“On a glorious summer afternoon in 1909, I was cycling alone on an errand through the lovely stretch of country between Frensham and Haslemere. I paused midway on the journey at a little Church standing on a small green by the side of the lonely road. The building was neither old nor new, and boasted no charm or distinction of style without or within. Yet a precious sense of homeliness and welcome met me on entering. As I knelt at the altar steps praying for some I loved dearly and for my own needs, deep peace flowed into my soul, and the air seemed sweet with blessing. After a space I rose, left the altar, and sank on my knees again in the Chancel. I knelt upright on the floor, my hands hanging clasped in front of me, my head held straight up, and facing East. I mention these details to make it plain that there was no direct sunlight on my face, nor was there any pressure of the hands upon the closed eyes, either of which things may cause optical illusion when combined with a dreamy or devout imagination. Moreover, I had been in the dim church long enough to be accustomed to its contrast with the shining day outside. Deep quietness, gratitude, and happiness enfolded me, and I do not know how long I remained thus before I became aware of a wonderful Presence poised near the altar. I sensed a figure of towering stature clad in azure and white radiance… but wondrous beyond all mystery of dazzling light and mighty height, was the fragrance of Love, which poured out from this Presence; Love so vivid, yet so peaceful and compassionate that no words can begin to describe it. I was held in a depersonalized passion of worship, an adoration so sublime that I could feel my praise blending with the strong rhythm of this great Being’s love, and glowing upward like an ardent flame of joy to God. My spirit continued timelessly in this soaring blessedness and then began to sink softly earthward into a sense of calm strength and enrichment indescribable, in which I rested till the beloved Presence seemed to withdraw and the outer appearance of surrounding objects asserted itself once more. I arose and went out of the little church with light step and buoyant heart. Life has never been the same since. A potent memory, an inner certitude of Promise, remain to bless those grey hours, those periods of trial, which are an indispensable part of our daily schooling on earth. Such an abiding treasure is surely proof that this experience was no mere religious daydream but held within it an earnest [promise?] from the realms of Reality.”
Mrs. Emma S. King, of Australia, copied out for me the following entries from her diaries.
5 October 1937: “After a healing concentration for my sister-in-law, I felt rather spent with the force that had flowed through me and lay face down on the floor to receive a renewal of strength for myself. A beautiful angel came and stood over me, and my consciousness was raised considerably. The angel was about eight feet tall, and its aura extended the full width of the room. It was radiantly white end luminous, with a golden edge, and within the aura, about two feet deep, were circles of revolving, interlacing golden light. The angel’s feet touched my right side, and peace and confidence filled my heart. I lay in absolute comfort, physically, astrally, and mentally. In a few moments I saw on my left side something I never believed existed. About three feet away from me stood an embodiment of the dark forces, though he was a magnificent figure in build and looks. I was thoroughly astonished, and deep in my mind, almost mechanically, I said ‘Go hence! Go hence!’ Then I realised that the angel was looking straight at this being of darkness so that, despite all his power, he was incapable of coming nearer. Watching safe within the angel’s aura, a sudden realisation of the horror and agony of such a life filled my heart with pity, to think that any beings should live in those conditions. As my prayer of compassion went up, the figure of Our Lord became visible about a foot from my head, and a voice told me to make the Sign of the Cross over the dark one. I obeyed, and he slowly faded away. It was a most weird experience, and I felt I was being taught the power of protection, which is drawn around us when we try continually to turn our thoughts and aspirations upward.”
5 November 1939, Healing Service at Liberal Catholic Church (founded in Holland): “Father Farquharson asked the congregation to repeat a verse with him and while this was being done a glorious form of Our Lord completely blotted out the altar. The force flowing from Him was like blue and white opalescent fire, and when Reverend Farquharson invoked the Angel of Healing, this radiant being stood between Our Lord and the two priests officiating. The force from Our Lord came through the angel into and through the two priests to the people who were presenting themselves to be anointed. More and more I am impressed by the work being done by the Invisible Helpers during these services. At this service there were young children on one side of the Church who had passed out through the wars in various countries, and on the other side were dark-robed souls needing help. There were two in particular, very sad and wretched women, brought from the dark side of the astral plane to kneel at the altar rail. My attention was drawn to these two. They knelt sideways, not facing the radiant Angel of Healing, but looking with almost terrified eyes into mine. My heart went out to these two more than all the rest, in love and sympathy.”
December 1939, Healing Service, L. C. Church: “At the invocation, an Angel of Our Lord appeared before the altar. It was very tall, taller than the highest point of the altar. The vibrations of its aura were beautiful, like iridescent downy feathers pulsing outward and sending streams of healing force in every direction. During the anointing of the people, the aura of the assistant priest was filled with brilliant blue in which silver stars kept appearing and disappearing.”
