^%,

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

4ip

1.0

I.I

11.25

IM 115

|30

■^ Uii 12.2
us

L£ 12.0

'Am

^^y

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

•s^

.•\

^:^^

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. I4S80

(716) 873-4S03

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques

The Institi.te has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibliographicaily unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are checked below.

D
D

Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

I I Covers damaged/

Couverture endommagde

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaur6e et/ou pelliculde

□ Cover title missing/
Le titre de couverture manque

I I Coloured maps/

Cartes g^ographiques en couleur

Coloured init (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/

Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur

Bound with other material/
Reli6 avec d'autres documents

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

La re iiure serr6e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge int6rieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
11 se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouties
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela dtait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas dtd filmdes.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires suppldmentaires;

The
to til

L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les di&tails
de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du
point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la methods normale de filmage
sont indiqu6s ci-dessous.

□ Coloured pages/
Pages de couleur

□ Pages damaged/
Pages endommagies

□ Pages restored and/or laminated/
Pages restaurdes et/ou pellicul6es

r~~} Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/

The
posi

of tr

filml

Orig
begi
the I
sion
othe
first
sion
or ill

Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piqudes

Pages detached/
Pages d6tach6es

Showthrough/
Transparence

Quality of prir

Qualiti indgale de I'impression

Includes supplementary materif
Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire

Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible

I I Pages detached/

I 1 Showthrough/

I I Quality of print varies/

I I Includes supplementary material/

I I Only edition available/

The
shal
TINI
whi(

Map
difff
entii
begl
righ
reqi
met

Pages wholly or partialh' obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partieilement
obscurcies par un feuiilet d'errata, une peiure,
etc., ont 6t6 filmdes d nouveau de faqon d
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est film6 au taux de reduction indiqud ci-dessous

10X 14X 18X 22X

26X

30X

12X

16X

20X

24X 28X 32X

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

Douglas Library
Queen's University

L'exemrJiaIre filmA fut reproduit grAce A la
g4nAro«ltA de:

Douglas Library
Queen's University

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in iteeping with the
filming contract specifications.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or Illustrated impres-
sion, or the bacic cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

Les Images suivantes ont At* reproduites avec ie
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la nettett de I'exemplalre f llmA, et en
conformlt6 avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Les exemplaires origlnaux dont la couverture en
papier est ImprlmAe sont filmte en commenpant
par Ie premier plat et en terminant soit par la
dernlAre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'Impression ou d'illustratlon, soit par ie second
plat, salon Ie cas. Tous les autres exemplaires
origlnaux sont fllmte en commen^ant par la
premlAre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'Impression ou d'illustratlon et en terminant par
la dernlAre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol -^ (meaning "CON-
TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Un des symboies suivants apparaTtra sur la
derniAre image de cheque microfiche, selon te
cas: ie symbols — ► signifie "A SUIVRE", Ie
symbols V signifie "FIN".

tAaps. plates, cherts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely Included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams Illustrate the
method:

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre
fiimis A des taux de reduction diff6rents.
Lnrsque Ie document est trop grand pour Atre
reproduit en un seul ciichA, 11 est fiimA A partir
de I'angle supArleur gauche, de gauche A droits,
et de haut en bas, en prenant Ie nombre
d'images nAcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la m6thode.

A ao

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN

A STI DY OF

DREAMS, PREMONITIONS, PRAYER AND REMARKABLE ANSWERS,

HYPNOTISM, SPIRITUALISM, TELEPATHY, APPARITIONS,

PECULIAR MENTAL AND SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCES.

UNEXPLAINED PSYCHICAL PHENOMENA.

A aOOK OF PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ORIGINAL AND SELECTED, RELATED IN THEIR

OWN LANGUAGE BY REPUIABLR PERSONS, TOGETHER WITH RUNNING

COMMENTS AND A THOUGHTFUL SUMMARY.

BY THE KniTOR

REV. PRINCIPAL AUSTIN, B.A., D.D.

WITH AN" INI'RODUCTK'N nV

THE REV. E. I. BADGLEY, M.A., LLD.

Professoio] Philosophy, I'iitoria University

TOKONTO AND BRANTFORD:

THE BRADLEY-UARRETSON COMPANY, Limited

M^»^M^ - ' "•

■of

- /

'^-«^"'^t;z'^^°^j':Z':r:;\:!.'i::^; ortsjf "■™ -■""■"' -^ '^'-y'^K ^ ■>.. B„d„,.

AUTHOR'S PREFACE

QIR WILLIAM HAMILTON'S ^avorite aphorism was this:

^^ " In the world there is nothing great but man.

In man there is no'hin^' great but mind."

The truth of these comprehensive statements is growinj^ more apparent to the world as men
advance in knowledfje of nature and of themselves. Man is the centre of all the j^reat plan;
and purposes of God in creation, providence, and p;race, and man is but another term for
mind. The mineral kingdom exists for and supports the vegetable, the vegetable in turn
supports the animal kingdom, the animal creation in turn serves and supports man's
physical being ; man's physical nature is the instrument for nourishing and developing the
mind. The mind is therefore the final development, the finished product, the highest
result of all nature's processes and of all the providential oversight and care bestowed upon
our world.

What study then can be more interesting or instructive than that of psychology,
and what engagement more fascinating than the investigation of those wonderful powers of
mind which manifest themselves in certain individuals, and in many individuals under
abnormal conditions — powers and faculties which are so astounding in their operations that
we are almost tempted to style them supernatural? It may well be doubted if any other
realm than the mental can furnish such wonderland for exploration.

Nature presents us many wonders for our contemplation, in the heavens above and the
earth beneath — wonders of sea and land, of the valley and moimtain, of the air and ocean.
Yet no department of the physical realm offers such arrays of marvellous facts for human
contemplation and study as the world of mind and that mysterious region whore mind and
matter seem to meet, known in modern occult literature as " borderland."

For power to interest and charm the human soul no tales of "Arabian Nights,"
no romance of the novelist, no weird work of the imagination displayed in painting or in
poem can equal the tales of marvellous mental experiences which show powers and
potencies of mind as yet but ditnly understood.

Our current literature abounds with testimonies of reputable men and women
concerning mental experiences that border on the mysterious, and in some cases on
the miraculous. In addition there is a vast body of interesting data to be collected from
the current traditions, and many a marvellous tale told, and believed, at the fireside which
has not been seen upon the printed page.

It is true very many of these can be explained by illusion, error, hallucination
or otherwise, or referred to some law of mental activity well known to the student

(iLlMFSES OF THK UNSEEN.

of philosophy. Many of these experiences, however, seem utterly incapable of any rational
explanation at present, and cannot be resolved by any known law. It would be presump-
tion, however, on our part to assume that such experien':es were not in harmony with some
law, though that law may be to us unknown, or to assume the existence and agency
of other intelligences for explaining phenomena which increased knf)wledge nriv show to
be the result of some hidden properties of matter, or some obscure power of mind.

Here is a mine for the psychologist, explored but in part, a vein but dimly penetrated
by the light of the philosopher's lamp. Here is a vast mass of human experiences await-
ing the verification, classification, and induction of the student of mental science.

Several purposes have guided the editor in the collection and classification of
the materials for this volume. First and foremost has been the aim to present facts, tlie
facts of experience in the form of human te^tiin )nies to subserve tlie cause of triitli.
All truth is of God, and equally sacred whether written in the pages of Revelation or in the
record of the rocks, or in the facts of human consciousness, or in the experiences of men.
Of course the fact is one thing and the interpretation of the fact, on the part of the witness, is
another, and the expression of that interpretation in language is still another thing. In all
theori;jing and attempted inductions these considerations must of course be kept steadily
in mind.

Another object has been to inspire a deeper faith in the powers, dignity, and possibil-
ities of the wonderful human nature which, as someone has declared, is

coil

mu|

b(;
fur J

" Opened lo the infinite

Anil destined to the eternal.'

The editor is not one who believes that men in general entertain too lofty an opinion of
themselves. It is true men may think more highly of themselves than they ought when
they compare themselves with their fellow men. It is equally true that it is impossible for
any man to have too high a conception of the dignity and value, the power and possibility
of this wonderful nature which is Goil's masterpiece of workmanship, and which Christ has
redeemed. It is hoped that the glimpses this book will afford of the wonderful powers
possessed by humanity may deepen in the mind of every reader the conception of the
greatness and glory of our common nature.

Another object has been to present the reader with a volume that will interest
and instruct the mind from preface to conclusion. There is a demand for books to-day
that will beguile a leisure hour pleasantly without taxing the brain. This age is one of
strong mental excitement, and life in town and city is presenting with each generation
increased strain upon the nervous system. The tension of the mental nature through
business competition, the pursuit of wealth, office, and honor, and even in the round
of fashionable follies and pleasures is in many cases tremendous. A book that can with
pleasure and profit occupy the attention of the wearii I business or professional man should
be considered a public benefaction.

The present volume will be found admirably adapted to this purpose. The plan of the
work required separate sections made up of short chapters, in many cases mere paragraphs,
each complete in itself, yet having a distinct relation to the other parts of the section.

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

The reader, therefore can find chapters to occupy his attention, we trnst pleasantly, for
a few moments ot leisure, or stciions complete in themselves tor several hours of
consecutive reading.

It is hoped that young and old may alike find appropriate and profitable reading, and
much of inspiration to a deeper and fuller study of mental science.

It is also the hope of both editor and publishers that the material here furnished may
be of value to advanced students of philosophy, and may assist in some small degi ie by
furnishing the necessary data for some broad inductions in this interesting realm of study.

We doubt not that all readers, old and young, who scan these interesting pages will
agree with Hamlet, " There are more things in heaven and earth, Horafio, than are dreamt
of in your philosophy."

B. ¥. AUSTIN-

Alma College, St. Thomas, Canada.

THE TABLE OF CONTENTS

pictcl
fictiol
meml
a won

CHArrER I.

Dreams.

Introductory c'.iapter by the Editor, discussing the various theories of dreams, ancient and modern,
and the dreams of Scripture. The strange experience of Mr. McDonald relating to a dream m a
Michigan lumber camp. A dream which revealed a future event, related by the Rev. William
Kettlewell. Mr. Bowlan's remarkable dream. Miss Gertie Tessler dreams of hidden money and finds
it. .Dreams controlled by suggestions, as related by Abercrombie. A young man's dream and
its fulfilment, as related by Dr. Buckley. Dr. Kitto's account of a dream which revealed a murder a .d
led to the murderer's execution. A dream showiht; clairvoyant power. A dream reported to
have located a gold mine. A dream revealing telepathic power. Dr. Bushnell's remarkable dream.
Mrs. Eames, of Kansas, relates two singular dreams. An error in book-keeping rectified by a dream.
Joseph Wilkin's telepathic dream. The London Times recounts a marvellous dream. The story of a
singular and beautiful dream is told by the Editor. Abercrombie relates a dream showing a prophetic
insight. Duncan Cameron's dream. Rev. J. D. Millard relates a dream revealing facts not otherwise
known.

CHAPIER H.
Tki.kfaihy.

Definitions and theories by the Editor. The theory of brain waves. Views of Professor Wm.
Crookes. Dr. Baraduc claims to have photographed the brain waves. Annie Besant, the Theosophist»
attempts a lucid explanation. The color, form, and definitenessof thought. Dr. Erneacova, the Italian
telepathist, and his experiments. An incident in the life of the Rev. W. G. Henderson, illustrating
telepathy. The singular experience of Mark Twain in mental telegraphy. Another incident in the
life of the humorist. An interesting case of telepathy, by the Rev. J. M. Savage. An instructive
article from the Toronto Mail. The various kinds of molecular action. Nothing supernatural in the
scientific sense. The nerve centres and their functions. The mystery of second sight. The nerve
centres. Usual and unusual means of communicating with the nerve centres.

CHAPTER HL

FORESHADOWINGS : ThE PkOPHETIC ELEMENT IN HuMAN NATURE.

Notes by the Editor on prevision. " Coining events cast their shadows before." How the future
becomes known to us. Hudson's duality of mind. There is a prophetic element in man. Mark
Twain as a proi)het. The great French astronomer, Fiammarian, on prevision. An interesting article
by Hester M. Poole, on prevision. The strange case of Mrs. A — , of New York city. Mark Twain
foretells the contents of a letter. Wolsey predicts the hour of his death. Professor Boehm's singular
premonition. A life saved by a premonition. Remarkable presentiment of a merchant. The prophetic
element in dreams. The prediclions of M. Cazotte. Remarkable case reported by Rev. Charles W.
Gushing. Luman Waiter's gift of prescience. A strange way of practising medicine. Paralysis com-

GLIMl'SKS OF THK UNSEEN. g

plctely cured by the prescription of Dr. Walter. A life lengthened forty years. Truth stronger than
fiction. A telei^raph message in a dream aiinoiinces a young man's death a week in advance. Scviial
members of a family have premonitions of a coming fatality. A marvellous case of clairvoyance and
a wonderful prophecy in relation to James E. Hughes, Esq.

CHAPTER IV.

Mkmorv.

Memory a wonderful power, and a fruitful source of pleasure. Views of different philosophers and
poets. Views of the Greeks. Plutarch and Dr. Watts on memory. May he injured or improved. Is
memory eternal ? Some account of phenomenal memories. Eord Macaulay, Magliabechi, and
Jedediah Hu.xton. Dr. .Abernethy, Secretary Stanton, Cyrus, Otho, and others. Phenome/ial
memories of John Kuller, Richard Parson, Mezzofante. Wesley's young Irish local preacher. Th«
Jesuit — Suarez — and Ben Jonson. The peasants of Brittany and the Waldenses. Views of Dugald
Stewart, the Scottish philosopher. Remarkable memory of a waiter in a San Francisco restaurant.
Mezzofante, who knew seventy languages. " Memory Woodfall." Calculating prodigies. The painter
of Cologne. The strolling player. William Eyon. Macaulay's marvellous memory. Gibbon
and Carlyle.

CHAPTER V.

Impkrative Imprkssions.

Introductory note by the Editor. The ca.se of Stephen Grellet. Called to a long journey in the
forest. A sermon without an audience. Bread cast upon the waters. An unknown hearer of
the Word. Wonderful results of the sermon in a vacant lumber camp. How Chaplain Searles was
led into the ministry. An imperative impression and what came of it. Remarkable case of a
clergyman in Quebec. An impression apparently contrary to interest, inclination, and reason.
A strange meeting, resulting in a I^aptism and great spiritual profit. David Tatum, the Quaker
evangelist, called to the rescue. A young man robbed and rescued. Fearful effects of the
drink traffic. A widow's wonderful deliverance. An imperative impression, a sleepless night,
and a deed of charity. An imperative impression produced by a dream. The lives of a family saved,
Mr. Stead of the Revieiv of Reviews. An impression which found exact fulfilment. Who can explain
'hese mysteries?

