The Missing Link in Modern Spiritualism

Margaretta had been pitched, as it were, in an instant, up the two flights of stairs. The reader may refer to the next story for a somewhat similar way of being carried up stairs which once befell mother and myself.

THE DEATH OF ISAAC T. HOPPER.

Hon. John W. Edmonds met occasionally with a private party, numbering from twelve to sixteen persons, nearly all singers of a choir belonging to a church in this city. This was my first private party formed after my settlement in New York, in 1852.

The rules of the party were to meet at precisely eight and close at ten o’clock. Judge Edmonds came and went as he pleased, often to the annoyance of the party through the interruptions thus produced. He came in one evening about nine o’clock and took his seat in silence. The party were singing their sweet anthems, and all seemed drawn together in harmony. At the close of the singing our attention was suddenly called to a peculiar sound in the extreme corner of the room. Mr. Bostwick was secretary of the circle. I have his minutes of it, which differ materially from Judge Edmonds’ account, written from memory by Dr. Dexter, and published in his book.

I here give it exactly as it occurred.

This singular sound signaled the alphabet, which I called, and the following message was given to us all:

“My Dear Friends: I am free from all suffering and anxiety. I am re-united with the beloved partner of my youthful days.

“Isaac T. Hopper.”

Judge Edmonds exclaimed, “Gracious Heavens! can this be true? I have been with him from noon until seven o’clock this evening; and when I left him he seemed likely to live a month.” Then, taking a small pamphlet from his pocket, he said, “I read this to him; he listened attentively and expressed his opinion upon it favorably.” He then said, “Mrs. Brown, can’t you send one of your girls around to see if this is true?” I said “No, Judge; I could not send my girls out at this hour of night.” The party all cried out, “No, Judge; go yourself. We will await your return.” He went, and was gone about an hour.

When the door-bell rang we sat in breathless silence. The Judge paused in the door-way a moment, then solemnly, and with trembling lips, said, “When I got there he had been dead an hour.”

WILLIAM M. THACKERAY.

Mr. Thackeray during his stay in New York visited my public séances, but never asked questions in a crowd. His course of investigation was unlike those of all others. The first visit he made he sat and listened to the sounds; and when his turn came to ask questions, he politely asked me to accept his arm and walk with him through the parlors (fifteen minutes were allotted to each visitor) and he said, “You must be weary by this time. Do your investigators always tax you as they have this evening?” I told him I considered this party very little trouble in comparison to most others. The raps followed us as we walked, and were heard by all in the room. He apparently paid little attention to the sounds as we walked. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the room, and said to me: “I have read much of your family, and the persecution you have been subjected to; and the various expositions of the wise ones; but they have not been able to convict you.”

The rappings became tremendous, and the floor trembled beneath our feet. They were made all about the room and on the furniture. I invited him to call during my private hours, which he subsequently did, and conversed with the Spirits freely.

When he bade me good-by for the last time, he expressed pleasure at having met us, and thanked me for my kindness in permitting him to visit us during our private hours. He expressed himself delighted with his visit, and said he was thoroughly convinced that no earthly power could make the sounds as he had heard them: and he laughed heartily at Dr. Flint’s theory of the knee-joints. Though compelled to restrain the public expression of it in the Cornhill Magazine, of which he became editor, it is certain that Mr. Thackeray was a full Spiritualist, even though not one of those bolder Spirits among men who feel, and live up to, the duty of proclaiming to the world, cost what it may, the divine and regenerating truth which has been received into their own souls. But great difficulties, it must be confessed, stood in his way. The bigotries of his country and times made it impossible for him, under the necessities of a profession wholly dependent on the favor of public opinion, to go further than he did, while it is certain that he was too noble and true a man ever to cater to those bigotries by a word of depreciation of Spiritualism.

“WITCH STORIES.”

I.

Amy Emmet, a well-known character in Rockland County, N. Y., was reputed a witch. And I have been told by a perfectly reliable gentleman of many strange things which occurred in the case of an own sister of his, who is still living. She (his sister) would roll over the floor, like a hoop, for a long time; and, when relieved from such terrible control, would lie helpless and nearly exhausted.

My parents and grand-parents knew her and believed her to be possessed by evil powers.

II.

