writing, appended to that fac-simile of the original music, of which I have given two lines on page 416:

"This is a correct fac-simile from the sheet of music paper which I found on my bed, the morning of the fifth of May, 1865. The air and the words are truly those which I heard in my dream.

"N. G. BACH."

In addition, M. Bach (in reply to a suggestion of mine which some men would have deemed importunate) did me the favor to send me a letter, dated March 23, 1867, in which he says: “I attest the existence of the parchment, still in my possession, containing the verses composed by the king and addressed to the celebrated musician, Baldazarini; and that it was found in a secret compartment of the spinet which the king had given him ;. and also that the communication announcing the existence of the parchment, and stating that it had been placed there, is, in every point, the exact truth. I add that the photographs of the spinet and of the parchment, and the reproduction of the autograph of the music and words, are well executed and perfectly exact.'

Such is the case in all important details. It is for the reader to decide whether, under the circumstances, the supposition of imposture is tenable.

What motive? Nothing whatever to gain, in a worldly sense. Much to risk and something to lose. To risk misconception, suspicion, perhaps the allegation of monomania; perhaps the charge of conspiracy to palm off on the world a series of deliberate, elaborate forgeries; forgeries involving a sacrilegious deception, seeing that there is question of sacred things connected not with this world only, but with that which is to come. Thus, to risk the loss of a character earned by the consistent integrity of a long and honored life. More certainly still, to attract importunate visitors, perhaps impertinent questioners, and thus to break up that domestic quiet so dear to a cultivated and studious sexagenarian.

432

THE SUPPOSITION OF FRAUD

But if character and all imaginable motive did not give the lie to any such suspicion, the circumstances are such that the theory of fraud is beset with extreme difficulties. The friend to whom I owe my documents showed the original of the song to Monsieur D, one of the greatest harmonists of the day and quite a thesaurus of musical lore. This gentleman examined it critically, and declared to my friend that it was so exactly in the style of the epoch that it would require not only a great musical genius, but the special studies of a lifetime, to produce such an imitation. Monsieur D——, lacking faith in spirit intercourse, did not pretend to explain the mystery, but simply said that, though M. Bach was a meritorious musician, he regarded it as absolutely impossible that he should have composed the song.

*

Again, if composed by him, it must have been suddenly, in a single night, without chance of reference to old authorities. Whence, then, the coincidences between the words of the song and the incidents in the life of Henry III. and of Marie de Clèves?

Every allusion has been verified, except that to the distant hunt (chasse lointaine): and-let Sadducism smile at my easy faith in the unseen-I confess my belief that if I had opportunity to consult the library of the British Museum, or, better yet, the Bibliothèque Impériale, I could verify that also.

Add to all this the minor peculiarities to which I have already adverted. Would any one, concerting a plan of forgery and similated prediction, be likely to contrive the variations between the predicted stanza and the original? or the inclosed [ma], with its explanation? or the si, apparently a blunder, yet proving correct? or even the variations in spelling the musician's name?-most natural, if we consider the uncertain orthography of that day, but how unlikely to be planned? Again, it is only by inference and after long search that I con

My Paris informant tells me that M. Bach never wrote a verse of poetry in his life.

INVOLVES VIOLENT IMPROBABILITIES.

433

clude the words "triste et cloistrés " to be in exact accordance with the facts: how remote the chance, then, that M. Bach, during that mysterious night, should have acted upon a similar conclusion?

Yet again if the communication indicating the hiding-place of the parchment be a forgery, then M. Bach must have found the parchment, without any directions as to its whereabouts, before the spinet was sent to the Retrospective Museum. Is it within the bounds of probability that the surprising discovery of such an interesting document should have been studiously kept concealed from every one, the spinet sent off under false pretences to the Museum, and then the communication concocted as an excuse to send for the instrument again and institute a pretended search?

I do not think that dispassionate readers will accept such violent improbabilities. But if not, what interesting sugges tions touching spirit-intercourse and spirit-identity connect themselves with this simple narrative of M. Bach's spinet!

19

CHAPTER III.

A BEAUTIFUL SPIRIT MANIFESTING HERSELF.

MORE than forty years ago there died a young English lady, whom I knew intimately. She had enjoyed all the advantages of the most finished education that her country affords; spoke French and Italian fluently, had travelled over Europe, there meeting many distinguished persons of the day. And she had been favored by nature as much as by fortune. amiable as accomplished, gifted with strong affections, great simplicity, and a temperament eminently spiritual and refined. I shall call her Violet.*

She was as

When, twenty-five years after her death, I first instituted researches in Spiritualism, the thought crossed my mind that if those who once took an interest in us during earth-life, were permitted still to commune with us when they had passed to another phase of being, Violet's spirit, of all others, might announce itself to me. But I have never, on any occasion, evoked spirits; deeming it wisest and best to await their good pleasure. And when month after month passed away and no sign came, I had quite ceased to expect it, or to dwell upon such a possibility.

I can scarcely express to the reader my surprise and emotion when, during a sitting held October 13, 1856, at Naples (Mrs. Owen and one other lady, not a professional medium, being present), the following incidents occurred.

THE PROMISE KEPT.

The name of Violet was suddenly spelled out.

After my

* Her true baptismal name (a somewhat uncommon one), which I dc not feel justified in giving, is, like that with which I have replaced it, typical of a favorite flower.

AN OLD PROMISE KEPT.

435

astonishment had somewhat subsided, I asked mentally, with what intent a name so well-remembered had been announced. Answer.—“ Gave pro—'

There the spelling stopped. Repeated invitations to proceed were unavailing: not another letter could we obtain. At last it occurred to me to ask: "Are the letters p, r, o, correct?” Answer. "No."

Question. "Is the word 'gave' correct?

Answer.—“ Yes."

over

Then I said: "Please begin the word after 'gave again:" whereupon it spelled out, now and then correcting a letter, the sentence:

"Gave a written promise to remember you, even after death."

I think that no human being except such as have been unexpectedly brought, as I was then, almost within speech of the next world and its denizens, can realize the feeling which came over me, as these words slowly connected themselves. If there was one recollection of my youth that stood out, beyond all others, it was the reception, from Violet, of a letter written in prospect of death and containing, to the very words, the promise which now, after half a lifetime, came back to me from beyond the bourn. Such evidence as it was to me it can be to no one else. I have the letter still; but its existence was unknown except to me: it has never been seen by any one. How little could I foresee, when I first read it, that, after a quarter of a century, in a far, foreign land, the writer would be enabled to tell me that she had kept her word!

A few days afterward, namely during a session held on October 18, the same spirit having announced herself, I obtained, to various mental questions, replies characterized by the same pertinency and exactitude as are above evinced; the subjects of my questions being of a private character and the true replies being known to me alone. There was not a single failure; and, in the course of these replies, allusions were made to