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DEVOTED TO RATIONAL SPIRITUALISM ATSTD PEA OTTOA T i REFORM, A. E. NEWTON AND S. B. BRITTAN, EDITORS. PRINCIPAL OFFICE OF PUBLICATION, AT NO. 14 BROMFIELD STREET, (UP STAIRS,) BOSTON, MASS. TERMS, TWO DOLLARS A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. N EW SERIES. BOSTON, N EW YO RK A N D CHICAGO, SA TU R D A Y , M AY 28, 1859. V O L . I I .... N O . 2 2 . anb |ltfora literature. . IWRlTTaa EIFSBS8LT FOR THS JPIIITC1L 101.] THE IMPROVISATORE: TORN LEAVES FROM LIFE-HISTORIES. . BT EKKi HABDINGE. - PAGE EIGHTH, AND LAST. A coroner’s inquest ia at all times a dreary scene; but nev- er more so' than when bright summer air, beautiful surround- ings and wealth spread out their luxurious pages of contrast to the deep and solemn mystery of death. We may bid the aged God speed in the exchange of the old worn out garment df clay for the bridal robes of immortal-youth. We see the dark angel bearing away the half famished children of poverty, or the sinking mariners in the sea of criminal temptation, and say, Thank God their weary life-pilgrimage is over ! And yet violence in the means, the sacrilegious hand of man raised against the only gate which the Creator has inscrutably veiled from bis prying eyes—that of life—always awakens a feeling of awe and hopeless grief which no other sight can kindle up. And that violence against the young—oh what a fearful mistake ! Against the rich and happy— what a mockery of the power of wealth, to protect, or of fortune’s gifts to confer happiness. Such was the sentiment that unconsciously spread tha pall of gloomy silence over the Hall where a large and wondering throng was assembled to consider the means by which Gabri- elle, Countess of Ravensworth, the high, noble, beautiful, and wealthy lady of one of the fairest Earldoms in Eugland, had oome by her death. True there was little or no cause for this inquiry in the external circumstanooa of the case. The beau- tiful young lady had somehow sickened in the atmosphere of splendor; languished beneath the weight of her coronet. ’Twas enough to gaze into her mournful eyes, to know that she was not happy. Every one knew this; and every one formed his own conclusions as to the cause. The cold, proud peer at her side, and the dream-like gaze of those wandering eyes of her’s looking into the far, far distance, perhaps on the red battle plains of Hungary or into the dark dungeons of Austria—“ Ah! well-a-dayJ .” said the busy world— “ they aro an ill-assorted coaple, and good cannot come of it.” But now she was dead, •why not of a broken heart? “ Pshaw!” The man of medicine knows nothing more about hearts, than as huge lumps of flesh whioh do not crack without physical causes. “ Spirit hearts !” and the effect of spirits on fleshly hearts ! “ Stuff!” There is no such thing.” The Lady had changed much of late— hollow cheeks, totter- ing steps, eyes now blazing with fever and anon sinking like paling stare, are all suggestive—but all and every possible and impossible cause for the rapid and premature death was silenced by a report of tbe tremendous charge made by a foreign sol- dier, on the night when the disconsolate husband, returned to find his wife a corpse— two strangers in foreign uniforms standing beside the gloomy bier, and one of these in the presence of his own servants, greeting him with the ominous words, “ Wel- come, murderer!” A t first, indeed, the compassionate nobleman would not con- descend to resent this frantic expression. “ The poor creature •who used it had been an old lover of the lady’s in by-gone days, and under the influence of long captivity had lost his wits.” But his companion was noticed to be singularly self- possessed, gentleman-like, and composed in his bearing— any- thing but crazy; and when he in calm yet resolute phrase told tho steward that he had evidence to show that Lady Ravensworth had died of poison, and that the author of her death was the Lord of the castle, and that he, Lieutenant Augustine A ------ , intended to make his charge good, then indeed, things began to waar a somewhat portentous aspect. His Lordship was most respectfully informed he must be detained under guard to re- fute this monstrous charge; and despite hia sneers and indig- nation, detained he was. The nature or rather details of the accusation against him did not at first appear; but when after a careful post mortem examination of the. body, it was clearly ascertained that death resulted from the administration of a violent and most deadly poison, those details were called for in the imperative name of a Coroner’s inquest. None awaited the result of these proceedings with bo muoh indifference as the Earl himself. He had ascertained that the soldiers did not arrive till the very instant that the countess died. He had no fear of her having made any confession to Mrt. Martin; for she was as much astonished as any one at the assumption of death from poison. He therefore inferred that the whole charge was but a supposition on the part of her unhappy lover. But when the young Lieutenant Augustine A— i— proceeded to explain the nature of the accusation, the confusion of the Earl became infinitely greater than the aston- ishment: of the Jurors. He had travelled with his friend Ernest Rossi, he stated, from I'— — -stadt to England for the purpose of visiting La 8ignorina Gabrielle. Both were unaware of her marriage till recently; and when the witness (Augastine) heard the news, he strove to conceal it from his charge, lest he (in very preca- rious health,) should suffer by the intelligence. Accustomed to receive many strange but truthful revelations through his friend’s gift of Clairvoyance (a word which made the jurors start and glance over their shoulders) he had heard him de- scribe on a certain night the castle of Ravensworth in accurate detail—the appearance of the Countess, her action in wander- ing into the gardens at midnight, her gathering the laurel leaves, concocting or distilling from them a deadly poison, the return of the Earl, his sleeping apartment— the stealthy visit of the wretched wife, and the attempted substitution of the cup of poison for the night draught— the sudden act of detec- tion on the part of the justly exasperated, intended victim, and his cruel retaliation in forcing the miserable woman to be her own executioner. The confirming testimony of this miraculous story was the witness of innumerable' persons that the two strangers had on- ly arrived on the English shores just as the countess’s express- es had reached them; that they could therefore have had no previous knowledge of the castle and its details before they arrived at the hour of Gabrielle’s decease, since which, to the period of the Earl’s return, the testimony of every domestic was equally positive concerning the impossibility of their hav- ing seen one single spot so accurately described, or communi- cated with one of the inhabitants of the castle. The whole strength of the charge, then, lay in the unques- tionable fact that the Seer had pronounced the lady poisoned before the medical examinants knew of the fact; and had moreover so minutely described the condition of the remains under the action of the poison that the whole of the medical staff were fairly bewildered;. whilst every scene and even the minutest articles of furniture connected with the localities where the trag«Uy waH .cuscxea, 'was given ~witn a WeTity whioh placed the intelligence (come from where it might) be- yond all question. The scrutinizing cross-examination of Augustine, and the castle domestics, closed this part of the testimony. Bat when the jurors were sitting in absolute perplexity, what to do or say next, it suddenly occurred to the coroner, that it might be well to question the subject of this strange revelation in per- son ; and after some objections on the part of Augustine, over- ruled by the awakened curiosity of the Court, it was decided that the Improvisatore should be summoned to appear. How wonderful is the influence which attaches to each hu- man being, stamping with an individuality far exceeding all effect of place, time, or circumstance, a character on every member of the human family which never can be masked by hypocrisy, or simulated by effort. Spirit is the only reality in all creation. Forms and mere externals are shadowy chang- ing things, impressing each beholder with ,a painful sense of something hidden, something transitory, and unreal. But spirit is a truth, the only truth, a portion of the changeless being of God. Smiles, tears, speech, and deeds, may all be so many masks to cover the real thought or purpose ; but that nameless something which each human presence brings, is the magnetic scale in which external forms when robed in false- hood, are weighed in the balance and found wanting. Ernest Rossi came. Those who had seen the noble soldier two short years ago— strong, vigorous, and active,—the moun- tain air glowing in ruddy health upon his cheek, the light of youth and gladness dancing in his eyes— would scarcely have recognized the pale, sad stranger who now stood in court.— While still and impassive as the sculptured marble was that most noble face; large and lustrous as the lonely eveuing star those mild dark eyes; and slightly bowed as with the shadow of a long and weary life, that once tall, graceful form. “ What a wreck they’ve made of my beautiful, my brave !” thought poor Mrs. Martin, as with swimming eyes she looked upon her favorite. And yet as he entered that gloomy hall, and stood before the curious gazers, so still, and abstracted from the passing ing scene— he brought with him the potent presence of his truthful mind, his pure, unselfish nature, and that inborn dig- nity whioh repels the shafts of lower minds as ocean’s might absorbs the drops of rain. Before he came, the very name of Clairvoyance suggested to the ignorant minds of self-conceit, nothing but charlatanism or the dreams of lunacy. In his presence something like re- speot mingled with awe prompted every tongue to hush the sneer or change it into admiration. To every question he gave such simple, yet straight-forward answers, that the testimony of his friend Augustine seemed to loom out in obstinate defi- ance of all power to shake. And once more the nonplussed jurors gazed at each other with looks that clearly asked, “ What’s next to do, or say 7” Up to this point Lord Ravensworth had remained in pro- found silence, and half concealed by the drapery of a window from the searching eyes of the curious. Now, however, bend- ing forward, he asked with a quivering lip and voice which shook despite his efforts to conceal his agitation beneath a sneer of absurd indifference, “ I f the gentleman expects to convict an English Peer of murder, upon the faith of his magical pow- ers, may it not be fair to demand some evidence that his won- drous facility for prying into other people’s concerns is not the result of collusion with my servants, or even my late un- happy lady?” . A murmur of assent ran through the court, emboldened by which the Earl proceeded : “ Pray, Mister Ernest Rossi, could you (being as you have shown, at that time at Dover) see where I was yesterday at noon %—exactly, mark! at noon?" “ In Bevis wood,” replied the Seer, “ and tying up your horse to the third oak tree on the left of the forest gate.” The Earl changed color, yet proceeded: “ Where is that horse then now, may 1 ask ? for, truth to say, I had forgotten him, and left him there.” “ Then you did so tie him up, my Lord, and at that hour,” interrupted one of the keenest jurors. Lord Ravensworth’s counsel started, whilst the Earl (though conscious of the mistake he had made) coolly added, “ What of that? Does it require an angel from heaven to reveal a fact which any passing boor might have Eeen and reported ?” “ We have the fact,” replied the juror. “ Let your lordship produce the passing boor ; if not, the witness at leaBt speaks truth.” “ Granted,” replied his lordship. “ What next, most won- drous Seer ?” “ Your Lordship has forgotten to change your dress since yesterday at twilight, when in tearing through a thicket, so rough, that never human foot except in wild unrest like yours would seek its shelter, you tore the wristband of your sleeve, and left the fragment hanging on a bush just where the sodden ground bears three distinct imprints of your advancing footsteps.” “ This is too absurd !” cried Lord Ravensworth, starting up with nslvu nallor Jin—.—J i:«—» “ *■» 1 to be thus in- sulted !” “ My Lord! who injures you 7” quietly demanded the Coroner. “ Officer; examine his lordship’s dress. Nay, you yourself demanded the test of this man’s power ; and justice requires the test of his truth.” Ashamed to struggle, yet with sullen anger on his brow, Lord Ravensworth had the mortification of disclosing the torn wrist- band of his shirt, hitherto concealed by his coat-sleeve in such a manner that it was impossible the keenest eyes could have detected it. From mere respect to his rank, no remark was made at this seemingly superhuman evidence, slight as it was, of a spirit-police in the midst of the human justice-room ; but when by order of the Cororner, servants were dispatched to s earch the thicket; and under the guidance of a map of the way hastily traced out by the Improvisatore, the Earl’s footprints were found, and measured, and the scrap of torn linen actually discovered hanging as the Seer had described it, in an almost impenetrable part of the thicket—when this, compared with the Earl’s dress and found to match, was considered, in addition to conclusive testimony that the witness was at the very time of tbe occurrence two'hundred miles away, and never could have had an opportunity of visting the spot in question, and no other footprints than the Earl’s were found, clearly demonstrating that no human watcher could have passed that spot— the in- vestigation, complex as it appeared to grow from the admixture of the supernatural in its details, gained in interest, what it lost in comprehensibility. “ Would that the dead could speak !” exclaimed one of the harassed jurors. “ Lieutenant Rossi, oould you not tell us something of the Lady ? some surer token by which we might connect this most mysterious and unhappy death with him whom you accuse 7” “ The dead! There are no dead. She lives and stands amongst us.” Such was the startling response which fell from the lips of the Seer, as with fixed eyes and rapt unnatural glare, he seemed to gaze on vacancy. The twilight was now fast thickening round the court; the waves of gloom seemed pouring over the high carved ceiling of the vast dim hall; stags heads, and branching antlers, loomed from the walls like fabled goblins; the flickering light came fitfully from huge high gothic windows, falling on the suits of armor ranged against the panels until they looked like frown- ing phantoms of the knights of old, ready to step from their dark recesses, and do battle for the murdered lady. Around the long hall table which had so often groaned with the weight of jovial hospitality, sat the twelve grave men, booted and spurred like country Squires; and far in the back ground, the crowd of anxious, terrified domestics, peasants and retainers of the castle. The folds of a heavy crimson curtain on the right, fell round the tall and rigid form of Ravensworth, as with folded arms and lips compressed he stood like a picture, grim and yet defiant, shrouded in its masses. Opposite to him, a fine, arched, painted window reflected the last gleams of the sinking orb of day. All else was gloom but this one spot; and there in its golden glory stood tho noble Improvisa- atore. A halo of yellow and purple light fell on his form ; his marble features caught the ruddy glow, and round his lofty brow the refracted rays lingered as in some picture of a saint traced by a Raffaelle’s genius. The eager listeners gazing spell- bound on him, bent with straining ears to catch the solemn tones of his sweet but plaintive voice as once more he murmur- ed, “ She lives and stands amongst us. Poor broken flower ! Unhappy Gabrielle! See, now, she raises her small, pale hand. Alas !. one slender finger’s broken—bent and disjointed like a bruised reed. He did it — Ravensworth— when with rude and cruel grasp, he tore the plain gold sign of her betrothal from her finger. I 6ee him now, and her, poor, writhing lamb ! Her tender hand is disjointed, yet no cry escapes her. My first gift, and my last; what has he done with it? Tell me, fleet- ing shadow, Gabrielle; oh show m e! Where is my ring!— The swamp;—go seek it there. Beneath the third soft foot- print, her cruel murderer hid it. My spirit-Love, I thank thee! Fare thee well— farewell !” The spell was over; the Seer was silent; and the deeply moved jurors resumed their" painful task. On farther inqui- ry it was remembered that Lady Ravensworth had worn anoth- er plain gold ring, besides her wedding one. This on the corpse was missing ; yet although her attendants, Mrs. Mar- tin, and all who had approached her since the night of the al- leged tragedy, had failed to remark anything particular in her right hand— though she had never complained or mentioned the injury to a single creature—upon the suggestion of the above recorded broken sentences, the right hand of the unfor- tunate Lady was examined, when it was found that the third finger had been recently dislocated, while the skin, was torn and scathed as if by violence. The discovery of the missing -ring too, just where “ the third soft footprint” revealed the presence of the Earl in the deep and swampy thicket, complet- ed the chain of this -most marvellous evidence. And yet, what did it all amount to ? Lady Ravensworth was dead, poisoned; that was clear.— But the old adage that “ the dead tell no tales,’’ was not to be suv aaiuclur lucxaY iuga ui vt, ■'uracB.-uraincu visiuuary —-espeO ially when the honor of a rich and noble Lord, a statesman, landlord, and a powerful Peer, were all to be called in ques- tion. What if bis Lordship did spend the day from noon to eve in wandering in deep thickets— hiding his lady’s former lover’s ring— and late at night returning so abstracted that he left behind him his favorite, fleetest horse, tied to a tree at least some tea miles from the place where he must have wan- dered on foot 7 What if ambitious maids of low degree wed haughty lords and die like blighted flowers— crushed out of life when their purchasers are weary of them? The broken finger, like the poisoned cup, were secrets belonging to eterni- ty. Dreadful only and most presumptuous was that mysterious power by which the privacy of souls could be unveiled, and the voiceless air reveal the mystery which should slumber with the silent dead. And thus did justice reason, till at last the populace, at- tracted by the strange reports which everywhere like wild-fire spread from the inquest room, began to take a fierce and threat- ening tone against the unfortunate Improvisatore. His Lordship’s lawyers were shrewd and active men.— O f course they knew, as all the world must know, that the Earl of Ravensworth was innocent. They were fully confident no blame, not even the lightest shadow, could attach to a nobleman “ so good and so distinguished.” But the fact that any for- foreign vagrants should dare to pry on English Noble’s privacy — and worse than all that they should dare to tell such start- ling facts that clumsy juries and the common people were forced to believe their truth—this was the most atrocious part of all. At first the villagers, who loved the generous lady and were deeply struck by the noble bearing of the strange but truthful witness, were sullen and discontented, and instead of rejoicing when they heard that their landlord and patron was fully and “ honorably" discharged of all blame, by the verdict of the jury— namely, of “ felo de se,”— were disposed to vent their indignation in muttered curses and half uttered threats. Before the day succeeding the close of the inquest was fully ended, however, the tone of the whole community was changed. The taverns wero full; every ale house for miles around was thronged with drunken revellers; while his Lordship’s friends, lawyers, men of business, and retainers, were every where re- markably busy, haranguing half intoxicated and highly excit- ed listeners, his lordship’s gold flowed through the streets like water, and his lordship’s name was cheered and shouted, with golden and drunken zeal. ’Twas in the midst of such a scene as this, that late at night the announcement rang like a thunder peal that the strange witness and his companion had been arrested on the charge of “ conspiracy.” From ten o’clock till nearly twelve, knots of men might be seen standing at the corners of the va- rious streets and lanes that led from the Castle (where ’twas said the Court was sitting, before which the new criminals were being examined) to the village gaol, where they might be expected to be detained. ’Twas remembered afterwards, how many strangers were abroad that night— how many, too, that passed from group to group, seeming to whisper something then pass on. And still the gold, the castle gold, flew through these groups like trash. Why was it that without any apparent concert or given signal, without a leader or the least attempt, that any cou de'ect, at order or design, the scattered groups, just as the bell chimed midnight, seemed as by some universal impulse to draw towards a common centre—that cen- - a . tre— that castle road 7 On they went, larger and strong- er masses, until they lined the path; and though none * manifested any special purpose, or spoke of why they gathered in that spot, their silent concentrated purpose told some under- stood but hidden meaning more certainly than speech. Ani there they stood, or seemed to linger rather, in stern but sullen silence, like a brooding thunder storm. On they come; man . and yet more they come; and these, too, pause; no questions asked ; no other object gained than there to congregate in mas- sive lines ahd wait. What are they waiting for? In one of the foremost groups a low whisper might be heard, from one who seemed almost afraid to trust his voice with ths the question, “ Where is my lady buried, can yon tell ?" “ Hush! Be still. They come!” was the sharp reply. A moment’s pause, and then the tramp of horsemen and tiie roll of carriage wheels. The night was very dark, bat the foremost horsemen carried pine torches, which for a short space lit up the scene with a dull, red, fiery glare. First rode half a dozen mounted constables; and then a troupe of the cas- tle domestics, surrounding two carriages, the first o f which con- tained the magistrates who had been assisting at the late ex- amination, and the second the two Hungarian offioers—the presence of a fresh troupe of mounted constables surrounding this vehicle, clearly intimating that its inmates were priaonen under a judicial escort. No sooner did this part of the procession come into view by the light of the torches, than the main object of the gathering appeared to be gained. With a yell like that of the wildest savageism, the lingering masses rushed upon the carriage, dash- ing the horsemen aside; and either through their feeble re- “ Tear the magician into pieces!” strove to obtain forcible possession of the person of the prisoners. How far this movement was the result of preconcerted or- der— whether such order was the arrangement of the desperate Earl, bent on the destruction of his dreaded enemy, fearing to let him go free, yet fearing still more to trust him again before a judicial court— or treachery amongst the trained rioten,— the spirit power that reads the human heart, alone can tell. ’Twas evident that most of the villagers, although exrated b j partial intoxication, were equally unprepared for this savage movement, and indisposed to further it. Most of these drew back in terror; whilst the magistrates, and some of the con- stables—not all— proceeded to render prompt assistance to the helpless prisoners. It was amongst the strangers chiefly (some of whom, with slouched hats and besmeared visages, wore the evi- dent appearance of disguise) that the cries and nproarcame. I t seemed, too, as if they hoped, by shouts, frantic gestures, and an appeal to the superstitious feelings of the people, to goad them to attack the prisoners: the whisperers were nowhere to beseen; but now the effect of their words was clearly to be tested; for while the chiefs of the ruffian mob began to drag the captives from the carriage, and even to attack their defenders with sticks and stones, the villagers (especially those who had been present at tiie trial) repeatedly exclaimed, “I don’t believe one word of it.” That fine young fellow only told the truth; and if there’s magic in it, ’tis nearer home than with that noble foreigner.” The crowd was divided then ; and perhaps a reaction among the better thinking of the mass might not only have protected the prisoners, but even have set them free,—when, a sadden flash from a distant clamp of trees lighted ap the scene with a momentary glare;— then a lond report, and Ernest Rossi springing from the ground,- fell back on his friend Augustine’s arm—his last earth battle fought. . The strife was hushed; a deathly stillness reigned; when in the midst of the affrighted group, Lord Ravensworth, white as his dying foe, appeared upon the scene. “ In the name of the king and justice,” he cried, without a falter in his loud, harsh tone,— “I command yon, one and all, to point out to me the man who fired that shot— Ralph, Hor- ton, Leonard!'’ he added taming from one to the other in stern appeal, “ Who was it? Speak! In the name of onr liege lord and justice, I require you to yield up the rash, bad man.” Who was to speak 7 No one had seen the murderer, hidden by the woods; and until the Earl appeared upon the scene, al- though it was natural enough to infer that an aproar so near his castle might have drawn him forth to enquire the cause, still no one had till then remarked him, much less any one amongst the groups was there who carried arms at alL A ll were Bilent then—but one. Raised npon his faithful friend’s strong arm, the dying eyes of Ernest fell fall apon the cower* ing, shuddering Earl. She forgave you, Ravensworth,” he murmured, “ and*so do L Can you forgive yourself 7 Augastine, dear companion, faithful friend—farewell! I ’m going home.” . . . . They laid the Countess in her stately vault. The deep bell tolled; the midnight torches flashed; the solemn requiem rolled its echoing tones in many a proad cathedral aisle and chapel, m many a solemn priory and convent, in grand high masses fiw the sainted soul of Countess Gabrielle. The long array of dark funereal pomp consigned her to the splendid mausoleum, where Ravensworth’s proud ancestry were laid.

DEVOTED TO RATIONAL SPIRITUALISM ATSTD PEA OTTO A T i …€¦ · wealthy lady of one of the fairest Earldoms in Eugland, had oome by her death. True there was little or no cause

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Page 1: DEVOTED TO RATIONAL SPIRITUALISM ATSTD PEA OTTO A T i …€¦ · wealthy lady of one of the fairest Earldoms in Eugland, had oome by her death. True there was little or no cause

DEVOTED TO RATIONAL SPIRITUALISM ATSTD PEA OTTO A T i REFORM,A. E. NEWTON AND S. B. BRITTAN, EDITORS. PRINCIPAL OFFICE OF PUBLICATION, AT NO. 14 BROMFIELD STREET, (UP STAIRS,) BOSTON, MASS. TERMS, TWO DOLLARS A YEAR, IN ADVANCE.

N E W S E R I E S . B O S T O N , N E W Y O R K A N D C H I C A G O , S A T U R D A Y , M A Y 2 8 , 1 8 5 9 . V O L . I I . . . . N O . 2 2 .

a n b | l t f o r a l i t e r a t u r e .. I W R l T T a a E I F S B S 8 L T F O R THS J P I I I T C 1 L 1 0 1 . ]

THE IMPROVISATORE:

T O R N L E A V E S F R O M L I F E - H I S T O R I E S .. B T E K K i H A B D I N G E .

- P A G E E I G H T H , A N D L A S T .

A coroner’s inquest ia at all times a dreary scene; but nev­er more so ' than when bright summer air, beautiful surround­ings and wealth spread out their luxurious pages of contrast to the deep and solemn mystery of death. We may bid the aged God speed in the exchange of the old worn out garment df clay for the bridal robes of immortal-youth. W e see the dark angel bearing away the half famished children of poverty, or the sinking mariners in the sea of criminal temptation, and say, Thank God their weary life-pilgrimage is over ! And yet violence in the means, the sacrilegious hand of man raised against the only gate which the Creator has inscrutably veiled from bis prying eyes— that of life—always awakens a feeling of awe and hopeless grief which no other sight can kindle up. And that violence against the young— oh what a fearful mistake ! Against the rich and happy— what a mockery of the power of wealth, to protect, or of fortune’s gifts to confer happiness.

Such was the sentiment that unconsciously spread tha pall of gloomy silence over the Hall where a large and wondering throng was assembled to consider the means by which Gabri­elle, Countess o f Ravensworth, the high, noble, beautiful, and wealthy lady of one o f the fairest Earldoms in Eugland, had oome by her death. True there was little or no cause for this inquiry in the external circumstanooa o f the case. The beau­tiful young lady had somehow sickened in the atmosphere of splendor; languished beneath the weight of her coronet. ’Twas enough to gaze into her mournful eyes, to know that she was not happy. Every one knew this; and every one formed his own conclusions as to the cause. The cold, proud peer at her side, and the dream-like gaze of those wandering eyes of her’s looking into the far, far distance, perhaps on the red battle plains of Hungary or into the dark dungeons of Austria—“ Ah! well-a-dayJ.” said the busy world— “ they aro an ill-assorted coaple, and good cannot come of it.” But now she was dead, •why not of a broken heart? “ Pshaw!” The man of medicine knows nothing more about hearts, than as huge lumps of flesh whioh do not crack without physical causes. “ Spirit hearts !” and the effect of spirits on fleshly hearts ! “ Stuff!” There isno such thing.”

The Lady had changed much of late— hollow cheeks, totter­ing steps, eyes now blazing with fever and anon sinking like paling stare, are all suggestive— but all and every possible and impossible cause for the rapid and premature death was silenced by a report o f tbe tremendous charge made by a foreign sol­dier, on the night when the disconsolate husband, returned to find his wife a corpse— two strangers in foreign uniforms standing beside the gloomy bier, and one of these in the presence of his own servants, greeting him with the ominous words, “ Wel­come, murderer!”

A t first, indeed, the compassionate nobleman would not con­descend to resent this frantic expression. “ The poor creature •who used it had been an old lover of the lady’s in by-gone days, and under the influence of long captivity had lost his wits.” But his companion was noticed to be singularly self­possessed, gentleman-like, and composed in his bearing— any­thing but crazy; and when he in calm yet resolute phrase told tho steward that he had evidence to show that Lady Ravensworth had died of poison, and that the author of her death was theLord of the castle, and that he, Lieutenant Augustine A ------ ,intended to make his charge good, then indeed, things began to waar a somewhat portentous aspect. His Lordship was most respectfully informed he must be detained under guard to re­fute this monstrous charge; and despite hia sneers and indig­nation, detained he was. The nature or rather details o f the accusation against him did not at first appear; but when after a careful post mortem examination of the. body, it was clearly ascertained that death resulted from the administration of a violent and most deadly poison, those details were called for in the imperative name of a Coroner’s inquest.

None awaited the result o f these proceedings with bo muoh indifference as the Earl himself. He had ascertained that the soldiers did not arrive till the very instant that the countess died. He had no fear of her having made any confession to Mrt. Martin; for she was as much astonished as any one at the assumption of death from poison. He therefore inferred that the whole charge was but a supposition on the part of her unhappy lover. But when the young Lieutenant Augustine A—i— proceeded to explain the nature o f the accusation, the confusion of the Earl became infinitely greater than the aston­ishment: o f the Jurors.

H e had travelled with his friend Ernest Rossi, he stated, from I'— —-stadt to England for the purpose of visiting La 8ignorina Gabrielle. Both were unaware of her marriage till recently; and when the witness (Augastine) heard the news, he strove to conceal it from his charge, lest he (in very preca­

rious health,) should suffer by the intelligence. Accustomed to receive many strange but truthful revelations through his friend’s gift of Clairvoyance (a word which made the jurors start and glance over their shoulders) he had heard him de­scribe on a certain night the castle of Ravensworth in accurate detail—the appearance of the Countess, her action in wander­ing into the gardens at midnight, her gathering the laurel leaves, concocting or distilling from them a deadly poison, the return of the Earl, his sleeping apartment— the stealthy visit of the wretched wife, and the attempted substitution of the cup of poison for the night draught— the sudden act of detec­tion on the part of the justly exasperated, intended victim, and his cruel retaliation in forcing the miserable woman to be her own executioner.

The confirming testimony of this miraculous story was the witness of innumerable' persons that the two strangers had on­ly arrived on the English shores just as the countess’s express­es had reached them; that they could therefore have had no previous knowledge of the castle and its details before they arrived at the hour of Gabrielle’s decease, since which, to the period of the Earl’s return, the testimony of every domestic was equally positive concerning the impossibility of their hav­ing seen one single spot so accurately described, or communi­cated with one of the inhabitants of the castle.

The whole strength of the charge, then, lay in the unques­tionable fact that the Seer had pronounced the lady poisoned before the medical examinants knew of the fact; and had moreover so minutely described the condition of the remains under the action of the poison that the whole of the medical staff were fairly bewildered;. whilst every scene and even the minutest articles of furniture connected with the localities where the trag«Uy waH .cuscxea, 'was given~witn a WeTity whioh placed the intelligence (come from where it might) be­yond all question.

The scrutinizing cross-examination of Augustine, and the castle domestics, closed this part of the testimony. Bat when the jurors were sitting in absolute perplexity, what to do or say next, it suddenly occurred to the coroner, that it might be well to question the subject of this strange revelation in per­son ; and after some objections on the part of Augustine, over­ruled by the awakened curiosity of the Court, it was decided that the Improvisatore should be summoned to appear.

How wonderful is the influence which attaches to each hu­man being, stamping with an individuality far exceeding all effect of place, time, or circumstance, a character on every member of the human family which never can be masked by hypocrisy, or simulated by effort. S p irit is the only reality in all creation. Forms and mere externals are shadowy chang­ing things, impressing each beholder with ,a painful sense of something hidden, something transitory, and unreal. But spirit is a truth, the only truth, a portion of the changeless being of God. Smiles, tears, speech, and deeds, may all be so many masks to cover the real thought or purpose ; but that nameless something which each human presence brings, is the magnetic scale in which external forms when robed in false­hood, are weighed in the balance and found wanting.

Ernest Rossi came. Those who had seen the noble soldier two short years ago— strong, vigorous, and active,— the moun­tain air glowing in ruddy health upon his cheek, the light of youth and gladness dancing in his eyes— would scarcely have recognized the pale, sad stranger who now stood in court.— While still and impassive as the sculptured marble was that most noble face; large and lustrous as the lonely eveuing star those mild dark eyes; and slightly bowed as with the shadow of a long and weary life, that once tall, graceful form.

“ What a wreck they’ve made of my beautiful, my brave !” thought poor Mrs. Martin, as with swimming eyes she looked upon her favorite.

And yet as he entered that gloomy hall, and stood before the curious gazers, so still, and abstracted from the passing ing scene— he brought with him the potent presence of his truthful mind, his pure, unselfish nature, and that inborn dig­nity whioh repels the shafts of lower minds as ocean’s might absorbs the drops of rain.

Before he came, the very name of Clairvoyance suggested to the ignorant minds of self-conceit, nothing but charlatanism or the dreams of lunacy. In his presence something like re- speot mingled with awe prompted every tongue to hush the sneer or change it into admiration. To every question he gave such simple, yet straight-forward answers, that the testimony of his friend Augustine seemed to loom out in obstinate defi­ance of all power to shake. And once more the nonplussed jurors gazed at each other with looks that clearly asked, “ What’s next to do, or say 7”

Up to this point Lord Ravensworth had remained in pro­found silence, and half concealed by the drapery of a window from the searching eyes of the curious. Now, however, bend­ing forward, he asked with a quivering lip and voice which shook despite his efforts to conceal his agitation beneath a sneer of absurd indifference, “ I f the gentleman expects to convict an English Peer of murder, upon the faith o f his magical pow­ers, may it not be fair to demand some evidence that his won­drous facility for prying into other people’s concerns is not

the result of collusion with my servants, or even my late un­happy lady?” .

A murmur of assent ran through the court, emboldened by which the Earl proceeded : “ Pray, Mister Ernest Rossi, could you (being as you have shown, at that time at Dover) see where I was yesterday at noon%—exactly, m ark! at noon?"

“ In Bevis wood,” replied the Seer, “ and tying up your horse to the third oak tree on the left of the forest gate.”

The Earl changed color, yet proceeded: “ Where is that horse then now, may 1 ask ? for, truth to say, I had forgotten him, and left him there.”

“ Then you did so tie him up, my Lord, and at that hour,” interrupted one of the keenest jurors.

Lord Ravensworth’s counsel started, whilst the Earl (though conscious of the mistake he had made) coolly added, “ What of that? Does it require an angel from heaven to reveal a fact which any passing boor might have Eeen and reported ?”

“ We have the fact,” replied the juror. “ Let your lordship produce the passing boor ; if not, the witness at leaBt speaks truth.”

“ Granted,” replied his lordship. “ What next, most won­drous Seer ?” •

“ Your Lordship has forgotten to change your dress since yesterday at twilight, when in tearing through a thicket, so rough, that never human foot except in wild unrest like yours would seek its shelter, you tore the wristband of your sleeve, and left the fragment hanging on a bush just where the sodden ground bears three distinct imprints o f your advancing footsteps.”

“ This is too absurd !” cried Lord Ravensworth, starting upw i t h n s lv u n a l l o r J i n —.— J i : «— » “ *■» 1 t o b e t h u s i n ­s u l t e d !”

“ My L ord! who injures you 7” quietly demanded the Coroner. •

“ Officer; examine his lordship’s dress. Nay, you yourself demanded the test of this man’s power ; and justice requires the test of his truth.”

Ashamed to struggle, yet with sullen anger on his brow, Lord Ravensworth had the mortification of disclosing the torn wrist­band of his shirt, hitherto concealed by his coat-sleeve in such a manner that it was impossible the keenest eyes could have detected it. From mere respect to his rank, no remark was made at this seemingly superhuman evidence, slight as it was, of a spirit-police in the midst of the human justice-room ; but when by order of the Cororner, servants were dispatched to

s earch the thicket; and under the guidance of a map of the way hastily traced out by the Improvisatore, the Earl’s footprints were found, and measured, and the scrap of torn linen actually discovered hanging as the Seer had described it, in an almost impenetrable part of the thicket—when this, compared with the Earl’s dress and found to match, was considered, in addition to conclusive testimony that the witness was at the very time of tbe occurrence two'hundred miles away, and never could have had an opportunity of visting the spot in question, and no other footprints than the Earl’s were found, clearly demonstrating that no human watcher could have passed that spot— the in­vestigation, complex as it appeared to grow from the admixture of the supernatural in its details, gained in interest, what it lost in comprehensibility.

“ Would that the dead could speak !” exclaimed one of the harassed jurors. “ Lieutenant Rossi, oould you not tell us something of the Lady ? some surer token by which we might connect this most mysterious and unhappy death with him whom you accuse 7”

“ The dead! There are no dead. She lives and stands amongst us.” Such was the startling response which fell from the lips of the Seer, as with fixed eyes and rapt unnatural glare, he seemed to gaze on vacancy.

The twilight was now fast thickening round the court; the waves of gloom seemed pouring over the high carved ceiling of the vast dim h a ll; stags heads, and branching antlers, loomed from the walls like fabled goblins; the flickering light came fitfully from huge high gothic windows, falling on the suits of armor ranged against the panels until they looked like frown­ing phantoms of the knights of old, ready to step from their dark recesses, and do battle for the murdered lady. Around the long hall table which had so often groaned with the weight of jovial hospitality, sat the twelve grave men, booted and spurred like country Squires; and far in the back ground, the crowd of anxious, terrified domestics, peasants and retainers of the castle. The folds of a heavy crimson curtain on the right, fell round the tall and rigid form of Ravensworth, as with folded arms and lips compressed he stood like a picture, grim and yet defiant, shrouded in its masses. Opposite to him, a fine, arched, painted window reflected the last gleams of the sinking orb of day. A ll else was gloom but this one sp ot; and there in its golden glory stood tho noble Improvisa- atore. A halo of yellow and purple light fell on his form ; his marble features caught the ruddy glow, and round his lofty brow the refracted rays lingered as in some picture of a saint traced by a Raffaelle’s genius. The eager listeners gazing spell­bound on him, bent with straining ears to catch the solemn tones of his sweet but plaintive voice as once more he murmur­

ed, “ She lives and stands amongst us. Poor broken flower ! Unhappy Gabrielle! See, now, she raises her small, pale hand. Alas !. one slender finger’s broken—bent and disjointed like a bruised reed. He did i t— Ravensworth— when with rude and cruel grasp, he tore the plain gold sign of her betrothal from her finger. I 6ee him now, and her, poor, writhing lamb ! Her tender hand is disjointed, yet no cry escapes her. My first gift, and my last; what has he done with it? Tell me, fleet­ing shadow, Gabrielle; oh show m e! Where is my ring!— The swamp;— go seek it there. Beneath the third soft foot­print, her cruel murderer hid it. My spirit-Love, I thank thee! Fare thee well— farewell !”

The spell was over; the Seer was silent; and the deeply moved jurors resumed their" painful task. On farther inqui­ry it was remembered that Lady Ravensworth had worn anoth­er plain gold ring, besides her wedding one. This on the corpse was missing ; yet although her attendants, Mrs. Mar­tin, and all who had approached her since the night of the al­leged tragedy, had failed to remark anything particular in her right hand— though she had never complained or mentioned the injury to a single creature—upon the suggestion of the above recorded broken sentences, the right hand of the unfor­tunate Lady was examined, when it was found that the third finger had been recently dislocated, while the skin, was torn and scathed as i f by violence. The discovery of the missing

-ring too, just where “ the third soft footprint” revealed the presence of the Earl in the deep and swampy thicket, complet­ed the chain of this -most marvellous evidence. And yet, what did it all amount to ?

Lady Ravensworth was dead, poisoned; that was clear.— But the old adage that “ the dead tell no tales,’’ was not to bes u v a a i u c l u r l u c x a Y i u g a u i vt, ■ ' u r a c B . - u r a i n c u v i s i u u a r y — - e s p e O

ially when the honor of a rich and noble Lord, a statesman, landlord, and a powerful Peer, were all to be called in ques­tion. What if bis Lordship did spend the day from noon to eve in wandering in deep thickets— hiding his lady’s former lover’s ring— and late at night returning so abstracted that he left behind him his favorite, fleetest horse, tied to a tree at least some tea miles from the place where he must have wan­dered on foot 7 What if ambitious maids of low degree wed haughty lords and die like blighted flowers— crushed out of life when their purchasers are weary of them? The broken finger, like the poisoned cup, were secrets belonging to eterni­ty. Dreadful only and most presumptuous was that mysterious power by which the privacy of souls could be unveiled, and the voiceless air reveal the mystery which should slumber with the silent dead.

And thus did justice reason, till at last the populace, at­tracted by the strange reports which everywhere like wild-fire spread from the inquest room, began to take a fierce and threat­ening tone against the unfortunate Improvisatore.

His Lordship’s lawyers were shrewd and active men.— O f course they knew, as all the world must know, that the Earl of Ravensworth was innocent. They were fully confident no blame, not even the lightest shadow, could attach to a nobleman “ so good and so distinguished.” But the fact that any for- foreign vagrants should dare to pry on English Noble’s privacy — and worse than all that they should dare to tell such start­ling facts that clumsy juries and the common people were forced to believe their truth—this was the most atrocious part of all. At first the villagers, who loved the generous lady and were deeply struck by the noble bearing of the strange but truthful witness, were sullen and discontented, and instead of rejoicing when they heard that their landlord and patron was fully and “ honorably" discharged of all blame, by the verdict of the jury— namely, of “ felo de se,”— were disposed to vent their indignation in muttered curses and half uttered threats. Before the day succeeding the close of the inquest was fully ended, however, the tone of the whole community was changed. The taverns wero fu ll; every ale house for miles around was thronged with drunken revellers; while his Lordship’s friends, lawyers, men of business, and retainers, were every where re­markably busy, haranguing half intoxicated and highly excit­ed listeners, his lordship’s gold flowed through the streets like water, and his lordship’s name was cheered and shouted, with golden and drunken zeal.

’Twas in the midst of such a scene as this, that late at night the announcement rang like a thunder peal that the strange witness and his companion had been arrested on the charge of “ conspiracy.” From ten o’clock till nearly twelve, knots of men might be seen standing at the corners of the va­rious streets and lanes that led from the Castle (where ’twas said the Court was sitting, before which the new criminals were being examined) to the village gaol, where they might be expected to be detained. ’Twas remembered afterwards, how many strangers were abroad that night— how many, too, that passed from group to group, seeming to whisper something then pass on. And still the gold, the castle gold, flew through these groups like trash. Why was it that without any apparent concert or given signal, without a leader or the least attempt, that any cou de'ect, at order or design, the scattered groups, just as the bell chimed midnight, seemed as by some universal impulse to draw towards a common centre— that cen-

- a .

tre— that castle road 7 On they went, larger and strong­er masses, until they lined the path; and though none * manifested any special purpose, or spoke o f why they gathered in that spot, their silent concentrated purpose told some under­stood but hidden meaning more certainly than speech. A n i there they stood, or seemed to linger rather, in stern but sullen silence, like a brooding thunder storm. On they come; man . and yet more they come; and these, too, pause; no questions asked ; no other object gained than there to congregate in mas­sive lines ahd wait. What are they waiting for?

In one of the foremost groups a low whisper might be heard, from one who seemed almost afraid to trust his voice with ths the question, “ Where is my lady buried, can yon tell ?"

“ H ush! Be still. They com e!” was the sharp reply.A moment’s pause, and then the tramp o f horsemen and tiie

roll of carriage wheels. The night was very dark, bat the foremost horsemen carried pine torches, which for a short space lit up the scene with a dull, red, fiery glare. First rode half a dozen mounted constables; and then a troupe of the cas­tle domestics, surrounding two carriages, the first of which con­tained the magistrates who had been assisting at the late ex­amination, and the second the two Hungarian offioers—the presence of a fresh troupe of mounted constables surrounding this vehicle, clearly intimating that its inmates were priaonen under a judicial escort.

No sooner did this part of the procession come into view by the light of the torches, than the main object of the gathering appeared to be gained. With a yell like that of the wildest savageism, the lingering masses rushed upon the carriage, dash­ing the horsemen aside; and either through their feeble re-

“ Tear the magician into pieces!” strove to obtain forcible possession of the person of the prisoners.

How far this movement was the result of preconcerted or­der— whether such order was the arrangement of the desperate Earl, bent on the destruction of his dreaded enemy, fearing to let him go free, yet fearing still more to trust him again before a judicial court— or treachery amongst the trained rioten,— the spirit power that reads the human heart, alone can tell. ’Twas evident that most o f the villagers, although exrated bj partial intoxication, were equally unprepared for this savage movement, and indisposed to further it. Most of these drew back in terror; whilst the magistrates, and some of the con­stables—not all— proceeded to render prompt assistance to the helpless prisoners. It was amongst the strangers chiefly (some of whom, with slouched hats and besmeared visages, wore the evi­dent appearance of disguise) that the cries and nproarcame. It seemed, too, as if they hoped, by shouts, frantic gestures, and an appeal to the superstitious feelings of the people, to goad them to attack the prisoners: the whisperers were nowhere to beseen; but now the effect of their words was clearly to be tested; for while the chiefs of the ruffian mob began to drag the captives from the carriage, and even to attack their defenders with sticks and stones, the villagers (especially those who had been present at tiie trial) repeatedly exclaimed, “I don’t believe one word of it.” That fine young fellow only told the truth; and if there’s magic in it, ’tis nearer home than with that noble foreigner.”

The crowd was divided then ; and perhaps a reaction among the better thinking of the mass might not only have protected the prisoners, but even have set them free,—when, a sadden flash from a distant clamp of trees lighted ap the scene with a momentary glare;— then a lond report, and Ernest Rossi springing from the ground,- fell back on his friend Augustine’s arm—his last earth battle fought. .

The strife was hushed; a deathly stillness reigned; when in the midst of the affrighted group, Lord Ravensworth, white a s his dying foe, appeared upon the scene.

“ In the name of the king and justice,” he cried, without a falter in his loud, harsh tone,— “I command yon, one and all, to point out to me the man who fired that shot— Ralph, Hor­ton, Leonard!'’ he added taming from one to the other in stern appeal, “ Who was it? Speak! In the name of onr liege lord and justice, I require you to yield up the rash, bad man.”

Who was to speak 7 No one had seen the murderer, hidden by the woods; and until the Earl appeared upon the scene, al­though it was natural enough to infer that an aproar so near his castle might have drawn him forth to enquire the cause, still no one had till then remarked him, much less any one amongst the groups was there who carried arms at alL A ll were Bilent then— but one. Raised npon his faithful friend’s strong arm, the dying eyes of Ernest fell fall apon the cower* ing, shuddering Earl.

“ She forgave you, Ravensworth,” he murmured, “ and*so do L Can you forgive yourself 7 Augastine, dear companion, faithful friend— farewell! I ’m going home.” . . . .

They laid the Countess in her stately vault. The deep bell tolled; the midnight torches flashed; the solemn requiem rolled its echoing tones in many a proad cathedral aisle and chapel, m many a solemn priory and convent, in grand high masses fiw the sainted soul of Countess Gabrielle. The long array of dark funereal pomp consigned her to the splendid mausoleum, where Ravensworth’s proud ancestry were laid.

Page 2: DEVOTED TO RATIONAL SPIRITUALISM ATSTD PEA OTTO A T i …€¦ · wealthy lady of one of the fairest Earldoms in Eugland, had oome by her death. True there was little or no cause

T H E S P I R I T U A L

They reared a fair white marble tomb above her, with sculp­tured Angela and fine chiselled arms. They said “ she Blept beneath/’ Alaa for mortal truth! Her soul wm waking in the air o f paradise and floating through Elysiau fields of light with Eulalie and Ernest. Never she in that cold, marble tomb, a risen penitent and humble spirit, lay one hour impri­soned ; but like a little child, her spirit life began from where that cold white marble closed above her clay.

On the lone hillside where high above the ocean wave the wild, free sea winds swept, one wretched heart-wrung mourner, followed the humble shell that held the broken casket o f the good, the brave, and loving Ernest Rossi. No priest was there to mutter formal prayers. “ He needs them not,” his lonely comrade thought. “ For such as he the heaven of rest was made. His loving lips are pouring forth the waves of song in happier, brighter clim es; or immortality is all a fiction.”

