There was much to disappoint--much, in our experience at least, even to disgust--the seeker after truth in these séances. Still, in spite of a general easy method of pronouncing it all humbug, there were things which could not be explained. A light table might be tipped by visible hands if two people agreed, but how could a dining-table, so heavy that a servant could not move it alone, contrive to rise a foot from the floor, and then, when pressed downward with all the strength of which three stout men were capable, remain there, poised in air? But the strangest manifestations were cheapened by the gross impositions of some of the professional mediums. I distinctly remember the advent of a noted Spiritualist from Hartford who was to conduct a séance in a house where I was staying. He looked about the parlor with a critical air. "I don't see the right kind of a table here," he said to his host. "I supposed any table would do." "Far from it," was the reply. "The spirits require to be absolutely suited in all minor details before they will appear." In order to suit these fastidious visitants from the other world all the light tables in the house were produced. "This will do," said the medium, choosing one; and, sitting down and placing his hands upon it, he rocked it violently to and fro. "This will do," he said. He did not find it necessary to explain why he needed a table which his lightest touch could control. I distinctly recall the séance which followed. There was a small, rather pretty, lady present, with long curls on each side of her pale face. She averred that she was always accompanied by at least three spirits: they were in the habit of clustering like stars over her head. She also confided to us the grisly fact that when she retired to rest at night the headboard of her bed actually resounded with knockings. Sometimes she was even prevented from going to sleep, and was forced to expostulate with her visitors, who, when implored to be quiet, would come to her pillow, press it gently, and then subside. I also remember a noted medium of that day, a Mr. B----, who went from place to place accompanied by his daughter Virginia, a girl of nineteen, and, as I recall her, possessing remarkable beauty. Unlike Mr. Howell's hero, Mr. B---- was something of a charlatan. He boasted of his powers as a magnetizer, and would not admit defeat even in the face of failure. His daughter was his favorite subject, but, unlike Egeria, had no distinct powers of her own. I have frequently heard Mr. B---- say that he could call his daughter from no matter what distance. At such times he merely uttered her name and half closed his eyes. As soon as she could traverse the distance between her and her father Virginia was certain to enter, already in a magnetic sleep. Almost every one having first or last witnessed the phenomenon of magnetism, it is not worth while to dwell upon it.