One of these senses may be described as electrical. One of the little nerve-threads of which I have just told you is developed into a multitude of ramifications which form a sort of cornet. These, under the scalpel and the microscope, appear to be tubes placed in juxtaposition, the outer extremity of which receives the electric fluid and transmits it to the brain, much as our optic nerves receive the waves of light, and our auditory nerves receive the undulations of sound. The beings provided with this sense perceive the electrical condition of bodies, of material things, of plants and flowers, of animals, of the atmosphere, and of clouds. To these beings this electric sense is a source of knowledge which is wholly forbidden to us. Their organic sensations are all different from yours. Their eyes are not constructed like yours; they do not see what you see; they see what you do not see. They are conscious only of the invisible violet rays. But their mode of existence differs from yours, especially through their electric sense. The electric constitution of their world is the cause of the existence and of the development of this sense. Another sense with which I was still more struck, and which was of quite a different character, I found on a second world. This was the sense of orientation. Another of the nerve-threads proceeding from the brain produced a species of winged ear, very light, by means of which the living being perceives his direct bearings. He is conscious of the points of the compass, and turns to the north or the south, the east or the west, instinctively. The atmosphere is full of emanations which you never perceive. This singular sense orients the possessors of it infallibly. It enables them also to discover things concealed in the interior of the Sun, and gives them an insight into some of Nature's secrets which are absolutely hidden from you. I would thus demonstrate to you that in the vast domains of creation an infinite variety exists, and that eternity will be inexhaustibly occupied in gathering and partaking of its flowers and of its fruits. There are worlds where old age is unknown--where lovers are consumed in a delirious fantasy, transported by the intoxication of the body, and careless of the morrow. The active sex never survive these nuptials; the passive sex, oviparous, having secured the perpetuity of the species, sleep their last sleep. Those celestial worlds, where one never grows old, are not without their advantages. [Sidenote: Life too long] [Sidenote: A world without war.]