INTERLUDE.

CHAPTER LII.
THE LAST FAREWELL.

My mysterious guest, he of the silver, flowing beard, read the last word of the foregoing manuscript, and then laid the sheet of paper on the table, and rested his head upon his hand, gazing thoughtfully at the open fire. Thus he sat for a considerable period in silence. Then he said:

"You have heard part of my story, that portion which I am commanded to make known now, and you have learned how, by natural methods, I passed by successive steps while in the body, to the door that death only, as yet, opens to humanity. You understand also that, although of human form, I am not as other men (for with me matter is subservient to mind), and as you have promised, so you must act, and do my bidding concerning the manuscript."

"But there is surely more to follow. You will tell me of what you saw and experienced beyond the end of earth, within the possessions of Etidorhpa. Tell me of that Unknown Country."

"No," he answered; "this is the end, at least so far as my connection with you is concerned. You still question certain portions of my narrative, I perceive, notwithstanding the provings I have given you, and yet as time passes investigation will show that every word I have read or uttered is true, historically, philosophically, and spiritually (which you now doubt), and men will yet readily understand how the seemingly profound, unfathomable phenomena I have encountered may be verified. I have studied and learned by bitter experience in a school that teaches from the outgoings of a deeper philosophy than human science has reached, especially modern materialistic science which, however, step by step it is destined to reach. And yet I have recorded but a small part of the experiences that I have undergone. What I have related is only a foretaste of the inexhaustible feast which, in the wisdom expanse of the future, will yet be spread before man, and which tempts him onward and upward. This narrative, which rests against the beginning of my real story, the Unknown Country and its possibilities should therefore incite to renewed exertions, both mental and experimental, those permitted to review it. I have carried my history to the point at which I can say to you, very soon afterward I gave up my body temporarily, by a perfectly natural process, a method that man can yet employ, and passed as a spiritual being into the ethereal spaces, through those many mansions which I am not permitted to describe at this time, and from which I have been forced unwillingly to return and take up the semblance of my body, in order to meet you and record these events. I must await the development and expansion of mind that will permit men to accept this faithful record of my history before completing the narrative, for men are yet unprepared. Men must seriously consider those truths which, under inflexible natural laws, govern the destiny of man, but which, if mentioned at this day can only be viewed as the hallucinations of a disordered mind. To many this manuscript will prove a passing romance, to others an enigma, to others still it will be a pleasing study. Men are not now in a condition to receive even this paper. That fact I know full well, and I have accordingly arranged that thirty years shall pass before it is made public. Then they will have begun to study more deeply into force disturbances, exhibitions of energy that are now known and called imponderable bodies (perhaps some of my statements will then even be verified), and to reflect over the connection of matter therewith. A few minds will then be capable of vaguely conceiving possibilities, which this paper will serve to foretell, for a true solution of the great problems of the ethereal unknown is herein suggested, the study of which will lead to a final elevation of humanity, such as I dare not prophesy."

"Much of the paper is obscure to me," I said; "and there are occasional phrases and repetitions that appear to be interjected, possibly, with an object, and which are yet disconnected from the narrative proper."

"That is true; the paper often contains statements that are emblematical, and which you can not understand, but yet such portions carry to others a hidden meaning. I am directed to speak to many persons besides yourself, and I can not meet those whom I address more directly than I do through this communication. These pages will serve to instruct many people—people whom you will never know, to whom I have brought messages that will in secret be read between the lines."

"Why not give it to such persons?"

"Because I am directed to bring it to you," he replied, "and you are required:

"First, To seal the manuscript, and place it in the inner vault of your safe.

"Second, To draw up a will, and provide in case of your death, that after the expiration of thirty years from this date, the seals are to be broken, and a limited edition published in book form, by one you select.

"Third, An artist capable of grasping the conceptions will at the proper time be found, to whom the responsibility of illustrating the volume is to be entrusted, he receiving credit therefor. Only himself and yourself (or your selected agent) are to presume to select the subjects for illustration.

"Fourth, In case you are in this city, upon the expiration of thirty years, you are to open the package and follow the directions given in the envelope therein."

And he then placed on the manuscript a sealed envelope addressed to myself.

"This I have promised already," I said.

"Very well," he remarked, "I will bid you farewell."

"Wait a moment; it is unjust to leave the narrative thus uncompleted. You have been promised a future in comparison with which the experiences you have undergone, and have related to me, were tame; you had just met on the edge of the inner circle that mysterious being concerning whom I am deeply interested, as I am in the continuation of your personal narrative, and you have evidently more to relate, for you must have passed into that Unknown Country. You claim to have done so, but you break the thread in the most attractive part by leaving the future to conjecture."

