This was not the only new influence which entered into and increased the tumult of my mind.  The other half of my two-sided nature—­the cool, reflective, investigating faculty—­had been gradually ripening, and the questions which it now began to present seriously disturbed the complacency of my theories.  I saw that I had accepted many things on very unsatisfactory evidence; but, on the other hand, there was much for which I could find no other explanation.  Let me be frank, and say, that I do not now pretend to explain all the phenomena of Spiritualism.  This, however, I determined to do,—­to ascertain, if possible, whether the influences which governed me in the trance state came from the persons around, from the exercise of some independent faculty of my own mind, or really and truly from the spirits of the dead.  Mr. Stilton appeared to notice that some internal conflict was going on; but he said nothing in regard to it, and, as events proved, he entirely miscalculated its character.

I said to myself,—­“If this chaos continues, it will drive me mad.  Let me have one bit of solid earth beneath my feet, and I can stand until it subsides.  Let me throw over the best bower of the heart, since all the anchors of the mind are dragging!” I summoned resolution.  I made that desperate venture which no true man makes without a pang of forced courage; but, thank God!  I did not make it in vain.  Agnes loved me, and in the deep, quiet bliss which this knowledge gave I felt the promise of deliverance.  She knew and lamented my connection with the Spiritualists; but, perceiving my mental condition from the few intimations which I dared to give her, discreetly held her peace.  But I could read the anxious expression of that gentle face none the less.

My first endeavor to solve the new questions was to check the abandon of the trance condition, and interfuse it with more of sober consciousness.  It was a difficult task; and nothing but the circumstance that my consciousness had never been entirely lost enabled me to make any progress.  I finally succeeded, as I imagined, (certainty is impossible,) in separating the different influences which impressed me,—­perceiving where one terminated and the other commenced, or where two met and my mind vibrated from one to the other until the stronger prevailed, or where a thought which seemed to originate in my own brain took the lead and swept away with me like the mad rush of a prairie colt.  When out of the trance, I noticed attentively the expressions made use of by Mr. Stilton and the other members of the circle, and was surprised to find how many of them I had reproduced.  But might they not, in the first place, have been derived from me?  And what was the vague, dark Presence which still overshadowed me at such times?  What was that Power which I had tempted,—­which we were all tempting, every time we met,—­and which continually drew nearer and became more threatening?  I knew not; and I know not.  I would rather not speak or think of it any more.