Mary Treadway was a little girl; a playmate of my mother. She suffered greatly under the power of some evil influence. She would scream and say, in terror, “See her! See her!—Now she’s pinching me.” Then, apparently for saying so, she would be stoned nearly to death. She would be black and blue all over after being pinched, covered with bruises, and often hit in the face with stones tied up in rags. Her mother made a deep pasteboard sun-bonnet, hoping that the poor child might be relieved by wearing it; but the stones would hit her in the face just the same, even when she would bend her face down near the ground to avoid them. Mother saw the stones strike her, apparently coming from the mirror. After having been troubled in every possible way, she suddenly became completely covered with a living mass of vermin.

Her parents were well-to-do, respectable, cleanly people. Her tormentor died, and she recovered.

GEORGE THOMPSON.

“Mrs. A. L. Underhill:

“Dear Friend—Having learned that you are about to publish a somewhat detailed account of your experience in connection with the phenomena of Spiritualism, and fearing that you might not remember an occurrence which took place at your house on Troup Street, in the city of Rochester, N. Y.—I think in 1849, when George Thompson (the English abolitionist) came to this country to lecture against slavery—I take the liberty of referring to it.

“While lecturing in Rochester, he expressed a desire to witness something of what he had heard so much about.

“Mrs. Kedzie and myself, with a few other friends called on you. After being seated around a table, the rapping indicated that many Spirits were glad to manifest to him.

“Mr. Thompson took a seat on the opposite side of the table from you, and commenced asking questions by writing them. A very warm friend of his, who had travelled extensively with him in India and elsewhere, purported to be in communication with him. Many incidents of their travels were recalled to his memory by the Spirit. I distinctly remember one question which Mr. Thompson asked orally. It was this. ‘What was the present which you sent to my wife from India?’ Answer, ‘A cashmere shawl.’

“Afterward we asked Mr. Thompson if his answers were all satisfactory? He replied promptly, ‘They were quite right, quite right.’

“The fact in this case was, that the questions put, and answers given, were not known to you or any one present, or in the United States of America; and all the answers given were ‘quite right.’

“Will sceptics explain, satisfactorily to themselves and others, how this is done?

“John Kedzie.
“New York, June, 1884.”

A CHILD’S LETTER.

Letter from a child eight years old. I insert this letter from a darling little child partly for love of her, but chiefly because she soon after, as I have been informed, developed, without any instruction, into a splendid musical medium.

“Newark, O., July 20, 1851.

“My Dear Fish:

“I promised to write you a letter, and I have a few words to say to you, it is not very long; and I hope you are well, and I send my love to you all. I think that I’ll never forget you. I wish that you’ll never forget me. We are all well and the baby has three teeth. Now you must come back, we all want to see you.

“I hope that Mr. Brown is better. You must remember your promise to me. I have been looking anxiously for a letter from you. I hope you will excuse me, for this is the first letter I’ve ever written before. Tell Maggie that she must not forget her promise to me.

“My dear Fish, I love you very much. I want to say something to you but I don’t know what. The fields are green, the woods are grand, and home is dear to me, but I would give a year for one sweet month to talk with the Spirits. O I would clap my hands for joy. Mr. Blackman has acted the part of a coward. He has not the independence of a man to come out and publish the truth like a gentleman. I would have sent you one of his papers if they had pleased me.

“Good-bye, my dear Fish.

“Louise Mooney.”

EXTRACTS FROM DANIEL UNDERHILL’S MINUTE BOOK, BEARING DATE JUNE 5, 1862.

“While Leah and myself, with a few friends, were sitting at the table conversing, the following communications were spelled out:

“‘There must be some desperate struggles before the Union army can hold the Rebellion under control. Then many treacheries will be perpetrated through the semblance of peace; after which many new and arbitrary enforcements will be carried into effect, so that the difficulties cannot be determined for some time. Rebellion is among you everywhere, and the only curb is the law and the right to control. Even your leading journalists are not reliable, and their loyalty is speculative.

(Signed)     “‘Red Jacket.’”

“‘No more peace; no more love; no more truth; all is gone. My spirit sorrows, my light grows dark, my hope fails, and my form no more appears on earth among my tribe. My feather gone, my axe dull, my arrow broke, and my hand no more pull the string. My eyes no more take aim. My work to do, and I no power.

“‘Great Spirit make pale-face look up where help can come, and then we will fly through air in cars of fire, to call the light and heat down to wake up the love, hope, charity, and faith which have no power now, to conquer in the war of hatred, envy, and rebellion.

“‘I have spoken.
(Signed)       “‘War Eagle.’”

