COINAGES OF THE BRAIN. 313 



stories gain credence, and secondly, of the promptitude with which the 

 windbag of fiction is pierced and annihilated by the lance of fact. 



In the Nineteenth Century for July 1884 appeared an article 

 written by the Secretaries of the " ghost -seeking society." In the 

 course of this article the ghost-seeing case of Sir Edmund Hornby, 

 late Chief Judge of the Supreme Consular Court of China and Japan, 

 is duly related. Sir Edmund "describes himself," says Dr. Maudsley, 

 " as a lawyer by education, family, and tradition, wanting in imagina- 

 tion, and no believer in miracles." Notwithstanding his unsusceptible 

 nature, Sir Edmund Hornby was evidently a personage with whom 

 the ghost-idea was a favoured institution. " It was his habit," says 

 Dr. Maudsley, " to allow reporters to come to his house in the evening 

 to get his written judgments for the next day's paper. On this occa- 

 sion he had written out his judgment, and left it with the butler for 

 the reporter, who was expected to call for it. Having gone to bed 

 and to sleep, he was awakened soon by a tap at the door, which 

 when he took no notice was repeated. In reply to his call ' Come in,' 

 the reporter solemnly entered and asked for the judgment. There- 

 upon ensued a dialogue between Sir E. Hornby who referred him 

 again and again to the butler, protesting against the unwarrantable in- 

 trusion and the reporter, who persisted in his earnest requests for the 

 judgment. Impressed at last by his solemn earnestness, and fearful 

 of awakening his wife (who had slept soundly during all the energetic 

 and animated dialogue), Sir Edmund gave him the gist of the judg- 

 ment, which he appeared to take down in shorthand, after which he 

 apologised for his intrusion and withdrew. It was then just half past 

 one. When Lady Hornby awoke, as she did immediately, the whole 

 incident was related to her. 



"Next day, when Sir Edmund entered the Court, the usher 

 announced to him the sudden death of the reporter some time 

 between one and half past one. The cause of death, as ascertained 

 by a formal inquest, was heart-disease. The poor man had not left 

 his house the night before. 



" Here, then, is a precise and circumstantial story related by a 

 person of eminence and ability, accustomed to weigh evidence, and 

 confirmed (for the writers say so) by his wife. Naturally it attracted 

 much attention, and much jubilant attention from those who were 

 specially interested in ghosts and apparitions. The Spectator saw in 

 it, I believe, incontestable proof of the reality of the spiritual world. 

 Amongst others, it attracted the attention of Mr. Balfour, the editor 

 of the North China Herald, who was well acquainted with Sir 

 Edmund and the reporter alluded to. In a letter to the Nineteenth 

 Century (November 1884) this gentleman asks the editor to compare 

 the story with the following remarks : 



" * i. Sir Edmund says Lady Hornby was with him at the time, and 



