Chapter MC: Ginnis.a (1)

[Footnote A: McGinnis was a murderer recently hung for the brutal killing of his mother-in-law. Particulars of the murder, execution and autopsy were in all the local papers.]

(In an ordinary feminine hand.)

Put a piece of paper on a stand place a pencil on it and I will try to make the scale for you at home there is a power that is growing on you that will enable me to do this in a few times of trying I could write my own hand this is my first time of coming here so that makes it harder for me to get control

B

(This doggerel came in answer to a question whether the Spirits could write poetry, and is in a hand not dissimilar to the preceding communication, although the signatures differ.)

When the clear bright sun was shining
Then they took my cherished form
And they bore it to the church yard
To consign it to the worm

Well no matter that was only
The clay dress your loved one wore
God had robed her for an angel
She had need of this no more

Though the tears fell fast and faster
Yet you would not call me back
Nay be glad her feet no longer
Tread life's rough and thorny track

Yes be glad the father took her
Took her whilst her heart was pure
Oh be glad he did not leave her
All life's trials to endure

AC

(In a sprawling hand.)

Your friend has lost the Control I cannot say wether it will be possible to regain it now or no I find it hard work to get any hold at all.

AM

(Each letter distinct, as a child would print the alphabet.)

Chief there cant come any answer the magnetic current is broken for want of power we go now but will come in your own wigwam

HOWONDO

* * * * *

At the following séances I received slate writings repeatedly. Sometimes the slate would scarcely be in the Medium's hands before a message appeared, each time with the little pencil on top. I was told that I was an excellent Medium, that, if I cultivated the faculty, would soon myself be able to obtain these slate writings. I was also asked to prepare a slate secured in any way I wished, and had the promise that a message would be written within it. I acceded to the request and took a slate of my own, tied it up in every direction with twine, and put my private seal upon it in several places where I had knotted the string. This slate the Spirits could not overcome. I never received the promised message. I never even had the slate returned to me. After remaining in the Medium's possession for several months, she having changed her residence in the meantime, she told me the slate had disappeared and somehow must have gotten lost in moving. At any rate the slate had been spirited away somehow. I will here mention that at about the third or fourth sitting I asked permission to watch the slate while it was under the table, which was freely granted, but on this occasion, and whenever I did so, there were no results.

On one occasion we took the trouble to bring Mrs. Patterson to a room in the house of our departed friend. She was here among a small circle of intimate friends and members of the family, some inclined to belief and others skeptics. She failed utterly to obtain as much as even a scratch inside of the slates, although communications on paper came thick and fast. I may mention that on this occasion several persons sat with the slate continually in full view.

I had almost decided to drop Mrs. Patterson and her slate writing, although reluctant to do so, because I had no certain and positive evidence of fraud with which to confront my friend, who was getting impatient at my slowness in accepting all I had seen, when I resolved to push my investigations to a point of certainty, one way or another, and hit upon the little scheme of going prepared, at my next visit to Mrs. Patterson, with a mirror in my pocket which I could hold under the table at an angle that would reflect whatever occurred on the other side of the table, in the Medium's lap, the accustomed position of the mysterious slate. The sitting was held in broad daylight, and the table was so placed that the Medium was seated with her back to a window, affording sufficient light for the experiment. I purposely avoided removing my overcoat on this day, because I wished to hide my movements as much as possible, and sat down at my side of the table with considerable misgiving as to the result of taking liberties with the Spirits. The Medium this time had on her table a new slate, a larger one, one which she said had belonged to the celebrated Slade who had himself received messages on it. She said her old slate was broken, which was probably true; when I had last seen it it was in a battered condition. She asked if it would make any difference to me if she used the new slate. The only apparent difference between the slates was that this one was larger and did not close with a screw, therefore, thought I, more easily manipulated; consequently I did not withhold my consent. I wrote upon a slip of paper my question, "Will Dr. H. advise me what to do for Juliet (an old colored patient)?" I folded over the slip of paper five times, put it in the slate with a small stub of pencil, and down the slates went into the lap of the Medium where I could see them, lying plainly reflected in my little mirror which I had slipped out of my pocket and laid across my knees at the proper angle of reflection.

Mrs. Patterson first wrote a letter-sheet full of alleged Spirit communications, and handed them to me across the table for perusal. I took the sheet with one hand and while ostensibly scanning the written page, with the other hand I carefully adjusted my little mirror, on which my downcast and watchful eyes were fixed, when lo! in the mirror _I beheld a hand_, closely resembling that of the Medium, _stealthily insert its fingers between the leaves of the slate, take out the little slip, unfold and again fold it, grasp the little pencil_, which had rolled to the front while the slate was tilted that way, _and with rapid but noiseless motion_ (had there been the least noise from the pencil, it would have been drowned by the fit of coughing, which, at that instant, seized the Medium) _write across the slate from left to right, a few lines; then the leaves of the slate were closed, the little pencil laid on the top_, and, over all, two hands were folded as if in benediction. The woman opposite me, to whom the hands belonged (unless they were Spirit hands) sat with uplifted eyes, a calm expression of innocence upon her face. After holding the slates so for a moment or two, and after calling to the Spirit friends "to come and _please_ write in the slate," she produced them, saying, "It has come!"

