Sidor som bilder

us." I thought this an excellent opportunity for a test, and requested the name of the vessel. He apparently put the question, and replied, “the Archibald Gracia. Write and let me know." He was about to start on the Sacramento steamer, and the bell was ringing. I then returned to our place of business, and sent a clerk to the Telegraph Office, where he found reported a barque outside the Heads. That night the Archibald Gracia came in, and next morning I received a letter from Honolulu, releasing us from a 5,000 dollar note which my brother Frank had endorsed without my knowledge, and which had therefore greatly troubled him, the parties having become insolvent. The "good news" was, that the holders of the note had attached sufficient property to cover the debt, and liberate the endorsers. Dr. Fish, whom we had learnt to love for his kindness as much as if we had known him when on earth, seeing his patient's depression, had said, “Cheer up, old fellow; it will be all right" —whích little kindly act proves that death, as the "departure" is erroneously called, does not destroy the human sympathy even for our petty earthly troubles.

Another instance. I went home shortly after this occurrence (in 1853), and returned around the Horn, with my wife. After being out a few weeks, we heard the raps about the bulkheads of our state rooms. I told my wife their import, for she had never heard of Spiritualism before, and instructed her in the modus operandi of communicating through the alphabet, so that she finally looked upon the spirits as her guardians amidst the dangers of the seas, and frequently converse with her mother through the whole night, when rough weather precluded sleep. One night, off the Cape, she roused me out of the next cabin, where I slept, saying, “ You are wanted on deck. They have spelt out, • There is danger near, and no head on deck.'” Meaning by “no head," no captain on deck. I said, “What is the danger the raps spelt out ?" ship Sabine is near you.". I immediately hurried on deck-for I had been once run down at sea—and asked the mate if he had a good look-out forward, and persuaded him, by relating my desperate disaster in the ship I had commanded, to go forward and see if the watch were not asleep, which, he found they were. I remained on deck till nearly daylight without seeing anything, but about daylight the mate came down, and asked if I would like to see the ship they were about to speak. When I got on deck, a ship on the opposite tack had her burgee displayed on the poop with her name-Sabine. We had, probably, been beating about in company all night. Next day, in talking over the occurrence with our invisible friends, we asked them how they would warn us in future from danger of collision ? They replied, “We will give five loud raps in the direction from which the ship may approach”—and on request a specimen was given us loud enough to wake the watch.

These are experiences selected from thousands of occurrences which have displayed the loving kindness of our friends; and in all communications which I have received, the most striking feature to me is the intense kindness expressed.

I am, respectfully,


i The

CONFUCIUS ON THE POWER OF Spirits.—Twenty-five centuries ago, Confucius wrote: “ How vast is the power of spirits! An ocean of invisible intelligences surrounds us everywhere. If you look for them you cannot see them. If you listen you cannot hear them. Identified with the substance of all things, they cannot be separated from it. They cause men to purify and sanctify their hearts, to clothe themselves with festive garments, and offer oblations to their ancestors. Worship the gods as if they were visibly present. Sacrifice to ancestors as if they were here."


Spiritual Magazine.



To the instances of spiritual perception and reception in Raffaele, Michael Angelo, Mozart, Beethoven, &c., we may add the same peculiarity in Haydon. Haydon was one of the most impassioned and impetuous-spirited men that ever lived. With great pictorial genius, but with much egotism and self-estimation, he had an enthusiasm for high art and an independence of spirit which made his life one great battle with the Royal Academy, with the prejudices of the age, with reluctant statesmen, and with pecuniary embarrassment, which at length caused him to commit suicide. His life, by Tom Taylor, is one of the most awful and harrowing stories of a human existence ever perused, and the bulk of it is penned by the unfortunate man himself. There is no question that Haydon was right in his ideas of artand it was very much by his exertions that Government was at length induced to introduce the pictorial embellishments of the Houses of Parliament, and to extend the little patronage to high art that it has done; but by his incessant appeals to ministers and noblemen on the subject, and for advances of money to extricate him from the terrible difficulties into which his pursuit of high art in the face of public apathy had led him, he had made himself to them, in plain language, a bore. This, in addition to a defect of sight, which made the colouring and finish of his pictures very defective, excluded him from a share of the public works which his single-handed labours had induced the Government to commence, and, no doubt, led to his final catastrophe. In the course of this stormy life, Haydon was often worked up into that nervous condition when the inner senses are preternaturally excited, and he dreamed, or saw things which belong to the spiritual world. N.$.-III.


he says:

In his love and perception of the beautiful and poetical, Haydon was amongst the first to discover, across the fogs of public prejudice, the genius of Wordsworth, Leigh Hunt, and Keats, and he became a zealous and firm friend of these celebrated men, all of whom have paid the warmest tributes to his fame and public services. Living, therefore, in the constant atmosphere of poetry and painting, it was but another short step into the spiritual. In his journal of February 13, 1840,

“After the investigation of the Convention of Cintra, and when the Duke of Wellington had proved his genius to my mind, I lay in bed one morning, and clearly saw in my mind's eye his triumph in Spain, and the crossing the French frontier. I got up, and determined, young as I was, to write to him, to tell him

my conviction, and to add, that if it turned out as I said—as my views in art were as grand as his in military matters-I hoped he would allow me, in the hour of victory, to remind him of my prophecy. Subsequent reasoning made me believe this to be absurd, and to the regret of my whole after-life, I gave up the notion.

“ This morning I had similar foreshadowings about the affairs of the East, the complications of which I clearly unravelled.

