sitting exactly as the exhibitor himself has disposed them, credulous, if not already half-convinced, in a state of breathless expectation, squeezed together in the dark.
If my readers will really let their minds dwell on this combination for a moment, and if it does not tickle them, they must be deficient in a sense of humour.
“We must now,” says the writer, “have been in utter darkness, but for the pale light that came in through the window, and the flickering glare thrown fitfully over a distant part of the room by a fire which was rapidly sinking in the grate. We could see, but could scarcely distinguish, our hands upon the table. A festoon of dull gleaming forms round the circle represented what we knew to be our hands. An occasional ray from the window, now and then, revealed the hazy surface of the white sheets” (we presume this means, of the paper) “and the misty bulk of the accordion. We knew where these were placed, and could discover them with the slightest assistance from the grey cold light of a watery sky. The stillness of expectation that ensued during the first few minutes of that visible darkness, was so profound, that, for all the sounds of life that were heard, it might have been an empty chamber. The table and the window, and the space between the table and the window, engrossed all eyes. It was in that direction everybody instinctively looked for a revelation,” and thus, when even the instincts of the audience were in tune, there commenced the series of revelations which I am about to describe.
It is material to observe that, as we are told some time afterwards, Mr. Home himself was seated next the window.
“Presently the tassel of the cord of the spring-blind began to tremble. We could see it plainly against the sky, and attention being drawn to the circumstance, every eye was upon the tassel. Slowly, and apparently with caution, or difficulty, the blind began to descend; the cord was evidently being drawn, but the force applied to pull down the blind seemed feeble and uncertain. It succeeded, however, at last, and the room was thrown into deeper darkness than before.” The instrument by which this was affected was probably a strong pair of lazy-tongs, such as these in figs. 16 and 17, inserted at the side and under cover of the “thick curtains with which the windows were draped.”
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Fig. 16.
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Fig. 17.
I say, “inserted at the side,” because it is perfectly obvious, from the trembling of the tassel, that it was not employed to pull down the blind, for directly it was so employed it would tremble no longer. We are further informed that the blind was also raised as well as pulled down several times, a feat more quickly manageable, since, as we have observed, it was a spring-blind; and nothing would be easier than to pull the tassel of the spring which hung behind the curtains. The writer remarks the difficulty with which the blind descended, but he does not say as much with respect to its ascent. He then adds a candid and very significant statement, that, “capricious as the movement appeared, the ultimate object seemed to be to diminish the light.”
The writer intimates that their vision was becoming accustomed to the previous gloom, and forms of things were growing palpable, although they could see nothing distinctly. But after the light had been diminished (the spirits being apparently particularly solicitous on this point), “a whisper passed round the table about hands having been seen or felt.” . . . “Unable,” says the writer, “to answer for what happened to others, I will speak only of what I observed myself. The table cover was drawn over my knees as it was with the others;” in short the most convenient means was taken to preclude the detection of the agencies about to operate beneath the table. The writer then says that he distinctly felt a twitch, several times repeated, at his knee. “It was the sensation of a boy’s hand, partly scratching, partly striking and pulling me in play. It went away. Others described the same sensation; and the celerity with which it frolicked, like Puck, under the table, now at one side and now at another, was surprising.” The surprise, however, vanishes at once, if we ascribe these twitches, scratches, blows, pinches, and gambols to their obvious source—a pair of lazy-tongs worked by some person present, and in all probability by Mr. Home himself.
Let us first of all mark the obscurity in which practically his movements were shrouded. “Through the semi-darkness his head was dimly visible against the curtains, and his hands might be seen in a faint white heap before him:” that is to say, they were probably held one over the other, and there would be no visible diminution of the white heap if one of them were withdrawn,—at all events no diminution that could be detected at a sessions of inquiring spirits restricted to observations in a room so effectually darkened. If Mr. Home could extract his under hand, he could work the lazy-tongs beneath the table, especially as the table cover was so conveniently disposed as to cover even the knees of the easy inquisitors. I make the inference that the lazy-tongs were at all events employed by some one, and that Mr. Home was not operating by means of his feet, like his sister Mediums described in my former paper. All the circumstances mentioned here point unequivocally to the employment of this instrument. Some such construction as this in Figs. 18 and 19, would produce the twitches and the pulling; the scratching would be produced by its attempt to get a hold of smooth surfaces, as for example where the trowsers were strained over the knees, &c.; the