CHAPTER VI.

Praver and its Answer.

Prayer as natural to the soul as breathing to the body. The philosophy of prayer. The possibility
of direct answer in a universe governed by law. Three views as to the efficacy of prayer. $ioo sent in
answer to prayer. They that trust in the Lord shall not want. Annie and Vanie's first real prayer.
An effectual prayer. Bishop Simpson's recovery. 'I'he wonderful cure of Mrs. Sherman. A miracle
of healing in answer to prayer. Healed through faith. The restoration of the Rev. .A. Kennedy, in
answer to prayer. Prayer and the marriage fee. A wedding feast without a minister. A special need
and earnest supplication. A sudden call and an exact answer to prayer. " According to your faith."

CHAPTER VII.

Apparitions and Visions.

Definitions and theories. Views of Mr. Andrew Lang, of Merton College, Oxford. Subjective
visions and the gift of second sight. Ghost stories and fireside tales. Sir David Brewster on spectral

GLIMTSliS OF HIE UNSKF'N.

illusions. Modern spiritualism and similar beliefs. (!ontention of Robert Dale Owen. Mr. I^it))(s'
rejoinders. The theory t)f J. N. V'unj;-Slilling, as to visions, etc. Brief summary of Stilling's Pneu-
matology. The views of 'I'hompson Jay Hudson. 'I'he duality of the mind. The subjective mind
and its wonderful powers. The objective mind, a function of the brain. The subjective mind, an
entity. (Governed by sui;nestions and in<Mpabie of induciive reasoning. Mental therapeutics. Spectral
illusions. Communication of Dr. Dewar, of .Stirling. A vision and an explanation. Remarkable
spiritual experience of Duncan ('ameron. A wonderful coincidence related by Rev. Wni. Kettleweli.
The story of an a|)parition, by Wm. Jay Oroo, ex-jud^e of New York city. A personal experience, by
the same author. A remarkable account of an apparition from the journal of tlie Rev. John Wesley.
The apparition of a person still living. A young lady who can cause a semblance of herself to appear
in one room while she is bound in another. A vision of distant objects. An apparition preceding
the death of the Duke of Buckingham. \ remarkable vision in Montreal. A (Ireek vision of thtj
world. Visions of St. TluTesa, Luther, Zwinglius, Swedenborg, and others. Dr. Hu( kley's inductions.
.'\n apparition attested by two witnesses, reported by J. .VI. Savage.

niAl'TKR VIM.
Preskntimknis and 1'rkmonhions.

Presentiments and premonitions very common experiences. The secret origin of these mental
impressions. Unconscious cerebration. Telepathy and clairvoyance. "'I'he inter()retalion of
automatism," by Professor William R. Newbold. .\ child's presentiment of approaching death. Daniel
McTavish while in good health fortells his early decease. An analysis of typical presenti^nents, by Dr.
J. M. Buckley. Presentiments concerning the hour of death. The dissipated Lord Lyttleton.
Presentiments on the eve of battle. Soldiers and sailors proverbially superstitious. The possii)ililies
of chance in fulfilling piesentiments. Case of Joseph C. Baldwin. Presentiments sometimes fulfilled
but generally unfulfilled. Clairvoyant before death — an interesting incident by the Rev. J. W. Garland.
Saved by a presentiment. Dr. Moliere's story.

CHAITER IX.
MiNU Rkading.

.Mind reading and telc|)athy. The Society for Psychii a! Research Mind reading and muscle
reading. The nature of tlie experiments undertaken. The methods adopted by the Society. Actions
performed without contact with the person willing. The celebrated Creery family and their power of
guessing. Some singularly successful experiments with one of the children. Professt^r IJalfour
Stewart's experiments. Tluniglils and impressions made in minds far apart without means of
communication. Conclusions of the committee. Mr. Blackburn's experiments. Drawings by
the committee and descriptions of them by the subject. Original drawings and reproductions.
I'-xperimcnts by Edmund Gurney, M..^., late fellow of Trinity Colkne, (Jamliridgej F. W. H. Myers,
M. .A., late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge ; F. Podmoie, .M..\. ; and Professor Barrett. The
original dra.vings and t!ie reproductions. The discernment of spirits. A tiiief caught in his own snare.
An erring minister restored. Supernatural guidance, i'rincipal Austin's experience with a mind
re.ider.

CHAPTER X.

Hypnoti.sm.

Definitions and explanations. Historical retrospect. Reality of the phenomena now admitted.
Special interest taken in the subject by the scientific world. Disgraceful exhibitions of professional
mesmerizers. Dangers arising from the indiscriminate exercise of the hy})notic power. Legislation

'f ' d ir
...-ans fl
tlie subje(|
remedial
Laying or
hypnotisiil
as an eduj
I )angers d

Two
His prophl
heap of c
Eddy, an<
Christian
Anatomy,
importance
worse" :
r'airvoyam
Apparent

Introc
A'eiij^io Pi
consciousii
wonderful
The somn
Ciairvoyar
demon ol
" Not now
value of tl
them ? "

Pher
explored.
*' He is n
visitor or
Nelson I:
Claudius
the Zulu!
excluded
hundred;
reported

(".I.IMI'SKS OF THE UNSKEN.

'^ ' d in the public interest. The value of hypnotism. Its gt-neral effect on ttK .ium«n system. A%
.1. -ans of entortainment. I, au(;hal)le and ludicrous incidt-nts. Illustrations of the power to cuniiul
the suhject. Wonderful results of sunK»-'S''""' Hypnotism and surgical op«rations. Hypnotism as a
remedial agency. Different schools of hypnotism. Who can he mesmerized? Miignetic healing.
Laying on of hands. An>|iutations under hypnotisuj. DifTcient dogrtes of hypnou^n ;inil methods of
hypnotising. Physical tITects of hypnotism. Tiie psychical cflects. .Mental suggestion. Hypnotism
as an education. As a moral remedy. Theory of Dr. Dodds. The common sense of hypnotism.
Dangers of hypnotism. Theories and speculations ol students of hypnotism.

CHAl'lIiR XI.
Chris 1 1 AN Sc iknck .\nij Iamh ('rKE.

Two new terms in the "ocabuLiry of beliefs. The philosophy of faith. Christ's gilt of healing and
His prophecy. Christian Science a reaction against the materialism of the age. A grain of truth in a
heap of chaff. The President of the Massachusetts Metaphysical College. Mrs. Mary Maker Glover
liddy, and Mr. 1'. V. Quimby. The ('hristian Scientist Asscx iation. .'\ college with courses in
Christian Science, fees, and diplomas. What Christian .Science teaches. Sickness only a false dream.
Anatomy, physiology, and treatises on health are the parents of disease. Diet and exercise are of no
nnportance. A knowledge of Mrs. Eddy's writings is of vast importance. " If the patient should grow
worse": The method of treatment. Views of (jhrislian Si leiiiists on mesmerism, spiritualism,
rairvoyance, and faith cure. Dr. Buckley's tests. The perpetuation of youth and .iholition of death.
Apparent success of Christian Science and how it can be accounted for. The healing power of nature.

CHAITI'R XII.

Cl.AIKVOVANCE.

Introduction by the Editor. The mass of human evidence. Clairvoyant prescience from the
A'e/i'xio Philiisophical /ournal. Thrilling illustrations of clairvoyant power. The projection of
consciousness. Can the mind see and hear beyond the scope of the senses? Widow Wade and her
wonderful powers. An apparition and ('lairvoyance. Strange events in the life of John I'. Weeks.
The somnambulist of Lyons. Psychometric readings, Reading a man's character from his cane.
Clairvoyance and clairaudience. "The power of hearing the spoken words of a human soul." The
demon of Socrates. The process employed in the ordinary communion of subjective minds.
" Not now, you have two years yet." A remarkable case of clairaudient warning. I'lie great evidential
value of the case. " What pretence have I to deny well-attested facts because 1 cannot cumphrclicnd
them ? "

CllAPTKR XIII.

Unaccou.ntahi.k KxI'KKIKNCES.

Phenoinena which cannot bo classified. Nature, a vast realm, only the margins of which are
explored. Faith and reverence siiould characterize the student. " Earth's crammed with heaven.'
" He is not far from any one of us." Sinking facts and incidents witliout theory. Tiie mysterious
visitor on board the ship. A strange conjunction of an imperative impression and an apparition. Mr.
Nelson Howell's account of it. Astonishing feats of mysterious Hindoos. Dr. Honigberger and Sir
Claudius Wade. Huried for four months and resurrected. Professor Keller's account of the magic of
the Zulus. The revelations of a psychic. The finding of dead bodies. Telepathy and clairvoyance
excluded. Will the reader decide? The strange case of Moilie Fancher. A vision that extends
hundreds of miles. Solid walls and partitions no hindrance to her view. A somewhat similar case
reported in the Duluth Herald. K girl who sees through her fingers.

GLIMTSKS OK THE UNSEEN.

CHAl'I'KR XIV.
Human Pkodu.iks.

The out cropping of human nature. A promise and a prophecy of Ininian greatness. A place ir»
this utilitarian age for human prodigies. The mission of " IMind Tom.'" How to estimate and measure
human nature. What our nature can do under the most favourable conditions. Zerah Colburn, the
mathemalioai prodigy. A ciiild eight years of age, without training, a marvellous mathematician. Tells
the number of seconds in a term of years with correctness and dispatch. Extracts scjuare and cube
root. ("lives the square and cube of large numbers. Raises the number 8 to its sixteenth pt)wer. Num-
bers of two figures raised to the eight!) power, tlives the factors of numbers. Discovers prime num-
bers instantly. Tells instantly the num'oer of seconds in foriy-eight years. No discoverable method in
his calculations. Discovery of the fixed laws of nature. The memory has little to do with his power.
•'Dlind Tom," the negro pianist. Idiotic, blind, uneducited, and yet inimitable as a musician. Hears
for tlie first time long and ditlicult musical compositions, and reproduces them accurately. Imitates all
the sounds of nature. Other musical prodigies.

ClIAl'II.K \V.

Sl'lRITUALlSM.

Introductory sketch by the Editor. Phenomena in the house of the Fox family. The spirit circles^
and table rappings. Andrew Jackson Davis. The movement spreads like an epidemic. Mrs. Hayden
and Daniel Douglas Home. S[)reads like wild-fire in England. The Yorkshire Spiritual Telegraph.
I'^stimated number of spiritualists in 1S67 varied from three to eleven millions. Two periodicals in
iMigland, thirty in America, fifteen in France, and six in Austria advocate spiritualism. Physical and
automatic phenomena. Sound, lights, voices, and materializations. " Psycography," and "spirit
phot{)^,.aphy." Writing and drawing through \hv medium's hand. Entrancement and trance speaking.
Seeing spirits and hearing phantom voices. The physical manifestations criticized. Communications
cannot be relied on. Spiritualism has not a creed. Thompson Jay Hudson's explanation of spiritualistic
phenomena. Summary of objections to spiritualism. From the character of the medium. The sup-
|)i)sed communications and the efl'ects on society. A presentation of spiritualism from the National
Spiritualists' .Association.

CHAPTER XVI.

Gkniu.s and Insanity.

'Tiie close relation of genius and insanity. The poets aud prophets regard the source of
their utterances extraneous to themselves. .An abormil condition which opens the fount of latent
memorv and experience. Genius utilizes the stored oxi)eriences of the subjective mind, and
calls into play the spiritual [lowers. "IJIind 'Tom" and Zorah Colburn. Marvellous powers
of memory. Mechanical genius. Preternatural cunning. Heightened sensibility. Flights of
imagination. Rapidity of mental operation. Dr. Arthur Macdonald on "Abnormal Man." Views ot
.Aristotle, IK-inocrittis, Locke, Ciiateaubriand. Sentiments of Dryden and 'Tolstoi. The demons of
Socrates ami I'ausanias. Lucretius, and ("harles V., and Peter the (Ireat. Raphael and Pascal.
Voltaire ami Jeanne d'Arc. Henry Heine, Mozart and Condillac. Swift, Johnson, Cowper, Southey,
Shelley, Byron, Goldsmith, Lamb, and others.

CHAPTER XVII.

DiVINAriON AND .As IKOI.OGY.

Man essentially a religious being. Prayer and supplication for help and direction. In all ages
men have sought guidance of the Cods. 'The earlier forms of divination. Crude notions of spiritual

tri

SCI

itness. A place ir»
itimate and measure
'.erali Colhiirn, the
illiematician. Tells
s square atid cube
enth |H)vver. Nuni-
covers prime num-
)veral)le method in
io with his power.
I musician. Hears
ately. Imitates all

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

»3

truths. Various methods of divination. The famous oracles. The flight of birds, .\ugurs and
soothsayers. C'onsultinn the stars. 'Maieficsand benefics. I'rediction of the Great Plague in London.
Prediction of the Great Eire in London. Coincidences and the law of chances.

CILXPTER Win.

SOMNAMIUI.ISM.

Somnambulism an acted dream. Queer doings of somnambulists. Writing letters, reports.
Artistic work and piano playing. Dangerous deeds performed in somnambulism with apparent safety.
Four types of somnambulists. Those who speak but do not act ; this type frequent among children.
Those who act but do not spe. ;. Those who both speak and act. Those who speak and act, and
have sight and hearing ; this lat.er the most extreme type. Working from a mental picture. Often doe'
not see or hear whilst performing" his ditticult feats. Immoral acts from which the individual would
shrink in waking hours may be performed with indifference. The somnambulist not responsible for his
conduct. How to treat the somnambulist. Illustrative incidents.

The spirit circles-
lie. Mrs. Hayden
irituai Telegraph,
wo periodicals in
im. Physical and
)hy," and "spirit
d trance si)eaking.

Communications
on of spiritualistic
dium. The sup-
oni the National

d the source of
fount of latent
:tive mind, and
arvellous powers
ty. Mights of
^lan." Views of
The demons of
ael and Pascal.
Jowpcr, Southey,

1. In all ages
Jns of spiritual

CHAPTER XLX.
WiTciK u.\i r.

General belief in witchcraft. Astounding statement of Dr. Buckley that the majority of citizens in
the United States believe in witchcraft. From the Twelve Tables to the Hill of Rights. Altitude
of Church and State towards witchcraft. State laws and Church canons against it. .More natural
to women than to men. King James L a specialist on witcheraft. Trials for witchcraft in England and
America. Coke, IJacon, Hale, and Hlackstone admitted the possibility of witchcraft. Origin n\
witchcraft. Israelites and witchcraft. Salem witchcraft. Recent e.vaniples of belief. Does llie liihle
admit the reality of witchcraft? 'The woman of Endor. 'The phenomena of witchcraft. Explanation
of phenomena. Interesting articles.

CHAPII'.R \.\.

HaII.I'C IN A 1 lON.S.