EXTRACT FROM COMMUNICATION PURPORTING TO COME FROM D. UNDERHILL’S FATHER.

“If every grain of sand on the sea-shore were a dime, and every dime should be doubled at every second, it would not be half the value to you a few years hence, that one evening’s sitting with your guardian Spirit will be to you when you are as I am now.

(Signed)     “Levi.”

PRACTICAL JOKES PERFORMED AND REBUKED.

Though it is my rule not to introduce trifling incidents which were constantly occurring to us in our domestic privacy, yet, finding them in my private papers of 1849, I will here insert the following two because it occurs to me that it may have had a significance intended as a lesson to me.

One evening, being for a wonder without callers, Maggie and I thought we would have a little fun at mother’s and Cathie’s expense. (Mother was very easily disturbed by any unusual manifestations.) It will be seen that, though we began it for our fun, the Spirits took it soon out of our hands and carried it out themselves in pretty strong earnest.[23]

Maggie went into the parlor bed-room, and I laid down on the sofa. She took a cane and I a shell from the table to rap with. I precautionally placed matches near me in case of need. She rapped once (with the cane) upon the ceiling, but before I could make any attempt at using my shell the house was in an uproar. The piano was violently sounded, the match-box rattled against the ceiling. I called to Maggie to know if it was she who was pounding the piano so violently. Mother cried out, “God have mercy on us!” She saw a very tall man—or the form of one—standing in the open doorway, and recognized him as her father. Mother was so frightened that she started up, and as she did so tore down the window-shade, which let in the light of a bright moon. I was unceremoniously seized upon and lifted through a circular aperture in the ceiling (large enough to admit four small pipes, leading from the parlor stove into a sheet-iron drum in the room above, in which Calvin slept). (See diagram on page 209.) I was there held suspended for several minutes by two iron hands (as they seemed to me), the one felt icy cold, and the other almost burning hot. Calvin, in bed in the room above, lay quietly listening to the uproar, but made no remark. I entreated him to come down to us, but he positively refused, saying, “No, you have raised the Devil, and must take the consequences.”

This uproar continued all night, and people gathered around the house to listen to it. We found, by experience, that nothing we could do in our attempt at a little fun played off on mother, would equal the performances of the Spirits at our expense.

The second of these private domestic incidents, designed perhaps for rebukes and lessons, was as follows:

To make this story understood, it will be necessary to describe the situation of the old homestead. The public road runs north and south; and both houses face eastward. The old house stands about two hundred yards from the road, surrounded by trees. Father’s house (which was being built at the time he was living in Hydesville) stands near the road, with ample yard room surrounding it. When turning into the lane, there is a slight descent until you reach a little bridge, called the “Tell-tale Bridge,” over a small stream, which in wet seasons runs through the vale; after which you gradually ascend until you reach the level on which the main buildings stand. It is called the Tell-tale Bridge because the hoofs and wheels always announce the approach of visitors.

It was Sunday evening. A party of David’s friends drove over from Newark to have a séance with the Spirits. It was decided that they should hold their meeting at mother’s, with the girls (Maggie and Katie). I remained at David’s, with Uncle John, Calvin, and the children—the youngest being a babe ten months old. My brother and his wife joined the party. Uncle John suggested that some refreshments would be acceptable and help to while away the time. By the time we got through supper it was near twelve o’clock, and the hired man came home belated. The servant girl was tired, and all save myself retired for the night. The baby fretted for its mother, and I walked the floor with him until he fell asleep. Still there were no signs of the adjournment of the party. I could hear the sounds distinctly, and concluded they had entirely forgotten to notice the time (it was then two o’clock). So I slipped on the hired man’s coat and hat and ran down, to learn if there were any intimations of the party breaking up. I did not wish to be observed. The night was lovely, and the moon shone brightly; and my only refuge of concealment was a few shocks of sweet corn left standing between the window and the fence. They could have seen me through the window if they had looked out from the sitting-room in which they were holding their séance. I procured a number of small stones and practised throwing very successfully, hitting the mark between the windows a little distance from them. Having thus acquired confidence in my aim, I threw one larger than the others, which went through the window crashing the glass into fragments. A general scream broke from all in the room. I ran down into the hollow near the bridge, and hid in the tall, wet grass, knowing well enough that mother would soon be out to explore the grounds. I heard her say, “I do not believe that a Spirit did it. I know it was some of those good-for-nothing, mean coon hunters; they have heard us, and they have done this to annoy us.” Then father said: “They have no business to throw stones through the windows. If that stone had hit any one, it might have proved a serious thing.”