The mariners who brought him to that shore, dug his quiet grave and laid him in it. The wild winds sang his funeral re­quiem. The lone stars kept their silent watch by night, and fluttering sea-birds hovered near by day. The very daisies loved to cling around the pure and peaceful ashes of the good.

The fishermen and timid village maids, who B h r a n k from mournful churchyards in affright, when evening hours stole on, and moonbeams slept upon the gentle minstrel’s parting dust, came lovingly and sat upon the stone, and listened through the livelong night to hear the angel musio which full often stole in thrilling cadence far across the sea. None thought o f him with fear or heard the air vibrate to viewless minstrel’s melting tones when near that grave, with terror. Sometimes they said they saw, when moon and stars made glorious pageantry of summer night—when all things lovely smiled, and happy thoughts came in the hallowed radiance of such eights— two glancing forms more splendid than the dreams of poets’ wildest visions, float on the waves o f balmy summer air, or gleam like flashing meteors through the night. A third was there, more shadowy pale and sad, like the last gleam o f fading morning stars, at­tendant on the lustrous queen of night. They said ’twas Er­nest and his spirit bride, leading the soul o f Gabrielle the err­ing, up to her home in heaven.

N o te t o t h e I m fh o v is a to k e — Since sending the concluding pages of the above sketch to the publishers, I have been equally perplexed and amused by the receipt of numerous letters, commenting in the B p ir it of exceed ing discontent npon the deaths of my hero and heroine; ■while two of my correspondents express a hope almost amounting to a command that they should see Lord Ravensworth duly consigned to the world’s shame, or nn equivalent amount of retribution in the in­evitable hereafter. To the firat class of murmurers, whilst I express my gratification a t the interest with which they have followed the story I beg to remind them of one of its titles, namely, “ Tom leaves from life histories.” These leaves, though not all extracted from the same volume, are a t least rent from the immutable pages of life, where, except in the fictions of novelists or the merely temporal rewards and punishments promised by the Mosaic dipsensa'tion, we seldom see real instances of that poctical justice which assigns long life, honor, fame and wealth as tho inevitable results of good action, and fable-like, con­demns the ty ran t to dio, and the bad man to the temporal sufferings of a human tribunal.

Let those who have kindly and lo v iD g ly followed my poor Gabrielle and the Improvisatore to the abrupt termination of their earthly career, study the facts of Spiritualism, and while they simply discover the soene changed, the first rudimental act of the Drama alone played out on the stage of mortality—they will have no occasion to mourn for the suffering lady battling unsuccessfully with human passion, being re­moved even through the gates of suoh stormy lessons as she drew on

■ herself, to a more congenial though of necessity retributive sphere of a o tio n . Let them remember this life i t not a ll. "Here we sow the

- «___ w . . • _ - _ . . .pen , ana we Ibe sowers gather it in ,’ here or Lereaiter— wLa't matters i t which? W hat though the curtain may be dropped between the vis­ion of the mortal and the immortal? The true Spiritualist need not be told there is no death. And when earth-life’s fiftful fever is bu rn t

•out ice know what we are, by the exact measurement of what we have done. When We can guage the depths, heights and breadths of eter­nity , find out the floodgates which hedge in the onward waves of pro­gress, and halt before the crystal wall of perfection, we may un­dertake to say what we shall be, and no more. Until then, conceive of the sad grey shadowy form of the erring Gabrielle growing brighter and yet more bright until the glorious vision fades in the rosy sunlight of God’s eternal love, in which the spirits chastened by human suffer­ing, and striving by pertitlent effort to attain the good, are bathed in a flood of growing sunbeams.

One such as Ernest Rossi lived on earth. He walked amongst men ever like a spirit. And though we missed his kindly tone, his ever ready smile and loving ways, none grudged his soul its early flight to heaven. Kindred with the skies he ever was. Would we had many suoh! E arth would be a heaven; and such as he would not be called away as if they found no place in this gross, sensuous life; bu t in the earth their kindly natures love, they’d walk as ministering spirits, instead of whispering through the spirit veil a t he does now to ut. r Lord Bavensworth—why who can question what his future was? or

doubt tha t Senatorial honor, place and rank, attached like needles to the loadstone, wealth ? Lord Ravensworth has so many types in life’* o’er tru e page, th a t it may seem doubtful whether I selected one of the spe­cies to individualize or not—yet I did so, and my peer is a reality; and the leaves of his life history hang fluttering hanners of pomp and cir­cumstance upon the honored walls of England’s great, even to this very day. Lord Ravensworth held rank as one of England’s legisla­tors. He was rich. Who so well qualified to make laws whereby he oould grind that wealth from the poor? He was high in station— Who knew so well how many humble rocks he must tread on to constitute the footstool of his greatness? He knew what crime was; and so, better than most men, was fitted to legislate for criminals. The w orld said he had killed his fair and hapless wife; and yet hundreds o f fathers, mothers and guardians sought his alliance for their'young and tender daughters. He never married again, howev­er.^ Thousands there were who would have offered themselves or their children victims upon the shrine of this priest of Mammon, but the high, honorable wealthy and influential peer, had such a thing as an individuality , and into its secret depths mortal eyes never looked again. Some might have guessed a t its nature, from the cold chill which his stem presence ever brought, and the loveless life of u t­te r isolation in which the envied child of fortune passed through the busy world. Some wondered why the stately castle always remained nn tenanted—why its very neighborhood was so studiously avoided by its noble owner—why the sweet voice of music would send the Earl to the solitude of distant places, from which he would issue forth with swollen red eyes that made the beholder’s soul run cold to look into their agonizing depths.

Psychometry I i t is a favorite theme with me ! I t brings such hidden wonders to the light, and unveils such a vast scheme of compensation .and retribution carried about in the very deepest recesses of the human souL I f loTe be the kingdom of heaven, how muoh did Lord Ravens­worth carry about with him, when even his very dogs feared , bu t never loved him ? Psychometry! what lake of fire couldst thou not have revealed within the bosom of the cold, stem Earl, so marble-like in sur- ftoe, bu t oh, within !—Why wilt thou never die, thou worm of memory? .Tradition gays he offered castle, houses, lands, all his vast wealth, to the physioians who stood around his bed, if they could find the means wher|by the long, long life he clung to could be prolonged one single

ay beyond the waning hour of death which closed a t last around him. Not th a t he loved tha t l i f e h e never B m iled ; and dogs and little child­ren, yUU»p fnaids and pious men shrank from his path , in th a t whioh marked his life—the rule of v ea r. And yet, when earth’s thick cur­tains fell in folds atound him, he shrieked, and screamed for life, and eorsed his God, and swore he would not die ; then slept, and with a ■tart awoke in spirit-land. W hat was he then?—Life and deathlike Old Testament teachings, are the novelist’s and novel-read er’s concep­tions of happiness o r misery. We know of no end to the one, no mean­ing for the other. O nr world’s issues lead ns into spirit-land; and there, my guides tell me, Lord Ravensworth w as nothing more nor less

than a very little child, with life to begin again, and no stock to trade on but memory. His wealth and castles, rank and name, were gone,— all these, misused, he had invested in the bank of earth, not heaven.— W ith earth the account was closed. He had no funds in heaven, and so he had no interest to receive. .

Love !—his passion for Gabrielle, was a sensuous fire, bora of the earth , consuming, like the dust on which it fed. Hate !—what could his hate do to his happy rival ? F ar, for away, amongst the choiring stars, singing to the listening worlds of light, where never sunset comes to dim the eternal day, the bright Improvisatore sped bird-like through a ll space, linked hand in hand with those he dearestloved—his heaven, to shed the dews of happiness and comfort on those who, like himself, were toiling np to his bright happy home.

Nothing bu t memory, then, for Ravensworth. The bitter past with all its dreadful failures,—rank, wealth, and talent,—all dead, barren trees,—possessions, home or place, love, friends or kindred, he’d none in sp irit land. He had not sent his treasures on before, bu t left them all behind; and so he stood once more a little child, the mem­ory of the past his sole possession—the fatherhood of God his only hope. O nly hope ! The wisdom that can make a thousand worlds—the love tha t destines them for happiness, and power that can sustain them —is it not sufficient for a single soul’s salvation ? The new-born spir­i t o f the hapless child of-earth came wailing back into his Father’s bosom, and forth was sent again to practise life anew—the lessons of the past a constant teaching; the loving angels growing good them­selves by helping on the wanderer to his home; and one strong arm around his feeble frame, one bold, unerring footstep guiding his, one tender voice in soothing accents saying, “ Brother, fear not, one God and Father made us, one common tie unites us all, ’tis love. You’ve died to sin, now live again to God.” The voice tha t spoke was Ernest’s, the Improvisatore. Perfection was not his, nor any finite being’s; and when the angels bend in solemn worship, and ask the Father of all Spirits to teach them to be good, a voice from out the heaps of buried Zion, quivers on Calvary 's Mount, and sighs through Palestine, mounts on the winds, and breathes a t heaven’s gate; sings through each star and glitters in each sun, writes on the walls of a ll created worlds and echoes through all space—“ Forgive each other’s trespasses as ye would be forgiven.”

^Irogfcs? i? ffoe 6oh)lr)ori JLqto of ibe

A . E. NEW TON, S. B . BRITTAN, L. B. MONROE,E D I T O R S .

P r in c ip a l Office,—No. 14 B rom field S tree t, Cup s ta irs ,) B oston , H a ss .LE W IS B. MONROE B c s is k s s A q b st.

H ew T o rk Office. — A t H u n s o n ’s B ookstore , 5 G re a t Jo n es S tree t.B. B . B R IT T A N . A o m t

C h icag o Office.—No. 81 D earb o rn S t., opposite th e P o st Office.M cN A L L Y & C o ., A g e x t s.

B uffa lo A g en t, - - . . - . - 8 . a l b r o .

SATURDAY, MAY 2 8 , 1 8 5 9 .

“ DANGERS OF SPIRITISM.”Under the head o f “ The Acknowledged Dangers o f Spirit­

ism,” our cotemporary, The New Jerusalem Messenger, has an article against sensible communication with the epirit- world, which seems to us singularly lacking in logical consis­tency and practical good sense. It opeos with this broad ad­mission : .

That sincere and well-disposed persons* may be led to investigate the phenomena of Spiritism, and thus bccome interested in them, without sensible in jury, and even perhaps with benefit, where there is great previous ignorance of the life after death and the laws of the spir-

Yery good; and surely the Messenger will not deny that the -religious world in general, (a very small body of the dis­ciples of Swedenborg only excepted) and the community at largo, at least up to the commencement of tho modern manifes­tations, were in an almost profound “ ignorance of the life af­ter death and the laws of the spiritual world”— the general tendency being to an utter skepticism on the whole subject. And as to being “ sincere and well-disposed”— we never advise anybody to investigate any subject, except in such dispositions. The iw-sincere and ectf-disposed are always and everywhere li­able to error and injury, whatever they may be interested in or inquire into— and that in proportion to the importance of the subject. Our first counsel to such always is to become honest, truth-loving, reverent and pure-minded.— The’ article proceeds:

“ B ut the writings of the New Church make it clear to any one who will read, tha t every attempt to come into open or sensible communica­tion with the spiritual world must be attended V ith great danger. This, we are pleased to see, is now virtually conceded by B o m e of the most experienced and intelligent advocates "of^pLritism. ’ ’

But it needs not the writings of any Church, New or Old, to make it clear that open communication with this world, in which we all live, is also “ attended with great danger.” There are ignorant and deluded people, liars and deceivers, errorists and sensualists, on every hand; and the vast majority of all who are bom fall under the influence of such. Would it be better, therefore, in view of such “ dangers,” that we should never be born into conscious existence in such a world 7— or that we should be born deaf, dumb, and blind ?— or be care­fully shut out through the earth-life from all open intercourse with men as they are ? Either conclusion, to say the least, would seem to impugn the Wisdom and Goodness which have placed us in such surroundings.

A s a “ virtual concession ” o f th is great danger o f spirit- intercourse, the Messenger cites from the S p ir i tu a l A g e the follow ing remark which w e had occasion recently to make :

“ That there is a k ind of spirit influence tending in this direction, [i. e., to corrupt the moral sensibilities, and prove disastrous to its vic­tims] and operating upon such minds as are willingly open to i t f most intelligent Spiritualists have been aware from the first.”

From this the Messenger deduces the following extraordina­ry conclusion:

“ This, it appears to us, ought to be sufficient to deter all who ac­knowledge its tru th from further advocacy of Spiritism .”

With as good reason should we be deterred from advocating acquaintance and intercourse with men in this world, because there are persons whose influence, on such minds as are will­ingly open to it, tends to evil and error; or we should refrain from eating and drinking at all, because there are kinds of food and drink that are poisonous and disastrous to the health o f those who indulge in them !— But the question is argued at length, and set home to the conscience, in the following strain :

“ By the laws of the system, ‘ mediums,’ or those who communicate with spirits, a ttract to themselves spirits of their own quality. Thus an intelligent and virtuous medium will a ttract intelligent and well-disposed spirits, while an ignorant and vicious ‘medium’ will a ttract those of his own character and quality. As a reforming influence, therefore,— as a means of making men better,—and, if we understand the ablest advo­cates of Spiritism, it is on this ground mainly, if not wholly, that they defend it, and commend it to the attention of their fellow-men—it con­fessedly fails where its beneficent and reformatory influence is most needed. For those whose moral and spiritual status is so high as to make intercourse safe to them, could hardly be benefitted by it; while those who are most in need of elevation would be far more likely to be made

worse than better by such association with spirits quite as ignorant and depraved as themselves. How can those who profess to desire the ele­vation and moral advancement of others,—and we do not question their' sincerity,— conscientiously commend to their fellow-men practices which, by their own admissions, are so fraught with danger, and so little to be relied on for anything good?”

To our “ New Church” brother, this seems conclusive and overwhelming, no doubt; but we regard it as only a sample of that special pleading which fossilized religionists are wont to apply to this subject. The same argument is equally good against church-going and sermon-hearing, “ as a reforming in­fluence.” People are attracted to hear preachers of their own opinions and quality, and preachers are attracted to and often gain a powerful influence over those who accord with them. Thus they mutually confirm each other in whatever errors, or immoralities they may adopt, and hence the practice is “ fraught with danger.” Besides, if there is really any salutary influence in any of our churches, the most vicious and de­praved are not attracted to them, and hence they “ confessed­ly fail where their beneficent and reformatory influence is most needed.” Shall then all preaching and hearing be aban­doned, all churches be closed up, and all intercourse between mankind cease ?

W e never commended indiscriminate intercourse with spirits, nor regarded it as necessarily beneficial, irrespective of the motives and aspirations of the participants; nor would we commend promiscuous and familiar association, regardless of an elevated purpose, with such people as are to be found in this world. We never encouraged the “ ignorant and vicious” to become mediums without first abandoning their v ices; nor have we knowingly sought spirit-communications through the agency of such. W e never advised our fellow-men to have anything to do with Spiritualism, either as mediums or in­quirers, except as honest, sincere and devout seekers of Divine truth and good, earnestly desirous of being purged from all their own errors and evils. This latter is plainly the first duty of every man and woman ; and none are safe anywhere, unless they cherish such aspirations. The Messenger itself readily admits that such persons may investigate “ without sensible in­jury, and even perhaps with benefit.” And will it deny that such, when they become convinced of the reality of a spiritual world, and understand its relations to this, and the laws of spiritual influx, may become receptive of influxes which shall give them clearer views of God’s truth, quicken all the germs of good, and raise them to higher states ?

Spirit-communion, like all other intercourse of mind with mind, may be a powerful aid to growth in wisdom, goodness and purity ; or a prolific source of error, folly, superstition, fa­naticism, pollution and crime—ju s t as people are disposed to employ it. Thia accords with common sense, and is coming to be common experience. Ignorance of this important fact has been the chief source of danger. Numbers have denied that influences of any kind can come from the spirit-world, though themselves all the while more or less subject to them. Numbers more have imagined that none but good in­fluences could come from thence ; and hence have been dis­posed to “ believe every spirit,” and regard to all “ inspired teachings” as authoritative. I f that world is of such a nature, and has such relations to this as Swedenborgians hold, and if its influence upon us depends upon our states, it is important that these facts be known, even at the cost of some severe ex­periences. Safety lies not in ignorance.

It is furthermore obviously true, as a general principle, an d from the nature of our mental constitutions, that a firm eon-j^otipn of Rnirjtcresence and cognizance at all times, such as Spiritualism gives, has a powerful restraining and strengthen­ing tendency over most minds, in hours of temptation and weakness. When they have conclusive proof that they are en­compassed about by a “ great cloud of witnesses,” and espec­ially that the eyes of their loved and sainted ones are bent on their every step, most people receive a new impetus to lives of purity and nobleness, if anything will give it. I f here is not a practical “ beneficent and reformatory influence,” we know not where to look for one—though possibly some may be too gross to feel its power, and others too firm in the right to need it.

Much more might be added on this point, but enough has been said to show the absurdity of rejecting all spirit-comun- ion, because, like every other instrumentality of good, it is li­able to perversion by the ignorant and vicious, to their own in­jury.

T h e A t la n t ic M o n th ly for June is on the counters. The time has gone by for any expression of opinion on the general merits of the magazine. It is now conceded to be the autocrat among periodicals—the elephant in the great menagerie— al­ways sure of its share 'of attention, whatever rival attractions there may be. The number before us has been excelled by some of its predecessors, in vivacity and interest for the mul­titude, but is nevertheless full of instruction and solid enter­tainment. Spiritualism gets two or three rough hits from some writers who have evidently seen but one side of the matter, and that the wrong one. But wc can afford to remain good- natured about it, and not “ flare up” as have several o f the sectarian journals at the good-natured criticisms o f the “Au­tocrat.” Truth is . no “ invalid,” and can bear a little rough usage.

T h e A n n iv e r sa r ie s .— The present is anniversary week in Boston, when the various societies which have taken in hand the work of redeeming this world are to report progress, and lay out their future campaigns. We shall be on the look-out for indications of advancement; and i f we find any evidences that “ the kingdom of God is about to appear,” shall apprise our readers in due time.

The meetings o f Spiritualists at Harmony Hall, 419 Wash­ington St., will be a new feature of the occasion, and we trust they will be creditably sustained. Mr. B r it t a n speaks on Monday evening, Mr. P e a se on Tuesday evening, Mrs. B ro w n of Cleveland, on Wednesday evening, and Miss A m edey on Thursday evening; besides which, meetings will be held forenoon and afternoon, in which various speakers will take a part.

The following item, which has been going the rounds, is about as near the truth as the anti-spiritual press usually gets in any­thing relating to Spiritualism :

“ Mrs. Ada L. Coan, a ‘ detective medium,’ charges Mrs. Andrew Jackson Davis with procuring sundry old books, committing her lec­tures to memory from them, and then delivering them in a * trance state.’ ” ,

Mrs. Davis is not a trance speaker, and, we venture to say, never was nor professed to be “ in a trance state” in her life.

S. B . B r it t a n will receive calls, for two or three weeks, to lecture in the vicinity o f Boston on week evenings. Address at this office.

S p ir itu a lism in E urope.— The letter from Dr. G ard n er, now in London, which will be found in another column, will be read with interest. ;

A G E .SW EDENBORG’S W RITINGS.

m g t h e y 8U F F C I E N T T O R T H E W O R L D ?

Perhaps the most remarkable portion of the article from the N . -J. Messenger, commented on elsewhere, ia the follow­in g ;

“ I t is ju s t and proper tha t men should desire to baotin some knowl­edge of the life after death, and of the laws and conditions of the sp ir- •tual world. B ut far more accurate and reliable information on these great subjects than spirits can now communicate is already in the world, and may be obtained without danger from writings which aro calculated to encourage all th a t is good, and to p u t to shame all th a t is vicious and degrading in man. In fact, one of the most diffioult prob­lems to be reconciled is, how men who profess to be so deeply interested in the life after death, and so desirous of living an angelio life upon earth , should feel so deep an interest in the crude and incoherent mes­sages concerning tha t life obtained from ‘ mediums,’ while they can hardly, be induced to read a page in those writings of Swedenborg which so dearly , so fully and so vividly describe and demonstrate not only the life after death, and the life of angels, bu t all "the laws and phenomena of thc spiritual world, as well as the manifold Btates and conditions of its inhabitants. Some few of the Spiritists, it is true, .have obtained a partial knowledge of Swedenborg’s writings, and thus have greatly improved the quality and consistency of their own. B ut even of this few we know of no one who does not virtually place the poor, flimsy or inflated communications made to himself or to Bome other 1 medium’ by B p irits , far above anything th a t Swedenborg has made known.”

This is the old story of sectarian exclusiveness : “ Come into our enclosure; learn of our prophet; we alone have all the truth, and all the good ; what isn’t in our sacred books isn t worth knowing; God has exhausted himself and cannot, or will not, reveal anything that isn’t written there; nor will he speak through another ,* follow with us, or we forbid and anathema­tize you.” We should suppose that receivers of Sweden­borg’s revelations had had the same assumptions, in substance, thrown in their own faces by the Old Church, long enough to have learned better than to throw them at others.

It ie, indeed, “ a difficult problem,” why some people prefer to use their own eyes and ears, and their own truth-determin­ing powers in general, rather than rely altogether upon those of others;— also, why most men are more deeply interested in visiting a country for themselves, or in conversing directly with a friend who has been there, than in merely reading the descriptions of an unknown traveler, however truthful, who claims to have journeyed that way two hundred or two thous­and years ago;— and again, why many persons have a keener relish for provisions fresh plucked from the ever-teeming earth, than for those which were gathered and preserved by former generations ; and why anybody should prefer to drink from an ever-gushing fountain on the hill-side, rather than from the turbid streams and muddy pools of the plain. It is also very perplexiug that people Bhould place more value upon what is a d a p t e d to their present mental states and comprehensions, than on what is quite beyond their understanding. These are puzzling questions, truly,— growing out of perversities (?) in human nature, which backward-looking churches in all ages have tried hard to root out, but with poor success! W e rec­ommend that the effort be abandoned,— that this appetite for fresh food, for personal knowledge, and for living inspiration, be recognized as legitimate, and be properly cultivated and di­rected.

We would by no means undervalue the writings of Sweden­borg, nor, indeed, of any other illumined teacher of spiritual things in the past. For our own part, there are few works on spiritual and theological questions that we study with more interest and profit than those of the Swedish Seer. But, iudging from our own experience, the meaning and value of those works can be' understood aiid appreciated b y the w orld at large, only as the world becomes somewhat familiar, from personal observation, with the facts of spirit-manifestation and of spiritual experience. Though Swedenborg wrote upwards of a century ago, yet his details of his own experiences, and his accounts of the spirit-world, etc., have been generally re­garded as the dreams and vagaries of a monomaniac. His readers have been few, and his •• receivers” a mere handful. Now the case is changing. Only recently The Messenger was jubilant over the fact that “ New Church” writings were be­ginning to receive greatly increased attention from religious minds. What has caused the change? Unquestionably, the modern demonstrations from the spirit-life, which show that life to be substantially as Swedenborg described— and modem examples of spiritual or psychical experiences similar to his— which together are producing a wide-spread impression upon candid minds that the dreaming Swede may have been no lu­natic after all. Our own conviction is, that this illuminated seer went more profoundly into the great problems of life, spir- it-existence, Deity, etc., than most modern seers and communi­cating spirits are yet capable of going; and for that very rea­son he has been misappreciated and undervalued by the mass­es. He is quite beyond their comprehension, and hence they require proofs and teachers more nearly adapted to their pres­ent mental states. W e have no doubt the modern demonstra­tions and the current communications, as a whole, are provi­dentially designed to meet this want.