Definitions and divisions of hallucinations. Can they coexist with sanity? II illucinations whicn
involve insanity. Hallucinations of the sane. Hallucinations accompanied with mental derangement.
Hallucinations in reference to illusions. 'Those combined with monomania and other forms of insanity.
'The luillucinations of nightmare and delirium tremens. ICcslacy, somnambulism, animal magnetism.
Hallucinations in febrile, acute, and chronic disea.ses. The causes of hallucination. Hallucinations
in regard to history, morality, religion. Treatment of liallucinations. Physical and moral causes.
Singular and interesting incidents in regard to hallucinations. Kelation of dreams and balluciiiatioiis.
Catalepsy and epilepsy in relation to hallucmaliuus.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

REV. B. F. AUSTIN Frontispiece

REV. PROFESSOR bai)(;li;v i6

THE GLORIFIED SPIRITS RETURXIXG TO Visrr EARTHLY SCENES - - - 55

MARK rWAIN - 63

BACH - - - . 75

J. H. COYNE 103

J. L. HUGHES .... - Ill

REV. J. W. GARLAND 131

REV. \\\M. si:arles 131

REV. R. D. THOMAS 141

REV. A. KENNEDY 157

THOMPSON J. HUDSON 163

DUNCAN CAMERON 183

REV. WM. KETTLEWELL 187

WM. JAY GROO 191

HANDEL - 221

VISION OF ANGELS CLINGING TO THE CROSS - - 279

REV. CHARLES \V. GUSHING - 313

REV. H. T. CROSS LEY - 339

MOZART - 363

ARE THEY NOT ALL MINISTERIN(; SPIRITS? 381

DR. R. M. BUCKli 397

REV. W. G. HENDERSON 411

AUGUST SCENE AT THE CRUCIFIXION 425

W. T. STEAD 453

INTRODUCTION

THE REV. PROFESSOR BADGLEY, LL.D.

The human consciousness is an exhaustless theme. Its origin, significance,
and destiny constitute the central problem in all literature, science, and art.
Tennyson has truthfully said :

" Dark is the world to thee ? Thyself art the reason why."
Among the many mysteries there is none greater than man himself. In him
focalize all forces, human and divine, the spiritual and the material, the finite
and the infinite, the actual and the potential, that which already is and that
which by a process of spiritual development may grow up into life eternal. He
is the one being who may be rich in the midst of poverty, and poor m abounding
riches which he has never made his conscious possession. His is a nature so
manifold in character, and so significant in meaning that we obtain but an im-
perfect and partial knowledge of its exhaustless resources. We seem ever to be
standing upon the edge of depths that are fathomless, or looking upwards to
heights where even the eye of faith is unequal to the task imposed. We catch
but shadowy "glimpses of a steep and narrow path that leads to wide and shin-
ing tablelands above." Man's nature, in its rich and varied complexity, bridges
and unites the sum total of all finite existence, and claims kindred and compan-
ionship with God. His life is but the incessant travail of an immortal spirit
wrestling with the forces which for the time imprison it, and which constitute the
battlefield of its development. " Man is not ; he has to make himself," and it is
the strange and marvellous union of these spirit forces in companionship with the
material and commonplace, that constitutes the uniqueness of his history as he
struggles to " mount from the darkness and bondage of earth to light and
liberty."

" Though inland far we be,

Our souls have sight of that immortal sea

Which brought us hither,

Can in a moment travel thither,

And see the children sport upon the shore,

And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore."

We live in daily companionship with the supernatural — that is, with that
which lies outside of merely natural causation or sequence. Strictly speaking,
our life is one o( constant surprises, but constant repetition deprives them of their
deep significance. What, but for its frequency, is more unnatural or less to be
expected than sleeping or awakening from sleep ? What greater mystery than
causation, expressed in every act of will ? Can anything more challenge our
wonder than the daily solution of problems by the mere force of intellectual
energy, solutions that in many instances have centuries and millenniums yet for
their fulfilment? What theme can more excite and enlist our curiosity than a

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

mother's undying affection for the child that death has taken from her embrace ?
In theniselves these are no less mysterious than the most unusual event recorded
in this volume.

It is not for any one of us to claim a monopoly of all that has ever entered
into human consciousness. The poet, the statesman, the orator, the man of
genius, all may live a life in many points common with ours and yet in many
respects wholly different. Their minds revolve in an orbit familiar only to the
few. It will not do for any man to make his experience the test and rule for all.

It is true that we can have a science only of that which is general and con-
stant ; but a true science is ever ready to modify its laws, and to enlarge its
hypotheses, in relation to every new fact or reasonably well authenticated truth.
No science should announce itself as finally closed and thus degenerate into
repulsive dogma. Materialism and atheism are as unscientific as they are absurd ;
and yet, what human vision has taken hold of the spirit forces of the universe, or
when has the eye of man perceived the infinite and eternal God ? Can either
one or the other be scientifically proved .-* Yet science limps and halts without
them. Demonstration is not always the highest proof, nor can it be the primal
step in knowledge. " Reality smiles at logic " in the commonest and most fre-
quent affairs of every-day life.

Did we make logic the master rather than the servant of reason, our own
experience would fall into countless contradictions. Did each of us make the
facts of our own consciousness the limit of all, then history, science, literature,
politics and art would be our overwhelming condemnation, for they have a breadth
and depth that we have but imperfectly realized. These things should teach us
caution ; while the record of those who may justly challenge respect for the
highest scholarship shows that they have been the most modest in their preten-
sions, the most charitable in their judgments, and the least disposed to dogmatize
in relation to the final solution of problems that reach out into the unseen.

Within the last decade the interest awakened in psychical studies is some-
thing phenomenal. The introspection of earlier days has been largely superseded
by modern scientific methods. The " Psychical Research Society" — founded in
1882 — has already accomplished much in its careful and critical investigation
of mesmeric, psychical and spiritualistic phenomena. Already we have many
remarkable cases vouched for, after having been subjected to tests that should
satisfy even the most sceptical.

Principal Austin has put before us, in this very interesting volume, some
remarkable and apparently well-authenticated experiences. In many instances
they rest upon the testimony of men whose integrity, candor and judgment are
unquestionable. Whatever may be our explanation of them we must admit that
they open most interesting chapters in the psychical life of man ; and cannot fail
to press upon us still more effectually the great Socratic exhortation — " know
thyself" — the first rule and the final fruit of all true mental activity.

Victoria University, January jrd, i8g8.

CHAPTER I.

Dreams.

Introductory Essay by the Editor.

REAMS may be classed among the most curious and

mterestmg

I J phenomena of our mentalhfe. From the earhest times to the present
they have been subjects for study and reflection upon the part of
philosophers, and of special interest to the religious because of the wide-spread
belief in the dream as a method of divine revelation. In the earlier times the
materials and methods for a scientific study of dreams were wanting, and hence
dreams were generally regarded either as objective realities or as revelations
from God or communications from spiritual beings. To-day from the rapid
advance of scientific enquiry into the structure and workings of the brain and
nervous system, the careful collection of data from trustworthy sources and by
experiment, it is possible to arrive at more rational views of the nature, origin
and significance of dreams. The reader who is especially interested will
find somewhat exhaustive and very instructive articles outlining the different
theories of dreams, ancient and modern, in the Encyclopaedia Britannica and in
McClintock and Strong's Encyclopaedia. For much of the information given in
this chapter the editor is indebted to these authorities.

Before passing in review some of the chief characteristics of dreams and the
various theories propounded by the philosophers, one observation may be
pertinent as to the effect of dreaming on life's enjoyment. When we consider
the large portion of time spent in sleep and the multitude of dreams the average
per^onhas in a year, it becomes an interesting enquiry whether dreams add to or
subtract from the amount of life's enjoyment. In this respect dreams may be
classed as enjoyable, indifferent and disagreeable. In what proportion do these
various classes of dreams come to us ? The great majority of people dream, and
I am convinced that to the healthy person most dreams are pleasing. In the aver-
age dream there seems to be little to tax the mind or excite unpleasant emotions,
but on the contrary a pleasing succession of mental images, mostly visual,
which float serenely over the mind's horizon as the fleecy clouds pass over an
August sky. Life's joys and sorrows are lived over again ; new experiences
apparently are introduced ; most vivid impressions are sometimes made which
remain a lifetime ; and life's burden and cares seem the easier borne by reason
of the mental relaxation of pleasing dreams.

GLIMl'SES OF THE UNSEEN.

; I

•'Dreams in their development have breath
And tears, and tortures and the touch of joy;
They have a weight upon our \vai<ing thoughts,
They take a weight from off our waking toils,
They do divide our being,"

The main difference between our sleeping and waking thoughts appears
in this that in the former case the perceptive faculties of the mind (the sensational
powers [not their organs; see Butler, Analogy, pt. I., c. i.] and the imagination
which combines the impressions derived from them) are active, while the
reflective powers (the reason or judgment by which we control those impressions,
and distinguish between those which are imaginary or subjective and those which
correspond to, and are produced by, objective realities) are generally asleep.
Milton's account of dreams (in Par. Lost, V, loo-i 13.) seems as accurate as it
is striking. Thus it is that the impressions of dreams are in themselves vivid,
natural and picturesque, occasionally gifted with an intuition beyond our
ordinary powers, but strangely incongruous and often grotesque ; the emotion
of surprise or incredulity, which arises from a sense of incongruity, or of
unlikeness to the ordinary course of events, being in dreams a thing unknown.
The mind seems to be surrendered to that power of association by which, even
in its waking hours, if it be inactive and inclined to "musing," it is often carried
through a series of thoughts connected together by some vague and accidental
association, until the reason, when it starts again into activity, is scarcely able
to trace back the slender line of connection. The difference is that, in this
latter case, we are aware that the connection is of our own making, while in
sleep it appears to be caused by an actual succession of events. Such is usually
the case ; yet there is a class of dreams, seldom noticed, and, indeed, less
common, but recognized by the experience of many, in which the reason is not
wholly asleep. In these cases it seems to lock on as it were from without, and
so to have a double consciousness : on the one hand we enter into the events of
the dream, as though real ; on the other we have a sense that it is but a dream,
and a fear lest we should awake and its pageant should pass away. In either
case the ideas suggested are accepted by the mind in dreams at once and
inevitably, instead of being weighed and tested, as in our waking hours. But
it is evident that the method of such suggestion is still undetermined, and, in
fact, is no more capable of being accounted for by any single cause than the
suggestion of waking thoughts. The material for these latter is supplied either
by ourselves, through the senses, the memory, and the imagination, or by other
men, generally through the medium of words or, lastly, by the direct action of
the Spirit of God, or of created spirits of orders superior to our own, or the
epirit within us. So also it is in dreams. In the first place, although memory and

DREAMS.

•S

imagination supply most of the material of dreams, yet physical sensations of
cold and heat, of pain or of relief, even actual impressions of sound or of light
will often mould or suggest dreams, and the physical organs of speech will
occasionally be made use of to express the emotions of the dreamer. In
the second place, instances have been known where a few words whispered into
a sleeper's ear have produced a dream corresponding to their subject. On these
two points experience gives undoubted testimony ; as to the third, it can, from
the nature of the case, speak but vaguely and uncertainly. The Scripture
declares, not as any strange thing, but as a thing of course, that the influence
of the Spirit of God upon the soul extends to its sleeping as well as its waking
thoughts. .L declares that God communicates with the spirit of man directly
in dreams, and also that he permits created spirits to have a like communication
with it. Its declaration is to be weighed, not as an isolated thing but in
connection with the general doctrine of spiritual inlluciice, because of the
general theory of the origination of all thought." (Smitii.)

Homer believed that the dream came from Jove. Aristotle, however, held
I'l.at every object of sense jiroduced a certain mental impression which remained
afier the object passed away and which, i)eing recognized by the perceptive
faculty in sleep, gave rise to the various images of the dream. There can be
little doubt that the best modern thought regards dreams mainlv as a
reimbodiment of thoughts we have had before. While this is true of the vast
majority of our dreams we are far from limiting the powers of the mind in
dreaming to revival of past impressions. The spiritual nature seems open while
we dream to both earth and heaven — to our past experiences, and in some cases,
seems to have prophetic insight into the future. The soul is impressible
through the senses by surrounding objects while we dream, and in particular
cases, seems to perceive what is distant and be "out of the body." No one
who believes the J-Ioly Scriptures can doubt for a moment that as "heaven lies
all around us in our infancy " so in our dreams our spiritual natures are opened
heavenward.

" It must be observed that, in accordance with the principle enunciated by
Paul in I. Cor. xiv. 15, dreams, in which the understanding is asleep, are
recognized indeed as a method of divine revelation, but placed below the visions
of prophecy, in which the understanding plays its part. It is true that the book
of Job, standing as it does on the basis of 'natural religion,' dwells on dreams
and 'visions of deep sleep' as the chosen method of God's revelation of himself
to man {see Job iv. 13; vii. 14; xxxiii. 15). But in Num. xii. 6; Deut. xiii.
i> 3) 55 J^^^- xxvii. 9; Joel ii. 28, etc., dreamers of dreams, whether true or
false, are placed below 'prophets,' and even below ' diviners'; and similarly in
the climax of I Sam. xxviii. 6, we read that ' the Lord answered Saul not,
neither by dreams nor by Urim [by symbol], nor by prophets.' "

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Under the Christian dispensation, while we frequently read of trances and
visions dreams are not referred to as regular vehicles of divine reve-
lation. In exact accordance with this principle are the actual records of
the dreams sent by God. The greater of such dreams were granted, for
prediction or for warnings to those who were aliens to the Jewish covenant.
Thus we have the record of the dreams of Abimelech (Gen. xx. 3-7), Laban
(Gen. xxxi. 24), of the chief butler and baker (Gen. xi. 5), of Pharaoh (Gen.
xii. 1-8), of the Midianite (Judg. vii. 13), of Nebuchadnezzar (Dan. li. i; etc.
iv. 10-18), of the Magi (Matt. ii. 12), and of Pilate's wife (Matt, xxvii. 19).
Many of these dreams, moreover, were symbolical and obscure, so as to recjuire
an interpreter. Again, where dreams are recorded as means of God's revelation
to his chosen servants, they are almost always referred to the periods of their
earliest and most imperfect knowledge of Him. So it is in the case of Abraham
(Gen. XV, 12 and perhaps 1-9), of Jacob (Gen. xxviii. 12-15), o^ Joseph (Gen.
xxxvii. 5-10), of Solomon (I. Kings iii. 5), and, in the New Testament, a similar
analogy prevails in the case of the otherwise uninspired Joseph (Matt. i. 20 ;
ii. 13, 19, 22). It is to be observed, moreover, that they belong to the earliest
age, and become less frequent as the revelations of prophecy increase. The
only exception to this (at least, in the Old Testament) is found in the dreams
and 'visions of the night' given in Daniel (ii. 19; vii. i), apparently in order to
put to shame the falsehoods of the Chaldaian belief in prophetic dreams and in
the power of interpretation, and yet to bring out the truth latent therein (comp.
Paul's miracles at Ephesus, Acts xix. 11, 12, and their effect, 18-20).

