scant upon the top of his head, was long, and reached to
his shoulders ; his beard was of unusual length, descend-
ing almost to his waist ; his hair, eyebrows and beard
were all of singular whiteness and purity, almost trans-
parent, a silvery whiteness that seemed an aureolar sheen
in the glare of the gaslight. What struck me as partic-
ularly remarkable was that his skin looked as soft and
smooth as that of a child ; there was not a blemish in it.
His age was a puzzle none could guess ; stripped of his
hair, or the color of it changed, he might be twenty-five —
given a few wrinkles, he might be ninety. Taken alto-
gether. I had never seen his like, nor anything approach-
ing his like, and for an instant there was a faint sugges-
tion to my mind that he was not of this earth, but
belonged to some other planet.

I now fancy he must have read my impressions of him
as these ideas shaped themselves in my brain, and that
he was quietly waiting for me to regain a degree of self-
possession that would allow him to disclose the purpose
of his visit.

He was first to break the silence : "I see that you
are not disposed to pay your wager any more than I am



" Never Less Alone Than When Alone " 1 1

to collect it, so we will not discuss that. I admit that
my introduction to-night was abrupt, but you cannot
deny that you challenged me to appear." I was not clear
upon the point, and said so. "Your memory is at fault,"
he continued, "if you cannot recall your experiences of
the day just past. Did you not attempt to interest your-
self in modern book lore, to fix your mind in turn upon
history, chemistry, botany, poetry, and general literature?
And all these failing, did you not deliberately challenge
Cicero to a practical demonstration of an old apothegm
of his that has survived for centuries, and of your own
free will did not you make a wager that, as an admirer
of Cicero's, I am free to accept?" To all this I could
but silently assent. "Very good, then ; we will not pursue
this subject further, as it is not relevant to my purpose,
which is to acquaint you with a narrative of unusual
interest, upon certain conditions, with which if you com-
ply, you will not only serve yourself, but me as well."

"Please name the conditions," I said.

"They are simple enough," he answered. "The narra-
tive I speak of is in manuscript. I shall produce it in the
near future, and my design is to read it aloud to you, or
to allow you to read it to me. as you may select. Further,
my wish is that during the reading you shall interpose
any objection or question that you deem proper. This
reading will occupy many evenings, and I shall of neces-
sity be with you often. When the reading is concluded,
we shall seal the package securely, and I shall leave you
forever. You will then deposit the manuscript in some
safe place, and let it remain for thirty years. When this
period has elapsed, I wish you to publish this history to
the world."

"Your conditions seem easy," I said, after a few sec-
onds' pause.

"They are certainly very simple; do you accept?"

I hesitated, for the prospect of giving myself up to a
succession of interviews with this extraordinary and mys-
terious personage seemed to require consideration. He



1 2 Etidorhpa

evidently divined my thoughts, for, rising from his chair,
he said abruptly : "Let me have your answer now."

I debated the matter no further, but answered: "I ac-
cept, conditionally."

"Name your conditions," the guest replied.

"I will either publish the work, or induce some other
man to do so."

"Good," he said ; "I shall see you again," with a polite
bow ; and turning to the door which I had previously
locked, he opened it softly, and with a quiet "Good-night"
disappeared in the hallway.

I looked after him with bewildered senses ; but a sud-
den impulse caused me to glance toward the table, when
I saw that he had forgotten his knife. With the view of
returning this, I reached to pick it up, but my finger-tips
no sooner touched the handle than a sudden chill shivered
along my nerves. Not as an electric shock, but rather as
a sensation of extreme cold was the current that ran
through me in an instant. Rushing into the hallway
to the landing of the stairs, I called after the mysterious
being, "You have forgotten your knife," but beyond the
faint echo of my voice. I heard no sound. The phantom
was gone. A moment later t was at the foot of the
stairs, and had thrown open the door. A street lamp
shed an uncertain light in front of the house. I stepped
out and listened intently for a moment, but not a sound
was audible, if indeed I except the beating of my own
heart, which throbbed so wildly that I fancied I heard it.
No footfall echoed from the deserted streets ; all was
silent as a churchyard, and I closed and locked the door,
softly tiptoed my way back to my room, and sank col-
lapsed into an easy-chair. I was more than exhausted ; I
quivered from head to foot, not with cold, but with a
strange nervous chill that found intensest expression in
my spinal column, and seemed to flash up and down my
back, vibrating like a feverous pulse. This active pain
was succeeded by a feeling of frozen numbness, and I
sat I know not how long, trying to tranquillize myself