Of course, I did all I could to master my indignation, which, at that moment, was extreme, and quietly opening the slates, I read the message pretending to have come from high authority, "The channels are obstructed, give Arsenic, Bryonia and Pulsatilla in succeeding doses, an hour apart!" The last words were somewhat illegible, and Mrs. Patterson suggested another trial; she thought the Spirits would write it plainer. Again the slates went down; _again I saw the hand at work as before_. This second time the hurriedly written message was not much plainer than the first. Mrs. Patterson, who was better versed in deciphering Spirit dispatches than I, offered to read it for me, but remembering that "all good things are three," I requested a third trial. After this last experiment, in which again, _for the third time, in my little mirror, I saw the stealthy fingers write on the slate_, I told the Medium I was satisfied, smothered my indignant anger, and left the house as quickly as I could. For the larger part of a year I had investigated in good faith this department of Spiritualism, which, in this Medium's case, had turned out a downright fraud.

Not long after my last interview with Mrs. Patterson it was my good fortune to meet with an _unprofessional_ Medium, a young gentleman of reputed honor and veracity, to whom I was introduced by a friend who had known him from childhood, and vouched for his honesty. This young man's Mediumistic abilities had begun to develop with the planchette, and had reached the stage in which a drum and sundry musical instruments were played behind a curtain where he sat entranced, with his hands tightly bound together by a handkerchief or cord. These séances were continued with regularity on certain nights in the week, and were confined strictly to the family circle and to a few privileged friends. There was, therefore, no temptation to deceive for gain. I came into the circle as an observer, not as believer, but was impressed by the phenomena witnessed at the first séance in which the Medium was under Indian control. There were strange sounds, guttural tones and whoops which really might have emanated from a wild son of the forest. A drum, an accordion, a zither, a mouth-organ were all played upon. The drumsticks kept time to music, rapped on the wall, appeared above the edge of the curtain several times, brightly illuminated, as if dipped in electric light or some phosphorescent substance. As I have said, I was impressed, and might have ended in complete conversion, by manifestations from so trustworthy a source, and vouched for in such perfect sincerity, had it not, in an unlucky moment, occurred to me to apply a little harmless test.

The test consisted simply in putting a dab of printer's ink on one of the drumsticks at the very last moment before the séance began. The result could not prove physically injurious to the Medium, who had challenged investigation, nor to any one in the circle. The result was startling. Being accorded the privilege of tying the Medium's hands, I proceeded to do so with a stout cord, using a certain knot which I believe has never been known to slip or come undone. This accomplished, and while some one else fastened the Medium securely to his chair, with his back to the instruments on the table, the ink, concealed in a pocket-handkerchief, was applied. In this position we left the Medium, the lights were lowered and the music began. Soon were heard the deep breathings preceding the trance, then the 'Indian' began to manifest, at first somewhat sullenly, as if not pleased with the conditions, some of the instruments sounded, and at last the drumsticks began their tattoo. At the close of the séance, when the curtains were drawn and the lights turned up, the Medium was found in his chair with his hands still tied, but great was the astonishment of everyone present at the marvelous condition of the Medium's hands. How in the world printer's ink could have gotten smeared over them while under control of 'Deerfoot, the Indian,' no one, not even the Medium, could fathom.

I believe there is an explanation for these or similar phenomena, but I must leave it to the ingenious and adroit expounders of Spiritualist philosophy.

CALVIN B. KNERR.

* * * * *

MEDIUMISTIC DEVELOPMENT.

At my very first séance, as a member of this Commission, I was told by the Spirit of Elias Hicks, through Mrs. Patterson, that I was gifted by nature with great Mediumistic power. Another Medium, with whom I had a session shortly afterwards (I cannot remember his name, but he advertised himself as a great 'Australian Medium'), professed himself quite unable to exert any power in the presence of a Medium so much more powerful than himself. 'Father Holland,' the control of Mrs. Williams, in New York, assured me that I merely needed development to have Spiritual manifestations at my own home; and Joseph Caffray was so emphatic in his assertions of my extraordinary Spiritual capabilities, that I began to think that it was my duty to quicken these dormant powers and not to let them 'fust in me unused,' and if successful, when I had become fully 'developed,' I could offer myself to my fellow Commissioners as a _corpus vile_ on which every experiment could be made, and at a great saving of expense.

Spiritualists constantly reproach investigators of Spiritualism with faint-heartedness and lack of patience; they allege that at the very first rebuff all investigating ardor cools, and that one failure is deemed sufficient to condemn a whole system.

If the case be really thus, the Spiritualists have a show of reason for this objection, and it behooves the Seybert Commission to give no ground for it.

After much deliberation I decided to put myself in the hands of Caffray for 'development.' I preferred this Medium, first, because he was the most emphatic of all in his assertion of my almost unrivaled Mediumistic powers, and in his confidence that indications of Spiritual growth would be manifest in three or four weeks, and at the end of six weeks or of two months I might celebrate my Spiritual majority by slatefuls of messages; and, secondly, Mr. Hazard assured me again and again that Caffray was the 'greatest Medium in the country;' and did not Mr. Hazard, by way of proof, show me a stoppered vial containing a card, on which, through Caffray's Mediumship, a message had been written while the closed vial was fast held in his closed hand?

