it to bear. And while the Foxden
people were wondering about the occupation of a late pastor in one of
their churches, and inquiring of each other whether he would again speak
before them, their gossiping solicitude was suddenly set at rest.
Printed show-bills were posted about the streets: "Grand Festival of
Spiritualists at the Town Hall." "The Reverend Charles Clifton will
speak"--a line of largest type gloated upon the scandal--"IN A
TRANCE-STATE."

"I really ought to apologize," said Colonel Prowley, upon opening the
hall-door for my admittance, on the afternoon of the second Wednesday in
April, and this after repeated summons had been sounded by the brazen
knocker,--"I ought to apologize for keeping you here so long; but there
has been so much knocking about the house of late, and our cook and
housemaid having turned out to be such excellent mediums, taking just as
much interest in their circle down-stairs as we do in ours in the
parlor, and then Mrs. Colfodder being so positive that it was either Sir
Joseph Barley or Roger Williams,--though I am sure neither of them ever
knocked half so satisfactorily before, and besides"----

"My dear Sir," interrupted I, "no excuse is necessary. I have
seen enough of 'the spirits' to know how they put aside all
conventionalities. I should have accompanied Dr. Burge to the hotel, had
I anticipated disturbing the circle which, I infer, is at present in
session."

"You would have grieved me very much by doing so," rejoined the kind old
gentleman. "Dr. Burge dines with me to-morrow, and I confess--not yet
calling myself a convert to these miracles which are now vouchsafed in
Foxden--it would not be amiss to rid my premises of the amiable
magicians congregated in my parlor before a minister were invited to
enter. But a layman, as I take it, might witness these thaumaturgical
matters without scandal,--nay, perchance you may help me to that
wholesome credence in their reality which my celestial visitants so
unceasingly demand."

Colonel Prowley was in the state of mind not unusual to many
well-meaning, unoccupied people, when this modern necromancy was thrust
upon them by those pecuniarily or socially interested in its advocacy.
The upheaval to the air of that dark inward nature which is ever working
in us,--the startling proof of that loudly proclaimed, faintly realized
truth, that this mind, so pervading every fibre of the body, is yet
separate in its essence,--the novel grati