I shuddered, and was thankful it was no worse. Mr. Codding said, “No, Mrs. Fox, I think you are mistaken. I heard several electric explosions just before it hit the window.” (Those were my smaller pebbles.) Father said, “Do you believe a Spirit threw that stone through the window? If it was a Spirit it was an evil one.”

By this time they were all out in the yard looking for the culprit, and not more than twenty feet from where I lay cowering in the long grass wet with dew. As soon as they all re-entered the house I ran for dear life, doffed my hat and coat, and jumped back into the bed with the baby. I had lain there but an instant when the most terrific rumbling explosion went through the house, shaking it to its foundations and waking every sleeper. I have never witnessed, before or since, such a manifestation. Uncle John rushed to my room, saying, “In heaven’s name, what has happened?” The parties from the other house came in and related what had happened there; but I was so shocked by the manifestation just made that I found no difficulty in suppressing my laughter. I had been well punished for my folly. I had not intended to carry the joke so far, and I prayed to be forgiven. I did not dare to confess. I knew it would not do at that time, as the public would have regarded us as impostors, and this as a specimen of our tricks. I suffered alone for my sin. I heard them discuss the matter frequently. One day, full fifteen years afterward, my brother was giving me his opinion, saying, “Leah, I do believe that was a mischievous Spirit that threw the stone and smashed father’s window.” I looked at him quizzically, and said, “Yes Dave, I believe it was too.”

He caught me by the hand and said, “You did it! you rogue. I know you did!”

I confessed, and we have had many a hearty laugh over it since; but I had not ventured to confess it to the family for fifteen years.

A PROPHETIC DREAM.

On pages 76-77 above, in the chapter devoted to the “Mediumistic Vein in our Family,” is given an account of my aunt, Mrs. Elizabeth Higgins, having seen a prophetic vision, miscalled “dream,” which nearly nine years afterward was actually enacted over her grave, which now speaks for itself in the cemetery of Sodus, Wayne Co., N. Y. I omitted there to mention another instance in which she “dreamed” of a strange event, some weeks in advance of its actual occurrence. I was a child at the time, but perfectly remember it, besides its having often been talked about in the family.

When the family migrated from the city of New York to Sodus, Wayne County, N. Y., it had been intended to go by the canal. Grandfather had preceded the removal of the family by about a year. One morning Aunt Bessie (afterward Mrs. Higgins) announced that, “We shall not make our journey by water.” “Why not?” asked her mother. “Because I dreamed last night that we travelled by land, and there was a strange lady with us. In my dream, too, we came to Mott’s tavern in the Beech Woods, and they could not admit us because Mrs. Mott lay dying in the house. I know it will come true.” She always felt that certainty in regard to certain dreams. “Very unlikely indeed,” was the reply, “for but a year ago, when you stopped there, Mr. Mott’s wife lay dead in the house.” “You will see.” “Then he must have married again, and he will lose his second wife.”

Every particular came to pass as she had predicted. Mrs. Johnson, a stranger to the family at that time, accompanied them. By a change of plan they made the journey by land, as by that means (by grandfather’s orders) they took the horses (three teams) to use in the new home in the “West.”

When they reached Mott’s tavern, late in the evening, they were told they could not be accommodated, as the house was full, and Mrs. Mott was dying. Bessie said to the clerk, “I was here just one year ago to-day, and Mrs. Mott lay dead in the house.” He replied, “Mr. Mott was married two months ago, and it is his second wife who is now dying.” It was arranged, however, for them to stay in the adjoining house, owned by Mr. Mott and occupied by his son.

Referring back (see page 75) to my great-grandmother’s visions of phantom funerals (sometimes more than a year in advance of their actual occurrence), I desire to add that such pre-visioned funerals were not of persons whose age and state of health might have suggested such anticipation, but that they were of persons of all ages, and on two occasions the deaths were by accident, namely, by drowning and by a fall from a house.

In the case of Mr. Urie (page 82), the runaway that caused his death was not that of a single horse, but of a high-spirited span of horses. The mistake was an accidental one made by a copyist.

I may add, generally, in regard to many of the strange occurrences related in this volume, there are witnesses still living who can attest the correctness of my statements.

JAMES A. GARFIELD.

