Can Such Things Be?

For by death is wrought greater change than hath been shown. Whereas in general the spirit thatremoved cometh back upon occasion, and is sometimes seen of those in flesh (appearing in theform of the body it bore) yet it hath happened that the veritable body without the spirit hath walked. And it is attested of those encountering who have lived to speak thereon that a lich so raised up hathno natural affection, nor remembrance thereof, but only hate. Also, it is known that some spiritswhich in life were benign become by death evil altogether.-Hali. ONE dark night in midsummer a man waking from a dreamless sleep in a forest lifted his head fromthe earth, and staring a few moments into the blackness, said: "Catherine Larue." He said nothingmore; no reason was known to him why he should have said so much. The man was Halpin Frayser. He lived in St. Helena, but where he lives now is uncertain, for he isdead. One who practices sleeping in the woods with nothing under him but the dry leaves and thedamp earth, and nothing over him but the branches from which the leaves have fallen and the skyfrom which the earth has fallen, cannot hope for great longevity, and Frayser had already attainedthe age of thirty-two. There are persons in this world, millions of persons, and far and away the bestpersons, who regard that as a very advanced age. They are the children. To those who view thevoyage of life from the port of departure the bark that has accomplished any considerable distanceappears already in close approach to the farther shore. However, it is not certain that Halpin Fraysercame to his death by exposure. He had been all day in the hills west of the Napa Valley, looking for doves and such small game aswas in season. Late in the afternoon it had come on to be cloudy, and he had lost his bearings; andalthough he had only to go always downhill-everywhere the way to safety when one is lost-theabsence of trails had so impeded him that he was overtaken by night while still in the forest. Unablein the darkness to penetrate the thickets of manzanita and other undergrowth, utterly bewilderedand overcome with fatigue, he had lain down near the root of a large madroño and fallen into adreamless sleep. It was hours later, in the very middle of the night, that one of God's mysteriousmessengers, gliding ahead of the incalculable host of his companions sweeping westward with thedawn line, pronounced the awakening word in the ear of the sleeper, who sat upright and spoke, heknew not why, a name, he knew not whose.