The first step was the purchase of two slates from Caffray, for which I gave him several dollars. They were common enough to look at, but ah! they had been for months in his Materializing Cabinet and had absorbed Spiritual power to the point of saturation, and fairly exuded it. I brought them carefully from New York, and folded them in black muslin, and laid them away in a dark drawer.

Caffray told me that with a beginner the Spirits found it somewhat easier to write with French chalk than with slate pencil. So I bought a box of a dozen pieces, such as tailors use.

The instructions which I received from Caffray were to keep these slates carefully in the dark, and every evening at about the same hour to sit in total darkness, with my hands resting on them for about a half or three-quarters of an hour; to maintain a calm, equable, passive state of mind, even to think of any indifferent subject rather than to concentrate my thoughts too intently on the slate-writing. There could be no question of the result. A Medium of my unusual and excessive power would find, at the end of three weeks, faint zig-zag scratches within the closed slates, and these scratches would gradually assume shape, until at last messages would be legible, probably at the end of six weeks, or of three months at the very farthest.

In addition to this, I must wear, night and day, a piece of magnetized paper, about six inches square, a fresh piece every night and morning; its magnetism was exhausted in about twelve hours. When I mentioned to Mr. Hazard the proposed use of this magnetized paper, he assured me that it was a capital idea--that he had himself used it for a headache, and when he put it on the top of his head 'it turned all his hair backward.' I confess to dismay when I heard this; Caffray had told me that I must wear this paper on the top of my head under my hat! But did it not behoove the Acting Chairman of the Seybert Commission to yield himself a willing victim to the cause of Psychical Research? Was to be, or not to be, a Medium so evenly balanced that the turning of a hair, or of a whole head of hair was to repel me? Perish the thought! That paper should be worn on the top of my head, under my hat, and that hat should be worn all day long. I would eat my breakfast with that hat on, eat my dinner with that hat on, and sleep with that hat on, and that magnetized paper should remain on the top of my head, let it turn my hair to all the points of the compass, if it would!

When I received the slates from Caffray he had no paper that was sufficiently magnetized just then; he had some sheets that were about half done, and promised to send them to me as soon as the process was complete.

In the meantime I began with the slates, sitting with them in total darkness from about a quarter past eight to nine o'clock every evening, with my hands resting on them lightly.

In three or four days the paper arrived. I explained to my family that hereafter they must not infer, from the wearing of my hat indoors and at meals, either that my wits had slipped, or that I had become converted to Judaism, but that my conduct was to be viewed by the light of the pure flame of research. In my secret soul I resolved that I would go at once, that very morning, to New York and plead with Caffray for some slight easing of my ordeal. The 'Spectre of the Threshold' appeared to wear a silk hat, and I was afraid I never, never should pass him.

The magnetized paper I handled with awe. It was, in outward semblance, ordinary white blotting paper, and, from some faint indications of ink here and there, looked as though it might on occasion have served its original use; but had I not paid a dollar a sheet for it? It must be good.

As I started for the train I put a piece on the top of my head, gave a fond, farewell look at my hair, and planted my hat firmly on my brows. I reached the train, and while looking for a seat caught sight of my friend, Miss W----. Of course, I instantly bowed, and instantly there came fluttering down before her astonished and bewildered eyes a piece of blotting paper. I snatched it hastily, and in terror lest I had already broken the charm and forfeited all chance of Mediumship, retired to the rear of the car and furtively replaced the precious pad. Decidedly I must see Caffray at once.

Luckily, when I reached New York I found that eminent Medium at home, and, 'bonneted,' rehearsed to him my dread anticipations. He could not repress a grim laugh, and to my inexpressible relief gave me permission to wear the paper suspended round my neck next the skin.

With those precious slates I sat every night, at the same hour, in darkness. I allowed nothing to interfere with this duty; no call of family, of friends, of society, was heeded. At the end of three weeks I searched every molecule of the slate for the indication of a zig-zag line, but the surface was unsullied, and its black monotony returned stare for stare.

Still hopeful and trustful I continued, day by day and week by week. The six weeks expired. Not a zig, nor a zag. Caffray was kept busy magnetizing paper. I renewed my stock and determined to push on to two months. I moved to the country and carried my slates thither, wrapped in double folds of black muslin. The days and weeks rolled on. Two months passed. The slates were as clean as when they came into my possession. I would go on to three months. Does not a hen sit for three weeks? Where a hen gives a week, shall not I give a month? Is not a Medium worth more than a chicken?

'Courage!' cried Caffray, with each batch of paper. I went to the seashore and my slates went with me. Not a single evening did I break my rule.

And so it went on. The three months became four; became five; became six!

And there an end, with absolutely virgin slates.

I had used enough blotting paper, it seemed to me, to absorb a spot on the sun. I dare not calculate the number of hours I had spent in darkness.

Let Spiritualistic reproaches of investigators for lack of zeal and patience be heaped up hereafter till 'Ossa becomes a wart;' I care not; my withers are unwrung.

_Punch_ gives a receipt for making 'Gooseberry Fool:' 'Carefully skin your gooseberries, extract the seeds and wash the pulp in three waters for six hours each. Having done this with the gooseberries, the Fool is perfect.'