“ March 8, 1830.-Few men have the courage to say they believe in dreams. Last night I dreamed the King told Seguier he did not like my picture, and would not have it. I got up this morning greatly distressed in mind about it, and said, “If this prove true, is there not something in dreams ?' It has proved true.

“Feb. 6, 1831.—I dreamed Napoleon appeared to me, and presented to me a golden key. This was about a month since. It is curious. I have lately had singular dreams; as Achilles says, 'The shades of our friends must be permitted to visit us.'”

He was painting his picture of Napoleon musing at St. Helena, and argued that it must be a success from his dream. It was not only so, but the painting of copies of it of a less size, of which he did nearly thirty, was a golden key to him. He adds: “ Dreamt that Michael Angelo came to me last night in my painting room. I talked to him, and he shook hands with me.

I took him to the small medallion over my chimneypiece, and said, 'It is very like, but I don't think your nose so much broken as I had imagined. I thought it strange in my dream; I could not make it out how he came there. He had a brown coat and complexion. I certainly think something grand in my destiny is coming on, for all the spirits of the illustrious dead are hovering about me. * I seem as if I were seized

with supernatural communication, and start up in solitude. I expect a Dira facies, or smiling angel, beckoning and pointing. (Vol. II., p. 299).

August 28.-Debt and ruin have touched the honour of my name. Yet I am not unhappy. I never lose the mysterious whisper, 'Go on,' and I feel that, in spite of calamity and present appearances, as I am virtuous and good, I shall, before I die, carry my object.

“ Washington Irving says, Columbus imagined the voice of the Deity spoke to him to comfort him in his troubles in Hispaniola. No; he did not imagine it, he did hear it, and it did speak. Irving calls him a visionary. Oh, no! Irving has no such object—he has no such communications.”

In April, 1841, he went to Playford Hall to paint the portrait of Thomas Clarkson for his great picture of the AntiSlavery Convention, and this is what he notes in his journal :

Clarkson told me the whole story of his vision. Xe said he was sleeping when a voice awoke him, and he heard distinctly these words: “You have not done all your work. There is America. Clarkson said it was vivid. He sat up in his bed; be listened, and heard no more. Then the whole subject of his last pamphlet came to his mind. Texts without end crowded in, and he got up in the morning and began it, and worked eight hours a day till it was done-till he hoped he had not left the Americans a leg to stand on.

“ Now come the causes of this belief. There is no doubt that all men who devote their lives from boyhood to a great cause have the impression of being called or led by the Deity. Does this impression come from the mere physical exercise of the brain in one direction, so that imagination is excited, or does perpetual solitude engender the notion that what is merely imagined is actual? Clarkson says he was sleeping. Might he not have dreamt strongly? He heard a voice, and sat upright, neither awake nor asleep, and still heard the imagined sounds of the dream before his reason returned with his waking. This i the physical explanation, and is always more gratifying to world than the supposition that any being is so favoured by as to be called and selected. On the other hand, Clarkso evidently been a great instrument for the abolition of a

A whole species, who have suffered for centurier by his exertions, and those of others, been advanced in of human beings to liberty and protection. Is such unworthy the interference of the Deity? If not, is it in he would select for such a benevolent purpose a hum his instrument? The men who do these great things have the impression that they are so impelled. T



Columbus believed he heard a voice in the storm, encouraging him to persevere. Socrates believed in his spirit'; and if it be allowed to refer to Christ, the Saviour always talked as of an immediate communication. I myself have believed in such impressions all my life. I believe I have been so acted on from seventeen to fifty-five, for the purpose of reforming and refining my great country in art. I believe that my sufferings were meant, first to correct me,-and then, by rousing attention, to interest my nation. I know that I am corrected, and a better man; and I know there exists a sympathy for me, and by reflection for my style and object, which, without such causes, could not have operated so soon. At seventeen, I could not write a word intelligibly. Who gave me the power to thunder out in one night, as if by inspiration, my thoughts on the Academic question? Who guided me as to the only sound system of education in an artist, in opposition to all the existing practice of the day in England? Who cheered me when ali the world seemed adverse to desert ? God,-my great, my benevolent, my blessed Creator, by the influence--and the influence only—of his Holy, Holy, Holy Spirit !

Perhaps this is insanity, as well as Clarkson's, Columbus's, Milton's, and others. Perhaps we are all drunk with new wine. No, no; we are all more alive to the supernatural and spiritual than the rest of our fellow-creatures. Where did I see the prototype of the head of Lazarus? I had never seen a man raised from the dead. Who was my inspirer? God, my blessed Creator.

6. How often in prison, in want, in distress, in blindness, have I knelt in agony before Him, my forehead touching the ground, and prayed for His mercy! How often have I risen with Go on 60 loud in my brain as to make me start! How often have I, in despair, opened the Scriptures, and seen, as in letters of fire, Fear thou not; I am with thee!' And have I ever had occasion but

yonce to find the result did not answer the promises ? And that result will yet be accomplished.

Hy believe Clarkson did hear a voice, like other selected beings before he was born.”—Vol. III, p. 171.

March 24, 1844.-Awoke this morning with that sort of audible whisper which Socrates, Columbus, and Tasso heard :"Why do you not paint your own six designs for the house on your own foundation, and exhibit them?

* One of the most remarkable days and nights of my life. I slept at the Adelphi last night, high up, and just at break of day I awoke, and felt as if a heavenly choir was leaving my slumbers as day dawned, and had been hanging over and inspiring me as I slept. I had not dreamt but heard the inspiration. When I was awake

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