On the second Expedition it was arranged that as soon as I had corrected the last proof of his "Midian," I should make my way out to Cairo and Suez, and get the Khedive to send me on. I had been restless with impatience to start ever since he had been gone, and I was on board an Austrian-Lloyd's as soon as the last proof was out of my hand and I was free. About seventy of my friends came to see me off, and as it was heavy weather, the passengers were all very sick, and I had the ship pretty well to myself. At Corfú we had full moon and the water like oil, but on steaming out there was a rough sea, and deluges of rain and darkness all through the Ionian Islands, which did not better itself till we had passed Gozo. Landing at Alexandria, I immediately found my letters and instructions, which did not please me much, as "I was not to attempt to join unless I could do so in proper order;" it remained to be seen what "proper order" meant. I always wonder when people sleep in Alexandria, for the whole night long there is a perfect pandemonium of clogs, carriages, cracking of whips, and pleasure-parties.

I went off at once to Cairo, and I had the pleasure of seeing a great deal of our Consul-General, Mr. and Mrs. Vivian. I also had the worry of learning that the last Sambúk (or open boat) had gone the day before. Not that I could have gone in her, because that would decidedly not have been "going properly," but I should have sent loads of things by it. I did not want to stop for the gaieties of Cairo; I wanted to get as near as I could to the opposite side of the water, and watch my chance of going. So I made my way up to Zagazíg, and visited poor Mrs. Clarke, who was just as unhappy as myself because her husband was gone with mine as secretary. I do not know that we did each other very much good. At Suez lived the Levick family (he was the Postmaster-General, and did good service to the State for something like forty-seven years, though his widow and children are now left to starve), and they were awfully kind to me. At last I was informed that a ship was going to be sent out, and that I was to have the offer of going in her, though it was intimated to me privately that the Khedive and the Governor, Said Bey, were very much in hopes that I should refuse. It was an Egyptian man-of-war, the Senaar, that was to anchor off the coast till the expedition emerged from the desert, and to bring them back. The Captain received me with all honour. All hands were piped on deck, and a guard and everything provided for me. They were most courteous, said that they would like to take me, and would do everything in their power to make me comfortable, but I saw at once that the accommodation was of too public a nature; in short, that it would be impossible for any woman to embark without her husband on an Egyptian man-of-war. It would lower her in their eyes, and hurt his dignity. Besides turning them out of their only quarters, when my husband came to embark the men of his Staff, I should be excessively in the way; so, thanking them exceedingly for their courteousness, I returned to the town, to the immense relief of all concerned, took some small rooms at the Suez Hotel, and started my literary work. To have crossed the Red Sea in an open Sambúk, with head winds blowing, and then to fight my way across the desert alone upon a camel, would have been dangerous to me and infra dig. for my husband's position; and the Khedive was just in that critical state that I could not have asked him to organize a second Expedition, to send me out with no definite object, save my own pleasure, although I am sure that he would have done it in former prosperous years.

There was a nice little Franciscan Convent of Italian monks near the inn, a mere hut with a room decorated as a chapel, where I used to pass an hour or so every day. Consul West and his wife were most hospitable to me, and they lent me a gigantic white donkey which nobody could break. He was more difficult to ride than any horse I ever mounted, as he ate his head off in the stable and never was ridden. I took long desert rides on him, but he nearly dislocated all my bones. Once I rode to see the Haj Caravan, and I went to see the Da'aseh (the mounted Shaykh riding over the backs of the people), and once came in for a tremendous sand-storm.

General Charles Gordon arrived, and stayed a week here, which I enjoyed very much, for of course I used to see him every day. He was certainly very eccentric, but very charming. I say eccentric, until you got to know and understand him. Also Mr. and Mrs. Ashley-Dodd came there for several days. I was obliged to go to Cairo for four days, including journeys. In those days it was a ten-hours' wearying affair. I arrived at six, and about half an hour afterwards got an invitation to the Khedive's theatricals, balls, and supper. It was a magnificent affair, a perfect garden upstairs, halls of blazing light and flowers, gorgeous dresses, magnificent supper and good wine, first-rate acting, and all the great people in Egypt present. The Khedive was exceedingly gracious to me. I had loads of people to see me, and many invitations. Amongst others, that admirable old man, Baron Ferdinand de Lesseps (in spite of his late failure, not his fault, a real Grand Old Man); and his pretty wife invited me to Ismailíyyeh; but of course I could not go. I just caught a glimpse of all my friends, not forgetting Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Baird, and on the fourth day worried back to Suez in the ten-hour train. During those four days and nights I think I had had only four hours' sleep.

I had one little thing to amuse me. A P. and O. arrived and touched there, and on these days, unless you had friends on board, the passengers seemed to turn you out of house and home, and there were generally a quantity of Indian military ladies. The ladies' toilette-room for these passengers was near my room, and coming out I saw them struggling on very uncomfortably, almost in the dark; so I good-naturedly fetched a candle from my room, and said, "I am afraid you are very uncomfortable in there—will you have a candle?" They stared me up and down for a minute, and then said, "Why, of course. Go and get us a comb and some hot water, will you?" I began to be amused. I was in hopes they would give me a shilling—but they did not. I called my maid and told her in German to go and tell the landlady that they wanted a comb and some hot water. "Oh," they said, "do you all speak German in this hotel?" I said, "I don't know—but that girl is an Austrian." I then went back to my room.

The poor landlady had seen better days, and she used to feel quite crushed when they said, "Send the woman with the boots, will you? and look sharp," or some equivalent speech; and she used to take to her bed after every steamer, which, however, fortunately I think, was only once a fortnight; but as soon as she heard that they had done it to me, she got quite well, and did not mind it a bit; so it did some good. The fun was that in the evening they were so puzzled to see me sitting at the top of the table with all the best people round me, and amongst them two friends, a married couple, whom they had snubbed tremendously on board, and whom I held in high honour, and who were awfully amused at the way the ladies had treated me. Then in the evening I had a tea-fight, to which all Suez came. Subsequently, a year after, I met the very lady who had ordered me to get the comb at a dinner-party. She sat opposite to me. I recognized her, but she did not recognize me. I could not help telling the story to my next-door neighbour, who appreciated the joke immensely, and said, "Do say 'how-do-you-do' to her, and tell her where you last met her." But I would not have spoilt her pleasure for the world.

An Englishman who happened to be at Suez wrote to the Home News, June 1st, 1878: "I had occasion to be at Suez on the return of Haji Abdullah (Dick Burton) from Midian last month, and I noted the sensation his arrival created. His name is as well known amongst the natives in Egypt as if he had passed all his days amongst them. Pashas and other great personages from Europe are continually passing to and fro almost unheeded. How different was the case when it became known that Haji Abdullah was leaving for Cairo! The platform was crowded with Europeans and natives. The rumour had got abroad that 'that wonderful man' was at Suez on his return from the exploring trip to Midian."