"It must be so. This is a history of man on Earth, the continuation will be a history of man within the Unknown Country."

"And I am not to receive the remainder of your story?" I reiterated, still loth to give it up.

"No; I shall not appear directly to you again. Your part in this work will have ended when, after thirty years, you carry out the directions given in the sealed letter which, with this manuscript, I entrust to your care. I must return now to the shore that separated me from my former guide, and having again laid down this semblance of a body, go once more into"—

He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Yes; this strange, cynical being whom I had at first considered an impertinent fanatic, and then, more than once afterward, had been induced to view as a cunning impostor, or to fear as a cold, semi-mortal, sobbed like a child.

"It is too much," he said, seemingly speaking to himself; "too much to require of one not yet immortal, for the good of his race. I am again with men, nearly a human, and I long to go back once more to my old home, my wife, my children. Why am I forbidden? The sweets of Paradise can not comfort the mortal who must give up his home and family, and yet carry his earth-thought beyond. Man can not possess unalloyed joys, and blessings spiritual, and retain one backward longing for mundane subjects, and I now yearn again for my earth love, my material family. Having tasted of semi-celestial pleasures in one of the mansions of that complacent, pure, and restful sphere, I now exist in the border land, but my earth home is not relinquished, I cling as a mortal to former scenes, and crave to meet my lost loved ones. All of earth must be left behind if Paradise is ever wholly gained, yet I have still my sublunary thoughts.

"Etidorhpa! Etidorhpa!" he pleaded, turning his eyes as if towards one I could not see, "Etidorhpa, my old home calls. Thou knowest that the beginning of man on earth is a cry born of love, and the end of man on earth is a cry for love; love is a gift of Etidorhpa, and thou, Etidorhpa, the soul of love, should have compassion on a pleading mortal."

He raised his hands in supplication.

"Have mercy on me, Etidorhpa, as I would on you if you were I and I were Etidorhpa."

Then with upturned face he stood long and silent, listening.

"Ah," he murmured at last, as if in reply to a voice I could not catch, a voice that carried to his ear an answer of deep disappointment; "thou spokest truly in the vision, Etidorhpa: it is love that enslaves mankind; love that commands; love that ensnares and rules mankind, and thou, Etidorhpa, art the soul of Love. True it is that were there no Etidorhpa, there would still be tears on earth, but the cold, meaningless tears of pain only. No mourning people, no sorrowful partings, no sobbing mothers kneeling with upturned faces, no planting of the myrtle and the rose on sacred graves. There would be no child-love, no home, no tomb, no sorrow, no Beyond"—

He hesitated, sank upon his knees, pleadingly raised his clasped hands and seemed to listen to that far-off voice, then bowed his head, and answered:

"Yes; thou art right, Etidorhpa—although thou bringest sorrow to mortals, without thee and this sorrow-gift there could be no bright hereafter. Thou art just, Etidorhpa, and always wise. Love is the seed, and sorrow is the harvest, but this harvest of sadness is to man the richest gift of love, the golden link that joins the spirit form that has fled to the spirit that is still enthralled on earth. Were there no earth-love, there could be no heart-sorrow; were there no craving for loved ones gone, the soul of man would rest forever a brother of the clod. He who has sorrowed and not profited by his sorrow-lesson, is unfitted for life. He who heeds best his sorrow-teacher is in closest touch with humanity, and nearest to Etidorhpa. She who has drank most deeply of sorrow's cup has best fitted herself for woman's sphere in life, and a final home of immortal bliss. I will return to thy realms, Etidorhpa, and this silken strand of sorrow wrapped around my heart, reaching from earth to Paradise and back to earth, will guide at last my loved ones to the realms beyond—the home of Etidorhpa."

Rising, turning to me, and subduing his emotion, ignoring this outburst, he said:

"If time should convince you that I have related a faithful history, if in after years you come to learn my name (I have been forbidden to speak it), and are convinced of my identity, promise me that you will do your unbidden guest a favor."

"I STOOD ALONE IN MY ROOM HOLDING THE MYSTERIOUS MANUSCRIPT."

"This I will surely do; what shall it be?"

"I left a wife, a little babe, and a two-year-old child when I was taken away, abducted in the manner that I have faithfully recorded. In my subsequent experience I have not been able to cast them from my memory. I know that through my error they have been lost to me, and will be until they change to the spirit, after which we will meet again in one of the waiting Mansions of the Great Beyond. I beg you to ascertain, if possible, if either my children, or my children's children live, and should they be in want, present them with a substantial testimonial. Now, farewell."

