ed to the sharpest criticism and most
unrestrained abuse. Nevertheless, he was able not simply to maintain but
to augment the fame of his youth, and after a mediumship of more than
thirty years, could claim the unique distinction of not once having had
a charge of trickery proved against him.

Besides this, overcoming with astounding ease the handicaps of his
humble birth and lack of education, his life was one continued round of
social triumphs of the highest order; for he speedily won and retained
to the day of his death the confidence and friendship of leaders of
society in every European capital. With them, in castle, chateau, and
mansion, he made his home, always welcome and always trusted; and in his
days of greatest stress, days of ill health, vilification, and legal
entanglements, they rallied unfailingly to his aid. Add again that Kings
and Queens vied with one another in entertaining and rewarding him, and
it is possible to gain some idea of the heights scaled by this erstwhile
Connecticut country boy.

He began modestly enough by taking rooms at a quiet London hotel, where,
his fame having spread through the city, he soon had the pleasure of
giving a seance to two such distinguished personages as Lord Brougham
and Sir David Brewster. Both retired thoroughly mystified, though the
latter some months later asserted that while he "could not account for
all" he had witnessed, he had seen enough to satisfy himself "that they
could all be produced by hands and feet,"--a statement which, by the
way, was at variance from one he had made at the time, and involved him
in a most unpleasant controversy. After Brougham and Brewster came a
long succession of other notables, including the novelist Sir Bulwer
Lytton, to whom a most edifying experience was granted. Rapping away as
usual, the table suddenly indicated that it had a message for him, and
the alphabet being called over in the customary spiritistic style, it
spelled out:

"I am the spirit who influenced you to write Zanoni."

"Indeed!" quoth Lytton, with a skeptical smile. "Suppose you give me a
tangible proof of your presence?"

"Put your hand under the table."

No sooner done, than the invisible being gave him a hearty handshake,
and proceeded:

"We wish you to believe in the--" It stopped.

"In what? In the medium?"

"No."

At that moment there came a gentle tapping on his knee, and looking down
he found on it a small cardboard cross that had been ly