Sitting in the companionship of that noble mind, reading with him his works, listening to his songs of beauty, witnessing his dreams for the remission of human ills, painted as they were on the sensorium of his soul, in colors of gorgeous splendor; breathing in the perfume of his holiest aspirations, watching his struggles and triumphs,—I became purified and purged of old crudities, and went out from that presence with a determination to do something for humanity, to be something in the great arena of life; and from that determination I have never strayed. Born of this desire,—to do something for the good of humanity,—there came to my soul a new strength unlike anything I had known before; and which enabled me to enter dens of vice in search of souls to aid without danger of contamination, or of falling a victim to temptation. Of my work in this direction I shall speak in a future chapter; but first I wish to tell you of a visit I have made to one of our brightest spirits; one whose songs are known and sung the wide world over. CHAPTER XXIV. A VISIT TO ROBERT BURNS. I had long been pressed and impressed to pay a visit to the spirit home of Robert Burns, Scotland’s favored child of song, where he extends the thorough hospitality of a genial heart, and where all kindred souls are welcomed with royal cordiality. I had met Burns upon many occasions since my entrance to the joys of spirit life. I had seen him in the public convocations of poets, had been with him at friendly gatherings where souls like his meet to enjoy the rich and varied productions of each other’s minds; I had seen him in hall and bower, amid lofty and amid lowly scenes; and finally I had received a visit from him in my own private domain. But as yet I had never responded to his kindly, urgent invitations, nor to my own promptings, to return the visit. An opportunity at length presented itself for me to do so, and accordingly, with a friend, who wished me to travel leisurely as mortals do, and who accompanied me to point out the natural beauties and points of interest along our route, I set out with a joyful spirit, and anticipations of a rich treat, to visit the spirit home of Scotia’s immortal bard. I will not weary you by descriptions of our journey. The time is coming when the localities and scenery of spirit life will be described to mortals by those who are fully competent to do so. At present, I will confine myself to the object of my journey, namely, the arrival at the spirit home of the poet.