One of the most pleasant of my reminiscences of our Ohio campaign, about three and thirty years ago, is my intercourse with the great and good man whose honored name heads this paragraph. He was a frequent visitor to my séances, to which he used to bring also members of his family and friends. He combined, with his eminent intelligence, culture and love of the truth, great geniality of temperament and manners. He was a convinced and warm Spiritualist, and his autograph name is a frequent one in my register.

Not a few also of the representatives of foreign countries visited us at Washington and New York, and were surprised to receive communications in their several languages.

To the above array of the Author’s “Miscellaneous Incidents” I will add one of recent occurrence, for the sake of the evidence which it involves of two points, namely,

First, of the reality of Mrs. Underhill’s still continued mediumship;

And secondly, of the interest really taken by her controlling Spirits in this work of hers.

In the course of our united labors over it, extending through a period exceeding four months, there have arisen a number of occasions on which we have differed over various points of expediency in regard to the arrangement and treatment, the insertion or suppression, of her voluminous materials or notes, and have discussed them freely, with some tenacity of opinion on both sides, while with reasonable candor and openness to conviction, certainly on her side. She has generally maintained that her Spirits had “impressed” and directed her so and so (the chief of them seeming to be Dr. Franklin and her grandfather), and a Spirit claiming to be Dr. Franklin has sometimes intervened in these discussions, either voluntarily or on being appealed to by us. I will describe one of these occasions, to afford the reader the opportunity of judging for himself of the genuineness of this Spirit intervention in these friendly discussions between two mortals still in the flesh, both of them actuated by an equal sincerity of zeal for the truth and for the good of humanity.

We were sitting in her library, on the opposite sides of a library table. The only other person present was a most highly estimable friend of hers, lending her his friendly aid in copying, who was seated some seven or eight feet off. Both of her hands were on the table. My knee was suddenly grasped by a strong, firm hand, evidently to call my attention. “Is this you, dear Dr. Franklin?” I asked. “Yes,” was the reply given by three pressures of the hand which held my knee strongly between its thumb and fingers. I did not doubt the Spirit to be what he claimed to be, and I asked his opinion on the point in question. He usually addressed me as “my son” or “my dear son.” He did not habitually seem to impose his will, but rather to give his opinion, which I must say was generally on the lady’s side, and to which I generally conformed, even when saying that I still thought differently.

Presently I felt my knee again grasped in the same way, but this time by what was evidently a smaller and a female hand. It proved to be that of my “sister Mary,” of whose existence Mrs. Underhill knew nothing. Her object was to tell me to write to another sister, Adelaide (still in the flesh, and at some three thousand miles of distance) because, as she said, the latter was “distressed and suffering” on account of my recent silence (for which there had been special reasons causing procrastination). Of these private family names and matters, Mrs. U. had no means of knowing anything. Her hands, I repeat, were on the table, and there was no human agency through which, in either of the two instances, the grasping of my knee could have been caused. The knowledge of my private family matters goes far to prove that in the one case it must have been really done by my sister (a Spirit), and this identification of her in the one case goes far to confirm that of the other as Dr. Franklin, both having in the same way declared who they were.—Ed.

CHAPTER XXXII.

ACTION OF SPIRITS THROUGH THE MEDIUMSHIP OF A FIVE-MONTH’S-OLD INFANT.

Various Manifestations around the Baby—Writing in Greek through his Hand.

In the preceding Chapter VI., I have mentioned some marvels about the infant mediumship of my little nephew, the elder of Cathie’s two boys, Ferdinand Diedrich Loewenstein Jencken. Since the writing of that chapter and its consignment to unchangeable type, I have come across a copy of a newspaper which had got mislaid and was supposed lost, the London Medium and Daybreak, of May 8, 1874. The possibility of such things as were mentioned on my pages 89 to 95 having been done through the dear little fingers of a babe in arms, must have been hard to many readers to believe or to realize; though it ought not to be so difficult to those who pause to reflect that it was not those five-months-old fingers that thus acted, but the force and the will of Spirit powers controlling and guiding them. For the double purpose of supporting what I have written and of carrying still farther the marvellousness of this perfectly attested case, I now quote from page 290 of the Medium and Daybreak the following article, which, on its face, bears the direct testimony of Mr. Jencken himself and of J. Wason, Esq., a respectable English solicitor. Of Mr. Jencken’s unimpeachable authority enough has been said on page 90.

From the London Medium and Daybreak, May 8, 1874, p. 290:

MEDIUMSHIP OF A BABY.

