CHAPTER XXXI. MISCELLANEOUS INCIDENTS (Continued). CROWD OF SPIRITS MADE VISIBLE BY LIGHTNING-SCARCELY CREDIBLE BUT TRUE-A GAME OF EUCHRE-MARGARET'S DREAMMISTAKEN NAMES CORRECTED BY SPIRITS-AN UNWILLING CONVERT MADE GRATEFUL AND HAPPY. CROWD OF SPIRITS MADE VISIBLE BY LIGHTNING. Soon the vivid light ONE Sunday evening, in Ludlow Place, occurred the grandest manifestations of Spirit presence I ever witnessed or heard of. Our good friend Dr. A. D. Wilson and his friend Dr. Kirby had come in the Doctor's carriage; and, as a great thunder-storm was gathering fast overhead, he ordered the carriage home, to return at nine o'clock, or when the storm should be over. We sat round the table in my private room on the second floor, four of us-the two gentlemen, mother, and myself. ning flashed and the near thunder rolled and rattled overhead while in the intervals the blackest of darkness was around us, the Spirits having directed us not to have lights. The "raps" bade us to sing: and, my mother leading, we sang the Methodist hymn: "I'm a pilgrim; I'm a stranger," etc. (my father and mother were Methodists). But as the peals and flashes came so mightily I was afraid, and thought it unseemly for us to sing in the presence of these grand manifestations of the lights and the voices of the heavens. Presently Dr. Wilson started up with the exclamation, "Oh my God! there's my mother," and we all saw a form in the doorway leading from our room to another in the rear. And then, to his friend Dr. Kirby, "And there's your mother with her arms around your neck!" And then again to my mother, "Oh, Mrs. Fox, there's your noble father by you!" And we all saw the Spirits. The whole room was crowded with a glorious company of Spirits! We would see them only by the flashes of the lightning. When the flash had vanished, all was blackness; but, on its return, there they were still, different forms and with. varying features; and they looked as natural as when in this-our life. What were our feelings? How could I express, or who will need that I should attempt to do so? We all responded deeply to Dr. Wilson's exclamation, "I Ι would not have missed this for all the world! Oh, who after such a sight could ever again commit a sin?" It would seem that while we had no Spiritual sight to see them clairvoyantly in the darkness, they could bear the electric brightness of the lightning which revealed them to our eyes. A deep awe rested on us all, and we all united in the following beautiful old Methodist hymn which my mother sang. Many a time afterward we have sat in the hope of a repetition of this glorious spectacle; and Dr. Wilson would come when there seemed some prospect of thunder and lightning. But it never came again. Perhaps there was something in the quiet solemnity of that Sabbath hour which prompted it to the Spirits; and once shown, it was enough for memory could not but keep it ever fresh in our minds, as it is and will forever remain in mine. What's this that steals, that stea's upon my frame, That soon will quench, will quench this vital frame, If this is death, I soon shall be From every pain and sorrow free, I shall the King of Glory see, All is well, all is well! Weep not, my friends, my friends, weep not for me, My sins are pardoned, pardoned, I am free, There's not a cloud that does arise, Tune, tune your harps, your harps, ye saints in glory, I will rehearse, rehearse the pleasing story, Bright angels are from glory come, They're round my bed, they're in my room, All is well, all is well! SCARCELY CREDIBLE, BUT TRUE. A strange adventure befell me, at the age of between eight and nine years, which has always left a vivid impres sion on my mind; and I cannot resist the prompting to insert here a short summary of it. I will leave my readers to judge of it for themselves. I had obtained grandmother's permission to visit some little girls at the house of their father, Mr. Cox; which was granted on condition that I should be sure to come home before nightfall. It was about a mile and a half distant from home by the main road, though less than a mile through the woods. Much of that part of the country was at that time uncultivated and abounded with wild beasts of every description of the period. I got safely to Mr. C.'s; and had a day so happy that it was only the threatening clouds of an approaching storm which warned me that it was high time to start for home. I set out by the roadway, but Mrs. Cox called me back and sent two of her daughters to escort me through the woods by the shorter paths, familiar to them on their way to school. We had gone about half the distance through the woods, when sharp lightning and heavy thunder announced that the storm was close at hand; and the children left me at a point from which, as they supposed, I could not miss my further way. They gave me directions how to proceed. I followed them, as I supposed; but the darkness soon became intense, and the storm burst in all its fury. The thunder and lightning were terrific, the rain fell in torrents, and I was a very little girl alone in the woods. I heard the distant cries of the inhabitants of the wilderness, and hurriedly pressed forward in the hope of following the right track, but constantly changing my idea of which direction to take. After long wanderings in this way, I fancied it to be about midnight, when the howling of the winds rose to be nearly that of a tornado, and the crashing of falling trees, torn up by the roots, seemed to surround me in all directions. I had been twenty times on my knees, in childish prayer to God to take me home; but perhaps God in heaven is too abstract an idea to be realized by a child of that age, and I would instinctively find myself addressing my greatgrandfather, who was the only person whose death I had ever witnessed. I had known him to be good and kind. He was a man of unusual stature and strength. Him I could understand to be in heaven, and powerful to save me. I remember I prayed with my eyes closed, fearing I should behold some terrible phantom, for in our family experience and tradition there had been many strange stories. I wandered all through that terrible night, and only rested on my knees, when praying to God and the angels (especially him, my grandfather) to protect me. Stormbeaten and drenched as I then was I sat down and cried bitterly. Suddenly my attention was arrested by an unusual sound, as of boughs breaking and twigs crackling. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw, standing high upon the trunk of a fallen tree, a large, good-natured looking dog, which I supposed to be Mr. Cox's dog, "Rover." Immediately fear left me. I felt him to be rescue and safety. I called to him, "Rover, Rover!" and tried to get near him, but he turned from me leading the way. I followed; he looking back frequently, as if to see whether or not I followed him. After wandering some time through zig-zag routes, he brought me to Deacon Demarest's place, which I recognized, as the house had recently been burned and I could not mistake it. At this point he loitered a moment, and came so near me that I reached out my hand to caress him, but could or did not touch him, although he pressed against me palpably several times. He "waggled himself" so like a dog, and seemed so kind to me that I became fondly attached to him. On I went, following him through cross-lots and over fences, startling the cattle to their feet, and causing a great jingling of cowbells, never looking back, but intently following the dog, fearing to lose sight of him for a moment, lest he should leave me. At last we came to my home. The house stood about a hundred feet from the road. There were two gates of entrance to the door-yard or grounds: one a foot-gate, the other for carriages, etc. I opened the small gate and held it open, supposing the dog would pass through it; but judge of my amazement to see him instead of doing so, scale the great gate with a bound and meet |