As we conversed, there came a spirit, who paused in front of us, dark and sullen. His raiment was sombre and grim, like his thoughts. “Can you tell me where heaven is?” he grumbled, “I paid a preacher to gain it for me, and now having lost all else, I want that.” “Poor brother,” replied the elder, “you search for what you can never find outside of yourself.” “You are a deceiver!” he muttered as he fled away. The elder brother gazed after him sadly, and turning said: “On earth he was a miser, and who can count the years before his regeneration? He sought wealth, trusting to others his religious and moral culture. The recording angel has written against his name not one charity, not one unselfish deed. He now must wander in self-torment, seeking and finding not.” “Was he of consequence on earth?” I asked, for he was proud and haughty in his degradation. “Thousands trembled at his beck, for he had made them dependents and slaves. He had vast riches, houses and lands, mortgages and deeds. He was wise in getting wealth; but here mortgages and deeds are unknown, and he becomes the least in the kingdom; morally idiotic, mentally dwarfed, and a pitiable object of our compassion.” “How long before he will gain the light?” “Ah! who but God can tell!” sighed my instructor. “Who can tell? Centuries may go by. He must first learn to ask; first learn humility and his mistakes. Then some kind angels will attempt his education. They will lead him out of his mental selfishness, and he will begin as a child in the old life. His task will be difficult because he can not enter the sphere of receptivity, as we are able to do, and thus absorb knowledge from others. His nature must first change, and complete regeneration be accomplished.” The coming of this pitiable one brought a wave of sadness over us, but it passed, and the sun was more gladsome after breaking from the clouds. I had rested in delightful sleep; I do not know how often, and the old life was like a dream. It was not possible I had been sick, for I was so strong, so gladsome in my strength, and activity was a delight. My mind broadened. Contact with my companions gave me enlarged ideas. To think was to learn; to wish was to know. I was able to look beyond the effect to the cause. I could read the law in the result. Every day brought grander views, and my mental horizon expanded. Even in this larger growth I found rest. The faculties, dwarfed and starved in the old time, called for activity. The weariness of the body I was leaving behind me. How lovingly my companions would surround me with conditions of repose. How they gave me fullness of life, and drew to me those who would reveal the knowledge it was my desire to learn! Then suddenly one evening I felt an earthward impulse. What power drew me thitherward? “Is our sister disturbed?” asked my gentle companion.