of the executive, at the opposite side to that by which I had entered. We were now quite in the country, and the Recorder pointed to a mountain at a considerable distance off, and said,—"That is the Society of Arts which I referred to." I replied, "That is not hard by." "Oh yes, it is. It will not take us long to get there; give me your arm." The minute he touched my arm, even through the clothing, that curious thrill, which I previously had experienced, shot through me. It was just as pleasant as before, but not so gruesome. I asked him what it meant. "That is," he said, "a power that we of this generation possess. It is the power of storing energy, and the power of transmitting that energy to others. The greater the intellectual power of the individual is, the greater his power of storage and of transmission. It is, in fact, a measure of intellect; but we must be moving." I now saw him casting a lot of gravel out of a pocket in his kilt; and he remarked, "This is 'lightening' for the journey." I said, "Why