As people become satisfied with “ crude and incoherent messages,” “ poor, flimsy or inflated communications”— (though these terms by no means justly describe the better class o f mod­em inspirational productions)— they will call for more substan­tial food. And they will be supplied according to their aspira­tions, both in fresh gushes of inspiration from the higher spir­itual realms, and through the newly illumined pages of the seers, apostles, and evangelists o f past times.

But supposing the extravagant claims here set up, to be true,— that Swedenborg has given us “ far more accurate and reliable information than spirits can now communicate,”— sup­pose that he bas correctly described “ all the laws and phe­nomena of the spiritual world, as well as the manifold states and conditions of its inhabitants,”— how are we, how is the world, to know these facts ? Shall we all take them for granted, because our “ New Church” friends say so ? Shall we believe them even on the claim of Swedenborg himself?— though we are not aware that he made any such claim.

It seems to us that this is asking a little too much of ration­al men in the nineteenth century. Such dogmatism is no bet­ter than that of Rome. W e can have no rational, well-founded faith in the truthfulness of Swedenborg, or any other revela- tor, without at least some personal knowledge and experience in the Bame direction. And the receivers of his doctrines have greatly damaged his credibility by the extraordinary and ex­clusive claims they have set up for him as the sole revealcr of God in these latter days. Would they but allow that his ex ­periences and perceptions were only such as other men may enjoy under similar conditions,— and would they but accept the analogous experiences of others as interpretative of his, and corrective of his possible mistakes,— instead of putting him forth as altogether an anomaly, and infallibly authorita­tive,— they would far more readily command the a tt^ntion and credence o f mankind.

SUBLIM ATION OF MATTER.Some people find it difficult to understand the o f the

progression, spiritualization, or sublimation of matter—it bnrr^ a fact that eludes the analysis o f the chemist, and h u bee* gen­erally overlooked by the science of the past. The fottmri^ condensed statements from a late lecture by Pn>£ J . J . M apes, the scientific agriculturist, o f New Jersey, go to Dlu> trate the dootrine: '

v . . ">“ Every substance in nature, when taken up by argaaio n a te *

goesa change which neither chemical analysis nor ati inations can discover. One grain o f potash obtained finw th* i a double rose has m ore. fertilizing power than a pound of the ashes of wood or one thousand pounds o f pure potash < feldspar rock. Substances taken from a higher "t— o f i of m ore.fertiliiing value to the ffcrmer than those from the lower erdaca -of nature. One grain o f iron taken from the blood o f a a n vQ l aet as a tonic more powerfully than one pound taken from iron oca.

A t Hurdstown, N . J ., there aro large deposits o f pba^ atfeiM k^ tha t are analytically the same as phosphate of lim e, ffrtarnal bu rn t bones. Several years since, Bome gentlemen thought it wiralj make an excellent fertilizer, and so obtained the oertifioataa of De. Jackson and forty other chemists, that it was o f great value, after par- chasing the mine.. Prof. Mapes was solicited to take hold o f it , b a th s declined, telling the owners th a t no quantity from a pound to a tea contained any fertilizing matter. I t was shaped largely to E agbad, endorsed by the first chemists there, and sold at £ 7 per toa. -Nov ft would not sell for seven shillings per ton in any port o f S u v p e , u i a only used a t the Liverpool docks as ballast. No chemist by TinitjM can discover any difference between this pulverized reek aad p a h w w d burnt bones. The one as a fertilizer is worthless, the other Tataable. One comes from the lower orders of n a tu re , the other from higher or­ganisms. No plant feeds on anything in the soil until it is ia solatia* in water. A man who is compelled to feed npon lower organisms, haa not the ability to comprehend a higher course o f thought.

The farmer of Vermont and New Hampshire, whose au l ia the debrw of the granite rock, and contains seventeen per eeat o f m swood ashes as a fertilizer, not because there is no potash ia bu t because the potash of the ashes has progressed, aod been in organ­ic life before. The higher the organism, the better the fertiliser, Ih e iron of an ordinary horse shoe nail has higher functions ♦*»«" «i—t a o t manipulated. Au old casting when broken is beautifully crystaliaed, while a new one in the same condition is only a gray im m Ih e C ut product of a mountain soil is usually the lichen or moes. Theae **— y and higher organisms succeed. Progression is an eternal la v *—1 matter is immortal.” .

W h a t a r e good books?— The literary critic o f TAcAtlaxtic for J une, expresses the opinion that “ good books” are an anti­dote for “ what is called Spiritualism.” Wonder i f he would exclude from the catalogue such books as Bushnell’s Nature and the Supernatural, the writings of Stilling, Fox and Wes­ley, The Scots Worthies, the O ld' and New Testaments, all other books which record superhuman interpositions in the affairs of this world, and teach spiritual truth ? We hope he will give us his Index Expurgatorius.

P e o v . G r im e s i h B u c k s p o e t . — A Bucks port. Me., correspondent in­forms us tha t the distinguished exploder of Spiritualism, P rot Grimea, has recently visited tha t place for the purpose of enlighten ing the peo­ple. His last announcement called out, on a fine evening, a n iim M audience of three persons. The cause is progressing finely in that place, and was never in a better condition than now. '

B a t i i , M e .—A friend w h o has recently left B ath , M e., informs wa th a t Miss Gibson was giving a course of lectures in that plane w ith great success. Crowds of the most intelligent people o f the place flock to hear her nightly.

Mbs. H. F. M. Bbown, the talented editress of the Cleveland jSpga- tor, and an able advocate of the emancipation of Woman, will speak at Harmony Hall, 419 Washington street, Boston, on Sanday t and evening next. ■______________________________

Marions Ittms.----- A w riter in the Examiner states tha t the American

Bible Society last year incurred an expense of tix ttea f^rmnrW da}- iars in collecting and appropriating eighteen thousand dollar* I tr th a benevolent work of the organization.

___ Charles Wilson, a music teacher, a t Rochester, N . T ., droppeddead on Thursday, while purchasing a t the Democrat offioe several copies of the paper containing an obituary of bis mother, who was to be buried the same afternoon. '

___ A missionary paper says, there is a piteous demand for *■ o nmissionaries,” among the Fejees; b a t whether it comes from those who have just cooked and eat “ two citizens,” is not stated.

___ A Spanish proverb says th a t the Jews ru in themselves at theirpassoTera, the Moors a t their marriages, and the Christiana at their lawsuits.

___ The ring around the sun which was observed on Thursday, wasalluded to at the meeting of the Second Adventists, at Newark, aa that evening, as another evidence of the approaching end of th e world.

___ A late arrival a t Chicago, from Green B ay, Wisoonsin, l eportsthe Bay clear of ice, and the Devil’s door open. We should sappOM that locality was one of the few exempt from ever freezing.*

___ Rev. William Cathcart, of the Seoond Baptist Church atPhiladelphia, has published a sermon against union prayer m ettiaga He sees in them “ a dangerous tendency to further onion among Chris­tians,” and deprecates the idea that his flock should ever sit down to the table of the Lard with “ unbaptized Christians,” as he calls aQ who do not belong lo his denomination.

___ The Rev. Dr. Haskill, who was formerly a wandering juggler,known as the Faker of Siva, has been engaged a t a salary o f 91000 , as a clergyman, a t Mount Pleasant, Ohio. T is preaching there ia aud to have consisted of harangues, stories and anecdotes, and h is manner of conducting meetings to have been so disgusting th a t the meat aged and experienced of the church were grieved, and ventured to state their grievances, (Thereupon he came down npon them in tb e i perative manner in the pulpit. Suoh has been his course aad I that the church is quite broken np. It is rumored that the and conjurer had eloped with a young lady of La&yette, Indiana, aad the Western folks seemed inclined to brand him as aa im poster.

. . . . Miss Sprague, the medium, was robbed o f $110 laat weak t y the servant g irl a t the house of N ath’l W arren, Eeq., w hen aha was stopping. The girl a t first denied all knowledge o f tbe matter, b et when the police began to Bearch her, owned np , and tbe W W J M found nicely quilted into one of her under garments— Portland IY «*- script.

___ A Mr. Booth, of Rhode Island, wants the Mayor e f New Torkto employ him to drive the devil and all his imps out of that city. He says he is gifted with divine power to driTe tbo devil the face of the earth , and to wipe out from existence all thieves, and rascals. Let him begin on the Common Council, Mr. Mayor, and if he succeeds there, the rest will be an easy task.

. . . . A family residing a t Haverstock hill, England, oontained a a a f its members twin sisters, both wonderfully similar in ftoe aad pseaoa. A year ago, when they had attained sixteen, both began to eoasplein of illness, loss of appetite, and strength. Their condition becama gradually worse. They were affected w ith precisely the same symp­tom s, and a t length it became apparent tha t both were slowly dying of atrophy. Medical Bkiil oould do nothing for them, and they died w ith­in three minutes of each other, on the day on which they bad attained their 17th year. They were boned in one coffin. ^

___ The Louisville Journal says that a German woman ia Cin­cinnati has become deranged in consequence of a confeeskn w hich d e made to a priest. Her husband states th a t he bad been married to her seven years, and they had two children living. He notioedtha first insanity in his wife on Sunday evening the 10th n it . ta r n whkfc t i m e her mental derangement increased, un til she beeame pasfcafly uncontrollable. On tha t day she had been to the lunfca i onsl . aa* when she returned she told her husband that the pries* bad toM bw she was inevitably lost, and th a t when she died her soolwowld dam ad into hell to dwell with devils in everlasting torments. I t waa erfcksftj ly the fear of this that had shattered her reason. ‘

Page 3: DEVOTED TO RATIONAL SPIRITUALISM ATSTD PEA OTTO A T i …€¦ · wealthy lady of one of the fairest Earldoms in Eugland, had oome by her death. True there was little or no cause

^Cebj g o r k aito ffa ira tg .Conforonca at the Lyceum, Clinton Hall, Astor Place,

Toes d a y E ven ing , May 17th.Before taking up a new question, Mr. Fowler desired to make some

additional remarks os the old one, the influence o f our feelings on one mnother. * ■ '

Mr. F ow isa : He wished particularly to speak of the influence of our feelings oa h e a l t h , and as a cause of d e a t h . In bis opinion the state of feeling o f those having care of the sick, and of parents when their chil d ren are ill, is often the cause of their death. He had known cases of oVildren, one in particular, where as he believed, the anxiety of the m other procured the death of the child. In thc sick room, it is all im­portant tha t we encourage the f a i t h f e e l i n g , the belief tha t the patient will recover. When this is gone with nurses or physicians, they are no longer of any use there. On one occasion he went into a room where an individual was said to be dying. His physician and friends had given him over, and he supposed himself a t the last gasp. The speaker accosted him cheerfully, and told him he was not going to die now. In half an hour the patient was laughing; in three hours the fever was broken; the vomiting which no medicine had been able to control, ceased, and the gentleman got welL One sick person should never take care of another! In a case of this kind which he watched, the pulse of the patient was increased every time the sick attendant came into the room. On the contrary when he (the speaker) went into the room, ■with a different feeling, the pulse went down. This was true whether the patient knew he was present or not. This is a power we can all use. O ur presence with the sick one is not indispensable. We can visit him in mind. Persons have been healed in a dream. We come in rapport with each other in different ways; sometimes by a mere effort o f the will, and sometimes by speech or touch or magnetio passes.—

B ut it is not necessary to be in the room with the patient in order to be able to apply our magnetism. Again, he has often noticed while talking with persons, that if they did not understand him, he lost his power to go on. Their state of feeling flows in upon him, and is felt there as a request for more time to consider, or as a protest against his proceeding a t all. The psycliometrical readings, by means of letters, placed on the forehead, or held in the hand, also illustrate the law of transfer of feeling. He had experimented but little in th a t direction himself, bu t enough to satisfy him of the tru th of psychometry.

Dr. Obton : The remarks of Mr. Fowler had brought to mind some experiences of his own, tending to throw light on the intimate connec­tion of mind with mind, soul with souL His experiments with psy- ohometry, by means of letters, had been slight. On one occasion, how­ever, Mr. Fishbough placed a letter in his hands, and asked him to psychometrize the writer. Immediately there became visible to the m ind’s eye, an individual swaying to and fro like the waves of an angry sea; and he replied to Mr. Fishbough, tha t the w riter was insane, or the next thing to it ; and such indeed was the fact. In forming a rap­port simply by an effort of the will, he had some years ago, experi­mented largely. For instance, some one of his family would say to him, I wish to describe an individual I have in my mind. Immedi­ately on becoming passive, a characteristic figure would form in the mind, visible, but differing in this from, images called up by memory, th a t the feelings and intellect are visible, as well as the form. In one case, tho figure was th a t of a square built man, standing with right hand raised; could speak, and to the point, bu t not a professional speaker; firm, energetic, of great love for human kind, etc. This was Isaao T. Hopper. Another, a man standing writing a t a desk, strong, versatile, generous, etc. This was Horace Greeley. Of course he had no clue to these persons until subsequently told who they were. One remarkable feature of this power is, tha t he was able to describe him- Sfllf without knowing it, as accurately os he would another person. This transparency of mind to mind and heart to heart, toward which the race is travelling, may alarm some. I t should not. When we can no longer conceal our peccadilloes and crimes from one other, very sham e and the fear of punishment, will compel a new social state.

Da. B eynoldson: fie had spent sixteen years in the study of the in­fluences that may flow from one man to another. Animals, the horse and the dog, come under the same law. I f from any caase you are unable to sustain the vital action of any organ, your healthy brother oan take your hand, and pointing to the diseased part, can sustain it for you. The law of love underlies this power. The connection once established, it may continue for days. In this we have a power capa­ble of regenerating the whole human family. The passing of forces from his fingers, is ju s t as perceptible to him as the passing of food over his palate. These forces are operative a t the distance of miles— ten miles, fifty miles. Is it not im portant to distinguish where the natural powers end, and the spiritual begin ?

M r. Cetlinski: Can the intellectual faculties thus be increased ?S r . R eynoldson: Only perhaps stimulated into greater activity.—

He had noticed that certain diseases were generally accompanied by certain deficiencies in the development of the brain. For instance, neuralgia is usually accompanied by deficient veneration. In London he employed a lady as a clairvoyant, who was married and had one child. During the time she remained his assistant, she became enciente again, and bore another child from the same father. The last one was ia every respect greatly superior to the first.

Mr. D .: No doubt the action of mind on mind is universal; and the influence of one single mind, no one has the power to estimate. As be­fore stated, be is in the habit of communicating once a week, through a medium, with an cld friend, who w a s an eminent teacher. On a re­sent occasion while thus engaged, his friend informed him tha t he must conclude, as an importunate spirit was present interrupting him a t every moment, in her anxiety to communicate herself. The E t r a n g e

spirit accordingly gave her communication, and requested it to be read a t the Conference. In substance it was as follows:

I hope the friends will not censure me for my over anxiety. Do spir­its communicate with individuals for the purpose of injuring them ?— There was a time when I came to earth for the sake of injuring those who had injured me.. I-was a medium and received iDjury a t the hands o f another. I came back tor revenge, and succeeded. I turned oth­ers away from him ; I destroyed his peace of mind. My state of mind is now changed. The smile of the Father induced me to look up, and to rise above my passions. B ut injury will return upon him who has inflicted it. Farewell, I have now done with all discordart things.

The first sp irit then commented on the circumstance as follows: I t may be taken to illustrate several points. 1. I t shows you tha t we are subject to annoyances and interruptions the same as you are. 2. That the mind of an injured party can inflict in jury on another. 3. The possibility of reform, of a change of heart, after passing death. 4. I t dissipates that fatal panacea that there is no such thing as an evil spir­it. B ut deal justly, love mercy, and you shall find happiness and peace.■ Dr. G r a y : H o w far, independent of word3 do we influence one an­

other? Much, both as individuals and as communities. When Paul caw the man of Macedonia, who cried, Come over and help us, his reading of the passage was, that the Macedonian brother was full of tbe desire, aad that the two came in rapport so that Paul saw him.— He onoe came in such rapport with a patient of his, who was dying in New Jersey. He saw his patient dimly, the patient saw him clearly.— Suoh oases are numerous. There are thousands of them on record, where a dying person, anxious to see go mo individual, comes in rap ­port with him , and thus announces his decease; and this will account for the numerous apparitions seen on such occasious. Contagion is spread by the same law; and by t h e same is a health B p h e r e d i s s e m i ­

nated. A gentleman of his acquaintance telegraphed a message six­teen miles by impression. The man’s wife, at the end of the line, was a medium, and choosing the hour vrhen he supposed they would be at dinner, he exerted his will to impress her. They were a t dinner; andthe wife turning to her husband, said, M r .------says you need not hirethoee men, etc. The husband wrote down the message and noted the time, and the next day came to inquire about it. Two-thirds of the misery of society, and all of the pleasure, arise from this law. Two persons will get half through a quarrel before they speak at all. When they do speak, it is found tha t one is a match and the other powder.— All political commotions are transferred in this manner. They are con­tagious. Every reformer in this room comes in contact on the soul plane with every other reformer, and altogether they stand opposed to the tyrants of Europe. There is no such thing as soul distance.

Mrs. Bpince: She t h o u g h t i t in her power t o d e m o n s t r a t e the influ­ence of f e e l i n g , and its ex ten t [She c a l l e d a t t e n t i o n to a B u f f e r i n g

f a m i l y , &r w h o m a s m a l l p u r s e was a t once m a d e u p . ]

M r. L.: An uncle of his recently died, an old man between seventy and eighty. He dropped off without any apparent disease. There was something remarkable in his death which he woold state. He was a quaker. He bad been Binking some time when he apparently died.— Aftfer a little while, he opened hia eyes and began to talk. He said

death was not'as painful as he supposed. W hat they had taken for painful struggling, was only muscular contraction, eto. He talked freely of the Spirit-world, in which he seemed to be, and remained in this condition without external food, for seven weeks. When pressed to eat, he would reply, th a t he had ju s t eaten of delicious milk, fruits, etc. They moistened his lips occasionally with fluids, but this was alL He suffered no pain, and finally passed away so quietly that the time of his departure was not noticed. J. a . o.

' Corrtspffitatt.Letter from Dr. Gardner.

Spiritualism in Europe— Mr. Owen's Forthcoming Book—New Mode ofCommunication—The H arvard Committee—What makes the Baps TR eturn, &c.

L o n d o n , M a t 6 , 1859.E d i t o k s o p t h e S p i r i t u a l A o e : —Presuming that you, in common

with the readers of your paper,among whom I can count many near and very dear personal iriends, would like to hear of my present where­abouts, and of my journeyings since I left Boston on the 23d of March last, I have concluded to ask of you a brief space in your columns, through which to inform them and you, not only in regard to matters personal, but also in regard to the progress of the great tru th of inter­communication between the mundane and spiritual worlds, in the coun­tries of Europe.

I t may seem strange to yon and your readers, to write of the progress of Spiritua lism in Europe, when, but a few months since, through the columns of the immaculate, liberal and truth-telling Boston Courier, P ro f Felton, on his retu rn from a brief visit to these shores, informed the readers of that paper in general, and the citizens of America in p a r­ticular, under the imposing head of “ The last Gasp of Necromancy,” th a t Spiritualism was absolutely dead and buried in Europe, and that it was in its dying struggles in America. Yet, in plain contradiction to the learned savan’s assertion, I affirm, from what I have personally seen, and from information derived from gentlemen occupying high positions in society, both here in England and in France, that there has never been a time when so much attention has been given the subject as at the present. True, it is not loud-mouthed in its manifestations, and there are no publio efforts pu t forth, by publio lecturers or medi­ums; but, like the still small voice, it is working its way into the hearts of the people, particularly of the upper classes of society; and many persons who occupy very high and responsible positions in govermental m atters, both in England and in France, as I am assured by those who know, are deeply interestsd in the subject. Indeed, learned professors in the highest institutions of learning in this country, do not consider the subject either a “ stupendous delusion” or its advocates “ impos­tors or fools,” or that its tendency is to “ destroy the truthfulness of man or the purity of woman;” bu t have, on the contrary, manifested an earnest desire to give the whole subject a careful and candid inves­tigation, whenever opportunities for so doing have been presented.

Shortly after my arrival in London, I had the pleasure of forming the acquaintance of the Hon. Robert Dale Owen, late United States Minister at the court of Naples; and I was happy to learn from him­self, what I had before heard by report, th a t he “ is about publishing a work upon Spiritualism.” The work is to be entitled, “ The Probabil­ities of U ltra Mundane Communication.” B ut this work will only in ­clude, incidentally, a notice of the spiritual phenomena of the present day. Mr. Owen has had no opportunity to witness the more startling and convincing phenomena denominated spiritual, as he has been ab­sent from the United States some five years; and we have been much more highly favored than any other people with these manifestations in all the variety of forms in which they are presented. In the conversa­tions I had with him upon the subject, I learned that the work he pro­poses to publish will take a very wide range, and will be chiefly of a his­torical character. He has been studying in connection with it thephys- iology of the Nervous System; also such subjects as Insanity, H allu ­cination, the Mental Epidemics of Europe, and the doctrines of Mental Physiology as published by Abercrombie, Holland and Bishop. A main portion of his work will relate to the question of the reality of Ap­paritions, and of Dream-revealings, independent of modern spiritual phenomena. I t will also contain an inquiry, based on actual n a rra ­tives, running back through the entire last two centuries, whether there nre any actual phenomena underlying the popular ideas in regard to haunted houses. I t will trea t further upon the various phases of Sleep, Dreams, Somnambulism, Hypnotism, Esstacy, and ( f the alleged possessions and obsessions of the Catholic Church.

Mr. Owen has witnessed some of the phases of Phenomenal Spiritual­ism; and I have no doubt he will treat the subject fairly, candidly and impartially, so far as his observation has gone. B ut in Naples, where he has been for the last five years, it is not probable (as above stated) tha t he could have witnessed the most convincing phases; and even in London and Paris, where he has spent the past winter, he can have seen little compare! to what he might have witnessed in his own coun­try . Mr. Owen also seems to me to be of tha t Eevere and somewhat skeptioal cast of mind which often requires, for anything contrary to preconceived opinions, evidence of a character which from tho nature of the case it is exceedingly difficult to furnish. Yet I am satisfied he will use every effort to make himself thoroughly acquainted with all the multifarious phases of the modern phenomena as soon as he returns to America. Mr. O. told me tha t nine tenths of his book w ould consist of matters of fact which he has colleoted with much labor and expense, and which will always be of great value as a book of reference, inde­pendent of all theories. His familiarity with the Frenca and German languages has given him access to many sources of information with which we in America are little familiar. From my conversations witn him I should judge that his religious opinions have either been m isun­derstood or that he h is materially changed them within the past few years. I venture to predict for his work a very large sale, particularly among the opponents of Spiritualism; and I hope also the friends of the cause will give it a careful perusal, as from it much valuable informa­tion may be obtained, tending to throw light on the subject of the miracles (so-called) of the past as well as those of the present. I have no doubt but the forthcoming volume will be productive of much good, if ouly by encouraging inquiry and promoting discussion. I t will be published in November, in the United States.

