The Missing Link In Modern Spiritualism Part 38

SAME.

"PROVIDENCE, June 12, 1859.

"MY DEAR MRS. UNDERHILL:

"I have been waiting a long time, hoping to hear from you and to have that visit appointed. Now the country is so beautiful I must urge you to come and enjoy it with me. Last evening I met Mr. Bartlett, who inquired for you and hoped you would come very soon. He gives a strawberry party on Sat.u.r.day evening of this week. You shall see just whom you would like to see, and no others. You shall ride, walk, or rest, just as you like, and have a good time, that shall make you forget all the disagreeables of the past. How fortunate it is that we have the ability to forget some things, and that the heart prefers to retain the beautiful and cast aside the evil. Come next week, as then I shall have strawberries in abundance and cherries too. Mr. Underhill must come _for_ you. If he comes _with_ you, he will hurry you away too soon, I know, and there are a thousand things for us to talk about. My little Maybell is in splendid health and spirits. Give my kind regards to Mr. Underhill, and tell him to give you leave of absence now. Let me hear from you soon. If you come by the Fall River boat you have a beautiful sail up the river, and be here to breakfast about half-past ten o'clock.

"I will meet you with a carriage at the wharf.

"Yours with much affection, (Signed) "PAULINE W. DAVIS."

JOHN E. ROBINSON.

"NEW YORK, October 1, 1884.

"MY KIND FRIEND, MRS. UNDERHILL:

"Learning that you are about having published a new book on the general subject of Modern Spiritualism, and that, in connection therewith, you propose to avail yourself of such writings of mine as were suggested by a careful study of its phenomenal facts during the early days of their occurrence; I write now to say that, so far from having any objections to such a design, I acquiesce promptly and thoroughly in your request.

"Furthermore, if any letters of mine, either of a public or private character, can be of service to you, you need not, as a suggestion of delicacy, withhold my name. What is truth to me, I utter, if the occasion seems to call for its expression.

"It has occurred to me, in this connection, that some thoughts of my maturer years, which have quite recently pa.s.sed through my mind, may be pertinent to the general subject.

"Without being censorious, and desiring to keep strictly within the bounds of propriety, allow me to say that I have noted a marked tendency, especially in these latter years, of a more general atheistic quality in public thought upon the general subjects which lie at the base of all human religious belief.

"I might, perhaps, italicize what I refer to, as a near approach to a positive unbelief, in most grades of modern intellects; from the most gifted to those lower strata which take their initial thoughts from their superiors.

"Now it seems to me on reflection, during a long season when my thoughts have been almost my only companions, that the cause of all this general declension or 'eclipse of faith' is, that Science has taught too much, _unless it teaches more_!

"I would rather phrase it, however (for the emendation is a better solution), that the true teachings of science have not been followed out to their ultimates.

"Now, to my apprehension, this is a most grievous error, and was well expressed by the poet who penned the lines,

'Oh, star-eyed Science! hast thou wandered there To bring us back the tidings of Despair?'

"Science has, as I apprehend it--and I would not be erroneous in my judgment, nor willingly harsh--generally impressed the intellects of its votaries in such a manner as to lead them intellectually to find _nothing beyond the elemental matter of the Universe as their eyes behold it_. Exceptions there have been, and are, to this general charge; but they are rare. To refer in especial to the fact stated (without being ungenerously personal), I may add that the acknowledged highest and most accomplished medical authority in New York to-day (so I am informed) hesitates not to aver, as his best and highest conviction, that when a human body is thoroughly dissected upon his table, he has shown to his cla.s.s of students all _that was or is_ of the specimen of humanity, save the extinct principle of animal existence.

"This is simply bald, blank atheism!

"It is an undoubted fact that such an opinion _may be held_ by many a man of sincerity; but such products have been initiated by the gross sensuousness of the religious thought, that has given _form and substance_ to what should never have been considered as coming within the range of things designated by and possessing those attributes.

"Let me explain, if I can, to the comprehension of such as may, perchance, read this, the nature of the Faith that is in me.

"I am willing in my elder days to live by it, and to be judged of it by the enlightened convictions of my fellow-men while I live upon this earth, and by that Deity in whom I verily believe.

"I know--we all know--of the imperious forces of nature which rock a continent or roll back an ocean from its sh.o.r.es.

