66 Natural to his refined ideal, Mr. Peebles recommends that a congregation assembled for spiritual communion be arranged in the order of a spiritual circle, alternately negative with positive, the more mediumistic in front, as on the armature. He wants the hall a sanctuary, consecrated as a holy of holies," and used for no other purpose; for a variety of uses is incipient to obsession. Like the temple of the soul, it must be single to holiness, orderly, architecturally beautiful, airy; no somber shading, after the Episcopal style, but full of light and the fragrance of flowers. Boxes, pulpits, and desks intercept the magnetic circulation. "Away with them, and give me a broad, free platform." He earnestly advocates settling educated and trustworthy speakers in yearly engagements. He is in favor of alternate readings between speaker and people, with the interblendings of congregational singing, harmonizing into oneness of spirit. This method he has tried with brilliant success. Only one speaker on the platform at a time is his demand. Forehead to forehead is the line of inspiration. He would have the exercises simple and impressive, lifting the soul to diviner purposes. He cares nothing now about proselyting: is more constructive than destructive. How shall we convert the world? By living example! "We have enough believers," he says, "three millions genuine. Is the world the better for it? That's the question!" Risen above the chronic egotism and selfinflation of mere sensation, to attract idle curiosity, he calmly waits his hour of heavenly illumination, and does his duty, and enjoys his privilege, scattering truth-seed, criticising severely, and lovingly replenishing. Making an effort in to engage there a month's labor for one of our worthy young speakers, he was refused, on the ground that it would not command "big houses." This species of spiritual hydrophobia, poisoning so many city societies, every sensible Spiritualist deplores. Alluding to this matter in a private letter, he writes, "The saying, 'Draw,' provokes me. Dancing jacks and fighting dogs often draw crowds." In moments of trial, when all seems to go wrong, our brother writes to a confiding brother, showing his child-like trust in the higher life: "I am sick in heart, sick in soul, sick of the world, sick of grasping Spiritualists, but not sick of God, heaven, angels, Spiritualism, or you." This said and felt, he rises as an oak that has taken deeper root, indorsing the poet : "In the tempest of life, when the wave and the gale Are around and above, if thy footing should fail, If thine eye should grow dim, and thy caution depart, It injures a magnet to let it lie beside pieces of iron and steel. It should be suspended alone, with armature on. Understanding this law, Mr. Peebles, these days, guards against introductions, just before speaking, as far as it is possible with the rules of courtesy. From some ante-room, where he sits silent to catch the inspiring force, he prefers to pass direct to the rostrum, so that the angel-sphere, inflamed by the sympathy of the audience, may envelop him; for the touch of an angular hand may depolarize the influence. Owing largely to this habit, Emma Hardinge holds so perfect sway over her hearers, lifting them up by the power of heavenly truth. If a speaker is submerged in the combined spheres of a mixed audience, no higher thought is uttered than what floats through the general mind; therefore little or no good is done except to equipoise the magnetism. The speaker on the rostrum should be spiritually insulated, handing down the truth from the ministering angels. When such worship is closed, and the hearts of the people are warmed in love of a purer life, he greets them most cordially, adopting the Quaker style of shaking hands with everybody, imparting in that friendly grasp the virtue which the spirit imparted to him. Truthfully said the Nazarene, adverting to this law, " And the glory which Thou hast given me I have given them, that they may be one, even as Thou and I are one." 66 As an instance illustrative of his strict fidelity to order, may be mentioned his experience at Sturgis, when dedicating the "Spiritual Church," some of the brick of which he carried in his own arms. When the vast congregation was seated, he noticed just in front of him a woman of gross sphere, dark to him as a case of obsession." The occasion demanded his best efforts. The woman was a sister, whom he would not offend for his right hand. What should he do? To rouse undue will-force might be combative; there was danger of a failure. Mustering moral courage, he sent a request for her to vacate the seat, to be supplied by another, better adapted to a spiritual circle. The woman, understanding the law, gave heed with a commendable grace, which touched his sympathy and brought her immediately into the sphere of inspiration, when the house became a Pentecost, the Spirit hovering on the people as with "tongues of fire." "By the night visions," "In a deep sleep," "I was in the Spirit on the Lord's Day," "And his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as snow!" What meaneth all this? The angel knoweth, not philosophy; and the angel, without our volition, hath ushered us within the pavilion of the Spirit to see and hear. Have we not touched the spheres of heaven? By some prophet-guardian, we have seen 66 signs in the stars," writings upon scrolls, celestial scenery, and angel forms arrayed in the beauty-light of immortality; have heard the mystic voices, and the music of seraph choirs; have had the perception of principles, and felt the deep impression of soul in the silence of spirit-thought, too holy for utterance. With Paul, we sometimes think the words heard " are not lawful to utter." God help us if we sin the sin of presumption. Under such guidance, we have seen that nuptials in heaven are keyed