“Repeat the Lord’s Prayer”—First Money Accepted—Muscular Quakerism—Letter from George Willets—Letter from John E. Robinson—Caution against Consultation of Spirits about Worldly Interests.

To resume the narrative interrupted at page 74.

We left Corinthian Hall about ten o’clock P.M., and returned with Mr. and Mrs. Post, to their hospitable Quaker home.

We had passed the fiery ordeal. It had been a wearisome, exhausting trial. We needed rest, and it was thought advisable for us to remain there a few days. Many people called at our house on Troup Street, and, when they were informed of our absence, subsequently called at Mr. Post’s to see us, but were refused admittance under the circumstances which imposed the necessity.

Before we left this home of our kind and dear friends, mother and Kathie returned. (The latter had been to Mr. Capron’s, in Auburn, and returned with mother to Rochester.)

Mother had not heard of the public investigation, and thus was spared all the anxiety and torture of mind which we had undergone. She declared that if she had been there she would not have permitted it.

We were consoled by the reflection that we had fairly gained the victory, and cleared ourselves from the charges of deception; and that was our first and chief desire. We believed we had done our duty, and rejoiced that we had been so truly, so kindly and so nobly supported, and so honorably acquitted. Mother was rejoiced at our success and began to feel more resigned. Many persons continued to call, and all were anxious to learn from us and the Spirits something more than they were able to get through popular report or the newspapers. We often refused to see them, and declared we would not again subject ourselves to the criticisms of those who knew little or nothing of the subject, and were in general so bitterly hostile and prejudiced against it.

Oh, how little did we know of all that was before us! We had just opened the door to the public curiosity and interest; and it was not for us to discriminate who should enter therein. The people came from every direction. We knew not what to do. Judge Hascall came to spend an evening with us, bringing with him a large party of his friends, viz., Judge Summerfield, Hon. J. Hedden, Andrew Stewart, Mr. Duncan McNaughton, Judge Chamberlain, Mr. McKay, and Mr. McVean. One of these parties was known to his friends as an extreme infidel in religious matters.

Several of the parties named had visited us before, and they had urged Mr. McNaughton to spend the evening with us. He tried to excuse himself, but they insisted, and he finally consented to do so; they clearly understood that he was not to take any part in the investigation. They arrived at about eight o’clock P.M. Judge Hascall introduced the gentlemen as his friends and neighbors from Genesee County, N.Y. They were all distinguished men, holding high positions in their several pursuits.

No sooner had we taken our seats at the table, than the Spirits spelled out, “My dear son, repeat the Lord’s prayer.” Each member looked at the others inquiringly, but no word was spoken except to ask “Who?”

The rappings answered, “My dear son, ha’e ye forgotten your puir auld mither? O my son, repeat the Lord’s prayer.” Mr. McNaughton was a very tall man, with a strong Scotch accent. The rapping still continued to call upon him to repeat the Lord’s prayer. He looked from one to another, but said nothing. His friends urged him to comply with the Spirit’s request; but he was disgusted, and thought it was a trick which his friends were playing upon him, and as they were very jolly, he would not make himself ridiculous by resenting it: but still no further manifestations came, under the then state of things.

His friends told him that if he wanted to witness anything further he would have to comply with the request of the Spirit. After much persuasion, he reluctantly commenced in a very low, indistinct manner to mumble something that sounded like “Our father, which art in heaven.” By this time a universal roar of laughter broke from the company. Still, the Spirit urged him to go on, and he began again with little better success.

His friends knew full well it had been many a day since he had prayed with his “dear auld mither.” The Spirit then spelled that “all should join in repeating the Lord’s prayer,” and we all united in its repetition. The responsive rappings of approval were heard all over the room—on the table, chairs, floor, and wall. Mr. McNaughton looked astonished. The table danced with evident joy, and we were obliged to move back. There it stood, upon one foot, fairly dancing. Mr. McNaughton exclaimed boldly, in his Scotch dialect, “Exthraordinary! Exthraordinary! I begin to understand it now.” The laughter was over. The Spirit of his mother said, “My dear son, do you remember how we used to repeat the Lord’s prayer together, when you were a little laddie?” “Yes, mother. Yes, I comprehend it all. I am converted to the truth of Spiritual manifestations.”

