by Arthur Conan Doyle (Author)

This is an account of the wanderings of a spiritualist, geographical and speculative. Should the reader have no interest in psychic things-if indeed any human being can be so foolish as not to be interested in his own nature and fate, -then this is the place to put the book down. It were better also to end the matter now if you have no patience with a go-as-you-please style of narrative, which founds itself upon the conviction that thought may be as interesting as action, and which is bound by its very nature to be intensely personal. I write a record of what absorbs my mind which may be very different from that which appeals to yours

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