“A brief account, for which we are indebted to Mrs. and Mr. Jencken, of the progress of their infant boy, may not be uninteresting to the Spiritualistic public. We hence render it, ipsissima verba, as received by us.

“The baby medium, whose writing we have had engraved, was born on September 19, 1873. Of a sensitive and delicate organization, great difficulty was felt in preventing the life-cord snapping during the first few weeks of his existence. Care and a good nurse, however, saved the little fellow, who is now a healthy, blue-eyed baby, with a singularly well-formed head and large forehead.

“Six weeks after his advent, the wet nurse complained of constant noises, resembling gentle knocks or taps. These were at first ascribed to rats or mice; finally, the truth could not be resisted, and the gentle rappings on the doors of the wardrobe, on the iron head-rail of the bedstead, were admitted to be by unseen beings. On the 16th of November last, Mr. Jencken, desirous of testing the fact of the medial powers of his boy, obtained distinct raps and messages, holding his little boy near to a small round pedestal table. Soon afterward the alarmed nurse related how luminous hands had been seen by her making passes over the baby; the rappings increasing in intensity; shadowy forms had likewise been seen moving from the hearth to the bed. A whistling sound then attracted attention; whispered words and other mysterious manifestations were observed. On one occasion, during the absence of Mrs. Jencken, a Spirit-form opened the door of the nursery, entered, and left the room all but immediately, quietly gazing at the little boy with luminous eyes.

“During the month of December, small articles were frequently taken from the nurse; on one occasion a shadowy form appeared bending over the bed on which the nurse and baby were lying. Terribly frightened, the nurse grasped the child to leave the room; soft echoes, however, warned her not to fear. On December 16th, shortly after Mrs. Jencken arrived at Brighton, the little fellow uttered his first spoken words—‘Ma-ma, darling ma-ma’—much to the alarm of the nurse. On February 2d, the little fellow was carried by a Spirit-form from the nursery, on the same landing, to the door of the drawing-room, where Mrs. Jencken, who had been impressed to go to the door, received him into her arms.[24] A half-suppressed cry of anguish from her informed Mr. J. Wason and Mr. Jencken what had happened. On entering the bed-room the nurse was found asleep on the bed. During the whole of this time the rappings continued. On one occasion a halo of light was observed to surround the baby’s head, finally enveloping his whole form. On other occasions clear luminous rays of light were noticed to stream from the eyes of the baby. On March 6th, he wrote for the first time. This was done in the presence of Mr. Wason, whose account is now published. A few days subsequently, two sentences were written by the baby medium, under the following circumstances: Mr. and Mrs. Jencken were seated at the dinner-table, the nurse with the baby occupying an armchair some eight or ten feet off. Suddenly a pencil was seen between the fingers of his hand. ‘Ah, he is going to write,’ exclaimed Mrs. Jencken, and placed a sheet of paper on the nurse’s knee; his little tiny hand then moved rapidly, and wrote the words:

“‘I love this little boy, God bless
his Mamma.      J. B. T.
“‘I am happy.’

Shortly afterward the pencil was again placed in his hand by an invisible agency, a sheet of paper fluttered through the room and settled on the nurse’s knee; the little fellow then wrote:

“‘I love my Grandmamma,’

signing the paper with a mark the late Dr. Jencken used to employ when on earth. The paper and pencil were then jerked into the middle of the room. Since then, owing to Mr. Jencken’s strong objection to any tests being applied, no further writings have been obtained. The rappings, however, continue, so also that strange luminosity of the eyes, so intense at times as to alarm his mother and nurse. Numerous letters have been received by Mr. Jencken from different parts of England, Holland, Russia, and other places, asking him to test this marvellous power of his little boy, who, not six months old, has written messages; but to all these applications the answer has been a polite refusal, the medical gentleman attendant having warned the parents against any trial of strength of this singularly gifted child.

“In conclusion we may repeat the prophecy respecting this boy, which prediction was spelt out at the house of Mr. H. P. Townsend, New York, some five years ago, the message received then being to this effect: that Kate Fox would go to Europe, marry, give birth to a child, whose medial powers would be unexcelled; so great indeed would they be, that compared to her child the mother would be a mere cipher. Jocosely, for years afterward, Kate Fox was called the cipher in the house of Mr. Townsend. Thus far this prediction has been verified. If this little fellow be allowed by Providence to attain to years of maturity, he may perhaps verify all that the Spiritual beings, who foretold his birth within ten hours of its occurrence, have foreshadowed.

