In another place she says: “Once a conductor spoke to me. ‘I am not
aware of your name,’ he said (and I thought ‘No, my friend, and won’t
be aware of it just yet either!’) ‘but a Spirit here wishes you would
come up to the cabinet.’ I advanced, expecting to see some friend, and
there stood a Catholic priest, with his hand extended in blessing.
I knelt down and he gave me the usual benediction, and then closed
the curtain. ‘Did you know the Spirit?’ the conductor asked me. I
shook my head and he continued, ‘He was Father Hayes, the well known
priest in this city. I suppose you are a Catholic?’ I told him ‘Yes’
and went back to my seat. The conductor addressed me again ‘I think
Father Hayes must have come to pave the way for some of your friends,’
he said. ‘Here is a Spirit who says she has come for a lady by the
name of Florence, who has just crossed the sea. Do you answer to that
description?’ I was about to say yes when the curtain parted again
and my daughter ‘Florence’ ran across the room and fell into my arms.
‘Mother,’ she exclaimed, ‘I said I would come with you and look after
you, didn’t I?’ I looked at her. She was exactly the same in appearance
as when she came to me in England under the different mediumships of
Florence Cook, Arthur Coleman, Charles Williams and William Ellington.”
She tells of a business man who attended a seance every night and
presented a white flower to the Spirit of his wife who had died on
her wedding day eleven years before.[123] The book is full of such
incidents as these but I think enough have been repeated to show the
reader what it is necessary to believe to be a good Spiritualist.[124]
In Judge Edmonds’ book “Spiritualism,” we read that it was customary
to receive on blank sheets of paper messages from the Spirits of
well-known men; that Benjamin Franklin came in accompanied by two other
Spirits; that a pencil got up of its own accord and wrote five lines
of ancient Hebrew; that books were levitated from a table numerous
times, and a number of other incidents which drew upon the reader’s
imagination.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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