CHAPTER XXXI.
MISCELLANEOUS INCIDENTS (Continued).
Crowd of Spirits made Visible by Lightning—Scarcely Credible but True—A Game of Euchre—Margaret’s Dream—Mistaken Names Corrected by Spirits—An Unwilling Convert made Grateful and Happy.
CROWD OF SPIRITS MADE VISIBLE BY LIGHTNING.
One Sunday evening, in Ludlow Place, occurred the grandest manifestations of Spirit presence I ever witnessed or heard of. Our good friend Dr. A. D. Wilson and his friend Dr. Kirby had come in the Doctor’s carriage; and, as a great thunder-storm was gathering fast overhead, he ordered the carriage home, to return at nine o’clock, or when the storm should be over. We sat round the table in my private room on the second floor, four of us—the two gentlemen, mother, and myself. Soon the vivid lightning flashed and the near thunder rolled and rattled overhead: while in the intervals the blackest of darkness was around us, the Spirits having directed us not to have lights. The “raps” bade us to sing: and, my mother leading, we sang the Methodist hymn: “I’m a pilgrim; I’m a stranger,” etc. (my father and mother were Methodists). But as the peals and flashes came so mightily I was afraid, and thought it unseemly for us to sing in the presence of these grand manifestations of the lights and the voices of the heavens. Presently Dr. Wilson started up with the exclamation, “Oh my God! there’s my mother,” and we all saw a form in the doorway leading from our room to another in the rear. And then, to his friend Dr. Kirby, “And there’s your mother with her arms around your neck!” And then again to my mother, “Oh, Mrs. Fox, there’s your noble father by you!” And we all saw the Spirits.
The whole room was crowded with a glorious company of Spirits!
We would see them only by the flashes of the lightning. When the flash had vanished, all was blackness; but, on its return, there they were still, different forms and with varying features; and they looked as natural as when in this—our life. What were our feelings? How could I express, or who will need that I should attempt to do so? We all responded deeply to Dr. Wilson’s exclamation, “I would not have missed this for all the world! Oh, who after such a sight could ever again commit a sin?”
It would seem that while we had no Spiritual sight to see them clairvoyantly in the darkness, they could bear the electric brightness of the lightning which revealed them to our eyes.
A deep awe rested on us all, and we all united in the following beautiful old Methodist hymn which my mother sang. Many a time afterward we have sat in the hope of a repetition of this glorious spectacle; and Dr. Wilson would come when there seemed some prospect of thunder and lightning. But it never came again. Perhaps there was something in the quiet solemnity of that Sabbath hour which prompted it to the Spirits; and once shown, it was enough: for memory could not but keep it ever fresh in our minds, as it is and will forever remain in mine.
What’s this that steals, that steals upon my frame,
Is it death, is it death?
That soon will quench, will quench this vital frame,
Is it death, is it death?
If this is death, I soon shall be
From every pain and sorrow free,
I shall the King of Glory see,
All is well, all is well!
Weep not, my friends, my friends, weep not for me,
All is well, all is well,
My sins are pardoned, pardoned, I am free,
All is well, all is well.
There’s not a cloud that does arise,
To hide my Saviour from my eyes,
I soon shall mount the upper skies,
All is well, all is well.