"We also know something of gigantic and of microscopic life; of the intelligence of animated nature, through all its varied and wonderful forms; we know and study the wonders of the human intellect, even from (I might almost say) the first dawn of life.

"We are all, more or less, conversant with the action of principles which inhere in many species of vegetable life, in which we note a rare and exquisite faculty of sensation, which mirrors in its perfection the faculty of human consciousness, and human ingenuity.

"We look, not upward nor downward--for those terms are inadmissible in this connection--but outward from our standpoint; and what do we see?

The heavens, as the ancients called what their limited vision revealed to them. Under Galileo's lead we look again, aided by the telescope of moderate power, and, beyond that gathered in our first field of sight, we find another countless host of stars. Tired with the result we think and rest. Recuperating our wearied eyes, we subst.i.tute an instrument of higher power, and again peer into the realm of Infinitude. And again another congeries of stars is opened to our human vision. Repeat the process as we may, and as often as we choose, increase the penetrating power of our instrument, the same fact remains. There is no end, no limitation. But in all these results of our inquisitorial efforts we discover one preponderating law--that of undeviating order. This is the one omnipresent principle by which their movements are governed.

"Law, in this sense at least, must be and is the result of dictation by the highest wisdom, and necessitates the existence of Deity. I use the term because it is the only one which is pertinent to the subject and idea to be expressed. The word G.o.d is the outcome of the earlier ages of comparative intellectual darkness. The highest mental status of mankind at that time could not apprehend a Ruler of the Universe except as clothed with a form somewhat a.n.a.logous to that of a human being, and hence the rather presumptuous declaration that 'G.o.d created man in His own image.'

"We can readily apprehend this.

"If, on contemplation, we look the _august question_ squarely in the face, we can most certainly reach the conclusion that this Ideal is the highest possible one, and centres within itself _all things else_ requisite to an intelligent apprehension of what we are striving to reach. To ill.u.s.trate--if we have not already covered the basic ground of the thought--all the most potent and irresistible forces of Nature are strictly impalpable; and yet we know somewhat of their lurkings; and such star-eyed minds as that of a Morse can reverently and gently lead them in the direction of human pathways.

"This conviction may be considered as the final result of the eager inquiry of honest and intelligent human minds. I think it the reflex of the conviction of England's Newton, and I accept and retain it as a finality of the question. It enn.o.bles instead of dwarfing one's conception of a Ruler of all things, and gives us a stable as well as a rational and intellectual standpoint of observation, of faith, and of love. Higher than the G.o.d of earlier wors.h.i.+p, because entirely removed from the sensuous perceptions; not fas.h.i.+oned after the crude and dimly visioned ideals of elder time, it is sufficient for the highest yearnings of all Humanity, and must necessarily enn.o.ble the faith of all with whom it shall live as the great exponent of Power, Truth, and Love.

"I remain, sincerely, as ever,

"Your friend, "J. E. ROBINSON."[21]

[21] "The writer is quite aware that if this letter, or its substance, should be used as a part of the text of your book, it may be perused by some who will p.r.o.nounce its final and legitimate conclusions as but a reflex or embodiment of ancient Pantheism. I think, however, that the more critical of its observers--if such it may and I hope will have--will discover a wide divergence from that form of belief; which is really, if rightly apprehended, totally at variance with the central idea which I intend reverently to express.

"J. E. R."

The following letter will explain itself. Professor J. Jay Watson needs no description. He was an intimate friend of Ole Bull, who bequeathed to him his favorite violin, on which instrument he is himself a consummate performer, while his little son, Emmons Watson, bids fair some day to rival Ole Bull himself. His direction of the music at the Centennial of 1876, and his popular "dime concerts" in New York, attended by some hundreds of thousands, have made Professor Watson not less widely known than he is everywhere highly respected, for his philanthropy as well as musical genius and powers.

A. L. U.

"MRS. A. LEAH UNDERHILL:

"HIGHLY ESTEEMED FRIEND--It is with unfeigned pleasure that I comply with your request to furnish you with an account of my strange experience while visiting San Francisco, Cal., in company with Ole Bull, the violinist, in 1870.

"I cheerfully give the facts as they occurred, and it seems eminently proper that the incident which I am about to relate should occupy a place in your forthcoming book, when we recollect that the problem involved was solved through your marvellous mediumistic powers.

