This startling hypothesis I took and worked upon. Forsaking the common theory, I resolved to see if I could not by some means discover the brain-ether, which I was morally certain existed _somewhere_, and which I quite believed was as likely, or more likely, to be found in its ordinary resting-place--the cranium--as elsewhere. A recently deceased body or head was of no service to me to experimentalize upon, as the spirit or essential ether would not have become free till the disintegration of the pulpy matter of the brain was complete. What I wanted was a skeleton, or even a skull, which had neither been opened nor tampered with; and having no medical friends I was at a loss to know how I could supply my want, when a lucky accident gave me just what I required. One day I was walking through Gower Street, London, when whom should I run against but my old friend Stairs. Stairs is an Egyptologist, great at reading hieroglyphics and cuneiform writing. Not having seen each other for two years, we naturally strolled into the Horseshoe Hotel to finish our chat in comfort, and to lubricate our throats, which have a wonderful knack of becoming dry when their owners meet old friends. Stairs had been away for fifteen months in Egypt searching for any curious things having a commercial value in England. During his wanderings in the country of the Pharaohs, he had purchased a large number of curios, stones, amulets, rings, sarcophagi, and mummies, which he was now endeavouring to dispose of to the trustees of the British Museum. After I had heard many of his adventures, it became his turn to inquire how I was employing myself, and this finally led to my explaining to Stairs all about my theory of the soul. Of course, being ignorant of the matter, he simply laughed, and suggested that I had better have one of his mummies to experiment upon! Why not? Just the very thing; what could be better than an ancient, unrolled mummy, some three thousand years old? I was positively delighted; and in furtherance of my fancy he handed me his card, on the understanding that I was to proceed to his house, and make a selection of any mummy I thought would suit my purpose, take it home with me for a month to experiment upon, and at the end of that time return it to him. That very evening I went to my friend’s house in Gordon Square with a small covered van, and brought my precious Egyptian away, thankful to old Stairs for his kindly consideration. Stairs was off to Italy for a month, and I had his permission to do what I liked with the mummy, so long as I did not spoil its commercial value. When the defunct Egyptian was safely deposited in my study I could have hugged him for very joy, but refrained from the embrace as he smelt a trifle musty.