you an injury."
"Yes, it is true I have been ill, but the air rather refreshes me; and besides, I feel the melancholy of my solitude less here."
"Now farewell, dear lady; I must attend to the business of the castle."
This little word—"dear lady"—gave Sidonia such confidence, that by the time she expected Prince Ernest to pass again on his return, she was seated at the window awaiting him with her lute, to which she now sang in a clear, sweet voice. But the Prince passed on as if he heard nothing—never even once looked up, to Sidonia's great mortification. However, the moment he reached his own apartment, he commenced playing a melancholy air upon his lute, as if in response to hers. The artful young maiden no sooner heard this than she opened her door. The Prince at the same instant opened his to let out the smoke, and their eyes met, when Sidonia uttered a feeble cry and fell fainting upon the floor. The Prince, seeing this, flew to her, raised her up, and trembling with emotion, carried her back to her room and laid her down upon the bed. Now indeed it was well for him that he had given that promise to Ulrich. When Sidonia after some time slowly opened her eyes, the Prince asked tenderly what ailed her; and she said, "I must have taken cold at the window, for I felt very ill, and went to the door to call an attendant; but I must have fainted then, for I remember nothing more." Alas! the poor Prince, he believed all this, and conjured her to lie down until he called a maid, and sent for the physician if she desired it; but, no—she refused, and said it would pass off soon. (Ah, thou cunning maiden! it may well pass off when it never was on.)
However, she remained in bed until the next day, when the Princess and her train returned home from the funeral. Her Grace had assisted at the obsequies with all princely state, and even laid a crown of rosemary with her own hand upon the head of the corpse, and a little prayer-book beside it, open at that fine hymn "Pauli Sperati" (which also was sung over the grave). Then the husband laid a tin crucifix on the coffin, with the inscription from I John iii. 8—"The Son of God was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil." After which the coffin was lowered into the grave with many tears.
Some days after this, being Sunday, Doctor Gerschovius and the Grand Chamberlain were present at the ducal table. Ulrich indeed ate little, for he was filled with grief, only sipped a little broth, into which he had crumbled some reindeer cheese, not to appear ungracious; but when dinner was over, he raised his head, and asked Doctor Gerschovius to inform him now in what lay the difference between the prophets of God and those of the devil. The Duchess was charmed at the prospect of such a profitable discourse, and ordered a cushion and footstool to be placed for herself, that she might remain to hear it. Then she sent for the whole household—maidens, squires, and pages—that they too might be edified, and learn the true nature of the devil's gifts. The hall was soon as full, therefore, as if a sermon were about to be preached; and the doctor, seeing this, stroked his beard, and he begun as follows: [Footnote: Perhaps some readers will hold the rationalist doctrine that no prophecy is possible or credible, and that no mortal can under any circumstances see into futurity; but how then can they account for the wonderful phenomena of animal magnetism, which are so well authenticated? Do they deny all the facts which have been elicited by the great advance made recently in natural and physiological philosophy? I need not here bring forward proofs from the ancients, showing their universal belief in the possibility of seeing into futurity, nor a cloud of witnesses from our modern philosophers, attesting the truth of the phenomena of somnambulism, but only observe that this very Academy of Paris, which in 1784 anathematised Mesmer as a quack, a cheat, and a charlatan or fool, and which in conjunction with all the academies of Europe (that of Berlin alone excepted) reviled his doctrines and insulted all who upheld them, as witches had been reviled in preceding centuries, and compelled Mesmer himself to fly for protection to Frankfort—this very academy, I say, on the 12th February 1826, rescinded all their condemnatory verdicts, and proclaimed that the wonderful phenomena of animal magnetism had been so well authenticated that doubt was no longer possible. This confession of faith was the more remarkable, because the members of the commission of inquiry had been carefully selected, on purpose, from physicians who were totally adverse to the doctrines of Mesmer.
There are but two modes, I think, of explaining these extraordinary phenomena—either by supposing them effected by supernatural agency, as all seers and diviners from antiquity, through the Middle Ages down to our somnambulists, have pretended that they really stood in communication with spirit; or, by supposing that there is an innate latent divining element in our own natures, which only becomes evident and active under certain circumstances, and which is capable of revealing the future with more or less exactitude just as the mind can recall the past. For past and future are but different forms of our own subjective intuition of time, and because this internal intuition represents no figure, we seek to supply the defect by an analogy. For time exists within us, not without us; it is not something which subsists of itself, but it is the form only of our internal sense.
These two modes of explaining the phenomena present, I know, great difficulties; the latter especially. However, the pantheistical solution of the Hegelian school adopted by Kieser, Kluge, Wirth, Hoffman, pleases me still less. I even prefer that of Jung-Stilling and Kerner—but at all events one thing is certain, the facts are there; only ignorance, stupidity, and obstinacy can deny them. The cause is still a subject of speculation, doubt, and difficulty. It is only by a vast induction of facts, as in natural philosophy, that we can ever hope to arrive at the knowledge of a general law. The crown of all creation is man; therefore while we investigate so acutely all other creatures, let us not shrink back from the strange and unknown depths of our own nature which magnetism has opened to us.]
I am rejoiced to treat of this subject now, considering how lately that demon Lapp befooled ye all. And I shall give you many signs, whereby in future a prophet of God may be distinguished from a prophet of the devil. 1st, Satan's prophets are not conscious of what they utter; but God's prophets are always perfectly conscious, both of the inspiration they receive and the revelations they make known. For as the Laplander grew frenzied, and foamed at the mouth, so it has been with all false prophets from the beginning. Even the blind heathen called prophesying mania, or the wisdom of madness. The secret of producing this madness was known to them; sometimes it was by the use of roots or aromatic herbs, or by exhalations, as in the case of the Pythoness, whose incoherent utterances were written by the priests of Apollo, for when the fit was over, all remembrance of what she had prophesied vanished too. In the Bible we find all false prophets described as frenzied. In Isaiah xliv. 25—"God maketh the diviners mad." In Ezekiel xiii. 3—"Woe to the foolish prophets." Hosea ix. 7—"The prophet is a fool, the spiritual man is mad." And Isaiah xxviii. 7 explains fully how this madness was produced.
Namely, by wine and the strong drink Sekar. [Footnote: It is doubtful of what this drink was composed. Hieronymus and Aben Ezra imagine that it was of the nature of strong beer. Probably it resembled the potion with which the mystery-men amongst the savages of the present day produce this divining frenzy. We find such in use throughout Tartary, Siberia, America, and Africa, as if the usage had descended to them from one common tradition. Witches, it is well known, made frequent use of potions, and as all somnambulists assert that the seat of the soul's greatest activity is in the stomach, it is not incredible what Van Helmont relates, that having once tasted the root napellus, his intellect all at once, accompanied by an unusual feeling of ecstasy, seemed to remove from his brain to his stomach.] Further examples of this madness are given in the Bible, as Saul when under the influence of the evil spirit flung his spear at the innocent David; and the four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal, who leaped upon the altar, and screamed, and cut themselves with knives and lancets until the blood flowed; and the maiden with the spirit of divination, that met Paul in the streets of Philippi; with many others.
But all this is an abomination in the sight of God. For as the Lord came not to His prophet Elijah in the strong wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the still small voice, so does He evidence Himself in all His prophets; and we find no record in Scripture, either of their madness, or of their having forgotten the oracles they uttered, like the Pythoness and others inspired by Satan. [Footnote: It is well known that somnambulists never remember upon their recovery what they have uttered during the crisis. Therefore phenomena of this class appear to belong, in some things, to