"My father-in-law, Mr. Samuel Parsons, formerly an old and revered citizen of Gloucester, Ma.s.s., and who pa.s.sed to the life beyond in 1865, had for many years been noted for his remarkable prophecies as to the coming of future events, as well as a strict regard for honesty and truth. We frequently talked of the change called death, and as we were both somewhat materialistic in our views as to a future state of existence, we mutually agreed that the one who should be first called to pay the debt of nature, would, if there was a possibility of Spirit return, with sufficient power to tangibly manifest his presence, surely do so; and in order that there could be no mistaking the individual ident.i.ty, he would seize the one still in earth-life by the hair of his head and forcibly pull him from his bed to the floor.

"Laughable, and even ridiculous, as it may seem, this promise was at various times renewed, and frequently in the presence of mutual friends, who are still living. This agreement was made as a sort of harmless joke, neither Mr. Parsons nor myself having, up to this time, investigated the philosophy of Modern Spiritualism in any form.

"During my visit to San Francisco, Cal., while managing the 'Ole Bull Concert Combination,' I had occasion to employ a number of persons, one of whom, having been proved glaringly dishonest, I was obliged to discharge.

"This individual, not being satisfied with my leniency in letting him off without legal punishment, vowed vengeance upon me, saying to several persons that I should '_never leave California alive_.' As 'barking dogs seldom bite,' I paid little attention to his threats. One evening, after the conclusion of our concert, I was accompanied to my hotel by J.

Heneage Carter, Esq., an old-time friend, and the originator of the once famous 'Carter Zouave Troupe.' After depositing the receipts of the evening with Mr. Ridgeway, clerk of the 'Lick House,' where our company were stopping, I retired to my room with my friend Carter. A brief chat ensued, no allusion whatever being made as to the threats of the discharged employee. Mr. Carter bade me a cheerful good-night and took his departure. I had no special anxiety upon my mind, had eaten no hearty supper, taken no beverage in the shape of wine or liquor of any description; in fact, I have scrupulously avoided dissipation in any form up to the present moment of my life; consequently there was nothing in my stomach calculated to induce nightmare or unpleasant dreams.

"Upon retiring I immediately fell into a tranquil sleep, from which I was unceremoniously awakened, without the slightest warning, by being suddenly and vigorously grasped, apparently by a strong hand, by the hair of my head and jerked with tremendous force from my bed, landing sprawling upon the floor. Immediately gaining my feet, I prepared to face a demon in the flesh of some sort, and groped about the room to find a friendly chair with which to defend myself, if need be. No further demonstration being made, however, I proceeded to strike a light, nor for a moment did I lose my self-control, although constantly expecting to be attacked by some unseen foe. Upon carefully examining my room there was not the slightest sign of any being, human or otherwise, with the exception of myself. Everything was still and as usual. I looked at my watch and found the time to be 5.40 A.M. My scalp smarted intensely, as it naturally would after such harsh treatment, and had I been near an Indian camp I could readily have believed that I had lost that important appendage, and without any great stretch of the imagination either.

"As there is no effect without a cause, and _vice versa_, I soon seated myself and endeavored to solve the meaning of the remarkable phenomenon just experienced. In a moment a terrible thought flashed upon my mind.

Perhaps some member of my family or near relative had died suddenly.

Hastily making my toilet I proceeded to the nearest telegraph station and impatiently awaited the arrival of the operator. My despatch was directed to my sister in New York, with whom my family were stopping at the time, and simply read, '_How are you all? Answer._' The reply, '_All well_,' caused me to breathe more freely, but the mystery was yet unexplained. I told the story to my friend Ole Bull, who became intensely interested, and often during our stay in California expressed a great deal of solicitude in the matter.

"I would here state _en pa.s.sant_, that the agreement made by my wife's father and myself did not recur to my mind. To be sure, Mr. Parsons had been dead more than five years, yet it seems to me quite remarkable that our old compact had not at once presented itself; but I felt convinced that this singular demonstration _meant_ something. Upon my return to New York I visited you in company with Ole Bull, and you kindly gave us a private sitting. The alphabet being called for, the following was rapped out: '_John, the man whom you discharged in San Francisco, was on the veranda of the hotel, and determined to execute his terrible threat.