HORACE HOWARD FURNESS.

* * * * *

SEALED LETTERS.

Readers of the Spiritualistic literature of the present day cannot fail to have their attention frequently called to the remarkable power attributed to certain Mediums, not only of reading the contents of envelopes which are securely gummed and sealed, but of returning to the questions therein contained pertinent answers from friends in the other world. It is far from uncommon to hear of conversions to faith in Spiritualism wrought by these remarkable proofs of Spiritual power. At this hour, in many a loving home, responses to letters, thus sealed and answered through these Mediums, are treasured as tenderest, completest proofs that love survives the grave and still encircles the living and the dead.

Recognizing in this phase of Mediumship a department of Spiritualism capable of plain, matter-of-fact investigation, which could be conducted in writing and demanding no special powers of observation, the duty of investigation devolved mainly upon the Acting Chairman.

There are only four of these special Mediums whose advertisements I have seen in Spiritual papers. He who has probably the widest reputation is Dr. James V. Mansfield, Boston. A second is Mr. R.W. Flint, New York City. A third is Mrs. Dr. Eleanor Martin, Columbus, Ohio; and lastly, also of the same name, Mrs. Eliza A. Martin, of Oxford, Massachusetts.

Through the Mediumship of the first, I have seen it stated that upward of a hundred thousand securely sealed letters have been answered; and the names of men high in our business and financial world have been cited to me as of those who had received proofs of his power which could not be questioned, nor explained on any other ground than that of clairvoyance, or of Spirit communication. To him, therefore, I concluded to apply first.

The choice of a subject whereon to communicate with a denizen of the other world is not easy. To follow in the well-trodden path and ask after the welfare of departed friends would only end, I well knew, in turning on that stream of generalities, not glittering, but very dull, in which a large experience had taught me that disembodied Spirits chiefly delight when expatiating on the conditions of their changed existence. Furthermore, it was desirable that from the investigation should be eliminated all elements of thought-transference or of mind-reading. I must select a subject on which my own mind was a blank, and where the responses would have to be definite and unambiguous, and withal quite within the scope of Spiritual knowledge.

At last, as fulfilling, in all honesty and sincerity, the requisite conditions, a skull in my possession was fixed on.

This skull is a relic, interesting from its dramatic associations. It has been used for fifty or sixty years as a 'property' at the Walnut Street Theatre, whenever 'Hamlet' has been performed, and as 'Yorick's skull' has been handled in that play, from Edmund Kean down to Henry Irving and Edwin Booth. It is preserved with care, and mounted on a piece of polished black marble. Surely here is a skull whose experiences are singular above all ordinary skulls, and in whose career its original owner might be not unreasonably expected to cherish some interest or to have followed its fortunes with some little attention. Untold possibilities for the vindication of Spiritualistic truth and power hang around it, should there be an unwavering agreement by all Spiritual authorities, as to the circumstances, when alive, of its original owner. Surely, I concluded, the translated inhabitants of the 'summer-land' cannot have doffed the homespun honesty of mortal life; all will either confess ignorance with regard to this skull, or display their truthfulness by a substantial harmony in their reports, and thereby furnish an indisputable, irrefragable proof of the truth of Spiritualism.

Sincere in this trust, I wrote on a small sheet of paper this question: "What was the name, age, sex, color or condition in life of the owner, when alive, of the skull here in my library? 28 February, 1885." This paper was put in an envelope, whereof the flap was then gummed to within a small distance of the point, under this point some sealing-wax was dropped, and enough was added above it to form a large, heavy, substantial impression. At the four corners additional seals, with different impressions, were placed. Thus gummed, and sealed with five seals, the envelope was enclosed to Dr. J.V. Mansfield, with a request that it be subjected to his Mediumistic power.

In a few days the following was received:

'Boston, March 2d, 1885.

Dear Furness.--Your package came duly to hand most respectfully say I have given the package two sittings and re'd from two different spirits (purported) answer one coroberating [_sic_] the other statement One from Robt Hair [_sic_] the other from Dr B. Rush for the two communicates my charge is 5.00 which if you will send me per registered mail I will remit you per return mail Respfy J.V. Mansfield I judge from the com. it relates to a skeleton.'

With this letter the sealed envelope was returned, apparently in exactly the same state in which it had been sent; the seals were intact, with the exception perhaps of a few trifling fractures, for which the transit to and from Boston, through the mail, would readily account. Upon closer inspection, however, and upon turning the envelope so as to catch the light, I thought that a slight glazing of gum was discernible around the central seal, and from beneath its edge a minute bubble of mucilage protruded. The fee demanded was at once forwarded, and by return of mail the following 'communicates' were received, written in pencil on long strips of common paper, and in two different hands:

Dear Furness.--Yours of 28 Feby before me--as to this matter under consideration I have looked it over and over again Called my old friend Geo Combe and we are of the mind it is the skull of a female--Combe says he thinks it was that of a Colored woman--the age--about 40 to 44 the name of the one who inhabited it--it would not be possible for any spirit but the one who the skull belonged to If it was colored--Cornelia Winnie might know. Respfy ROBT HARE Mch 2 '85.'

