A well known case, is that of Col. Townshend, who possessed the remarkable faculty of stopping at will not only his respiration, but also the beating of his heart. He performed the experiment one day in the presence of Surgeon Gosch, who cared for him in his old age, two physicians, and his apothecary, Mr. Shrine. In their presence, says Gosch, the Colonel lay upon his back, Dr. Cheyne watched his pulse, Dr. Baynard put his hand upon his heart, and Mr. Shrine held a mirror to his mouth. After a few seconds no pulse, movement of the heart, or respiration could be observed. At the end of half an hour, as the spectators were beginning to get frightened, they observed the functions progressively resuming their course, and the Colonel came back to life. The fakirs of India habituate themselves to abstinence from air, either by introducing into the nostrils strings that come out through the mouth, or by dwelling in subterranean cells that air and light never enter except through narrow crevices that are sometimes filled with clay. Here they remain seated in profound silence, for hours at a time, without any other motion than that of the fingers as the latter slowly take beads from a chaplet, the mind absorbed by the mental pronunciation of OM (the holy triune name), which they must repeat incessantly while endeavoring to breathe as little as possible. They gradually lengthen the intervals between their inspirations and expirations, until, in three or four months, they succeed in making them an hour and a half. This is not the ideal, for one of their sacred books says, in speaking of a saint: "At the fourth month he no longer takes any food but air, and that only every twelve days, and, master of his respiration he embraces God in his thought. At the fifth he stands as still as a pole; he no longer sees anything but Baghavat, and God touches his cheek to bring him out of his ecstasy." It will be conceived that by submitting themselves to such gymnastics from infancy, certain men, already predisposed by atavism or a peculiar conformation, might succeed in doing things that would seem impossible to the common run of mortals. Do we not daily see acrobats remaining head downward for a length of time that would suffice to kill 99 per cent, of their spectators through congestion if they were to place themselves in the same posture? Can the savage who laboriously learns to spell, letter by letter, comprehend how many people get the general sense of an entire page at a single glance? There is no reason, then, _a priori_, for assigning to the domain of legerdemain the astonishing facts that are told us by a large number of witnesses, worthy of credence, regarding a young fakir who, forty years ago, was accustomed to allow himself to be buried, and resuscitated several months afterward. An English officer, Mr. Osborne, gives the following account of one of these operations, which took place in 1838 at the camp of King Randjet Singh: