The Missing Link In Modern Spiritualism Part 12

"I was pleased with the account of your ramble in Hoboken, but wish you had taken some other day for the excursion, as the one in question always brings there such a crowd of the 'lower ten.' I hate crowds!

though even in them there is a difference. Commend me to a ma.s.s of Sunday-clad peasantry rather than a crowd of the lower strata of New York--or the equally unpleasant sham aristocracy of Rochester.

"I remember those shaded walks of Hoboken. They are among the beautiful things and pleasant places, the memory of which is stored away in my attic story. I suppose you will see all the points of attraction before you turn your steps homeward. You will not go further eastward, I suppose. If you should go to Boston, go by way of Newport, and visit its beach. That famous beach, at the hour of early morning or just at evening twilight, is one of the grandest sights I ever looked upon. I won't attempt to describe it to you; but, if you _can_ see it, the memory thereof will not die out from your mind. The eye and the ear have kindred offices. They are, both of them, organs through which the soul within us takes cognizance of beauty. The magnificent stave of music which has once trembled on the tympanum, is forever prisoned in the spirit--'a thing of beauty;' and so each glorious form of nature on which the eye has rested, while the spirit drank in its inspiration, remains 'a joy forever.' And _this_ we call Memory. Why do we call it so? Because it is one of those mysterious powers of the human soul for which we have no other name.

"But I am forgetting what to say to you.

"Your particular mention of a number of your visitors is very agreeable to me. What a pity I cannot accept your invitation, and spend a week with you. You must remember everything you see and hear, and tell me all when you come home. I am very glad you like Mr. Hopper. He is a queer fellow--when he has a mind to be. He can veil the greatest amount of fun under the most serious face, of any one I know. He carries a 'band of music' under that Quaker physiognomy of his. I have often been talking to him seriously, and stopped short to tell him I could not read him. I did not know whether his thoughts were mine or exactly the opposite. His remarkable father, Isaac T. Hopper, is one of the n.o.blest-hearted beings in this wide world. His whole life has been marked by acts of most perfect benevolence and devotion to the cause of Truth and Humanity. I was pleased with N. P. Willis's article in _The Home Journal_, though written in his peculiar vein, and regret to learn that he has been subjected to such an outrage at the hands of the actor Edwin Forrest. I know nothing of Willis's morals, but should suppose him above anything mean, or what would render him justly amenable to the censure of those who have long admired him as a leading journalist and charming writer.

It is a sad, sad day for a man or woman who have made for themselves a home in thousands of hearts, and ministered to us in our holiday hours, when he or she stoops from that admired eminence, and becomes a thing for scorn to point its finger at. I will not believe _this_ of Nathaniel Parker Willis--the author of a thousand gems of thought which he has scattered up and down in my memory like spring flowers.

"Our daily press is just what it was. You cannot expect anything else from papers with little talent, and no courage, at the editorial helm.

"If you come across such a man as Horace Greeley will recommend as one of his own stamp, tell him Western New York wants a journalist who is up and dressed and afraid of n.o.body; and if he will come out here, and pitch into 'em, he will make his fortune and serve the country. I've a thought in my mind, and will give it to you for what it is worth.

"Soon after the meeting at Doctor Griswold's, I saw in the N. Y.

_Evening Post_ (what was very proper--so far as it went, because it did not charge _you_ with originating these phenomena, but only disclaimed belief in their Spiritual nature), a sort of disclaimer evidently by one of the persons present who took the privilege of speaking for the others (or most of them). Now the fact is that, if anything which has engrossed a large share of public attention is really worthy of serious investigation, the _result of such investigation_ is equally worthy to be made publicly known. And as the prominent minds in New York can most effectually do this, they, or those of them who have had the opportunity to arrive at fair conclusions, ought to be willing to state that result in explicit language, over their proper signatures. It would be but a simple act of justice to you; a satisfaction to the mult.i.tudes who are prevented, by a thousand considerations, from seeing you; and no dishonor to them. Before you leave, if it meets the approbation of your best friends, I would have it done. It would give you a _vantage ground_, from whence you could all look down upon the miserable scribblers who have been eking out _their_ existence by abusing _you_.

Write soon, and tell me what has transpired since your last letter.

"My love to you all.

"Yours truly, "J. E. ROBINSON."

JOHN E. ROBINSON.

"ROCHESTER, July 28, 1851.

