i883*J Correspondence* 431 
the mind. Some say that all our understanding is the result of 
experience. Whence then came the impulses that cause a mere 
tiny babe to twist its face into the regular form of a “ smile,” 
when it might just as readily have assumed what an experienced 
mortal would call a “ howling contortion ” ? But it is invariably 
the same ; nor does it appear to be an easier position of the 
muscles than serenity — or howling. 
Can we conceive what never was, i.e., what our mind has 
not been able to compass with the senses at its disposal ? If we 
are creatures of Evolution, how can we ? Witness our thoughts 
of Time and Space ; we cannot “ think them.” Our ideas of 
“ heaven ” and “ hell ” are extremely material ; in the old 
Mystery plays they dressed up God— -like the Pope ! 
The Spiritualist’s idea is of something like a jet of steam — a 
vapour ; it’s only getting a little warmer ! In fadl we must have 
a parallel to speak from, all earthy and Earthly. How can we, 
then, conceive of the Sublime in the Hereafter, if we inherit it ? 
Can we not see the possibility of a state of “ things ” we cannot 
possibly conceive ? We are afraid to meet that great Strange- 
ness we fancy will supervene after our decease ; but we don’t 
know , we have n’t the least conception of what it will be : all 
our heavens are mere beautiful earths ; “ eye hath not seen, nor 
ear heard ” is truer than we idly dream. I Tis said the whole 
world is in our brain, a mere set of nervous concussions in this 
brain-box — that is life and being ! The beautiful, hard-soft, 
sweetness and sour, music, the landscape, the passions, exist- 
ence, love, the world, the glorious firmament on high, with all 
its blue ethereal sky, are what ? Mere forces adting on our blind 
“ grey and white matter.” And yet knowing this, seeing it, we 
are still vain creatures, knowing not only all about ourselves, but 
also all the ins and outs of the plans of the Almighty : truly a 
big fancy ! 
The other day I read of a tree that “ was in a fury and 
trembled with rage ” at being transplanted. “ Oh,” you say, 
“ there is a physical explanation for all this ; some currents set 
up, or something.” Well, then, that ’s all we are ! 
Can we fancy that the existence of thought will ever be proved 
in plants ? Is not “reflex adtion ” thought, or something very 
like it ? Another sense would probably kill us with terror in a 
few hours. We cannot be so ridiculous now-a-days as to fancy 
we are not capable of it. I was at a social gathering the other 
day, and saw gentlemen and ladies bolt straight up in the air for 
often 4 and 5 feet high, by mere expectancy and laying on of 
hands ; three were enough. Can anyone tell me the reason of 
that ? There is no fancy in what we see ! 
Altogether one is inclined to treat “ sensible” fancies consi- 
derately, and, instead of calling it a diseased imagination, to 
think it may perhaps be a peep in at the future. — I am, &c., 
d. y. c. 