In a larger, bolder hand on the second slip was the following:

'My dear Townsman--pardon what may seem an intrusion--but seeing your anxiety to get the Aage [_sic_] sex--col and name of a skull in your office and seeing the conclusion that Dr. Hare and Proffr Combe have arrived at--I will say that I have looked the same over and fully concur in their conclusion save in the color of the one who once annimated [_sic_] that skull. Fowler Spurzeheim [_sic_] and Gall agree in saying that Hare and Combe have nothing to base an opinion upon, as to the color--yet in sex they agree Yours with Respect

BENJA RUSH M.D.

Exact age could not be determined. Mch 2 '85'

These answers are certainly remarkable. The very words of the question inside the sealed envelope are here openly repeated, and although the six eminent, scientific ghosts, Hare, Combe, Fowler, Spurzheim, Gall, and Rush do not agree with each other on all points, yet a slight divergence, or contrariety, in opinion is at times observable to the grosser eyes of flesh among doctors upon earth; and then they were all in accord over the sex of the skull, in which problem, having one chance out of only two, they could not go very far afield. Moreover, the very framing of the question as to sex might suggest female, and as to color might suggest black.

But had not the envelope been opened?

It occurred to me to cut the edges of the sealed envelope carefully, whereby I could examine the flap, on the inside. It was done. The paper of the envelope under three of the seals was torn, and deception stood revealed. The seals had been cut out, and restored to their position with mucilage.

Although, in legal phrase, I might rest my case here, yet I was anxious so to seal an envelope that while its contents could not be extracted without the destruction of the envelope and a betrayal of any attempted fraud, yet that an answer to the question enclosed should be quite within the clairvoyant power, so called, of the Medium, if he really possessed any, and as to the existence whereof I was sincerely anxious to obtain some satisfactory proof. Animated with this desire, I proceeded as follows:

In the 'communicate' from the Spirit of Dr. Hare, reference is made to Cornelia Winnie's possible knowledge of the information which I was seeking in regard to the skull. Could this have been a lure to tempt me to knock again at the Spiritual door of which Dr. Mansfield is the porter?

At any rate I accepted the suggestion. On a sheet of note-paper I wrote:

'Can Cornelia Winnie, or any other Spirit (Dr. Hare refers me to the former), give me any particulars of the life or death of the colored woman who once animated this skull here in my Library. I am entirely ignorant myself on the subject.'

This was folded, placed in an envelope, gummed and sealed precisely as I had folded, gummed and sealed the previous letter. This I marked with ink on the outside 'No. 1.'

On another sheet of similar note-paper I repeated word for word, and line for line, and dot for dot, the very same question. This paper was also folded and put into an envelope, BUT two or three stitches of red silk were then passed through the flap of the envelope and the enclosed paper, sewing the two securely together; these stitches were made at the point of the flap, and again at each of the four corners. Over these stitches, and concealing them, seals of red sealing wax were affixed. Exteriorly the two envelopes were precisely alike. The stitched envelope was marked on the outside 'No. 2.' As the contents of both were identical, a clairvoyant Spirit that could answer No. 1 could answer No. 2, but nothing less than superhuman power could extract the paper from No. 2 without so tearing the envelope as to betray an un-Spiritual origin. These two envelopes were enclosed to our Medium with the following note:

'Dear Doctor Mansfield. The answers to my sealed letter were so satisfactory and so very curious that I should like to follow up the interesting subject, if I am not taxing your powers too heavily. I therefore enclose two more sealed envelopes, marked No. 1 and No. 2. If it be possible, I should like to have you sit with No. 1 first. If the Spirits respond, pray send me word and let me know how much I am indebted to you.'

My object in asking the Medium to sit first with No. 1 was that, if he were fraudulent, finding the ease with which No. 1 could be opened, he would undertake the opening of No. 2 with such freedom and assurance that the envelope would be torn beyond the healing power of mucilage, and a confession of failure would have to follow.

In a few days the envelopes were returned with the following brief note:

'Dear Furness: Send you what came to your P K the 2d gave no response my terms are $3 for each trial--warrant nothing.

Respectfully,

J.V.M.'

The Spiritual communication enclosed reads as follows:

'I Bress de Lord for deh one mor to talk to de people of my ole home I been thar lots o tim since I com here--but o Lord de Massy--they no see _Winne_ cos she be ded and she jus no ded at tall--now--as to dot Col gal--_Hed_ I could not say--sure--but I think it Dinah Melish--she who lov de Lord too. I think it seem Dina top not. Will see Dina som time and then i ask her--do you no Minister Du Cachet well he here--and want the [there here follows in the original a rude drawing of a decanter and wine glass. In this scandalous allusion there is no trace, it will be observed, of phonetic spelling in the proper name] just de same. I Bress de Lor I don't want it.

March 13, '85.

Cornelia Winnie.'

An examination of the envelope marked No. 1, by cutting it open at the edges, revealed the same story of fraud: three of the seals had been cut out, and replaced.

An examination of No. 2, in the same way, readily disclosed the reason why the Spirits had failed to answer, although the question assuredly presented no greater difficulties than in No. 1. An attempt had been made to start two of the seals, but meeting with unexpected resistance in the silk stitches, and finding that further effort would end in tearing the envelope in a very palpable and mundane fashion, the Spirits had grown disheartened and taciturn.

