young Farmer Worth several times. Twice she met him in the road, and
once he stopped at the school-house to bring her Wilson's book on birds,
which he had promised to lend her. But the day before school closed he
came and helped Jack Sapp and some other boys make a platform in the
woods, on which the children could speak their declamations and sing
their songs, and on the afternoon of the last day of school was present
in the crowd of parents, brothers, sisters, and friends assembled on
that important and, to the children, most exciting occasion. There were
declamations from the third and fourth readers,--"How big was Alexander,
Pa?" and "He never smiled again," and "Lord Ullin's Daughter,"--and
Maggie Loper held the audience spell-bound by an entirely new one, which
Elvira had selected and copied for her out of a book of poems,--"The
Dream of Eugene Aram." Then there were songs, and dialogues, and two
compositions, one on "Rats" and one on "Planting Corn," which had been
produced by their respective authors after much wear of brain fibre and
much blotting of writing-paper. Last of all, Elvira read one of
Longfellow's poems, after which she said that the exercises of the
school were over, but that remarks from visitors would be gladly
received. Then one of the trustees arose, and said that education was a
great blessing, that he hoped the children of the present day would
appreciate their advantages and grow up to be useful men and women,
adding that all the schooling he had received was three winter terms in
a log school-house, one entire end of which was occupied by the
fireplace, and which had no glass windows, the light being admitted
through holes cut in the logs and covered with greased foolscap-paper.
No other remarks being offered, the audience was dismissed, and the
children began in an excited hurry to collect their possessions, and bid
their teacher good-by as if for a life-long parting. Some of them even
shed tears, and this occasioned the cynical remark from a by-stander,
"Them Mays children needn't to take on so: the school-ma'am will have to
call at their house often enough before she gits her money."
Soon the spot was deserted, and the squirrels came down from the trees
to retake possession of their old haunts, to scamper across the
platform, to sniff at the fallen rose-petals of the bouquets, and to
nibble the crumbs of cake and bread dropped from the lunch-baskets.
The next outing for the people of Buck Creek neighborhood was the
county fair, which occurred in September. They went in spring-wagons, in
farm-wagons, in buggies, and on horseback, starting early in the
morning, and taking an ample supply of provisions for themselves as well
as feed for their horses.
The sunshine poured down hot upon them, and there was much dust, but
they were happy. There were crowds of people from all the surrounding
country; there were displays of vegetables, fruit, honey, butter, in
tents and sheds,--in short, all the products of a farming region; there
were cakes, loaves of bread, glasses of jelly, and jars of pickles and
preserves, made by farmers' wives; and in the department allotted to
needle-work there were quilts of various patterns and various claims to
public notice: one had three thousand five hundred and forty-four pieces
in it, and was made by a great-granddaughter of Daniel Boone, the
pioneer; another was pieced by an old lady of eighty-one without the aid
of glasses. Among the live-stock were fat cattle and prancing
three-year-old colts, with red or blue ribbons fastened to their manes,
indicating that they had received the first or second prize, and fat
hogs; there were various breeds of poultry in coops, and before each
stall or pen or coop stood a group of spectators, admiring, commenting,
or asking questions of the owner; there were agricultural machines and
implements, and patent pumps for stock-yards, and improved cross-cut
saws, each strongly recommended to the public by a glib-tongued agent.
Then there were stands for the sale of ice-cream, lemonade, and peanuts
and candy; and no rural beau felt that he had done the polite thing
unless he took his girl up to the counter and treated her. When he had
strolled all over the ground with her, and perhaps taken her into one or
two side-shows, where there were negro minstrels or the Wild Australian
Children, he went and sat in a buggy with her, and they talked, and
waited for the horse-race, or balloon-ascension, or wire-walking, which
was the especial attraction of the afternoon.
"Why, who's that with Tom Worth?" asked one Buck Creek belle of her
escort as they were thus sitting together. "I didn't know that he was
goin' with anybody?"
