he for a time believed in the Cock-lane Ghost.
Does anybody believe in the Cock-lane Ghost
now? I will not venture to say that there are
not some believers still left; for it is an
ascertained fact that in the year 1851 there were several
congregations who met to worship God in the
name of Joanna Southcott. It is quite possible,
therefore, that some of the disciples of Mr.
Home may believe that the Cock-lane rappings
were produced by the spirit of the "murdered
Fanny."

As the spirit-rapping delusion is still rampant,
and as men of "high intellectual attainments"
continue to believe in it, and not only to
believe in but to teach it to the people as a sacred
truth, it may be of some service, as a warning
to the credulous who have not yet wholly
surrendered their reason and their common sense
to this egregious folly, if we devote a few pages
to a review of some of the religious impostures
which have run their course and been exploded
in times past.

But before repeating this twice-told tale, we
will advert for a moment to some angry
denunciations which have been levelled against an
article entitled "At Home with the Spirits,"
which recently appeared in this journal. In
that article it was stated that Mr. Home had
sent a circular to his friends begging them to
support his lecture, as "much of his fortune
must depend upon the issue of the experiment."
It is complained, in the first place, that it was
a violation of the rules of privacy to publish a
private circular, and in the second that the
writer substituted "fortune" for "future."
Now, as to the first point, it could be no violation
of the rules of privacy to publish what had
already appeared in a daily paper; and as to the
second, the word " fortune" was simply a
misprint of the journal from which the passage was
copied. Let us see how the appeal stands in
the authentic circular which has been sent to
us for our correction and reproof:

"Much indeed of my own future must depend
upon the issue of this experiment."

At the end of this appeal there is a notification
that tickets for the lecture, price half a
guinea and five shillings, may be obtained
either from Mr. Home or his agent. Now,
what is the meaning of "future" here? Do
Mr. Home's friends pretend that he meant his
state in the world to come? Scarcely, I think;
for the purchase of his tickets could not affect
that, unless his object was to obtain money to
pay for masses for his soul. Then it must be
his future in this world. And what do we all
understand when a man talks about his
"future"? Do we not understand him to mean
his prospects in life, his means of existence—
in point of fact, his "fortune"—money?
Where, then, is the essential difference between
"fortune" and "future"? Our statement that
Mr. Home distributed bills among the audience
is denied with an amount of indignation which
it is difficult to account for. It is a matter of
no importance whatever whether he did or did
not distribute bills. We can only suppose that
the point has been laid hold of in order, if
possible, to convict the writer of a wilful
misstatement that might prove him unworthy of
credit as to all the rest. It is, however, a
most unfortunate circumstance for the denial
that several persons can testify that Mr. Home
handed about among his friends pieces of paper.
Perhaps they were not, strictly speaking, "bills."
As to Mr. Home's repudiation of mercenary
motives, we may simply state that he himself has
admitted that he received twenty-five pounds
for his services on the occasion.

In the history of impostures and popular
delusions it will be found that objections have
invariably been answered by the same kind
quibbling. Trifling matters, not essential to the
inquiry, have been substituted for the true issue,
and exposure has been met with the most
impudent denials.

As showing how certain forms of imposture
repeat themselves, we will go back a century, to
the Cock-lane Ghost. At the present time, a
"quantity" of people are running after mediums
who pretend to receive communications from
departed spirits by means of knocks on tables.
A hundred and four years ago, the credulous
were beguiled by an imposture of the very same
nature. It was spirit-rapping then; it is spirit-
rapping now.

At the beginning of the year 1760, there
resided in Cock-lane, near West Smithfield, in the
house of one Parsons, the parish clerk of St.
Sepulchre's, a stockbroker named Kent. The
wife of Kent had died in childbirth during the
previous year, and his sister-in-law, Fanny, had
arrived from Norfolk, to keep his house for him.
Kent and his sister-in-law conceived a mutual
attachment of what is called "a tender
nature," and each made a will in the other's
favour. They lived together for some months
in the house of Parsons, who, being a needy
man, borrowed money of his lodger. Some
difference arose between them, and Kent left
the house and instituted legal proceedings against
Parsons for the recovery of his money. While
the matter was pending, Miss Fanny was taken
ill of the small-pox, and, after a few days' illness,
died. She was buried in a vault under Clerkenwell
Church. Parsons began to hint that poor
Fanny had come by her death unfairly, and that
Mr. Kent was accessory to it from his too great
eagerness to obtain her money. Meantime,
Parsons had been sued by Mr. Kent for the
borrowed money, and had been made to pay.
Shortly after the termination of the action, a
story was spread about the neighbourhood of
Cock-lane that the house of Parsons was haunted
by the ghost of poor Fanny, and that the
daughter of Parsons, a girl about twelve years
of age, had several times seen and
conversed with the spirit, who had informed her
that she had not died of the small-pox, as was
currently reported, but of poison administered
by Mr. Kent. In answer to inquiries, Parsons
declared that his house, ever since the death of
Fanny, had been troubled by a mysterious
knocking at the doors and in the walls. In