Richard was received with great distinction by the Khedive; it was a sort of triumphal entry. The Khedive wished for an exhibition of the minerals, which he opened in person, Richard and Mr. Frederick Smart attending him, and I attended a good deal upon the harem. We had three weeks of that sort of work, and writing reports in French and English, made excursions to the Pyramids, and received a great deal of hospitality from our friends, Mr. Frederick Smart, the Michells, General Purday, the Romaines, the Bairds, the Barings, Abate Bey, Artin Yakoob Pasha, the Tennants, the Vivians, the Lesseps, Barrot Bey, General and Mrs. Stone, the Kremers, and very pleasant were the dinners by moonlight on the Bairds' dahabeeyah, enhanced by the stillness, the view, the distant singing. The Khedive made a contract that Richard should have the concession of the discoveries, or to have five per cent. upon the whole gross profits.

We left on the 10th of May for Alexandria, dined out at Ramleh, and left on the 12th in the "Austria," Captain Rossol. We were eighty-five passengers in a small steamer, so we were not very comfortable; but we were very merry, and we had with us Mr. Frederick Smart, Safvet Pasha, Mohammed Bey, Baronne de Saurmà, née Comtesse de Hatzfeldt, Lord Talbot de Malahide and his daughter Frances, and General Stranz. At Corfú we saw Sir Charles Sebright, and dined all together at St. George's Hotel. We had one man ill with typhus, who was shut away for fear the passengers should know, and I got awfully scolded for going in to nurse him, and as two sharks followed under our bows, they made an unpleasant impression. When we arrived at nine o'clock at night, as we steamed in, our faithful friends, the Governor, Baron Pino, and his wife, rowed up to the side of the vessel, and sent a man to tell Captain and Mrs. Burton to come to their boat directly; and they took us away in less than two minutes, fearing the steamer would be sent in quarantine, and afterwards our belongings followed us. The man died two days after landing in his own home, but no harm resulted to any one. An untoward and melancholy incident also occurred. A poor lady was coming to Austria to see which of the baths would make her a little more blood, as she was anæmic. The exertion of landing from the ship to the hotel caused her to faint; a young doctor was called in, who, mistaking her case, bled her, taking out the little drop she had, and she died that night.

We now went up to Opçina to rest. Richard was detained at his post on account of the then expected war, but was released in a few weeks and allowed to come to London to arrange matters for the further working of Midian. We embarked on the 6th of July in a Cunard steamer which occupies from twenty-one to twenty-six days from Trieste to Liverpool, going first to Venice. On the way we read Dellon's "Inquisition" in Portuguese. We touched at Brindisi; went through the Straits of Messina to Palermo, where we found it very, very hot. We landed, and went to see everything worth seeing, not forgetting the Capuchins, who have large underground crypts, where the dead monks are not buried, but tied up, as if drying. It is very curious, but rather gruesome. I went to visit a relation there, who had been one of the members. The Capuchins gave me a huge blue pottery jar, with a tap, which the priests used to wash their fingers after Mass, and for which I had taken an immense fancy; it bears the Franciscan arms. Richard had gout very badly a great part of the way, but not gout in the exaggerated sense of later years. We landed again at Gibraltar, and had bad weather across the Bay, and all the way home, reaching London on the 27th of July, 1878.

On the 23rd Richard lectured on the Ogham Runes[4] (El Mushajjar) at Sir Samuel Fergusson's, and we returned on the 26th to London. At the end of September I began to see about my "A.E.I." ("Arabia, Egypt, and India ").

All during our present stay in London we were on a visit to my father. We saw a good deal of Society—luncheon-parties and dinner-parties several times a week. We had a great treat in visits to Mr. Frank Dillon's Damascus room (his studio) at 11, Durham Villas, Campden Hill, which we always left with regret. About this time Mr. Alfred Levick, son of the Postmaster-General of Suez, came home dreadfully ill, and went into the University Hospital, and in gratitude for past kindnesses from his father, we were very assiduous in attending on him all the time of his illness. We went up to Lancashire in October to stay with Uncle Gerard, and to Knowsley, where Lady Derby had a large house-party. At Garswood, amongst other visitors, came Sir Julius Benedict. From Garswood we went to some more cousins at Carlton Towers, Yorkshire, where Lord Beaumont gave a large house-warming, and thence to Lord Houghton's at Frystone—all these houses had big parties—and then back to London. We then went to Hatfield to Lady Salisbury's, where we had the pleasure of being again in the same house with Lord Beaconsfield, and the present Lord Rowton, his secretary. A very nice second cousin of mine (Everard Primrose) was staying there, and an amusing little event occurred. He was (to those who did not know him) a cold, serious, rather prim young man, and very punctilious. He suddenly one evening felt en train, went out of the room, and disordering his tie and pulling one arm out of his coat, and a hat on the back of his head, he came into the room with an assumed stagger, and sang "The Marseillaise" furiously, just like a tipsy Frenchman at the barricades. Lord Beaconsfield was delighted. I think it was the only time I ever saw him laugh downright heartily. When it was over, Colonel Primrose went out of the room and came back quite quiet, and looking as if he had done nothing. He often said afterwards to me at Vienna (and various places abroad), when there was a very stiff party at an Embassy or Foreign party, "I wish to gracious I could do the 'Marseillaise' now, but those things are obliged to come by inspiration." A pity such a man should have perished, in that useless fight in the Soudan, of fever. We had the pleasure of a very pleasant dinner at Lady Ashburton's, where we met several delightful people, notably Mr. Augustus Hare, Swinburne, and Miss Hatty Hosmar, the famous sculptress. It was remarkably interesting, and Mr. Hare told us delightful ghost stories. We then went to Ashridge to Lady Marian Alford, who was the best friend we have had in London, except Lord Houghton. Then I went to Brighton (where we saw a good deal of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Sassoon) for the purpose of helping at a bazaar in behalf of humanity to animals. Richard brought out his second Midian book, called "The Land of Midian Revisited" (2 vols., 1879).

On the 19th of November took place the wedding of Colonel Oliphant and my cousin Miss Gerard, which was a treat as a gathering of friends and relations. Richard was at this time under Dr. Garrod for gout.

About December 22nd, Richard had an upset that caused him to be rather poorly for three weeks, which disappeared one night in a quiet dinner with our friend, J. J. Aubertin, who gave us a bottle of very old white port, that seemed to cure him.

THE LITERARY B'S OF 1878.[5]

"One B. his honey found
On Sinai's hallowed ground,
And in Midian he sojourned for a season;
But enemies there were
Who stole the lion's share
Of the fame and of the honour without reason.

"Then a second busy B.—
Mammon's votary is he—
Who the sods and soil of Midian unrolled;
He says the land is fair,
But, in truth, there's nothing there
So magnetic and attractive as its gold."

CHAPTER V.

SPIRITUALISM.

