their places were filled by
persons whose temperaments disposed them to a passive seriousness. Among
these was a girl of sixteen, Miss Abby Fetters, a pale, delicate
creature, with blond hair and light-blue eyes. Chance placed her next to
me, in forming the ring, and her right hand lay lightly upon my left. We
stood around a heavy circular dining-table. A complete silence was
preserved, and all minds gradually sank into a quiet, passive
expectancy. In about ten minutes I began to feel, or to imagine that I
felt, a stream of light,--if light were a palpable substance,--a
something far finer and more subtile than an electric current, passing
from the hand of Miss Fetters through my own into the table. Presently
the great wooden mass began to move,--stopped,--moved again,--turned in
a circle, we following, without changing the position of our hands,--and
finally began to rock from side to side, with increasing violence. Some
of the circle were thrown off by the movements; others withdrew their
hands in affright; and but four, among whom were Miss Fetters and
myself, retained their hold. My outward consciousness appeared to be
somewhat benumbed, as if by some present fascination or approaching
trance, but I retained curiosity enough to look at my companion. Her
eyes, sparkling with a strange, steady light, were fixed upon the table;
her breath came quick and short, and her cheek had lost every trace of
color. Suddenly, as if by a spasmodic effort, she removed her hands; I
did the same, and the table stopped. She threw herself into a seat, as
if exhausted, yet, during the whole time, not a muscle of the hand which
lay upon mine had stirred. I solemnly declare that my own hands had
been equally passive, yet I experienced the same feeling of
fatigue,--not muscular fatigue, but a sense of _deadness_, as if every
drop of nervous energy had been suddenly taken from me.

Further experiments, the same evening, showed that we two, either
together or alone, were able to produce the same phenomena without the
assistance of the others present. We did not succeed, however, in
obtaining any answers to our questions, nor were any of us impressed by
the idea that the spirits of the dead were among us. In fact, these
table-movings would not, of themselves, suggest the idea of a spiritual
manifestation. "The table is bewitched," said Thompson, a hard-headed
young fellow, without a particle of imagination; and this was really the
first impre