It was so easy to produce the magnetic sleep with Marie, that, once when she asked me to put her to sleep, I succeeded in doing so without having any other notions about such things than those I had gathered from our few seances; but I found it impossible to awaken her, and was obliged to send for the watchmaker, hoping he would help me out of my dilemma. He arrived, but his efforts were in vain. The somnambulist made fun of us, and teased the watchmaker about his _embonpoint_. This fact is to be noted, for it contradicts the current belief that the subject obeys the will of the magnetiser: but what follows reveals a phenomenon of vastly different interest. Marie ceased to speak in her own name. A spirit having taken possession of her will, declared that all our efforts to awaken the somnambulist would be useless. ‘I am quite comfortable here,’ said the spirit, ‘and it pleases me to stay. But at four o’clock, I am wanted elsewhere; the somnambulist will then awaken of her own accord. Have the patience to wait.’ At the hour mentioned, at the exact moment, the somnambulist returned to her normal state. From that day forth the somnambulist remained constantly under the influence of the spirits who took possession of her during her sleep. Thus, as soon as she was asleep, the spirit sometimes said, ‘I have only a few minutes to stay’; and when the time was up, Marie would awaken without any intervention. During these more or less lengthy conversations, the spirit took a fancy to calling me his son. His advice testified to a disposition of great benevolence, and was chiefly of a profoundly religious character. It is incontestable that, by an inexplicable phenomenon, Marie’s faculties were replaced, during these communications, by a spirit whose superiority it was impossible not to recognise, a superiority revealed by the tone of the discussion and the choice of expressions. Pressing him one day for an explanation, I resolutely asked him, ‘But who are you, then?’ ‘I am he, you wanted to receive with a loaded gun, when I knocked at your door at one o’clock in the morning.’ Remember the somnambulist was absolutely ignorant of this fact, as she was not in our service when the strange nocturnal visit occurred. As for the Virgin, she was not at a standstill all this time; she continued to turn five or six times every day. The good advice of the spirit, the purity of his principles, most certainly interested me; but I confess the statuette interested me more. Had I not a tangible, undeniable fact before me, just as stubborn as my reason tried to be? Stamping my feet I repeated, ‘And still she turns.’ Ever on my guard, even in face of evidence, I gave myself the satisfaction of imprisoning the Virgin, but in such a way as to be able to verify her evolutions. I had a niche of wire made, covered with transparent gauze, and, sealing it to the wall, I securely shut up the statuette therein.