`like to know if there are any of my folks here," and then sat down. Another long pause ensued. She then rose again, and to the great amusement of all present, said to the medium, "Will you please go through the death-scene of brother Robert? He was drownded and it will be a great test!"

my

The only incident of any importance that occurred during these little gatherings was the repetition of the statement that William was a great medium. He had always been delicate, and as he possessed at this time very indifferent health, he was advised to go to the backwoods of Maine for change of air. On the first night of his arrival at the little country village where he had been sent, he held a séance. It was a very extraordinary ⚫one. This was repeated every night, and all the country people came to attend these little circles for miles around. He was often asked, while walking in the street, to come in and tell some anxious inquirer "about the dead people," and such satisfactory tidings were generally given about them that interest and curiosity rapidly increased. Among others who were drawn around him, was Mr. George Worcester, the son of a celebrated Swedenborgian clergyman, who used to join the circle, and was the only one present who possessed any insight into the nature of a gift which excited little more than curiosity and wonder in others, but which interested him for its own sake. He suggested to the spirits controlling the boy that they should give lectures at the school-house, and they consented to the proposal. The first intimation he had of the scheme was while walking in the village, when he saw a card in the window of a store, stating, much to his

surprise, that "Willie Fletcher would lecture at the school-house on Sunday morning and afternoon." When the day came, however, he went, or rather, was taken, for on the appointed morning, instead of awaking as usual, he was thrown into a trance, carefully dressed by the controlling spirits, and led to the school-house, where some thirty persons were assembled in a little, unpretending low-roofed building, in which the village children learnt. their alphabet. It was a motley group. Dresses of all kinds and colours prevailed, and the little assemblage inaugurated the service conducted by spirit-influence by upraising the strains of good old Dr. Watts' hymn, commencing

"Hark from the tombs a doleful sound";

which, strange to relate, was considered an eminently appropriate one for the occasion. The subject of the discourse was then selected by the audience, which was more fortunate in its themes than in its songs, the choice falling upon the beautiful verse-"In my Father's house are many mansions." On this the young trance-speaker delivered a lecture which lasted an hour, and was attentively listened to, and he only became aware of what he had done at its close, when he was speedily aroused from his unconscious condition. That this long sermon was appreciated is proved by the fact that the congregation decided, without a single exception, to wait for the next service, when a fresh theme was chosen with similar good results, and William Fletcher descended from the little platform feeling that he had accomplished something, he hardly knew what, and with his heart full of a longing for some little token of appreciation and

sympathy, he accosted a motherly-looking old lady, and asked her "how she liked it." She candidly replied that "she didn't know anything about it"; but by way of shewing her gratitude for sitting through two discourses, she put her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a Boston cracker, which she handed to the youthful preacher. So sensitive was his nature even then to the kindness and love of those with whom he came in contact, that he has often said since that his heart was more touched by that quaint token of sympathy in the little village school-house, than by the diamonds presented to him in after years.

Shortly after this he gave a second lecture in trance, which lasted about an hour and a half, and which was preceded by the singing of a psalm, hardly less inappropriate than the celebrated ditty of Dr. Watts,

viz. :

"My days are as the grass."

The subject was again chosen by the audience, which was also once more as felicitous in its texts as it was unhappy in its hymns, the grand prophetic passage being selected" Old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new."

From this time, about the year 1869, William, although barely seventeen, instantly sprang into notoriety, and received invitations to lecture in various places, most of which he was compelled to decline on the ground of his health.

One incident may be mentioned in connection with his mediumship remarkable for its oddity. While in the backwoods of Maine, the mother-in-law of one of his

acquaintances died of dropsy. Her body was deposited in a very large coffin, made by a carpenter retiring from business, and designed for the reception of his own. William was earnestly requested to attend the funeral, and give an address on the occasion, and accordingly he set out through the shady woods, which were very beautiful and secluded, disturbed by no sound louder than the singing of the birds, the flight of the squirrel from bough to bough, and the sudden splash of the leaping trout as it darted at a gnat on the surface of the stream crossing the little pathway. With his spirit attuned to the harmony of the scene, such harmony as seems to exist only in places far from the haunts of men,-he arrived at his destination. It was a curious change. Three elderly women met him on the threshold of the house, swinging tansy on that hot day when every breath of pure air was beyond price. On entering the apartment where the people were assembled, he found them all sitting around it in solemn expectation, with their shirt-collars starched, their trousers starched, even their pockethandkerchiefs starched, and all likewise swinging tansy. Outside in the yard, and exposed to a burning July sun, lay the coffin, and in full view of this dolorous spectacle, and in the midst of the circle of friends, was placed an arm-chair stuffed with pillows, into which William was conducted and sank till he was nearly eclipsed. As may be supposed, the ordeal of this funeral oration was one from which he would willingly have excused himself, but a courageous spirit rose to the occasion and spoke through his lips with a power more effectual than the tansy, the starch, and the pillows of state in which his body nearly experienced suffocation. He could

not help being keenly alive to the ludicrous side of the scene in which he was invited to play a part, and to this hour he alludes to it with smiles.

Although he declined much of the work that was placed before him, he saw a large number of persons, sometimes as many as fifty or sixty a day, and effected some remarkable cures by spirit-power, literally healing the sick, the lame, and even the blind. As he did not derive as much benefit from the change which had been recommended as was expected, no doubt, in part, owing to this sudden development of his mediumship and the various demands upon it, he returned to his father's house in the close of September, and from thence went to visit some relations in Concord, New Hampshire. While in that place he was directed by spirit-influence to apply for a hall to lecture in, which he was told would be given to him. He did so, and his request was at once granted by the owner with singular kindness. His lectures were advertised in the local papers, and on the first night, to his surprise, the hall was crowded, and many persons were turned away, unable to obtain entrance. This first public address was one of his most successful efforts, and was very favourably spoken of and reported by the press, and a gentleman, who was present, was so deeply interested that he made an engagement with the young trance-speaker to lecture twice in the neighbouring town. Great success attended the meetings, and with his name already marked in connection with powerful and eloquent speaking, Willie returned home. By this time the spiritualist journals had taken up the matter, and he found awaiting him more engagements than he could fulfil.