Can you tell me how the Indian fakir can make himself to die and have been buried, and his grave sealed and corn sowed on it, and the corn reaped and be cut and sown and reaped and cut again, and then men come and take away the unbroken seal and that there lie the Indian fakir, not dead, but that rise up and walk amongst them as before ?" Here I interrupted him.

I was getting bewildered.

He so crowded on my mind his list of nature's eccentricities and possible impossibilities that my imagination was getting fired.

I had a dim idea that he was teaching me some lesson, as long ago he used to do in his study at Amsterdam.

But he used them to tell me the thing, so that I could have the object of thought in mind all the time.