letter, so I must positively have been seen through-a thing that never happened to me before, in all my life.

I now came to something momentous-something that did not affect myself alone, but had its bearings on the whole frame of politica Society; and I resolved to approach it circuitously.

"Do you happen to know," I asked, "what position I occupy in a public point of view ?”

Rap.

I was going still further to beat about the bush, after the fashion of Serjeant Grilkins, Mr. Barkson, Mr. Grabintime, Mr. Grinns, and other eminent counsel; but my impatience burst all bounds, and I projected myself headlong into the focus of my inquiry.

"Shall I keep my seat ?" I demanded.

Rap, was the reply, clear, loud, and convincing. I felt myself as safe as I was at that instant in my chair.

Being assured of this fact, I felt it was perfectly ridiculous to trouble the Spirit about my being Prime Minister. That was only a question of

time and opportunity, so I signified that I was perfectly satisfied.

But it suddenly struck me that, after all, these answers might have been fortuitous, applicable-though it was barely possible-to some one else; so, before I dismissed my grandmother to the " sulphurous and tormenting flames" from which I had reclaimed her, I submitted her spiritual acumen to the final test.

"Now tell me my name," said I.

"In what manner," interposed Professor Honey-Fogle, "would you like to fix it? By the Sperrit's direct manifestation, or by the cracking of the table through its influentiality? We cave in to nothing here; you've only to choose."

This proposition introduced a new element into the very remarkable character of the proceedings, and of course I gladly seized upon the Professor's offer to afford me evidence of a new phenomenon.

"The table by all means," was my eager observation.

Immediately a rumbling noise was heard, as if Mount Etna-at the Surrey Gardens-were about to belch forth torrents of fresh green laver, as it did when Hercules and Pompey were consumed to ashes; a noise

which-to change the comparison-bore also a strong resemblanceabsurd under the circumstances-to the rapid action of the heel against the floor, and then there was a pause,-during which the Professor took a seat at the table opposite the Medium.

"In order that there may be no hallucination on your part or delusion on mine," said Mrs. General Bunkum, "I will go through the letters of the alphabet, and will answer when I come to the letters which compose

your name.

She then began. A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J

the table gave

another

a crack. She resumed and went on till she came to O crack. At L- a third. This last was repeated; and then she went through the alphabet till she arrived at the penultimate letter, when the table gave a louder crack than before. There were the five letters J—O—L▬L▬Y,-forming my Christian name! I was lost in stupefaction, which increased as my patronymic was being spelt out in successive cracks, G-R—E—E—N, when I became literally wild with excitement.

"You approbate, I calkilate," said Professor Honey-Fogle, rising from his seat.

"I understand you," I returned, faintly,—for my emotion was excessive; "I do."

"Well, I swan," continued the Professor, "I've seen a many remarkable manifestations. But nothing ever come nigh this,-not by a jugfull. If I war you I should be as happy as a clam at high water!" "I am so," I murmured.

"Ah!" observed Mrs. General Bunkum, with a sigh, "it is not always that such very satisfactory results ensue."

"I should think not," abruptly remarked Lord William Mortimer. "And why not, my Lo I mean William ?"

"Never mind, old fellow," he replied, "so long as you're satisfied." "And are you not equally so?"

"Not exactly," was his concise reply.

"What do you want more?" I inquired. "I should think the most incredulous must surrender their opinions before the evidence which we possess. Be kind enough to read out the note I gave you at the commencement of the séance. I think you will find that the whole of my secret correspondence has been revealed exactly as I wrote it."

"I believe you, my boy," said Lord William; "but there's no necessity. That's all right-gospel-every word of it-just as it's set down. But," he continued, turning to Mrs. General Bunkum, "I should like to know if I could have a few words myself with any private Spirit?"

"Oh, certainly!" returned the lady. "I must repeat, though, that it is not in my power, nor in that of any Medium to control the issue. The Spirits themselves are unequal to that task."

66

Very good," said the noble lord. "I shan't damage them much by what I'm going to say. Have you caught one?"

Mrs. General Bunkum frowned severely, and bent her head down, looking closely at the table; the Professor seemed to wince, as if his fine nature were as it were-" ryled" by this last inquiry; and, for my own part, I felt hurt by Lord William's conduct.

The usual question having been put as to the presence of a Spirit, and

an affirmative rap replying, my private secretary was about to begin his questions, when the Professor asked him if he wouldn't like to do as I had done, adding, with a perspicuity that did honour to his heart, that he couldn't follow a better example; but, to my inexpressible surpriseindeed, I may add-to my infinite disgust, Lord William returned a decided negative. He then said, addressing the Spirit:

"Do you know what I am?"

Rap.

"Tell me."

"A nobleman."

"Well!" I exclaimed, "I hope you'll be convinced now, Lord William !"

"Is the gentleman indeed a Lord?" timorously asked the Medium. "If so, it is really remarkable, for it is very often so ordered that consecutive querists meet with very opposite results."

"So far, so good," said my private Sec. "Lord what, besides 'William?' You've heard that much."

He took up the alphabet and pointed the pencil, making a pause now and then, as if he were spelling his own name. The Spirit gave nine raps in succession.

"You're an American spirit, and no mistake. the British Aristocracy. You've hit it now!"

"Indeed!" exclaimed I, eagerly; "show me."

You know all about

Lord William tossed me the slip of paper on which he had jotted down the letters which the Spirit had rapped at. Instead of the gentle name of "Mortimer," I was horror-stricken to see the plebeian appellation of "Tomkinson."

"There's something very mysterious in this," I remarked; "there must be some unfortunate resemblance between you and a person so called."

Lord William smiled. "I've a book to make. Who's to win the Derby?" he asked.