"Prosaic after death, our spirits then
Invent machinery to talk with men;

   *   *   *   *   *

And Shakespeare's spirit visits earth to tell
How he and Washington are very well;
And Lindley Murray, from the body free,
Can't make his verbs and nominatives agree;
Ben Franklin raps an idiotic dream,
And Webster scrawls vile twaddle by the ream;
That splendid knave, Lord Bacon, has turned fool,
And Penn's great soul is busy keeping school.
Well may the living poet heave a sigh
To think his spirit, stooping from the sky
When he is dead, can rap at mortal call,
Bad rhymes and wretched metre on a wall!
Well may the hero shudder in despair,
Whose soul can choose to animate a chair;
And the great statesman, sinking in the tomb,
To rise, and wheel a table round a room!"

One night we had a most amusing spiritualistic meeting at the rooms where the Society usually met, somewhere near the British Museum. It was a night appointed for a very great gathering to hear Richard speak on Spiritualism. The Spiritualists in 1878 were as anxious to claim him as one of their Chiefs, as the Agnostics were in 1891-2, after his death. Richard was the honestest, most truthful man I ever knew; whatever he said he believed, but he believed a great deal more than he said. He was such a many-sided man, that one individual could not understand him; they could only see the one light presented to their eye, and could not imagine the others. He was so anxious to get to the highest of the high, that he studied everything, and amongst others every religion, and when he thought he knew it he took the good out of that religion, and practised it. Now, he thought that if several manifestations which we had witnessed could be pushed further, and especially one of which he was one of seven, that we should have a closer connection with the other world, and for I cannot tell how many years we pursued this phantom, and the more we saw the more puzzled we got; for it never came up either to a Roman Catholic miracle, nor the Sufi's mysticism, which he had practised so long in the East. And in practical England, where there was generally so much money in the case, there was three-quarters of a pound of humbug or jugglery to one ounce of spiritual matter; and Richard at last became convinced that we were on the verge of a new science, which any one who had time and power to grasp this will-o'-the-wisp could turn to good practical account, just as in old days with steam, railways, telegraph, telephones, and electricity in all its branches. At times he and I together got very near something, he being the power, and I the medium (this he called the sixth sense), and then we lost all trace and gave it up. I was not sorry, because I was always in hot water with my Church every time we had a séance. I think, or rather, I should say, he thought, that people should not make a religion of it, and only use it for scientific experiments. He did not believe in the "communion with the dead" through that medium—if for no other reason, that, as a spirit is supposed to know all things, the spirits that came were always just as illiterate as their invokers. They dropped their h's in exactly the same place where he or she did, and used exactly the same expression, and were just or rather more vulgar, especially the joking spirits. We had an excellent example of that, when a doctor, whom I will not name, provided us with a splendid specimen for clairvoyant treatment, and the soul of an Italian doctor presented himself and spoke through the medium, who was evidently unaware that Richard and I could speak anything else but English; and upon being asked certain questions, he spoke a little broken English, with two or three words of very bad Portuguese. We looked at each other, and we talked to him in Italian, Portuguese, and Spanish; but he knew none of the three, which an Italian spirit certainly would have done. His coming to was a splendid bit of acting, and we had to pay our guinea for the medical advice therein. This night, of which I write, Richard made the following speech:—

From The Spiritualist, December 13, 1878.

"The British National Association of Spiritualists.

"The Debate on Captain Burton's Paper.

"The usual fortnightly meeting of the British National Association of Spiritualists was held at 38, Great Russell Street, on Monday evening, the 2nd instant. The chair was taken by Mr. Desmond Fitz-Gerald, M.S.Tel.E., and the rooms were crowded to excess, the paper to be read being by the renowned traveller, Captain R. F. Burton.

"The Chairman—Ladies and gentleman, I have to go through a work of supererogation in introducing to you a gentleman with whose reputation at least you are already well acquainted. I have to introduce you to a gentleman who of old did great service to Spiritualism by defending the Davenport Brothers when they were unjustly attacked. I have to introduce you to a gentleman who, if he believed that Spiritualism or any part of it were a great truth, would, without any doubt, unhesitatingly and fearlessly stand up and support his convictions; I have to introduce you, in fact, to the modern Bayard, our English chevalier sans peur et sans reproche. After paying to him a devoir which sounds like a compliment, but which is not one, I have to say that I stand here rather anxiously awaiting what Captain Burton has to say in relation to Spiritualism. I know he is not quite one of ourselves; I know he is a very hard hitter, and if there are any flaws in our armour, I know he will make it ring again; but I feel certain we shall take every observation he may make in good part, being certain of the honesty and good intent of the speaker. (Applause.) I feel that I cannot sit down without mentioning the name of Mrs. Burton. (Applause.) Captain Burton is in my eyes, and I believe I represent the feeling of all those who know him, or even only know his reputation, one of the finest specimens of manhood I have ever had the honour to stand beside, and I must say of Mrs. Burton that I consider her the finest specimen of womanhood I have ever met. She is a lady of high birth, but she is something more, something higher than that. She is a true woman, who has over and over again stood beside her husband in times of trouble and imminent danger, and it is a great honour to me to be in the position of introducing you to our distinguished visitors this evening. With this little preamble, I will at once call upon Captain Burton to read his paper. (Applause.)

"Spiritualism in Eastern Lands.

Richard's Lecture.

"I felt highly honoured when your energetic secretary, Miss Kislingbury, proposed to me a lecture in these rooms. It is, indeed a privilege; for here we Students may speak out what we honestly believe to be the truth, without fear of those brother-foes, the Theologian and the Scientist—the Black Terror and the Red Terror.

"The subject allotted to me for this evening is 'Spiritualism' (or rather Magnetism, Occultism, and similar matters) 'in Eastern Lands,' and I would obtain your leave to enter into a personal matter which may interest Spiritualists. As regards standpoint, it can matter little to an audience what may be the opinions, spiritual or unspiritual, psychological or unpsychological, of one whose humble duty is to collect and narrate a few facts. But it would hardly be fair to enter upon such a subject without briefly laying down the standpoint from which it is viewed. Of course the point de vue is that of the individual who pretends to be right individually, but who has no pretension to be right either absolutely or relatively to others.

"The standpoint is intelligent enough. Seen from it, life is nothing but the innate condition of man's material and sensuous organization; as the old Materialist said, 'it is the swabhám (nature of things) which thinketh in man.' Consciousness, concerning which battle still rages, is not a 'quality of the sentient principle, or, in other words, the soul;' but a condition of life inexplicable to us at present—a life itself. The supernatural is the natural misunderstood or improperly understood—we cannot say where nature either begins or ends. The superhuman is the superlative of human; we know what our senses and their 'interpenetration' teach us, but no man—positively, absolutely, no man—neither deity nor devil—angel nor spirit—ghost nor goblin—has ever wandered beyond the narrow limits of this world—has ever brought us a single idea or notion which belongs to another and a different world—has ever eluded the simple cognizance of man's five wits. 'I refuse,' says Verax, 'to doff my hat and go on my knees and strip myself of all that is deemed spiritual in my being, in deference to an arbitrary negation, which they who propound it profess their inability to maintain.' Let him keep his hat on, and point out one single spiritual entity which is not subject to our animal senses, or rather to the brain which directs them. With such belief, or absence of belief, I must be contented to remain, as a facetious friend said, 'a Spiritualist without the Spirits.'

