterns and models; yet your thoughts are living, still fresh as ever, and all that is necessary, is for all four of you to once more embody them in material garb, and in another month a stranger, having seen the first and not