"I didn't, either," was the response; then, after a little pause, "I'll
swan, it's Miss Hill, the school-ma'am. Who'd 'a' thought they would be
here together? I didn't know they were acquainted."
And this remark was echoed by other Buck Creek people as they saw the
couple walking together. But there is a law of affinity by which people
are drawn together as lovers or as friends, which is like some of the
hidden forces of nature: we cannot see their operation, we can only see
their results. Some one has made the paradoxical remark that we are
acquainted with our friends before we ever see them; meaning that our
tastes for the same pursuits or subjects, traits of character that
harmonize, views that coincide, have been ripening apart, and, when at
last we meet, that is sufficient; it does not require a long
acquaintanceship to reveal one to the other.
Young Farmer Worth was now in the habit of frequently calling to see
Elvira Hill, and of taking her out riding in his buggy, that being an
approved form of courtship in this section. They talked of their
favorite books and studies, their ambitions for the future as regarded
mental culture, and their individual plans.
Elvira had applied for the position of assistant in the Hill's Station
school, and had been engaged as first assistant instead of second, which
was better than she had hoped. She would have to hear some advanced
classes from the principal's room, and this would require her to study,
which would be a source of improvement.
Young Farmer Worth, whose father had died three years before, had bought
the home farm, and was now working to pay his older brothers and sisters
for their shares in it and to comfortably support his mother in her
declining years.
"There are eighty acres in it, well improved, and with good buildings,"
he said one day, while unfolding his plans to Elvira, "and I think I can
make a good home of it, and a happy one, where I can feel independent,
and no one's servant, as I could not at any other business. Farming is a
profession, and I intend to work with my head as well as my hands, to
read and study on the subject, to take the best agricultural papers, and
keep up with the times. My fondness for ornithology and mineralogy can
be indulged in connection with my work on the farm and without in any
wise interfering with it."
In the winter he came occasionally to take her to lectures at
Sassafrasville or another neighboring town, and they always found food
for thought in what they heard, and pleasure in discussing it afterward.
The gossips said, "There's a match;" but it was not until spring that
they were engaged. Then he took her to see his mother, and showed her
the old home, the farm, and the improvements he was making. The old lady
received Elvira with mingled dignity and cordiality, but, finding her
interested in all she heard and saw, warmed toward her more and more,
and told much of her own life, unfolding the store of memories on which
her thoughts chiefly dwelt nowadays, talking of her husband, the
children she had lost, and bringing forth their pictures, opening closed
rooms, and showing dishes, linen, and other household goods which dated
back to her own girlhood and early married life.
Elvira felt an attachment for Mrs. Worth which deepened when, in the
ensuing autumn, her dear grandmother died after a brief illness, and
she experienced the loneliness of bereavement and homelessness. The
little brown house in Hill's Station was sold, and Elvira went to board
with one of the neighbors: she was still teaching in the village school.
When June came round again, with its beauty of earth and sky, it brought
her wedding-day. A very quiet wedding it was; but the home-coming, or
the "in-fare," to use a good old-fashioned word, was the occasion of
much joy and merry-making. It seemed as if all the Buck Creek
neighborhood had assembled to welcome the bride. Two of the farmers'
wives had been at the Worth homestead all the preceding day, and many of
them brought cakes with them.
In the centre of the table stood a roast pig, with an apple in its
mouth, and around it were a great abundance of the substantial viands
and delicacies usually provided on such occasions. There were also many
presents for the bride from her old friends, not costly or fine, but in
keeping with their manner of living. Mrs. Loper brought a sheep-skin for
a mat, the wool combed out smoothly and colored crimson, Maggie a white
crocheted tidy as big as a cart-wheel, Mrs. Sapp a wooden butter-stamp,
Mary Sapp a picture-frame made of pasteboard, with beech-nuts glued
together thickly upon it and varnished.