In Paris I witnessed a method of communication of which I had not heard in America. The instrum ent used by them they call a Planchette. l t requires two mediums to use it, and the method of communication is by writing. In order to give you some idea of the interest taken in the investigation of the subject in P aris, it will be only necessary to state tha t I called upon the manufacturer of the above-mentioned instru ­ment, to purchase one to take home with m e, and he informed Mr. Owen, who was with me, that he had made and sold several hundred in P a ris alone. And when it is considered that each instrum ent re­quires at least two mediums to operate it, and one answers for a circle or entire family, you will a t once perceive tha t thousands in that city alone, are in constant intercourse with the spirit-world. So much for the assertion of Prof. Felton before referred to.

Not being able to speak the French language, I could not enjoy the society of the household of faith as I could have done under more fa­vorable circumstances; yet on visiting in a family where the Planchette was used, the invisible intelligences found no difficulty in writing in my own native tongue, bringing forcibly to my mind the recorded do­ings on the day of Pentecost. In England I have met with several me­diums in private families and find that the unseen ones who have gone before, have opened many channels of communication through which they can come to the loved ones of earth , bearing messages of love and good will, and the assurance of a more glorious hereafter.

By the way, I came near forgetting to advise the far-famed Commit­tee of Investigation of Harvard College—Professors Pierce, Agassiz, and Dr. Gould—to purchase Mr. Owen’s book; as peradventure they may, through his researches, learn how those raps were made through the mediumship of Mrs. Brown and her sister, Miss C. Fox, a t the Albion rooms, in June, 1857, and which P ro f Agassiz pledged his. word to fully explain to those present before the close of the inves­tigation, but which, it is needless to say, he failed to do—as all other learned (or ignorant, I care not which,) pretenders have, who have allowed themselves to make such rash promises. How were the raps made ? and where is that report that was promised to soon follow the immortal award? are questious tha t are often asked by the public, and to which no one has a better right to demand an answer than myself.— Gentlemen, as a representative of the fonr or five millions of American citizens whom you so grossly Blandered in the concluding sentence of your award, I do demand an answer. Shall I have it ? '

I will add tha t the above questions would not have been propounded in th is letter, had not the subjeot been so often brought to my mind sinQi

I have been in Europe, by intelligent persons putting to me the same questions.

I will only say in conclusion, that since I left Boston my health has been very much improved; and I expect soon to re tu rn , renewed in strength and inspired by a strong confidence in the heaven-appointed ministry of Angels, to do battle in the future as I have done in the past, against the combined powers of learned ignorance, bigotry and sectarian intolerance, by doing all in my power for the advancement of the cause of Spiritualism in its true and divine sense.

I expect to sail from Liverpool, either in the Cunard Steamer America, for Boston, on the 21st, or in the City of Washington for New York, on the 25th inst—probably in the latter. Possibly I may not be able to finish my business so soon, and be obliged to await the sailing of the next steamer for Boston, on the 4 th of June.

Fraternally yours, H. F. G a b d n e b .

From Canada West.E d i t o r s A o e :—W e l o v e a g e n e r o u s e n t h u s i a s m — t h a t f o r c e o f c h a r ­

a c t e r w h i c h i m b u e s a m a n w i t h m a g n a n i m o u s z e a l i n a l l a s p i r a t i o n a l

e S b r t s . W hat o d d s t o u s h i s p r o f e s s i o n ? i f h o n e s t i n h i s c o n v i c t i o n s ,

a n d i n d e p e n d e n t i n t h e i r o b s e r v a n c e , t h a t m a n i s m a d e i n h e a v e n ’s

t r u e s t m o u l d . H e i s o u r b r o t h e r i n T ruth , a n d a l l e l s e a r e f a w n i n g

s y c o p h a n t s . This i s o u r m e t e - y a r d o f a t r u e s o u l —m u t u a l h o n e s t y t o

God and s e l f I t i m p l i e s j u s t i c e t o e a c h a n d a l l . O ur i d e a l m a n i s n o t

u l t i m a t e p e r f e c t i o n , f o r t h a t i s b e y o n d o u r m e a s u r e m e n t . B ut h e aims a t t h e c o m p l e t e r o u n d i D g o f c h a r a c t a r — f o r “ w e s h o u l d s t u d y t o b e a s

p e r f e c t a s p o s s i b l e . ”

To be content with what is already attained is to fold our hands and irresolutely sit in the dead past; to look into the yesterdays with a blank, unmeaning gaze. But still more repugnant is the idea of spend­ing an E tern ity in sluggishness. No heroic impulses to warm the soul into deeds of noble daring, a n i but an isolated hope to gratify endless negative happiness. As we beliove in enthusiasm, so we hold to ac­tion as the main-spring of life.

With earnest John Wesley, we hold that “ there is a real influence of the sp irit of God,” and also an imaginary one. The one produces dignity of action; the other, dogmatism and narrowness. One liberal­izes, the other formalizes. Need the false enthusiasts be pointed out ? They who with oracular lips pronounce their creed perfect, and a ll else un true, who see the skies beyond shrouded in darkness, and no l o D g e r

fresh inspirations lighting the way of our humanity. They dread innovation. And every great soul, struggling for a still higher alti­tude has had to encounter the attacks of such. To quote the words of Wesley, as particularly applicable to our own time: “ Many supposethemselves to be under that influence” (the spirit of God,) “ when they are not; when it is far from them. And many others sup­pose they are more under that influence than they really are. Of this number, I fear, are all they who imagine that God dictates the very words they speak; and th a t consequently, it is impossible they should speak anything ami3s, either as to the matter or manner of it. Tt is w e l l known how many enthusiasts of this sort have appeared during the present century, some of whom speak in a far more authoritative manner than either St. Paul Or any of the Apostles.”

No true man will allow another to stand ’twixt him and his God. Of this class was John Wesley, and it is to be regretted that so many of his protended followers have so radically mistaken his character. I t seems to me the creed is no part of the true man’s aspiration—rather his limitation. I t localizes— forms his boundaries. Unless his creed takes in the vast universe, he must needs go beyond it to satisfy his aspiring nature. And S p i r i t u a l i s m , above all other organizauons, if such the new dispensation may be termed, E e e m s best calculated to give the full­est development to individual character, and thus purify the life-cur­rent which throbs in the s o c i a l w h o l e .

T H E N EED OP TR A CT S.

We need missionaries to awaken the mass to a newer life. And in­asmuch as there are so few who feel inclined or prepared to devote their energies to the work of evangelization, other instrumentalities must be made to supply in a measure this deficiency. Few pamphlets have been issued. Books are too expensive for the many who are yet unacquainted with Spiritualism. There should be more cheap tracts published. Cannot a tract Society be organized to aid in the dissemination of liberal principles; giving, in brief, the facts,—and treating of the philosophy of the New Movement? By such simple means one hun­dred may be reached where ten are now—and the good work progress as it should. There is no lack of condensed m atter to supply material for this sort of cheap reading. I might specify “ The Philosophy of In ­spiration,” “ Observations on Fate and Free Agency,” “ Management of Circles,” “ Spiritualism and its Corrollaries,” ‘‘ What is the True Philosophy of Reform,” “ Spiritualism as an agency of Reform,” (all of which have appeared in the A g e ) , and many othacs well adapted to introduce rational ideas and uproot irrational ones.

T IT H IN G .

The organ of one branch of the Methodist church in the Prov­inces, advocates in very pointed terms the system of tithing— “ believing that his (God’s) claim upon a t l e a s t o n e t e n t h of the product of our labors, is ju s t as absolute as upon one seventh of our time.” And to make a still more positive “ impression,” cites the “ terrible visitations of Providence upon the ancient Jews for their skepticism in this matter. “ More than once,” says this print, “ it brought upon them blasting and mildew, the locust, the caterpillar, the canker worm and the palmer-worm—the armies which God marshalled against them, and by whioh he took vengeance upon them. In the same style, the American Bible Union appeals for funds to forward the publication of the New Version, to wit: “ in the name of tho Lord.” I put these on record as queer specimens of Christian ( ? ) propagand- ism. '

t a x a t i o n o r a m e b i c a n p u b l i c a t i o n s .

The question recently came before the House relative to imposing a duty upon hooks and periodicals published in the U. S., and which were brought to the Provinces. There was a unanimity uf sentiment except upon religious books—some in favor of exempting all such from duty—and others, only the Bible—all however agreeing tha t it should be free from taxation. What magnanimous legislators! living in a world of manifold scientific and religious truths, they are able to give a “ free pass” to merely a pocket edition of “ His Will and Testament to Mankind.” '

p r o p h e c y o f d e a t h , p r e m o n i t i o n s , e t c .

I t is related of Mrs. Margaret Taylor, lately deceased in Toronto, that she died in the precise fulfillment of the time prefixed by her daughter (then a child of five or six) fifteen years since.

An elderly lady “ dreamed” of the death of her granddaughter which occurred a few days afterward. The child was apparently healthy at the time of the prevision.

A M rs .------, now living with her third husband, Baw in a visionthe death and burial of her first husband, which occurred about one year after.

Mrs. S------ , of Detroit, an English lady, gave me the following (toher) singular premonition of death. She had shortly returned from a visit, some sixteen miles distant, to her afflicted mother. At the time of their last earthly p irting the invalid was convalescing, and promised to return the visit as soon as able. She punctually fu lfilled the prom ­ise. On the night of her mother’s decease, as subsequently ascertained, Mrs. S. was summarily raised twice in her bed by something beyond her own control, and made to assume a sitting posture, each time hav­ing an infant babe in her arms. Addressing her husband, and saying she was sure this indicated a death, he advised her to go to sleep, as it was a mere fancy. But it proved otherwise.

h o w t h e a n t i - s p i r i t u a l p r e s s s t u l t i f i e s i t s e l f .

I send you the Ladies' Repository (Cincinnati), a magazine which, as you will see, with others of the “ religious” press, takes radical ground in opposition to Spiritualism. B ut in the same number Spir­itualism is both enforced and abused. The well-written chapter on “ Guardian Angels” covers in brief much of the ground of spiritual in tercourse.

The beauty of our doctrine is aUo forcibly illustrated in this sweet little incident which gently rebukes the infidelity of the paper I clipped i t from. I found it in the Toronto Christian G uardian:

“ ‘ W e'll all meet again in the morning! '—Such was the exclama­tion of a dying child, says the Newark M ercury, as the red rays of sunset streamed on him through the casement. ‘Good-bye, papa; good­bye! M am m a has come fo r me to-night; don’t cry, papa! We’U all meet again in the morning!’ I t was as if an angel spoke to that fath­er, and his heart grew lighter under his burden.”

Spiritualism is false or it is true. We believe it is true, and are not willing to rudely dismiss lhe angels, to suit the caprice of any class. The Repository and G uardian reject the heresy bu t entertain the an­

gels, evidently unawares. We laud the virtue o f their mistake, and pity the error of their inconsistency. W ith much respect,

. Yours, & o . , C h a s W. R i o h I e d s o s ,

H o w a r d P l a o e , K ent C o . , C . W. '

Miss Doten at Springfield. .E d i t o r s o p t h e A g k :— That effective and very acceptable trance

speaker, L i z z i e D o t e n , occupied the platform a t Hampden Hall, on Sunday, May 8 , and also on the Sunday succeeding, speaking four times on as many different subjects, increasing in interest to the last. Her subjects in the order of delivery were: Human weakness, Retribu­tion, Progression and Spiritnal giftfe H er utterances throughout, Whether self-prompted or poured through her organism by other intelli. genoes, came from a source richly imbued with charity, tru th and goodness, exhibiting an earnestness such as can only flow from a pro­found conviction of the tru th and deep-felt importance of its acceptance by mankind ; revealing a heart warm and palpitating with world-wide philanthropy, embracing the whole of hum anity; not forgetting the beaten and bleeding slave in the rice swamps of the South, nor the miserable being in our gutters a t home here in New England.

That the lecturer labored to be logically accurate throughout the protracted discussions was evident; and it was equally evident that the labor was not in vain. The language was uniformly well-ohosen, and the accompanying gesticulations quite unexceptionable. The listeners were made to feel that all wrong doing was bad investment, and that to escape the consequences of our acts was u tterly impossible—that no vicarious atonement could help us in the least; that sin was no cheap affair, and that retribution was as inevitable as the ocean tides; that all seeking for • spiritual gifts,' except for use and good, for spiritual eleva­tion and benificent purpose, was abortive and mischievous; tha t man’s past was the prophecy of his future; tha t there could be no prophecy without a previous history; that human improvement all along the pathway of the ages indicated prophetically the greater improvements yet to come, until man, though he may have, through weakness or wickedness, gravitated to the ‘ lowest hell,’ yet the shining way of up­ward progress was ever open above him ; and when the aspiration stirred within him, as sooner or later it m ust, to attain to a higher and better life, and he hears the F ather’s voice from on high calling to him through the hosts of intervening media to 1 come up hither,’ he will begin to climb the glorious, though sometimes rugged ascent, until he reaches the sublime heights, whose summits lose themselves ‘ amid the splendors of tho empyrean.’ "~

The effort had the clear ring of the truo gospel metal in it, and pro­duced a most salutary effect. Especially was this true of the closing lecture, which was given to quite a full house.

One ingredient of great importance in the sum total of the means of L i z z i e D o t e n *s effectiveness as a public speaker, is the predominent influence of the religious element in her ministrations.

Nothing is more obvious to me, than tha t man is constitutionally a religious being; and no one who desires to influence his fellow men to make progress in moral and spiritual culture, can afford to ignore, orlightly esteem this fundamental element in the human constitution.__Notwithstanding the objections which philosophy can raise against what, for want of more knowledge and a wider comprehension, we call a Supreme Individual Intelligence, and Universal Parent, the swelling heart of humanity impelled by its intuitions, will, either through phi­losophy and reason, or over them, leap to grasp the idea, all incompre­hensible as it is, of an eternal self-existant G o d , possessed of infinite perfections; the great Parent of all, full of that love to all, Which is constantly drawing as with a magnet the affections of all intelligent beings to their woi.drous source.

So it seems to me. B ut I have no idea of going into a metaphysicaldiscussion on this subject. I have no adequate qualification therefor.__Still less do I wish to dogmatize. I took my pen mainly to tell your readers that L i z z i e D o t e n has just given us a series of lectures on spiritual matters, very much to our edification and comfort; and also to .gay, that though we have heretofore had able lectures from gifted media on spiritual subjects, yet for general coherency, logical strength, style of delivery, effectiveness of appeal, and practical importance of the subject-matter of discussion, the lecturer in question, has not been excelled. Yours truly, for a useful Spiritualism,

S p r i n g f i e l d , M a s s , M a y 17, 1859. E. W. T w i n o .

Why am I a Spiritualist ?—No. IX.A p s y c h o l o g i c a l e x p e r i e n c e .

Fourteenth day of December, eighteen hundred and fifty—how well I remember that day! I t gave into life my darling Mary. I t was a cold day, cheerless and uncomfortable. I was riding across the prai­ries of northern Illinois, between Dixon and Mount Carroll. All at once I felt a strange sensation steal over me, unlike the usual sleepi­ness of a ride in the cold. There was a sort of stupor on me that seemed to benumb my nature. I became alarmed, and got down and ran on the ground. In fact I tried every possible means to throw off the lethargy, but to no purpose. I then pu t whip to my horse and hurried through to Mount Carroll. As I drove up to the door I met the Landlord, who asked with some surprise what was the matter. I made but little answer; but called for a bed and retired.

Soon I was asleep. I dreamed tha t I was a t home, and that my wife gave me a beautiful little girl. I dreamed that Dr. H., Mrs. C ., and my mother and s:ster were present. In fact, every particular con­nected with the birth of my child was presented to me as tangibly as though I had been present. The usual congratulations were passed and the mother was complimented by her friends.

I awoke from my dream. I slept again and dreamed the same thing over, with this addition—that there was a serious unpleasant feeling cast over all present, and then a deathly paleness passed over the fea­tures of my wife; and great uneasiness was manifested for her welfare. I awoke again, and looked about the room to see if I was alone. Soon I slept for the third time and dreamed again the- same thing but with another addition, which was this—I thought the spirit of a fair being I once knew in the earth form stood by, and assured me that there was no danger; but tha t my wife would recover and live for many years.

The dream was so vivid and clear tha t I had confidence in it, and wrote home the next morning how all things had terminated, and that my wife had giveu b irth to a daughter.

On my arrival a t Galena, some four or five days after, I found let­ters from home confirming my dream in every particular, save the dead­ly paleness and extreme sickness. The next day I went on to Mineral point, Wisconsin. I t was a wet, cold, snowy day—just such a time as one dislikes to be out in. On my arrival I put up with Bro. Skinner; and while sitting by the fire, with all my faculties in a reasoning condi­tion, and thinking a t the time of matters foreign to my family affairs, all at once I saw myself entering Abbot’s Hotel, Platteville, Wisconsin (some twelve miles from Mineral Point). My apparition or second self went forward to the fire, took off my over coat, shook the snow from it, handed it to the porter and turned back to the fire. At thia momenta man entered the Hotel and enquired if Wilson, the book agent, was there. “ Yes,” I said, what do you want ?” “ Here is a tele­graph for you; and it brings sad news.” I saw myself take and open it, and then I read as follows, calling the attention of those in Mineral Point to what I was reading at a distance of twelve miles, as follows:

“ Mr. E. V. Wilson;— Come home'at once. Your wife is dying.W. W. D a-n e n h o w e r . ”

This telegram was from Chicago, and forwarded by Mr. D. I ordered my horses at once, and drove as rapidly as possible to Plattville, entered the hotel all covered with snow, took off my Coat, shook it and gave it to the porter, and turned round to speak to Mr. Abbot, the landlord. I heard my name called by a stranger who a t that moment entered the office. I responded, and he said, “ Here is a telegraph for you.”

“ Yes,” I said, “ and it contains news tha t my wife is dying.” And then I read the message, as written above.

I t was opened in the presence of many witnesses, and found to be a verbatim reading of the dispatch.

I then replied, “ I t is all well. My wife will live; but I will go home.”

On my arrival a t home, I found my wife very low, and her life de­spaired of by her friends. Yet I knew tha t she would get well; and she did; but it was after an illness ot six month’s duration.

W hat is this most potent power, tha t brings the soul out from the temple in whioh it dwells and conveys to the brain a matter-of-fact communication, a t a distance of hundreds of miles, vividly and tru th ­fully portraying every circumstance, seeing with the Spiritual eyes as though the natural organs were present ? What is it, but the spirit tr i­umphing over the physical—the spirit moving independent of the phy­sical m an.— demonstrating to a certainty tha t man is dual in his nature ?

e. v . w.

T H E S P I R I T U A L A G KBO STO N , N EW Y O R K AND CHICAGO, M AY 2 8 , 1869.

IiSTTots Bbcxited —H Cummins, T Marshall, J W WiHtrd, J C lU ttb m , I t Johnston, F L Wadsworth, A W Hall, W Chase, S W T*ing,' K H g w > « % J O Wallace, L Jay. L Moody.' E Hardinge. O Martin, T Binglan. A OJMtafeMk* J H Rhode*, A F Chatfleld, J F Hoyt, M Sperry, J Weller, 8 NOes, B L Washburn, A Howell, J C Patterson, fl Cook, H B Tngalls. . •

SPECIAL AHD PERSONAL.

H ot* fro m M. V. Bly* * ^___Kinross S p i r i t u a l Aqb.—Having read a note In your paper c t May 14th, f t w

Mr* A. L. Coan, concerning an exhibition which I gare in connection with her afc the Melodeon, Boston, a short time since, I foelM impressed” to give a brief adAtCVtfc* ltd account of the affair alluded to, believing that many of ; know the troth and have all Aum&vps exposed.

A day or two before the exhibition alluded, to I visited Mrs. Coan, at her i desired to have a •* sitting.** SUe said u conditions’1 went not favorable. I tha* commenced a conversation with her, after giving my name. She said die had |iMB up spiritualism, and that if she appeared before the public again it woold be aa aa poser. I suggested that toe should give a combination exhibition in the Mtiodeon, as it would be likely to draw. She was much pleased with the idea, muatnted, at oacfe, and suggested that provided it worked well we should ran it two nights, and oa the second evening she would publicly renounce and then accompany me to New T « k , where she was sure we would draw large audiences. The exhibition at tha M dotea was well attended, and the following morning I paid, her twentjh+eveu doUara, (eaa» half of the nett proceeds) though I performed all the labor. She was b o t thaa pleased, and asked if she did not play it well! I said “ yes,” and that if ■he dad aa well the next night she should have a leather medaL She assured me lb on hand. Although in her note she intimates that she did not intend to \ second eveniog, yet at the close ofthe first exhibition she assured tha aartknoe 4h» would be present the next evening, and sent a note that she was a Indlspoeed,1* aa % reason for non-appearanee *, that I could do more than herself or any <As I did not desire a partner in business, (especially one so liab e to 1 posetP1) and believing that an expose from her would not be palatable to either sptr* itualists or skeptics, I declined farther connection with her, and benee her note that she will continue to operate as a “ medium.” I should not have related the partica lars of my private interview with 41 Ada,” had she not been bo extremely anMni la me in her note. After I had procured for htr, (in time of need)-twenty MTts doBact, bnt refusing to co-operate farther with her, she says she was “ disgusted” with tha exhibition. She did not appear u disgusted,” the morning after, when I paid her the twenty-seven dollars ! I cannot believe that the u note” originated with Aar alMfc*

I will say, in conclusion, to the readers of the Spiritual Age, (the only spiritsal pa­per, I believe, willing to giro a hearing to a skeptical brother) that I am still a ba- liever in the spiritual philosophy ; believe it to be the most consistent aad rational with regard to a continued existence, but am opposed to u bogus mediums,n who per­form for a price, and, “ conditions” being favorable, I will pursue them and expose their iniquities, until they retire In u d itgust” from the field. Yours, respectfoQy,

B o s t o n , M a y 23d , 1859. ^ _________________ M . V . B i t .

S . B . B e it t a k w il l l e c tu re i n M ilfo rd , N . H ^ S u n d a y 2 9 th ; L o w ell, M a d a y J a n e £ th ; a ls o M o n d a y e v e n in g C th ; in T a u n te n , M a s s ^ o n th e th i r d S u n d a y s In J u n e ( 1 2 th a n d 19th)*, a n d i n P u tn a m , C o n n . , t h e f o u r th S u n d a y I n J u n e (26 th ) .

M r. B r i t t a n is e x p e c te d to r e m a in in e a c h o f t h e p la c e s n a m e d a b o v e , f ro m t h r e e l a five d a y s , n e x t s u c c e e d in g h i s a p p o in tm e n t , d u r in g w h ic h t im e h * w i l l c o n tin u e h i s le c tu re s in th e p la c e s m e n t io n e d , o r v i s i t o th e r p la c e s i n th e s e v e r a l n e ig h b o rb o o d a w h e re v e r h i s s e rv ic e s m a y b e e n g a g e d .