The company remained until ten o’clock, and the manifestations were very satisfactory. They felt more than gratified, and, to use their own words, said, “We cannot go away without giving you some remuneration for the time you have kindly spent with us.” Mr. McNaughton had just lost a lovely daughter, and she gave him sweet assurance of her undying love and her immortal existence.

This is the first instance in which we had ever been offered payment for our time. They offered it in kindness and good faith, believing it was justly our due. But to us it seemed humiliating. We had not needed such aid, as my brother furnished us with provisions from the farm, and, with what I still had left of that received for teaching, I had enough for present purposes; and I fully intended to return with mother, and live at the old home. Still our friends insisted that we should not refuse their kindly intended gift. This first money was received on November 28, 1849.

I will here introduce, for love and veneration to his memory, a letter written about this time by our excellent Quaker friend George Willets, of Rochester, to Mr. E.W. Capron, who handed it over to me. He was one of the noblest of men. And Quaker as he was (he was one of the “Progressive Friends,” commonly called Hicksites), I once witnessed a scene in which a just and righteous indignation caused him to cast off his coat, in readiness to deal in very mundane fashion with an unworthy and misbehaving member of one of the “investigating committees.” “I’ve never fought a man in my life,” he said, “but I will not stand by and see thee insult these children.” The assailant wilted down. The provocation was such that I am sure the angel who may have charge of the short record of Quaker sins, after writing it “dropped a tear on the words and blotted them out forever.”

LETTER FROM GEORGE WILLETS.

(About end of 1848.)

Dear friend, E.W. Capron:

It is with some reluctance that I furnish you with the following statement. Not that I am afraid to tell the truth, but that the world, as I conceive, is not ready to receive such truths yet. Ridicule will probably be heaped upon me; but when I consider that it is the ignorant only who use that weapon, perhaps I can afford to stand up and say, “Let the storm come.” All who know me can say whether I have been truthful from my youth up, yea or nay; and the strongest language that I can use is to say that the following statement is strictly and entirely true.

In the summer of 1848, I had concluded, from the best judgment that I could bring to my aid, that it was best for my family to remove somewhere among the wilds of the West. Accordingly I took a tour of observation, and finding some land in Michigan, that suited me better than any other, belonging to a gentleman living in Rochester, I stopped on my return, in order, if possible, to negotiate for it. I stayed with my friend and relative, Isaac Post, and while there he told me of certain sounds being heard in the city; and that they displayed intelligence, and purported to be made by “Spirits,” or persons invisible to us. I was really sceptical about any such things, but at his solicitation went to examine the matter. The persons with whom these sounds seemed to be, I had never seen nor heard of before, and my friend was careful not to tell them who I was, or where I had been. It seems that the question was asked whether there was any communication for me, and the direction from the sounds was, that three persons be magnetized; two of whom were present, and one was sent for from a neighboring family. I did not know the name of any person present, and I was also certain that none of them knew me. After the three persons were put in the clairvoyant state, one of them said, “We have got to go to Michigan.” They all agreed that they had got to go there, and on my account. They did seem all to go there, and began to describe places and things which I had seen, and at length came to a piece of land which they said was the place they came to look at. They then described the land so accurately, which I had stopped in Rochester to buy, that I began to wonder who had told them. They all, with one accord, then said, “But he must not go there. His father says that he had better not go.” As they said this, there came a loud sound close to my chair, and I sat some distance from any other person. They spoke much of my father, and what his mind was, and at each time that same sound was heard. Up to this time I had not spoken a word, but found the big drops of perspiration starting from my face. I gathered courage, and thought I would dispel that illusion directly. I said, “As you assume to know my father, and what his mind is concerning me, perhaps you can tell his name.” They all seemed to look steadily for some time, then commenced and spoke slowly and deliberately these letters: “W-i-l-l-i-a-m W-i-l-l-e-t-s.” At each letter the loud sound that I first heard was again heard, and felt immediately under my feet. I never was so astonished in my life, and involuntarily said, “What does all this mean?” The sounds then said, by the alphabet being called over, that they had better be awakened, and the first loud sounds said, “I will talk with George, and tell him all about it.” The direction was for Mr. Post, myself, and a little girl, thirteen years old, to go by ourselves. And here I wish it distinctly understood, that all which I shall relate as obtained from those sounds, was in the presence only of my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Post, myself, and the little girl spoken of. As what follows all purported to be from my father, I will say that his name was William Willets, a member of the Society of Friends, widely known at Westbury, Long Island, where he lived until nearly sixty years of age, and subsequently at Skaneateles, Onondaga County, where he died in 1841. The communication by sounds then went on to say that it was my father who was present and talking with me; and three hours were consumed at the first interview.

