No white garments can appear white in a dark cellar at midnight, and suppose any lucid substance could have been used, then, when it first appeared a mere shapeless mass, who formed it in a moment into personal shape, face and features? Who caused it to speak and desired to be handled? and when this desire was complied with, why did not the hand undeceive the eyes? Now admit the possibility of a magic lantern, where did it move, and where stood the upright plane for the representation, when by the order of the Spectre, the company of about twenty persons formed an Ellipsis within which she passed and re-passed from end to end several times. You must inform me too how some eyes saw the form so clearly, while others with advantages of sight every way equal, saw nothing. However, it is not even pretended that any such mediums of delusion were ever seen here. For an argument which vindicates this conduct of the Spectre still more, I am indebted to Professor Stewart. “It appears to me to be no slight confirmation of these remarks,”[13] says he, “that, although in the dark, the illusions of imagination are much more liable to be mistaken for realities, than when their momentary effects on the belief are continually checked and corrected by the objects which the light of day presents to our perception; yet even total darkness is not so alarming to a person impressed with vulgar stories of apparitions, as a faint and doubtful twilight, which affords to the conceptions an opportunity of fixing and prolonging their existence by attaching themselves to something which is obscurely exhibited to the sight.” Hence it follows, that in a dark cellar at midnight, a person was not so much exposed to deception, either by his own imagination, or by the artifice of others, as if there had been some degree of light. Had the ghost been wholly confined to a cellar, kitchen, or garret, or even to all these, the objection would appear more plausible; but this was by no means the case. Accompanied by two persons she walked, or rather moved in elevation from the ground, nearly two miles, discoursing with them as they went along. “For what purpose?” you ask. Doubtless an important one. But to what purpose could I tell you; while you reject the possibility of it for any purpose. This little journey was soon published through the town, but was no more believed than this luminous age now believes the writer. What was the consequence? “Go,” said the Spectre, “to one of those two persons, collect all those in the neighborhood, who give the best evidence of piety and veracity. Let them hear and see: for they will tell the truth.” He complied, and fifty people were convened at the time and place appointed for the interview.