We shall meet this Medium again, but for the present we will leave him, after pausing for a minute over his business card, which, after stating his terms in prosaic dollars and cents, thus apostrophizes his clientele:

"From the bright stars,
And viewless air
Sweet Spirit, if thy home be there,
Answer me.--Answer me."

Happily my experience enables me to remove all doubt as to the locality of the Spirit's 'home,' and to state with positiveness its exact location. But like the German philologist's example of the remarkable incongruity in English between spelling and pronunciation, that what was written 'Boz' was pronounced 'Charles Dickens,' so I cheerfully add to this list of incongruities that what is written 'bright stars' is pronounced 'Boston,' and 'viewless air' is pronounced 'Dartmouth Street.'

I next turned my attention to Mr. R.W. Flint in New York. From him I received the following circular in answer to my inquiries:

"DEAR

I am controlled by one spirit, purporting to be my guide who is the
scribe for the spirits, delivering (in his own hand-writing) what
is dictated to him by the spirit of communicating.

I am in a normal (not trance) state, but unconscious of the
composition.

My hand is moved to write from right to left (backwards),
independent of my will.

By holding the written side up to the light, the answer can be
read.

The spirit-letters should be SECURELY sealed, addressed to the
spirit, giving his or her name in full, and signed by the writer's
name in full; but no address on the envelope.

When left open they cannot be answered, my agency being efficient
only when my mind is passive, and blank to both questions and
answers.

Put your questions clearly, directly, briefly. The mixed and many
kinds defeat the object of the investigator.

I have my photograph for sale, exhibiting my Spirit Guide's hand
and arm, or form of control; taken while answering a sealed
letter."

[The terms here follow, with honorable notification that the money is returned in all cases when the letters are not answered.]

It will be noted that this Medium's 'Spirit-guide' requires the names in full of both Spirit and writer; I was, therefore, forced to select a Spirit who knew not only me and my ways, but also the high value that is placed on that skull. Mindful that eminent Spiritual authority had pronounced this skull to be that of a colored woman, I decided, after deliberation, to address the Spirit of W---- H----, a colored servant, who had lived over forty years in one family a faithful, blameless life, and who, when he died, carried with him the respect and regards of the entire household, and whose widow and daughters still survive in honest, humble life, and to whose ears this apparent freedom with their husband's and father's name will never reach. Accordingly, the following note was addressed to the Spirit world:

'Dear W---- H----. Can you tell me anything about the owner, when alive, of the skull here in the Library? You remember how anxious I have always been to have my ignorance on this score enlightened. Have you any message to send to your wife, M---- F----? Are you happy now? Your old friend, Horace Howard Furness.'

This letter was put in an envelope, which was gummed and sealed with five simple seals, without the impenetrable stitches of silk, and enclosed with the fee to Mr. Flint. It was received again in a few days with this note:--'Dear Sir--I gave your sealed Spirit-letter three sittings and regret to state that I have been unable to get an answer. My Guide at each sitting wrote and said, the Spirit called upon is not present to dictate an answer.' The fee was also returned.

An examination of the envelope by cutting at the edges, as in the previous experiment, showed that the 'Spirit arm' of the Guide of Mr. Flint had not the nerve of Dr. Mansfield. I was at a loss to know why it stopped; it was going along in the removal of the seals very nicely; to be sure the paper was tearing perilously near where the rent could be detected from the outside, but with only a little more of Dr. Mansfield's pluck, and the Spirit of W---- H---- would have been present, and the fee pocketed. However, from whatever cause, whether fright or repentance, the 'flighty purpose was o'ertook,' and the Medium supposed that a little mucilage would 'clear him of the deed.'

Next I turned to Mrs. Eleanor Martin, in Columbus, Ohio. Without writing a fresh letter, I sent her the same letter to W---- H----, which had been returned to me from Mr. Flint, and the envelope was sealed in the simple easy way with five seals, but no silk stitches.

To this came the following response:

'Columbus, Ohio, March 25th, '85.

... Please find enclosed your sealed letter, also the messages, and my terms. I learn from the messages, your letter was written upon the Spiritual topic. My terms being $1.00. But in your case I find the messages are at a greater length than many and according to request of the Spirit "Belle" I paint the little white rose as her nature. Most truly, Eleanor Martin.

First message, written by one of my Guides in Spirit for the following persons:

MESSAGE.

In earth life I was tall and fair
With jet black eyes and golden hair
Eyes that sparkled with mirth and song
And whose hair in curls one yard long.

Ah but many sad years ago
My life was burdened with woe
But the seens [_sic_] through which I passed
Are now with gladness overcast.

I was born in your earth to await
The coming of a cruel fate
Yes, I a true and loving wife
But mine was a sad darkened life.

Oh a life which seemed to last
To me the future, as the past,
And as the lone hours drifted by
My only prayer, Oh could I die.

Cruel is the assassins hand
Yet so many are in your land
Day by day as a fearful flood
Hearts have flowed in tears of blood.

My own the pain, I could not tell
But I can say I know full well
My soul ne'er found sweet peace one day
And with earth I could no longer stay.

My form was sold to doctors three
So you have all that's left of me
I come to greet you in white mull
You that prizes my lonely skull.

