“He who buildeth with peg and cudgel but buildeth a toy for an age who will but cast aside the bauble as naught; but he who buildeth with word, a quill and a fluid, buildeth well.”—Patience Worth.

There are a number of things that distinguish Patience Worth from all other “intelligences” that have been credited with communications pretending to come from a spiritual source. First is her intellect. One of the strongest arguments against the genuineness of such communications has been the lack of intelligence often displayed in them. They have largely been, though with many exceptions, crude emanations of weak mentalities, and few of the exceptions have shown greater intellect or greater knowledge than is possessed by the average human being.

In a work entitled, “Is Death the End?” Dr. John H. Holmes, an eminent New York divine, gives considerable space to the psychic evidence of immortality. In the course of his discussion of this phase of his subject he concisely describes the characteristic features of psychic communications. “Nobody,” he says, “can study the evidence gathered in this particular field without noticing, first of all, the triviality, almost the inanity, of the communications received. Here we come, eager for the evidence of future life and information as to what it means to die and pass into the great beyond. And what do we get? First of all—and naturally enough, perhaps—frantic efforts on the part of the alleged spirits to prove their identity by the citation of intricate and unimportant details of where they were and what they did at different times when they were here among men. Sometimes there is a recounting of an event which is taking place in a part of the world far removed from the locality in which the medium and the recipient are sitting. Again and again there is a descent to obscurity and feeble chattering.”

I quote this passage, not merely because it so clearly states the experience and conclusions of many who have investigated these phenomena, but because it serves to show by its marked contrast the wonder of the communications from Patience Worth. There are no efforts on her part to prove her identity. On the contrary, she can rarely be induced to speak of herself, and the personal information she has reluctantly given is disappointingly meager. “About me,” she says, “thou wouldst know much. Yesterday is dead. Let thy mind rest as to the past.” She never speaks of her own acts as a physical being; she never refers to any event taking place in the world now or that has taken place in the past. But far more important than these, she reveals an intellect that is worthy of any man’s respect. It is at once keen, swift, subtle and profound. There is not once but always a “sustained level of clear thought and fine feeling.” There is obscurity at times, but it is usually the obscurity of profundity, and intelligent study generally reveals a meaning that is worth the effort. There is never a “focusing of attention upon the affairs of this world,” except for the purpose of displaying its beauties and its wonders, and to assist in explaining the world that she claims is to come. For that other world she seems to try to explain as far as some apparent limitations permit, speaks as few have spoken before, and her words often bring delight to the mind and consolation to the soul.

Before considering these communications in detail, it would be well for the reader to become a little better acquainted with the alleged Patience herself. I speak of her as a person, for whatever she, or it, may be, the impression of a distinct personality is clear and definite; and it is, besides, more convenient so to designate her. Patience as a rule speaks an archaic tongue that is in general the English language of about the time of the Stuarts, but which contains elements of a usage still more ancient, and, not rarely, word and phrase forms that seem never to have been used in English or in any English dialect. Almost all of her words, however, whether in conversation or in literary composition, are of pure Anglo-Saxon-Norman origin. There is seldom a word of direct Latin or Greek parentage. Virtually all of the objects she refers to are things that existed in the seventeenth century or earlier. In all of the great mass of manuscript that has come from her we have not noticed a single reference to an object of modern creation or development; nor have more than a dozen words been found in her writings that may be of later origin than the seventeenth century, and some of these words are debatable. She has shown, in what would seem to be a genuinely feminine spirit of perversity, that she can use a modern word if she chooses to do so. And if she is living now, no matter when she was on earth, why should she not? (She has twice used the word “shack,” meaning a roughly constructed cabin, a word which is in that sense so new and so local that it has but recently found a place in the dictionaries.) But the fact remains that the number of such words is so small as to be negligible.

Only one who has tried to write in archaic English without committing anachronisms can realize its tremendous difficulty. We are so saturated with words and idioms of modern origin that it is almost impossible wholly to discard them, even when given every advantage of time and reflection. How much more difficult must it be then to use and maintain such language without an error in ordinary impromptu conversation, answering questions that could not have been expected, and flashing repartee that is entirely dependent upon the situation or remarks of the moment. Yet Patience does this with marvelous facility. So she can hardly be Mrs. Curran.

All of her knowledge of material things seems to be drawn from English associations. She is surprisingly familiar with the trees and flowers, the birds and beasts of England. She knows the manners and customs of its people as they were two or three centuries ago, the people of the fields or the people of the palace. Her speech is filled with references to the furniture, utensils and mechanical contrivances of the household of that time, and to its articles of dress, musical instruments, and tools of agriculture and the mechanical arts. There are also a few indications of a knowledge of New England life. Yet she has never admitted a residence in England or New England, has never spoken of a birthplace or an abiding place anywhere, has never, in fact, used a single geographical proper name in relation to herself.

The communications of Patience Worth come in a variety of forms: Conversation that is strewn with wit and wisdom, epigrams and maxims; poems by the hundred; parables and allegories; stories of a semi-dramatic character, and dramas.

