soul involuntarily bowed itself in awe: and as the expression, "the workshop of the Eternal God; the orchestra of the Symphonies, the ladder reaching from Nothing to the Great Dome, beneath which sits in awful majesty, the Great I am,"—reached my understanding, there went up from the soul's deepest profound a desire to know who, what, and where was this supreme Ruler of the starry skies.
Scarcely was this thought fairly formed, when a deep slumber gently but rapidly stole over me. How long it continued I know not, but when consciousness for a moment returned again, I found myself brushing the dust from my apparel, beneath the trees from which my first journey had commenced. This occupation could not have lasted more than a minute, when I started off mechanically toward a deeper nook, and more secluded spot among the trees and bushes, apparently guided by instinct, or directed by a power above myself. And I lay me down, as if wearied with undue physical labor, and soon a gentle buzzing sound, like unto that made by myriad insects when the Day-God hies him to his slumber, and all the great, big world is still, lulled me into a sweet and soft repose. And a deep sleep fell upon my eyelids; and in that strange, mysterious rest, I experienced that which was not all a dream. I hasten to present the result of this last display of power.
The Flight.
Lightly, as floats the atom on a sunbeam, swiftly as the bird flies, gaily as a laughing child, a spiritual form sailed stilly through the Space. Beneath it rolled
