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s a metaphysical something permanent as the foundation of constant change。' Though not here alluding to the ghost theory； this bears indirectly on the conception； as I shall proceed to show。
We need not entangle ourselves in the vexed question of innate ideas； nor inquire whether the principle of casuality is； as Kant supposed； like space and time； a form of intuition given A PRIORI。 That every change has a cause must necessarily （without being thus formulated） be one of the initial beliefs of conscious beings far lower in the scale than man； whether derived solely from experience or otherwise。 The reed that shakes is obviously shaken by the wind。 But the riddle of the wind also forces itself into notice； and man explains this by transferring to the wind 'the sense of his own nature。' Thunderstorms； volcanic disturbances； ocean waves； running streams； the motions of the heavenly bodies； had to be accounted for as involving change。 And the natural … the primitive … explanation was by reference to life； analogous； if not similar； to our own。 Here then； it seems to me； we have the true origin of the belief in ghosts。
Take an illustration which supports this view。 While sitting in my garden the other day a puff of wind blew a lady's parasol across the lawn。 It rolled away close to a dog lying quietly in the sun。 The dog looked at it for a moment； but seeing nothing to account for its movements； barked nervously； put its tail between its legs； and ran away； turning occasionally to watch and again bark； with every sign of fear。
This was animism。 The dog must have accounted for the eccentric behaviour of the parasol by endowing it with an uncanny spirit。 The horse that shies at inanimate objects by the roadside； and will sometimes dash itself against a tree or a wall； is actuated by a similar superstition。 Is there any essential difference between this belief of the dog or horse and the belief of primitive man？ I maintain that an intuitive animistic tendency （which Mr。 Spencer repudiates）； and not dreams； lies at the root of all spiritualism。 Would Mr。 Spencer have had us believe that the dog's fear of the rolling parasol was a logical deduction from its canine dreams？ This would scarcely elucidate the problem。 The dog and the horse share apparently Schopenhauer's metaphysical propensity with man。
The familiar aphorism of Statius： PRIMUS IN ORBE DEOS FECIT TIMOR； points to the relation of animism first to the belief in ghosts； thence to Polytheism； and ultimately to Monotheism。 I must apologise to those of the transcendental school who； like Max Muller for instance （Introduction to the 'Science of Religion'）； hold that we have 'a primitive intuition of God'； which； after all； the professor derives； like many others； from the 'yearning for something that neither sense nor reason can supply'； and from the assumption that 'there was in the heart of man from the very first a feeling of incompleteness； of weakness； of dependency； &c。' All this； I take it； is due to the aspirations of a much later creature than the 'Pithecanthropus erectus；' to whom we here refer。
Probably spirits and ghosts were originally of an evil kind。 Sir John Lubbock （'The Origin of Civilisation'） says： 'The baying of the dog to the moon is as much an act of worship as some ceremonies which have been so described by travellers。' I think he would admit that fear is the origin of the worship。 In his essay on 'Superstition；' Hume writes： 'Weakness； fear； melancholy； together with ignorance； are the true sources of superstition。' Also 'in such a state of mind； infinite unknown evils are dreaded from unknown agents。'
Man's impotence to resist the forces of nature； and their terrible ability to injure him； would inspire a sense of terror； which in turn would give rise to the twofold notion of omnipotence and malignity。 The savage of the present day lives in perpetual fear of evil spirits； and the superstitious dread； which I and most others have suffered； is inherited from our savage ancestry。 How much further back we must seek it may be left to the sage philosophers of the future。
CHAPTER VII
THE next winter we lay for a couple of months off Chinhai； which we had stormed； blockading the mouth of the Ningpo river。 Here； I regret to think； I committed an act which has often haunted my conscience as a crime； although I had frequently promised the captain of a gun a glass of grog to let me have a shot； and was mightily pleased if death and destruction rewarded my aim。
Off Chinhai； lorchers and fast sailing junks laden with merchandise would try to run the blockade before daylight。 And it sometimes happened that we youngsters had a long chase in a cutter to overhaul them。 This meant getting back to a nine or ten o'clock breakfast at the end of the morning's watch； equivalent to five or six hours' duty on an empty stomach。
One cold morning I had a hard job to stop a small junk。 The men were sweating at their oars like galley slaves； and muttering curses at the apparent futility of their labour。 I had fired a couple of shots from a 'brown Bess' … the musket of the day … through the fugitive's sails； and fearing punishment if I let her escape； I next aimed at the boat herself。 Down came the mainsail in a crack。 When I boarded our capture； I found I had put a bullet through the thigh of the man at the tiller。 Boys are not much troubled with scruples about bloodguiltiness； and not unfrequently are very cruel； for cruelty as a rule （with exceptions） mostly proceeds from thoughtlessness。 But when I realised what I had done； and heard the wretched man groan； I was seized with remorse for what； at a more hardened stage； I should have excused on the score of duty。
It was during this blockade that the accident； which I have already alluded to； befell my dear protector； Jack Johnson。
One night； during his and my middle watch； the forecastle sentries hailed a large sampan； like a Thames barge； drifting down stream and threatening to foul us。 Sir Frederick Nicholson； the officer of the watch； ordered Johnson to take the cutter and tow her clear。
I begged leave to go with him。 Sir Frederick refused； for he at once suspected mischief。 The sampan was reached and diverted just before she swung athwart our bows。 But scarcely was this achieved； when an explosion took place。 My friend was knocked over； and one or two of the men fell back into the cutter。 This is what had happened： Johnson finding no one in the sampan； cautiously raised one of the deck hatches with a boat…hook before he left the cutter。 The mine （for such it proved） was so arranged that examination of this kind drew a lighted match on to the magazine； which instantly exploded。
Poor Jack！ what was my horror when we got him on board！ Every trace of his handsome features was gone。 He was alive； and that seemed to be all。 In a few minutes his head and face swelled so that all was a round black charred ball。 One could hardly see where the eyes were； buried beneath the powder…ingrained and incrusted flesh。
For weeks； at night；