"DEAR FRIEND LEAH:

"Your welcome letter came to me last Tuesday. I have been very anxious to hear from you. You write so seldom, and I am always antic.i.p.ating your letters long before they reach me. I am sorry to learn that you have been afflicted, but frequently wonder you are not all sick from the effect of continued application to the duties which devolve on you. I sympathize with you often in your thousand and one perplexities of mind and body. It gives me pleasure to know that the friends stand by you through all trials; and you will, I doubt not, find in your mind that appreciation of them that will secure a pleasing recollection when you shall have left them.

"You say that 'you all wish to come home, and will probably return _soon_.' Now, I wish I could believe that word has any significance in such connection; but it has become such a misnomer, in Spiritual things, that it is a great sinner.

"Sometimes I shut out the reality of things around me, and fancy you all here again. For the moment, I am pleasingly deceived, and again I stand within the charmed circle of the Rochester Seeresses. I hear your bursts of laughter, and look deep into your dark eyes to read what manner of thought is pa.s.sing behind the Spirit windows. You are glad to see me.

Maggie and Kate also give a like evidence. But I am only dreaming; you are away, and as far off as you were two months ago. I have little expectation of seeing you in less than two months; there are reasons which will keep you away so long, notwithstanding you speak of coming home. But I don't wish to hasten you. You know what is best, and will act accordingly. I should be sorry if you should do anything that you would afterward regret.

"The most familiar Spiritualists--if that term is proper, now hold weekly sociables here. We have met but twice as yet, but design continuing them each Sunday evening. The last Sunday and this we met at the house of Mr. Granger, and pa.s.sed the hours very much to our satisfaction. There were present Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Mr. and Mrs.

Post, Mr. Hammond, Mr. W. A. Langworthy, Mr. Jarvis, Mr. Edward Jones, George Willets, Mr. Rich, and the writer of this. The design is to have these meetings tend to the mutual improvement of those present. They partake more of a social and conversational than what would be called a religious character; opportunities for the interchange of views in reference to Spiritual things. It is similar to the a.s.sociation in Springfield, which Mr. Munn alluded to when here. By the way, Mr. Munn has sent me the prospectus of a weekly paper--_The Spirit Messenger_, to be issued at Springfield next month. His motive is not speculation, as any one may well judge who knows what an up-hill business the advocacy of advanced truth is in this our age. You and your friends in New York must send on to him a list of subscribers. I hope it will be sustained by the many who are seeking for light on this and kindred subjects of deep interest. If, as intended, it covers the field heretofore occupied by the miraculous, it ought to be sustained.

"Your house on Troup Street has been closed so long it will require seeing to before you go into it. You ought to send word several days before you reach here, in order that it may be properly ventilated. If you can do so, some of your friends will attend to it.

"As ever, your friend, "JOHN E. R."

ARTICLE FROM A NEW YORK SUNDAY NEWSPAPER.

The following is anonymous from a Sunday newspaper, the name of which I am not now able to give:

"We paid a visit on Sunday last to the Rochester ladies (at Barnum's Hotel), so celebrated in this world, and in the world of Spirits, for the extraordinary revelations made to them through the remarkable knockings or sounds which have excited so much attention.

"They appear to be intelligent persons, and there is little, if anything, in their manner that looks like simulation or imposture. We are a perfect heretic in all such beliefs, and never did have faith in anything that we could not understand. As to ghosts, spectres, witchcraft, or Spirits from the other world, we have never believed in any of them, consequently it cannot trouble us if we are occasionally deceived; and we are seldom vexed at being hoaxed in anything. We have attained a period of such wonderful discoveries in science and the arts--we accomplish so many extraordinary triumphs and unaccountable enterprises in the present age--that our motto is 'nil admirari.' Let us see all that is to be seen as quickly as possible, before we shake off this 'mortal coil.' After steam and the telegraph, we are ready to believe anything. The Spirit who makes knocks for these young ladies seems to be a familiar one, for it has followed them from Rochester and knocks in every part of Barnum's Hotel, corner of Broadway and Maiden Lane.

"The sounds, on the occasion of our visit, seemed to proceed from several parts of the room, near the table and in the next apartment.

We thought with Hamlet, 'Be thou a spirit of h.e.l.l or goblin d.a.m.ned,--Bringest thou airs from heaven or blasts from h.e.l.l,--Be thy intents wicked or charitable,--Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, that I will speak to thee!'

"The first idea that struck us was to inquire of our old friend, Tom Paine.

"We wrote down his name and the names of several cities, and asked where he died. The Spirits knocked 'at New York.' We then inquired how old he was when he died. The familiars knocked seventy times. This was pretty near. We asked if he voted for the death of Louis XVI.? It rapped 'No.'

