On the day following I found myself, with my new comrade, in a house in Coates street, where a ``circle'' was in the daily habit of meeting.So soon as I had been comfortably deposited in an arm-chair, beside a large pine table, the rest of those assembled seated themselves, and for some time preserved an unbroken silence.During this pause I scrutinized the persons present.Next to me, on my right, sat a flabby man, with ill-marked, baggy features and injected eyes.He was, as I learned afterwards, an eclectic doctor, who had tried his hand at medicine and several of its quackish variations, finally settling down on eclecticism, which I believe professes to be to scientific medicine what vegetarianism is to common-sense, every-day dietetics.Next to him sat a female-authoress, I think, of two somewhat feeble novels, and much pleasanter to look at than her books.She was, Ithought, a good deal excited at the prospect of spiritual revelations.Her neighbor was a pallid, care-worn young woman, with very red lips, and large brown eyes of great beauty.She was, as I learned afterwards, a magnetic patient of the doctor, and had deserted her husband, a master mechanic, to follow this new light.The others were, like myself, strangers brought hither by mere curiosity.One of them was a lady in deep black, closely veiled.Beyond her, and opposite to me, sat the sergeant, and next to him the medium, a man named Brink.He wore a good deal of jewelry, and had large black side-whiskers--a shrewd-visaged, large-nosed, full-lipped man, formed by nature to appreciate the pleasant things of sensual existence.
Before I had ended my survey, he turned to the lady in black, and asked if she wished to see any one in the spirit-world.
She said, ``Yes,'' rather feebly.
``Is the spirit present?'' he asked.Upon which two knocks were heard in affirmation.
``Ah!'' said the medium, ``the name is--it is the name of a child.It is a male child.It is--''
``Alfred!'' she cried.``Great Heaven! My child! My boy!''
On this the medium arose, and became strangely convulsed.``I see,'' he said--``Isee--a fair-haired boy.I see blue eyes--Isee above you, beyond you--'' at the same time pointing fixedly over her head.
She turned with a wild start.``Where--
whereabouts?''
``A blue-eyed boy,'' he continued, ``over your head.He cries--he says, `Mama, mama!' ''
The effect of this on the woman was unpleasant.She stared about her for a moment, and exclaiming, ``I come--I am coming, Alfy!'' fell in hysterics on the floor.
Two or three persons raised her, and aided her into an adjoining room; but the rest remained at the table, as though well accustomed to like scenes.
After this several of the strangers were called upon to write the names of the dead with whom they wished to communicate.
The names were spelled out by the agency of affirmative knocks when the correct letters were touched by the applicant, who was furnished with an alphabet-card upon which he tapped the letters in turn, the medium, meanwhile, scanning his face very keenly.
With some, the names were readily made out.With one, a stolid personage of disbelieving type, every attempt failed, until at last the spirits signified by knocks that he was a disturbing agency, and that while he remained all our efforts would fail.Upon this some of the company proposed that he should leave; of which invitation he took advantage, with a skeptical sneer at the whole performance.
As he left us, the sergeant leaned over and whispered to the medium, who next addressed himself to me.``Sister Euphemia,'' he said, indicating the lady with large eyes, ``will act as your medium.I am unable to do more.These things exhaust my nervous system.''
``Sister Euphemia,'' said the doctor, ``will aid us.Think, if you please, sir, of a spirit, and she will endeavor to summon it to our circle.''
Upon this a wild idea came into my head.
I answered: ``I am thinking as you directed me to do.''
The medium sat with her arms folded, looking steadily at the center of the table.
For a few moments there was silence.Then a series of irregular knocks began.``Are you present?'' said the medium.
The affirmative raps were twice given.
``I should think,'' said the doctor, ``that there were two spirits present.''
His words sent a thrill through my heart.
``Are there two?'' he questioned.
A double rap.
``Yes, two,'' said the medium.``Will it please the spirits to make us conscious of their names in this world?''
A single knock.``No.''
``Will it please them to say how they are called in the world of spirits?''
Again came the irregular raps--3, 4, 8, 6;then a pause, and 3, 4, 8, 7.
``I think,'' said the authoress, ``they must be numbers.Will the spirits,'' she said, ``be good enough to aid us? Shall we use the alphabet?''
``Yes,'' was rapped very quickly.
``Are these numbers?''
``Yes,'' again.
``I will write them,'' she added, and, doing so, took up the card and tapped the letters.
The spelling was pretty rapid, and ran thus as she tapped, in turn, first the letters, and last the numbers she had already set down:
``UNITED STATES ARMY MEDICAL MUSEUM, Nos.3486, 3487.''
The medium looked up with a puzzled expression.
``Good gracious!'' said I, ``they are MY LEGS--MY LEGS!''
What followed, I ask no one to believe except those who, like myself, have communed with the things of another sphere.
Suddenly I felt a strange return of my self-consciousness.I was reindividualized, so to speak.A strange wonder filled me, and, to the amazement of every one, I arose, and, staggering a little, walked across the room on limbs invisible to them or me.It was no wonder I staggered, for, as I briefly reflected, my legs had been nine months in the strongest alcohol.At this instant all my new friends crowded around me in astonishment.Presently, however, I felt myself sinking slowly.
My legs were going, and in a moment I was resting feebly on my two stumps upon the floor.It was too much.All that was left of me fainted and rolled over senseless.
I have little to add.I am now at home in the West, surrounded by every form of kindness and every possible comfort; but alas!
I have so little surety of being myself that Idoubt my own honesty in drawing my pension, and feel absolved from gratitude to those who are kind to a being who is uncertain of being enough himself to be conscientiously responsible.It is needless to add that I am not a happy fraction of a man, and that I am eager for the day when I shall rejoin the lost members of my corporeal family in another and a happier world.
End
