The advent of one spirit to Elizabeth Knap, and his use of her organs of speech in carrying on a dialogue with the Rev. Samuel Willard, is distinctly stated by that trustworthy chronicler. Also, according to him, the girl saw vast hosts of similar beings—yes, more in number than any one present had ever seen men in their lives. Here, surely, is very strong testimony to the general fact that spirit action took sensible effect upon and among human beings away back in 1671-2, in the quiet inland town of Groton.
What is fit treatment of such facts and testimony from such a source? Should they be left unadduced and unalluded to, as they were by one elaborate historian? Should they be called outgrowths from “fraud and imposture,” as they were by another? Or should writers upon the subject, in manly way, both let the facts come forth and speak for themselves, and leave the sagacity and veracity of their exemplary chronicler above suspicion, till by facts, and fair deductions from them, they render it probable that Samuel Willard was the slave of such delusion as disqualified him for reasoning with common accuracy upon what his external senses perceived day after day and week after week? Shrinking, by an historian of New England’s witchcraft, from distinct notice of Willard’s deliberate and carefully drawn conclusions from facts transpiring in his presence, is not only a keeping back of important information, but possibly is an implication either that Willard himself was an unreliable witness, or a witness on the other side of the question, whose testimony would be troublesome. Generous blood boils with rebuke when boasted enlightenment either ignores or traduces the most competent and trustworthy transmitters of marvelous facts, where so doing facilitates command of room for setting up modern fancies in niches where ancient facts have rightful foothold.
On the good authority of Samuel Willard we find that Elizabeth Knap saw hosts of spirits, was roughly handled and spoken through by some of them, and by one who said he was not Satan, but a pretty black boy. This was a case of spirit manifestation.
THE MORSE FAMILY.
Late in the year 1679, in the part of old Newbury, Mass., which is now Newburyport, very many startling pranks occurred, of a kind which to-day are called physical manifestations. These clustered mostly in and around the dwelling-place of William Morse, an aged man, who with his wife, then sixty-five years old, and their little grandson, John Stiles, constituted the whole family.
Perusal of the records of this case has rendered it probable to us that Mrs. Morse, the little boy John, and a young mariner, Caleb Powell, who was frequently in at Morse’s house, were all distinctly mediumistic, and that their systems either supplied, or were used for holding, instrumental elements and forces which spirits used in imparting seeming vitality, will, self-guiding and motive powers to andirons, pots, kettles, trays, bedsteads, and many other implements and articles.
Beauty and attractiveness seldom drape the foundations of even very elegant and useful structures. Laborers digging trenches for foundations, and others placing stones therein, are frequently rough beings, in homely garbs, from whom the refined and sensitive often turn away as soon as politeness and civility permit. Yet, though rough, coarse, and unsightly materials go into foundations, and equally rough workmen lay them, the nature and quality of materials there used, and of work there performed, deserve inspection by any one whose duty, interest, or pleasure induces him to estimate with approximate accuracy the value and prospective utility of the structure which shall rest thereon.
Palpable, audible, visible pranks, seeming to be the willed actions of lifeless wood and iron, possibly occurred in the seventeenth, because they are common in the nineteenth century. Such pranks are foundations of arguments which prove a life after death. A table, a chair, or an andiron, manifesting all the usual signs of indwelling vitality, consciousness, intelligence, self-willed action, and of possessing animal senses and capacities, testifies to its being operated upon by some unseen intelligence more convincingly than can the lips of the wisest and truest man the world contains testify to any fact whatsoever which seems supernatural. Vitalized wood or iron speaks “as never man spake;” yes, as man, unless specially aided from outside of the visible world, can never speak; it addresses men’s external senses directly; it confides its teachings to the most trusted and most trustworthy conveyances of facts and truths to the mind within. The oft ridiculed, slurred, contemned antics of household furniture are signs put forth to human view by occult operators, whose stand-point, of vision and powers of comprehension enable them to use some natural laws and forces for affecting man and his interests, which human scientists have never clearly cognized, which schoolmen do not embrace in their philosophies, and therefore the cultured world generally has failed to put forth rational and satisfactory explanations of many marvels which the ocean of mystery is often buoying up on to its surface, where they become perceptible by human senses.
Modern mind has very extensively measured the credibility of witnesses to witchcraft facts much as the good woman did that of her “sailor boy.” On his return home from a voyage around the Hope, he soon began to describe what he had seen, and gave an account of flying fish. “Stop, stop, my son,” said the mother; “don’t talk like that; people can’t believe that, because fishes haven’t got no wings, and can’t fly.” “Well, mother,” replied Jack, “I’ll pass by the fish, and tell what happened in the Red Sea. When we weighed anchor there, we drew up on its flukes some spokes and felloes of Pharaoh’s chariot wheels.” “That, now,” rejoined the mother, “will do to tell; we can believe that, because that is in the Bible.”