faculty would naturally connect itself with these wishes, and the
question could not fail to occur whether it might not aid me in the
execution of my favourite plan.

A thousand superstitious tales were current in the family.
Apparitions had been seen, and voices had been heard on a multitude
of occasions. My father was a confident believer in supernatural
tokens. The voice of his wife, who had been many years dead, had
been twice heard at midnight whispering at his pillow. I
frequently asked myself whether a scheme favourable to my views
might not be built upon these foundations. Suppose (thought I) my
mother should be made to enjoin upon him compliance with my wishes?

This idea bred in me a temporary consternation. To imitate
the voice of the dead, to counterfeit a commission from heaven,
bore the aspect of presumption and impiety. It seemed an offence
which could not fail to draw after it the vengeance of the deity.
My wishes for a time yielded to my fears, but this scheme in
proportion as I meditated on it, became more plausible; no other
occurred to me so easy and so efficacious. I endeavoured to
persuade myself that the end proposed, was, in the highest degree
praiseworthy, and that the excellence of my purpose would justify
the means employed to attain it.

My resolutions were, for a time, attended with fluctuations
and misgivings. These gradually disappeared, and my purpose became
firm; I was next to devise the means of effecting my views, this
did not demand any tedious deliberation. It was easy to gain
access to my father's chamber without notice or detection, cautious
footsteps and the suppression of breath would place me, unsuspected