" The general conclusion therefore is, first, that the scripture claims the
dream, as it does every other action of the human mind, as a medium through
which God may speak to man either directly, that is, as we call it, 'providentially,'
or indirectly in virtue of a general influence upon all his thoughts ; and, second-
ly, that it lays far greater stress on that divine influence by which the under-
standing also is affected, and leads us to believe that as such influence extends
more and more, revelation by dreams, unless in very peculiar circumstances,
might be expected to pass away." — (Smith.)

"Dreams," says Sully in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, "are a variety of a
large class of mental phenomena which may be roughly defined as states of
mind which, though not the result of the action of external objects, resume the
form of objective perceptions." In this class he places "fleeting images" of
waking hours, the "visions" of certain exalted emotional conditions, as in
ecstacy, hallucination, hypnotism. Dreaming is distinguished from the others
of this class by a complete withdrawal of the mind from the external world. In
normal sleep the avenues by which external impressions are conveyed to the
consciousness are closed, and the mechanism by which the mind regulates its
relations with the external world is shut off.

ORKAMS.

•I

One of the common characteristics of dreams is their apparent objectivity.
We see or think we see the persons and places dreamed of, and these appear
to us as real persons and places. Yet there is much of difference between
actual vision and the vision of the dream. There is, for example, a great con-
fusion of the order of time, space, etc., which holds amonj; real objects. Then
the objects and scenes assume a greatly exaggerated intensity. The large
becomes larger, the ugly becomes hideous, the beautiful becomes entrancing in
our dreams. In some dreams we are passive spectators: in others we are the
chief actors. In some dreams the most unreasonable things occur without in the
slightest degree impressing their unreasonableness upon us. Sometimes the
dreamer's identity is lost or he imagines himself another person. In other
dreams the ordinary powers of reflection and reasoning seem to be in normal
condition.

As an illustration of the nonsensical and impossible events which do not
impress their absurdity upon the dreamer, the editor, years ago, dreamed the
following : I was, it seemed to me, walking upon the main street of Belleville
in company with a college mate with whom I was on terms of intimacy and
closest friendship, the Rev. J. V. Our pleasing conversation was soon inter-
rupted by a sudden and most violent quarrel, in which my indignation and
wrath rose to an unwonted height (I can still feel the surges of that tide of anger
in my breast) and I seized him by the neck with one hand, with which 1 seemed
somehow able to encircle his neck, gave his head a sudden twist from his
body and threw it into the gutter. I walked on with head erect, a feeling of
pride in my achievement and a sense of well-merited punishment administered.
These feelings continued until I had reached the end of the block, when sud-
denly the thought of Mrs. V. intruded itself upon me, and with this came the
thought of her displeasure at me for my hasty and intemperate conduct. The
more I thought of it the more penitent I became; and on turning off Main
Street to Bridge Street what was my surprise, and I may add pleasure, to meet
my friend smiling and apparently none the worse for his drastic punishment.
" Why, Mr. V.," said I, " I am delighted to meet you. I did not think you
would be able to be out." '• O, yes," said he, pleasantly enough, '* I am quite
recovered." " Well," said I, " How did you get your head fastened on
again ? " •• O," said he rather carelessly, as though it were an easy and trivial
thing, " I just picked it up and put it on its proper place." And did it grow on
securely again } " I said. " Without the slightest dilTiculty," said he. " Well,"
I responded, " I am certai ly glad of it, for I thought after twisting your head
off, that Mrs. V. would not like it."

Another distinction between the dream and mental operations in a waking
state is "the extreme rapidity with which the mental operations are performed,
or, rather, with which the material changes on which the ideas depend, are

•K r.LIMI'SKS OF THE UNSEEN.

excited in the hemispherial ganjj^lia. It would appear as if a whole series of
acts that would really occupy a lo;ij^ lapse of time, pass ideally throu^^h the
mind in an instant. We have in dr<:ams no true perception of the lapse of time
— a stranj^e property of mind ; for if such be its property when entered into the
eternal, disembodied state, time will appear to us eternity. The relations of
space as well as of time are also annihilated ; so that while almost an eternity is
compressed into a moment, infinitii space is traversed more swiftly than by real
thought. "--Dr. I'orbes W'inslow.

Tniv Varioi's Mf.tmods ok I-'mm.w mion,

The various methods of explaiiiin}^^ dreams may l»e resolved into four :
(a) The dream as an objective experience. (/>) The dream as a communication
from a supernatural being, (c) The dream as a subjective phenomenon depend-
ent on natural causes. (</) The modern theory of dreams.

With rcgartl to the llrst. it may be s.iid that the savage mind regards
tlreaiiiiiig as no U.'ss real an ol)j(;ctive e.\|)(:rience than waking. riie jx-rsons
and objt-'cts which Hit Ix.'fore tiu; fancy of th(r primitive man in dreams, lie regards
as r(;al material existe-nces. lie believes that in dreaming the soul quits the
body and goes to the particular loc.dit)- indicated in his driams. Mr. Spencer
uses this fact — though w(; think- illogically — to explain the earliest theories of
another world or spi">'tual state.

In the second method the dream is regarded as a revcilation or im^ssage
from some actual divine personage, ami so, in this sense, also objective. The
essence of the dream lit:s in the fact that it conveys sonit; command or prohil)i-
tion which the divine personage wishes the dreamer to know and h'-cd. In
some cases the deity is represented as sending a m(;ssenger to the dreauK-'r; in
other cases a voice is heard in command or prohibition, .ind in others a mere
impression of the divine will is supposed to be impressed on the dreanu-r's mind-
In some cases the dreams were clear and intelligible; in others, obscure, and
recpiiring the aid of an interpreter.

In Homer, dreams are sent by the gods and goddesses, sometimes to
instruct, sometimes to deceive. The prescience of Clytemncestra concerning the
fall of Troy is represented as the result of a dream. Plato believed in a divine
manifestation to the soul in sleep. In the Tiiiueits the prophetic visions are
represented as given in sleep. The Stoics reasoned that if the gods love men,
and are omniscient and all-powerful, they certainly must disclose their purposes
to men in sleep. The divine origin of dreams became a doctrine of the early
Christian Church, and was defended by the fathers on biblical as well as classical
authority.

In medieval and later times, dreams were referred not only to God and the
devil, but also to subordinate beings such as the fairy, fiend, and incubus.

DRKAMS.

•5

There has been jjrachially growing uj) from an early period a more scientific
conception of the phenomenon of the dream as dtpeiulinj^ on natural law (of
mind and body). The first ji^erms of this scientific theory are to be fouiul in
ancient times. Democritiis, from whom the I'lpicureans derived their theory,
held that dreams are the |)roduct of simulacra or phantasms of corporeal objects
which are constantly (loatinj^ in the atmosph(!r(!. ami which attack the soul in
repose. IMato, in the Republic, speaks of dreams as illustratiiif^ the dominant
mental habits and impulses. Aristotle's view we have already noted. Cicero,
in I)e /)ivinationf, rejects completely the doctrine of the supernatural ori^jin of
dreams.

Hippocrates, whilst admittiiij^ tho possibility of a divine orij^nn to some;
dreams, contends that others sprinj^f from the natural action of iiiiiul and body.
He also declares that dreams announce beforehand the affections of the body.
This view is larj^ely accepted by medical num to-day.

The modern tluiory of dreainiiijj^ pr(!S(!nts some vari(.'ty of vi<nvs. It stanils
midway between the extreme materialistic hjpotixisis, which reiL^ards drc:;iins as
the outcome of physical chamL^es, and the extrcMiie spiritualistic hypothesis,
which rejj^ards dreams as tliti products of spiritual lacullies not involved in the
sleep of the body and its senses.

Several interestin*^ eiupiiries arise to which we must i^nv(; l)ri(;f att«Mition.
What is the relation of dreamiuij to sleep ? Is dreaminj^r an iiulicaiioii of imperfect
sleep? Do we always dream when we sleep? Descartes, held that the u.iud was
always active, and hence that we must always dream wIkmi we sl(;ep. Lock**,
combatt(;d this view. Leibnitz, upheld the Cart<;sian view, mainlaininj;' that
during sleep the miiul has always some "little' i)erctq)tions " or " confusi.-d senti-
ments." Kant, and Sir William lUimiltou maintained the same view.

Many physiologists, however, ret^ard dreaming as the accom[)aiiiin(Mn of
some slight disturbance, whether arisint^ from the lower or*j^ans, or an uiulue
excitability of the brain. The idea of perfectly unconscious slee[) presiMits no
(.lilTiculty to the physiologist, experiment has shown him that the lower botlily
(vetjetative) functions are independent of cerebral activity, and the pht-nomena
of swooning and the effects of an:csthetics familiarize him with the tem[jorary
suspension of conscious activity of the brain. Hence the view that dreaming is
only an occasional incident of sleep.

As to the causes and conditions of dreams, metaphysicians have endea\'oured
to account for them on the theory of the temporary cessation of some mental
faculty — others, as the result of simple bodily operations. A large number of
writers endeavour to find in the suspension of the will an explanation of the
nature of dreams. Others have endeavoured to explain their phenomena by the
unimpeded action of some special mental faculty.

As to the sources of supply to that ever-renewed current of the dream — in

»6

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Other words, dream materials — we believe the internal depths of the mind itself
furnish much of the supply, whilst the stimulation from the various bodily organs,
doubtless, furnish much dream material. These sources are classified by Hart-
ley : — I St, Impressions and ideas lately received ; 2nd, Present state of the body
(especially the stomach and brain) ; 3rd, Association.

With regard to the vast majority of dreams, there will be little fault found
with Mr. Hartley's classification. It is in our view, however, by no means ex-
haustive. We believe that in earlier days, God spake in a dream to men words
of instruction, of command, and warning, and we see no reason why He should
not for His own glory and His creatures' good, speak to men to-day in dream
and vision.

It may be found that all such revelation is, indeed, in harmony with law — the
higher spiritual laws of His government, but dimly seen and imperfectly under-
stood to-day — as it will doubtless be found that all answer to prayer and all the
operations of divine grace are in accordance with a higher law — yet the facts
of revelation, of answer to prayer, and of divine grace, will never pass away.
We invite the reader's attention to the following testimonies as to dreams, and
leave the interpretation of the dream to himself.

WARNED BY A DREAM.
'• In a dream, in a vision of the night," Job 33 : 15.

The following remarkable incident was given me by a very reliable young
woman attending Alma Ladies' College, St. Thomas, Ontario, in the dining-room
of that institution, on Saturday, January 9th, 1897. The subject of conversation
turned upon remarkable mental experiences, dreams, etc., when Miss Minnie
McDonald, of Duluth, Minn., said, " Did I ever tell you, Dr. Austin, of the
strange incident that happened to my father and his comrades in the wilds of
Michigan many years ago when he was lumbering? " On being answered that I
had never heard it, Miss McDonald gave substantially, the following story :

My father, William McDonald, Esq., and several men, were prospecting for

lumber in the winter of , in Northern Michigan. The snow was very deep,

and they had formed a camp several days' march from any inhabited neighbor-
hood, and stored it with provisions for the winter. From this camp it was their
custom to make excursions of several days' duration in different directions, re-
turning when their supplies were almost exhausted, to the camp for shelter, rest,
and fresh supplies. During these absences, the camp and all their stores were
left in char<Te of one man, a halt-breed, in whom they had implicit confidence.
At nightfall, when on their excursions, they met in some convenient place, and
with their wraps about them slept in the open air.

One of the company, which at this time numbered four, was a very devout

DREAMS.

•»

and religious man, who would never commit himself to sleep without kneeling
before his God, even in the depth of the snow, to commend himself and his
comrades to the divine protection. On the occasion referred to, they had gone
some distance from the camp, and been gone several days. The stock of pro-
visions was low and scarcely sufficient for another day, yet as they desired to
explore some other parts of that territory before returning, it was decided at the
evening conference, before retiring, to continue their journey one day more, and
to trust to have strength sufficient to reach their camp on the return journey the
day following. They retired to ••est in the usual way, our devout friend kneeling
to worship in the deep snow. Before dawn, they were aroused by this man, who
was apparently very mu^h frightened by a dream or vision he had experienced
through the night, and which left its deep impression upon him, his countenance
being pallid with fear, and his eyes having that scared expression which might
be supposed to result from some supernatural sight. On being questioned, he
declared that they must at once return to the camp. He even urged their
starting that very instant, and then went on to explain that some danger threat-
ened the camp and that they must instantly return ; " for," said he, " I saw
a human skeleton standing near the camp and pointing at it with his bony
finger."

As Mr. McDonald and the rest of his comrades were very anxious to com-
plete their work in that region to avoid the necessity of returning and very
loathe to follow his advice — which seemed to spring from a disordered imagina-
tion rather than from reason — they endeavored to persuade their comrade that
the camp was not in any danger and that he had simply been frightened by a
bad dream. It was useless. He insisted on an immediate return, and to please
him they started back to the camp.

On arrival at the camp they found, mdeed, the grim spectre of famine over
it — for their half-breed guardian had betrayed their stores to the Indians, and
the camp was rifled of its stores. Within, without, there was nothing to ward
ofif the pangs of hunger save a beef bone almost entirely stripped of meat. Their
own supplies were now about gone and they were several days' weary march
from any other base of supplies. So they set resolutely at work to prepare
what remained, and stood between them and starvation. Out of the bone they
made some soup, and of the little remaining meal they made five small meal
cakes, and with this store started upon their long trip. So carefully did they
expend their scanty provisions that they had almost ended the journey when
the strength of one of their comrades gave way, and after writing his name and
some brief account of their common misfortunes they pinned it to his clothing
and left him in the forest. Farther on the strength of a second gave way, and
he was similarly treated; and his comrades left him, h\'\ little expecting to see
him again.

;!i

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Mr. McDonald and the remaining companion were able, however, to reach
a human habitation ; and, securing food and assistance, they went back and
happily rescued their perishing comrades.

Now, how did this devout mind come to conceive so singular and yet so
appropriate a spectre pointing to the camp ? Why did it produce so powerful
an impression ? Whence originated the abiding conviction in his mind that it
was necessary to return to the camp, and at once ? What would have been the
fate of the camp — if this dream or vision had not been experienced ? Can any
one doubt.-* Here are some curious problems. Was the dream a divine reve-
lation ? Or did it come by some mental suggestion from another human mind
{that of the half-breed) since some physiologists hold that in dreams mind
communes with mind 1 If a revelation, directly from God, or indirectly
through suggestion of some other mind, why did this devout man receive it
rather than the others ?

A DREAM REVEALING AN EVENT AT A DISTANCE.