February 1940, Healing Service, L.C. Church: “During the service, Reverend Farquharson’s head was surrounded with radiant yellow vibrations. When I returned to my seat after being anointed, the Angel of Healing became visible to me before the altar. The power from this glorious being flooded the whole church, flowing through the two priests in streams of gold and rose vibrations. My whole consciousness became intently fixed on the angel’s face, the glory and beauty of it making completely oblivious all physical-plane movement. My heart filled with longing to paint this vision for all there to see, but at the same time I felt the despair of the artist who knows that even with brushes dipped in light and fire it would be impossible to portray what was before me. Although my attention was riveted on this lovely being, I could still see all around me the poor soul from the dark side of the astral plane, brought there for help. They were all darkly clad, kneeling in the healing vibrations. The more love and sympathy that went from me to those about me, the clearer and more uplifting became the vision of the angel.
“The Angel of Benediction was entirely different, hovering over the ‘Host’ and raying out vibrations of peace that seemed to crown the work of the Healing Angel.”
April 1941, Healing Service, L.C. Church: “This was Palm Sunday, and the Angel of Healing flooded the whole building with beautiful purple rays of light. This light and power came through Reverend Furse-Morrish in a wonderful rose vibration, filling his aura as he anointed the people who came forward. The same force coming through Farquharson was opalescent, with a lot of blue and silver in it.”
Melbourne, 1942, Healing Service, L.C. Church: “This is the first Healing Service of the New Year. When I went up for the anointing, I prayed to be just a channel through which healing might pass to my little grandson who was in a hospital in the country with scarlet fever. I saw the power go through me from the angel direct to the child in the bed in the hospital. This healing power passed through an angel who overshadowed the child and the bed. This was interesting, as I saw the extra healing force passing through myself and augmenting the power of the Angel of Healing already caring for the child’s welfare.”
Melbourne, 1942, Healing Service, L.C.Church: “I particularly wish to try to describe the Healing Angel at this service, as I have never seen an angel just like it before. It was truly magnificent. Radiant silvery light and force poured from it in every direction, with healing and peace and infinite impersonal sympathy reaching out far beyond the confines of the little church. But over a
nd above all these things and stronger than anything else was the abundant power of endurance, and it seemed as though the angel was a gateway to a vast storehouse of this power. Another unusual thing was that this same angel stayed and took charge of the Service of Benediction. This is the first time I have seen this happen, as always when I have been there it has been the Angel of Healing for the Healing Service and a different angel for the Benediction Service. During the following week, however, Mr. Farquharson came to see me and said that Reverend McConkie had been visited by this particular Angel—which in the beginning had been the means of Reverend McConkie starting the Healing Service—and it told him that it had been away to another planet. It had a long talk with him and informed him that it was staying for the Healing Service and the other service being held that day. This accounts for my seeing the same angel officiating at both services. Mr. Farquharson told me this after I had given him my account, and he was very pleased that the two visions tallied.”
Mrs. Veronica Maxwell gave the following description of an Angelic Being who seemed to be guarding an ancient shrine. “One day, while staying with some friends who owned a wild island off the Bay of Donegal, I climbed a mountain partly covered with woodland until I reached the top, which had a superb view of seventeen uninhabited islands spread out on the silver waters glittering in the sunshine. I sat down on moss-covered stones and had such an extraordinary feeling that I scraped away some of the moss and saw that the ancient stones were built into something deep down, which might have been an altar or part of a temple. In this magic place, the soft wind blew over the wild thyme with a gentle sound, and I was lost in the remote beauty of it all. Then I became aware of something. There was a Presence standing looking at me, perhaps ten yards away or more. It was very tall, with a most regal bearing and of great beauty. The general impression was of luminous silver and white, and he held in his hand a shining, unsheathed sword. As he stood there I had the feeling of a wonderful benediction flowing round me. I don’t know how long it lasted but long enough for my spirit to rejoice, as it has rejoiced ever since.”
Mr. H. T. Howard, of Nottingham, sent me the following account of a great angel who guards a sacred place in Northumberland: “[I found myself] being subject to a very high-frequency vibration. (I am an occultist—and there are signs by which this can be perceived.) This continued until I left the place an hour or two later and requested to be ‘returned to normal.’ In these and in other ways I have formed a kind of magical link with the place, so that it means something special to me. When I am away from it, the place seems to be constantly calling me back, largely for this reason I spend every annual summer holiday at Alnwick—so that I can revisit Dunstanburgh two or three times again. And after the holiday is over, I begin to look forward to the next time. I find, however, I can contact the place and experience its peace to some extent wherever I am; in times of need I find I can also contact the angel of the place.”
Mrs. Esme Swainson, of Somerset, has seen the great angels in charge of magnetic centres, at Maiden Castle, the prehistoric hill fort in Dorset, and the Tor at Glastonbury, Somerset. The Maiden Castle Angel is over 30 feet high, and holds what seems to be a rod of power. From my contributor’s rough sketch of the angel, I could see that the lines of force flowing from the head are vaguely reminiscent of an Indian’s feathered headdress. As regards the Tor Angel, Mrs. Swainson received the impression of fire and sun-power, of gold and rose. “I was reminded of the idea of St. Michael,” she said, “more than female, though I don’t think these Angels have any sex.” She has seen the Deva in charge of a healing group, and also the Angel of the Presence at Mass. The one she saw most clearly at a special meeting had a rather pointed chin and slanting eyes, and from its head streamed lines of force, which gave the appearance of hair.
