In the year 1716, Polheim invited him to go with him to Lund, on a visit to Charles XII., who had just escaped from Stralsund. He was very kindly received by the King, and obtained from him his official appointment as Assessor. He was to assist Polheim in his undertakings, to have a seat in the College of Mines, and to give his advice, especially when any business of a mathematical nature was on hand. Charles seems to have at once discerned the rare abilities of Swedenborg, and with a desire of uniting him in still closer bonds of amity with his favorite Polheim, he advised Polheim to give him his daughter in marriage. To this proposal Swedenborg appears to have been in nowise averse. He lived with Polheim, at once as his coadjutor, and as his pupil in mathematics; and having thus constant opportunities of seeing the fair Emerentia, Polheim’s second daughter, had become enamored of her graces. In one of his letters, he remarks: “Polheim’s eldest daughter is promised to a page of the king’s. I wonder what people say of this in relation to myself. His second daughter is, in my opinion, much the handsomest.” The attachment, however, was not mutual, and the lady would not allow herself to be betrothed. Her father, who deeply loved Swedenborg, caused a written agreement to be drawn up, promising his daughter at some future day. This document, Emerentia, from filial obedience signed; but, as ladies generally do, when forced to love in this way, took to sighs and sadness, which so affected her brother with sorrow, that he secretly purloined the agreement from Swedenborg. The paper was soon missed; for Swedenborg read it over frequently, and, in his grief at its loss, besought Polheim to replace it by a new one. But as Swedenborg now discovered the pain which he gave to the object of his affections, he at once relinquished all claim to her hand, and left her father’s house. This was his last, as it was his first endeavor after marriage. In after years, when jocosely asked whether he had ever been desirous of marrying, he answered: “In my youth I was once on the road to matrimony.” And on being asked what was the obstacle, with his characteristic simplicity he said: “She would not have me.” Considering the studious and abstracted life which he eventually led, it is not to be regretted that he remained unwedded. That he was no harsh despiser of the sex, we know well from his writings; and that his life was in agreement with his books, we also know. The loveliest descriptions of female grace and beauty we have ever met with, are contained in his works, chiefly in his treatise on “Conjugial Love.” M. Sandell, a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences in Sweden, who pronounced a magnificent eulogium on his fellow-member, Swedenborg, shortly after his death, says: “Though Swedenborg was never married, it was not owing to any indifference toward the sex; for he esteemed the company of a fine, intelligent woman as one of the most