In saying to me what his counsel was, it always assumed to counsel and advise, but never to dictate. He said that it was not best for us to go to Michigan, and gave various reasons, among which were that we should not enjoy ourselves in a new country, and that my health would not be competent for the task of clearing up new land; and that he foresaw, if we did go, that we should come back again, and would be less in number than when we went. I then asked what was best to do. The answer then was, “Come to Rochester.” I replied that I knew of no business that I could do in Rochester. The sounds said, “I will tell thee when thee comes.” I asked if I might know now. The answer was, “No, no business is needed until thee comes, and then I will tell thee.” The sounds then said, that after a time it would be best for me to buy some land. I asked where. The sounds then spelled out the name of a man whom no one present knew, and said that he owned fifty acres of land on such a street adjoining the city, and such a distance from the centre of the city; that he would sell any part. I asked the price that would be asked. The sounds were heard and counted by three of us,—one hundred and fifty times in succession,—to tell us the number of dollars per acre that would be asked. The sounds said that we had better go the next day and see if this was so, and said that we should not see the man until ten o’clock, though we might look for him as early as we pleased.

In the morning I looked in the Directory and there found the name spelled out to us, and went to his residence at seven o’clock, and was informed that he was gone to a distant part of the city, and would not be home until twelve o’clock. We then went to find him, and had some difficulty in doing so, but after talking with him five or six minutes, looked at the time, and it was seven minutes past ten. This person said that he owned fifty acres on the street told us by the sounds, and that he would sell any part. When I asked him the price, he showed me a map with the price of each lot marked, and taking the number of acres said by the sounds to be best to buy, and averaging the price, it was the price told us by the sounds, within six one-hundredths of a dollar per acre. I then went home to my family and pondered over these strange things. Many were the conflicts in my own mind, and I heard the cry from all quarters of “humbug,” “deception,” “fraud;” but I could not believe that I wanted to deceive myself. Three months I thought of these things deeply, and I could not go to Michigan. I concluded, if it was deception, it would do the world some good to find it out. The first of December, 1848, I moved from Waterloo to Rochester. A few days after getting here, the little girl spoken of came round to our house, and said that the “spirit” had directed her to come; for what purpose she did not know; we inquired what it was, and this was the communication: “I told thee if thee would come to Rochester, I would tell thee where thee could find employment: in four days from this time I will tell thee. In the meantime the anti-slavery folks are going to hold their fair; would it not be well for thee to help them?” No one was present at this time except my wife, the little girl, and myself. The four days went by, and again, without solicitation, and without thinking the time was up, the girl came again. The communication was, “Apply to William Wiley, Superintendent of the Auburn and Rochester Railroad, to-morrow at two o’clock, at his office, for a situation, and thee will have one before this week is out.” This was Thursday. I was a stranger to Mr. Wiley, and I called on Mr. Post, and told him the direction, and asked him if the next day he would go with me. That evening he, happening to be at the depot, inquired if Mr. Wiley was at home, and was told that he was in Boston, and, by a letter just received, would not be at home till Friday night. I was told by the sounds on Wednesday to apply on Thursday at two o’clock. Thursday at half-past one, instead of going to the railroad office, I went round where these sounds were heard, and said, “How is this?—I am told to apply to William Wiley, and he is in Boston.” The sounds said: “Go to his office now, he is there.” I called for Mr. Post and walked immediately there, and found Mr. Wiley in his office. He said that he had returned sooner than he expected to when he wrote the letter. Mr. Post said that I was a relative of his, and wished employment; and Mr. Wiley replied that they were all full, with abundant applications, and could give no encouragement whatever. We walked back, thinking deeply, and I went where the sounds were heard again. I inquired, “How is this?—Mr. Wiley has no place for me!” The answer was: “Thee will have a place on the cars, and will know it before the week is out.”