My uncle, the Rev. Wm. Lund, spent several years in South Africa. On
one occasion his horse fell under him and broke his thigh. My mother on the
same day, and at probably the same hour, dreamt that she saw her brother on
horseback and that a serious accident happened, the exact nature of which she
could not explain. She told us the incident next morning at the bteakfast
table, and a memo, was made of the date. The first mail from Cape Colony
brought tidings of the mishap, for which the dream had somewhat prepared us.

Kev. Wm. Kettlewhll.

Paris, Ont.

A REMARKABLE DREAM.

The distinguished author of tiie Waverley Novels published the following
anecdote which he considered authentic :

Mr. R., of Bowland, a gentleman of landed property in the vale of Gala,
was prosecuted for a considerable sum, the accumulated arrears of teind (or
tithe) for which he was said to be indebted to a noble family, the titulars (lay
impropriators of the tithes). Mr. R. was strongly impressed with the belief
that his father had, by a form of process peculiar to the laws of Scotland, pur-
chased these teinds from the titular, and, therefore, that the present prosecution
was groundless. But, after an industrious search among his father's paper.-', an
investigation of the public records, and a careful inquiry among all persons who
had transacted law business for his father, no evidence could be recovered to
support his defence. The period was now near at hand when he conceived the
loss of his k.wsuit to be inevitable, and he had formed the determination to
ride to Edinburgh next day and make the best bargain he could in the way of

DREAMS.

compromise, lie went to bed with this resolution, and, with all the circum-
stances of the case iloatint^ upon his mind, had a dream to the following pur-
pose : His father, who had been many years dead, appeared to him, bethought,
and asked him why he was disturbed in his mind. In dreams men are not sur-
prised at such apparitions. Mr. R. thought that he informed his father of the
cause of his distress, adding that the payment of a considerable sum of money
was the more unpleasant to him because he had a strong consciousness that it
was not due, though he was unable to recover any evidence in support of his
belief. " You are right, my son," replied the paternal shade ; " I did acquire
right to these teinds, for payment of which you are now prosecuted. The

papers relating to the transaction are m the hands of Mr. , a writer (or

attorney), who is now retired from professional business, and resides at Inver-
esk, near Edinburgh. He was a person whom I employed on that occasion
for a particular reason, but who never, on any occasion, transacted business on

my account. It is very possible," pursued the vision, ''that Mr. may

have forgotten the matter, which is now of a very old date ; but you may
call it to his recollection by this token, that, when I came to pay his account,
there was difficulty in getting change for a Portugal piece of gold, and that we
were forced to drink out the balance at a tavern."

Mr. R. awakened in the morning with all the words of the vision imprinted
on his mind, and thought it worth while to ride across the country to Inveresk,
instead of going straight to Edinburgh. When he came there he waited on the
gentleman mentioned in the dream, a very old man ; without saying anything
of the vision, he enquired whether he remembered having conducted such a
matter for his deceased father. The old gentleman could not at first bring the
circumstance to his recollections ; but, on mention of the Portugal piece of
gold, the whole returned upon his memory. He made an immediate search for
the papers and recovered them — so that Mr. R. carried to Edinburgh the
documents necessary to gain the cause which he was on the verge of losing.

There is every reason to believe that this very interesting case is referable
to the principle lately mentioned — that the gentleman had heard the circum-
stances from his father, but had entirely forgotten them until the frequent and
intense application of his mind to the subject with which they were connected
at last gave rise to a train of associations which recalled them in a dream.

A DREAM, IT IS SAID, REVEALS HIDDEN MONEY.

The following account of a remarkable dream is from Chicago Chronicle
of March 8th, 1897. It also appeared in many other papers in nearly similar
form : Miss Gertie Tressler, of Knoxville, had a dream that so impressed
itself upon her mind that she followed the instructions the next day, and in the
rear of the yard found buried under a tree a tin can containing $600. She

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

confesses to have dreamed of the money before, but her visions were so intangi-
ble that she could not locate it. The family are at a loss to know how the
money came in the yard, and the only explanation the young woman will hazard
on the subject is that it was placed there by an uncle, now dead, who revealed
its hiding place to her in the dream. The money was in gold coins of $20
denominations mostly, and will be used to give her a college education.

DREAMS CONTROLLED BY SUGGESTKJN.

h. I

Abercrombie, in his work on the Intellectual Powers gives the following
account of a case where dreams were controlled by suggestions made in whispers
to the dreamer: "I find the particulars in the paper of Dr. Gregory, and they
were related to him by a gentleman who witnessed them. The subject of it
was an ofiicer in the expedition to Louisburg, in 1758, who had this peculiarity
in so remarkable a degree that his companions in the transport were in the
constant habit of amusing themselves at his expense. They could produce
in him any kind of dream, by whispering into his ear, esperially if this was by
a friend with whose voice he was familiar. At one time, they conducted him
through the whole progress of a quarrel, which ended in a duel ; and when the
parties were supposed to be met, a pistol was put into his hands, which he
fired, and was awakened by the report. On another occasion, they found him
asleep on the top of a locker or bunker in the cabin, when they made him
believe he had fallen overboard, and exhorted him to save himself by swimming.
He immediately imitated all the motions of swimming. Then they told him
that a shark was pursuing him, and entreated him to dive for his life. He
instantly did so, with such force as to throw himself entirely from the locker
upon the cabin floor, by which he was much bruised, and awakened of course.
After the landing of the army at Louisburg, his friends found him one day
asleep in his tent, and evidently much annoyed by the cannonading. They then
made him believe that he was engaged, when he expressed great fear, and showed
an evident disposition to run away. Against this they remonstrated, but, at the
same time, increased his fears by imitating the groans of the wounded and the
dying ; and, when he asked, as he often did, who was down, they named
his particular friends. At last they told him t^at tne man next himself in tne
line had fallen, when he instantly sprung from his bed, rushed out of the tent,
and was roused from his danger and his drean: together by falling over the
tent ropes. A remarkable circumstance in this case was, that, after these
experiments, he had no distinct recollection of his dreams, but only a confused
feeling of oppression or fatigue, and used to tell his friends that he was sure
they had been playing some trick on him."

A case entirely similar is related in Smellie's "Natural History," the subject
of which was a medical student at the University of Edinburgh.

DREAMS.

A YOUNG man's DREAM AND ITS FULFILMENT.

The followinj^ account is given by the Rev. Dr. Buckley in his interesting
work on Faith Healing, Christian Science and Kindred Phenomena :

•' An acquaintance of mine, a young man nineteen years of age, a student
in a large seminary about sixty miles from New York, was strongly attached to
a teacher who died, to the great grief of the student. Some time afterward the
young man dreamed that the teacher appeared to him and notified him that he
would die on a certain day and hour. He informed his mother and friends of
the dream and expressed a firm belief that when the time came he rliould
die. They considered it a delusion ; and as no alarming change took place in
his health, they were not anxious. When the day arrived, they noticed nothing
unusual ; but after dining and seeming to enjoy the meal and to be quite
cheerful, he went to his room, lay down, and died without a struggle."

This may be taken as a fair sample of a great multitude of dreams which
appear to be at first sight prophetic in character, but on closer study contain
nothing which cannot be accounted for by the laws of m ital life. One may
well ask on reading it if the coming event of the young man's death cast its
shadow before in the form of a dream, or if the vivid dream caused the young
man's death by generating a faith in his death at a certain hour, which resulted
naturally in death.

A DREAM WHICH REVEALS A MURDER AND LEADS TO THE EXECUTION

OF THE MURDERER.

The following story is given by the celebrated Biblical authority, Dr.
Kitto:

'* A young woman was murdered in a barn and buried under the floor.
She was thought by all who concerned themselves about her to be still alive in
another place ; and the murder remained not only undiscovered, but unsus-
pected at the time, when the young woman's mother was warned repeatedly
in a dream to search the barn. She did so. The murder was thus dis-
covered, and the murderer (Corder) condemned and executed. Now, from
what other cause than a supernatural action upon the mind of the mother
could this dream have been produced?"

A DREAM REVEALING CLAIRVOYANT POWER.

The following incident given by Abercrombie in his worK on The Intel-
lectual Powers is one of a large class revealing clairvoyant power on the part of
the dreamer: "A gentleman in Edinburgh was affected with aneurism of the
popliteal artery, for which he was under the care of two eminent surgeons, and
the day was fixed for the operation. About two days before the time ap-
pointed for it, the wife of the patient dreamt that a change had taken place in

■H

GLIMPSES OF THK UNSICKN.

the disease, in consequence of which the operation would not hv rcniuired. On
examiniiifj; the tumor in the mornin<j;, the j^entleman was astonished to find
that the pulsation had entirely ceased ; and, in short, this turned out to be a
spontaneous cure. To persons, not professional, it may he rij^ht to mention
that the cure of popliteal aneurism without .m operation is a very uncommon
occurrence, not happening in one out of numerous instances, and never to be
looked ujion as probable in any individual case. It is likely, however, that
the lady had heard of the possibility of such teimination, and that Ikt anxiety
had very naturally embodied this into a dream ; the fulfilment of it at the very
time when the event took place is certainly a very remarkable coincidence."

A DKKAM WHICH IS SAID TO HAVE REVIiALKO A (lOLD MINK.

The following account of a remarkable dreaivi is taken from the Pitt?burg
Despatch of February 8th, 1897, '^"^ appeared with slight variations in a number
of leading papers of the United States during the same month :

" To dream of a gold mine in a distant part of the country, and from such
data to locate the claim among huhdreds of others, is a piece ot luck that the
oldest prospector would hardly dare to hope for.

Yet a woman living 200 miles from that El Dorado known to the outer
world as Cripple Creek, following the dictates of a seven-times-repeated vision,
has succeeded in doing this very thing, and is to-day operating one of the
most successful mines in the whole district.

Seven consecutive times did Mrs. Law dream of the same place. In each
vision appeared a tall pine, towering above the surrounding forest, and a deep
ravine, with a stream of silvery water winding through it, deep sunk between
two mountains. These mountains seemed characteristic of the country. They
were abrupt peaks rising high above the surrounding foot hills, outlined gray
and cold against a bright blue sky. But direction to take to find them Mrs.
Law had no idea.

The first time this vision — for it was more than a dream — -came to her she
was sleeping upon a couch in her home in K..nsas City, Mo., one hot afternoon
last summer. She paid no attention to it then, nor did a repetition which came
to her a few weeks after, cause her any particular thought. But when, a month
later, this same scene presented itself in her sleep she remarked upon the
coincidence to her husband — who, with thai* contempt which all men feel for
women's dreams, merely ridiculed the matter. The following night, however,
Mrs. Law again dreamed of the lone pine tree, the winding stream, the twin
mountains, and the blue sky, and she now urged her husband to seek this
visionary land of wealth, but he laughed at her for taking the matter seriously-
But the dream, whatever its origin, was singularly persistent ; and not long
after this unknown country once more appeared in the slumbers of Mrs. Law.

DREAMS.

Then, after some days of consideration, she told a woman friend of her strange
experience.

Mrs. I'Vances I. Carr was more interested and impressed than Mrs. Law's
liusbaiid had been, and she, with Mrs. Law, attempted the orj^'ani^ation of a
stoclv company. Never, jirobably, was a company started under more unaus-
picous circumstances. A few enthusia.;tic persons had faith in the vision, but
none of them had tlie shghtest idea where this land of wealth was located, and
it was entirely throuj^h accident that Mrs. Law eventually discovered it.

A pleasure journey took her through Colorado. The way was long, and
the trip across the seemingly eternal flatlands had become almost intolerable,
when, suddenly, as the train was entering the foothills, as she glanced through
the car window, there arose before her astonished gaze, clear and distinct
against the blue Colorado sky, the familiar twin mountains of her vision. As
the train pursued its sinuous way there appeared before her waking eyes the
valley which she had seen so often in sleep, and through the centre flowed the
silvery belt of water v/hich had become so familiar.

" Tis the land of my dreams, my El Dorado,' exclaimed Mrs. Law.
' Gold is there, and I know it.' Her exclamations excited some comment among
the passengers, but no one thought seriously about it. But two weeks later
Mrs. Law, accompanied by two friends and her husband — who had ceased to
be skeptical — appeared on a buckboard in the vicinity of what is now the
outskirts of Cripple Creek, and with a determination not to be daunted by
difficulties, staked out a claim in the valley.

Mrs. Law was now able to organize a company, incorporated under the
name of The Dream Lode Mining Company. It was formed entirely of women,
' and a woman lawyer was employed to see that it was duly credited in Kansas
City wiih 200,000 shares at $1 each.

The Dream, as it is called, assays %8 per ton, and under improvement
gives promise of trebling that amount.

It is distinguished, not alone as the only paying mine, so far as records
show, which has been discovered through the agency of a dream, but is also
remarkable as being the only mine in Colorado owned and operated by women.
The most insignificant details of the country in which the claim is located were
known to Mrs. Law long before she ever saw Colorado. Such minutiae as the
stump of a tree blasted by lightning, hugh boulders of peculiar form, and even
the outline of the mountain slopes, had been made familiar to her by her
repeated visions.

Mrs. Law does not attempt to explain the marvellous way in which the
hidden wealth was indicated to her. She says she was never given to day-
dreams, and always prided herself as being a practical woman.

* I simply dreamed it several times in succession and that which began in a

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

' I

dream has ended in a reality,' is all she attempts to say of a fact which seems
stranger than fiction. Both she and her husband are well known in social
circles in Kansas City."

A DREAM REVEALING TELEPATHIC POWER.
Abercrombie gives a story by Mr. Joseph Tiiylor, as follows :

"A young man who was at an academy, a hundred miles from home, dreamt
that he went to his father's house in the night, tried the front door, but found
it locked ; got in by a back door, and, finding nobody out of bed, went directly
to the bedroom of his parents. He then said to his mother, whom he found
awake, * Mother, I am going a long journey, and am come to bid you good
bye.' On this she answered, under much agitation, ' Oh, dear son, thou art
dead ! ' He instantly awoke, and thought no more of his dream until, a few days
after, he received a letter from his father inquiring very anxiously after his health,
in consequence of a frightful dream his mother had on the same night in which
the dream now mentioned occurred to him. She dreamt that she heard some one
attempt to open the front door, then go around to the back door, and at last come
into her bedroom. She then saw it was her son, who came to the side of her bed
and said, ' Mother, I am going a long journey, and am come to bid you good
bye'; on which she exclaimed, ' Oh, dear son, thou art dead!' But nothing
unusual happened to either of the parties. The singular dream must have
originated in some strong mental impression which had been made on both
individuals about the same time ; and to have traced the source of it would
have been a subject of great interest."

DR. BUSHNELL's REMARKABLE DREAM.

