The examples of savage spiritualism which have been adduced might probably receive many additions; those are but gleanings from a large field carelessly harvested.  The phenomena have been but casually studied; the civilised mind is apt to see, in savage seances, nothing but noisy buffoonery.  We have shown that there is a more serious belief involved, and we have adduced cases in which white men were not unconscious of the barbarian spell.  It also appears that the now recognised phenomena of hypnotism are the basis of the more serious savage magic.  The production of hypnotic trances, perhaps of hypnotic hallucinations, is a piece of knowledge which savages possessed (as they were acquainted with quinine), while European physicians and philosophers ignored or laughed at it.  Tobacco and quinine were more acceptable gifts from the barbarian.  His magic has now and then been examined by a competent anthropologist, like Mr. Im Thurn, and Castren closely observed the proceedings of the bound and bounding Shamans among the Samoyeds.  But we need the evidence both of anthropologists and of adepts in conjuring.  They might detect some of the tricks, though Mr. Kellar, a professional conjurer and exposer of spiritualistic imposture, has been fairly baffled (he says) by Zulus and Hindus, while educated Americans are puzzled by the Pawnees.  Mr. Kellar’s plan of displaying a few of his own tricks was excellent:  the dusky professionals were stimulated to show theirs, which, as described, were miracles.  The Pakeha Maori, already quoted, saw a Maori Tohunga perform ‘a very good miracle as times go,’ but he does not give any particulars.  The late Mr. Davey, who started as a Spiritualist catechumen, managed, by conjuring, to produce answers to questions on a locked slate, which is as near a miracle as anything.  But Mr. Davey is dead, though we know his secret, while it is improbable that Mr. Maskelyne will enrich his repertoire by travelling among Zulus, Hindus, and Pawnees.  As savages cease to be savages, our opportunities of learning their mystic lore must decrease.

To one point in this research the notice of students in folklore may be specially directed.  In the attempt to account for the diffusion of popular tales, such as Cinderella, we are told to observe that the countries most closely adjacent to each other have the most closely similar variants of the story.  This is true, as a rule, but it is also true that, while Scandinavian regions have a form of Cinderella with certain peculiarities not shared by Southern Europe, those crop up sporadically, far away, among Kaffirs and the Indian ‘aboriginal’ tribe of Santhals.  The same phenomenon of diffusion occurs when we find savage mediums tied up in their trances, all over the North, among Canadian Hareskins, among Samoyed and Eskimo, while the practice ceases at a given point in Labrador, and gives place to Medicine Lodges.  The binding then reappears if not in Australia, certainly in the ancient Greek ceremonial.  The writer is not acquainted with ‘the bound and bounding young man’ in the intervening regions and it would be very interesting to find connecting cases, stepping-stones, as it were, by which the rite passed from the Levant to the frozen North.