On Saturday night, at dark, I met Mr. Post, and he asked if I had heard anything from Mr. Wiley. I replied, “Not a word.” At eight o’clock on that same evening Mr. Post called at my house, and said that Mr. Wiley had just been at his store, and said that he had a place for me, and wished me to call at his office on Monday morning. As Mr. Wiley did not tell what place I was to fill, I again asked the sounds what it was; and they said it was to go as baggage-master between this place and Auburn. On Sunday morning I wrote to my friend James Truman, of Waterloo, stating that I should pass through that place on Monday following, in the capacity above stated, before I knew from Mr. Wiley what place he wanted me to fill; and he can probably testify to that fact. One month after I had been running on the cars, I learned that the person whose place I took had done things worthy of a dismissal, previous to my being directed to make application, which did not come to Mr. Wiley’s notice till the day on which I received the appointment. These things have only been known to a few friends; you and the world now have them. I have many communications, penned down at the time they were received, purporting to be from my father, all of the most elevating character, inciting me to goodness, purity and honesty of heart, and ever pointing to the endless progression of man. In conclusion, I may say that I have examined the matter attentively for one year and a half, and have had abundant opportunities to do so, and am prepared to say, although the sounds may cease to-day, and never be heard again, they have displayed a remarkable degree of intelligence, and were not made by any person visible to us.

(Signed) George Willets.[7]

Before proceeding further I desire at this point to insert in this volume an interesting letter, addressed to the Rochester Daily Advertiser, by our friend Mr. John E. Robinson, also, like Mr. Willets, a well-known and distinguished member of the Society of Friends.

The controversy on the rapping and the general spiritual manifestations after the public investigation could no longer be suppressed. It became a subject which elicited much comment in the public prints; but in relation to which the Spiritualists had nothing to fear. Their opponents, generally, wrote without ever having examined it; and graded the vehemence of their opposition by the strength of their fealty to the teachings of their leaders. One of these acknowledged leaders was Chester Dewey, D.D., of the Rochester Collegiate Institute, who, without seeking to investigate the subject, claimed to recognize it as a fraud in its inception and wicked in its designs; and thus recorded his opinion in the public press at Rochester. His letters to the Rochester Daily Advertiser, at the time, drew forth the following rejoinder by Mr. Robinson, of that city, which was published in the columns of that paper:

“THE RAPPING MYSTERY.

“Messrs. Editors: There has been a vast deal of ink shed upon the above-named subject, and much of it to but little purpose, except to demonstrate the willingness of individuals to show up before the world the least attractive features of their intellectual and moral characters. Far the greater number of paragraphists who have essayed to enlighten the world on this subject, and protect this community in particular from humbug, as they are pleased to term it, have made up their various articles of exceedingly cheap material. Ridicule, the fool’s argument, has formed the chief staple of their lucubrations. Denunciation, unsparingly poured out, has been heaped upon the heads of those most immediately connected with this singular phenomenon, and an unwarrantable and unmanly meanness, which has led the writers, almost without exception, to traduce the character of the Fox family, and has taught us how easy it is for men to forget their manhood and stoop to a point at which they can lay claim to but little of the nobility of human nature.