Here is an example of her conversation from one of the early records—an evening when a skeptical friend, a young physician, somewhat disposed to the use of slang, was present with his wife.

As the ladies took the board, the doctor remarked:

“I hope Patience Worth will come. I’d like to find out what her game is.”

Patience was there and instantly responded:

“Dost, then, desire the plucking of another goose?”

Doctor.—“By George, she’s right there with the grease, isn’t she?”

Patience.—“Enough to baste the last upon the spit.”

Doctor.—“Well, that’s quick wit for you. Pretty hard to catch her.”

Patience.—“The salt of today will not serve to catch the bird of tomorrow.”

Doctor.—“She’d better call herself the bird of yesterday. I wonder what kind of a mind she had, anyway.”

Patience.—“Dost crave to taste the sauce?”

Doctor.—“She holds to her simile of the goose. I wish you’d ask her how she makes that little table move under your hands to spell the words.”

Patience.—“A wise cook telleth not the brew.”

Doctor.—“Turn that board over and let me see what’s under it.”

This was done, and after his inspection it was reversed.

Patience.—“Thee’lt bump thy nose to look within the hopper.”

Doctor.—“Whew! She doesn’t mind handing you one, does she?”

Mrs. Pollard.—“That’s Patience’s way. She doesn’t think we count for anything.”

Patience.—“The bell-cow doth deem the good folk go to Sabboth house from the ringing of her bell.”

Doctor.—“She evidently thinks we are a conceited lot. Well, I believe she’ll agree with me that you can’t get far in this world without a fair opinion of yourself.”

Patience.—“So the donkey loveth his bray!”

The Doctor’s Wife.—“You can draw her on all you please. I’m going to keep perfectly still.”

Patience.—“Oh, e’en the mouse will have a nibble.”

Mrs. Curran.—“There! She isn’t going to let you off without a little roast. I wonder what she has to say to you.”

Patience.—“Did’st ever see the brood hen puff up with self-esteem when all her chicks go for a swim?”

Doctor.—“Let’s analyze that and see if there’s anything in it.”

Patience.—“Strain the potion. Mayhap thou wilt find a fly.”

This will be sufficient to illustrate Patience’s form of speech and her ready wit. It also shows something of the character of the people to whom and through whom she has usually spoken. They are not solemn investigators nor “pussy-footed” charlatans. There is no ceremony about the sitting, no dimmed lights, no compelled silences, no mummeries of any sort. The assistance is of the ordinary, fun-loving, somewhat irreverent American type. The board is brought into the living-room under the full glare of the electric lamps. The men perhaps smoke their cigars. If Patience seems to be in the humor for conversation, all may take part, and she hurls her javelins impartially. A visitor is at once brought within the umbra of her wit.

Her conversation, as already indicated, is filled with epigrams and maxims. A book could be made from these alone. They are, of course, not always original. What maxims are? But they are given on the instant, without possibility of previous thought, and are always to the point. Here are a few of these prompt aphorisms:

“A lollypop is but a breeder of pain.”

“An old goose gobbles the grain like a gosling.”

“Dead resolves are sorry fare.”

“The goose knoweth where the bin leaketh.”

“Quills of sages were plucked from geese.”

“Puddings fit for lords would sour the belly of the swineboy.”

“To clap the cover on a steaming pot of herbs will but modify^[1] the stench.”

“She who quacketh loudest deems the gander not the lead at waddling time.”

“Climb not the stars to find a pebble.”

“He who hath a house, a hearth and a friend hath a lucky lot.”

She is often caustic and incisive.

“A man loveth his wife, but, ah, the buckles on his knee breeks!”

“Should I present thee with a pumpkin, wouldst thou desire to count the seeds?”

“A drink of asses’ milk would nurture the swine, but wouldst thou then expect his song to change from Want, Want, Want?”

“Some folk, like the bell without a clapper, go clanging on in good faith, believing the good folk can hear them.”

“Were I to tell thee the pudding string were a spinet’s string, thou wouldst make ready for the dance.”

“Thee’lt tie thy God within thy kerchief, else have none of Him, and like unto a bat, hang thyself topsy-turvy to better view His handiwork.”

“’Twould pleg thee sore should thy shadow wear cap and bells.”

“From constant wishing the moon may tip for thee.”

“Wouldst thou have a daisy blossom upon a thistle?”

“Ye who carry pigskins to the well and lace not the hole are a tiresome lot.”

“He who eateth a bannock well made flattereth himself should his belly not sour.”

Aside from the dramatic compositions, some of which are of great length, most of the communications received from Patience have been in verse. There is rarely a rhyme, practically all being iambic blank verse in lines of irregular length. The rhythm is almost uniformly smooth. At some sittings the poetry begins to come as soon as the hands are placed upon the planchette, and the evening is given over to the production of verse. At others, verses are mingled with repartee and epigram, but seldom is an evening spent without at least one poem coming. This was not the case in the earlier months, when many sittings were given up wholly to conversation. The poetry has gradually increased in volume, as if the earlier efforts of the influence had been tentative, while the responsiveness of the intermediary was being tested. So, too, the earlier verses were fragments.