"Walking one day in the fields with a certain ninny of a goldsmith, named Marano, Beppo begins in his oily voluble way to hint that treasures often lay hid; that a certain treasure lay hid there (as he knew by some pricking of his thumbs, divining rod, or other talismanic monition), which treasure might, by the aid of science, courage, secrecy, and a small judicious advance of money, be fortunately lifted. The gudgeon takes--advances, by degrees, to the length of 'sixty gold ounces'--sees magic circles drawn in the wane or the full of the moon, blue (phosphorous) flames arise--split twigs auspiciously quiver--and at length demands, peremptorily, that the treasure be dug!"
Alas! why is it that the "spirits" so often fail us at our sorest need? Do _they_ deceive us; and, if not, who does? The treasure vanishes, or does not appear, "the conditions are imperfect," and the "ninny of a goldsmith" being roughly handled by these spiritual visitants, threatens to stiletto the adept; who, overcome with the ingratitude of the world, concludes to quit;--at least, in the words of his Inquisition biographer, "he fled from Palermo, and overran the whole earth."
We may see how he has grown--how, as in ordinary mortals, he advances step by step--even he, the favorite son of the higher intelligences, learns as he goes. How is it, then, that we can have no full-grown inspiration; that we know of no perfection--that we only go on towards it? Can it be that prophets and priests really do _learn_, and that even now, men may grow into the future? Might not a more thorough and scientific seminary for this purpose be established than any we now have--theologic, thaumaturgic, theosophic, or other variety? It is a question easier asked than answered.
"The Beppic Hegira brings us down in European history to somewhere about the period of the peace of Paris"--(A.D. ----), supervening upon which is a portentous time--"the multitudinous variety of quacks that, along with Beppo, overran all Europe during that same period--the latter half of the last century. It was the very age of impostors, cut-purses, swindlers, double gaugers, enthusiasts, ambiguous persons, quacks simple, quacks compound, crack-brained or with deceit prepense, quacks and quackeries of all colors and kinds. How many mesmerists (so speaks this strange author), magicians, cabalists, Swedenborgians, illuminati, crucified nuns, and devils of Loudun! To which the Inquisition biographer adds vampyres, sylphs, rosicrucians, free-masons, and an _et cetera_. Consider your Schropfers, Cagliostros, Casanovas, Saint Germains, Dr. Grahams, the Chevalier d'Eon, Psalmanazar, Abbé Paris, and the Ghost of Cock-lane!--as if Bedlam had broken loose!"