W a b r b h C h a s e le c tu re s in K a la m a x o o , M ic h ., M a y 2 9 th ; G r a n d R a p id s J a n e S I , S d , 4 th a n d 5 th ; G ra n d H a v e n , 9 th a n d 1 0 th ; M ilw a u k le , W is ^ J u n e 1 3 th ; C h ic a g o , t i l . , 1 9 th a n d 2 6 th ; B e r lin , O h io , ( a t a G ro v e M e e tin g ) J u l y 1 s t , 2 d a n d 3 d ; G e n e r a ,0 , J u l y 1 0 th ; C o n n e a u t , O h io , 1 3 th a n d 1 4 ih ; B u f fa lo , N . T . 1 7 th a n d 3 4 th ; R o c h e s t e r , J u l y 3 1 s t- T h e f r ie n d s in N e w E n g la n d w h o w a n t h im t o le c tu re i n t h e F a U s h o u ld w r i te h im so o n a t t h e b e fo re -n a m e d tim e s a n d p la c e s .

L . J u d d P a r d b s m a y b e a d d re s s e d a t th e F o u n ta in H o u s e , B o s to n . H e s p e a k s aft M ilfo rd S u n d a y th e 2 9 th ; a t N e w b u ry p o r t J u n e 5 th ; a n d a t P ly m o u th J a n e ? p h »-

A . B . W s i t i s g m a y b e a d d re s s e d a t B ro o k ly n , M ic h ., t i l l f u r t h e r n o t ic e .

G a o . A t e ik s w ill s p e a k in O r le a n s , M a s s ^ o n S u n d a y ,•M a y 2 9 -h .

L o r in q M o o d t w ill le c tu re a s fo llow s— M a rlb o ro , S u n d a y M a y 2 9 th ; F e lto m riB e , 3 th ; B e r lin , T u e s ., 3 1 s t ; C lin to n , W e d ., J u n e 1 s t ; L e o m in s te r , J u n e 2 d a a d 3 d ; f t d f c - b u r g , S u n d a y J u n e 5 th ; L u n e n b u r g , T u e s . a n d W e d ., T th a n d 8t h ; S h i r le y T S a g e , 9 th a n d 1 0 th ; S o u th G ro to n , 1 2 th ; N o . C h e lm s fo rd , T u e s . a n d W e d . 1 4 th a n d U t h ; T y n g sb o ro * , T h u r s d a y a n d F r id a y . 1 6 th a n d 1 7 th ; M ilfo rd , N . H . S u n d a y 1 9 th . H a w il l a c t a s a g e n t fo r th e A g e a n d B a k x k b ; a n d a lso a n s w e r c a l l s to le c tu re . I d d i t a , M a ld e n , M a ss . '

M iss E u u a H a b d ix g b w ill l e c tu re f o r t h e r e s t o f M a y , a t W o rc e s te r , H e L o w ell, C o n c o rd , N e w b u ry p o r t , a n d d u i in g J u n e a t P o r t l a n d a n d Os w e g o . H a r d in g e ’d e n g a g e m e n ts a r e c o m p le te d fo r th e S u m m e r m o n th s , a n d i n S e p te m b e r s h e co m m e n c es h e r t o u r W e s t , N o r th , a n d S o u th ; a p p lic a t io n s fo r t h e s e T ra frm a t o b a a d d re s s e d to h e r re s id e n c e , 8 F o u r th A v e n i e , N ew T o r k , u n t i l O c to b e r a n d N o v e m ­b e r , w h ic h m o n th s s h e h a s p ro m is e d i n S t . L o u is a n d M e m p h is , T e n n

H . P . F a ir f i e l d , T r a n c e - s p e a k in g M e d iu m m a y b e a d d re s s e d a t G re e n w ic h Y B la g e , • M a ss .

F . L . W a d s w o r t h s p e a k s M a y 2 9 th a t T a u n to n ; J u n e 5 th a n d 1 2 th stt2 6 th a t M a r lb o ro . T h o s e d e s ir in g h i s s e rv ic e s d u r in g th e w e e k ***" a d d re s s t h i s O f i c e .

H . L . B o w k e r , N a t ic k , M a s s , w il l g iv e l e c tu re s o n S p i r i tu a l is m a n d i t s y o oh , f t m in tu i t io n , fo r s u c h c o m p e n s a tio n a)>ove e x p e n s e s a s g e n e ro s i ty m a y p ro m p t .

M b s . J . W . C c r r ir r w ill a n s w e r c a l l s to l e c tu re . A d d re s s L o w ell, B o x 8 1 5 . S h e w ill s p e a k a s fo llo w s:— M ilfo rd , N . H . , M a y 1 5 th ; E a s t S to u g h to n , M a y 2 9 th ; F a x - b o ro , J u n e 5 th a n d 1 2 th ; S p r in g f ie ld , J u n e 1 9 th a n d 2 8 th ; P u tn a m , C o r n u J u j y 3 d a n d 1 0 th . S h e w ill s to p a few d a y s In e a c h o f th e a b o v e p la c e s , a n d w ill a l t f o r t e s t s o f s p i r i t p o w e r , b y t ra n c e , c la i rv o y a n t , a n d p h y s ic a l m a n if e s ta t io n s .

G . B . S t e b b i n s s p e a k s o n S u n d a y s th r o u g h th e y e a r a t A n n A r b o r , M ic h - ; a a f t w i l l a n s w e r c a lls to le c tu re in t h a t v ic in i ty in th e w e e k .

N . F k a x k W h it s c a n b e a d d re s s e d u n t i l th e m id d le o f M a y a t B e lo it , W is . ; h e w ffl l e c tu re t h ro u g h th e m o n th o f J u n e a t S t . L o u is ; f ro m th e r e to C in c in n a t i , e a s t . A n y c a lls fo r w e e k e v e n in g s c a n b e a d d re s s e d to h im th e r e ; c a l l s e a s t ot C in ­c in n a t i s h o u ld b e a d d re s s e d h im a t S t . L o u is to g iv e tim e fo r t h e a p p o in tm e n t s .

M r s . M . M a c o v b k b , t r a n c e - s p e a k e r , w Ql r e c e iv e c a l l s to le c tu re . A d d r e s s a t O tn e y - v i ile , B . I . 17— 3 m *

M rs. M . s p e a k s a t P u tn a m C t , M a y 2 9 th a n d J u n e 5 th .

M r s . F a n n i e B u r b a n k F e l t o n w iU le c tu re in B a ltim o re , M d ., t h e f iv e S o n d a j a c t M a y . F r ie n d s in th e v ic in i ty o f B a l tim o re w is h in g to e n g a g e h e r s e rv ic e s fo r e v e n in g s , d u r in g h e r s ta y in t h a t p la c e , w il l a d d re s s W il la r d B a r n e s F e l to n , ^ Mi, B a lt im o re , M d .

M is s A . W . S p r a g u b s p e a k s a t P o r t l a n d , M e ., t h e f i r s t Tour S u n d a y s in M a y . H e r a d d re s s th ro u g h th e m o n th o f J u n e w*ll b e P ly m o u th , T t ; t h r o u g h J u l y a a d A o g v t sh e w il l s p e a k a t O sw eg o , N . Y .

B e v . J o h n P ik b p o x t w ill r e c e iv e c a l l s to s p e a k o n S p i r i t o a l i s a . A d d r c a a , W « t M e d fo rd , M a ss .

P R I V A T E C O U R S E O F I N S T R U C T I O N In V ita l E le c tr ic i ty , E le c tro -P h y s io lo g y , A n im a l M a g n e tism , P sy ­

ch o lo g y , M e n ta l T e le g ra p h in g , E tc .T h e r a p id p ro g re s s o f S p ir i tu a l is m i n th is c o u n t r y h n * a w a k e n e d a w id e -e p re a d

c o n s ta n t ly in c re a s in g in te r e s t in th o se s c ie n c e s w h ic h a r c fo u n d e d o n a n o h r o T a t i a o o f th e p h e n o m e n a a n d la w s o f t h e Im p o n d e r a b le A g e n ts , a n d e s p e c ia lly o n t h e i r to T i ta l M o tio n , to S e n s a tio n a n d to T h o u g h t , a s w e ll a s to t h e s e v e ra l p h y sa o fe g iae d a n d p sy c h o lo g iz ed c h a n g e s t h e y a r e c a p a b le o f p r o d u c in g , i l lu s t r a t io n s o f w h ic h a r o d a i ly o c c u rr in g in th e e v e r -v a ry in g c o n d it io n s a n d a s p e c t s o f H u m a n N a tu r e .

I n th e j u d g m e n t o f th e u n d e r s ig n e d th e p r e s e n t t im e c a l ls fo r A C o u n t o f F a ­m i l i a r I n s t r u c t i o n in w h ic h th e im p o r ta n t fa c ts a n d e s s e n t ia l p r in c ip le s in v o lv e d i a th e s u b je c ts r e f e r re d to m a y b e p ro p e r ly c la s s if ie d , a n d so e x p la in e d a s to r e n d e r t f a m ilia r to th e co m m o n m in d . T h u s w e m a y r e n d e r o u r k n o w le d g e ' u s e fu l b y i p r a c t ic a l a p p lic a t io n o f t h e s a m e a s s h a ll p r e s e rv e th e p h y s ic a l , »m< ih a rm o n y o f th e in d iv id u a l .

T o th is e n d th e u n d e rs ig n e d w il l o rg a n iz e a n d i n s t r u c t P r ix x it e Classes w h e t e v e r h is s e rv ic es m a y b e e n g a g e d fo r t h i s p u r p o s e .

T h e c o u rse of p r iv a t e i n s t r u c t io n w il l c o m p re h e n d th e R e la t io n s o f V i t a l K H ^ r ^ y to th e O rg a n ic F u n c t io n s ; P h i lo s o p h y o f H e a l th a n d D is e a s e ; h o w to d i s t in g u i s h , b y th e o b s e rv a tio n o f E x te r n a l S ig n s , t h e P o s itiv e a n d N e g a t iv e fo rm s o f D is e a s e ; k m w

th e m in d m a y r e n o v a t e o r d e s t r o y t h e b o d y ; h o w to a p p ly t h is p o w e r t o t b e t r e a t ­m e n t o f t h e Bick; h o w t o r e s i s t f ro s t a n d th e a tm o s p h e r ic c h a n g e s ; b o w t o g u a r d a g a in s t C o n ta g io n ; h o w to r e l ie v e p a in a n d re m o v e D isease b y e q u a liz in g th e N e r v o s a F o rc e s a n d th e A r t e r i a l C i r c u la t io n , w i th o u t w a i t in g fo r t h e a low p m r r s s ^ * ^ d o u b tfu l r e s u l ts o f t h e o r d in a r y m e th o d s ; t h e s c ie n t if ic a p p l ic a t io n o f T r u - f C j ^ M a g n e tism a s R e m e d ia l A g e n ts ; in f lu e n c e o f p h y s ic a l , m e n ta l a n d m o ra l s t a t s o u o rg a n ic fo rm a tio n a n d c h a r a c te r ; t h e m o d u s o p e r a n d i w h e r e b y th e se n a e s o f o g e p e r* so n m a y b e c o n tro lle d b y a n o th e r ; t h e p ro c e s s o f i n d u c in g th e M a g n e t ic S le e p a n d t h a C la ir v o y a n t V is io n ; h o w to p e rfo rm a ll th e so -c a l le d P s y c h o lo g ic a l l ae lu d in g M e n ta l T e le g r a p h in g a t a d i s t a n c e , & c. & c.

A d d re s s B. B . B R IT T A N , N e w Y o rk C i ty , o r N e w a rk , N . J .

M EETIN G S IN BOSTON.M k b t ix g s a t N o 14r B r o m f i e l d S t . — A S p i r i tu a l is t m e e t in g is e v e r r

m o rn in g , a t 10 1-2 o ’c lo c k . ^ ^A C o n fe re n c e M e e tin g is h e ld e v e r y M o n d a y e v e n in g a t 7 1 -2 o 'c lo c k .A t H a r m o n t H a l l , 4 1 9 W a s h in g to n s t r e e t . F r e e m e e t in g s S u n d a y m o r n i m a t

10 1-2 o ’c lo c k . L e c tu re s a t 3 a n d 7 1 - 2 p .m . C irc le s e v e ry e v e n in g .

MEDIUMS IN BOSTON.J . Y . M A N S F I E L D , M e d iu m fo r a n s w e r in g S e a le d L e t te r s . H o . 8 W in t e r a t - 1___

to n (o v e r G . T u r n b u l l & C o-’s d r y g o o d s s to re ) . T u r n s — M r. B I. c h a n c e s a fe e i r f *1 a n d fo u r p o s ta g e s ta m p s fo r h i s e ffo r ts to o b ta in a n a n s w e r . F o r $ 3 h e w il l r a m r a n tM a n a n s w e r , o r r e t u r n b o th l e t t e r a n d m o n e y In t k i r t v davs fro m , i t i t t Zi to r s re c e iv e d o n M o n d a y s , W e d n e s d a y s a n d S a t u r d a y s . j g

M rs . M A R Y A . R I C K E R , T r a n c e M e d iu m , R o o m s , 1 4 5 H a n o r e r 8U B tw to n . n n ~

“ . " c ^ a t o 6 P M '

M rs . A . W . D E L A F O L I E , th e I n d e p e n d e n t C la i r v o y a n t , E l e c t r o p a th i s t a n d M e ­d iu m , h a s ro o m s a t 11 L a g r a n g e P l a c e , w h e re s h e w il l b e h a p p y to re c e iv e U m m d e Xr m g h e r s e rv ic e s . w w i

M rs . B E A N , W r i t in g a n d T e s t M e d iu m . C irc le s o n T u e s d a y a n d F r i d a r m n in g s , for d e v e lo p m e n t a n d m a n i f e s ta t io n s . N o . 3 0 E U o t s t r e e t .

U c a .'in g b y la y in g o u o f h a n d s , a n d l l b a V i r n .M A N , T r a n c e a n d T e s t M e d iu m , 9 8u H b lk P l a c e . B o o n , S a ! M l o t ? m ' T e r m s 5 0 c e n ts p e r s i t t i n g .

M is s R . T . A M E D Y 3 2 A U en s t r e e t , B o s to n , T r a n c e S p e a k in g M e d iu m , » n j —c a l l s fo r s p e a k in g o n ___d r e s s h e r a t 3 2 A lle n s t r e e t , B o s to n . a n y o w e r u m e t n e M e n d s m a y

. C S h e w i l l a ls o a t t e n d f u n e r a ls .

- H o K ^ t a S S ^ r ’ No• 2CohImbu,toet(t»?-•

£ i l ^ r BiTe h e r & tte n tio n c la i r v o y a n t m a M j____________ ____________ U - t f .

N o n e s . P e r s o n s V is it in g B o s to n fo r a few d a y s o r lo n g e r , a n d p r e f e r r i n g a p r i v a t e h o u s e to a p u b l ic h o te l , c a n f ln d g o o d a c c o m m o d a t io n s a t N o . 6 H a y v a r d P t w e , t h e jn o s t c e n t r a l a n d d e s i r a b le p a r t o f t h o c i t y .

Page 4: DEVOTED TO RATIONAL SPIRITUALISM ATSTD PEA OTTO A T i …€¦ · wealthy lady of one of the fairest Earldoms in Eugland, had oome by her death. True there was little or no cause

T H E S P I R 1 T “C T A . X j A . O r B .

Interesting Ipstelkng.A CUEIOtTS HTCEDENT.

A gentleman o f fortune and station, in Ireland, was one day walking along the road, when he met a very old man, appa­rently a peasant, though well dressed, and looking as i f he had on hiB Sunday habiliments. His great age attracted the gentleman’s attention the more, that he could not help won­dering at the alertness o f his movements, and the ease with which, he was ascending the hill. He consequently accosted him, inquiring his name and residence; and was answered ihat his name was Kirkpatrick, and that he lived at a cottage, whieh he pointed ou t Whereupon the gentleman expressed

' his surprise that he should be unknown to him, since he fancied he had been acquainted with every man on his estate. “ It is odd you have never seen me before,” returned the old man, “ for I walk here every day.”

“ How old are you ?” asked the gentleman.“ I »ni one hundred and five,” answered the other; “ and

have been here all my life.”After a few more words, they parted; and the gentleman,

proceeding toward some laborers in a neighboring field, in­quired i f they knew an old man by the name of Kirkpatrick.

"They did not; but on addressing the question to some older tenants, they said, “ Oh, y e s t h e y had known him, and had been at his funeral; he had lived at the cottage on the hill, but had been dead twenty years.

“ How old wcs he when he died?” inquired the gentleman much amazed.

“ He was eighty-five,” said they : so that the old man gave the age that he would have reached had he survived to the pe­riod of this rencontre.

ThiB curious incident is furnished by the gentleman himself, and all he can say is, that, it certainly occurred, and that he is quite unable to explain it. He was in perfect health at the time, and had never heard of this man in his life, who had been dead several years before the estate came into his possession.— The Night Side o f Nature.

■ The Prisoner’s Experience.The following passage is from Count Gonfalniere’s story of

his imprisonment:— “ Fifteen years I existed in a dungeon ten feet square! During six years I had a companion ; during nine I waa alone! I never could rightly distinguish the face of him who shared my captivity in the eternal twilight of our cell. The first year we talked incessantly together ; we related our past lives, our joys forever gone, over and over again. The next year we communicated to each other our thoughts and ideas an all subjects. The third year we had no ideas to com­municate; we were beginning to lose the power of reflection. The fourth, at the interval of a month or so, we would open our lips to ask eaoh other if it were possible that the world went on as gay and bustling as when we formed a portion of mankind. The fifth we were silent, the sixth he was taken w ay — I never knew where, to execution or liberty. But I waa glad when he was gone; even solitude was better than the pale, vacant face. One day (it must have been a year or two after my companion left me) the dungeon door was opened, and whence proceeding I knew not, the following words were ut­tered:

“ ‘ B y order of His Imperial Majesty, I intimate to you that your wife died a year ago.’

“ Then the door was shut, and I heard no more; they had but flung this great agony upon me and left me alone with it.”

A Mass Fit for a Pope.A t the convent o f St. Laurent, about a mile out of Rome,

there is a privileged altar— that is to say, every mass said at this altar has the privilege of drawing one soul completely out of purgatory. I t consequently enjoys a great reputation, and is much sought after by the faithful. One day the abbot found his convent six thousand masses in arrears— that is, he had received payment for bit thousand masses at a crown each more than had been said. He repaired to his holiness Greg­ory X V I., and begged him, since he was omnipotent, to grant that a single mass should draw the whole six thousand souls out o f purgatory. The pope considered awhile, then wrote a rescript to the desired effect. The abbott embraced the feet o f holy father, expressed his gratitude, and„ was about to retire, when Gregory X V I. called him back, saying—“ A mass of six thousand crowns ; such a mass is fit for a pope ; I will say it myself;” and, in verity the following morning he repaired to the convent of St. Laurent, performed the mass, and the abbot had to hand him over the six thousand piastres, equal to about six thousand dollars.

A sick man, slightly convalescing, recently in conversation with a pious f r i e n d ' congratulating him upon his recovery, and asking him who his physician was, replied, “ Dr. Jones brought me through.”

“ No, no,” said his friend, “ God brought you out of your illness ; not the doctor.”

“ Well may be he did, but I am certain the doctor will charge me for it.” •

jcctrg Sentiment

Jfor ijje Jfamilj.

The Labeled Reformer.H e labeled refomer can be found otherwhere than at anti-

Blavery anniversaries. W e meet him in the street, and in so­ciety sometimes, where he may be recognized not only by the peculiar out of his coat, and the peculiar look in his eye, but by the acerbity of his tones, and the venom of his words when he speaks of church, state, or individuals. He is on very bad terms with the universe, and he believes it to be his especial mission to set it to rights. Nothing suits him except his own great theory of reform. A s a theorist he is expansive, benev­olent, philanthropic, perhaps,— as an individual, he is nar­row, dogmatic, self-conceited, selfish and wild, for certain. In the establishment o f his system of reform he sees the only sal­vation of the race. I f they reject his theory, they may be damned for all he cares. He can build up philanthropic plans on a universal scale, whioh may redound greatly to his glory; but the little and obscure ways of doing good,— by making lifea blessing to the wayfarers whom he meets in his daily path,__is altogether too small business for him. B ut he is always talking o f benevolence, philanthropy, liberty,— these being the amiable names which he gives to his own all devouring ego­tism.

Summary o f the Parsee Beligion.The whole foundation o f the Sacred or Religious works of

the Parseea is built upon three significant terms, v iz : Homute, Hooihte, and Vuruste, which mean p u r ity o f speech, purity of action, and pu rity o f thought. This is the moral o f the Parsee religion, and on it the whole structure o f the Zend Aves- ta ia raised. The first point of the Parsee religion is to recog­nize and adbre Ormuzd, the master of all that is good, and the prinoiple of all righteousness ; and the second, to deteat Ahri- man, the author of all moral and physical evil. The charge brought against the Parsees, that they worship the sun, water and air, is not true; and they themselves repel the charge With indignation. They worship before fire, con8iderinR lieht as the purest emblem of the Deity, and they therefore do not xeally deserve the title o f “ fire-worshippers;” but the Par­ses, in accordance with this idea, is directed *to turn his head toward the fire or the sun, as the most proper symbol of the Deity. Therefore the Parsees are not idolaters; they are pure monotheists, worshipping one God.

. Solomon’s Judgment.Some time since, one of your correspondents desired to know

a parallel to Solomon’s judgment. One occurs in Gesta Ro- manormn. Three youths, to deoide a question, are desired by their referee, the King o f Jerusalem, to shoot at their father’s dead body. Only one refuses, and to him as the rightful heir, the legacy is awarded.

In Harleian is a similar story, told as occurring in the kingdom, o f P eg u ; one woman’s child was carried away by an alligator; she and another woman claim the child; they are desired to pull for i t ; the infant cries, and one instantly quits her hold, and the judge awards the child to her.

The former incident was frequently quoted in the pulpit. ThelSmperor Claudius, when a woman refused to own her son, ordered them to be married. The mother confessed her child at onee. Probably this is the inoident for which the inquiry Was made.— Notes and Queries.

THE GAEDBHEB’S DAUGHTER.You have all, doubtless, heard of Frederick the Second, of

Prussia. He is known among the people of that country a s

our “ old Fritz,” and his statue on h o r s e D a c k , stands a t the entrance of the noble Linden Avenue, in Berlin. Frederick had a wife, Queen Elizabeth Christina, o f whom the following anecdote is related :

On a beautiful summer’s day, as the queen was pacing up and down the beautiful walks in her palace garden, enjoying the perfumed air, and from time to time pausing to look at the lovely flowers, or listen to the singing birds, she saw upon the grass a little child, playing with the long stalks and clover heads. This was the daughter of one of the gardeners, a little girl about five years old.

The queen approached the child silently, watched her play a few moments, and finally spoke to her. The child replied modestly, but fearlessly, to all the questions asked her. She was, besides, a very lovely-looking little girl. The queen was so much pleased with her that the very next day she sent one of her ladies to bring her to the palace.

The parents were quite astonished; but they dressed the child in her Sunday clothes, and gave her into the charge of the queen’s waiting-maid.

. When the little girl reached the palace the queen was just about sitting down to dinner. She, however, gave orders that

; the child should at once be brought to her. Stroking her fresh, rosy cheeks, she had her placed upon a chair by her side, whence she could overlook the whole of the glittering and abundantly laden table.

The kind, good-hearted queen wanted to hear what the child would say when she saw tho costly gold and silver vessels, and all the other pretty things adorning the royal table. She en­joyed in anticipation the delight of the innocent girl, which she presumed would be displayed in ordinary childish fashion and joyful, wondering exclamations. But all turned out very differently from what she expected.