The old sinner! This was perplexing and strange, yet it made no impression upon us. A clergyman whom we have known as possessing a clear, strong mind, brought in his pocket a family daguerrotype, and respectfully requested the Spirits to state how many figures were in it, when the number was rapped correctly. He then asked how many of the six had died, and the number was again rapped correctly. We saw the table at which we sat and the door opposite vibrate with the knocks, and yet we saw none that we could suspect of collusion. It is evident, however, that the minds of all present must harmonize, and there must be quietude and union of the nervous fluid to develop striking and wise answers to questions--particularly of a domestic character. The young ladies moved about the room, apparently independent, and it was clear that _they_ were not knocking, _whoever was_; and as to concealment and emissaries in a large bustling hotel, with bells ringing, waiters running about, chambermaids and lodgers constantly on the move, it is entirely out of the question. So we came away utterly disbelieving in all supernatural agency, and, at the same time, unable to say how any human means could be used without detection. The powwowings and witchcraft which prevailed so long in New England among our ancestors are now at an end. Our homes are no longer disturbed with an unaccountable noise, as of old; our children do not vomit crooked pins and tenpenny nails; nor have we either magic or sorcery. We no longer have those spirits which the Rosicrucians tell us inhabit the elements: sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and salamanders. Yet, grave and earnest men have, of old, believed in witchcraft, and many at this day believe in this Spiritual communion with the dead, as well as in these mysterious knockings.

"We, however, are not of that number; but would not censure or condemn those who are. The world is curious--these knockings are curious--and these young ladies are worth seeing, and the mysterious worth hearing.

Then let them pa.s.s for what they are worth."

ARTICLE FROM THE N. Y. DAY-BOOK BY ITS EDITOR, R. N. SIMPSON.

"_The Rochester Knocking Girls._"

"O ho! you are all coming into it are you?

"It is somewhat amusing to see editors of papers, distinguished men, literary characters and others coming into the belief of Spiritualism, or mysterious knockings; eating their own words and swallowing Spirits, girls, knockers and all. We say that it is amusing--it _would_ be amusing, were it not disgusting to see men, who pretend to possess an ordinary share of intelligence, so completely stultify themselves--as many of these characters have.

"More than six months ago these knockings commenced in Rochester, and a committee, composed of the most respectable citizens of that city went into a thorough examination of the cause of them, and reported to the world the result of that examination. In that report they tell us all and more than we have heard or seen since the girls have been in this city, and conclude by exonerating the girls from practising deception or fraud in any of their exhibitions.

"After reading that report, the writer of this went to Rochester and visited the girls: the result of that visit he published in the _Day-Book_ with just as much expectation of his statements being believed as if he had said that the cars ran off the track, or that he crossed Seneca Lake on board of a steamboat. What was his surprise to find that not one in twenty believed a word of them. _The Journal of Commerce_, _The Courier_, _The Express_, _The Christian Intelligencer_, and in fact all the papers in the city amused themselves and their readers by making fun of the whole matter. When we met a friend he would accost us with, 'Well, you have been to see the Rochester knockings, have you?'

"'Yes sir,' would be our answer.

"'Well, what do you think of them?'

"'I think just what I have written and published!'

"'Stimson--you don't pretend to believe in that humbug?'

"'I believe that I heard the knockings, and that the girls had no direct agency in making them.'

"An incredulous stare full in the face, the cheeks filled with wind, and a sudden bursting into a wild ironical laugh would follow, and the friend would turn away with, 'Well, Stimson, I am used up; if you are so easily humbugged as that I have nothing more to say.'

"This manifestation of utter disbelief in the whole thing, we must acknowledge, nettled us a little, and we concluded to 'shut up,' and deny that we believed in anything. We began to doubt that we had been to Rochester at all, and as for seeing the girls or hearing the knockings, we were ready to swear as bravely and boldly as Peter (and with the same truth) that we knew nothing about them.

"Well, time pa.s.sed on, the papers had their fun, and the girls are here.

What say _The Journal of Commerce_ and _The Express_ now? Do they call it all humbug? O no! some of our great men have been to see and hear for themselves, and instead of calling it humbug swallow it without gulping.

Of course _The Journal of Commerce_ can't go against the great men, and _The Express_, never having had an opinion of its own, follows on the back track as tamely as an a.s.s colt."

LETTER FROM DR. C. D. GRISWOLD, M.D.

_The Rappings in New York._