and then the male medium addressed the spirits
thus: "Now, don't all knock at once, but be
patient, and speak one at a time; you'll all have
your turn." The spirits, thus rebuked, retired
all but one, who was very willing to answer
questions, but unfortunately always answered
wrong. This spirit could not be persuaded to
give a plain straightforward answer; but would
go gabbling on with any number of knocks when
he was required to give only two or three. On
trying to bring this spirit under control, I found
that the table slipped too readily, and that it
was difficult to stop the raps at the required
number. The medium tried another modus.
Addressing the loquacious spirit, he said, "Will
you hanser questions by tipping the table—
three tips for yes, and two tips for no." The
table tipped three times, signifying that it would
hanser the questions. I distinctly saw Mrs.
Wallace tip the table by drawing it towards her
with her fingers. I stopped her at will; and I
noticed that she could only tip the table when
it was balanced upon two feet. When she
wished to vary the direction in which the table
was required to tip, she moved the table round
either to the right or the left. The spirits
answered readily with the tips; but oddly
enough, they were always wrong. I never saw
guess-work so uniformly a failure.

A more miserable, wretched, stupid,
weak-minded imposture, it never has been my fate to
see. I think Mrs. Wallace was sensible of her
failure to impress us with the tapping, for it
seemed in a sort of desperation that she resorted
to the hand manifestation. While her hand
was dancing St. Vitus's dance, she snuffled and
soffed, and appeared to be in a fit. Some one
making a funny remark while she was in the
midst of this performance, she burst into a
laugh in spite of herself, and St. Vitus left her
instanter.

For the extraordinary scene that followed, I
am in no way responsible. I was not privy to
the design, and I was as much astonished and
perplexed as the mediums themselves. One of
the party asked a question with solemnity
and anxiety. Mrs. Wallace, in the usual manner,
tipped the table three times, and (this
I will grant), with my assistance, sent it spinning
into the questioner's lap. Hereupon the gentleman
covered his face with his hands, sobbed,
howled, kicked over the tables and chairs,
seized the medium by the collar, dragged him
to the ground, and there rolled over and over
with him, apparently in a struggle to the death.
All this time—and the gentleman manifested
during full five minutes—Mr. Ferguson was
adjuring the spirit, by all sorts of sacred names, to
"come out of this man." But the spirit did not
come out of this man until every article of furniture
in the room had been upset, and until Mr.
Ferguson's shins had been well kicked, and the
male medium nearly strangled. What was the
object of this manifestation I don't know,
unless it was to add force to the verdict which
we unanimously passed upon the performance
of "Mr. and Mrs. Wallace, the celebrated
mediums," which was, that their so-called
spiritualism was an impudent, barefaced imposture,
clumsy in the last degree, and audaciously
blasphemous. We accompanied this finding with
a honorarium of two shillings a head, making in
all sixteen shillings. Not a bad afternoon's wage
for such work.

That Mrs. Wallace practised the imposture
knowing it to be an imposture, I am
certain. I am not so sure about her
husband. I am inclined to think that he believed
in it to some extent; that he was in some
measure the dupe of his wife; but that he
was not unwilling to practise trickery himself
when what he believed to be spiritual influence
failed.

I made an appointment to witness a séance
conducted by another famous medium; but on
arriving at the place of meeting, I encountered
my old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace. The
other famous medium, it was said, had reasons
for not keeping the appointment, and had sent
Mr. and Mrs. Wallace as substitutes, that a
stroke of business might not be lost to the
fraternity. This is organisation, I suppose.
The second séance with the Wallaces was even
more stupid than the first. They could do
nothing but tilt the table, and when I asked
(mentally) if Mr. Wallace was a humbug, the
spirit tilted yes; and again tilted yes when I
asked if Mrs. Wallace was not the greater humbug
of the two. It occurred to me to inquire
how these people could so constantly subject
themselves to exposure, and persist in a foolish
exhibition which I and others there present
had already denounced. I had a full answer to
this when I made a motion of leaving without
paying. Both mediums stopped in the middle
of their conjurations, and looked round at me
with an unmistakable demand for money. Which
is the root of all evil.

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