Capt. Yount, of California, in a mid-winter's night, had a dream, in which
he saw what appeared to be a company of emigrants arrested by the snows of
the mountains, and perishing rapidly by cold and hunger. He noted the very
cast of the scenery, marked by a huge perpendicular front of white rock cliff.
He saw the men cutting off what appeared to be tree-tops rising out of deep
gulfs of snow ; he distinguished the very features of the persons, and the look
of their particular distress. He woke profoundly impressed with the distinctness
and apparent reality of his dream. At length he fell asleep, and dreamed
exactly the same dream again. In the morning he could not expel it from his
mind. Falling in shortly with an old hunter comrade, he told him the story ;
and was only more deeply impressed by his recognizing, without hesitation, the
scenery of the dream. This comrade came over the Sierra by the Carson
Valley Pass (in California), and declared that a spot in the pass answered
exactly to his description. By this the unsophisticated patriarch was decided.
He immediately collected a company of men with mules and blankets, and

DREAMS.

all necessary provisions. The neighbors were lauj^hini^ meantime at his credul-
ity." "No matter," said he, "I am able to do this, and I will; for I verily
believe that the fact is accoidinfr to my dream." The men were sent into the
mountains one hundred and fifty miles distant, directly to the Carson Valley
Pass ; and there they found the company in exactly the condition of the dream,
and brought in the remnant alive. A gentleman present, when the captain told
me, said : " You need not doubt this ; for we Californians all know the facts
and the names of the families brought in, who look upon our venerable friend as
a kind of a saviour." Their names he gave, and the places where they reside ;
and I found, afterwards, that the California people ware ready everywhere to
second this testimony.

Dr. Bushnell.

mrs. eames, of delphos, kansas, relates two remahkable dreams.

" Mr. B. F. Eames, brother of my husband, was in the Army, East, in the
cavalry as first lieutenant. I dreamed I saw him coming to me. He smiled
and pulled open his vest and showed that he had been wounded — shot in the
left lung. I said to him, * Oh, are you not afraid it will kill you.-*' and he
answered * Yes,' and seemed to walk right on as if to meet other members of the
troop. I looked after him and awoke. I felt sure that brother Ben was shot,
and told my husband in the morning, and I dated this dream. In about eight
or ten days we received a letter from Father Eames saying Ben was dead — had
been shot in the left lung — and was buried, also that they had him removed and
buried in their cemetery in West Halifax, Vt. It turned out that my dream
had taken place, the next evening after the funeral. Now where did this come
from ? No one had written me a word of it, yet I saw it clearly in this vision."

"Wm. Eames, brother of my husband, was in the Western Army. He
had been sick, and had a furlough of ninety days to come to Wisconsin to stay
with us. He stayed with us eleven weeks, then went to Father Eames in Ver-
mont, and died in about ten weeks. Our little girl, Cora, had been very sick
with the fever about this time. After the fever left her she was very poor in
flesh, and we thought she needed some flannel to keep her warm. Times were
very hard, and we had not the flannel or the money with which to buy it. So
I studied what was best for me to do under these circumstances. One night I
dreamed I saw brother William, and he told me that while he was at our home
he changed his underclothing and put on new, and, as he felt bashful about
asking me to wash the old clothing, he had rolled it up and put it out cast of

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN

U I

our house under a large oak log. He said it was good all woollen underclothing'
and would make Cora some warm underclothes. I did not look for the flannel
after my dream, but the next day my boy (seven years old) came running into
the house and said he had found a gray rabbit under a log (east of the house),
and he wanted the girl to go and help jioke him out. So the girl went out to
help him and soon returned with a bundle of gray woollen underclothing — the
very thing I had dreamed about the night before. I dated this dream, and in
about eight days we had a letter from Father Eames saying brother William
was dead. This dream came to me two days after the funeral. Now where did
this all come from ? No one knew about this woollen underclothing but brother
William, and after his death, did he come and tell me?

I used the woollen for my little girl, as it was nearly new, and of soft wool.
Father Eames had always written to us that brother was improving, and he
thought he would soon be able to return to the Army. I had no thoughts of
his being dead, but in my dream he seemed to be still stopping with us in our
home, and I thought he might go and get this underclothing. On awaking
from my dream I thought it a queer dream, as it seemed so vivid and natural."

AN ERROR IN BOOK-KEEPING RECTIFIED BY A DREAM.

Abercrombie in his work on the Intellectual Powers gives the following^
remarkable dream incident :

" The following example occurred to a particular friend of mine, and may be
relied upon in its most minute particulars. The gendeman was at the time
connected with one of the principal banks in Glasgow, and was at his place at
the teller's table, where the money is paid, when a person entered demanding
payment of a sum of six pounds. There were several people waiting, who
were, in turn, entitled to be attended to before him; but he was extremely im-
patient and rathei noisy, and, being besides a remarkable stammerer, he became
so annoying that another gentleman requested my friend to pay him his money
and get rid of him. He did so accordingly, but with an expression of im-
patience at being obliged to attend to him before his turn, and thought no more
of the transaction. At the end of the year, which was eight or nine months
after, the books of the bank could not be made to balance, the deficiency being
exactly six pounds. Several days and nights had been spent in endeavoring to
discover the error, but without success ; when at last my friend returned home
much fatigued, and went to bed. He dreamt of being at his place in the
bank — and the whole transaction with the stammerer, as now detailed, passed
before him in all its particulars. He awoke under full impression that the dream
was to lead him to the discovery of what he was so anxiously in search of ; and,

DRKAMS.

on examination, soon discovered that the sum paid to this person in the manner
now mentioned had been neglected to be inserted in the book of interests, and
that it exactly accounted for the error in the balance. This case, upon a little
consideration, will appear to be exceedingly remarkable, because the impression
called up in this singular manner, was one of which there was no consciousness
at the time when it occurred; and, consec|uently, we cannot suppose that any
association took place which could have assisted in recalling it. For the fact
upon which the importance of the case rested was, not his having paid the money,
but having neglected to insert the payment. Now, of this there was no impres-
sion made upon the mind at the time, and we can scarcely conceive on what
])rinciple it could be recalled. The deficiency being six pounds, we may, indeed,
suppose the gentleman endeavoring to recollect whether there could have been
a payment of this sum m ide in any irregular manner which could have led to an
omission, or an error; but in the transactions of an extensive bank, in a great
commercial city, a payment of six pounds, at the distance of eight or nine
months, could have made but a very faint impression ; and upon the whole, the
case presents, perhaps, one of the most remarkable mental phenomena connected
with this curious subject."

The following is of the same nature, though much less extraordinary
from the shortness of the interval ; and it may, perhaps, be considered as a
simple act of memory, though, for the same reason as in the former case, we
cannot trace any association which could have recalled the circumstance. A
gentleman who was appointed to an office in one of the principal banks in
Edinburgh, found, on balancing his first day s transactions, that the money
under his charge was deficient by ten pounds. After many fruitless attempts to
discover the cause of the error, he went home, not a little annoyed 'y the result
of his first experiment in banking. In the night he dreamt that he was in his
place in the bank, and that a gentleman, who was personally known to him, pre-,
sented a draft for ten pounds. On awaking he recollected the dream, and
also recollected that the gentleman who appeared in it had actually received ten
pounds. On going to the bank, he found that he had neglected to enter the
payment, and that the gentleman's order had by accident fallen among some
pieces of paper, which had been thrown on the floor to be swept away.

REV. JOSEPH WILKINS TELEPATHIC DREAM.

The following account of a remarkable dream is taken from " Stilling's
Pneumatology," edited by Bush, p. 240:

The late Rev. Joseph Wilkins, dissenting minister at Weymouth, dreamed,
in the early part of his life, a very remarkable dream, which he carefully preserved
in writing, as follows : " One night, soon aft^r I was in bed, I fell asleep, and

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

dreamed I vv.is going to London. I tliouf^Iit it would not be much out of my
way to go through (ilouccstershire and c;ill upon my friends thrre. Acci)rdingly
I set out, but remembered nothing that ha|)i)ened by the way, till I came to my
fatlier's house, where I went to the tront door, and tried to open it, but found it
fast. 1 then went to the l)ack door, which I opened and went in ; but finding
all the family were in bed, I went across the rooms only, went upstairs and
entered the chamber where my father and mother wen; in bed. As I went by
that side of the bed in which my father lay, I found him asleep, or thought he
was so; then I went to the other side, and just turned the foot of the bed. I
found my mother awake, to whom I said these words, • Mother, I am going
a long journey, and I come to bid you good by.' Upon this she answered me
in a fright, ' O dear son, thou art dead ! ' With this I awoke, and took no
notice of it, more than a common dream, only it appeared to me very perfect, as
some dreams wdl. But in a few days after, as soon as a letter could reach me,
I received one by post from my father, upon the receipt of which I was a little
surprised, and concluded something extraordinary must have happened, as I had
lately had a letter from my friends, and all were well. Upon opening it I was
more surprised still, for my father addressed me as though I was dead, desiring me,
if alive, or whosoever's hands the letter might fall into, to write immediately ;
but if the letter should find me living, they concluded I should not live long, and
gave this as a reason of their fears : that on such a night, naming it, after they
were in bed, my father asleep and my mother awake, she heard some one try to
open the front door; but finding it fast, he went to the back door, which he
opened, came in, and came directly through the rooms up stairs, and she perjectly
knew it to be my step. I came to her bedside and spoke to her these words,
* Mother, I am going a long journey, and am come to bid you good bye ' ; upon
which she answered me in a fright, ' O dear son, thou art dead ! ' which were
the very words and circumstances of my dream ; but she heard nothing more,
and saw nothing ; neither did I in my dream, as it was quite dark. Upon this
she awoke my father and told him what had passed ; but he endeavored to ap-
pease her by persuading her it was only a dream; she insisted it was no dream, for
that she was as perfectly awake as she ever was, and had not the least inclina-
tion to sleep since she had been in bed. From these circumstances I am apt to
think it was the very same instant when my dream happened, though the distance
between us was a hundred miles ; but of this I can not speak positively. This
occurred while I was at the academy at Ottery, Devon, in the year, 1754, and
at this distance of time, every circumstance is still fresh upon my mind. I have
since had frequent opportunities of talking over the affair with my mother, and
the whole was as fresh upon her mind as it was upon mine. I have often thought
that her sensations as to this matter were stronger than mine. What some may

DREAMS.

think stranjje, I can not reMiKMnlxT that anythinji^ remarkablr happened hereupon.
This is only a phiin, simple narrative of a matter of fact."

Mr. VVilkins died the 15th of November, 1800, in the 70th year of his age.

A DREAM REVEALlNt; CLAIRVOYANT P0WI:R.

The followinj^ very remarkable dream is related in the London, England,
Times, of August i6th, 1828:

"On the night of the nth of May, 1812, Mr. Williams of Scorrier House,
near Redrath, in Cornwall, awoke his wife, and, exceedingly agitated, told her
he had dreamed he was in the lobby of the house of commotis, and saw a man
shoot with a pistol a gentleman who had just entered the lobby, who was said
to be the chancellor : to which Mrs. Williams naturally replied, that it was only
a dream, and recommended him to be composed, and go to sleep as soon as he
could. He did so, but shortly after again awoke her, and said that he had the
second time had the same dream ; whereupon she observed, that he had been
so much agitated with his former dream, that she supposed it had dwelt on his
mind, and begged of him to try to compose himself and go to sleep, which he
did. A third time the same vision was repeated ; on which, notwithstanding her
entreaties that he would be quiet and endeavor to forget it, he arose, it being then
between one and two o'clock, and dressed himself. At breakfast, the dreams
were the sole subject of conversation; and in the forenoon Mr. Williams went to
Falmouth, where he related the particulars of them to all his acquaintance that he
met. On the following day, Mr. Tucker, of Tremanton castle, accompanied by
his wife, a daughter of Mr. Williams, went to Scorrier house about dusk.
Immediately after the first salutations, on their entering the parlor, where were
Mr., Mrs., and Miss Williams, Mr. Williams began to relate to Mr. Tucker the
circumstances of his dream; and Mrs. Williams observed to her daughter, Mrs.
Tucker, laughingly, that her father could not even suffer Mr. Tucker to be
seated, before he told him of his nocturnal visitation : on the statement of which,
Mr. Tucker observed, that it would do very well for a dream to have the
chancellor in the lobby of the house of commons, but that he would not be
found there in reality; and Mr. Tucker then asked what sort of a man he
appeared to be, when Mr. William^' minutely described him ; to which Mr.
Tucker replied : ' Your description is not at all that of the chancellor, but is
certainly very exactly that of Mr. Perceval, the chancellor of the exchequer;
and although he has been to me the greatest enemy I ever met with through
life, for a supposed cause, which had no foundation in truth (or words to that
effect), I should be exceedingly sorry indeed to hear of his being assassinated, or
of any injury of the kind happening to him.' Mr. Tucker then inquired of Mr.
Williams if he had ever seen Mr. Perceval, and was told that he never had seen
him, nor had ever even written to him. either on public or private business ; in

: I

i I

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

(

short, that he never had had anything to do with him, nor had he ever been in the
lobby of the house of commons in his life. At this moment, while Mr. Williams
and Mr. Tucker were still standing, they heard a horse gallop to the door of the
house, and immediately after, Mr. Michael Williams, of Treviner (son of Mr.
Williams of Scorrier), entered the room, and said, that he had galloped out from
Truro (from which Scorrier is distant seven miles), having seen a gentleman
there who had come by that evening's mail from London, who said that he was
in the lobby of the house of commons on the evening of the i ith, when a man
called Dillingham had shot Mr. Perceval ; and that as it. might occasion some
great ministerial changes, and might affect Mr. Tucker's political friends, he had
come out as fast as he could to make him acquainted with it, having heard at
Truro that he had passed through that place in the afternoon, on his way to
Scorrier. After the astonishment which this intelligence had created had a
little subsided, Mr. Williams described most particularly the appearance and
dress of the man that he saw in his dream fire the pistol, as he had before
done of Mr. Perceval. About six weeks after, Mr. Williams having business
in town, went, accompanied by a friend, to the house of commons, where,
as has already been observed, he had never before been. Immediately that
he came to the steps at the entrance of the lobby, he said: 'This place is
as distinctly within my recollection, in my dream, as any room in my house';
and he made the same observation when he entered the lobby. He then
pointed out the exact spot where Billinghain stood when he fired, and which
Mr. Perceval had reached when he was struck by the ball, and where and
how he fell. The dress, of both Mr. Perceval and Billingham, agreed with
the description given by Mr. Williams, even to the most minute particular."

The Times states that Mr. Williams was then alive, and the witnesses
to whom he made known the particulars of his dream, were also living ; and
that the editor had received the statement from a correspondent of unquestion-
able veracity.

A SINGULAR AND BEAUTIFUL DREAM,
liy the Editor.

