ered to raise up the Demon, or Guardian Angel, of Plotinus
in visible form. But there was only one pure spot in all Rome, so said
the priest, and this spot was the Temple of Isis. Here the _seance_ was
held, and no demon appeared, but a regular God of one of the first
circles. So terrified was an onlooker that he crushed to death the
living birds which he held in his hands for some ritual or magical
purpose.

It was a curious scene, a cosmopolitan confusion of Egypt, Rome, Isis,
table-turning, the late Mr. Home, religion, and mummery, while Christian
hymns of the early Church were being sung, perhaps in the garrets around,
outside the Temple of Isis. The discovery that he had a god for his
guardian angel gave Plotinus plenty of confidence in dealing with rival
philosophers. For example, Alexandrinus Olympius, another mystic, tried
magical arts against Plotinus. But Alexandrinus, suddenly doubling up
during lecture with unaffected agony, cried, "Great virtue hath the soul
of Plotinus, for my spells have returned against myself." As for
Plotinus, he remarked among his disciples, "Now the body of Alexandrinus
is collapsing like an empty purse."

How diverting it would be, Lady Violet, if our modern controversialists
had those accomplishments, and if Mr. Max Muller could, literally,
"double up" Professor Whitney, or if any one could cause Peppmuller to
collapse with his queer Homeric theory! Plotinus had many such arts. A
piece of jewellery was stolen from one of his _protegees_, a lady, and he
detected the thief, a servant, by a glance. After being flogged within
an inch of his life, the servant (perhaps to save the remaining inch)
confessed all.

Once when Porphyry was at a distance, and was meditating suicide,
Plotinus appeared at his side, saying, "This that thou schemest cometh
not of the pure intellect, but of black humours," and so sent Porphyry
for change of air to Sicily. This was thoroughly good advice, but during
the absence of the disciple the master died.

Porphyry did not see the great snake that glided into the wall when
Plotinus expired; he only heard of the circumstance. Plotinus's last
words were: "I am striving to release that which is divine within us, and
to merge it in the universally divine." It is a strange mixture of
philosophy and savage survival. The Zulus still believe that the souls
of the dead reappear, like the soul of Plotinus, in the form of serpents.

Plotinus wrote again