" Never Less Alone Than When Alone " 13

and think temperately of the night's occurrence. By
degrees I recovered my normal sensations, and direct-
ing my will in the channel of sober reasoning, I said to
myself: "There can be no mistake about his visit, for his
knife is here as a witness to the fact. So much is sure,
and I will secure that testimony at all events." With
this reflection I turned to the table, but to my astonish-
ment I discovered that the knife had disappeared. It
needed but this miracle to start the perspiration in great
cold beads from every pore. My brain was in a whirl,
and reeling into a chair, I covered my face with my
hands. How long I sat in this posture I do not remem-
ber. I only know that I began to doubt my own sanity,
and wondered if this were not the way people became de-
ranged. Had not my peculiar habits of isolation, irreg-
ular and intense study, erratic living, all conspired to
imseat reason? Surely there was every ground to believe
so ; and yet I was able still to think consistently and hold
steadily to a single line of thought. Insane people cannot
do that, I reflected, and gradually the tremor and excite-
ment wore away. When I had become calmer and more
collected, and my sober judgment said, "Go to bed; sleep
just as long as you can ; hold your eyelids down, and
when you awake refreshed, as you will, think out the
whole subject at your leisure," I arose, threw open the
shutters, and found that day was breaking. Hastily un-
dressing I went to bed, and closed my eyes, vaguely con-
scious of some soothing guardianship. Perhaps because
I was physically exhausted, I soon lost myself in the
oblivion of sleep.

I did not dream — at least I could not afterwards re-
member my dream if I had one, but I recollect thinking
that somebody struck ten distinct blows on my door,
which seemed to me to be of metal and very sonorous.
These ten blows in my semi-conscious state I counted.
I lay very quiet for a time collecting my thoughts and
noting various objects about the room, until my eye
caught the dial of a French clock upon the mantel. It



14 Etidorhpa

was a few minutes past ten, and the blows I had heard
were the strokes of the hammer upon the gong in the
clock. The sun was shining into the room, which was
quite cold, for the fire had gone out. I arose, dressed
myself quickly, and after thoroughly laving my face and
hands in ice-cold water, felt considerably refreshed.

Before going out to breakfast, while looking around
the room for a few things wdiich I wanted to take with
me, I espied upon the table a long white hair. This was
indeed a surprise, for I had about concluded that my
adventure of the previous night was a species of waking
nightmare, the result of overworked brain and weakened
body. But here w^as tangible evidence to the contrary,
an assurance that my mysterious visitor was not a fancy
or a dream, and his parting w^ords, "I shall see you again,"
recurred to me with singular effect. "He will see me
again ; very well ; I will preserve this evidence of his
visit for future use." I wound the delicate filament into a
little coil, folded it carefully in a bit of paper, and con-
signed it to a corner in my pocket-book, though not with-
out some misgiving that it, too, might disappear as did
the knife.

The strange experience of that night had a good effect
on me ; I became more regular in all my habits, took abun-
dant sleep and exercise, was more methodical in my modes
of study and reasoning, and in a short time found myself
vastly improved in every way, mentally and physically.

The days went fleeting into weeks, the weeks into
months, and while the form and figure of the white-haired
stranger were seldom absent from my mind, he came no
more.



CHAPTER III.

A FRIENDLY CONFERENCE,

It is rare, in our present civilization, to find a man who
lives alone. This remark does not apply to hermits or
persons of abnormal or perverted mental tendencies, but
to the majority of mankind living and moving actively
among their fellows, and engaged in the ordinary occu-
pations of humanity. Every man must have at least
one confidant, either of his own household or within the
circle of his intimate friends. There may possibly be
rare exceptions among persons of genius in statecraft,
war, or commerce, but it is doubtful even in such in-
stances if any keep all their thoughts to themselves, her-
metically sealed from their fellows. As a prevailing rule,
either a loving wife or very near friend shares the inner
thought of the most secretive individual, even when
secrecy seems an indispensable element to success. The
tendency to a free interchange of ideas and experiences
is almost universal, instinct prompting the natural man
to unburden his most sacred thought, when the proper
confidant and the proper time come for the disclosure.