So, amid good wishes and rejoicing, the young married pair entered upon
their new life together, contented, yet energetic, and happy in the fact
that their own lives afforded fulness and enjoyment, and that in their
own efforts lay the fulfilment of their ambitions.
LOUISE COFFIN JONES.
INTO THY HANDS.
Into thy hands, my Father, I commit
All, all my spirit's care,
The sorest burden this dim life can bear,
The sweetest hope wherewith its paths are lit!
Into thy hands, that hold so closely knit
What our blind, aching heart
Calls joy or grief,--we know them not apart!
Into the hands whence leap
The hurling tempest, and the gentle breath
Kissing the babe to sleep,
The flaming bolt that smites with instant death
The giant oak, and the refreshing shower
Whose balmy drops make glad the tender flower.
What though, even as lent jewels passing bright,
That crowned me happy king
For one sweet revel of one night in spring,
I must surrender in the morning light,
That cold and gray breaks on my tearful sight,
Youth, hope, and joy, and love,
And--oh, all other gems, all price, above!--
The deathless certainty
Of the deep life beyond this pallid sun,
That golden shore and sea
Which to my youthful feet seemed wellnigh won,
So fair, so close, so clear, methought I heard
The trees' soft whisper and faint song of bird;
What though this fair dream, too, fled long ago,
And on my straining eyes
There break no more visions of mellow skies
'Neath which dear friends, called dead, move on in low
Sweet converse through wide, happy fields aglow
With heavenly flower and star,--
What though, like some poor pilgrim who from far
Sees, through a slender rift
In the dark rocks that hem his toilsome way,
The clouds an instant lift
From countries bathed in everlasting day,
I stand and stretch my yearning arms in vain
Toward the blest light, too swiftly lost again?
Into thy hands, my Father, I commit
This dearest, last hope too,
Old as the world, and yet forever new,--
The hope wherewith our dimmest paths are lit,
With life itself indissolubly knit!
That too is well, I know,
In thy eternal keeping. Ah! and so
Let my poor soul dismiss
Each fear and doubt, hush every anxious cry,
Forget all thought save this,
Some time,--oh, dream of joy that cannot die!--
In those beloved hands, a priceless store,
All our lost jewels shall be found once more!
STUART STERNE.
A CHAPTER OF MYSTERY.
Science, as a rule, has avoided the subject of Spiritualism. Its results
are too much unlike the hard, visible, tangible facts of scientific
research to attract those accustomed to positive investigations. And its
methods and conditions are usually of a character to set a scientist
beside himself with impatience. Crucial tests do not seem acceptable to
spirits in general. They decline to be placed on the microscopic slide
or to show their ghostly forms in the glare of the electric light, and
prefer to haunt the society of those who do not pester them with too
exacting _conditions_. Thus they have been mainly given over to a class
of somewhat credulous and, in some instances, not well-balanced mortals,
whose statements have very little weight with the general public, and
whose strong powers of digesting the marvellous have originated a
plentiful crop of fraud and trickery sufficient to throw discredit on
the whole business.
It cannot be said, however, that all the adherents of Spiritualism are
of this character, or that science has completely failed to investigate
it. It has won over many persons of good sense and sound logic,
including several prominent scientists, to a belief in the truth of its
claims. Were its adherents all cranks or credulous believers, and its
phenomena only such common sleight-of-hand performances as suffice to
convince the open-mouthed swallowers of conjurers' tricks, it would be
idle to give it any attention. But phenomena sufficiently striking to
convert such men as Hare, Crooks, Wallace, Zöllner, and the like are
certainly worthy of some attention, and cannot be at once dismissed as
results of skilful prestidigitation.
