“‘Properly prepared,’ he continued, ‘your mirror becomes so amazingly sensitive as to not only receive and retain images of things too subtle for solar light, but to bring out and render them visible. Nor is this all. There is light within light, atmosphere within atmosphere, and intelligent beings who dwell within them, and who can commune with man only through such mirrors, upon which they can photograph the information they wish to convey, either by scenes depicted therein, or by words projected thereon. Now, observe. Thoughts are things--they are real, substantial actualities, if not actual matter. They are things that have shadows, shape, form, outline, bulk. Some are flat, others are sharp, cutting, pointed, and go on boring their way through the world from age to age. Others are solid, round, bulky, and stagger when they strike you or impinge upon the world. Thoughts live, die, and grow. Now, attend. Gaze steadily and firmly; desire to see something, no matter what.’ “I smiled incredulously, and observed that one could see one’s face in any bit of glass. “‘True,’ replied he, ‘but you have never seen your soul; and this bauble will show you that. It will reveal events already past, that are now occurring, or that will transpire in the future, on the earth or off it.’ “Much doubting what he said, I told him that, just then, the sceptical mood was on me, and my belief must be forced. He well knew the singular constitution of my mind, and that, in spite of much contrary seeming, I was one of the most obdurate sceptics concerning the supernatural that ever lived. To most of those who have known me, or read what I have written in past years, it may appear strange that I, who have been the accepted champion of all things spectral, should now make such a seeming confession. But human nature is a very strange compound! My heart, my loves, desires, and emotional nature were all on the side of the ghostly, and eagerly grasped and nursed the occult and weird; and when these reigned in my soul I bravely defended the spiritual theory against all comers. I rose to sublime heights of inspiration and speculation, and being thereby rendered morbidly sensitive to affectional influences, readily yielded to the specious social sophistry of the hour, and, for a while, pursued a course from which, had not reason been utterly blinded, I would have shrunk with ineffable horror; but, being surrounded by scores of thousands similarly deluded, it was impossible for a while to break through the accursed meshes of this devil’s net into the clear, cool light of truth beyond.