understand by matter, as light or electricity
is; that the material body is, in the most
literal sense, a vesture, and death
consequently no interruption of the living man's
existence, but simply his extrication from
the natural body—a process which
commences at the moment of what we term
death, and the completion of which, at
furthest, a few days later, is the resurrection
"in power."

The person who weighs the consequences
of these positions will probably see their
practical bearing upon medical science.
This is, however, by no means the proper
place for displaying the proofs and
discussing the consequences of this too
generally unrecognised state of facts.

In pursuance of my habit, I was covertly
observing Mr. Jennings, with all my
caution—I think he perceived it—and I saw
plainly that he was as cautiously observing
me. Lady Mary happening to address me by
my name, as Dr. Hesselius, I saw that he
glanced at me more sharply, and then
became thoughtful for a few minutes.

After this, as I conversed with a gentleman
at the other end of the room, I saw
him look at me more steadily, and with
an interest which I thought I understood.
I then saw him take an opportunity of
chatting with Lady Mary, and was, as one
always is, perfectly aware of being the
subject of a distant inquiry and answer.

This tall clergyman approached me by-
and-by: and in a little time we had got
into conversation. When two people, who
like reading, and know books and places,
having travelled, wish to converse, it is very
strange if they can't find topics. It was not
accident that brought him near me, and led
him into conversation. He knew German,
and had read my Essays on Metaphysical
Medicine, which suggest more than they
actually say.

This courteous man, gentle, shy, plainly
a man of thought and reading, who moving
and talking among us, was not altogether
of us, and whom I already suspected of
leading a life whose transactions and alarms
were carefully concealed, with an impenetrable
reserve from, not only the world,
but his best beloved friends—was cautiously
weighing in his own mind the idea of taking
a certain step with regard to me.

I penetrated his thoughts without his
being aware of it, and was careful to say
nothing which could betray to his sensitive
vigilance my suspicions respecting his
position, or my surmises about his plans
respecting myself.

We chatted upon indifferent subjects for
a time; but at last he said:

"I was very much interested by some
papers of yours, Dr. Hesselius, upon what
you term Metaphysical Medicine—I read
them in German, ten or twelve years ago—
have they been translated?"

"No, I'm sure they have not—I should
have heard. They would have asked my
leave, I think."

"I asked the publishers here, a few
months ago, to get the book for me in the
original German; but they tell me it is out
of print."

"So it is, and has been for some years;
but it flatters me as an author to find that
you have not forgotten my little book,
although," I added, laughing, "ten or
twelve years is a considerable time to have
managed without it; but I suppose you
have been turning the subject over again
in your mind, or something has happened
lately to revive your interest in it."

At this remark, accompanied by a glance
of inquiry, a sudden embarrassment
disturbed Mr. Jennings, analogous to that
which makes a young lady blush and look
foolish. He dropped his eyes, and folded
his hands together uneasily, and looked
oddly, and you would have said, guilty for
a moment.

I helped him out of his awkwardness in
the best way, by appearing not to observe
it, and going straight on, I said: "Those
revivals of interest in a subject happen to
me often; one book suggests another, and
often sends me back a wild-goose chase over
an interval of twenty years. But if you still
care to possess a copy, I shall be only too
happy to provide you; I have still got two
or three by me—and if you allow me to
present one I shall be very much honoured."

"You are very good indeed," he said,
quite at his ease again, in a moment: "I
almost despaired—I don't know how to
thank you."

"Pray don't say a word; the thing is
really so little worth that I am only ashamed
of having offered it, and if you thank me any
more I shall throw it into the fire in a fit of
modesty."

Mr. Jennings laughed. He inquired
where I was staying in London, and
after a little more conversation on a variety
of subjects, he took his departure.

CHAPTER II. THE DOCTOR QUESTIONS LADY
MARY, AND SHE ANSWERS.

"I LIKE your vicar so much, Lady Mary,"
said I, so soon as he was gone. "He has