The spelling was resumed. The word "Gorrox" came up."

"I don't remember that horse in the betting," I observed; "but after what has happened to me, I'll back him against the field."

66

"Do, Green," said my noble friend; you shall have the odds in as many ponies as you like."

It struck me that Lord William was pushing scepticism almost as far as it could well go, and I felt a strong desire to punish him.

"How much do I owe my tailor-in pounds?" pursued Lord William, taking up the list of numerals.

"Five," was the answer.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed his lordship.

Two things staggered me in this reply.

"So I do."

First, the extreme lowness of the figure; and next, Lord William's admission of its correctness.

"I believe," he said, addressing the Medium, "that I am at liberty to ask questions mentally?"

"It is not the usual course," replied Mrs. General Bunkum, coldly, "but it is allowed."

Lord William moved his lips to show that he was framing questions, nodding his head between each. The rapping went on at intervals, and

he put down the results. His good humour appeared to increase with each answer; but after about ten minutes he said he had had enough, and asked me if I should like to hear them. I gave a ready assent, and he read as follows:

"Who's to have

"Q"My age?' A. 'Two hundred and seventy-four.' Q. Who is the present commander-in-chief?' A. Mr. Cobden.' Q. Where's the best milk-punch to be had?' A. At Exeter Hall.' Q. the Opera next season?' A. Lord Shaftesbury.' say was to win the Derby?' A. Jones.''

Q.

Who did you

"It must be admitted," I observed, "that these answers are rather wide of the mark; but the fact is, Lord William-the fact is-I mean not the slightest offence to you in saying so-the fact is, we don't know -we have not the evidence of our ears to convince us that the questions you have written there were actually put; or, indeed, that these replies were returned."

"If anybody else had insinuated a doubt of my veracity," exclaimed Lord William, turning very red in the face, "he would have heard of another sort of rapping, in the shape of a punch on the head; but you, Green, are such a d-d f

I knew what he was going to say, but I prevented the words "fine fellow" from issuing from his lips, by exclaiming :

"Enough, William-not a word of compliment: we appreciate each other rightly. I am far from insinuating anything of the sort, though I must say, and I think you will allow, that all the features of this remarkable séance have been of a most extraordinary character."

66

They have, indeed," was his satisfactory reply.

"I think, then," I observed, " as I have obtained all the information I came in search of-and as the Toffy question comes on early this evening-we will take our leave of this lady and gentleman. If you will just step down stairs I will follow you in a moment."

Lord William made a bow to Mrs. General Bunkum, but took no notice of Professor Honey-Fogle, and left the apartment.

I had a twofold object in remaining behind. The first was to apologise for my friend's apparent rudeness, and the next to mark the sense of the gratification I had experienced as delicately as possible.

air

To the apology the Professor replied: "I'll tell you what, mister, that young āristocrat warn't no goney when he made tracks: ; my bristles was beginning to rise; I should have made a splurge if he'd lingered much longer." I inferred from these remarks that Lord William's further continuance in the room would have roused the Professor's ire to a degree that might have been dangerous, and I inwardly applauded the presence of mind that suggested his departure before me. I now came to the second part of my mission.

"I trust, madam," I said to Mrs. General Bunkum, "that you will permit me to repeat how perfectly satisfied I am with everything that has taken place having relation to myself and my sainted relative, and that you will suffer me to present you with a slight token of my regard and esteem."

My porte-monnaie was in my hand while I was speaking, and before either Mrs. General Bunkum or the Professor had time to make an objection, I took out a twenty-pound note, which I slid into the blottingJune-VOL. XCVIII. NO. cccxc.

L

book, and then hastily quitted the room; not so quickly, however, but that in going down stairs I could plainly hear a loud, hilarious expression of joy at my satisfactory recognition of the worth of the consulting parties.

Lord William was waiting for me on the door-step; I thrust my arm into his, and we walked away together.

For some time, neither of us spoke-I confess I was too much agitated to do so; at length Lord William broke silence:

"Well," said he, "you're the best hand at a mystification that ever I met with."

"Mystification ?" I replied; "what do you mean?"

66

Why, you made those people fancy that you were taken in with their gammon."

"Taken in,'-' gammon,'-I don't understand you, my lord."

"You don't mean to say that you didn't see through the trick about your note to me?"

"What possible trick' could there be, when the note was in your pocket all the time the rapping was going on?"

66 And you didn't see the Medium look at the blotting-book while I went to the window?"

"I saw it open before her, but what of that?”

"What,' indeed! why, every line that you wrote was transferred to the blotting-paper as legibly as it was left behind. It was only turning over a single page and there was the whole thing. I could have read it myself, upside-down."

For the credit of human nature I will not believe in this attempt to solve the mystery of the Spirit Manifestations in Doo-street, though Lord William obstinately persists in his theory.

I leave it to the public to decide between us.

THOMAS DE QUINCEY'S AUTOBIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES.*
WHY, gifted with such powers to send abroad
His spirit, must it lodge in shrines so frailt

as fugitive periodical and magazine? has too often, too long, been our question in respect to the writings of the English Opium-eater. At length he appears in a more fitting form-not, indeed, until twelve volumes of his scattered essays have been published in America-but in the first volume of what we trust may be a series most prolonged (in issue, as it has been in expectation) and most successful. The appearance of this volume being almost synchronous with this of our own June number, we have neither time nor room-albeit mighty inclination-to dilate on its thrice welcome advent. The general title, "Selections,

* Selections, Grave and Gay. From Writings published and unpublished, by Thomas de Quincey. (Vol. I. Autobiographic Sketches.) London: Groombridge and Sons. 1853.

† Prelude.