"An Agnostic, who can have no knowledge save that which his senses bring to him, is necessarily a materialist. By 'matter,' or molecular structure, or concourse of atoms, or whatever you please to call it, the Common Sense of mankind, our supreme arbiter of physics and metaphysics, understands that which is perceptible to, or cognizable by, the senses. When Berkeley proves logically that spirit only exists, we admire the ingenuity with which he shows that white is black and black is white. Like the Hindú philosopher he inverts the normal mode of definition by calling the invisible prototypes the only reality. Similarly, when Schopenhauer, the Buddhist of modern Europe, assures us that 'in reality there is neither matter nor spirit,' we note that he has adopted the Hindú idea of Mâyâ, or universal illusion; and that he reduces all existence to will and manifestation—will in motion being force, and force producing matter. When it is proved to us that matter does not 'exist,' we recognize a quirk or conceit in the use of the verb 'to exist.' Meanwhile, this chair, this table, these walls, and all with them are of matter, material. And that suffices for everyday use.

"We avoid asserting that spirits do not exist; we fear being called upon to prove a negative; and we students are addicted to 'suspension of judgment'—a mental operation apparently distasteful to the multitude. But we affirm that if they do exist, they are material. As you see upon these walls they allow themselves to be photographed; therefore, they have substance, shape, and size; upstairs a simple instrument shows you their connection with weight. We, therefore, conclude that there are ample grounds for holding these spirits to be, like ourselves, of the world, mundane, of the earth, earthy. And when Spiritualists speak of a 'materialized spirit,' I can think only of a form of speech whose genus is Taurus, species Hibernicus. Similarly Lucretius makes Epicurus argue that the soul is material because all its belongings are of the material world. And Paracelsus, the mighty adept, declared 'the imagination of man is a seed which is material.'

"We, a goodly company, thus place ourselves in direct opposition with immaterial animisers. We regret the term 'psychic force' applied to zoo-electricity, because it asserts a soul-theory. We claim to know the genesis of the soul, the place and almost the date of its birth. The beautiful conception of a refined body-form, denoted by the golden heart of the mummy, was familiar to the ancient Egyptian who, as Mr. Bonwick lately told you, had a soul's soul, as well as a body's soul. And, note, that your modern belief in perispirits and spirit-forms is that of the heathenry on the banks of the Nile who disbelieved in Moses. The Hebrews, Moses included, agreed to banish from their system a Soul-land, a Spirit-land, a Ghost-land, a Kutome, or Dead-man's-land, as Dáhome calls it; in other words, a future world, a state of rewards and punishments. Contented with Ruach (Arabic Ruh), the 'breath,' that is, the sign and symbol of life, these sturdy materialists wanted no Gentile 'Atma' (soul) in addition to 'Mátrá' (matter). In Asia the fair vision may be traced to the Guebres, who taught it to the Jews during the captivity at Babylon: their subsequent teaching, Manicheism, or Dulism, the antagonism of light and darkness, good and bad, god and devil, positive and negative electricity is, still, and long will be, a power in the world of faith. In Europe it arose amongst the fair humanities of pagan Greece and Rome; as Cupid and Psyche prove, it did noble service to the poets; while prosaic Pliny declared that 'to seek for other beings external to him, is not only useless to man, but beyond his power.' St. Paul introduced into Christendom the threefold idea of a natural body, which could become a glorified body, of a soul, and of a spirit; while the moderns remark, 'Our ideas of the soul are not what they were a century ago; a century hence they will not be what they are now.' Personally, I ignore the existence of soul and spirit, feeling no want of a self within a self, an I within an I. If it be a question of words, and my ego, or subject, as opposed to the non-ego, or object; or my individuality, the concourse of conditions which differentiates me from others, be called a soul, then I have a soul, but not a soul proper. For some years, however, I have managed to live without what is popularly called a soul; and it would be hard to find one violently thrust into the recusant body.

"But why do the Spiritualists so violently rage against us? Why these wails concerning the 'awful spread of materialism'? The Church hates the admirable Epicurus above all other heathen sceptic-sages, simply because he would abolish Churchmen. Is this the standpoint of the psychologist? Can there be anything less rational than the phrase which has of late grown popular, 'The dark and debasing doctrines of materialism'? Listen to the latest words of the learned Serjeant Cox: 'The pursuit of psychology ("Psyche," my pretty maid) is certainly as elevating as that of materialism is degrading. The eyes of the materialists are fixed upon the earth. Psychology at least looks up to the heavens (blank sky and air). The regards of materialism are only for the present; psychology has a future'—let me add, a very unpleasant future, if Spiritualists say true. Hear, again, the words of one who was called in his day l'austère intrigant—'Belief in the supernatural is a fact, natural, primitive, universal, and consistent in the life and history of the human race. Unbelief in the supernatural begets materialism; materialism, sensuality; sensuality, social convulsions, amid whose storms men again learn to believe and pray' (Guizot). Granted to thee, O theologian! a personal Demiourgos, an anthropomorphic creator, by what right canst thou limit his power, his omnipotence? Surely the baser the material, the greater the feat which works it out into the noblest of forms. Far more wisely speaks an Eastern poet—

'Is not the highest honour His who from the worst can draw the best?
May not your Maker make the world from matter, at His own behest?
Nay, more; the sordider the stuff, the cunninger the workman's hand—
Cease, then, your own Almighty Power to bind, to bound, to understand!'

   *   *   *   *   *

But man—made, we are told, in the image of God—has returned the good office by modelling his God after his own very human fashion. This is the anthropomorphism, the 'theanthropism' of Mr. Gladstone, concerning which the great master, Aristotle, wrote, 'Men create the gods after their own image, not only with regard to their form, but with regard to their mode of life.' Meanwhile, I hold it to be one of the brightest features of our times—this gospel derisively called 'of Doubt and Denial.' It shows the firm resolve of mankind no longer to be fooled with the fallacies of many faiths; his longing to supplant the fatuous fires of belief by the pure daylight of present reason, and his determination to shed the lively ray of science upon the dark deceits and delusions, the frauds, the follies, and the failures of the past.

"And yet another objection. The scientist, in his turn, is addicted to laying down terms and bounds to the immeasurable field of human knowledge in the ages to come. He assures us, for instance, that we shall never know the connection between the body and the soul—for there are scientists who still have souls. I would ask—By what manner of authority can man lay down such a ne plus ultra? We hold, under certain limitations, the law of development—of progress—to be the normal order of the world. What, then, will be the result when the coming races shall have surpassed the present as far as the present has surpassed the man of the Quaternary and, possibly, the Tertiary ages? Meanwhile the antidevelopists, theological and scientific, who cling to the obsolete and immoral doctrine of degradation, are bound to find, sunk deep below earth's surface, vestiges and remains of ancient civilization in an ever-ascending scale; they must show us, in fact, water running up to its source. They are bound to produce, amongst the old stone folk, a cave-man who, by his noble and symmetrical skull, his delicate jaw, his short forearm, his straight shin, and, possibly, his 'hyacinthine locks,' shall receive the fading honours of Father Adam and Mother Eve. Lord Beaconsfield is 'all on the side of the Angels.' I cannot but hold to the apes. And if he be a fallen angel, I, at least, am a Simiad that has done something to develop itself.