For months I kept to myself the events narrated in
the preceding chapter. And this for several reasons :
first, the dread of ridicule that would follow the relation
of the fantastic occurrences, and the possible suspicion of
my sanity, that might result from the recital ; second, very
grave doubts as to the reality of my experiences. But
by degrees self-confidence was restored, as I reasoned
the matter over and reassured myself by occasional con-
templation of the silvery hair I had coiled in my pocket-
book, and which at first I had expected would vanish as
did the stranger's knife. There came upon me a feeling



1 6 Etidorhpa

that I should see my weird visitor again, and at an early
day. I resisted this impression, for it was a touch of the
idea, rather than a thought, but the vague expectation
grew upon me in spite of myself, until at length it be-
came a conviction which no argument or logic could
shake. Curiously enough, as the original incident re-
ceded into the past, this new idea thrust itself into the
foreground, and I began in my own mind to court another
interview. At times, sitting alone after night, I felt that
I was watched by unseen eyes ; these eyes haunted me in
my solitude, and I was morally sure of the presence of
another than myself in the room. The sensation was at
first unpleasant, and I tried to throw it off, with partial
success. But only for a little while could I banish the
intrusive idea, and as the thought took form, and the in-
visible presence became more actual to consciousness, I
hoped that the stranger would make good his parting
promise, "I shall see you again."

On one thing I was resolved ; I would at least be better
informed on the subject of hallucinations and apparitions,
and not be taken unawares as I had been. To this end I
decided to confer with my friend. Professor Chickering,
a quiet, thoughtful man, of varied accomplishments, and
thoroughly read upon a great number of topics, especially
in the literature of the marvellous.

So to the Professor I went, after due appointment, and
confided to him full particulars of my adventure. He
listened patiently throughout, and when I had finished,
assured me in a matter-of-fact way that such hallucina-
tions were by no means rare. His remark was provok-
ing, for I did not expect from the patient interest he had
shown while I was telling my story, that the whole mat-
ter would be dismissed thus summarily. I said with
some warmth :

"But this was not a hallucination. I tried at first to
persuade myself that it was illusory, but the more I have
thought the experience over, the more real it becomes to
me."



A Friendly Conference 17

"Perhaps you were dreaming," suggested the Pro-
fessor.

"No," I answered; "I have tried that hypothesis, and
it will not do. Many things make that view untenable."

"Do not be too sure of that," he said ; "you were, by
your own account, in a highly nervous condition, and
physically tired. It is possible, perhaps probable, that
in this state, as you sat in your chair, you dozed off for
a short interval, during which the illusion flashed through
your mind."

"How do you explain the fact that incidents occupy-
ing a large portion of the night occurred in an interval
which you describe as a flash?"

"Easily enough ; in dreams time may not exist ; periods
embracing weeks or months may be reduced to an in-
stant. Long journeys, hours of conversation, or a multi-
tude of transactions, may be compressed into a term
measured by the opening or closing of a door, or the strik-
ing of a clock. In dreams, ordinary standards of reason
find no place, while ideas or events chase through the
mind more rapidly than thought."

"Conceding all this, why did I, considering the unusual
character of the incidents, accept them as real, as sub-
stantial, as natural, indeed, as the most commonplace
events?"

"There is nothing extraordinary in that," he replied.
"In dreams all sorts of absurdities, impossibilities, dis-
cordancies, and violation of natural law appear to be reali-
ties, without exciting the least surprise or suspicion.
Imagination runs riot and is supreme, and reason for the
time is dormant. We see ghosts, spirits, the forms of per-
sons dead or living — we suffer pain, pleasure, hunger —
and all sensations and emotions, without a moment's ques-
tion of their realit)'."

"Do any of the subjects of our dreams or visions leave
tangible evidences of their presence?"