He held out his hand, I grasped it, and as I did so, his form became indistinct, and gradually disappeared from my gaze, the fingers of my hand met the palm in vacancy, and with extended arms I stood alone in my room, holding the mysterious manuscript, on the back of which I find plainly engrossed:

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

EPILOGUE.
LETTER ACCOMPANYING THE MYSTERIOUS MANUSCRIPT.

The allotted thirty years have passed, and as directed, I, Llewellyn Drury, now break the seals, and open the envelope accompanying the mysterious package which was left in my hand, and read as follows:

Herein find the epilogue to your manuscript. Also a picture of your unwelcome guest, I—Am—The—Man, which you are directed to have engraved, and to use as a frontispiece to the volume. There are men yet living to bear witness to my identity, who will need but this picture to convince them of the authenticity of the statements in the manuscript, as it is the face of one they knew when he was a young man, and will recognize now that he is in age. Do not concern yourself about the reception of the work, for you are in no wise responsible for its statements. Interested persons, if living, will not care to appear in public in connection therewith, and those who grasp and appreciate, who can see the pertinence of its truths, who can read between the lines and have the key to connected conditions, will assuredly keep their knowledge of these facts locked in their own bosoms, or insidiously oppose them, and by their silence or their attacks cover from men outside the fraternity, their connection with the unfortunate author. They dare not speak.

Revise the sentences; secure the services of an editor if you desire, and induce another to publish the book if you shrink from the responsibility, but in your revision do not in any way alter the meaning of the statements made in the manuscript; have it copied for the printer, and take no part in comments that may arise among men concerning its reception.[15] Those who are best informed regarding certain portions thereof, will seemingly be least interested in the book, and those who realize most fully these truths, will persistently evade the endorsement of them. The scientific enthusiast, like the fraternity to which I belong, if appealed to, will obstruct the mind of the student either by criticism or ridicule, for many of these revelations are not recorded in his books.

[15] From a review of the fac simile (see [p. 35]), it will be seen that an exact print word for word could not be expected. In more than one instance subsequent study demonstrated that the first conception was erroneous, and in the interview with Etidorhpa (see [p. 252]), after the page had been plated, it was discovered that the conveyed meaning was exactly the reverse of the original. Luckily the error was discovered in time to change the verse, and leave the spirit of this fair creature unblemished.—J. U. L.

You are at liberty to give in your own language as a prologue the history of your connection with the author, reserving, however, if you desire to do so, your personality, adding an introduction to the manuscript, and, as interludes, every detail of our several conversations, and of your experience. Introduce such illustrations as the selected artist and yourself think proper in order to illuminate the statements. Do not question the advisability of stating all that you know to have occurred; write the whole truth, for although mankind will not now accept as fact all that you and I have experienced, strange phases of life phenomena are revealing themselves, and humanity will yet surely be led to a higher plane. As men investigate the points of historical interest, and the ultra-scientific phenomena broached in this narrative, the curtain of obscurity will be drawn aside, and evidence of the truths contained in these details will be disclosed. Finally, you must mutilate a page of the manuscript that you may select, and preserve the fragment intact and in secret. Do not print another edition unless you are presented with the words of the part that is missing.[16]

[16] I have excised a portion (see p. 190).—J. U. L.

(Signed.) I—Am—The—Man.

Note by Mr. Drury.—Thus the letter ended. After mature consideration it has been decided to give verbatim most of the letter, and all of the manuscript, and to append, as a prologue, an introduction to the manuscript, detailing exactly the record of my connection therewith, including my arguments with Professors Chickering and Vaughn, whom I consulted concerning the statements made to me directly by its author. I will admit that perhaps the opening chapter in my introduction may be such as to raise in the minds of some persons a question concerning my mental responsibility, for as the principal personage in this drama remarks: "Mankind can not now accept as facts what I have seen." Yet I walk the streets of my native city, a business man of recognized thoughtfulness and sobriety, and I only relate on my own responsibility what has to my knowledge occurred. It has never been intimated that I am mentally irresponsible, or speculative, and even were this the case, the material proof that I hold, and have not mentioned as yet, and may not, concerning my relations with this remarkable being, effectually disproves the idea of mental aberration, or spectral delusion. Besides, many of the statements are of such a nature as to be verified easily, or disproved by any person who may be inclined to repeat the experiments suggested, or visit the localities mentioned. The part of the whole production that will seem the most improbable to the majority of persons, is that to which I can testify from my own knowledge, as related in the first portion and the closing chapter. This approaches necromancy, seemingly, and yet in my opinion, as I now see the matter, such unexplained and recondite occurrences appear unscientific, because of the shortcomings of students of science. Occult phenomena, at some future day, will be proved to be based on ordinary physical conditions to be disclosed by scientific investigations [for "All that is is natural, and science embraces all things">[, but at present they are beyond our perception; yes, beyond our conception.