"Before entering upon magnetism and occultism in Eastern lands, will you kindly allow me a few words of personal explanation? In 1876 I addressed to the Times the following note upon extra-sensuous perception in the mesmeric state, suggesting the universality of the so-called 'spirit' phenomena:—

"'Sir,—Seeing my name quoted in your columns (October 30, 1876) as one of those who have "certified to the genuineness of spirit phenomena," I venture to request the briefest of hearings. The experience of twenty years has convinced me that (1) perception is possible without the ordinary channels of the senses; and (2) that I have been in presence of a force or a power, call it what you will, evidently and palpably material if, at least, man be made of matter; but I know nothing of what is absurdly called Spiritualism, and I must be contented to be at best a Spiritualist without the Spirits.

"'Some such force or power the traveller is compelled to postulate, even in the absence of proof. He finds traces of it among all peoples, savage as well as civilized; and it is evidently not a "traditional supernaturalism." This all but absolute universality claims for it the right to rank in the "suprahuman category" of the late Lord Amberley, who did not hold, as I do, the superhuman and the supermundane to be the human and the mundane imperfectly understood. Even mere barbarians, as "the Earl" tells us in his last pleasant book, have learnt to juggle with it; and I fear that many a professional "medium" has, at times, when the legitimate agent failed him, learnt to supplement it by sleight-of-hand, pure and simple. In 1835 the late Mr. Lane startled the public with his account of the Cairo magician and the drop of ink in the boy's hand; and "Eothen" vainly attempted to explain the phenomenon as a "tentative miracle." Had the public read the "Qanoon-i-Islam" by Dr. Herklots, instead of passing over it as a cookery-book, they would have found the very same process everywhere utilized in India. Colonel Churchill's 'Mount Lebanon' (1853) again describes a notable feat performed by a Druze medium, which distinctly comes under the head of "Materialized Spiritualism," to use the "Irish bull" now in vogue,—I am, sir,' etc., etc.

"That 'perception is possible without the ordinary channels of sensation' is a hard saying. The Press took it up; and, I am told, the small boys at Norwood amused themselves by shouting to one another, 'Take care where yer going! yer havn't got Captain Burton's six senses!' But I meant simply to state my conviction that the senses—which, little known to us as the 'Laws of Nature,' after the study of twenty-four centuries, still conceal so many secrets—sometimes are, and often may be made, independent of their organs. Who amongst you cannot quote cases of men being strangely affected by the presence of some animal? You have all heard of Henri III. and of the Duke of Schomberg, who could not sit in a room where there was a cat. A notable instance of this occurred in my own family—a brave soldier who had fought through many a campaign, and yet who turned pale and faint in the feline presence. He neither saw, smelt, heard, felt, nor tasted the cat; the fact of its being there was enough.

"Again, why should not the brain, or the nervous system, or whatever controls the sensuous processes of man, be able, when artificially excited, stimulated, exalted—as by mesmerism or somnambulism—to see, hear, and feel for itself; see, without eyes; hear, without ears; feel, without fingers? In other words—Why should it not be capable of clairvoyance and clairaudience? I assert that it does, and many in this room will support my assertion. A learned physician and devout Catholic—Dr. F. Lefebre, Professor of Pathology at highly orthodox Louvain—goes so far as to affirm 'it is possible that the somnambulists' power of foresight may be raised to a degree far above the ordinary level, and that they can sometimes penetrate into the future so far as to excite our utmost astonishment.' In fact, this honest and courageous scientist confesses his belief in 'second sight.' Thus the heterodoxies of yesterday become the orthodoxies of to-day. That sturdy incarnation of common sense, Dr. Johnson, the Philistine Colossus of English literature, would certainly, had Spiritualism been developed in his day, have become a thorough-paced Spiritualist. The theory of extra-sensuous perception of things sensuous is to be proved or disproved, not by hard words, not by mere logic, but by experiment and facts. Meanwhile I hold myself justified in believing it to be true, and others equally justified in believing it to be false. As the wise man said, 'Different people have different opinions.' And in our present transitional empirical state of knowledge unanimity appears hopeless. Half the world of Christendom believes that 'miracles' still take place; the other half denies their taking place: and who shall decide between them?

"When my note appeared in the Times, that picturesque paper, the Daily Telegraph—whose peculiar gifts are not what it claims, 'logic' and 'common sense'—took up arms. With a war-whoop à la jingo, and a flourish of the tomahawk, which on this occasion assumed the guise of that weapon so deadly in the hands of a certain Hebrew Hercules, he proceeded to demolish me (November 14, 1876). 'How,' he asks, 'can a man perceive a cat in the room without the sensation of sight?' I am not bound to answer his 'how;' I affirm that man can do it, that he has done it, and that he still does it. Again, 'How can he perceive a clap of thunder without the sense of hearing?' Let me ask, in return, how many there are—some perhaps in this room—whose nervous systems infallibly tell them, without the intervention of the 'Five Deluders,' that 'thunder is in the air'? After fixing upon me the term 'Suprahuman,' which I quoted from the late Lord Amberley's last book, he lectures me upon Eastern jugglery, as if I had never been out of Fleet Street. He asks, with that mock-humility so well known of old, in what the medium's 'legitimate agent' may consist? I, on my side, would inquire what he understands by sanative mesmerism or somnambulism—is it lawful or unlawful? He would shed a Saurian tear over my lapse from grace: 'It is melancholy to find a man of strong common sense indulging in such nonsense as this.' Finally, because I hold to 'nervous perception,' which may be called a sixth sense, after the fashion of one proposed by John Stuart Mill, he threatens me with hysteria, which again is not sound physiology, and (horrible to say!) with 'confirmed insanity.'

"The 'Cairo magician,' whose ink-mirror in the boy's hand startled the public through Lane's 'Modern Egyptians '(chap. xii. vol. ii. p. 99, edit. 1846), is probably familiar to all in this room. Not so the account of the same phenomenon, given by Dr. Rossi (Gazette Médicale de Paris, February, 1860). This physician, established at Cairo, has supplied ample details concerning the methods employed by the Egyptian sorcerers to produce sleep accompanied by insensibility.

"'In this land of tradition,' writes Dr. Rossi, 'in this country where what was done forty centuries ago is still done at the present day, there exists a class of persons who gain their living by the profession of Mandieb.' [The latter is a mistake for Darb el Mandal,[1] as the Arabs call the process.]

