When Peter knocked at the house of Mary, the disciples thought it was his angel, that is to say, they thought that a Spirit might come to the house and knock. They more easily believed that a Spirit was at the door, than that Peter had escaped from prison. We should in this age more easily believe the contrary. But the disciples were no philosophers. For the same reason she endeavored to dispel the fears of those who conversed with her. “Do not be afraid,” she would say, “I have not come to hurt you. You need not be afraid at all.” Utterly opposite, you observe, to the conduct of those who personate apparitions. They generally aim to keep their dupes in fear and at a convenient distance. So the angel addressed the shepherds, “Fear not.” “I do not stand too near you, do I?” said a person unsuspected. “No,” was the reply, “stand as near as you please.” Hence also the reason why she did not commonly begin to speak, till she was addressed. I say, _commonly_, for there were some exceptions. The voice of a Ghost responsive, is not so unexpected, and, of course, not so suddenly terrific as the same voice would be without previous address. This may serve to remove that objection of the Encyclopedia: “It is an odd circumstance, say they, that ghosts have no power to speak till they are addressed.” But this odd circumstance is not occasioned by their want of power; but by their tenderness for the persons who receive their messages. This was the very reason she once expressly gave for not speaking where she once appeared. Hence we may, if we choose, see one reason why she spoke so frequently in the cellar. It is easy to see, if we choose, that the idea of a Spectre coming into the room where the family commonly resided for labor, sleep, or other refreshment was distressing to them: for this was their refuge, their place of retreat. Accordingly when, upon a certain day, she appeared among them in one of the lower rooms, they all left the house. The Spectre, therefore, out of tenderness to them, _commonly_, though not always, conversed in the cellar, that they might seem to have a place of retreat. The next question is, why then did she not commonly speak in one of the chambers or in the open field? But the chambers were the apartments of repose, and the field was inconvenient by the weather. She did however, sometimes speak in the chambers, and in the lower rooms, and in other houses of the neighborhood, and several times in the open field. A cellar, such as that was, is a place where deceivers, imitating her realities would find difficulty. A ventriloquist might indeed speak there. But how? Not so that a part of the company shall hear and understand distinctly, while the other part with advantages of hearing every way equal, and giving equal attention, shall not understand a single word. If a ventriloquist could perform this, we should have known it before this time.