259. As affording support to the testimony which I have given, I deem it expedient to cite that of the Rev. Allen Putnam, formerly a Unitarian clergyman and preacher in Augusta, Maine, having been in the legislature of that State, and for some time editor of the New England Farmer. Mr. Putnam had the advantage of a theological and collegiate education at Harvard. I heard an able and erudite lecture from this worthy spiritualist, at Boston last October.
260. Mr. Putnam entered upon the investigation of the manifestations in July, 1852, nearly eighteen months before my investigation commenced. Like me, he began as an unbeliever, and was converted by communications received from the spirits of his wife and relatives, who had left this life. In a company ignorant of the fact that he had married twice, his first wife had made herself known to him, so as to create a conviction of her identity.
261. In the next place, his ancestors communicated with Mr. Putnam, so as to satisfy his mind that they were the beings they professed to be. I do not enter into the detail of the facts which created conviction in the mind of this respectable observer; my object is to show that other minds have gone through the process which has influenced mine, in order that sceptics may not “lay the flattering unction to their souls” that ’tis my madness speaks in favour, not their prejudices that speak against, the conclusions in which investigators of sound understanding have concurred.
262. Mr. Putnam alleges: “Some uncommon movements have occurred in my presence. I have seen a table moved without any visible power applied to it.”
263. The following narrative is taken from the pamphlet published by the author in question. It is quite characteristic of the variety of character found in the spheres. This juvenile spirit owed his education entirely to his schooling in the spirit world. It will be perceived that he died while yet an infant. (Page 34, Paragraph 3.)
264. “Entering a medium’s room one morning, I saw a gentlemanly, intelligent man, apparently about thirty, sitting at the table and putting questions. Soon a tiny rap was heard, and the name Natty was spelled out. ‘Who are you?’ said the man. ‘I am your brother;’ was the answer. ‘No,’ said the man, ‘I had no such brother.’ ‘You had,’ said the rapper. ‘No,’ said the man. ‘Yes,’ said the other. ‘Well, let us see,’ added the man. ‘How old were you, Natty, when you died?’ ‘Five days,‘ was the answer. ‘How long since you died?’ ‘Thirty-five years.’ The gentleman here bit his lip in thought, and said—‘I believe there was an infant brother who died before I was born, but I thought they called him Oliver.’ ‘No,’ was the response, ‘they called him Natty, and I am he.’ ‘Natty,’ said the man, ‘how do you know that I am your brother?’ ‘By love,’ he answered. ‘By love?’ said the questioner; ‘but don’t you love others as well as relatives?’ Ans. ‘We like others, and love relatives!’ ‘What,’ it was then asked—‘what is the difference between love and like?’ The word LOVE was immediately written in large letters, two or three inches long, and like was traced under it in very small letters. ‘Natty,’ continued the man, ‘you are not my brother, but are some one else, attempting to impose upon me.’ ‘I am your brother,’ was the earnest rejoinder. ‘Then, will you tell me what sphere you are in?’ ‘The fourth,’ he said. ‘The fourth, ah? Now I’ve caught you—for as you died in infancy, you was fitted for the seventh sphere when you left the earth.’ ‘I have been there;’ was the response. ‘Have been there, and yet are now in the fourth! how is that? are you moving backward? coming down?’ ‘No, I am an adviser in the fourth.’ ‘Adviser! what is that? a sort of superintendent?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Oh! you are in office, then?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Do you get any pay? We pay well for such things here.’ ‘Yes, I get pay.’ ‘What pay?’ ‘The pleasure of seeing those under me progress.’
265. “I then said to the gentleman stranger, ‘Sir, you have found your match, if not your brother. I think I would own the relationship;’ and in continuance I remarked, that this seemed to be a very bright, cheerful spirit; when there was written—‘I am always laughing.’
266. “My next remark was—‘Natty, I should like to make your acquaintance.’ ‘Hand out your card;’ was the instant response. Finding no card in my pocket, I wrote, secretly, on a slip of paper—‘Mr. Allen Putnam, Eustis St., Roxbury’—turned the paper over, placing the writing down upon the table, kept my hand over the paper, and asked Natty to make a copy. Instantly the medium’s hand wrote—Mr. A. P., U. St. Rox. The writing on my paper had been seen by me alone, and I was looking for a copy in full, but received only abbreviations, and those of every word, Eustis being reduced to the letter U. This closed my first interview with him.
267. “Some weeks afterward, when he was forgotten, the medium’s hand wrote, ‘Mr. A. P., U. St. Rox.—I have used your card.’ ‘Natty,‘ said I, ‘as you left the earth when very young, I would like to know how you learned the English language.’ He answered, ‘My mother knew it, I think;’ and asked, ‘Will you let my mamma come?’ ‘Certainly, with pleasure.’ And the following was written:
268. “‘My friend, you must not be angry with my darling boy. It ofttimes grieves me to have him, so pure, use such wild phrases. I am your friend, as a soldier in the cause.