Later, doubt was thrown upon the possibility of getting mental questions answered, and Planchette retorted:
‘Do you fancy for one moment that I don’t know the workings of your brain? That is not the difficulty. It is the impossibility—almost—of making two diametrically opposed magnetisms unite.’
After this rebuke, Mr. B. asked a mental question, and received the following answer:
‘I am impelled to say that if you will persevere in these investigations, you may be placed en rapport with your wife, who would undoubtedly communicate with you. If you have any faith in the immortality of the soul, you can have no doubt of the possibility of spiritual influences being brought to bear upon mortals. It is no new thing. Ever since the world began, this power has been exerted in one way or another; and if you pretend to put any faith in the Bible, you surely must credit the possibility of establishing this subtile connection between man and so-called angels.’
This communication was glibly written until within eleven words of the conclusion, when Planchette stopped, and I asked if she had finished.
‘No,’ she replied.
‘Then why don’t you go on?’ I continued. ‘I can write faster than this.’
Planchette grew exceeding wroth at this, and dashed off an answer:
‘Because, my good gracious! you are not obliged to express yourself through another’s brain.’