"'The effects produced by them, hitherto spoken of with contempt as charlatanism, are the same as those lately published by Dr. John Braid (1843). Still further, as you had foreseen by scientific induction, hypnotism in their hands is merely the first link of the chain which ends by the phenomena of "magnetic somnambulism," discovered by the Marquis de Puységur in 1784. They proceed in the following manner. They generally make use of a perfectly white platter of earthenware. This is the luminous object of Braidism. In the centre of this plate they draw, with pen and ink, two triangles crossing each other,[2] and fill up the space occupied by this geometrical figure with cabalistic words, the probable object being to concentrate the sight upon a limited point. Finally, to increase the brightness of its surface, they pour a little oil upon it.

"'Generally speaking, they choose a young subject[3] for their experiments, and make him fix his eyes on the centre of the double triangle. Four or five minutes after[4] the following effects are produced. The patient begins to see a black spot in the middle of the plate; some minutes later, this black spot grows larger, changes its shape, and transforms itself into different apparitions, which float (or rather pass in procession) before the subject. Having reached this point of hallucination, the patient often acquires a somnambulistic lucidity as extraordinary as that of those who are magnetized.

"'There are, however, some of these Shaykhs who, more simple in their preparations, without having recourse to geometrical figures or cabalistic words, cause the simple hypnotism and somnambulism of Dr. Braid, by making the subject fix his eyes upon one of those glass balls which contain oil, and serve for lamps.'

"Before these lines had been written, a Member of the Institute, Count Léon de Laborde, bought from an 'Arab magician' at Cairo, of the confraternity of Lane's Shaykh Abd-el-Kadir, the secret of apparitions in the hollow of the hand. Children taken at hazard see with as much ease as through a lucarne (skylight) men moving, appearing and disappearing (Revue des Deux Mondes, August, 1840).

"Had the learned public been a little better read, they would have known what Dr. Herklots wrote some three years before Lane's account caused so much excitement, 'fluttering the doves' that began at once to shriek 'Necromancy.'[5] In the 'Qanoon-i-Islam' (chap. xxxiii. pp. 376-378. London: Parbury and Allen, 1837), translated by Dr. G. A. Herklots, we find Section I. devoted to the 'viewing of Unjun (anjan), or the magic mirror.'[6] The author says, 'For the purpose of ascertaining where stolen goods are concealed, or the condition of the sick whenever possessed by the Devil, or where treasure has been buried, they apply Unjun to the palm of a child or an adult, and desire him to stare well at it.' This art is practised by Jogis,[7] Sányasis, and other Hindú devotees, who use it to ascertain the exact position of buried treasure. The 'Dafínah,' in India, emits fire-sparks at night, and rolls about like a ball of flame. Our author continues: 'The person to the palm of whose hand Unjun is applied, occasionally mutters a great deal of ridiculous nonsense. For example, that "at such and such a place there is a lota degchah, or kurrahee, full of rupees, etc., buried."'[8]

"Unjun, we are told, is of five kinds, viz.:—

"1. Urth (arth) Unjun, used to discover stolen goods. This is prepared by triturating various roots, for instance, that of the Abrus precatorius, or carat tree, in water. It is thus applied to the inside of a piece of earthen pot which must be new and pure, and placed inverted over a lamp lighted with (fresh) castor oil. The lamp-black is collected, mixed with oil, and applied to the hand of a footing child, who, we are told, 'particularly details everything regarding what is wanted.'

"2. Bhoot (bhut) Unjun is similar, but used chiefly for ascertaining what regards devils, evil spirits, and spirits, and the condition of the sick.

"3. D'hunna (dhanná) Unjun is composed of a lot of white cloth dipped in the blood of a cat, an owl, or a 'king-crow;' the eyes, liver, and gall-bladder are rolled up in it, and it is used as a wick in a lamp of castor oil. The lamp procured is also mixed with oil and applied to the hand; hidden treasure is thereby discovered.

"4. Alop Unjun, which, if applied to a person's eyes or forehead, makes him, wherever he be, invisible to others, while they remain visible to him.

"5. Saurwa Unjun is prepared with the suds of the Dolichos lablab. After staring for two or three ghurees (each of twenty-four minutes) the subject will say something to this effect: 'First I saw the Farrásh (sweeper) coming; he swept the ground and departed. Then came the Bihishti (water-carrier), who sprinkled water on the flower and went away. The Farrásh reappeared and spread the carpet. Next came a whole army of fierce demons, fairies, etc., to whom succeeded their commander, who was seated on a throne.' This was, in fact, the king of the Jinns, into whose presence the culprit was borne and forced to make confession.

"The Hindi Moslem, from whose manuscript Dr. Herklots' translation was made, concludes the Unjun section as follows: 'I myself place no faith in such unjuns and hazeeruts (spirit-summonings). Although born in this very country (Hindostan), bred and educated among this race (Moslems); yet, through the blessing of God, and the friendship of the great, by the study of good books, and by the hearing of sane counsel, the credibility of the existence of such things has been entirely effaced from my breast.'

"This conclusion is evidently ad captandum. It must be remembered that the author wrote before 1832, when even European travellers who feared to be called 'credulous' were compelled to make an apology for recounting any phenomenon that savoured of the so-called 'preternatural.' Spiritualistic societies have, at least, taught them a little more boldness in dealing with facts, and courage in affronting the vulgus.

"I need hardly enlarge upon the antiquity and the almost universal use of the Magic Mirror: Cornelius Agrippa's crystal and Dr. Dee's bit of cannel coal are doubtless well known to you. But I would draw your attention to the curious fact that everywhere, and in all ages, the vision follows nearly the same ceremonial—the floor sweeping, the procession, the throne, the ruler, and the person summoned. This is the phenomenon which deserves investigation. Is it traditional—that is, taught by one 'magician' to another? Or is it spontaneous—the mesmerizer's thought reflected by the medium?

"The following description of treasure-raising by magic, given in the words of a Tunisian notary, shows the popular idea of the process in Western lands, as opposed to that mentioned by Herklots:—

"'On the evening appointed, the Moroccan and three others, besides myself, left the city as the gates were closed, and reached the appointed place when only two hours were wanting to midnight.

"'After a short rest our guide took us to a fragment of ruin on the southern slope of a hill, where he desired us to remain perfectly silent, and instructed us not to be intimidated by anything we might see or hear. He could not tell precisely what would happen; but "whatever may transpire," he said, "give no utterance to your feelings, whether of fear or of joy; for if you do, our labour will not only be in vain, but the treasure itself will have to continue in the bowels of the earth for another century."

"'He then lit a small lamp, and began his incantations. He stood in the centre, and we at the four cardinal points of the compass, only about four or five arms' length from him. Then he blew into a small flame the coals he had brought in an earthen cruse, and threw a variety of incense into it. No sooner did the smoke commence to ascend than he made a last imploring sign to us neither to move nor to utter a sound, and threw himself flat on the ground.