Whether I have been mesmerized, or have written in a trance, whether I have been the subject of mental aberration, or have faithfully given a life history to the world, whether this book is altogether romance, or carries a vein of prophecy, whether it sets in motion a train of wild speculations, or combines playful arguments, science problems, and metaphysical reasonings, useful as well as entertaining, remains for the reader to determine. So far as I, Llewellyn Drury, am concerned, this is—

THE END.

Had the above communication and the missing fragment of manuscript been withheld (see [page 161]), it is needless to say that this second edition of Etidorhpa would not have appeared.

On behalf of the undersigned, who is being most liberally scolded by friends and acquaintances who can not get a copy of the first edition, and on behalf of these same scolding mortals, the undersigned extends to I-Am-The-Man the collective thanks of those who scold and the scolded.—J. U. L.

This introduction, which in the author's edition was signed by the writer, is here reprinted in order that my views of the book be not misconstrued.—J. U. L.

THE LIFE OF
PROF. DANIEL VAUGHN
BY PROF. RICHARD NELSON

TO WHICH IS ADDED
AN ACCOUNT OF HIS DEATH
BY FATHER EUGENE BRADY, S.J.

PROF. DANIEL VAUGHN.

Story of the Life of Prof. Daniel Vaughn.[17]

BY PROF. RICHARD NELSON.

HIS VALUABLE LIBRARY SHOWING MARKS OF MUCH STUDY.

Twelve Years' Record in the Chair of Chemistry at the Cincinnati College of Medicine.

[17] Reprinted from the Cincinnati Tribune.

[A paper read before the Literary Club by Prof. Richard Nelson.]

Few men, if any, so eminent in science and philosophy have been known to live and die in such obscurity as the subject of this paper. A mathematician whose knowledge has never been fathomed, an original investigator in terrestrial and celestial chemistry, most of whose speculations are now accepted as law; a contributor to the philosophical journals of Europe, whose papers were received with distinguished favor; an astronomer, who, in those papers, ventured to differ with Laplace, and, too, as will be shown, a man skilled in classical scholarship, yet unknown to his nearest neighbors and recognized by only a few in his own city. He lived and died in obscurity and poverty in a city distinguished for its schools of science and art, and the liberality and public spirit of its men of wealth; who, if any, were to blame? One object of this paper is to unravel the mystery.

HIS BIRTHPLACE AND PARENTAGE.

Daniel Vaughn was born in the year 1818 at Glenomara, four miles from Killaloe, County Clare, Ireland. His father's name was John, who had two brothers, Daniel and Patrick. John, like Daniel, was educated for the church, but, being the eldest son, remained on the farm. Daniel became, subsequently, the parish priest of Killaloe, and in 1845 was ordained Bishop.

John Vaughn had three children, Daniel (the subject of this paper), Owen and Margaret, afterward Mrs. Kent. The distance to the nearest school being four Irish miles, John had his sons educated by a tutor till they were prepared to enter a classical academy.

At the age of about sixteen Dan, as he was familiarly called, was placed under the care of his uncle and namesake at Killaloe, where he entered the academy. There the young student pursued the study of Greek, Latin and mathematics, giving some attention to certain branches of physics, for which he evinced peculiar aptitude.

HE EMIGRATES AND FINDS A HOME.

About the year 1840 his uncle, desirous of having the young man enter the church, advanced him a sum of money to defray his expenses at a theological school in Cork, but on seeing the American liners when he reached Queenstown, the temptation to take the voyage to the land of promise was too great for the young adventurer to resist, so he secured a passage to New York. When at school he made wonderful advancement in study, especially in higher mathematics, and felt he ought to go to a country where he could be free to pursue his favorite line of thought and where attainments in science would not be circumscribed, as in the church.

Of his voyage and subsequent wanderings little is known until he reached Kentucky. That he visited many schools and paid his way in part by teaching there is no question. The college of the late Dr. Campbell, in Virginia, was one of the institutions visited, but he felt he must push on to Kentucky. About 1842 he had reached the Blue Grass region, near the home of the late Colonel Stamps, in Bourbon County. The Colonel saw him engaged at work and was quick to observe that the stranger was no common man. Taking him to his house and supplying his wants, the Colonel soon installed him as his guest, and eventually made him instructor of his children. Access to the Colonel's library was a boon to the stranger, developing in him traits of genius of which his host was very proud.

It was only a short time till the neighboring farmers heard of the distinguished young scholar, and desired to have the more mature members of their families under his care. A school was opened in the Colonel's house for instruction in the higher mathematics, the classics, geology, physical geography and astronomy. The young people were pleased with their teacher and made commendable progress, but the curriculum was too varied and comprehensive for an instructor, who, though far advanced in scholarship, had not yet studied the art of teaching.