“I, for one, can find an apology for the penny-a-liners who have poured their puerile effusions at the knocking mystery. They do but cater for a public sentiment and public ignorance in this matter; and their bread-and-butter demands of them that they shall not wave their inky wands beyond the line of that opinion. But there are some for whom we cannot make this apology. I notice in your paper of 23d inst. a communication over the signature of C.D. The writer of said article lays claim (and not a groundless one) to the reputation of a man of wisdom. He is known among us as the expounder of laws natural and divine. His picture, so he tells us, hangs from the walls of the AthenÆum, and looks down complacently upon its visitors as a teacher of the exact and occult sciences. The community in which he lives has nourished him during a long lapse of years, has accredited to him the prerogatives he has claimed, and has looked up to him, as one clothed with authority, to enlighten it upon all abstruse subjects. And yet, with the knowledge (which he must possess) that if anything be spoken of it must be spoken of understandingly,—that a man in his position utterly disregards the safety of his reputation who rushes to record an opinion without ascertaining that it is tenable, and that he has facts to sustain him; this self-same C.D., this Solon of the closet and pulpit, without a particle of evidence, in the absence of all personal observation, rushes in the hot haste of blind folly to the press, and tells the “good people” that the phenomenon in question is no phenomenon at all, but only a sheer humbug! a miserable delusion, cunningly contrived, but fit only to deceive such fanatical fools as have been chasing shadows from time immemorial, down to the advent of Mormonism.

“This word humbug is in great request. It is of modern origin, and the moderns are making the most of it. Everything new, while going through its incipient stage, is denominated ‘humbug.’ Everything and everybody a whit in advance of the age or its intelligence is looked at askance by the gaping crowd, and ‘humbug’ is the ready watchword. The community’s acknowledged leaders, and whose antics, at times, should have taught them that

are asked by their too credulous disciples to give them their opinion on some new and startling development in physics or man’s intellectual nature, and immediately these ‘learned Thebans,’ scorning the patient toil and honest purpose of the true student, turn their blear eyes upon the interrogations and shout Humbug! Humbug!

“In such cases their visual organs are of about as much service to them as the sun is to that burrowing animal which shuns the light of day. When will men, even whose gray hairs seem to ask us to expect better things of them, learn that bareface assertion weighs not as evidence with those who choose to think for themselves? Ours is a thinking age, and requires something more than the bold say so of any man to convince people that a thing may or may not be. We live at a period, too, and in the midst of minds which have learned that much that was received as unadulterated truth by the past, upon which the dust of buried centuries had gathered and seemed to hallow, has been proved erroneous by the light of advancing knowledge and the searching analysis of science. And who shall say where that knowledge is to stop? Is there to be no new unfolding of man’s intellectual powers? Is he ever to remain in the comparative ignorance he now is in respecting the relations which he, while here in this life, sustains to the spiritual world? Are the laws of his being and its attributes as yet entirely revealed to him? Is the physical of this world of so much importance that the astounding developments of this and the coming cycles of time are to be confined entirely to that, to the exclusion of man’s higher and more ethereal nature? These questions I leave your correspondent C.D. and his coadjutor J.W.H. to answer for themselves in their more reflective hours.

“C.D. says ‘the wary and eagle-eyed are kept out, and excluded from opportunity of investigation.’ Now, to be perfectly plain, this remark borders very much upon misrepresentation. It is not so. And if the gentleman would have ‘the good people’ understand that he is thus denied, I would undeceive them. Mr. Dewey has on more than one occasion been urged by those who would have afforded him every opportunity for investigation, to test the reality of the said phenomena. He could have had, and may have, associated with him in such investigation, men whom he or others may select, as his equals in every respect, to aid him; and before he has the temerity to repeat his uttered cry of humbug, and brand again, with most unchristian readiness, as deceivers, individuals whom he does not know, I call upon him to avail himself of the senses which God has given him for that purpose. He need feel no repugnance to visiting so obscure a locality as Troup Street. His equals (to say the least) have been there before him, and he would not have to tarry long in that region to meet with visitors who possess more intelligence, a wider charity, greater modesty, and a better purpose than he has manifested in his communications.

“A man’s practice is the touchstone of his faith, and I want no better evidence of the practical infidelity of any one, than to know that while he preaches for so much the square yard the doctrine of an after-life, he scouts anything which comes to us in the shape of tangible evidence of the soul’s immortality.

“Mr. Dewey says he will be ‘glad to see the truth advanced, lead where it may.’ In this I join him, and such motive must be my apology for trespassing upon your columns and patience.

“Respectfully yours,
“John E. Robinson.
“Rochester, February, 25, 1850.”