“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.