“Dear Mr. Burns:—The sentence signed ‘Susan,’ photographed [and now reproduced in our engraving.—Ed. M.], was written through the hand of the infant boy, aged five months and fifteen days, of Mr. and Mrs. Jencken, on March 6th last, at No. 5 Lansdowne Terrace East, Brighton, by invisible agency, in my presence and that of Mrs. Jencken and her nurse, the pencil having been placed in the baby’s right hand by invisible agency, when I caused a memorandum of the fact to be written at once as a record, and afterward had the writing by the baby’s hand and the memorandum with the signatures of the witnesses photographed, and I send you a copy of the whole, which you are at liberty to publish in the Medium, together with this letter, if you think fit. The circumstances under which the photographed document was written are as follows:

“Mr. and Mrs. Jencken and the child were taken from London to Brighton for the benefit of Mrs. Jencken’s and the baby’s health, and they had been, on March 6th before mentioned, at Brighton over three months; and I was at this time their guest, or rather sharing their lodgings with them. Mrs. Jencken’s and the baby’s health improved, but Mr. Jencken became seriously ill at Brighton; violent nervous headaches with neuralgia and a general derangement of the stomach and digestive organs. I told him I thought his travelling from his chambers in the Temple to the lodgings in Brighton—105 miles daily, which, by calculation, showed he had travelled over 8,000 miles while at Brighton within four months—was the probable cause of his illness; but he took a different view, and consulted his friend, a German physician of note, who agreed with him that these rapid journeys daily were not the cause of his ill-health. I contended that a German M.D., however able, had no experience as to the effect on health of daily long journeys by cab, omnibus, and railway, but I could make no change in Mr. Jencken’s view. On the day in question, viz., March 6th last, baby’s nurse was holding baby on her lap in the parlor, by the fire, about 1.30 P.M. I was writing at a table near. Mrs. Jencken was in a room adjoining and opening into the parlor, the door between being half open. Suddenly the nurse exclaimed, ‘Baby has a pencil in his hand!’ She did not say that the pencil had been put into the baby’s hand by invisible agency, and I having had experience of babies clutching my finger pretty tightly, took no notice, but continued my writing. Nurse almost immediately after exclaimed, ‘Baby is writing!’ in a still more excited voice, which drew Mrs. Jencken’s attention, and she rushed into the parlor to the nurse and baby, and this roused me, when I got up and walked to the nurse, and looking over Mrs. Jencken’s shoulder, I saw the pencil in the child’s hand and the paper under it with the writing as photographed.

“I may add that ‘Susan’ was the name of my departed wife, who was remarkably fond of children, and her Spirit (as is believed) had on several occasions previously manifested itself by writing and by raps through Mrs. Jencken, who, before her marriage, as most of your readers are aware, was the celebrated American medium, through whose family at Rochester, U. S., the truths of Spiritualism (now so stupendous) were first manifested.

“The value will now be seen of the advice given by ‘Susan’ to Mr. Jencken, ‘to go back to London,’ which Mr. Jencken did, and almost immediately recovered his usual health and strength, which are those of a strong, healthy man.

“Hoping your readers may take the same interest in this anecdote that you do, and that it may conduce to increase the interest felt in Spiritualism, believe me, sincerely yours,

“J. Wason, Solicitor.
“Wason Buildings, Liverpool.”

SPIRIT WRITING.

“Photograph of a Sentence written in Greek characters by Direct Spirit-Agency, without the Intervention of a Human Hand, at H. D. Jencken, Esq.’s, Rooms in Brighton, February 28, 1874.

“Paper (marked by a sceptic with his initials) and a pencil were placed on the table, all the circle (one sceptic and five Spiritualists) joining hands; lights extinguished, a scratching noise, as of a pencil writing on paper, was heard. On the candles being relighted, the sentence, as photographed below from the original writing, was found written on the initialed paper. Time occupied, about five minutes. Present—One sceptic, Mr. and Mrs. Jencken, Mr. James Wason (of Liverpool), and two other parties of respectability, who were for Spiritualism ‘when in her silver slippers and walking abroad with applause, but not when in rags and tatters;’ they did not wish their names to appear.

“Facsimile of the photographed writing.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

“THE MISSING LINK.”

An Improvisation.

BY MRS. HELEN J. T. BRIGHAM.