For the past two years he had fitfully sought, or rather
persuaded himself that he sought, some clue through the sad labyrinth of
his fate. He had indulged in the most morbid conditions of his physical
organism; there was neither steadiness in his purpose nor firmness in
his action. He yearned for that proximity to hidden things, which, if
not forbidden to all men, yet is dangerous to most men. At length he
succeeded in freeing his soul from the weight of conscious intellectual
life which had become too heavy for it to bear. And while the Foxden
people were wondering about the occupation of a late pastor in one of
their churches, and inquiring of each other whether he would again speak
before them, their gossiping solicitude was suddenly set at rest.
Printed show-bills were posted about the streets: "Grand Festival of
Spiritualists at the Town Hall." "The Reverend Charles Clifton will
speak"--a line of largest type gloated upon the scandal--"IN A
TRANCE-STATE."
"I really ought to apologize," said Colonel Prowley, upon opening the
hall-door for my admittance, on the afternoon of the second Wednesday in
April, and this after repeated summons had been sounded by the brazen
knocker,--"I ought to apologize for keeping you here so long; but there
has been so much knocking about the house of late, and our cook and
housemaid having turned out to be such excellent mediums, taking just as
much interest in their circle down-stairs as we do in ours in the
parlor, and then Mrs.
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