As the tempest within my spirit grew less, I began to _feel_ a holy presence approaching. Presently a low, soft strain of exquisitely-modulated music fell upon my hearing; so faint, yet so sweet, did it at first appear that it seemed to blend with and form a part of the music of the murmuring waters and rustling leaves. Gradually it swelled louder, clearer, and sweeter, until it culminated in a burst of triumphant ecstasy, that made the very grasses leap in unison. My whole being was stilled; a deep peace pervaded my system. I was a _man_ again,—a creature of God, and one worthy to become a representative of his kingdom. As these thoughts permeated my being, causing it to grow calm and restful, I felt what seemed to be a breath of cool, invigorating air upon my temples, thrilling my whole frame with an indescribable sensation of delight, and, on looking up, I was amazed, but not startled, to observe the form of a venerable patriarch bending over me, and manipulating my brow with the tips of his fingers. His face was smooth and fair, as though no carking care had ever left its impress thereon, surmounted by a lofty brow, gleaming with a might of intellect, and crowned with a wealth of snowy, silken hair. A long, massy beard, lustrous with whiteness, fell upon his breast. He was clad in a long, purple robe of silken stuff; sandals of glistening brightness were upon his feet, while in his hand he carried a staff that was remarkable for its brilliancy. His features were luminous with the light of reflected love and benevolence; a halo of radiance encircled his whole being, which scintillated with sparks of light as he moved. Subsequently I learned that this halo was the aura flowing forth from his spiritual structure, the brilliancy of which revealed the purity and beauty of his interior condition. Abashed and humbled before the majestic glory of this presence, I hid my face from sight, and cowered down as if for concealment. “Fear not, my son, I have come to help and encourage thee; thy mortal ways were rough and devious; thy spiritual paths shall yet be ways of peace. Lift up thine head, that thy soul may be annointed with the balm of healing.” I had heard no sound of voice, and yet these were the thoughts that flowed into the interior sensorium of my mind, as the mystic being continued to soothe my brow with his finger-tips. I raised my head in questioning amaze, and gazed upon him in wonder. “Thee questions who and what I am,” again came the thoughts, not spoken, but impressed upon my mind; “I am one appointed to seek out and instruct souls like thine, who are in need of assistance; thee mayst call me ‘Benja, the Missionary;’ I am drawn to thee, to point out the way of salvation, and to give thee strength and encouragement; thou hast fought the first battle and won the victory; press on, and thou shalt win the goal.”