'Oh! that was nonsense. The spirits never lent themselves to mere frivolity.' 'I beg the spirits' pardon, I am sure,' said I. 'I have heard that they often move heavy tables. I thought perhaps the pencil would save them trouble. Will they move this round table up to this little one?' I had, be it observed, when alone, moved and changed the relative positions of both tables; and had determined to make this my crucial test. To my astonishment, Mrs. - replied that she could not say whether they would or not. She would ask them.
She did so, and the spirits rapped 'Yes.'
I drew my chair aside. The woman remained seated in the corner. I watched everything. Nothing happened. After a while, I took out my watch, and said: 'I fear the spirits do not intend to keep their word. I have an appointment twenty minutes hence, and can only give them ten minutes more.' She calmly replied she had nothing to do with it. I had heard what the spirits said. I had better wait a little longer.
Scarcely were the words out of her mouth, when the table gave a distinct crack, as if about to start. The medium instantly called my attention to it. I jumped out of my seat, passed between the two tables, when of a sudden the large table moved in the direction of the smaller one, and did not stop till it had pushed the little one over. I make no comments.
No explanation to me is conceivable. I simply narrate what happened as accurately as I am able.
One other case deserves to be added to the above. I have connected both of the foregoing with religious persuasions.
The SEANCE I am about to speak of was for the express purpose of bringing a brokenhearted and widowed mother into communication with the soul of her only son - a young artist of genius whom I had known, and who had died about a year before. The occasion was, of course, a solemn one. The interest of it was enhanced by the presence of the great apostle of Spiritualism - Sir William Crookes. The medium was Miss Kate Fox, again an American. The SEANCE took place in the house of a very old friend of mine, the late Dr.
George Bird. He had spiritualistic tendencies, but was supremely honest and single-minded; utterly incapable of connivance with deception of any kind. As far as I know, the medium had never been in the room before. The company present were Dr. Bird's intimate friend Sir William Crookes - future President of the Royal Society - Miss Bird, Dr. Bird's daughter, and her husband - Mr. Ionides - and Mrs. -, the mother of the young artist. The room, a large one, was darkened; the last light being extinguished after we had taken our places round the dining-table. We were strenuously enjoined to hold one another's hands. Unless we did so the SEANCE would fail.
Before entering the room, I secretly arranged with Mr. Ionides, who shared my scepticism, that we should sit side by side; and so each have one hand free. It is not necessary to relate what passed between the unhappy mother and the medium, suffice it to say that she put questions to her son; and the medium interpreted the rappings which came in reply. These, I believe, were all the poor lady could wish for. To the rest of us, the astounding events of the SEANCE were the dim lights, accompanied by faint sounds of an accordion, which floated about the room over our heads. And now comes, to me, the strangest part of the whole performance. All the while I kept my right arm extended under the table, moving my hand to and fro. Presently it touched something. I make a grab, and caught, but could not hold for an instant, another hand. It was on the side away from Mr. Ionides. I said nothing, except to him, and the SEANCE was immediately broken up.
It may be thought by some that this narration is a biassed one. But those acquainted with the charlatanry in these days of what is called 'Christian Science,' and know the extent to which crass ignorance and predisposed credulity can be duped by childish delusions, may have some 'idea how acute was the spirit-rapping epidemic some forty or fifty years ago. 'At this moment,' writes Froude, in 'Fraser's Magazine,' 1863, 'we are beset with reports of conversations with spirits, of tables miraculously lifted, of hands projecting out of the world of shadows into this mortal life. An unusually able, accomplished person, accustomed to deal with common-sense facts, a celebrated political economist, and notorious for business-like habits, assured this writer that a certain mesmerist, who was my informer's intimate friend, had raised a dead girl to life.' Can we wonder that miracles are still believed in? Ah! no. The need, the dire need, of them remains, and will remain with us for ever.
