here, and producing some vexation among her unbelieving friends. It was, however, worthy of herself, having, according to her own belief, received a great benefit from means not only questionable, but questioned, to come forward bravely and avouch the truth of it. Do you believe at all? I do, but it is in the highest degree repulsive to me as a subject, and suggestive of horror. It is making great way in England, and, as far as I can understand, is disputed more by the unlearned than the learned."
Writing to Horne in November, 1844, she says: "As you remind me, Miss Martineau is a great landmark to show how far a recovery can go. She can walk five miles a day now with ease, and is well, she says—not comparatively well, but well in the strict sense . . . She has an apocalyptic housemaid (save the mark!) who, being clairvoyante, prophesies concerning the anatomical structure of herself and others, and declares 'awful spiritual dicta' concerning the soul and the mind and their future destination; discriminating, says Miss Martineau, 'between what she hears at church and what is true' . . . I am credulous and superstitious, naturally, and find no difficulty in the wonder; only precisely because I believe it, I would not subject myself to this mystery at the will of another, and this induction into things unseen. My blood runs the wrong way to think of it. Is it lawful, or, if lawful, expedient? Do you believe a word of it, or are you sceptical like papa?"
Miss Martineau, with her usual stern idea of duty, considered it right that her cure and its cause should be told to the public. Unfortunately, her medical attendant, in order to controvert her theory, departed