ACCEPTS A PROFESSORSHIP.

In 1845 he accepted the chair of Greek in a neighboring college, which afforded him leisure for his scientific pursuits. After an absence of seven years the Professor returned to his old friend, Colonel Stamps and family, where he remained some two years, leaving them to settle in Cincinnati.

During his stay at the Colonel's (1851) he became a member of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, and in 1852 contributed to it his first article, entitled "On the Motions of Numerous Small Bodies and the Phenomena Resulting Therefrom." Having accumulated a valuable collection of books on science and philosophy and obtained access to several libraries, public and private, in the city, he was now in a condition to devote most of his time and energies to his favorite sciences. For subsistence he delivered lectures before teachers' institutes and colleges till 1856, when an affection of the lungs compelled him to abandon the lecture field.

In the meantime he had offered papers for publication to Silliman's Journal, the principal scientific magazine of America at that time, but, receiving no response to his communications and being denied publication, he took the advice of a friend and sent his subsequent articles to the British Association for the Advancement of Science and to the Philosophic Magazine, where they were received with favor. He was much gratified to find his article on "Meteoric Astronomy" published in the report of the Liverpool meeting of the association in 1854. Six papers, which he subsequently sent in 1857, 1859 and 1861, met with similar favor.

For several years he visited schools, colleges and teachers' institutes in Oxford, Lebanon, Cleveland and other cities, lecturing on his favorite branches of science. It had been his intention to popularize the science of physical astronomy by the publication of tracts or pamphlets.

PUBLISHES PAMPHLETS.

In the year 1856, at the request of teachers before whom he had lectured at the institutes, and with a view to popularize scientific knowledge, the Professor commenced the publication of pamphlets. The first number treated of "The Geological Agency of Water and Subterranean Forces." Only two of these pamphlets came into the possession of the administrator. One of them was a good-sized volume, as may be inferred from the following articles it contained:

Some of these subjects had been treated of at greater length and published by American and British associations for the advancement of science.

He sent to the British Association for the Advancement of Science:

Other papers appeared:

The Professor contributed to other publications on both sides of the Atlantic, but as he failed to retain copies of the articles or of the magazines in which they were published, doubtless many papers of interest are among the number.

The year 1860 found the Professor possessed of a valuable collection of books, the accumulation of ten or fifteen years, all showing the marks of wear, some of them besmeared with the drippings from his candle. Among them were works of some of the most prominent authors in branches of theoretical and practical science. Those of Laplace, Kepler, Tycho-Brahe, Leibnitz, Herschel, Newton and others, together with many pamphlets and periodicals, composed his library. He possessed a familiar knowledge of the German, French, Italian and Spanish languages, and of ancient Greek and Latin. Many of his papers appeared in the continental languages. It may be here stated that for the eminent astronomer, Laplace, as a scientist and writer, Prof. Vaughn entertained great respect, though he could not accept his nebular hypothesis, because important parts of it would not bear mathematical investigation. [The proof is in the papers in my possession.—N.] In an article of the Professor to the Popular Science Monthly (February, 1879) is a case of the kind, showing that the distinguished astronomer ignored his own famous theory. The article reads: "In endeavoring to account for the direct motion in secondary systems Laplace contends that, in consequence of friction the supposed primitive solar rings would have a greater velocity in their outer than in their inner zones. Now, if friction is to counteract to such an extent the normal effects of gravitation, it must be an eternal bar against the origin of worlds by nebulous dismemberment, and if the ring of attenuated matter were placed under the circumstances suggested by the eminent astronomer, it would be ultimately doomed, not to form a planet, but to coalesce with the immense spheroid of fiery vapor it was supposed to have environed."

It is interesting to know that the theory of our Professor was the correct one, as proved by a recent discovery of Prof. James E. Keeler, astronomer of the Allegheny Observatory. As announced in a daily paper: "Prof. James E. Keeler, of the Allegheny Observatory, has made a wonderful discovery. It is a scientific and positive demonstration of the fact that the rings of Saturn are made up of many small bodies and that the satellites of the inner edge of the rings move faster than the outer."

As to satellites, Prof. Vaughn, in the paper quoted, page 466, states: "The matter spread over the wide annular fields is ever urged by its own attraction to collect together and form satellites, which are ever destroyed by attractive disturbance of the primary, and have their parts scattered once more over a wide space."

INSTALLED AS PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY.

The Professor was elected to the chair of chemistry in the Cincinnati College of Medicine and Surgery in 1860, where he served with distinction for twelve years. His scholarly valedictory at that institution is one of the papers reserved for publication in his memoirs.