The little one sat a moment quite still and solemn. Then she cast her eyes over the glittering scene before her. But no cry of astonishment followed this survey. On the contrary, the child looked quietly down upon the table, folded her tiny hands, and, in tones sweet and childish, but loud enough to be heard throughout thc whole dining hall, recited a prayer with a simplicity and devotion that affected the whole party.

Surely the good old custom of asking a blessing at table must still have been practised in the pious gardener’s house, and this little verse had been the daily prayer o f the good little girl. A s the food was already placed upon the royal table, and all

, eyes were turned upon her, the child naturally thought they wished her to say the blessing, and devoutly repeated her touching prayer.

When sho had finished, no one spoke for some time. All present were greatly surprised. I t really seemed as if God himself, through these innccent lips, had spoken to this bril­liant assemblage of high-born lords and ladies.

One very old lady was the first to break the silence, saying:“ O ! the happy child! How much we may learn from h er!”

From that day she was richly provided for. The ladies and gentlemen present sent her from time to time valuable gifts, and the queen herself took pains to see that she received such an education that the good seed sown by her excellent parents ripened and brought forth most precious fruit.

A Miscalculation.Last Sabbath evening, a gentleman of this town had made

arrangements to spend the evening with a friend, but on going home, his wife insisted upon his accompanying her to church, and taking with them their child, a boy of three years. As a matter of course he went, but, was much dissatisfied with the ar­rangement, and while on the way was busy conceiving ways and means to dodge. A t last he hit it. During the first prayer he would pinch the boy— the boy would squall, then, as a matter of course, he would be obliged to take him home, and then he would be free the remainder of the evening. I t worked to a charm, with one trifling exception. He pinched vigorously, t e la bawled lustily, and his progenitor started out hastily, but unfortunately, juet as he was leaving the pew, the infant shrieked in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard half way across the church - M am m a! Papa is pinching me!” The look of commingled cuteness and satisfaction, on the face of the piuch- er changed in an instant to one of painful sheepishness as hesubsided into h i s seat and braced h i m s e l f fnr t u •uiaeii ior the com ing ser­mon.— B u c y r u s J o u r n a l . °

Y o u n g P h i l o s o p h y .— A little girl showing her little cousin (a boy about four years of age,) a star, said : ’

“ That star you see up there is bigger than this world.”Says he, “ no it ain’t.”“ Yes it is.”“ Then why don’t it keep the rain off?” said the little fel­

low.

THE BEFOBHEB.AI1 grim, and soiled, and brown with tan ,

I saw a Strong One, in his w rath,Smiting the godless shrines of man

Along his path.The Church beneath her trembling dome

Essayed in Tain her ghostly charm:Wealth shook within his gilded home

With strange alarm.Fraud from his secret chambers fled

Before the sunlight bursting in:Sloth drew her pillow o’er her head

To drown the din.“ Spare,” A rt implored, “ yon holy pile;

That grand, o il, time-worn turret spare;”M eek Reverence, kneeling in the aisle,

Cried out, “ Forbear.”Grey-bearded Use, who, deaf and blind, •

Groped for his old accustomed stone,Leaned on his staff, and wept, to find

His B eat o’erthrown. ,Young Romance raised his dreamy eyes,

O 'erhung with paly locks of gold:“ Why sm ite,” he asked in sad surprise.

“ The fair, the old 7”Yet louder rang the Strong One’s stroke,

Yet nearer flashed his axe’s gleam;— Shuddering and sick of heart I woke,

As from a dream.I looked: aside the dust-cloud rolled—

The Waster seemed the Builder too; Up-spinging from the ruined Old

I saw the New.'Twas but the ruin of the bad—

The wasting of the wrong and ill;W hate’er of good the old time had

Was living stilL •Calm grew the brow of him 1 feared;

The frown which awed me passed away,And left behind a smile which cheered

' Like breaking day.The grain grew green on battle-plains,

O’er swarded war-mounds grazed the oow;The Blave stood forging from his chains

The spade and plow.

Where frowned the fort, pavilions gay,And cottage windows, flower-entwined.

Looked out upon the peaceful bay And hills behihd.

Throngh vine-wreathed cups, with w’ne once red, The lights on b r i m m i D g crystal fell.

Drawn, sparkling, from the rivulet head And mossy well. *

Through prison walls, like Heaven-sent hope, Fresh breezes blew, and sunbeams strayed,

A nd with the idle gallows rope The young child played.

Where the doomed victim in his cell,Had counted o’er the weary hours,

Glad school-girls, answering to the bell,Came crowned with flowers.

Grown wiser for the lesson given,I fear no longer,— for I know

That, where the share is deepest driven,The best fruits grow.

The outworn rite , the old abuse,The pious fraud transparent grown,

The good held captive in the use O f wrong a lo D e —

These w ait their doom, from tha t great law Which makes the past time serve to-day;

A nd fresher life the world shall draw From their decay.

Oh! backward-looking son of time!Tbe new is old, the old is new,

The cycle of a change sublime Still sweeping through.

So wisely taught the Indian seer;Destroying Seva, forming Brahm,

Who wake by turns earth’s love and fear,Are one, th e same.

As idly as, in that old dayThou mournest, did thy sires repine,

S o , in h is tim e , th y ch ild , g ro w n g re y ,Shall sigh for thine.

Yet, not the less for them or thou The eternal step of Progress beats

To tha t great anthem, calm and slow,Which God repeats!

Take heart!—the W aster builds again—A charmed life old goodness hath ;

The tares may perish, but the grain Is not for death.

God works in a ll things; all obey H is first propulsion from the night:

Ho, wake and watch!—the world is greyW ith morning light! J O H N a. W H IT T IE B .

T H E G R A I N O F M U S K .

I dropped a single grain of musk A moment in my room;

When years rolled by, the ohamber.'still Retained the same perfume.

So every deed approved of T ru th , W here’er its lot be cast,

Leaves some good influence behind T hat shall forever last.

Our sorrows are like thunder-clouds which seem black in the distance, but grow lighter as they approach.

It is as easy to deceive ourselves without our perceiving it, as it is difficult to deceive others without their perceiving it.

Try to let everybody’s faults be forgotten, aa you would wish yours to be.

THE SPIRITUAL AGE:F O R 1 8 5 9 I

N o p a in s w i l l b e s p a re d to m a k e th e A g e in a l l r e s p e c ts a m o s t v a lu a b le fa m ily p a p e r . E v e r y e ffo r t w ill b e m a d e to a d d to th e h ig h r e p u ta t i o n w h ic h i t a l r e a d y e n ­jo y s aa a n e x p o n e n t o f S p i r i tu a l T r u th a n d a P io n e e r o f R e fo rm . I n a w o rd , i t i s th e d e s ig n o f t h e p u b l is h e rs to g iv e t h e i r p a t r o n s , in th e fu lle s t s e n se ,

A F I R S T C L A S S P A P E R !T h e M is c e lla n e o u s D e p a r tm e n t , w i th o u t p r e s e n t in g a n y o f th e t r a s h y “ s e n sa tio n ”

l i t e r a tu r e n o w so m u c h in v o g u e , w ill b e e n r ic h e d w ith s p ic y , s t i r r i n g a n d In s t ru c t iv e t a le s a n d s k e tc h e s f ro m th e m o s t p o p u la r s o u rc e s , o r ig in a l a n d se le c te d ; w i th a v a r i e ty o f c h o ic e m a t t e r d e s ig n e d to m e e t t h e w a n ts o f b o th th e h e a r t a n d m in d . G o o d t a s t e

a n d a h ig h m o ra l to n e w ill a lw a y s b e o b se rv e d .O n th e w h o le w e fu lly I n te n d to m a k e a j o u r n a l w h ic h e v e ry S p i r i tu a l is t w ill b e

p r o u d to p u t In th e h a n d s o f s k e p tic o r b e lie v e r a n d s a y , “ T h e re is a n e x p o n e n t o f m y p r in c ip le s ! ”

T h e S p i r i t u a l A g e w i l l b e p u b l is h e d e v e ry S a tu r d a y , In a l a r g e a n d e le g a n fo lio s h e e t , a t $ 2 p e r a n n u m , tn v o r io & to t n a d v a n c e . O n e D o l la r w il l b e re c e iv e d fo r t l x m o n th s . T o c lu b s , f iv e c o p ie s fo r $ 8 ; t e n c o p ie s fo r $ 1 6 ; to B o s to n s u b s c r ib e r s , w h e n s e rv e d b y c a r r ie r , $ 2 .2 5 . S p e c im e n n u m b e r s fo rw a rd e d f r e e to a n y p a r t o f t h c w o r ld .

P r i n c i p a l O f f ic e o f P u b l i c a t i o n , N O . 14 B R O M F IE L D S T R E E T , B o b t o * .N e w Y o rk O ffice a t M u n s o n ’s B o o k - s to re , 5 G r e a t J o n e s s tr e e t .A d d r e s s S P I R I T U A L A G E , 1 4 B ro m fle ld B tree t B o s to n .

C l u b b i k o m r a o t h e r P e r i o d i c a l s . — W e w ill s e n d th e A a s t o d A t l a n t i c M o n t h -

i r J t * t l le A o * a n l* T r u e F l a g o r L i j e I l l u s t r a t e d fo r ( 3 .0 0 : th e A o i a n de r C u r e J o u r n a l o r P h r e n o l o g i c a l J o u r n a l , $ 2 .5 0 .

6 u ^ j lL ° ° PlCT ° f U l* A ° * *** p r o c m d o f S p i r i tu a l i s t B o o lu e O e n a n d H a w s m e a

g^btrtistmcnts.READINGS.

P e r s o n a s e n d in g m « a s m a l l p o r t io n o f t h e i r w r i t in g m a y h a v e a d e s c r ip t io n o f t b e i r lo o k s , c h a r a c te r , m e n ta l a n d p h y s ic a l c o n d it io n , w i th r i g h t b u s in e s s a n d c o n ju g a l a d a p ta t io n , a n d a l l s u c h m a t te r* a s r e q u i r e I n tu i t io n o r c la i rv o y a n t p e rc e p t io n . T e rm s f o r a fu l l r e a d in g , $ 3 ; r e a d in g o n a s in g le p o in t , $ 1 . B u s in e s s a p p lic a t io n s w ill b e re c e iv e d , a n d p e rs o n s a s s i s te d In m a k in g c h a n g e s a n d g e t t in g s i tu a t io n s . O ffice, 7 D a v is s t r e e t , B o s to n , w h e re I m a y b e to a n d o n S a t u r d a y s o f e a c h w e e k .

^ H . L . B O W K E R .

THE IBOQUOI8 SPBING8 HOUSE.S i tu a te d in H a r t l a n d , V t . : T w o s to r ie s h ig h , 8 4 fe e t in f ro n t , 2fi a n d 4 0 fe e t d e e p ,

lo c a te d o n th e c o u n ty r o a d ; tw o g o o d m in e r a l s p r in g s w i th s p r in g h o u s e a n d b a th h o u s e ; o n e o f s a id s p r in g s d isc o v e re d b y a m e d iu m , s e v e n fe e t u n d e r g r o u n d ; th *

s p r i n g s p r o v e v a lu a b le . T h e h o u s e w il l b e le a s e d o n v e ry lo w t e r m s to a n y p e rs o n w h o w ill k e e p t h e h o u se i n g o o d r e p u te . A p p ly to L a v t D a v i s ,

W in d s o r , V t . , o r H a r t l a n d F o u r C o m e rs .

P . S . A g o o d S p i r i tu a l is t fo r a t e n a n t w o u ld b e p r e f e r re d .

XHE EEFOEMEE’S HOME,C le v e la n d , O h io , i s r e a d y fo r th e a c c o m m o d a tio n o f t r a v e le r s f r ie n d ly to S p ir i tu a l is m ,

e tc . T h e p r o p r ie to r s b e in g a ls o p u b l is h e rs o f th e V a n g u a r d a n d G e m , a l l th e s p ir i t ­u a l a n d re fo rm p a p e r s w il l b e a t t h e se rv ic e o f g u e s t s . I t i s c e n tr a l l y lo c a te d w i th in t h r e e m in u te s* w a lk o f t h e P o s t O ffice, T re m o n t H a l l , ( In w h ic h l a t t e r th e S p i r i tu a l is t s o f C le v e la n d h o ld r e g u la r m e e t in g s ,) a n d n o t f a r f ro m th e g e n e ra l r a i l r o a d d e p o t.

C k id g e , W a l k s b & C o . , P r o p r ie to r s , 1 0 9 L a k e S tre e t , C le v e la n d .

L I G H T B R E A D ,

WITHOUT YEAST OE POWDEBS.J E T H o w to m a k e l ig h t d e lic io u s B re a d w i th s im p le F lo u r a n d W a te r o n ly .

M e re ly y o u r a d d re s s a n d o n e d im e w ill e n s u re y o u b y r e t u r n o f m a i l a l i t t l e b o o k o n H e a l th f u l C o o k in g a n d H o w to M a k e L ig h t B r e a d w i th F lo u r a n d "W ater o n ly . P e r s o n s in te r e s te d a r e in v ite d to c a l l a n d se e t h is d e lic io u s b r e a d . T kupk& axo H o u s e , N o s . 18 a n d 20 L a g r a n g e p la c e , B o s to n .

PHILADELPHIA BOARDING.M . A H ek ck h a s o p e n e d a f in e l a r g e b o u s e fo r p e rm a n e n t a n d t r a n s ie n t b o a r d e r s

a t N o . 202 f r a n k l i n s t r e e t , o p p o s ite F r a n k l i n S q u a re — a b e a u t i fu l c e n tr a l lo c a t io n w i th th e c o m fo r ts o f h o m e . 2— t t .

FOUNTAIN HOUSE.A h o m e fo r S p i r i tu a l is t s , T e m p e ra n c e m e n a n d w o m e n , a n d fo r a l l o th e r s w h o U h

fo r q u ie t , o r d e r a n d c o m fo rt. T h is h o u s e is n o w u n d e r t h e m a n a g e m e n t o f t h e s u b ­s c r ib e r , w h o w il l a lw a y s b e a t h i s p o s t r e a d y to a t t e n d to t h e w a n t* o f th o s e w h o m a y fa v o r h im w i th a c a l l , a t th e c o rn e r o f H a r r is o n A v e n u e a n d B e a c h s t r e e t .

8 9 t f E . V . W IL S O N , M a n a g e r fo r t h e P r o p r ie to r s .

DECAYED TEETH PBESEBVED.D a . A v m B ro w s , 2 4 1 -2 W in te r s t r e e t (Ballou’s B u ild in g ) , b y a n e w a r t i c le c f

G o ld F ill in g , i s p r e p a r e d to r e s to re t e e th , h o w e v e r b a d ly d e c a y e d o r b r o k e n , t o th e i r o r ig in a l s h a p e a n d s t r e n g th , a v o id in g in m o s t c a s e s t h e n e c e s s i ty o f re m o v a L T e e th e x t r a c te d b y E l e c t r i c i t y w i th o u t e x t r a c h a rg e . 8— t f

THE SPIBITUAL BE0I8TEB FOB 1B59.P r ic e 1 0 c e n ts , is j u s t p u b l is h e d a n d fo r s a le b y B E L A M A R S H , 1 4 B ro m fle ld

s t r e e t , B o s to n . 6— t f

A. B. CHILD, M. D.t DENTIST,N O . 1 5 T R E M O N T S T R E E T , B O S T O N , M A S S .

SUFFOLK DYE HOUSE,C O R N K B 0 1 C O U R T A N D H O W A R D S T R E E T S , B O S T O N .

UJcbital Carbs.HBS. C. L. NEWTON, HEALING MEDIUM,

R e m o v e s c h ro n ic a n d a c u te d ise a s e s b y the. l a y in g o n o f h a n d s . T e rm s r e a s o n a b le . O ffice N o . 26 W e s t D e d h a m s t r e e t , 2 d o o rs f ro m W a s h in g to n s t r e e t , B o s to n . 20

P. CURTIS AND J. BENTLY, CLAIBVOYANT PHYSICIANS, w ill a n s w e r c a l ls f ro m th e c i t i z e n s o f U t i c a ; aL*o r e c e iv e p a t i e n t s s t t h e i r re s id e n ce w h e re t h e y m a y re c e iv e t r e a tm e n t , k in d a t t e n tio n , w h o leso m e b o a rd , e tc . , o n r e a s o n a b le te r m s . A d d r e s s C u b t is & B e x t l t , N o . 15 W e s t S t re e t . U t ic a , N . Y . 20

B. 0 . & G. C. WILSON,W H O L E S A L E B O T A N IC D R U G G IS T S , N o s . 18 & 2 0 C e n t r a l s t . , 7 d o o rs f ro m K il­

b y s t . , B o s to n , w h e re m a y b e fo u n d a la rg e s to c k o f B o t a n ic M e d i c i n e s , e m b ra c in g e v e ry v a r i e ty o f M e d ic in a l R o o ts , H e rb s , B a r k s . S e e d s , L e a v e s , F lo w e r s , G u m s , R e s ­in s , O ils , S o lid a n d F lu id E x t r a c t s , C o n c e n tra te d P r e p a r a t io n s ; to g e th e r w i th a fu.li a s s o r tm e n t o f

A L L O T H E R K I N D S O T M E D I C I N E S ,A p o th e c a r ie s ’ G la s s W a re , S y r in g e s , M e d ic a l B o o k s ; L iq u o rs o f t h e b e s t q u a l i ty ,

fo r m e d ic in a l p u r p o s e s ; a n d a g i e a t v a r ie ty o f M is c t l le n e a u s A r t ic le s , in c lu d in g a l ­m o s t e v e r y t h in g w a n t e d b y t h e A p o t h e c a r y o r P h y s i c i a n . .

O rd e r s b y m a i l o r o th e r w is e , p r o m p t ly fiQ ed a n d fo rw a rd e d to a n y p a r t o f t h e c o u n tr y . 1 8 — y .

SINCE THE BEMABKABLE TEST .a t t h e s i t t i n g o f a c irc le a s h o r t t im e s in c e , w h e re D r . C h a r le s M a in w a s p r e s e n t a n d in q u ir e d o f t h e s p i r i t in te l lig e n c e w h a t m e d ic in e s h o u ld b e u s e d in a c e r t a in c a se , a n d a r e p ly w a s g iv e n to u s e D r . C h e e v e r ’s “ L ife R o o t M u c ila g e !” F iv e c a se s h a v e oc c u r r e d w h e re in d iv id u a ls h a v e c a lle d a n d rep o x te d th e p re s c r ip t io n a s b e in g g iv e n b y m e d iu m s .

T h is in v a lu a b le m c d ic in e h a s lo n g b e e n u s e d a s a n in fa l lib le r e m e d y fo r C o n s u m p ­t io n , S c ro fu la , S a lt R h e u m . E r y s ip e la s , C o u g h , D is e a s e o f t h e L iv e r , D y s p e p s ia , C a n ­k e r , M e rc u r ia l D is e a s e , P i le s a n d a l l g ro s s a c r id h u m o rs .

A l e t t e r e n c lo s in g o n e d o l la r w ill p r o c u r e a b o t t l e ; o r f iv e d o lla r s for s ix b o ttle s . W il l b e s e n t to a n y p a r t o f t h e U n io n . A l l o rd e r s d i re c te d to D r . J . C h e e v e r , N o . 1 T r e m o n t T e m p le , B o s to n , M a ss . 18 .

BICE’S SPIRIT MEDICINES.P u r t f y i p g S y r u p % P r ic e $ 1 ,0 0 p e r b o t tle . N e r v e S o o t h in g E l i x i r , P r ic e 50 cen t*

p e r b o t t le . H e a l i n g O in t m e n t , P r ic e 2 5 c e n ts p e r b o x . P u l m o n a r y S y r u p , Pric< 5 0 c e n t p e r b o t t le .

T h e s e M e d ic in e s h a v e a l l b e e n t e s te d a n d c a n b e re l ie d u p o n ; t h e y c o n ta in n o p o i­s o n . T h e y a r e a l l p r e p a r e d f r o m s p i r i t d ir e c t io n s b y W illia m E . Rick. F o r s a le b y B E L A M A R S H , 1 4 B ro m fle ld s t r e e t , B o s to n .

GEOEGE ATKINS,. CLAIBVOYANT PHYSICIANA s d H e a lin g Medium, h a v in g r e tu r n e d to B o s to n , h a s o p e n e d a n office a t N o . 7 E l io t s t r e e t , w h e re h e w ill r e c e iv e a l l w h o m a y d e s ir e h i s s e rv ic e s . H e w ill re c e iv e c a lls to le c tu re o n th e S a b b a th . 16

I WAS CUEED OF SICK HEADACHE,W hich h a d a ff l ic te d m e a t in te r v a ls o f tw o w e e k s o r le s s , fo r n e a r ly t h i r t y y e a r s , b y using th e C o m p o u n d S a r s a p a r i l l a S y r u p , p r e p a r e d w i th o u t a lc o h o l, b y B . 0 . k C . G W ilso n , W h o le s a le B o ta n ic D r u g g is ts , 18 a n d 20 C e n t r a l S t . , B o s to n .

15— 3 m H i &a k P . W h it e h o u s e , a t B a r r e t t ’s D y e H o u s e , M a id e n .

, THE PBEMATUBE DECAY OF YOUTHJ U S T P U B L I S H E D B Y D R . S T O N E , P h y s ic ia n o th e T ro y L u n g a n d H y g ie n e

I n s t i t u t e , a T r e a t i s e o n t h e E a r ly D e c a y o f A m e r ic a n Y o u th ; t h e v ic e o f S e lf-A b u se a n d i t s d ire fu l c o n s e q u e n c e s ; S e m in a l W e a k n e s s , a n d o t t e r D is e a s e s o f t h e S e x u a l O rg a n s in b o th M a le a n d F e m a le .

T h e a b o v e w o rk , c o n ta in in g th e m o s t t n r i l l in g In c id e n ts in t h e p r a c t ic e o f t h e au­th o r , h a s re c e iv e d th e h ig h e s t c o m m e n d a tio n f ro m th e le a d in g p a p e r s o f th e U n io n , a s o n e o f t h e m o s t a b le e v e r p u b l is h e d o n th e s u b je c t o f s u c h v i ta l in te r e s t . I t w ill be s e n t b y m a i l in a s e a le d e n v e lo p e to a n y p o r t o f th e c o u n tr y , f re e o f c h a rg e , o n r e c e ip t o f tw o s ta m p s fo r p o s ta g e .

A d d r e s s D R . A N D R E W S T O N E ,P h y s ic ia n to t h e T r o y L u n g a n d H y g ie n ic I n s t i t u t e , a n d P h y s ic ia n fo r D ise ase s

t h e H e a r t , T h r o a t a n d L u n g s , 96 F i f th s t r e e t , T ro y , N . Y.

Jparsjfs Jbhertisnnrats.

AN ASYLUM FOB THE AFFLICTED.H E A L I N G b y la y in g o n o f h a n d s . C H A R L E S M A I N , H e a l in g M e d iu m , h a a

o p e n e d a n A s y lu m fo r th e A ff lic te d a t N o . 7 D a v i s s t r e e t , B o s to n , w h e re h e is p r e p a r e d to a c c o m m o d a te p a t i e n t s d e s ir in g t r e a tm e n t b y th e a b o v e p ro c e s s o n m o d e ra te te r m s .

O * P a t ie n ts d e s ir in g b o a rd s h o u ld g iv e n o tic e In a d v a n c e , t h a t s u i ta b le a r r a n g e ­m e n ts m a y b e m a d e b e fo re t h e i r a r r iv a l .

