Francis Hogarth did not forget his promise to Mr. Dempster, and went to his house at the hour appointed, to be witness of the seance. A number of his friends and fellow-converts were there, and the proceedings of the evening were opened by a short and earnest prayer that none but good spirits should be permitted to be present, and that all the communications they might be permitted to hear might be blessed to the souls of all of them.
The medium was a thin, nervous-looking youth of about nineteen; but, as Mr. Dempster assured Mr. Hogarth, was in every way to be trusted, as his character was irreproachable, and of great sincerity and simplicity. Francis was very incredulous as to the appearances being caused by spiritual agency, and though he could give no satisfactory explanation of the extraordinary movements of tables, easy chairs, sofas, &c., he felt that these things were very undignified and absurd, as every unbeliever always feels at first; but the eagerness of the large party who were gathered together had something infectious in it. Many of them had known severe bereavement—many of them had been tossed on the dark sea of doubt and despondency—and the brief messages communicated by raps, or by the voice of the medium, gave them consolation and hope.
To Francis, the details communicated appeared to be meagre and unsatisfactory. The spirits all said that they were happy, which to some present was a fact of inestimable value, but to him it was a matter of course. He never had believed, since he had thought out the subject in early manhood, that God would continue existence if He did not make it a blessing. But to others who, like many before him, had intelligently accepted of a sterner theology, and who had been struggling through years of chaotic doubts and fancies for footing on which to rest, he saw that these assurances gave real strength and support. An hour had passed amidst these manifestations—the interest of the believers continued to be unflagging, but Francis felt a little tired of it. He had lost no dear friend by death. The future world had not the intense personal interest to him that it had to others. The dearest beings in the world to him were his two cousins, and they were divided from him by circumstances almost as cruel as the grave. How few have done justice to the sad partings, the mournful alienations that have been caused by circumstances! Bereavement in all its varied bitterness has been sung by many poets in strains worthy of the subject; but circumstances are so insidious, and often so prosaic, that their tragical operation has been rarely treated of in verse.
His thoughts recurred, as they always did when he felt sad or serious, to Jane Melville—to the will that had brought them together, and at the same time so cruelly parted them—to the unknown father, whose own life had been blighted by the loss of domestic happiness, dealing so fatal a blow to the son whom he meant to bless and reward, by placing him in circumstances where he could not help loving Jane, and forbidding—so far as he could forbid—the marriage of two souls made for one another. Francis was wondering if his father now saw the mistake he had committed, or regretted it, when he was startled by the announcement that his father was in the room, and wished to communicate with him.
"How am I to know it is he?" said Francis, starting up incredulously, but at the same time somewhat awed by the mere possibility that such a one was there, out of the body, owning him as his son, which he had not done while he was alive.
"Does the spirit mean to communicate by raps or through the medium?" asked Mr. Dempster.
"By raps," was the answer given.
"Take the alphabet in your own hand," said Mr. Dempster, "and ask the spirit his name, and then pass your finger over the alphabet—the rap will arrest you at the right letter."
Francis passed his finger along the alphabet, half disdainfully, half in curiosity. The rap stopped him at the letter H. He had never thought the curious little taps sounded so unearthly before. Next he was stopped at E, then at N, then at R, and next at Y; and so on, till the full name of Henry Hogarth was spelled out.
"You wish to communicate with me;—then you love me now?"
The three quick raps meaning "Yes" was the immediate reply.
"Are you satisfied with what I have done at Cross Hall since your death?"
Again the alphabet was called for, and the raps spelled out, "Very much pleased."
"Are you sorry for the will you made?"
"All will be well in the end," was spelled out.
"Did you see your nieces' sufferings unmoved—their poverty, their disappointments, their unfitness for the work that you had set them to do?"
"They are better for what they have suffered," was spelled out; "and you too."
"Does the letter in my pocket come from my mother?"
The three raps replied in the affirmative.
"Did you give her an annuity, as she says you did?"
A single rap, meaning "No," was the reply.
"What did you give her, then, to make her forego her claims on you?"
"A sum of money," was the reply.
Francis observed a great difference in the character of the raps proceeding from Mr. Hogarth from those of the spirit last summoned, which had been supposed to be that of Mr. Dempster's eldest daughter, who had died at sixteen, and of a lingering disease. The latter were faint, and almost inaudible to an unpractised ear, while those of his father were firm and distinct. There was never any power of knowing from what part of the room the raps would come, and as answer after answer appeared to come so readily to his questions, it is not to be wondered at that Francis felt excited and awed at the mysterious intercourse.
"Advise me, my father; tell me what to do if you see more and know than more I can do. Should I assist my mother, as she asks me to do?"
The single impatient rap, meaning "No," was the immediate reply.
"Is she not in poverty and want?"
Again the answer was "No."
"Should not I write to her?"
"No; have nothing to do with her," was the answer.
"Can I ever have what I most desire in the world? You promise improvement—I want happiness," said Francis, passionately, startled out of himself by the extraordinary pertinence of the answers to his questions, and careless in the company of absolute strangers as to what they thought of him.