I can cause you many bright hours
Strew your path in purest flowers
For your kindness tendered me
I will _always_ guard and guide thee.

You may call me your Sister Belle
My other name I ne'er can tell
They tell me it is for the best
To let earth's troubles be at rest.

Tis _I_ who have often raped [_sic_]
In your quiet room have taped [_sic_]
And have impressed on your mind
Many inquiries of me so kind.

By Blind Harry for a beautiful lady who gives the name Belle.

SECOND MESSAGE.

To my Dear friend Horace

Horace you wonder if all is well
Yes, I'm more happy than I can tell
For sorrow and trouble does not last
But like a sweet dream goes gliding past
In a smooth path of eternal day
Where dawns for each a perpetual May.

Dear M---- tell her, and family too
That I am ever to them most true
And I daily guide her tender feet
Where'er she goes upon the street
That she has my love forever more
I understand her more than before.

Oh! yes this bright and eternal space
Fills each true soul with love and grace
There is nothing like earth's crimes so vile
No frown wreathes the face but a sweet smile
And which glides along, to one and all
Greeting old, and young, gay, and small.

The bright spirit world is everywhere
And to each is appointed some care
To guide earth's children on their way
Amid the poor, as well as the gay
We dwell in fields of labor and love
Guiding thousands in true relms [_sic_] above.

Many things I would love to rehearse
Which would be written for me in verse
But so many are here to await
Their joyous messages to relate
Many friends with me are ever near
To guide our brother Horace dear.--

By Blind Harry.

For a gentleman who gives his name W---- H----.'

The sealed envelope scarcely needed to be opened at the back for interior inspection; its exterior bore ample and all-sufficing evidence that the seals had been broken, and the gum softened; the fingers which had again pressed down the gummed edge were not as unsullied as 'Sister Belle's' white rose.

This communication from the Spirit world gave me pause. Here was food for reflection. It settled many points in dispute among the scientific Ghosts. First: they were all right on the question of sex; but Hare, Combe and Cornelia Winnie were wrong as to color. Sister Belle is not a negress, her hair is not black and in kinks, it is golden, and its curls are three feet in length, moreover, a _white_ rose is her emblem. And what a sad domestic tragedy have I not here unearthed. In reading between the lines of these verses we learn that what darkened the life of this true and loving woman was a mercenary husband, and that this husband survived her, and in his unhallowed greed sold her body, and this, too, at so exorbitant a price, that it required the united purses of three doctors to induce him to close the bargain.

Secondly: by the message from W---- H----, that most sedate and respectful of all respectful colored servants, the moralist may learn anew the truth that Death is a leveller of all distinctions. Not even when the Emperor Charlemagne appeared at a Materializing Séance in a dress-coat and standing collar, and apologetically remarked that 'Kings leave their ermine, sir, at the door of the tomb,' not even then was this great truth driven so profoundly home as when W---- H---- greeted me by my Christian name, and hailed me 'brother.'

Need it be added that I gratefully remitted to Medium Number Three a double fee, and do yet consider myself many times her debtor? Her gratitude to me found expression in another outburst of song.

Had the identity of the original owner of the skull been my sole object, I might well have rested content. I had found the owner, and she had claimed her own. She was 'Sister Belle,' and confessed to that rare combination of golden hair with black eyes, like Lady Penelope Rich, Sir Philip Sydney's first love. But my duty as a member of this Commission compelled me to complete my investigations, and make application to the fourth and last Medium for answering Sealed Letters.

As I have stated, this Medium is also a woman, and resides in Massachusetts. Her circular directs the sealed letters to be 'well sealed or stitched, so that they may not be opened until returned.'

To this Medium, Mrs. Eliza A. Martin, Oxford, Mass., was sent the same letter to W---- H---- that had been sent to her predecessor, of the same name, in Columbus, and it was put in an envelope, merely gummed and sealed, without the silk stitches.

Within a few days I received the following note, enclosing my sealed envelope: 'A message awaits your order from W---- H----. Please state if you recognize Mrs. M.F.H.--Several friends came and that name was mentioned.... There are some words in an unknown tongue.'

The minute that I looked at the returned envelope, I felt like standing uncovered, as in the presence of genius, a genius before which Mediums One, Two and Three paled. Nothing could excel the unsullied virginity of the seals, or of the gummed spaces between them. I felt that I must proceed with the utmost caution. With a very sharp penknife I then began to cut the edge of the envelope at one end. Scarcely had the knife been drawn very slowly more than the half of an inch before it became manifest that the edge of the envelope presented more resistance than the simple fold of paper would make. I stopped and examined the severed edges. Very delicate but very distinct traces were visible of a thin mucilage, perhaps of rice-water or of diluted gum-tragacanth. How exquisite and how light are the touches of ethereal, Spiritual fingers! After all the trouble with my seals, when, emulating Dr. Watt's _Busy Bee_, so neat I spread my wax,' it was beginning to dawn upon me that clairvoyant eyes, quite as much as our own, require Heaven's broad sunshine on black ink and white paper.

The transmission of the fee brought in a few days the following:

'Dictated by the Spirit of W---- H----.