"Assuredly not," he answered, with an incredulous,
half-impatient gesture ; "the idea is absurd."



1 8 Etidorhpa

"Then I was not dreaming," I mused.

Without looking at me, the Professor went on : "These
false presentiments may have their origin in other ways,
as from mental disorders caused by indigestion. Nicolai,
a noted bookseller of Berlin, was thus afflicted. His ex-
periences are interesting and possibly suggestive. Let
me read some of them to you."

The Professor hereupon glanced over his bookshelf,
selected a volume, and proceeded to read :*

"I generally saw human forms of both sexes ; but they usually
seemed not to take the smallest notice of each other, moving as
in a market place, where all are eager to press through the crowd ;
at times, however, they seemed to be transacting business with
each other. I also saw several times, people on horseback, dogs,
and birds.

"All these phantasms appeared to me in their natural size, and
as distinct as if alive, exhibiting different shades of carnation in
the uncovered parts, as well as different colors and fashions in
their dresses, though the colors seemed somewhat paler than in
real nature. None of the figures appeared particularly terrible,
comical, or disgusting, most of them being of indifferent shape,
and some presenting a pleasant aspect. The longer these phan-
tasms continued to visit me, the more frequently did they return,
while at the same time they increased in number about four weeks
after they had first appeared. I also began to hear them talk:
these phantoms conversed among themselves, but more frequently
addressed their discourse to me ; their speeches were uncommonly
short, and never of an unpleasant turn. At different times there
appeared to me both dear and sensible friends of both sexes,
whose addresses tended to appease my grief, which had not yet
wholly subsided : their consolatory speeches were in general ad-
dressed to me when I was alone. Sometimes, however, I was
accosted by these consoling friends while I was engaged in com-
pany, and not infrequently while real persons were speaking to me.
These consolatory addresses consisted sometimes of abrupt
phrases, and at other times they were regularly executed."



*This work I have found to be Vol. IV. of Chambers' Miscel-
lany, published by Gould and Lincoln, Boston. — J. U. L.



A Friendly Conference 19

Here I interrupted: "I note, Professor, that Mr. Nico-
lai knew these forms to be illusions."

Without answering my remark, he continued to read :

"There is in imagination a potency far exceeding the fabled
power of Aladdin's lamp. How often does one sit in wintry even-
ing musings, and trace in the glowing embers the features of an
absent friend? Imagination, with its magic wand, will there build
a city with its countless spires, or marshal contending armies, or
drive the tempest-shattered ship upon the ocean. The following
story, related by Scott, affords a good illustration of this prin-
ciple:

" 'Not long after the death of an illustrious poet, who had filled,
while living, a great station in the eyes of the public, a literary
friend, to whom the deceased had been well known, was engaged
during the darkening twilight of an autumn evening in perusing
one of the publications which professed to detail the habits and
opinions of the distinguished individual who was now no more.
As the reader had enjoyed the intimacy of the deceased to a con-
siderable degree, he was deeply interested in the publication, which
contained some particulars relating to himself and other friends.
A visitor was sitting in the apartment, who was also engaged in
reading. Their sitting-room opened into an entrance hall, rather
fantastically fitted up with articles of armor, skins of wild animals,
and the like. It was when laying down his book, and passing into
this hall, through which the moon was beginning to shine, that the
indiridual of whom I speak saw right before him, in a standing
posture, the exact representation of his departed friend, whose
recollection had been so strongly brought to his imagination. He
stopped for a single moment, so as to notice the wonderful ac-
curacy with which fancy had impressed upon the bodily eye the
peculiarities of dress and position of the illustrious poet. Sensible,
however, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment save that of wonder
at the extraordinary accuracy of the resemblance, and stepped
onward to the figure, which resolved itself as he approached into
the various materials of which it was composed. These were
merely a screen occupied by great coats, shawls, plaids, and such
other articles as are usually found in a country entrance hall. The
spectator returned to the spot from which he had seen the illusion,
and endeavored with all his power to recall the image which had
been so singularly vivid. But this he was unable to do. And the
person who had witnessed the apparition, or, more properly, whose



20 Etidorhpa

excited state had been the means of raising it, had only to return
to the apartment, and tell his young friend under what a striking
hallucination he had for a moment labored.' "

Here I was constrained to call the Professor to a halt.
"Your stories are very interesting," I said, "but I fail
to perceive any analogy in either the conditions or the in-
cidents, to my experience. I was fully awake and con-
scious at the time, and the man I saw appeared and moved
about in the full glare of the gaslight — "

"Perhaps not," he answered ; "I am simply giving you
some general illustrations of the subject. But here is a
case more to the point."