In fact, it is evident to those who have taken the trouble to
investigate the question seriously, and who do not dismiss it with an _a
priori_ decision, that in addition to the fraudulent mediums who make it
their business to trick the public, and are ready to produce a new
marvel for every new dollar, and to call "spirits from the vasty deep"
of the unseen universe in form and shape to suit every customer, there
are some private and strictly honest mediums, and many phenomena which
no theory of conjuring will explain. To what they are due is another
question, in regard to which no hypothesis is here offered. It may be
said here, however, that the work of the Psychic Research Society has
demonstrated rather conclusively that certain hitherto unknown and
unsuspected powers and laws of nature do exist, and that man's five
senses are not the only means by which he gains a knowledge of what is
going on in other minds than his own. The facts of thought-transference,
of mesmeric control, of apparitions of the living, and the like, as
critically tested by the members of this society, seem to indicate
clearly that mind can affect, influence, and control mind through some
other channel than that of the senses, usually over short distances, but
in case of strong mental concentration over long distances. That some
psychic medium, some ethereal atmosphere, infiltrates our grosser
atmosphere, and is capable of conveying waves of thought as the
luminiferous ether conveys waves of light, is the theory advanced in
explanation of these phenomena. Spiritualists had long before advanced a
like theory in explanation of their phenomena, claiming that disembodied
as well as living minds have the power of influencing and controlling
other minds, through the agency of such a psychic atmosphere, and also
of acting upon and moving physical substances through a like agency. As
to the probability of all this, no opinion is here offered.
It is our purpose simply to select some of the more striking instances
of spiritualistic phenomena, as recorded by scientific observers. Those
placed on record by the numerous unscientific and unknown investigators
are not the kind of material to present to the general public.
Statements of an unusual character need to be thoroughly substantiated
before they can be accepted, and the remarkable phenomena adduced as
spiritual demand evidence of the most unquestionable character. There is
always the feeling that the observer may have been deceived by some
shrewd trickery, or have credulously accepted what others would have
readily seen through, or that the senses may have been under some form
of mesmeric control. Instances of such phenomena, therefore, need to be
attested by the names of persons of well-known honesty, judgment, and
discrimination, and attended with an exact statement of the tests
applied, before they can be accepted as thoroughly trustworthy accounts.
Some instances of this character may be here given.
The phenomena known under the general name of spirit-manifestations vary
greatly in different instances. In some cases they take the form of
strange dreams, in which some warning or information concerning coming
events is given that afterward proves true. In others they occur as
seeming apparitions of persons recently or long dead. In others, as in
the case of haunted houses, there are noises of great variety, moving of
objects, opening and shutting of doors, appearances of unknown forms,
and all the phenomena which might be produced by an invisible inhabitant
of the house who was able to become visible under certain circumstances.
More ordinary manifestations are rapping sounds and lifting of heavy
bodies, writing either with or without apparent human agency, and mental
communication of facts unknown to or forgotten by the persons present.
Other phases are those presented by professional mediums,--the tying and
untying of ropes, playing on musical instruments, the production of
luminous phenomena, slate-writing under tables, and the like.
Performances of this character are usually done in the dark, and the
fraud which may be present is therefore not easily detected. It is
impossible to apply tests under such circumstances, and nothing can be
accepted as positive that cannot be tested. Performances similarly
surprising are constantly offered by professional conjurers, and nothing
claiming the high origin of spiritual phenomena can be received in
evidence where trickery is possible or has not been rendered impossible
by the employment of adequate tests.
To the same class belong the cabinet performances and the so-called
materialization of spirit forms, which have been the favorite cards of
professional mediums of late years. So far as yet offered in public,
they may be dismissed in the mass as pure trickery. The fact that
stage-performers of sleight-of-hand tricks can repeat the cabinet
phenomena in every detail, and that the materialized spirit showmen have
been caught in numerous instances in the very act of fraud, throws utter
discredit on the business. No repetition by new mediums of other forms
of the exposed tricks carries any weight. In fact, in a matter of such
importance nothing can be accepted as settled until it has been
subjected to the strictest scientific tests and every possible
opportunity for deceit or trickery eliminated. We are not ready to
believe that the spirits of our departed friends are able and willing to
talk with or show themselves to us, or create disturbances in the
arrangement of our furniture, unless we are absolutely positive that our
eyes, ears, and nerves are not being cleverly fooled by some skilled and
unscrupulous show-man, or that we are not self-deceived by some
temporary vagary of our brains or senses.