"'In a few seconds we felt the ground beneath us heave like the waves of the sea, so that we had the greatest difficulty to stand erect; tremendous noises, like the sound of thunder, at the same time assailed our ears. By the dim moon we could discern hosts of cavalry, in the plain below, galloping up to us, with their guns and lances aimed at us. They rushed upon us in the most furious and threatening attitudes; but no sound—not even that of hoofs—could we hear, and horses and riders seemed to vanish when only within a few yards of us. But this strange army thickened; the fierceness of their countenances and their threatening position increased, while at the same time we distinctly heard the clangour of chains and other extraordinary noises underground. Although trembling from fright, we stuck to our posts, and obeyed to the very letter the Moroccan's instructions. But now huge masses of rock above us began to stagger; and, as if hurled by some supernatural and invisible force, commenced rolling down with the utmost velocity in the direction of the spot where we stood, threatening us with instantaneous destruction. The fear of death overcame our love for treasure. We fled with the speed of lightning, and called for mercy at the top of our voice, never stopping nor looking back till we found ourselves in safety.

"'The Moroccan joined us soon afterwards, giving utterance to the greatest rage and fury as soon as he could make himself audible; and, had we not been four to one, he would, I believe, have committed murder that night. "The work," he said, "was on the eve of being completed, and the stones opened the gap for us to possess ourselves of vast treasures. Your cowardice has frustrated all. You might have been wealthy by this time; but beggars you were when you came here, and, through your own folly, beggars you return."'

"Dr. N. Davis, who relates what was told to him (pp. 399, 400, 'Carthage.' London: Bentley, 1861), notices other events of this kind. As an eye-witness he describes (p. 425) the charming of a dangerous serpent by one Haji Ibrahim, and owns that the fat little Darwaysh 'had a certain influence over venomous reptiles—mesmeric, or of some other kind.' Elsewhere (p. 404) he tells of a dancing drinking-cup, that skipped merrily into the middle of the room; the same kind of manifestation as that produced by Colonel Churchill's Druze mediums. Tales of this nature may be found scattered through the pages of a host of travellers: they offer, in fact, no embarras de richesses.

"The following is the modern European form of the magic mirror. I find in a well-known Masonic journal (the Rosicrucian, No. 4, April 1, 1877) an article—'Evenings with the Indwellers of the World of Spirits'—by my friend, Mr. Frederick Hockley:—

"'The pendant of a crystal chandelier destroyed in the palace of the Tuileries during the Revolution under Charles the Tenth (29th July, 1830), had this evening arrived, and been laid upon the table, and had not been charged. My seeress, Miss Emma Leigh, taking it up, said—

"'"It is thick; there is a vision in it.

"'"There's a pair of compasses and a square. Now the compasses are opening; now there is a point on each end of the square, which has turned sideways. There's a book come underneath—a thick book, bound in rough calf, with thick bands up the back; now there's a man's face, very thin, dark, straight hair, quite black, come inside the compasses, and a thin, very thin hand placed upon the book.

"'"Now the face has come from the inside of the compasses to a small space outside. The hand has opened the book; the book is very beautiful inside, it looks like a picture. There are two figures with wings on each side of a little oval; in the middle of the oval there appear words or figures beautifully coloured."

"'This remained some time, and as the hour for using the C. A. mirror was at hand, I tried to dismiss the vision, but it remained. I then placed the crystal in my cabinet.

"'At eight p.m. I invoked, as usual, the C. A. in his mirror, and the action lasted till a few minutes to ten, when the C. A. left.

"'Ten p.m.—Immediately Emma took up Mr. Dresser's crystal she observed: "It is still clouded. The book is there open, and the man's face and shoulders. He has held his hand up, and the book has opened just in the same place. It looks very richly illuminated in gold and colours; there is an arch at the top, and one angel is standing upon a crushed ball. Now there are clouds of different colours coming up under the other figure at the bottom—white, like smoke, then purple, blue, pink, and golden-coloured, which covers all up to their wings.

"'"In the oval the reading is not in English or like letters; it is large enough to be read. Two or three of the letters look like ducks with their heads under water."

"'Emma then copied the contents of the oval, and when finished she said: "Now there's a little slip of paper come underneath the title-page with words on it."'

"[For the rest of the article the reader must consult the Masonic journal.]

"In Dr. Herklots we find the word 'Jogi' properly applied to a Hindú devotee. Some of our modern Spiritualistic writers ('Isis Unveiled') speak of a 'Hindú Fakir,' which sounds much like a 'Protestant Franciscan,' or 'Trappist.' These Jogis are familiar, by sight at least, to every Anglo-Indian, who includes them all under the comprehensive term, 'holy beggars.' They maintain the possibility of acquiring, even during life, entire command of our elementary matter, and all worldly substances. The means are certain ascetic practices, such as (1) long-continued suppressing of breath, and inhaling and exhaling in particular ways; some of them are said to retain respiration for an incredible time; (2) sitting in different attitudes, of which the Ayin Akbari (ii. 445) records eighty-four different asans, the eyes being generally fixed so as to produce hypnotism, or Braidism, upon the nose-tip. These austerities affect the yoga (union) between the particle of vital spirit residing in the body and that which, being the source and essence of creation, pervades all nature—in fact, the Anima mundi, or soul of the world. Thus the Jogi, being liberated from his too coarse flesh, can make himself lighter than the lightest substances, and heavier than the heaviest. He can become as big or as small as he pleases. He can practise attrobacy, or levitation, and traverse all space. He can render himself invisible, and animate a dead body, by transferring his 'spirit'[9] into it. He can attain all objects, and become equally familiar with the Past, the Present, and the Future. Finally, he can be united with the sources of life, the archæal soul of the world, the 'Universal Soul' of Plato, and the Astral Light of the cabbalists. He now consequently escapes the pains and penalties of metempsychosis.

"The Jogis are mostly strong in the Zoo-electric force, which Mr. Crooke's instrument has proved to be material as any other form of electricity. Its application evidently dates from the earliest ages, and is by no means confined to the nobly born and civilized races of man. My cousin, Edward Burton, when serving, about 1840, in the now abolished Royal African Corps at St. Mary's, Bathurst, Gambia River, found a self-taught negro magnetizer. 'Tom Tom Jack' wisely refused to meddle with 'whites' (Europeans), but boasted that he could hypnotize any black man. My cousin offered five dollars, a large inducement, to his orderly, 'Charley Ross,' if he could resist the force; but the magnetizer was successful. I may also state that in my own case the practice began naturally, long before I had the benefit of books and teachers.

"Amongst those who have recorded 'Spiritualism' in Eastern lands, we must include Colonel Churchill.[10] He resided long upon the Lebanon, and he gained much mediumistic experience, especially from one of his friends, Bashír Talhúk. The following lines deserve quotation concerning the Shaykh, who, we are told, 'has devoted his time, singular as it may appear, to the cultivation of magic; and the stories he relates of his interviews with immaterial beings are novel and startling.'

