Dr. Dryport answered that he supposed the table must have been one that had been used at Exeter Hall, and probably acted under influence from that quarter—of a mechanical nature. He should think that one of the parties touching the table was a very zealous Protestant.
We inquired if there would be any harm in our trying if tables would move by the imposition of our hands? He replied that there could be no doubt that they were moved by an imposition practised by hand, but if we had any, there was no objection to our making the experiment. We, therefore, chose twelve honest men, constituting, in fact, a British jury, and got them to lay their hands on a substantial dinner-table, which presently began to move. The following dialogue ensued:
"Where are the head-quarters of despotism? Are they in England?" There was no movement. "Are they in France?" A violent movement. "Are they in Austria?" A tremendous movement. "Are they in Russia?" The table jumped and bounced, and tumbled from side to side in such a manner that one might have imagined that a quantity of brandy and water had been spilt upon it and made it furiously drunk.
"Do you know Old Nicholas?" The table capsized, went right over; completely upset.
After that, what question can there be about the "agency" concerned in Table-moving? Dr. Dryport, however, will have it that Mr. Godfrey and Mr. Gillson have not been having communication with evil spirits, and that whatever those gentlemen may say for themselves, they are no conjurors.
"Manchester is the portico of the great Temple of Peace."—Cobden.