To H.H. Furness. I found things very different here from what I expected. I think that is almost the universal experience. The half has not been told, nor can it ever be, for no language known to humanity can convey any definite knowledge of the mysteries of the Spiritual Life.

I remain the same toward you and all my earthly friends. Am with you frequently. Was present in your Library with you one day recently. I send my love to M---- F---- and to all others who knew me in earth-life.

A friend whom we both know and respect will pass over to this side before long.

Will come to you again.'

I cannot but think that all will agree in estimating this communication, with its adroit generalization, and in its general tone as superior to any thus far received. On another sheet of paper was written:

'There is a Spirit Friend present, who gives the name of Marie St. Clair. Earth-life had not much pleasure for her, and a course of dissapation [_sic_] and sin resulted in an untimely death. Born of French parentage, and inheriting some of the peculiar characteristics of that people might perhaps furnish some excuse. This Spirit says furthermore, you have something which once belonged to her in your possession.

"Behold this ruin, 'tis a skull
Once of etherial spirit full--"
"Par quel ordre du Ciel, que je ne puis compendre
Vous dis-je plus que je ne dois?"

Here is evidently 'a spirit of no common rate,' of whom we might well desire further acquaintance, albeit at the cost of losing golden-haired, black-eyed Sister Belle. But why should we talk of 'loss?' If, as Banquo says, 'there's husbandry in Heaven,' why should we not in the 'Summer-land' find one and the same skull, with frugal economy, given to two owners?

Desirous of submitting the mother-wit of this Medium to the test of stitched envelopes, I wrote the following:--'Is Marie St. Clair pleased in having her skull carefully treasured here in my Library? Does it gratify her, as a Spirit, that it is mounted on black marble? Does she ever hover over it?'

This was placed in an envelope, gummed, and sealed with five seals in the ordinary, easy-going way, and marked No. 1.

The very same questions were repeated on another piece of paper and put in an envelope, which was stitched securely with silk, the stitches passing through both the envelope and the paper, and carefully concealed under the sealing wax. This was marked No. 2, and in the note accompanying these two envelopes, the Medium was requested to sit with No. 1 first. The Test was the same as that to which Dr. Mansfield had been subjected, and to which he had succumbed.

The mail soon returned both envelopes, with this note:--'The reply comes to us in the affirmative to both envelopes. There is quite a communication for you from same Spirit Friend.'

A close examination of the edges of the envelopes soon revealed the edge at which they had been opened and closed again. That edge has been preserved intact for future verification, if required, and the envelopes were opened by cutting the other edges. The seals had not been removed; as, in fact, there was no need of removing them. The paper containing the questions had not been extracted from No. 2; it still remained firmly stitched to the front of the envelope. Yet the Medium had evidently read it. Her words are 'the reply comes in the affirmative to both envelopes,' which is a good, fair answer. I was puzzled, it must be confessed. Suddenly it occurred to me to try how far one could look into the contents of the paper, supposing the end of the envelope to be open. I tried it, and lo! enough can be easily read to make out that No. 2 is a repetition of No. 1. The needle had missed taking up all the folds of the paper!

The communication from Marie St. Clair, which accompanied these envelopes, runs thus:--'To H.H. Furness. Your kindly nature has often drawn the Spirit of Marie to your side. I consider myself indebted to you for certain acts which you will understand. Not that the poor inanimate thing which you have so kindly treated, is of itself of much account, but your kindness has often drawn me to your side in moments when you little dreamed I were near. Had I met in material existence one like yourself my past might have been far different. In this beautiful life, the sources and courses of all earthly misfortunes and sins appear to us like a figure seen in a dream. The lowest plane of Spiritual life is as much superior to earthly existence as sunlight is superior to starlight. From Marie St. Clair. Please inform Mrs. Martin why you so carefully preserved the skull, and where you obtained it, and all you know about it, and oblige yours truly, E.A. Martin. There is an acrostic upon your name waiting for you here from Marie.'

If the fair and frail Marie appears somewhat cautious in direct allusions to her skull, and to her 'earth-life,' it is certainly to her credit that she seems to have retained no taint of mercenary greed. She made no demand or reference to a fee, and a second letter had to be sent to her Medium to learn the amount of my debt. This is her reply:--'Your kind favour came duly to me, and as your message to your Spirit Friend was delivered previously, that is, as soon as it was written, I had no further effort to make than to convey the following to you:

'Amants, heureux amants, voulez-vous voyager! Que ce soit aux rives prochaines.

Patience, je n'en ai pas quand je suis si près et si loin de vous.

Ah! tout ce qu'il y a dans le coeur de crainte, de douleur, de desespoir, j'ai tout deviné; tout souffert, je puis tout exprimer maintenant surtout la joie. Adieu! Marie St. Clair.'

Here end my investigations into the power of Spirits to answer sealed questions.

In every instance the envelopes had been opened and reclosed; it is therefore scarcely necessary to add that every instance has borne the stamp of Fraud.

There is yet one other dark chapter, perhaps the darkest of all, which my duty compelled me to read.

I began with Dr. Mansfield, in Boston; let me end with him there.

In addition to the answering of sealed letters sent to him by mail, this Medium exercises his Mediumistic powers on questions propounded to him, or rather to the Spirits through him, at his own home.