Some months after the "Reaper" had gathered the fairest flower in our
home garden, who seemed to us the brightest, most beautiful, and most loving
child God ever gave to an earthly home, our Kathleen of two and one-half
years, it was a frequent subject of conversation between my wife and myself why
we never dreamed of her, and the desire was frequently expressed by my wife,
and as often felt by myself that we might once agdin behold her, if only in a
dream.

One evening I had the following singular and, to me, most beautiful and
enjoyable dream. I was riding in a long, narrow boat, which glided noiselessly
along a glassy, winding river, stretched like a silk ribbon between green and

DREAMS.

4»

flowery banks, in a land of grjves and forests. In the boat behind me sat a
friend, whose name and face I do not recall, who was noiselessly propelling with
a paddle ou * little craft. No word was spoken, the hour being given by mutual
consent to feasting our eyes upon the beauty of the ever-changing scene
around us and enjoying the music of the beautiful birds, which seemed the only
inhabitants of this paradise. The scenery grew more and more beautiful, the
music of the birds sweeter, as our little craft swept on along the serpentine
river, in and out of the shadows. Beautiful ferns lined the river bank and
dipped their tips occasionally into the smooth river at the passing zephyr, and
from them fell with musical cadence drops of water transformed by the moving
sunlight into liquid gold. Soon our little craft ran noiselessly upon a shelving
beach and we leaped to earth to view the scene before us. No sooner had I
touched the bank than my eye caught upon a tree before me, and about fifteen
or twenty feet from the ground, a small, bright object, glowing with innumerable
colors, resting on an upper branch of the tree and swinging with it in the gentle
breeze. From the flutter of tiny wings I could see it was a living creature.
From the instant I saw it I could see nothing else. It filled my thought, drew
me as a magnet, and instantly I started for the tree, seized with a strong desire
to possess this creature or view it at nearer vision. Each step its fascinating
power increased as it appeared to take on new beauty and power of enchant-
ment, so that by the time I reached the tree I was impelled with a reckless
daring to brave any necessary danger to get near the glorious creature that I
persuaded myself was awaiting my approach. Drawing near the tree I realized
there was no limb of the tree low enough for me to grasp, and so circling
around to another tree that stood close by, and without losing sight for an
instant of the object of my quest, I grasped a lower limb, then another and
another, and swung myself to the tree, and up, up, up, vith increasing speed
and agility I climbed, hand over hand, until in far less time than I can tell it I
was beside it in the tree top. As I drew near in my climbing I remembered I
could see it more and more distinctly lying placidly upon a limb, its bright
little eyes watching me and its gauze-like wings extended over its body and
vibrating gently. I remembered also that it did not strike me as at all strange
that it should thus lie perfectly quiet and await my approach. The thought
grew upon me from the instant I beheld it that for this purpose I had journeyed
to this beautiful land, and that this creature awaited me as truly as I sought it.
I was now beside it — hands seizing the two limbs on either side, my face within
a few inches of the creature and gazing with such mingled delight and admir-
ation upon it as no words can express. I began at once a most passionate
questioning as to its name and nature, and poured forth in language
that seemed, till then, beyond me, my love and devotion. Then occurred a
strange transformation. For while swaying in the tree top and uttering the

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

most impassioned language to this bright and beautiful creature of m^ dream,
suddenly the gauze-like wings extended, lengthening and widening before my
vision until they seemed large enough to cover an adult human body ; and, with
a tremulous, curling motion the wings lifted themselves up into vapour and
disappeared, and beneath them was a face and form of a maiden that appeared
half child and half woman, so perfectly were the child-like features blended
with the womanly face, and over that face and form there was a radiant beauty
such as only the imagination can paint, and that once in a life time. Face to
face were we, her long locks of golden hair glittering in the sunshine and
streaming in the breeze, her figure one over which the artist, and sculptor
and poet might dream a lifetime away ; and her voice — I heard it at last — and
the music of it will follow me to the last hour of life. ... I should fail utterly
to give the reader the faintest description of the bliss of that moment by any
attempted description. And it was but a moment — for instantly the tree broke
and I found myself on the ground again, and the vision had departed.

A DREAM : A TRANSFORMATION : A RECOGNITION.
" In a dream, in a vision of the night."— yoi xxxiii.: /j.

In the days of human childhood
When the heart of man was trustful,
And humanity, like children,
Caught the truths of God in nature
As the clear, pellucid foimtain
Takes and holds the sun's bright image,
And gives back the truth it borrows ;
When the ear of man was open
To the myriad voice of nature ;
When the soul of man could clearly
See beneath the robe of matter
The bright form of Truth and Spirit ;
Ere the babble and confusion
Of our modern mammon worshij)
Yet had dulled the ear of conscience ;
Or the clouds of guilt and sorrow
Had overcast the face of heaven,
Shutting out its light and beauty ;
God spake oft — so reads the record,
In a dream or night-time vision.
To the soul of man, so spake He,
Words of wisdom and instruction,
Words of warning and entreat}'.
Spake the Father to His children
In a dream or midnight vision.

DREAMS.

Does the great All-loving Father
Speak yet to his earthly children ?
Has He yet compassion for ns ?
Watches He our erring footsteps?
Speaks He still some word of comfort?
Or, in vision sweet and cheering,
Pictures He upon the spirit
Some old truth forgotten by us,
Or some new truth we are needing
For onr comfort or our guidance ?

Ye who doubt that God speaks truly

To the sad and sorrow laden.

In their grief and desolation,

As he spake in by-gone ages

In a dream or night-time vision,

Listen to my simple story.

It was in a time of anguish,

In an hour of deepest sorrow.

When the harp of joy was broken,

And the light of life had faded

Out of heart and home and fireside,

When our home seemed ever empty,

Missing ever the bright presence,

The sweet smile and rippling laughter.

Of our darling death had taken.

And the thousand mild enchantments

Which the cunning hands of children

Weave about their parents' heart strings.

When in earth and heaven above us,

Naught of beauty could the eye see,

Naught of joy or song of music

Could the riven heart discover ;

And the soul was ever longing

For a touch of hands that vanished.

For a sound of voice now silent,

For a iook of recognition

Of our Kathleen, our heart's treasure,

Sleeping softly in God's acre.

Oh, those hours, long and lonely !

Oh, those pangs of grief and heart ache!

Oh, those longings, which no plummec

Ever sounded in their vastness —

Who can know or understand them

Save the stricken souls of parents.

Who have seen the earth close over

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Forms the fairest in creation,
Idols of their hearts and homelife ?

In a dream and midnight vision,
Thro' a wood of lovely foliage,
Green and gold and purple blended,
On a smooth and narrow river,
Stretching like a rib\)on onward,
Curving, winding thro' the forest,
Banked by green and flowery meadow
"Where the ferns grew rich and dainty,
Dipped their tips into the water,
Trembled in the breeze of heaven,
Shook down pearly drops of water,
Glist'ning in the morning sunlight,
Failing back like notes of music,
In a boat, with one companion.
Rode I in and out the shadow,
Past the glints of morning sunlight,
Past the shadows on the river.
Past the stately forest monarchs.
Past the young and thrifty saplings,
Thro' the groves, all rendered vocal
With the joyous notes of song birds,
By the emerald banks, all fragrant
With the mint and honeysuckle.
Nurslings of the joyous springtime,
Rode I joyfully beholding
All this paradise of nature.
Scenes of beauty and enchantment
Followed each the other swiftly.
Filling every sense with pleasure.
As the boat drew near an op'ning
On a smooth and flowery headland
Paradise, it seemed, had opened
To my rapt and wond'ring spirit.
Leaping to the bank with gladness,
In this wilderness of beauty.
Soon my eye beheld above me
On a tree beside the river
On one of the topmost branches,
Something which at once attracted
All my powers of thought and vision,
A bright object, small and dazzling,
With a beauty such as never
Yet had dawned on human eyesight,

DREAMS.

Something — how shall words describe it ?
Bird of heaven ? gaudy insect
Straying from the fields supernal ?
Small it was, with wings aquiver,
Resting on one of the branches
In the thickest of the tree top,
Throwing out its rays of beauty,
Which were changing hue and glory
Every instant in the sunlight.

Strangely moved, as by a magnet,
I was drawn on unresisting
Till I stood beneath the tree top
Gazing in mute wonder on it
As it shone among the branches.
Every sight and sound about me
Faded into swift oblivion
Save this one surpassing beauty,
Beaming like a star upon me
From the branches of the tree top.

And within me rose such longing
To enjoy, at nearer vision,
All the riches of its glory
That I sprang from earth in rapture,
Caught one branch, and then another.
Springing like a bird or squirrel
Toward that beautiful enchantment
Till I found myself beside It.

Strange it seemed, my rapid climbing

Had not frightened or disturbed It 1

Stranger, still, it seemed unto me

That each instant I approached It

I believed — though strange the story —

It rejoiced to draw me hither

And to hold communication 1

By its glowing, sparkling beauty,

By the quiver of its wing tips,

By the motion of its body,

I believed it said as plainly

As if words had framed the statement,

" I am glad thou comest hither."

Soon I found me just beside It,
Hands on either side extended
Holding fast the swaying branches,
Gazing in near vision upon It

I I

(JLIMI'SES OF THE UNSEEN.

With a rapture which can never
Be e\j)ressed in human iani^uaj^e.
When at last my eyes were ravished
With this nearer view of beauty
1 discovered that Its body.
With two win'^s, Hf:;ht and transparent,
Thro' which slione the wondrous glory.
Was half covered and half hidden

Then, while gazinj^ on the vision,

All my soul went out in lonj^ing

To possess me of the secret,

Of the name, and age, and nature,

Of the history and dwelling

Of this beauteous Bird or Angel

And its thoughts and feelings towards me;

For I knew by intuition

That the beauty whirli enthralled me

Could not be of earthly fashion,

But belonged of right to heaven.

So my lips broke forth in questions,

Earnest, longing and impetuous,

Into words of love and passion

To this beauteous Bird or Angel

Resting on the branch before me,

Swaying in the soft, spring breezes

Back and forward in the tree top.

Suddenly a transformation.

As when morning mists are scattered

By the sudden glow of sunshine.

Right before my ravished eyesight.-

Lo, a glorious transformation !

For the gauze-like wings extended,

Slowly, steadily extended,

Then were lifted up like earth-mist

And had vanished in an instant !

And beneath them stood revealed

All the lovely form of woman

Clatl in raiment white and glist'ning,

All the innocence of childhood.

All perfection of the woman.

Woman-child and child-like woman;

Form and face and ev'ry feature

Moulded as by art divinest;

Eyes that shone with youthful gladness,

Cheeks that glowed with light supernal,

DREAMS.

Tresses rich and full of ^lory
Streaming in the balmy breezes,
While o'er ev'ry part and feature,
O'er her, round her, {flowed and sparkled
Such rich tints of heavenly beaufy
As no human eye had j,'laddened.

Then with words which fell like music
On my soul, intent and yearning,
Whispered she her name unto me.
• •••..«

Oh, the rapture of that moment !
Oh, the bliss, too high for language !
Who can frame speech which expresses
All the heart feels in such moments !

A DREAM REVEALING PROPHETIC POWER ON THE PART OF THE DREAMER.

The following incident is given by Abercrombie as "entirely authentic ":
" A lady dreamt that an aged female relative had been murdered by a black
servant, and the dream occurred more than once. She was then so impressed
by it that she went to the house of the lady to whom it related and prevailed
upon a gentleman to watch in an adjoining room during the following ni^ht.
About three o'clock in the morning the gentleman, hearing footsteps on the
stair, left his place of concea' lent, and met a servant carrying up a quantity
of coals. Being questioned as to where he was going, he replied, in a confused
and hurried manner, that he was going to mend his mistress' fire which, at three
o'clock in the morning, in the middle of summer, was evidently impossible •
and, Oil further investigation, a strong knife was found concealed beneath the
coals."

A DREAM SHOWING CLAIRVOYANT POWER,

When a boy of ten I had a peculiar dream. My father had a steel wedge
for spl- ting hard wood. This wedge was, because of its particular shape and
quality, more prized by him than a dozen other wedges. It got lost, and could
not be iound by the most thorough search — no one could tell anything about
its disappearance. After several weeks had passed I had a dream one fine
spring morning. I dreamt that I was digging earth with a fork, and that the
missing wedge turned up in a forkful of earth. I wakened up feeling I had
made a discovery. I got up at once and went for a fork. I knew the spot to
go to. It was about thirty yards from the wood pile. When I reached the
place I recognized distinctly certain marks on the ground which I saw in my
dream, but of which I had no other knowledge whatever. I recognized the

48 GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

very spot where in my dream I saw the wedge appear. There I turned up a
forkful of wet earth, and lo, up came the wedge.

Down to this day I have not ceased to regard my dream as, indeed, a
"marvel of the mind."

Duncan Cameron,

Manager Merchants' Bank of Halifax,
March i6th, 1897. Maitland, N.S.

A DREAM REVEALING FACTS NOT OTHERWISE KNOWN.

My sister, Francis E., and I were students at Oberlin, both struggling
under the double burden of frail health and self-support. Her health com-
pletely failed, and she was compelled to abandon her course of study and
return home. I remained. We were greatly endeared and mutually helpful to
each other, and the parting was a sore trial to us both. In the early spring — I
think of 1854 — during a violent snow-storm and cold wind, I ran about a mile
and worked until I was covered with perspiration, helping to extinguish the fire
of a burning dwelling, and contracted a violent cold. At first I hoped fur a
speedy recovery ; but, perhaps, for a couple of weeks did not improve, but
rather grew worse. My left eye — which had for years been subject to inflamma-
tion — and several times its permanent loss had seemed imminent, became
again violently inflamed, and its loss again threatened. Classmates, fellow-
students, and other friends, were too busy for large and friendly sociability ; and,
still worse, I was standing still while my classmates were passing forward and
leaving me. I became home-sick, and decided to go home and enjoy again the
care of my mother, who had brought me safely through several similar
experiences with that eye and innumerable other troubles. In my condition
the journey seemed formidable — about a hundred miles by rail, with poor con-
nections — to Zanesville, where I must spend a night, then down the Muskingum
by steamer nearly to its junction with the Ohio. My sister was then teachmg,
and I purposed as I passed her school, near home, to spend the Sabbath wiih
her. The boat landed me at the place Saturday about sundown. I was greatly
disappointed not to find her at her boarding place or to learn anything as to
her whereabouts. I felt hardly adequate for further travel that week, but could
not think of stopping without finding her. Upon further thought the lady
of the house said : ** Perhaps she has gone across the river to Aunt Phoebe's."
Across the river, mostly dwelt descendants of an old patriarch — long deceased
— whose name they bore, and they were commonly distinguished simply by their
Christian names, and they were among our best friends. Before going to
Oberlin I had taught their school, and Frances had boarded with Aunt Phcjebe
and been one of my scholars, and where would she be more likely to be found ?
Finding a skiff and oarsman to " set me over," I dragged my weak and weary

DREAMS.

limbs to the house, took the inmates by surprisi;, promptly asked, "Is Frank
here?" and received answer, " No! she is teachinj^' across tiie river and boards

at Mr. 's ; you will probal)ly find her there." I replied, "No, I have just

come from there. This is Saturday ; no school. She has gone, they know
not where; thouj^dit she might be here." " No, she has not been here ; perhajts
she is at Elijah's." At Elijah's a similar experience awaited me, and it was
said, " Perhaps she has gone on down to Edwin's or Uncle Jonathan's," I
called at Edwin's with like result, and arrived at Uncle Jonathan's at dusk.
After leaving the steamer the most cordial hospitality was everywhere proffered
me, but at each place, until this, I had turned away with thanks ; but here I could
do so no longer, I must accept, but my disappointment was intense. DuriuLj
the evening the main cjuestion with us all was, "Where can Frances be?"
Finally it was suggested, " Perhaps she has gone down to Dan's to make a
visit and attend church to-morrow — she does so sometimes." Dan resided in
the village about five miles further down and across the river. A member
of the family, who intended to go part way down in the morning to the village
to meeting, volunteered to ride on until opposite the village and call over and
enquire if she were there. He did so, and received an affirmative answer. He
said, " tell her Jose))h has come and wants to see her." By this time she wus
on hand to give for herself the answer : " I knew it."

