however, his real name gets abroad; and finally
it travelled to Prince Charles's ears, who was
now living at the palace at Dresden, that the
coffee-house keeper whom he had chastised by
curacy, had actually come to the city. The news
was received by the poor prince with prodigious
alarm.

Schrepfer was staying at the Hôtel de
Pologne, and was one day surprised by the
arrival of the repentant prince; who came, in
person, to entreat his forgiveness. In presence
of several persons he submitted to the
degradation of asking his pardon. The magician
was gracious enough to overlook the past,
after so handsome an apology. Then the prince
is said to have humbly begged to see some
specimen of his skill. And on the spot he exhibited
some curious phenomena, which had only the
effect of stimulating the prince's appetite. He
was anxious for some splendid and confounding
exertion. The magician was willing to gratify
the prince, but stipulated, naturally enough, for
a reasonable time to prepare himself, and
possibly to get ready his elaborate and complicated
apparatus. The prince, much according to the
modern ritual, was requested to name the spirit
he desired to raise; and, after some thought,
he selected the well-known Chevalier de Saxe,
his own uncle, deceased not very long, and who
had bequeathed to him all his property. He had
had no children, and was suspected of having
been enormously rich. There were rumours that
large sums were secreted somewhere in the
palace; and that the grateful nephew, already
inheritor of all his uncle's accessible wealth,
had other motives than the yearnings of affection
for wishing to raise the ghost of his relative.

The necromancer professed the greatest
repugnance and disinclination to the whole
operation. He was coy, and maintained a sort of
coquetry which is often part of the armoury of
modern professors. He said it was a painful
and distasteful business, fraught with general
incidents of horror. Much persuasion was
necessary, but he finally agreed to fix a night
when the Chevalier de Saxe should be called
up from the grave.

The strictest secresy was insisted on; for it
was known that the reigning Elector was strongly
averse to such experiments; and, moreover,
would not relish the scandal and public remark
which would most likely ensue. The grand
gallery was selected as the locus in quo, and
only a small party of nineteen were let into the
secret. The travelling baronet knew several
of them intimately, and describes them as
persons of "consideration, character, and
respectability."

They all met at an appointed hour of the
night; the prince, his friends, and the performer.
All the doors and windows were carefully tried,
and as carefully secured; and all being satisfied
that no person or thing could see his entrance
or exit, Schrepfer stood out in the middle and
began to speak. He made a solemn introductory
harangue, informed them that the spectacle
they were about to witness would require all
their firmness; and concluded by advising such
as felt timorous or faint-hearted to withdraw
while there was yet opportunity. No, not
exactly that; to adopt the more suspicious
alternative of deriving strength and comfort
from a "bowl of punch" which was then
disclosed to view.* This preparation for
witnessing a feat which would require all the
critical powers in their nicest balance
undisturbed by any foreign cloudy influence,
was, strange to say, acceded to by nearly all
the party; the temptation, we presume,
proving too seductive for the German
organisation then present. The gentleman who
afterwards related the adventure, alone refused
to have his judgment contaminated by the mixture,
and declared boldly that " he would either
see all or see nothing." Another gentleman,
who, says Sir Nathaniel, ambiguously,
"preserved his presence of mind," placed himself at
the door to see that there was no unfair play.
It is not mentioned whether this gentleman had
passed through the spirituous probation. All
things being ready, the feelings of the company
were wrought up by expectation (and punch) to
the very highest pitch.

The ceremonies commenced by the magician's
retiring into a corner and kneeling down to pray.
His invocations were understood to be
addressed to the spirits generally. During the
process he was seen to labour under very great
agitation, and to work violently with jerks and
cataleptic gestures. Much impressed, the
company waited patiently, and at length were
rewarded by hearing all the windows clattering
violently. Then came a sound, which the
witness unaffected by punch, described to be like
"a number of wet fingers drawn over the edge
of wine-glasses." Wet fingers drawn over the
edge of wine-glasses are quite as legitimate
spiritual manifestations as cracks and other
sounds proceeding from the table on which
those glasses may be standing. But, on this
occasion, this remarkable music was said to
announce the arrival of the good or protecting
spirits. This was so far satisfactory. After
another cataleptic display on the part of the
Medium, the gentleman unaffected by punch
was startled by sounds of quite a different
description, "a yelling of a frightful and unusual
nature," and which was interpreted as proceeding
from a company of "malignant spirits,"
newly arrived.

The show having proceeded thus far, although
no very wonderful feat had yet been performed,
we learn that the company were "electrified
with amazement or petrified with horror"—a
result so disproportioned to the disposing cause,
that we are strongly disposed to suspect
something in the punch.

The invocations went on with redoubled

* Much as a modern Medium, on a certain
occasion within our knowledge, very strongly
importuned all his company to smell a certain rose
he had brought with him.