to qualification. "When thou art worthy," is the invariable rule of the "Beloved John;" "They that are accounted worthy to obtain that world" is the moral lesson of Jesus. In spirit-life hearts are to be earned at a great price. Some dear angel looks down into our soul, and loves there divinely, and then weighs our soul in the scale of justice, poised on the pivot of harmony. Is it faithful? is it pure? is it the echo-voice of sacrificing love? Ah! what a sin to weep over, if we are jealous because a sainted angel loves that soul more than we do! Who have the strongest claims? They who love us the most morally, the most wisely, the most tenderly, the most sacredly, the most spiritually. So the hearts we would hold in our bosoms must be preserved with eternal vigilance. To win victory is to love with an ever watchful self-denial. What a momentous truth! what a solemn warning in our reckless, guilt-impassioned world! What saith the angel by our side? "There are exiled hearts, disappointed hearts, bleeding hearts, bruised and riven hearts, forgiving hearts that have secrets, hearts so mournful, so spiritual, that when we hither come to see their puri-. ty, behold, it is to witness a crucifixion more pitiful than that of Calvary, — hearts never mated in your world, but kept in reserve till the bride or bridegroom cometh from the house of many mansions to meet the emancipated prisoner of earth,— hearts that are doves going forth from the ark with olive-branches to humanity, whose very oil of love is pressed out by suffering for others' good, blessing everybody else, but ever pleading to see face to face, and hold hand within hand, whom Divine Wisdom has anointed for nuptials in heaven.' Under the dissolving crimson of life's setting sun, it is indeed a privilege to be friendly to such hearts, to touch them down to the springs, and be silent. Here is a 66 Paradise Lost," whose melancholy solitude that fall there are dews, and forth from their refreshing will unfold an Eden in which the betrothed Eve shall walk to greet her beloved 'neath the Tree of Life.” is pleasure; for the tears Whilst in Washington, Mr. Peebles one day called upon his esteemed friend, H. Clay Preuss, who, in spiritual entrancement, improvised a beautiful poem, entitled "Isle of the Blest," soon after published in "The Banner of Light," and set to music in "The Spiritual Harp." The psychometric connoisseur will recognize here the corroboration of our vision : "I see an isle, like woman's smile, "Prefigured here, in marriage sphere, No one, not even Mr. Peebles himself, ever unveiled to us the secret hidden in his interesting editorial in "The Banner of Light,” entitled, "The Two Star-Sisters of France." It is another witness of the truth of our vision. He outlines the life-history of Ernest Renan and his sister Henriette, and Louis XVI. and his sister “Madame Elizabeth." Henriette accompanied Ernest and his wife on his scientific mission into ancient Phoenicia, where brother and sister were both seized with a malignant fever. They were two souls warm with harmonious thought, and hearts beating as one. She went with him on to the loftiest pinnacles of Lebanon's mountains, and across the desert sands that line the Jordan, exchanging ideas with him, and living his very life. "A French writer says, 'Notwithstanding her delicate health, she traveled to average eight leagues a day, being both a sort of private secretary who divined her brother's thoughts, and a sister of charity who watched with angelic tenderness over a precious existence, which she justly considered as the effulgent glory of her family and her name.' Though these long, tiresome journeys greatly fatigued her, she continued to assist her brother in writing 'The Life of Jesus,' till she felt the approaches of malignant fever. The symptoms grew worse; she was dangerous: yet her courage, for a brother's sake, seemed to defy the death-angel's touch. Ernest, hastening from 'Le Caton' with the surgeon, fell dangerously ill with the same fever. There they lay, brother and sister, sick and alone in a foreign land, the brother summoning all his energies to minister to his sister; the sister hiding her agony, concealing her sufferings, and struggling against the fever that was burning to her being's core, to watch by her brother's sick pillow. They fought death together, fought for each other, fought till they became unconscious. The sister awoke in heaven. Owing to Renan's robust constitution he survived; and, coming to consciousness, his first incoherent words were, 'Where's my sister?' The tearful eye of the surgeon told the story! Here my pen may drop. A recent writer of France says, 'Hunting in a friend's library, I came upon a pamphlet whose every line drew a tear. I know nothing more touching, sadder, or more beautiful, than the master-piece of a great thinker who bids a last farewell to a noble soul,' that a sister!'" In telling this touching story, Mr. Peebles evidently intends to compare himself in thought to Renan, traveling in quest of truth, his sister, his angel-guide, who passed on before him, long before him, but, returning found his heart beating with her own the same musical concord; and "lo! she is by his side, traveling with him to the land of Adonis, near the holy Byblus and the sacred waters where the women of the ancient mysteries came to mingle their tears, to rest in the bosom of God." The second star of France is Madame Elizabeth, "Queen of Morn," the harbinger of Mr. Peebles's pilgrimage over this strange world of ours. "The Queen of Morn," and "The Spiritual Pilgrim!" this relation is the enchantment of the life he lives, this the soul of experiences, that threads life's silver chords round the world whither he goes, this the "Chain of Pearls" that blossoms ever upon his bosom to make his pilgrimage beautiful and fragrant with a love that |