“This is my experience of seeing an Angel,” wrote Mrs. Pauline Young, of Lancashire. “I was lying in my bed feeling very peaceful and looking at the wall in front of me, when two feet appeared in the ceiling, then the whole body just seemed to drop down to my floor. There, standing in front of me, was the figure of an angel who seemed to be female, but I’m not quite sure. She wore a pale grey gown and her hair was jet-black and cut in a bob-style. She looked as if she was talking to someone, and never once saw me, or glanced my way. Her wings were very beautiful; they were about eight feet long to her size of approximately five feet. I just sat there looking at her. She did not glow, or look any different from you and I, except, of course, for the wings. Then after a few minutes she just rose before my very eyes, back up through the ceiling, and was gone.”
“Having been a student of music from early childhood,” said Mrs. M. K. Thornley of Cornwall, “it is natural that vibrations should interpret themselves to me with form and meaning through sound, at times perhaps subjectively, but at others I verily believe by the actual perception of matters or beings from ‘outside’ and having no connection whatever with myself. The following instance is perhaps worth recording. During the First World War there was a certain amount of violin playing demanded of me, though hands coarsened by the chemicals and hard work of the hospital wards and a total lack of opportunities for practice made these occasions anything but satisfactory to me. In 1915 I was taken over to a hall somewhere to perform, but it is not of my performance there is anything to say, but of a beautiful lady who sang the old Easter hymn, which is best known as setting to the words ‘Ye watchers and ye Holy Ones, bright Seraphs Cherubim and Thrones.’ Her voice was clear and golden as transparent amber; large, joyous, sweet; and she sang like an instrumentalist, giving every note its true value and prominence. It was as if the message of the hymn was utterly real and beloved to her uplifted heart and she was giving it out as a treasure to all around. The first verse was to my ears a lovely solo, accompanied by a worn piano. Then, towards the end of it, I seemed to hear other voices in harmony, chiming in among her Alleluias, and during the next verses this effect was cumulative, her lovely voice leading, but amplified and supported by other voices in increasing numbers. Those who are familiar with the magnificent tune know well the opportunities it gives for extended harmony and elaboration, and every thread and maze of sound was appropriated by voices of such angelic clarity and sweetness that the effect was a paean of worship, and utterly beautiful. The thought naturally came to me: ‘are there people behind those screens, an unseen chorus?’ But that couldn’t be the case; I had just been at the back of the little stage with the other performers, and I knew such a thing was out the question. I rather shyly asked an old, intimate friend sitting beside me if she had heard other voices, but she shook her head, and no more was said. I do not know how to explain it, but shall never forget nor cease to be grateful that I heard what seemed to be the sweet, singer’s train of heavenly songsters. I have never heard the like before or since.”
Mrs. Shirley Eshelby, also of Cornwall, was very deaf, but she said, “There is no deafness in my soul, and I can hear celestial music, which is far more beautiful than anything I have ever heard with physical ears.”
In this next account, Mrs. Emma S. King, of Australia, describes how an angel and a group of fairies helped the well-known singer Miss Marjorie Lawrence during a performance at the Melbourne Town Hall in August 1944. This wonderful artist had previously been stricken with poliomyelitis while singing in Mexico City, but eventually she had recovered sufficiently to be able to travel by air in her wheelchair to give concerts in camps and hospitals. At the concert that Mrs. King attended, Miss Lawrence had to sing sitting down, as her legs were still paralysed. “When she was ready to sing, she looked up to a wonderful Angel of Music high above the audience and near the centre of the hall. There was perfect coordination between the angel and herself, and with the downpouring of power came her first notes. When she finished her song, she clearly acknowledged the angel’s help before bowing to the applause of the audience. During the heavier items of her programme, the interplay between her and the angel became more and more complete, until
in Brunnhilde’s farewell to Siegfried the angel drew closer and closer, and finally remained poised in front of Miss Lawrence on the stage, with its force turned into her to augment her own. “All the evening, around her knees was a circle of very tall fairies, sending a continuous stream of vibrations into her legs.”
In September 1935, Mrs. King went to a concert by Richard Crooks and combined choirs in the Melbourne Exhibition Building. “The last item on the programme was the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’ A huge angel, radiating scintillating white light, appeared beneath the dome, and as the music rose to a climax a circle of small angels formed under the outer edge of the dome. The light emanating from them, which might best be described as white fire without heat, left a feeling of benediction that lasted for some days. Mrs. King felt she had experienced something of what Handel himself saw while he was composing this music, for it is well-known that his servant found him in tears of rapture, exclaiming: ‘I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God himself.’”
In her before-mentioned book Rediscovering the Angels, Mrs. Flower A. Newhouse wrote that on sacred holidays we should try to hear Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus. “Whenever this music is sung, the angels of the astral and mental worlds join the chorus and their accompaniment is a thousand times more joyous and victorious than the human parts.” She also said that the music of the Children’s Prayer in Humperdinck’s opera “Hansel and Gretel” was inspired by the chantings of the Guardian Angels.
Seeing Fairies Page 42