Again he read :

"A lady was once passing through a wood, in the darkening
twilight of a stormy evening, to visit a friend who was watching
over a dying child. The clouds were thick — the rain beginning to
fall; darkness was increasing; the wind was moaning mournfully
through the trees. The lady's heart almost failed her as she saw
that she had a mile to walk through the woods in the gathering
gloom. But the reflection of the situation of her friend forbade
her turning back. Excited and trembling, she called to her aid a
nervous resolution, and pressed onward. She had not proceeded
far when she beheld in the path before her the movement of .some
very indistinct object. It appeared to keep a little distance ahead
of her, and as she made efforts to get nearer to see what it was, it
seemed proportionally to recede. The lady began to feel rather
unpleasantly. There was some pale white object certainly dis-
cernible before her, and it appeared mysteriously to float along,
at a regular distance, without any effort at motion. Notwithstand-
ing the lady's good sense and unusual resolution, a cold chill began
to come over her. She made every effort to resist her fears, and
soon succeeded in drawing nearer the mysterious object, when
she was appalled at beholding the features of her friend's child,
cold in death, wrapt in its shroud. She gazed earnestly, and there
it remained distinct and clear before her eyes. She considered it a
premonition that her friend's child was dead, and that she must
hasten to her aid. But there was the apparition directly in her
path. She must pass it. Taking up a little stick, she forced her-
self along to the object, and behold, some little animal scampered



A Friendly Conference 21

away. It was this that her excited imagination had transformed
into the corpse of an infant in its winding sheet."

I was a little irritated, and once more interrupted the
reader warmly : "This is exasperating. Now what resem-
blance is there between the vagaries of a hysterical, weak-
minded woman and my case?"

He smiled, and again read :

"The numerous stories told of ghosts, or the spirits of persons
who are dead, will in most instances be found to have originated
in diseased imagination, aggravated by some abnormal defect of
mind. We may mention a remarkable case in point, and one which
is not mentioned in English works on this subject; it is told by a
compiler of Les Causes Celebres. Two young noblemen, the
Marquises De Rambouillet and De Precy, belonging to two of
the first families of France, made an agreement, in the warmth of
their friendship, that the one who died first should return to the
other with tidings of the world to come. Soon afterward De
Rambouillet went to the wars in Flanders, while De Precy re-
mained at Paris, stricken by a fever. Lying alone in bed, and
severely ill, De Precy one day heard a rustling of his bed curtains,
and turning round, saw his friend De Rambouillet, in full military
attire. The sick man sprung over the bed to welcome his friend,
but the other receded, and said that he had come to fulfil his
promise, having been killed on that very day. He further said that
it behooved De Precy to think more of the after world, as all that
was said of it was true, and as he himself would die in his first
battle. De Precy was then left by the phantom ; and it was after-
ward found that De Rambouillet had fallen on that day."

"Ah," I said, "and so the phantom predicted an event
that followed as indicated."

"Spiritual illusions," explained the Professor, "are not
unusual, and well-authenticated cases are not wanting in
which they have been induced in persons of intelligence
by functional or organic disorders. In the case last cited,
the prediction was followed by a fulfilment, but this was
chance or mere coincidence. It would be strange indeed
if in the multitude of dreams that come to humanity,
some few should not be followed by events so similar



2 2 Etidorhpa

as to warrant the belief that they were prefigured. But
here is an illustration that fits your case : let me read it :

"In some instances it may be difficult to decide whether spectral
appearances and spectral noises proceed from physical derange-
ment or from an overwrought state of mind. Want of exercise
and amusement may also be a prevailing cause. A friend mentions
to us the following case : An acquaintance of his, a merchant, in