While in the college he continued his investigations in science, applying his knowledge of terrestrial chemistry to the chemistry of the heavens, as shown in nearly all his writings. Besides the position held in the college, he gave lessons in schools and seminaries in geology, astronomy, chemistry, Latin and Greek.

In 1873 he visited Lexington, where he met his old friend, Dr. J. C. Darby, and delivered lectures in public, at the Sayre Institute and the Baptist School, returning to Cincinnati the following spring. Except from his writings, he seemed to have no source of revenue for several years. How he managed to exist his most intimate friends could only conjecture. True, he contributed papers to monthly publications, but they appeared at such long intervals they could not be relied on for support, so, in the autumn of 1878 his friends organized for him a course of lectures, which were well patronized by physicians and others versed in science. In the meantime, negotiations were opened with prominent citizens of suburban towns for other lectures, and efforts were made to retire the Professor on an annuity.

HIS END DRAWING NEAR.

Enfeebled health, which confined him to his room for several weeks, prevented him from entering on the suburban course, so a second course was projected for the city and one of the lectures delivered. From what transpired after that lecture his friends were again anxious regarding his health, and, as the time approached for the delivery of the second, determined to see him. For reasons stated elsewhere it was with some difficulty he was found. Prostrated on a couch, he was suffering from a hemorrhage of the lungs of a few days previous, with evidences all around of a state of extreme destitution. No time was lost in having him removed to comfortable quarters in the Good Samaritan Hospital, where his friends arranged for his care as a private patient. Next day, April 3, he expressed himself as greatly benefited by the change and talked cheerfully and hopefully of the future. Next day, Friday, he continued to improve, but on Saturday proof of his forthcoming article in the Popular Science Monthly reached him, and, feeling that he ought to return it promptly, he sat up to do the work. The effort was too great. Overcome with exhaustion after its completion, he sank to sleep and a little after two o'clock next morning, April 6, his weary spirit peacefully took its flight. Born in 1818, the Professor was then in the sixty-first year of his age.

HIS OBSEQUIES.

A committee of the more intimate friends of the deceased was formed, consisting of the late Jacob Traber, his nephew, J. C. Sproull, Drs. J. J. and William Taft and the writer.

Funeral services were held in the chapel of the Hospital, where, considering the suddenness of the Professor's demise, many mourners were present. The interest evinced was profound, while the floral tributes that covered the casket were eloquent of affection and esteem.

The remains were interred in a burial lot of Jacob Traber, who generously tendered its use until a separate place of interment and a monument could be procured. The remains of the two friends now lie side by side.

HIS EFFECTS.

After the funeral the committee referred to visited the room occupied by the Professor prior to his decease, and had the writer, as his nearest friend, procure letters of administration, so that papers of value, if any, would be cared for. A few letters, some private relics, unsalable remnants of books and pamphlets and scraps of manuscript constituted the effects. The scarcity of manuscript was easily accounted, for, as it was the habit of the deceased for years to print articles designed for publication and have them mailed to magazines and to savants in different parts of Europe and America.

CHARACTERISTICS AND HABITS OF STUDY.

A prominent characteristic of Prof. Vaughn was shyness—a shrinking from familiarity or conspicuousness. He never was the first to salute a casual acquaintance on the street, and when introduced to a stranger would extend his hand with apparent diffidence or reserve—not with the warmth of a hearty shake, but rather with a cautious presentation of the finger tips. Undemonstrative in manner, and inexperienced in the customs of social life, his diffidence was taken for coldness, yet he was kind and tender hearted almost to a fault, and a most grateful recipient of a favor. In his poverty he would part with money or personal property to people whom he considered more necessitous than himself. Of the proceeds of his last course of lectures he gave to one such a sum so large as to almost discourage his friends from helping him.

Then, too, he was glad to render service to professional and public men. He made translations for writers and wrote lectures for others and made chemical analyses for the city when payment was not expected. As to his placing a commercial value upon his services he never learned to do it, though they often cost him both time and money that he could not well spare.

His waking hours were always fully occupied in writing or study, either in his laboratory, the libraries or in open-air observations. He was thoroughly familiar with the geology of the neighborhood and the physical geography of the entire continent, as may be seen by his articles on "Volcanoes," "The Origin of Lakes and Mountains," "The Absence of Trees on Prairies," "Malaria," etc. His ingenuity in the construction of apparatus for his illustrations in chemistry was remarkable. Given a few tubes of glass and rubber, a piece of tin, some acid and alkali, a blow-pipe, soldering iron and a pair of pinchers, he could construct at will enough apparatus for a lesson, a lecture or an analysis.

