The next evening Mrs. Post saw lights where my hands had been, and found in the ground several particles of solid phosphorus, being guided to the spot by seeing the phosphoric smoke rising through the ground, as well as by the luminosity of the spot. They (my friends) could not comprehend this mystery. They talked over the matter between themselves, and my friend Mr. Willets wrote me a letter, which I will here give.
| “No. 6, Pavonia Place, | } |
| Jersey City, November 24, 1857. |
“Dear Mrs. Brown:
“The members of the circle are expecting me to see you and have a talk with you respecting the manifestations of lights at Mr. Simeon Post’s house last week. I argued that the Spirits could produce phosphorus (in my opinion, accumulated from the atmosphere and medium forces of the circle combined). Mr. Post had not the least suspicion of anything wrong, but could not account for the lights appearing where your hands had been. I have stood by you always, and in this case have done so, saying that I know that you would not deceive any one. Can you explain this matter so that it will be satisfactory to the circle? You will not think hard of me for bringing this to your notice, and believe me to be your sincere friend,
“George Willets.”
This letter of course implied that I might have had—what had of course no foundation in fact—phosphorus on my fingers. Nor could I have much blamed any in whose mind such a thought might have arisen, however painful to me, or however unjust the suspicion.
Mr. Underhill had accompanied me to Jersey City. He was a friend of Mr. Post’s, who had invited him to join the circle. It was convenient for him to call for me, as it was on his way. I did not know that any one doubted the genuineness of the manifestations at Mr. Post’s, and judge of my painful astonishment when I read Mr. Willet’s letter. I knew I was innocent, but did not know that I could so prove myself. I prayed to the Most High to relieve me from this terrible imputation. Mr. Underhill felt sure of my innocence. In his own purity of heart he could not doubt me. His sister had become a medium, and spoke in unknown tongues. And his mother could move tables by placing her hands upon them. She is still with us, in full possession of her faculties.
“None know her, but to love her,
None name her, but to praise.”
Mr. Underhill came to my rescue in that dark hour of my life, when old and trusted friends wavered in opinion.
If this volume were to be limited in its circulation to New York City, where Mr. Underhill is conspicuously, while modestly, known in the business world through a long series of years, as President of one of its oldest and most solid Fire Insurance companies, it would not be necessary to say a word about his character for honor and veracity. It best becomes me to abstain from doing so, leaving to strangers to him to satisfy themselves by easy inquiries.