"He played the lyre so beautiful on earth, that when he got to the
spheres a committee gave him a golden one, with all the modern
improvements."
Question concerning the lyre repeated. A mysterious rubbing interpreted
as an affirmative reply.
"Have you brought Pocahontas with you? (she 'most always comes with
him)--and if so, can she kiss me to-night?"
The table is exceedingly doubtful.
"Could she kiss Colonel Prowley, or even pull his hair a little?"
No certainty of either.
"Can she kiss Miss Turligood?"
The table is satisfied that it couldn't be done.
"Let me try her," urged Stellato, with the confidence of an expert; then
in seductive tones,--
"Couldn't Pocahontas kiss Miss Branly, if all the lights were put out?"
Pocahontas thought it highly probable that she could.
Here some interesting badgering. Miss Branly declined being kissed in
the dark. Miss Turligood thought it would be very satisfactory, if she
would, and couldn't see why any one should object to it. She (Miss
Turligood) would willingly be kissed in the dark, or in the light, in
furtherance of scientific investigation.
Stellato suggested a compromise.
"Might not the kissing be done through a medium?"
At first the table thought it couldn't, but afterwards relented, and
thought it might.
"Would Pocahontas appoint that medium?"
She would.
"Should the alphabet be called?"
It should not.
"Would the table tip towards the medium indicated?"
It could not be done.
"Should somebody call over the names of all mediums present, and would
the table tip at the right one?"
Ah, that was it!
"I suppose you and I have no share in this Gift Enterprise," whispered
Colonel Prowley.
"Order! order!" shouted Miss Turligood, glancing in our direction with
great severity. "This general conversation cannot be permitted. We are
about to have a most interesting manifestation.--Pocahontas, do you wish
me to call over the names?"
Pocahontas did not object.
"Very well, then, you will tip when I come to the name of the medium
through whom you consent to kiss Miss Sarah Branly?"
Pocahontas certainly would.
"Is it Mrs. Colfodder?"
No reply.
"Is it I, Eugenia Turligood?"
No, it certainly was not.
"Well, then, I suppose it must be Mr. Stellato!"
Here the table was violently convulsed, as if somebody were pulling it
very hard upon Mr. Stellato's side, and somebody else holding it with
rigid firmness upon the other.
"_Is_ it Mr. Stellato?"
Convulsion repeated.
"I don't think you stopped long enough at Mrs. Colfodder's name,"
interposed Miss Branly. "I am sure the table was going to move, if you
had given it time."
"Nothing easier than to try again," responded Miss Turligood. "Is it
Mrs. Colfodder?"
This time the table fairly sprang into the lap of the lady indicated.
And so that worthy widow arose and saluted--or rather Pocahontas,
through her mediumship, arose and saluted--Miss Sarah Branly. And the
skeptic will please take notice that this extraordinary manifestation is
neither enlarged nor magnified, but that it actually happened precisely
as is here set down.
After this, Mr. Stellato, being put under inspiration, delivered a
discursive homily upon the "New Dispensation" which was at present
vouchsafed to the citizens of Foxden. He testified to the great relief
of getting clear of the "Old Theology,"--meaning thereby such
interpretations of Scripture as are held by the mass of our New-England
churches. Moreover, he would announce his personal satisfaction in
having, under spiritual guidance, eradicated every vestige of belief in
hell,--a circumstance upon which, it is needless to say, that a
gentleman of his profession might be honestly congratulated. With a
view, as I could not help thinking, to my peculiar necessities, Stellato
finally enlarged upon what he termed "the principle of the thing," or,
as he otherwise phrased it, "a scientific explanation of the way the
spirits worked mediums,"--"_sperrets_" and "_meejums_" according to
celestial pronunciation, but I am loath to disturb the carnal
orthography. This philosophical exposition, drawled forth in
interminable sentences, was a dark doctrine to the uninitiated. There
was a good deal about "Essences," which, at times, seemed to relate to
the perfumery vended in the fancy-department of apothecaries' shops, and
then again to some obscure matters of "Zones," "Interiors," "Magnetic
Relations," and the like. The central revelation, if I remember rightly,
had to do with a sort of putty, by which, according to the Stellato
cosmogony, Chaos had been stuck together into a Universe. This adhesive
composition was known as "Detached Vitalized Electricity." And having
got upon this sounding title, which conveyed no meaning whatever to the
"undeveloped" understanding, Stellato was profuse in windy talk. This
Detached Vitalized Electricity, spread out over space, connected the
parts of all systems; it appeared at that very instant in the form of
"power" about Miss Turligood's head; in short, it diluted all stray bits
of modern rhetoric, all exploded feats of ancient magic, into the
thinnest of spiritual gruel, which was to supersede the strong meat upon
which the Puritan walked before his Maker.
Somebody summoned the eminent Twynintuft. Like every spirit that was
ever called for, this ex-elocutionist happened to be within a few
seconds' flight of the circle, and had nothing in the world to do but to
swoop down and tip as long as the company could possibly endure him.
The following information was elicited by affirmative or negative
replies to the interrogatories of those present:--
The spirit communicating was Twynintuft, grandfather to Mrs. Widesworth.
Was unable to give his Christian name. Thought Mrs. Colfodder's lungs in
a healthy condition. Could not undertake to move the table when no hands
were upon it. If the room were made totally dark, would attempt that
curious experiment. Was unable to give the maiden name of his earthly
wife. Thought Mr. Stellato was a healing-medium of great power. Had been
something of a Root-Doctor when in the body, and would gladly prescribe
through that gentleman for the cure of all diseases. Considered mineral
medicines destructive to the vital principle. Doctor Dastick, being a
drug-doctor, would not be recognized by any medical association in the
spheres. Would give any information about the fixed stars. The
inhabitants of the Milky Way telegraphed to each other by means of the
Detached Vitalized Electricity. Also, they bottled up the same to cure
humors. Would privately impart their recipe to Mr. Stellato. It could
not be afforded upon this earth at less than three dollars a bottle.
Would, however, authorize an exception in favor of clergymen, when they
gave certificates of cures. _The spirits did not recognize
Fast-Day_,--it was a remnant of the Old Mythological Religion. Demanded
further investigation, and promised greater marvels in future.
Here Miss Turligood became violently convulsed, and, having slapped the
table some forty times or more, seized a pencil and began to write:--
"DEAR PROWLEY,--Surrounded by a bank of
silver-tunicked attendants, I hover near you. The atmosphere is
redolent of costly herbs, which, with the well-known rotary
motion of the earth, impart density and spacefulness to our
spheral persons: this is the philosophy of our presence. Many
shining friends, supported upon fluted pillars, are with you
this evening. These grieve at your lack of faith, and flap
gold-bespattered wings in unison. Spherically yours,
"SIR JOSEPH BARLEY."
"Why does he sign himself _Sir_?" inquired Colonel Prowley, rather taken
aback at the sudden termination of this exquisite composition.
It was evidently an oversight, for the medium's hand erased the
offending title.
"When did Sir Joseph die?" I ventured to ask.
"That I cannot tell you," replied his late correspondent. "I have heard
nothing from him for several months. When he last wrote, he was
suffering under a severe influenza which must have terminated fatally.
But why not ask _him_ the question?"
"That is just my purpose.--Sir Joseph Barley, can you give me the date
of your death?"
"It is hard for spirits to give numbers," said Mr. Stellato.
"It is sometimes done by tips," quoth Miss Turligood.
I pressed the demand, and, after much cajoling and counting, a certain
day of March was fixed upon.
"Can you give me the place?"
I was instructed to call over the names of such foreign cities as I
might remember, and assured that Sir Joseph would tip at the right one.