"'At times he will place a jug between the hands of two persons sitting opposite to each other; when, after the recital of certain passages taken indiscriminately from the Korán and the Psalms of David,[11] it will move spontaneously round. A stick, at his bidding, will proceed unaided from one end of the room to the other. A New Testament suspended by a piece of string to a key will, in the same way, turn violently round of itself.[12] On two earthenware jars being placed in opposite corners of a room, one being empty, the other filled with water, the empty jar will, on the recital of certain passages, move across the room; the jar full of water will rise of itself on the approach of its companion and empty its contents into it, the latter returning to its place in the same manner that it came. An egg boiling in the saucepan will be seen to spring suddenly out of the water, and be carried to a considerable distance.[13] A double-locked door will unlock itself. There cannot be a doubt that an unseen influence of some kind is called into operation, but of what nature those may conjecture who like to speculate upon such matters.[14]

"'But it is in the more serious cases of disease or lunacy that the supernaturally derived powers are called into play. Previous to undertaking a cure, he shuts himself up in a darkened room, and devotes his time to prayer and fasting. Fifteen and sometimes thirty days are passed in this state of abstinence and self-denial. At last one of the genii (Jinn), described by him to be much of the same appearance as human beings, will suddenly appear before him and demand his bidding. He then states his position, and requires assistance in the case he is about to undertake. The genii replies at once that his request is granted, and encourages him to proceed.

"'The wife of Shaykh Ahmed Talhúk had been for more than two years afflicted with a swelling, which had been mistaken for pregnancy. Shaykh Bushír, after the usual preparatory discipline, passed his hand over her person, and in five minutes she arose perfectly cured. Shaykh Yúsuf Talhúk was brought before him a confirmed lunatic; in two days he returned to his home perfectly restored in health and reason.' [You see how shrewd was the apostle of Allah when he disclaimed the gift of miracle-mongering.]

"'That the Shaykh stoutly maintained his intercourse with spiritual agents to be real and effective is unquestionable; and, indeed, the belief in magic, and in the interposition of an order of unseen creatures in worldly affairs, at the bidding of those who chose to devote themselves earnestly to such intercourse, is universal throughout the entire population of every religion and sect.... Instances could be multiplied in which the most extraordinary and unaccountable results have been brought about, by the introduction of individuals who made this communion the subject of their study and contemplation. But as the ears of Europeans would only be shocked by assertions and statements which they would not fail of holding to be utterly fabulous and ridiculous, the subject is merely alluded to in these pages to indicate the existence of a very prominent and prevalent belief in the Lebanon.' [Again I place in italics those words which supply a Spiritualistic Society with such an admirable raison d'être.]

"The notes on Spiritualism which you have this evening favoured with your hearing are, to use a Persian phrase, only a handful which proves what the heap is. My friend Dr. Charnock especially recommends 'Le Spiritualisme Oriental,' by another friend, A. de Kremer (Journal Asiatique, 6 série, tom. 13, p. 105). Also he refers to index tom. 20, in connection with 'Le Sougisme' (Reading-room, British Museum, 2098D). In my 'History of Sindh' (London: Allen, 1851) I have given a chapter (No. viii.) and its notes to the same subject, Sufi-ism. And, lastly, in 'Vikram and the Vampire' (London: Longmans, 1870), I have related, under a facetious form of narrative, many of the so-called supernaturalisms and preternaturalisms familiar to the Hindús. These studies will show the terrible 'training,' the ascetic tortures, whereby men either lose their senses, or attain the highest powers of magic (proper), that is, of commanding nature by mastering the force, whatever it be, here called Zoo-electric, which conquers and controls every modification of matter.

"Nothing remains but to thank you for the patience with which you have listened to a long ramble, and to hope that the debate will be more interesting than the discourse. According to the Arabs, 'The lesson is one; the talk (that follows the lesson) is one thousand.'"

After Richard's speech was over, and the President had duly thanked him, he asked if any lady or gentleman would like to make a remark. I had sat below my husband against the platform, and had been taking notes of his speech all the time. I then got up and said, very modestly and shyly, that if being the wife of the lecturer was no obstacle, I should also like to be allowed to make a remark. Then I made my little speech.

"The Chairman—I have now to call upon Mrs. Burton.

"Mrs. Burton—It appears to me that Spiritualism, as practised in England, is quite a different matter to that practised in the East, as spoken of by Captain Burton. Easterns are organized for such manifestations, especially the Arabs. It causes them no surprise; they take it as a natural thing, as a matter of course; in short, it is no religion to them. Easterns of this organization exhale the force; it seems to be an atmosphere surrounding the individual, and I have frequently in common conversation had so strong a perception of it, as to withdraw to a distance on any pretext, allowing a current of air to pass from door or window between them and myself. There is no doubt that some strange force or power is at work, trying to thrust itself up in the world, and is well worthy of attention. When I say 'new,' I mean in our hemisphere. I believe it to be as old as time in Eastern countries. I think we are receiving it wrongly. When handled by science, and when it shall become stronger and clearer, it will rank very high. Hailed in our matter-of-fact England as a new religion by people who are not organized for it, by people who are wildly, earnestly, seeking for the truth, when they have it at home—some on their domestic hearth, and others next-door waiting for them—it can only act as a decoy to a crowd of sensation-seekers who yearn to see a ghost as they would go to a pantomime, and this can only weaken and degrade it, and distract attention from its possibly true object, science. Used vulgarly, as we have all sometimes seen it used, after misleading and crazing a small portion of sensitive persons, it must fall to the ground. I think Captain Burton has selected an admirable title for it—I allude to Zoo-electricity—until a better name discloses itself, but I regret to say that I cannot to-night join in the general applause which greets his lecture. It appears to me to suit all parties. He gives the Spiritualists a raison d'être, whilst he knows that he does not believe in spirits from the other world being subject to our uses, calls, and caprices. On the other hand, he has not exactly offended the one Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church to which it is my glory to belong. The greatest anti-Spiritualist cannot accuse him of violating his own common sense, because he has expressed no belief, but simply recounted what is practised in the East. I am sure that I am the only person in this room, perhaps in London, possibly in the world, to whom the construction that the public may put upon the lecture of to-night is a thing of vital importance. I am, therefore, unwilling to leave Captain Burton's real sentiments on the subject quite so much to your imagination as I think he has done. He is certainly not a Spiritualist. Like other scientific men and materialists, he believes in a natural force which has no name, which he calls Zoo-electricity, but he does not mean the ghosts that real believers are said to see. I feel he has not done justice to himself, and this is why I have ventured to add this postscript to his address, in the fewest and plainest words that I can find. I need not tell you that he little thought to-night to find his wife amongst his opponents. I now thank you all exceedingly for having listened to me.

"The Chairman—When Captain Burton sat down, he made an observation to me to the effect that now he was going to 'catch it.' I told him he would have to wait some time, but I think he has 'caught it' already. (Laughter.) Now I think it is high time that somebody should say a word for Spiritualism as we understand it. I believe there is no very vital point of difference between us after all. We understand each other thoroughly. If the Spiritualist would only say—and it is a question of terms—that the spirits are formed of some kind of invisible matter which is not composed of any of the elements known to the chemists, and which has various, very wonderful properties and qualities, I think a great many of the difficulties and differences between ourselves and Captain Burton and other honest materialists might be got over."