"Patience! I watch over you," was the reply.
"What do you do in the spiritual world?"
"I am learning," answered the spirit, "from one who loves me."
"What is her name?" asked Francis.
The alphabet was in his hands; he was anxious not to let any sign of his give any clue in case of its being all imposture and extraordinary quickness of sight. He purposely passed over the letters, but was rapped back by the recognised signal till the name "Marguerite" was spelled out.
"Yes," said he to himself, "you think all is well in the end; you have met Marguerite in the spirit world, after being separated for a lifetime in this, and this is very sweet to you; but I want Jane now to help me to live worthily. Can I win her in this life?"
"After a time," said the spirit, rapping by the alphabet this answer to his inaudible question.
"You then can answer mental questions," thought Francis. "What connection can Mr. Phillips possibly have with Mrs. Peck, or rather Elizabeth Hogarth?" But to this inaudible question the spirit made no reply, and told him, through the medium, that he was disinclined for any further communication. Certainly it was a question which he felt conscious he had no right to put, after what Mr. Phillips had said to him. The spirit was in the right not to answer it.
"Are you convinced?" said Mr. Dempster, who had seen the surprise with which Mr. Hogarth had spelled out the answers.
"I am staggered," said Francis. "The general answers might have been given at random, but the names, I am convinced, were unknown to every one here except myself."
"It always is the names that convince people," said a friend of the host's.
"I have asked some questions as to the future," said Francis. "I do not know if it is allowable to do so. Do your spirits claim to have a knowledge of what is to come?"
"Oh, yes; they do—those of the highest class in particular," said Mr. Dempster.
"I do not see how they can," said Francis musingly. "To know the future is a prerogative of Omniscience, and even the highest created intelligence cannot tell what His purposes may be."
"How do we guess at the future with sufficient accuracy to direct us in the present but by generalization from experience? Now, a departed spirit certainly has had a wider experience—sees more into other souls and their workings than we can possibly do while encumbered with these robes of clay—and consequently can make a juster generalization," said Mr. Dempster.
"But not an infallible one?" said Francis.
"No; certainly not," said Mr. Dempster.
"But, as to the present, their views are sure to be correct?" said Francis.
"If they are good spirits, and not lying spirits. We prayed against their appearance, and I do not believe that the spirit who has been communicating with you was of that kind," said Mr. Dempster.
"How, then, do you judge between lying spirits and true ones?" asked Francis.
"By the nature of their communications. A false or an immoral message cannot be delivered by a good spirit."
"Then you still continue to be the judges of the spirits? You do not bow your morality to theirs—you select and reject as you see good?"
"Morality is universal and eternal," said Mr. Dempster. "Even God himself cannot make evil good or good evil by any fiat of his own."
"Then have these manifestations taught you anything that could not have been otherwise learned?" asked Francis.
"They have taught ME much that I could not have otherwise learned. I cannot say what other people may attain to through pure reason or through a simple faith in the revealed will of God. There are diversities of administration, but the same spirit," said Mr. Dempster, with a simple earnestness that weighed much with Francis. But here Mr. Dempster's attention was called to a message from an old friend who had just died one of the saddest of deaths, having been lost in the Australian scrub twelve years before.
These raps were still stronger than those of Mr. Hogarth, being violent, and following immediately on the question wherever a negative or affirmative was used.
Mr. Dempster said he had been a powerful young man, of the most unquestionable determination, and that the raps were always consonant to the character of the spirit when in life. He eagerly turned to identify him. The name was correctly given; the date of his death; the length of time he had existed without food and water, and the clothes he had on when he died. Then a message was sent to his aged mother, who had so long mourned for her youngest born, that he was expecting her soon to join him in the spirit land. The place where the old lady lived was mentioned, and her state of health was described as being bad.
"All perfectly true, perfectly true, Mr. Hogarth. Poor Tom! His was a distressing fate. I expected that we should have something good in manifestations this evening, but I scarcely looked for anything so perfectly satisfactory as this. Every name and every date exactly correct. Are you not convinced now?"
"I am certainly very much staggered," said Francis. "Have you been thinking much about your friend or his mother lately?"
"Not particularly that I know of; but I liked him very much, and I often think of his solitary death."
"Have you heard that his mother is in bad health?"
"She has been an invalid for years, and you heard her age; but we must make a note of the date, and ascertain if she is particularly worse to-night. I feel sure that there are not many days of this earth for her, and how blessed a thing it is that we have such an assurance of a reunion and recognition as these communications give to us."
When Francis got into the open air after the excitement of the evening, he was inclined to think that all had been a dream or a delusion, but the answer and the names recurred with startling significance; the difficulty and almost the impossibility of any cheat or collusion, and the apparent sincerity of all who had been sitting by him during the manifestations, increased the bewilderment of his mind.
"I must see Jane about this to-morrow," said he; "her clear head can perhaps solve this curious problem; but if I had not seen it, I would not have believed what I saw. Will she believe without seeing? Yes, she will receive my testimony, for I would receive hers. After a time I may hope to be happy. How long a time, I wonder?"
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