Considering his poverty, it may be questioned how he was able to maintain a laboratory. For twelve years he found a room at the Medical College. At other times he extemporized quarters at his humble lodgings, where the same apartment was to him laboratory, study and living room. Such a room he could not find in a private house, so he sought it elsewhere, as in the tenement in which he was found in his last illness. That life necessarily isolated him from society, its pleasures and advantages before he became familiar with the laws by which it was governed.

Having acquired a mastery of Greek and Latin in his youth, he had a good preparation for the acquisition of the modern languages; besides, to prosecute his studies and investigations, he found it necessary to understand most of the languages of Europe.

Exception has been taken to the Professor's manner as a lecturer. When we consider his natural diffidence in the presence of strangers we are surprised that he attempted to lecture at all. Take his case when he last lectured,—his lecture hall, the operating room of the Dental College, and his platform that of the operator with his audience around but elevated a few feet above him. The position was an exceedingly trying one, and some time elapsed before he was able to make a good start. While hesitating, on such occasions, his eyes would wander around the audience till they rested on those of a familiar friend. Immediately he addressed himself to that person, and confidence was restored. Like other public speakers we know of, he continued to address himself chiefly to the one selected, however embarrassing it might be to that individual.

HIS RELIGIOUS LIFE.

The Professor was a Bible student, if we judge from fragments found among his effects and a well-worn Bible, now a relic in possession of a former student. The book is a curiosity, worn as is the cover with marks of his fingers as he held it, often with a candle in his hand, as shown by occasional drippings on the page and cover.

He was not a member of any church. At least, had not been up to a month before his decease, though he visited churches of all denominations and was familiar with their doctrines and polity. His religion consisted in his living up to his highest ideas of right and truth; hence he was charitable almost to a fault. When he had not money to give, he parted with his books.

An eloquent public speaker, referring to his private life, has said: "He was social, kind and humane. He took pleasure in instructing the children and communing with friends—good men and women, who loved and admired him—and his humanity was gratified in bestowing what he valued most—knowledge. To him nothing seemed more precious than truth, and to shed the light of it abroad. His heart was in his work, and without a glance to the right or left, he pursued his arduous quest."

Of the works of creation which occupied so much of his thoughts, the Professor's views may be had by reading the following concluding remarks found in his "Physical Astronomy:"

"Whatever doubts may hang over all speculations respecting distant events, either of past or future time, we have reason to believe that our universe will ever exhibit great and useful operations throughout its extensive domains. From the ruins of some celestial bodies others will rise to act a part in the drama of the physical creation in future ages. Though nature's work may all decay, her laws remain the same, and numerous agencies, obedient to their control and aided by occasional interventions of creative power, must maintain the heavens forever in a harmonious condition and transform innumerable spheres into seats of light and intelligence. While the laws of nature have been thus widely ordained for such great ends, their simplicity renders them intelligible to the limited powers of the human mind, and the immense universe thus becomes a vast field of intellectual enjoyment for man."

TESTIMONY OF THE LATE DR. JOHN HANCOCK.

The late Dr. Hancock, in writing to Mrs. J. W. McLaughlin, stated that he attended institute lectures of Prof. Vaughn, making his acquaintance at a meeting of the Southwestern Ohio Normal Institute. The Professor was engaged to lecture on his favorite specialties, physical geography and astronomy. "It is my recollection," says the doctor, "that Prof. Vaughn was a graduate of Trinity Collage, Dublin. However that may be, there can be no doubt as to his wide and profound scholarship. He was not only deeply versed in the physical sciences, but was equally proficient in the classics and mathematics. It is said by competent judges that he read Greek and Latin as he would English, as though he thought in those languages, and he was one of the few Americans who read through Laplace's 'Mechanique Celeste.' He had a prodigious memory. At the Oxford Institute, to which I have referred, some dozen of the leading members, Prof. Vaughn among them, got up some literary games requiring wide reading and retentive memories for successful rivalry. In these games the Professor showed a wealth of reading and an ability to use it on the instant that I have never seen approached by any other scholar. It is needless to say that he was first in the game and the rest nowhere.

"Some ten years afterward, when connected with Nelson's Commercial College, I edited a little educational paper, the News and Educator, of which Mr. Nelson was proprietor. In this relation I came much more frequently in contact with Prof. Vaughn than I ever did before. To this paper he contributed a number of articles on scientific subjects, but, being printed in an obscure local paper, they attracted little attention."

REMINISCENCES OF MRS. STAMPS.

Mrs. Eliza Stamps, widow of the late Colonel Stamps, in giving her experience with the Professor, said: "He was a very industrious student, in his profound researches pursuing them to the exclusion of every thing else. He would frequently forget the demands of hunger and disregard the summons to his meals. As to his engaging in innocent amusements, he considered it a sacrifice of valuable time; yet, lest he should be accused of selfishness or wanting in social etiquette, he sometimes left his books to unite with the children in their games, and, diffident though he was, would occasionally take part in the dance.

