How often have you heard people say "Ghosts? Nonsense! No such thing." "Who can believe that any but human beings of flesh and blood exist on this globe?" "There is no such thing as a haunt—and certainly no such thing as vengeance after death. This is a material world"?
Attend the case of Wizard Clip of West Virginia:
Long years ago, history states, in a little town in Jefferson County, West Virginia, a man lay dying. He was in the cabin of a neighbor, Adam Livingston. Death seemed inevitable, and Livingston did all in his power to relieve the physical suffering of his guest.
Came the dying man's request that Livingston get a spiritual adviser, a clergyman. Livingston refused.
The guest died, and from the time of that death, through many years that followed, a series of portentous events colored the life of Adam Livingston that only ended when he, himself—in terror and a nervous wreck—sought the aid of a recognized minister of the gospel and received what amounted to divine amelioration.
Shortly after the stranger's death, horses are said to have been heard circling the Livingston house, the steady tread, tread of their hoofs jarring the nerves of the inhabitants. Dishes pitched from their shelves and were broken; pieces of coal sprang from the fire; a barn burned down; heads were cut from chickens—all with no physical, human explanation.
Next came sounds of the grinding of shears as they clipped. Suits of clothes, hair from women's heads, shoes, curtains—all were clipped to shreds. This gave rise to the "Wizard Clip" as the name of the Livingston ghost.
Rumor declares that a woman, a skeptic, going to visit the Livingstons, had in the pocket of her dress a silk cap. She scoffed at the Livingston haunt—and when her cap was removed from her pocket, the cap was in shreds, plainly having been clipped. But no one ever saw the shears or the wielder of the cutting blades.
You never saw a ghost—you never touched a ghost—perhaps you never heard a ghost. But how can you say that they don't exist? Beware of scoffing! Beware—lest your clothes fall away in shreds, lest the haunt of horses tramping feet wreck your peace. Beware—lest scoffing bring upon you shattered nerves, a restless spirit, a craving for peace that can be satisfied nowhere.