I will add to the above but a few lines. After Fenimore Cooper, and his responsive friends in the Spirit life, had occupied the floor, so to speak, for a long time, calls upon him began to arise as to whether any of his answers were correct. Of course he alone could know, since they were in the form of raps. Old Dr. Francis, who had sat with his chin resting on his big cane, and his eyes intently fixed on Mr. Cooper, as had been the eyes of all the company, began knocking impatiently on the floor, which example was followed by others, as in the case of an impatient audience at a theatre. At last Mr. Cooper gave satisfaction to their curiosity, now wound up to a high pitch, by saying: "Gentlemen, every single answer has been correct." This was of course no small relief and satisfaction to us. And it was a still greater satisfaction when, after his death in September of the following year, I received a visit from Mr. Cooper's nephew, with a note from the great novelist, one of the last things written by his prolific pen, and a message from him on his death-bed, substantially as follows: "Tell the Fox family I bless them. I have been made happy through them. They have prepared me for this hour." CHAPTER XI. RETURN TO ROCHESTER. LETTERS AND NEWSPAPER ARTICLES RESPECTING OUR NEW YORK CAMPAIGN--LETTER FROM AMY POST--LETTERS FROM JOHN E. ROBINSON--ARTICLE FROM A SUNDAY NEWSPAPER--FROM THE NEW YORK DAY-BOOK--LETTER FROM DR. C. D. GRISWOLD--LETTER FROM JACOB C. CUYLER--ARTICLE BY HORACE GREELEY--POEM FROM THE SUNDAY DISPATCH. Such was our first campaign in New York, through all the hot months of that summer of 1850. Toward the close of September our friends, as well as ourselves, recognized the necessity for us of some rest and recuperation, and we decided to return to Rochester. But before being allowed to do so, our kind and devoted friends, Mr. and Mrs. Greeley, insisted on our spending a fortnight with them at their home in Nineteenth Street. We also spent a week with other friends at Greenpoint. But this did not afford much relief to our overwrought brains and bodies, because Mr. Greeley's hospitable house was a centre of visiting to the literary circles of New York, and Spiritualism and its manifestations, for the satisfaction of their visitors, were almost as much the order of our days as had been the case at Barnum's Hotel, among countless more. Bayard Taylor was at that period very earnest in his investigations, and was a daily frequenter of the house. At last we were suffered to tear ourselves away from New York; and ah, what sighs of relief we breathed when we got back to our dearly beloved Rochester, where we resumed our former happy domestic life, in which we all divided our days, going at pleasure to and fro, between my house on Troup Street and the farm, the homestead and father's house, now a sort of adjunct to the latter; every one of which dwellings was always an open house to any one of the family.