As a fair specimen of spirit photographs obtained through Mumler, I submit one (see opposite) got by the Hon. Moses A. Dow, who was editor and proprietor of the Waverley Magazine, Boston. The portrait was fully recognised by Mr. Dow as that of an amiable and accomplished young lady who had been his assistant editor. Before sitting for the portrait Mr. Dow had a séance with a lady medium, and received from her a message, which purported to be from his late assistant editor, instructing him when to go to Mumler’s for the picture, stating that she would appear with a wreath of lilies on her head, would stand by his side, would put her hand on his shoulder, and would bring him beautiful flowers. The photograph has lost some of its intensity; but in the original negative the wreath of white lilies is very distinct, and the spirit is holding between the thumb and forefinger of the left hand an opening moss-rosebud, the exact counterpart of one which Mr. Dow placed between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, while her body lay in the coffin just before the funeral.
Similar tests have been obtained in photographs by other mediums. On one occasion Mr. Parkes had a visit from a friend who had promised to spend a forenoon and try experiments, but he was unwilling to sit for a portrait owing to sudden and severe illness, which he said would prevent any success. He was induced by his wife to try. While Mr. Parkes was preparing a plate with collodion his friend sat down to compose himself, and at once he became conscious of the presence of a spirit form by the kindly way passes were made over his head, curing him entirely of his painful illness. On the plate being developed there was a graceful female form standing beside him, with her head bent downwards towards him, and behind her—extending outwards and upwards from her shoulders—there was a patch of light seemingly intended to represent wings. The sitter afterwards solved the enigma by stating that the influence from the spirit was of such a sweet and delightful character, that it led him to hum to himself his favourite hymn:—
“How delightful the thought that the Angels in bliss,
Daily bend their bright wings to a world such as this,
And leave the sweet songs of the mansions above,
To breathe on our bosoms some message of love.”
The imagery of the hymn found an embodiment in the photograph. “I have no wings—nor do I require wings,” subsequently explained the spirit, “but the appearance of wings was assumed to please father.” Her father was the sitter. Little thought he when waiting with a sad heart at the dying bed of a loved daughter, and trying to sing the children’s hymn, that the time would arrive when she would come from her spirit home to cheer him in hours of sorrow and give him her portrait, or that she would be able to render herself visible to normal sight, and with her arms round father and mother, kiss them both and speak to them both. Such are some of the secret blessings which come to those who wait, work, and pray.
“Thank God for this! oh, minist’ring angels, thanks!
My grateful heart