from their earliest days have never called me anything but "Mother," whilst "Florence," who left me before she could speak, constantly calls me "Mamma." This fact alone could never have been known to Miss Pawley. Added to which the portion written by my eldest daughter was in her own clear decided hand, whilst "Florence's" contribution was in rather a childish, or "young ladylike" scribble. The lines ran thus. The italics are Florence's:-- "My own beloved mother. _My dear, dear, dearest Mamma._ You must not grieve so terribly for me. _And knowing all we have taught you, you should not grieve._ Believe me, I am not unhappy. _Of course not, and she will be very happy soon._ But I suffer pain in seeing you suffer. _Dear Mamma, do try to see that it is for the best._ Florence is right. It is best! dear Mother. _And we shall all meet so soon, you know._ God bless you for all your love for me. _Good-bye, dear, dearest Mamma._ Your own girl. _Your loving little Florence._" I cannot comment on this letter. I only make it public in a cause that is sacred to me. To instance another case of mediumship which is exercised for neither remuneration nor applause. I am obliged in this example to withhold the name, because to betray their identity would be to ill requite a favor which was courteously accorded me. I had heard of a family of the name of D---- who held private sittings once a week, at which the mother and brothers and sisters gone before materialized and joined the circle; and having expressed my desire, through a mutual acquaintance, to assist at their _séances_, Mr. D---- kindly sent me an invitation to one. I found he was a high-class tradesman, living in a good house in the suburbs, and that strangers were very seldom (if ever) admitted to their circle. Mr. D---- explained to me before the _séance_ commenced, that they regarded Spiritualism as a most sacred thing, that they sat only to have communication with their own relations, his wife and children, and that his wife never manifested except when they were alone. His earth family consisted of a young married daughter and her husband, and four or five children of different ages. He had lost, I think he told me, a grown-up son, and two little ones. William Haxby, the medium, whom I wrote of in my chapter "On Sceptics," and who had passed over since then, had been intimate with their family, and often came back to them. These explanations over, the _séance_ began. The back and front parlors were divided by lace curtains only. In the back, where the young married daughter took up her position on a sofa, were a piano and an American organ. In the front parlor, which was lighted by an oil lamp, we sat about on chairs and sofas, but without any holding of hands. In a very short time the lace curtains parted and a young man's face appeared. This was the grown-up brother. "Hullo! Tom," they all exclaimed, and the