This strange figure entered my cabin, and without introduction or sign of salutation seated himself in my easy chair as though he were a member of my household, an apparent rudeness which will be explained as I proceed. I had now the first opportunity to get a good survey of my visitor. He was a person of surpassing loveliness. His face was of that spiritual kind which is seldom seen off the canvas of some of our art masters, and it reflected a kindness of heart that is never realized except by the purest religious fancy. His form was so high and elaborate in its development, that I have only seen an approach to it in the best models. His singular attractiveness I can only compare to that affinity which comes of pure sexual love, captivating the beholder with a presence which drives away all thought but it. His complexion had that ruddy clearness and transparency indicative of perfect health. The hair of his head and beard,--both long and waving over shoulders and breast,--was of a hue that can be best described as the color of the ripe filbert, with the fineness and lustre of unwoven silk. His hands, although scrupulously clean and finely shaped, bore the unmistakable signs of manual toil; and yet he had the superior air and manner of one whose mission it was to instruct. As he sat before me I felt like a child in the presence of a loved and loving parent. My impression of him was entirely correct, since his first word of utterance to me was a term of endearment. “My brother,” said he, “you have a beautiful world. That moon of yours is magnificent.” To me this was a happy beginning. Here was, thought I, a man after my own heart, whose soul was above the common things of life. I could compare notes with him touching my study of Mars. Providence had then sent me, at last, what I had so wanted,--some one to share and enjoy with me the triumphs of my labor; so I immediately said to him: “As to the moon, it is certainly very serviceable as a night reflector of the sun’s light; but, since its size is comparatively insignificant, and its surface desolate and uninhabited, it is thus an object of very little importance among heavenly bodies. Speaking of magnificent planets, what do you think of Mars?” “Mars suits me,” said my visitor. Thinking my question too general, I inquired: “Do you think Mars inhabited?” “I am a good proof that it is,” said he. “I left that planet--let me see--by your time, about one hour ago.” “I either misunderstood you, or you are not serious. It is impossible.”