He gave me, while I was standing within two feet of the medium, the firm grip of a Master Mason; his hand was like that of a living human being; he whispered a few intelligible words, saying that we should have no fear if trouble came, that all would turn out for our ultimate good, and disappeared at my feet; then a tall, finely-formed young man with dark moustache came, beating his breast with his hand.  “You see, I am all here,” he said; “I am John Mansfield, formerly of New Jersey.  I was attracted to your house by the music.  I am guardian of your girls; I am going to try to help in your father and mother.”  He vanished; then returned, trying to bring the half-materialized but recognizable forms as he had promised; but they were weak, and seen but dimly.

Then came the clearly defined form of the children’s aunt, and the girls, who were somewhat timid, recognized her at once.  She kissed each one several times in rapid succession just as she used to do when she met them in the long ago; called them and my wife by name, and disappeared, apparently through the floor.  Then appeared Mary, my spirit-wife, and many others whom we could not recognize.

Little Blue Bell, one of the medium’s cabinet spirits, them came, pointing to the door, saying:  “See that little fat snoozer?” we looked around and saw the wondering eyes of our Bessie, who we supposed was “snoozing” in bed; she had come down in her night-dress.  Finally, Nellie, our hired girl, who, being a Catholic, had been warned by the priest never to countenance spiritualism, and had locked herself in her room, came into the parlor, wild-eyed and with her hair streaming over her shoulders, saying she was compelled to come in.  At once the form of a young Irish girl clad in peasant costume, with hair to her waist, appeared, and clasped Nellie in her arms; they talked a few minutes, and the form vanished in air.  Nellie told us that it was a schoolmate of hers who died in Ireland fifteen years before, that they had been great friends, and vied with each other in growing the longer hair.

These facts may seem incredible to those who have never received visitations from the other world; but we know that we saw and felt the forms of our spirit friends on that occasion, as surely as we know that we ever saw them when they were with us daily in the body on earth.

When alone that night, I “dropped into poetry,” and here is what my spirit-guided hand wrote, February 4th, 1895.

  Out of the darkness cometh a light,
    Out of the silence cometh a voice,
  The pathway of life grows suddenly bright,
    And as never before we all rejoice.

  The dearly beloved who have gone before
    Come back to bless from the beautiful shore;
  They speak to us words of lofty cheer,
    That banish the clouds of darksome fear.

  How sweet to know that there is no death,
    That the soul outlives the fleeting breath;
  That guardian angels surround us ever
    With a deathless love no power can sever.