T h o se s e n d in g lo c k s o f h a i r to in d ic a te t h e i r d is e a s e s , s h o u ld e n c lo se $ 1 fo r th e e x a m in a tio n , w i th a l e t t e r s ta m p t o p r e p a y t h e i r p o s ta g e . A lso , s ta t e le a d in g syxnp to m s , a g e a n d s e x .

O ffice h o u r s f ro m 0 to 1 2 A . M.« a n d f ro m 2 to 5 P . M .

W. H. NUTTER,T ra n c e , H e a U n g a n d D e v e lo p in g M e d iu m , 1 0 5 P l e a s a n t s t r e e t , B o s to n . A ll c u ra b le

d is e a s e s , s u c h a s d r o p s y , l iv e r , h e a r t , s p in a l , a n d v a r io u s o th e r d is e a s e s , su c ce ss fu lly t r e a te d b y th e l a y in g o n o f h a n d s . C h a rg e s m o d e ra te . O ffice h o u r s f ro m 9 A M to 6 P M . 1 2 —3 m

THE HABMONIAL MAGNETS;F o r t h e c u re o f d ise a s e o f th e T h r o a t , L u n g s a n d v is c e ra l o rg a n s , u p o n n e w a n d

sc ie n tif ic p r in c ip le s ; b y H um phrey T . P a c k e r , M . D ., H a r m o n ia l P h y s ic ia n o f fif­

te e n y e a r s ’ p r a c t ic e . 'C a ll a n d se e th e m a t h i s office i n W o o d ’s B lo c k , n e a r ly o p p o s ite t h e I r v i n g H o u s e

C a m b r id g e p o r t , fro m 10 o’c lo c k , A . M ., t i l l 4 , a n d f ro m 6 t i l l 9 P . M .N . B . T h e D r . h a s n o w b u t o n e office, w h e re h e m a y b e fo u n d , a s a b o v e . 45— t f

THEODOBE PARKER* 8 BBCEftT PtTBLICATiOM,A S e r m o n f o r t h e N e w Y e a r ; W h a t B e l lc io c m a y d o f o r a M a n ; t o v h i c k t e

a d d e d S i r . P a r k e r ’s F a r e w e ll L e t t e r to U s S o c ie ty . P r ic e • .P a r k e r ' s T w o S e r m o n s o n R e v i v a l s ; a n d o n e o n fa te e 1

8 c e n ts e a c h . *P a r k e r ’s F o u r S e rm o n s p r e a c h e d In th e y e a r l y M e e t in g o f ]

L o n g w o o d , P a . , M a y 8 0 th a n d S l a t . 1 8 5 8 . P r ic e 1 7 c e n ts ; a b e fata sp n rrfc i b B m i d a t t h e N e w E n g la n d A n t i -S la v e ry C o n v e n t io n i n B o s to n , M a y 2 ft, 18&S} < t io n o f S la v e ry -to a R e p u b l ic a n F o rm o f G o v e rn m e n ts ax S e rm o n , o n th e e ffe c t o f S la v e ry o n t h e A m e r ic a n P e o p le - P r io e 8 c e n ts e a e k , m o n o f I m m o r t a l L ife , F i f th E d i t io n , 1 0 c e n ts . F o r s a le b y B e U T * '1 4 B ro m fie ld S tre e t .

THE GBEAT HABMOHIA, (BT A. J. DAVIS.) I * 4 Y O U .Z 0!- ? H E P H Y S IC T A N , p r io e $ 1 . Y oL l i t . — T H K 8 K K X . p t e t LT o l . I I . — T H E T E A C H E R , •• $ 1 . T o l . I T __ t h i s m t g i m M C T » ^T h e p u b l is h e r h a s r e c e n t ly i* ra e d tb e F i f t h E d i t io n o f t h c iLbcrre p o p o X r n k s w t

U r . D a r ia , a n d ia r e a d y to s u p p ly a l l o r d e r s p r o m p t ly e i t h e r a t w M e s a l . a r M a i .

A d d r e s s B E L A M A B S H , 1 4 B n n M f t . l M a ,B . U . h a s a lso p u b l i s h 'd n e w e d it io n s o f t h e fo llo w in g e x c e l le n t w e e k s a t M r . p ,

r i s , v iz :—

T h e P h i l o s o p h y o f S p e c i a l P r o v id e n c e s — A V i s i o n , - P r ic e IAT h e H a r m o n i a l M a n ; o r . T h o u g h t s f b r t k e A g e , - _ _F r e e T h o u g h t s c o n c e r n i n g R e l i g i o n , - _ _ _ ^ - ,

T h e P e n e t r a l i a ! b e in g H a r m o n la l A n sw e r* to I m p o r t a n t Q o e s tw o a , $ 1 M T h e H i s t o r y a n d P h i l o s p h y o j E v i l , - - - 3 0 >-*«A l ib e r a l d is c o u n t w ill b e m a d e w h e n t a k e n i n q u a n t i t ie s .

AHTHEOPOMOSPHI8M DISSECTED A S S B M B H U A llSH DICATED, BT DIXOH L. DAVIS, X . 9 .

W h e n m a n is t a u g h t t h a t h i s s p i r i tn a l is , a s h i s p h y s ic a l n a tu r e , ^l a w s th e n s u p e r s t i t io n w il l d ie , a n d a r a t i o n a l s y s te m o f m e n ta l p U k a o p fc y f m a B t e s te a d . P r io e in p a p e r e o re r s , 3 5 c e n ts ; i n d o t h 5 0 c e n ts .

FEEE LOVE AND AFKHITT.A D is c o u rs e d e l i r e r e d u n d e r s p ir i t - in f lu e n c e , b y M is s D o t e n ,a t t h e l M o d n a

B o s to n , S u n d a y e v e n in g , M a rc h 2 0 ,1 8 5 9 . P h o n o g r a p h jc a l ly r r p o r te d b y Jmmem U -

W . Y e r r in to n . P r ic e 8 c e n u e a c h , o r $ 5 p e r h u n d r e d . T h is d is c o u r s e < g o o d a d r i c e , a n d w a s l is te n e d t o w i th T e ry g e n e ra l R r r .M ■P u b l is h e r , 14 B ro m fie ld s t r e e t , B o s to n .

A HEW SPIRITUAL BOOK!T W JC L T E M E S S A G E S F R O M T H E S P I R I T J O H N Q U I N C T i i > i w

T h r o u g h J o s e p h D . S tile s , M e d iu m , to J o e ia h B r ig h a m . 4 M p a g e s 8 r c k P z i c e $ U # J u s t p u b l is h e d a n d fb r sa le 't^ y B E L A M A R S H , 1 4 B ro m fle ld S t . ' • —t f

J U S T P U B L I S H E D .ANOTHER IMPOBTAHT BOOK BT A. 3. SA T IS !

T h e s u b s c r ib e r h a a j u s t i s s u e d a n e w w o rk , w r i t t e n a Tew w e e k s b y M r . M I n p r e p a r in g h is m a t t e r fo r t h e P h i la n th ro p ic C o n v e n tio n a t U t i c a , b e w ro te o e t a e r e r a l s u g g e s t iv e id e a s r e s p e c tin g tb e C a u s e a n d C u r e o f X v il , e r b o w t o * e e v il w i th g o o d ,” w h ic h w a s t h e g r e a t q u e s t io n b e fo re t h a t m e s n o n b t h in k e r s a n d p h i la n th ro p is ts . T h is n e w p ro d u c tio n is e n t i t le d .

THE HISTOBT AND PHILOSOPHY. OF EVIL;W I T H S U O a K S T I O H S 7 0 S K O I I I X 5 0 B L I 1 I I I I T l T C T I O I l A S 9

P H IL O S O P H I C A L S Y S T E M S O F E D U C A T IO N .

S in g le c o p ie s a t r e t a i l , 3 0 c e n ts ; b o u n d in c lo th , 50 c e n ta . O n r e c e ip t o f r r t r * . t h a b o o k w ill b e s e n t b y m a i l , p o s ta g e f re e . Q u a n t i t ie s a t w h o le s a le , w i th r ta a c n a b f t t d i s c o u n t , s e n t p e r o r d e r to a l l p a r t s o f t h e U n io n .

A d d re s s th e P u b l is h e r , B E L A M A R S H , N o . 1 4 T lro rafl»vi f t r — ♦ 4 1 — !■

R tO IHE NET C. WEIGHT’S BOOKS.

M a r r i a g e a n d P a r e n t a g e ; o r , th e R e p ro d u c tiv e i n u a iE le v a t io n a n d H a p p in e s s . P r ic e $ 1 .

T h e U n w e lc o m e C h i l d ; o r , t h e C r im e o f a n TT i^g« ign#d P r ic e in c lo th , 4 5 c e n ts ; in p a p e r c o v e rs , SO c e n ts .

A K i s s f o r a B l o w ; o r , a C o lle c tio n o f S to n e s fo r C h i ld r e n , s h o w in g t k a k o v t o p r e v e n t q u a r r e l in g . P r ic e 3 8 c e n ts ; i l lu s t r a te d e d it io n , 0 2 c e n ta .

T h e E r r o r 9 o f th e B i b l e D e m o n s t r a t e d b y th e T r u t h s o f IT m t w r t ; c c t o n ly In fa l lib le R u le o f F a i th a n d P r a c t ic e . P r ic e i n c lo th , 3 8 c e n ts ; i n p a p v 4 2 5 c e n ts .

T h e a b o v e a r e fo r s a le , a t w h o le s a le o r r e t a i l , b y B E L A N o . 1 4s t r e e t , B o s to n .

THE PBOVTDENCES OP GOD IH HISTOBT.B y L . J u d d P a r d e e . P r ic e 1 0 c e n ts . J u s t p u b l is h e d fey — w ^

M A R S H N o 1 4 B ro m fie ld s t r e e t . ' (3

WOODMAN’S BEPLT TO DB. DWIGHT.A N e w E d i t i o n o f t h i s e x c e l le n t w o rk is j u s t p u b l is h e d . I t

r e v is e d a n d s te r e o ty p e d , in o r d e r to m e e t a n in c re a s e d la j u t a t t fc ip r tc e o f 2 0 c e n ts p e r c o p y . A l ib e r a l d i s c o u n t a t w h o le sa le .

B E L A M A R S H , p u b l is h e r , 1 4 B ro m fie ld s t r e e t , B o s to n . O — t f

PUBLIC OBAL DI8CU88I0H.S p i r i tu a l is m a n d th e O p p o s itio n , a t H a r t f o r d , b e tw e e n S . B . B r i t t a n , a n d D r . D * D ,

H a n s o n P r ic e 3 8 c e n ts . M rs . H a t c h ’s D is c o u rs e s o n B d ig io o , M ta m h , a n d M e ta p h y s ic s . P r ic e $ 1 .0 0 . T h e M is ta k e o f C h r is te a d o a a ; o r J e n a h toG o sp e l b e fo re P a u l a n d C h r i s t ia n i ty . P r ic e $ 1 . 00. J m t p n h n a h * ^ fay B E L A M A R S H , N o . 1 4 B ro m fie ld s t r e e t . IT —4 f

PROCEEDINGS OF THE FBEE COHVEHTIOH,H e ld a t R u t la n d , T t . , J u n e 2 5 th , - 2 6 th , 2 7 th , 1 8 5 * .

J u s t p u b l is h e d a n d fo r s a le b y B e la M a rs h , N o . 1 4 B ro m fie ld s t r e e t . P r l c t , t e p e r c o v e rs , 50 c e n ts ; In c lo th 67 e ta . T h e w o rk c o n ta in s D e b a te s c e m in e n t , M a rr ia g e , S p i r i tu a l is m , S la v e r y , W o m a n 's B ig h ts , F r e e T r a d e , fee .

KBS. KETTLEB’S XEDICIHE8.R e s t o r a t iv e S y r u p — P ric e $ 1 p e r b o t t l e . D y s e n t e r y C o r d im i— 5 0 cen t s .

50 c ts . N e u t r a l i s i n g M i x t u r e — 50 « e n ta . P u l m o n a r i a — $ 1 .H e a l i n g O in t m e n t — 2 5 c e n ts p e r b o x . T o r b y B R L A M A B S H , H e . 1 4 S n a a * f ie ld s t r e e t , B o s to n . 1 4 —t f

A. G. STILES, M. D., INDEPENDENT CLAIBVOYANT,O F F I C E , N O . 1 9 6 M A IN ST.-, B R ID G E P O R T , C T .

A t r u e d ia g n o s is o f th e d i s e a s e o f th e p e r s o n is g u a ra n te e d , o r n o fee w ill b e t a k e n C h ro n ic d ise a s e s s c ie n t if ic a l ly t r e a te d . S t r ic t a t t e n t io n g iv e n to d ise a s e s o f t h e E y e a n d E a r . C a n c e rs re m o v e d , a n d c u re w a r r a n t e d . T h e E le c t r o C h e m ic a l B a th s w ill b e a p p lie d w h e n n e c e s s a ry , fo r t h e r e m o v a l o f p o iso n o u s m in e r a ls fro m th e s y s te m .

P e rso n s f ro m a d i s ta n c e c a n b e a c c o m m o d a te d w i th g o o d b o a rd a t a r e a s o n a b le r a te , n e a r th e D o c to r 's o ffice . O ffice h o u r s f ro m 8 o 'c lo c k , A . M . to 6 P . M . N o p a t i e n ts re c e iv e d S u n d a y s . 46— tf

____ THE SICK ABE HEALEDW IT H O U T M E D I C I N E . J A M E S W . G R E E N W O O D , H e a l in g a n d D e v e lo p in g

M e d iu m , R o o m s N o . 1 5 T re m o n t s t r e e t , o p p o s ite t h e M u s e u m . O ffice h o u r s fro m 9 A . M . to 5 P . M . O th e r h o u r s h e w i l l v i s i t t h e s ic k a t t h e i r h o u s e s .

I n v e s t ig a to r s w ill f in d a T e s t, R a p p in g , W r i t in g a n d T r a a c e M e d iu m a t t h e a b o v e ro o m s .

DB. JOHN SCOTT, MAGNETIC PHTBICIAN,N O . 1 6 B O N D S T R E E T , N E W Y O R K .

D r . S . c u re s P i le s a n d C a n c e rs w i th o u t th e u s e o f t h e k n ife . (CT A H R h e u m a tic a n d C h ro n ic C o m p la in ts t r e a te d w i th c e r t a in ty . H o u r s f ro m 0 A M . to 5 P M . 47

SPIBITUAL, CLAIRVOYANT, AND KE8XEBIC PBESCEIPTIONSC A R E F U L L Y p r e p a r e d b y O C T A V IU S K I N G , B o ta n ic A p o th e c a r y , 654 W a s h

In g to n s t r e e t , u n d e r P in e S t r e e t C h u r c h , B o s to n .A U o f M rs . M e tt le r1* M e d ic in e s fo r s a le a s a b o v e .

S . UTmtsons ^bhrtisnntnls.HBS. KETTLEB’S XEDICIHEB.

A ll th e s e re m e d ie s a r e c o m p o u n d e d a c c o rd in g to M rs . M e t tk i^ s d h * e e t i« M ,g N * * h i le in a s t a t e o f C la ir v o y a n c e , axul a n p u r e ly v e g e ta b le , a n l p e t f c e t ty a a 9s o i v a l l c ir c u m s ta n c e s .

M r s . M e t t l e r ' s R e s t o r a t iv e S y r u p .— J o t a n im p u r e s t a t e c t t h e m e n t o f t h e S e c re t io n s , B ilio u s O b s tru c t io n s , U n e q u a l C ir c u la t io n ,H e a d a c h e , I n a c t iv i t y o f t h e L iv e i , C o n s t ip a t io n o f t h e B o w e ls , I r r i t a t k a t t \

c u o n a M e m b ra n e , e tc . P r ic e p e r b o t t l e , $ 1 .M r s M e t t l e r ' s D y s e n t e r y C o r d i a l . — A S t o m a c h a n d B o w e l C a r r s e t o r .

b o i tle , 50 c e n ts .M r s . M e t t l e r ' s C e le b r a t e d E l i x i r . — P e r C h o le ra , C o lic P a i n i , C ra m p a e t t k s

S to m a c h a n d B o w e ls , R h e u m a tic a n d N e u ra lg io P a in s , B i lio o a J e w a a AA g u e , a n d in te r n a l i n ju r ie s P r ic e p e r b o t t l e , 5 0 c e n ts . .

M r s M e t t l e r ' s N e u t r a l i z i n g M i x t u r e .— F o r B i lio u s O b s tru c t io n s , A c id i ty f l f t k l S to m a c h , D y s p e p s ia , C o n s t ip a t io n .o f th e B o w e ls , H e a d a c h e , a n d V ctarite ; o c c as io n e d b y co ld o r w o rm s. P r ic e p e r b o t t le , 5 0 c e n ta .

M r s . M e t t le r ' s P u l m o n a r i a .— F o r C o ld s , l x r i t a t io n o f t h e T b r o a t a i H e m o rrh a g e , A s th m a , C o n s u m p tio n , W h o o p in g C o u g h , a l l o f 1r a to r y O rg a n s , P r ic e p e r b o t tle , $ 1

M r s . M e t t l e r ' s H e a l i n g O i » f m e n l .— F o r B u r n s , F r e s h C u t s a a d W o a s t io f a lm o s t e v e ry d e s c r ip tio n , B o ils , S a l t R h e u m , B l is te r s , S w elled a n d 8o n B raaafea a r N ip p le s , G la n d u la r S w e llin g , P i le s , C h a p p e d H a n d s o r C h a f f in g . P r ic e p e r b o x , t t e e n ts .

M r s . M e t t le r ' s R e m a r k a b le a n d U n p r e c e d e n t e d L m m e i i f . — 7 c r l A M n a a a a a d W e a k n e s s o f s e v e ra l p a r t s o f th e h u m a n s y s te m , C o n tr a c te d H o t e k s a r t S h s tw a , R h e u m a tic , I n f la m m a to r y a n d N e u ra lg ic A ffe c tio n s , C a O o a s a n d M a t a » S f a ^ m o d ic C o n tra c t io n s , etc*, e tc . P r ic e p e r b o t t le , $ 1 . '

J a x k s M c C i x s r a , P r o p r i e to r .5— 8. T . M U N S O N A g e n t , 5 G r e a t J a o e s i t r t e t . N e w T a c k .

SPIBITUAL BOOKS AND PEBI0DICAL8.C E N T R A L D E P O T , N O . 5 G R E A T J O N E S S T R E E T , N E W T Q V .

O ffice o f tb e S p i r i tu a l A g e .S . T . M U N S O N & C o ., A g e n ts , s e c o n d d o o r E a s t o f B r o a d w a y , o p p o afc* t b a I * »

P a r g e , k e e p a l l th e R e fo rm P u b l ic a t io n s , to g e th e r w i th a s p le n d id a s r a t n e ^ e f 8| r t r f t u a l B o o k s , a l l p f w h ic h w il l b e s o ld a t t h e lo w e s t p u b l i s h e s p r ic e s f o r c a a ^ A H p e r ­so n s w h o w ish t o p u r c h a s e th e c la s s o f B o o k s m e n t io n e d , w il l f in d i t f o r t a g e to s e n d h e i r o rd e r s t o M u n s o n & C o ., w b o w i l l g iv e a t t e n t io n t o ftm a n d s o f t h e i r c u s to m e rs . S u b s c r ip t io n s re c e iv e d fo r aU

Spiritual and Eeform P apen and Serial PnM ieatUftS.B o o k s a n d o th e r m e rc h a n d is e o rd e re d a t o u r e s ta b l is h m e n t , n o t e x cep t in g

n e o u s a n d S ch o o l B o o k s , S ta t io n e ry , & c - ,w ill b e s e n t t h r o u g h t h e p o e t o A e e , b y tb f t

p r e s s , o r i n p r iv a t e h a n d s , a s m a y b e d i re c te d , w i th o u t d e la y , a n d a S p a p e r s a n d f a d o d ic a ls fo rw a rd e d a s so o n a s p u b l is h e d .

A ll S p i r i tu a l is t s a n d R e fo rm e rs w h o v i s i t N e w Y o r k , a r e r r q u e s t >d t o c a B , b a a e e f l a te ly o n t h e i r a r r i v a l , a t M u n s o n & C o .% fo r t h e p u r p o a e o f r e g i s t e r i n g t A r s r m m m m B y th i s m e a n s t h e y m a y b e c o m e k n o w n to t h e f r ie n d s i n t h i s d t y r a n d f tk aa tbeir I n te r e s ts a n d p le a s u r e m a y b e e s s e n t ia l ly p ro m o te d .

M e rc h a n ts a n d o th e r s f ro m d i f f e re n t p a r t s o f t b e c o u n tr y , w b o w a n t a n y o i A n S p i r i tu a l p a p e is , s h o u ld c a l l a t t h e o ffice o f T A e S p i r i t u a l A g e , a n d — b a e tf ta T k e lo c a t io n is c e n tr a l , a n d th e w h o le e s ta b l is h m e n t o n tb e f i r s t f lo o r , s o t h a t om r m t t t m e rs a r e n o t r e q u i r e d to a s c e n d a n y lo fty f l ig h ts to in a c c e s s ib le u p p e r ro o ass t e A n d

S . T . M U N S O N h C O ., A g e n ts , N o 6 G r e a t J o o e s t r e e t , H T .

K BS. HATDBH AT XUHSOH’S.T h e s u b s c r ib e r ia h a p p y to a n n o u n c e t b a t h e h a s c n ffM e d th e B t n l c u o f X a . W -

B . H a y d e n , o f B o s to n ,'th e c e le b ra te d c la i rv o y a n t a n d tea t-m e d io m . H e r * n m F w ill co m m e n c e o n W e d n e s d a y , t b e 1 9 th in s t ., a t tb e r o a n s t a t a p i r t t a a l ln r» «H g i l h « , N o* . 6 a n d 7 G r e a t J o n e a s t r e e t , a n d w ill c o n tin u e u n t i l f u r t h e r n o tic e - ' K im . ] is w id e ly a n d fa v o ra b ly k n o w n fo r b e r m e d iu m p o w ers- I t w a a t h r a o g b t t s m e n ta l i ty o f t h is l a d y , w h ile in E n g la n d , t h a t R o b e r t O w e n , s a d m e n , b e c a m e c o n v in c e d o t th e t r u t h o f s p i r i tu a l In te rc o u r s e . J i n . H . i t s k a c f c k r o y a n t fo r th e e x a m in a tio n o f d ise a s e , l n t h e e x e rc is e o t w h ic h g i f t d a s h a s b n a a d n e n tly tn c c e s s fa L H o u r s , f ro m 9 A M t o e P M , ev e r7 d a y ( S u n d a y s f i r e p i ed ) ,

i - t f . B . T . M U N S O N , fi J o n e s s t r e e t , H e w T c d c .

MEDIUMS W IL L BE IN ATTBHSAHCE COISTAXTLT.Say and evening, at Hcssox’s Kooxs. 8. T. M. haa tbe pkaan* «11

that he has engaged the services of scute o tbe best mrdlm— in tfea b o a rs wm b . from 10 o'clock, A. M. till 2, and from 3 tin I P. M. from 8 till 10. On Tuesday aad Thursday erenit^s tha circles w f i l ba yaMa. *

S ' B J T . * U N 8 0 N . l O r o a t J c s M s a t . B a v T s *