communication with the invisible world, and exercised
a supernatural power which they derived from it.
And not missionaries only have believed this, and
old travellers who lived in ages of credulity, but
more recent observers, such as Carver and Bruce, whose
testimony is of great weight, and who were neither
ignorant, nor weak, nor credulous men. What
I have read concerning ordeals also staggers me; and
I am sometimes inclined to think it more possible that
when there has been full faith on all sides these
appeals to divine justice may have been answered by
Him who sees the secrets of all hearts than that modes
of trial should have prevailed so long and so generally,
from some of which no person could ever have escaped
without an interposition of Providence. Thus
it has appeared to me in my calm and unbiassed judgment.
Yet I confess I should want faith to make the trial.
May it not be, that by such means in dark ages, and
among blind nations, the purpose is effected of preserving
conscience and the belief of our immortality, without
which the life of our life would be extinct?
And with regard to the conjurers of the African and
American savages, would it be unreasonable to suppose
that, as the most elevated devotion brings us into
fellowship with the Holy Spirit, a correspondent degree
of wickedness may effect a communion with evil intelligences?
These are mere speculations which I advance for as
little as they are worth. My serious belief
amounts to this, that preternatural impressions are
sometimes communicated to us for wise purposes:
and that departed spirits are sometimes permitted
to manifest themselves.
Stranger.—If a ghost, then, were disposed
to pay you a visit, you would be in a proper state
of mind for receiving such a visitor?
Montesinos.—I should not credit my senses
lightly; neither should I obstinately distrust them,
after I had put the reality of the appearance to the
proof, as far as that were possible.
Stranger.—Should you like to have an opportunity
afforded you?
Montesinos.—Heaven forbid! I have
suffered so much in dreams from conversing with those
whom even in sleep I knew to be departed, that an
actual presence might perhaps be more than I could
bear.
Stranger.—But if it were the spirit of
one with whom you had no near ties of relationship
or love, how then would it affect you?
Montesinos.—That would of course be according
to the circumstances on both sides. But I entreat
you not to imagine that I am any way desirous of enduring
the experiment.
Stranger.—Suppose, for example, he were
to present himself as I have done; the purport of
his coming friendly; the place and opportunity suiting,
as at present; the time also considerately chosen—after
dinner; and the spirit not more abrupt in his appearance
nor more formidable in aspect than the being who now
addresses you?
Montesinos.—Why, sir, to so substantial
a ghost, and of such respectable appearance, I might,
perhaps, have courage enough to say with Hamlet,