nce. The captain then reminded
him that they were old acquaintance, and at my request he consented to
remain.

"'Your wine,' exclaimed O'Malley, as he tossed down a bumper, after his
usual manner; 'your wine, lieutenant, is the vilest stuff that ever
tortured an honest fellow's bowels. Let us see if this is of a better
sort.'

"He then took a bottle from the pocket of the cloak which he had drawn
over his shirt, and filled the glasses. We pronounced the wine
excellent, and considered it to be very fiery Hungarian.

"Somehow or other, I cannot say how, conversation turned upon magical
operations, and particularly upon the book of ill report, to which I
have already alluded. The captain, especially when he had drunk wine,
had a certain scoffing tone, which every one could not endure, and in
this tone he began to talk about military exorcisors and wizards, who
had done very pretty things at that time, so that even at the present
time people revered their power, and made offerings to it. 'Whom do
you mean?' cried O'Malley, in a threatening tone; 'whom do you mean,
captain? If you mean me, we will put the subject of raising spirits
aside; I can show you that I understand the art of conjuring the soul
out of the body, and for that art I require no talisman but my sword or
a good pistol-barrel.'

"There was nothing the captain desired less than a quarrel with
O'Malley. He therefore gave a neat turn to the subject, asserting that
he did indeed mean the major, but intended nothing but a jest, which
was, perhaps, an ill-timed one. Now, however, he would ask the major
in earnest, whether he would not do well by contradicting the silly
rumour, that he commanded mysterious powers, and thus, in his own
person, check the foolish superstition, which by no means accorded with
an age so enlightened. The major leaned completely across the table,
rested his head on both his fists, so that his nose was scarcely a span
removed from the captain's face, and then said very calmly, staring at
him with his prominent eyes: 'Even, friend, if Heaven has not blessed
you with a very penetrating intellect, I hope you will be able to see,
that it is the silliest conceit, nay, I may say, the most atrocious
presumption to believe that with our own spiritual existence every
thing is concluded, and that there are no spiritual beings, which,
differently endowed from ourselves, often from their own nature alone,
make themselves temporary forms,