“‘What! Do you mean to tell me that through that telescope, as you call it, a living man can behold all that is going on in Mars and Jupiter?’ “‘Aye!’ said he, ‘and half a million planets, suns and systems more. It will reveal the fate or fortune of any one, alive or dead. But to the proof.’ As he spoke, it seemed that a sort of tube of light extended itself toward my eyes, and through it I beheld, as in a diorama, each and all of the terrible and painful scenes of what I believe to be my most recent life on the earth. I beheld all my few joys and successes, and all the countless agonies of body and soul, by which they had been girdled. Men met the phantom of myself, with smiles upon their faces, and seemed to speak in honied phrases, to make themselves believed, and then these shadows stabbed at the listener and he fell, but did not seem to die, for a grisly phantom ever hovered over him, but from pity forbore to strike. “The scene changed. It appeared to be a rural village--the date, in fiery figures on the corner of the field, was 1852. It was a barber’s shop, and a light, happy-hearted youth was therein pursuing his avocation, and earning bread and health. This youth was apparently gifted to look beyond the veil, and into the dim regions of the dead; and it seemed that this was known, for presently people flocked about him, and the scene closed. “Again the magic picture presented this man as in public life; cliques made use of him, flattered his vanity, and he was led into errors of conduct and judgment, but none so great as manifested by others around him; but, on the instant that this man discovered his error, and announced it, ten thousand daggers were levelled at his heart, ten thousand tongues defamed him--and for what? Because he had been true to his knowledge, his conscience and his God. He fell beneath the strokes of those who had sworn themselves his friends and the friends of all mankind. See him now with his heart bowed down. “It shifts; and lo! the man appears again. Consumed by the fires of hatred, envy, ingratitude and venom of his former friends, he has risen again. ‘_Je renais de mes cendres_,’ was the motto on the banner that he floated to the breeze. He changed his mode of life. One of those who were the very first to take him from his labor, and bring him before the world, still clung to him, declared that even death should never alienate him (for the pantomime was as readable as speech), and the deceiver was believed. “Again the phantorama changed. The barber-orator had reached to competence--had gained much gold, a deal of philosophy, and but very little wisdom with it all, for he still believed the speech of people; measured men and women by the standard of his own heart, and believed that honest say was honest mean. He had forgotten that, after all, this is but a baby world, and still went on in the same old way, trusting and suffering.