"He enjoyed the Colonel's library, but soon exhausted its resources and those of the neighbors; so, to obtain a supply, he would go on foot to Cincinnati, one hundred miles distant, and return in the same manner, loaded with new books."

Throughout his after life he gave evidence of his great respect and affection for Colonel Stamps, his benefactor, and his family, and the young ladies and gentlemen who had been his pupils, who never ceased to venerate him for his learning, or to love and cherish his memory. Some such were among the mourners at his funeral.

REPUTATION IN ENGLAND.

The late Jacob Traber, one of the most intimate friends of the Professor, has written: "In the year 1858 I was in the office of John Sayre, bookseller, High Holborn, where I made the purchase of books that were yet in the hands of the printer. I gave my address and directions for shipping. When in the act of leaving the office I was accosted by an elderly gentleman who, with the apology, 'Beg pardon, I overheard you when you gave your address, Cincinnati, and desire to make inquiry about one of your distinguished citizens, Daniel Vaughn. Assuming that you know him, may I ask how long it is since you have seen him?' I replied that I had known the Professor some four years, and had met him but a few months ago. At that time I regarded the Professor as a mechanical genius of the speculative type, and so expressed myself. A quick rejoinder came in that broad and forcible accent of an Englishman: 'If you Cincinnati people vote Vaughn as a speculative mechanic, the ripest and profoundest mathematical scholar in England may be marked as his apprentice. You have a treasure in that man. Why, sir, we send him problems that fail to be mastered here, and speedily have them back not only with a solution, but with the demonstration.' The speaker proved to be one of the ablest scholars and scientists in Europe."

FIXING THE RESPONSIBILITY FOR HIS CONDITION.

The subject of this paper, it will be inferred, did not inherit a patrimony, yet he contributed his valuable services to many worthy objects without pecuniary compensation. As has been stated, his great pleasure, next to the investigation of truth, was to impart useful knowledge and help the needy. When in the medical college he was paid with shares of stock on which a dividend was never declared, and when engaged in lecturing and teaching his diffidence prevented him from placing a sufficient value on his services. Living the life of a recluse, he concealed his poverty from his nearest friends, who were ignorant even of his address. Then, he never sought a gratuity, and his friends could only learn by conjecture when he was in need. When asked if his privations did not cause him much anxiety, he said they gave him no concern.

On more than one occasion the writer, at the request of men of wealth and influence, proposed to retire him on an annuity, but he modestly but firmly declined to accept, and it was not until after the announcement of his last course that he consented. Then the proposition was to pay his expenses at a hotel of his choice and advance him money for his personal expenses, for which he was to lecture when and where he might choose. The gentlemen most active in this project were the following, now deceased: Henry Peachy, William F. Corry, Jacob Traber, Colonel Geoffrey and others. Favorably known to the public were Drs. J. J. and William Taft, Dr. Thad Reamy, J. C. Sproull, etc.

The project had so far matured that the writer and another had arranged with Mr. Peachy to make the Lafayette National Bank the custodian of the funds. Had the Professor survived, he would have enjoyed a life of leisure and comfort, at one of the most prominent hotels in the city.

The people of Cincinnati were, therefore, not responsible for the poverty of our friend, nor for the state of destitution in which he was found prior to his removal to the hospital.

ACCOUNT OF THE DEATH OF PROF. VAUGHN, BY REV.
EUGENE BRADY, S.J.

[Concerning the last days of Professor Vaughn, the following from the pen of Father Brady, pastor of St. Xavier's Church, is of special interest. This is peculiarly appropriate by reason of the fact that Father Brady, while a boy, attended the college during the time Professor Vaughn taught in Bardstown, Kentucky, and finally comforted him in his last moments.—J. U. L.]

"My Dear Mr. Lloyd:—

"Concerning the foot-note on [page 160] of Etidorhpa. The description of Daniel Vaughn is correct. The story of his privations is quite true. He was so absorbed in science as to be self-neglectful. Moreover, he was grossly neglected by those who made use of his labors.

"A servant girl told the venerable Sister Anthony that a poor lodger was dying in destitution in the west end of the city. The lodger was Professor Vaughn. The Sister had the good man conveyed to the Good Samaritan Hospital on April 1, 1879. She made him comfortable, as he repeatedly declared. He died on April 6, 1879. Thoroughly conscious up to the last moment, it was at his request that the undersigned had the melancholy pleasure of administering to him the last rites of the Catholic Church. It was neither delirium nor senility that revived his faith. He was but sixty-one years of age, and as rational as ever in life."

—Eugene Brady, S.J.