In addition to the purely physical phenomena are others of a more or
less mental character. One interesting phase of the latter is that of
planchette-writing, which attracted so much attention a few years ago.
The planchette, a heart-shaped board moving easily on casters, and with
a pencil supporting it at one extremity, moves with great readiness when
touched by mediumistic fingers, and is responsible for acres of
communications purporting to come from the world of spirits, and
conveying the greatest variety of information, alike as to the thoughts
and deeds of particular spirits and the general conditions of
disembodied spiritual existence. In other instances the planchette is
dispensed with, and the writing done by a pencil held in the hand of the
medium, or occasionally, as some persons positively declare, by a pencil
that is held in no mortal hand. In still other cases the medium, either
awake or entranced, gives the communication by word of mouth. And this
is asserted to be the case not only in respect to brief messages, but in
long addresses, which are given every Sunday in our principal cities
before large audiences, and in the writing of books of considerable
length, but not, as a rule, of any great profundity or literary value.
To all these claims, however, we can simply record the verdict "not
proven." When a man writes or says anything we want more than his mere
assertion to prove that it does not come from his own mind. And, even if
we are satisfied that he is not consciously deceiving, the possibility
remains that he is affected by some unconscious mental action. We shall
certainly not accept his declaration that spirits of the dead are
talking through him unless he gives information that could not possibly
have been in his own mind, and could not have been received by
thought-transference from the mind of any other person present
or in _rapport_ with him at a distance. The discoveries in
thought-transference open possibilities of mental influence between
living persons which aid to explain many hitherto incomprehensible
phenomena.
Clairvoyant and clairaudiant mediums fall into the same category. They
profess to see forms which no one else can see, and to hear voices which
no one else can hear, and describe these forms, or repeat the words of
these voices, often with the effect of recalling the appearance or
character of deceased persons whom they could not possibly have known.
Yet the fact remains that the persons who recognize these descriptions
as accurate must have known the parties described, and it becomes
possible that the mental impression of the medium may have been received
by thought-transference from them. We do not assert that it has been so
received. We assert nothing. In fact, phenomena are claimed to occur
which it is difficult or impossible to explain on any such theory, or on
any other theory yet promulgated. Among these is the conveyance of
matter through matter, as of an object from the interior to the exterior
of a corked and sealed bottle, of other objects from a distance into
locked rooms, of writing by a sliver of pencil in the interior of a
double slate firmly screwed together, of the placing of close-fitting
steel rings in one solid piece around human necks, and their subsequent
removal, of writing and speaking in languages unknown to some or all of
the persons present, and a considerable variety of similar performances,
declared to have occurred under strict test-conditions. Yet if we cannot
explain we retain the right to doubt, and such statements cannot be
received as facts except on the strongest substantiation.
The phenomena whose main forms we have here given, but whose actual
variety we cannot attempt to give, are offered on the testimony of a
great variety of persons, many of whom are plainly too credulous for
their evidence to be of any value whatever, while others, who seem to
have exercised great caution and cool judgment, are unknown to the
general public, and therefore not likely to be accepted as witnesses in
such a critical case. Others, again, who are well known and highly
respected, have invalidated their testimony by clearly letting
themselves be deceived. Such was the case with Robert Dale Owen, one of
the main historians of spiritual phenomena, who permitted himself to be
pitifully humbugged in Philadelphia by the somewhat famous spirit of
Katie King, whose spirit face was afterward discovered on the sturdy
shoulders of a very decidedly incarnate young lady. This was one of the
first instances of that throng of materialized frauds with which this
country has ever since been well supplied.