spiritualism as any part of my personal belief.  In particular, it seems to me quite an inconclusion to give to the spirits of the dead, or to any other existences, good or evil (unless, indeed, by possibility to ourselves as magnetically and sympathetically influenced by some metaphysical potencies whereof we know next to nothing), the seemingly miraculous powers exhibited, however weakly and childishly, in numberless seances, privileged to possess among the company an ecstatic medium between (as is assumed) themselves and beings immaterial.

The little I have seen and heard shall, however, now, upon a reasonable call, be related simply and honestly, without any theory beyond what is parenthetically alluded to in my last sentence, and with no attempt at explanation, but only the expression of this truth, viz., that no collusion apparently was possible (according to my judgment) in any of the following manifestations, and that I promise only to state plain facts, however, others may seek to expound them.  Of course, where cunning and dishonesty may contrive conjuring tricks it is not worth while to treat such “manifestations” seriously, but I speak of what seemed to be genuine, if trifling, marvels.

To begin, then, with my earliest experience, written down the same evening, and sent to the Brighton Gazette, from which I give an extract.  The date is Thursday, January 25th, 1849; the host, the late Mr. Howell, of Hove; the performer, Alexis, pupil of M. Marcillet, who accompanied him.  After clairvoyance, induced by passes, Alexis is blindfolded carefully, and then, with the host’s own pack of cards, wins blindfolded at games of ecarte with myself.  Next, a French book, brought by an incredulous physician, was placed open upon the forehead of Alexis, who read aloud some lines of it.  This experiment, with variations, was several times repeated.  The third was my own test.  I had sealed up something unknown to all the world but myself in twelve envelopes of white paper.  Alexis, placing the parcel on his forehead, in broken and difficult enunciation, said “it was writing, two names, both commencing with M; one of them an English name, the other French, or some language not English; that the first contained four letters, the second six (being really nine),” but he failed to give the names, which were Mary Magdalene.  It was suggested that if they had been written in French his mind might have more easily discerned them.  After this, several locks of hair and sealed-up parcels, watches, and lockets, were (with some unsuccessful attempts) guessed at, seemingly to the satisfaction of the ladies and gentlemen who had respectively brought them for explanation.  The last experiment regarded a large bon-bon box covered up, in which the host himself had concealed a mystery.  Alexis described it as wrapped in several folds, graven all round, oval, a portrait of a young person of eighteen, but done a long time ago, set in gold, “femme habillee en blanc; elle est morte, la tete au droit.”  In all these respects the object was faithfully described, in particular to the “long time ago,” which, by a date on the portrait, was found to be 1769.  And there were some other experiments, but Alexis, as appearing to be well-nigh worn out with mental exertion, was then mercifully unmesmerised.