And now comes the " marvel." She went to bed Saturday evening
still cherishing the purpose to attend church Sabbath morning, spend part of
the afternoon with the friends and return to her boarding [ilace in the evening.
During the night she dreamed that a married son of Uncle Jonathan's, formerly
a school mate of hers and scholar of mine, who at this time resided some ten
miles distant, came into the ro3m where she was visiting old and mutual
friends and said to her, " Fanny, Joseph has come and wants to see you." She
awoke, pondered her dream — slept again, dreamed it again, again awoke and
with increased interest pondered it again, and finally slept and dreamed again
the same dream with little or no variation. In the morning she arose and at once
began to make preparations to return to her boarding place. The family were
surprised, and asked her where she was going ? She answered, " I am going
home." They reminded her of her purpose in coming, and urged her not to
change but to carrry it out. She replied, "Joseph has come and I must go
home." They asked her, " How do you know that Joseph has come?" She
told them her thrice repeated dream. They said, " Nonsense ! that is only a
dream, Joseph is in Oberlin, and nothing could get him away from his class and
studies." They tried entreaty, ridicule, and all their arts of persuasion and
dissuasion, but without avail, and she was about ready to depart when the call
came across the river.

These are the simple facts in the matter, and my philosophy is utterly inad-

r.I.lMPSKS OK THE UNSKKN.

equate for their ex|ihination. ( Tlu're are questions suij'^ested but not answcicd.)
" Was it only a dream? a mere coincidence? nothing more? a coincidence the
like of which would never be likely to recur? Or was it a real revelation likely
to recur under similar circumstances ? A communication in harmony with— -and
the example of the working of some law, or laws, regulating the mutual relations
of the mind and body i* laws as yet undiscovered by mortal man ? Or was
this— like the revelations from God in dreams as recorded in the Bible — a direct,
and perhaps miraculous, communication from God to meet the needs of a hung-
ering and thirsting soul ? And are these Bible accounts of revelations to indi-
viduals through dreams to be rejected because our philosophy does not, as yet,
explain them ? These questions — except the last— must be left for answer to
wiser heads than mine. I may, however, venture the opinion that my sisters
dream was something more than an empty dream, with an independent and
causeless coincidence so strangely true and fitting so well into our circumstances,

desires and needs.

J. D. Millard.

Bear Lake, Manistee Co., Mich., April 3rd, 1897.

The following statement has bearing on the mystery of dreams :
My father, Matthew Cashing, of Burke, Vermont, who was one of the most
earnest and consistent Christians I have ever known, had some unusual experi-
ences. He was quite a believer in dreams. My mother told me, after his death,
of several instances in which things seem to have been foretold to him by dreams.
At one time he was, for some years, sexton of the town of Burke, Vt., in which he
lived. It was the duty of the sexton to dig the graves of those who died in the
town. My mother said there was seldom, if ever, an instance during these
years, when he did not say on waking in the morning, " I shall have a grave to
dig to-day." This too, when in many instances, he did not know that any one
was sick. This was so uniform, that he was accustomed to plan his work for the
day so as to make provision for this extra work. Other instances of seeming
revelations b}' dreams were as marked as this.

Wellsboro, Pa., Chas. W. Cushing.

A Dream Foreshadowing Coming Events.

The following statement is substantially true according to my best recol-
lection. I intimately knew all the parties ; but for obvious reasons the names
are withheld. I thouj,dit at the time and still think it a most singular fuUdment
of a dream.

In the autumn of 1863, a young man connected with one of the New Hamp-
shire regiments, was stationed at Washington, D.C. His mother was a widow,
and his only sister was teaching school in a neighboring town. Returning home

DRKAMS.

one day she asked her mother if C , her brother in tlic army, had recently
been heard from. She was answered in the ne<,'ative, antl that ho was well wh(!n
last he wrote. The daup;hter rephed " I feel worried about him, for I had a
strange dream a few lijiihts af^o. I thought that a carnage drove up to the house

at midnight, and the driver delivered a telegram saying that C was very

sick, and the next night another telegram came announcing his death." The
mother answered " I had a similar dream about *:"^'» same time." After retiring
for the night they talked about the matter for some time. During the night a
carriage drove up to the house, and the mother remarked " the telegram has

come." And so it proved, saying that C was very sick, and rtciuesting the

brother to come to Washington. He started as soon as possible, but had been
gone only a few hours when a second dispatch was received announcing the
death of the soldier, who had suddenly died before the arrival of the brother,
after an illness of two or three days.

West Acton, Mass., May ist, 1897. Rev. George F. Clarke.

DREAMS REVEAL THE CORPSE OF A SUICIDE.

The Ash ford ami Kentish Express for Saturday, June 2nd, 1894, tells the
following story :

•' A painful history of domestic unhappiness was disclosed at a coroner's
inquest held by Mr. R. M. Mercier at the house of Mr. George Barton, at
Kingsnorth, on Thursday afternoon. On Monday a hat was found near a pond
in a small wood locally known as * Colman's Kitchen,' and on the following
night a man named Henry Hollingsbee, who lives close by, had a peculiar
dream, the purport of which was that a man was drowning himself. In conse-
quence of this presentiment, Hollingsbee, who had to pass the pond on his way
to work, walked round the pond the next morning and saw a man lying in the
water, who was identified as Cl^'^k Howland, a bootmaker, of Boughton Aluph
Deceased, who was fifty-three years of age, left his home on Saturday afternoon.
According to the statements of his wife, ' there was a little disturbance that
day, but nothing unusual.' There are two sons and a daughter of the marriage.
The eldest son, ajjod eighteen years, was unable to obtain work. The dau'Thter
has been out of service since November, the mother stating that ' she has been
at home as a sort of protection to ine.' Mrs. Howland affirmed that their home
had not been a happy one. She had been obliged to support herself and family
by letting lodgings. She had no idea what her husband's earnings were. He
had never given her a farthing towards keeping house. . . . Deceased had
written a letter to Supt. Wenham, of the Ashford Division of Police, statin^y
his intention to drown himself at Kingsnorth, and giving as his motive that he
was completely brokenhearted through his home troubles."

A reader of " Borderland " was good enough to inquire into the story. At

111

II t
I

5»

(]LIMl'SES OF THE UNSHKN.

some considenihle trouble and loss of time he called immediately after the
occurrence on Sunday, June 3rd, at Mr. Ilollinj^shee's cottaj^e. He writes:

Leavinj; my bicycle in the hed^e, I opened the swin^Mn«( ^'ate, iiasscd under
the porch clustered with flowers. My knock was answered by a jolly matron,
who, on hearinf,' my business, j^rcw serious, for she was sorry to say her husband
was out in the woods at the back of the house ; if 1 went that wa\' I was sure
to find him. I then asked her if she also dreamed oi the man found drowned ?
No, she had not, although her husband told her a "hat" had been found near
the spriu},'. Beinj,' a dreamer and a {j[reat believer in dreams, I noted that as an
interesting point. After some wandering, I at length found Mr. Hollingsbee
standing beside the very pond which was the scene of the tragedy, a romantic
spot, where a incissy bank, some rocks, swaying water-weeds, surrounding trees
reflected in the pool below, and an old ash trt;e stump in the foreground, com-
bined to make a weird yet jileasing picture.

Mr. I Iolmngsbee's Evidence. — After explaining the object of mv incjuiry,
I asked : " I supjiose you were the first one to find the body ? " " Well, sir,
I'll tell you. On Monday a hat was found on this bank by a man named
Weston. On Tuesday morning he told me, and we both came to the same
conclusion — that it was an old hat that had been thrown away, and had been
carried here by the wind. I thought no more of the matter. I went to bed
at 10 p.m. What supper I had was light enougli. I went to sleep, but kept on
dreaming about a man drowning in a pond." " What pond ?" "I could not
say ; I have no recollection of any particular spot. I then hea»-d a voice call
my name twice — 'Hollingsbee! Hollingsbee!' I woke up, and then the same
clear voice called again, the third time, * Hollingsbee.' I could not stand it any
longer, so jumped out of bed, unfastened the window, and called out, ' Anybody
there ? ' No answer. Even if any of my family had been dreaming they would
not have called me by my surname, and the voice sounded quite clear, and
seemed to come from the ceiling near the window. It was then 2 a.m., much
too early for anybody to be near my house. Everything was as (juiet as death.
No, it was noi the voice of a person playing a joke ; it was too clear, too calm,
and yet seemed unearthly ; it fairly made me shake. I opened the window on
receiving the third call, and if anyone had been outside I should have seen
them, as I waited some time. I also opened my bedroom door, and went back
to bed, but could not go to sleep, as I kept on thinking of a man being drowned
in a pond. So I got up at 4.45 and went downstairs, lit the fire, and got break-
fast ready, but could not eat any. At 6.50 a.m. I went outdoors, and something
seemed to lead me to the spring in ' Colman's Kitchen Wood,' which is about
200 yards to the rear of my house. I went to the spring and looked in ; could
not see anything. Then I stood on this old ash stump, and 1 thought I could see

DRKAMS.

an old white jug, with a handle, which afterwards turned out to be the man's bald
head and one ear. I could then see a piece of coat, which swayed about with the
current of water. I called some mates, and w<; soon had him out. His left eye
catching on that twij; made a small wound, so we had to turn him over, and I
identified him as Clark Howland. I had known him years. We sent for the
police, and I went back to my house, and before I had time to tell the family, my
daui^hter told me she had dreamed a man had drowned himself. My wife and
sons did not dream, but I understand Mrs. Weston dreamed the same thin^'."

Thk Dal'ohtkk's Evidence. — "Could I see your dauj^hter?" "Yes,
sir, with pleasure." We then went back to the house where we found Miss
I lollinj^sbee, who related her dream as follows: "On Tuesday nijjfht I had a
very light supper, about thf; same as father, and I went to bed at lo p.m. I
dreamed that a man was being drowned, not in any particular spot. I saw the
body, carried by men, enter our kitchen, and the stretcher placed on the table."
"Could you identify the corpse?" "No; there was a large black covering
over the stretcher, but I could see that there was a body upon it, as the figure
of a man could be seen through the covering. As to the bearers, it was impos-
sible to see their faces, as they were covered with black from head to toe, but I
could see they were men by their build. Directly the corpse was laid on the
table I woke up, it was then between 12 and 1 o'clock. 1 heard no voice of any
kind, and I am not in the habit of dreaming."

I then saw Mr. Hollingsbee's sons, who stated they had not heard any noise
on Tuesday night and that they had not dreamed.

Mrs. Weston's Evidence. — On receiving the address of Mrs. Weston I
set off for her house, which is about a mile from " Hollingsbee's." She informed
me she retired to rest at 10 p.m. on Tuesday night and dreamed that some
man had drowned himself in a pond, but the rest of the dream was so muddled
that she could not tell me ; she dreamed of no particular spot or man, and she
was noc in the habit of dreaniintr.

Benjamin Rowsell.

I should also like to add that I met Mr. Hollingsbee on Sunday, July
1st, and he informed me that neither himself or daughter has had a repe-
tition of the dicam or dreams of any kind.

CHAPTER II.

;

Telepathy.

Introd'ict iiy Kssay by the Editor.

HE sympatlietic affection of one mind or person by another at distance,
througii a supposed emotional intluence, without any direct communica-
tion by the senses; thought transference; telesthesia": — so the great
Standard Dictionary defines this new term, telepathy. A vast mass of evidence has
accumulated in the hands of students of psychology and of the reading public which
seems to warrant the induction that mind, under certain conditions, can affect the
thought and emotion of another mind at a distance and without the aid of any of the
ordinary methods of coinmunication. A variety of theories has bee' advanced
to account for this phenomenon. Among them all there is none that seems
more plausible or has the support of greater names in the world of science than
the Theory of Brain Waves. It is now a vvell known physiological fact that all
thought and emotion is accompanied by vibration of the molecular matter of the
brain and the theory of brain waves implies the existence of a fme all pervading
medium which is supposed to impenetrate all material bodies and fill all inter-
vening spaces, and through which the brain vibrations caused by mental activit}',
are carried into other brains, and the same form of vibration reproduced.

It is a well-known fact in regard to two jiianos similarly tuned and placed
in the same room that a note struck upon one piano will be reproducfvl on
the other. Why should not two brains, it is argued, accustomed to the same
class ol vibrations respond to each other through this intervening medium t)f
ether ? The following article and illustrations are taken from the Tunes-Union
of Jacksonsville, Florida:

" The fact that Professor William Crookes, the inventor of the tube which
made the Roentgen ray a possibility, publicly acknowledged the existence of
brain waves, has lifted telepathy, or thought transference, from out the ranks of
so-called pseudo-sciences and elevated it to the plane of accepted fact. Others
have claimed the existence of telepathy for many years, but the public has been
chary of accepting their assurances and explanations, as the whole thing
smacked too much of charlatanism. The eminence of Professor Crookes in the
scientific world, however, is reckoned a sufficient safeguard against imposture,
and his statements within the past fortnight will certamly lead other men of
recognized ability, who have hitherto stood aloof, to take hold of the subject
and sift it thoroughly to the bottom.

What practical benefits accrue to mankind from a perfection of the science

(;u)KiFii:i) sriKiTS KKTrkXiM; to \ imi' i:\ktiii.v sci:m:s.

th(
by
anc

an(

gatil
Fral
any!

recol

men

theii

ensu

fring

serio

he cl

He (

fact 1

small

copp(

needl

the fi

metei

drive:

hand

force

This,

graph

dark <

the in

force

units

often

tutes

quote

from

TELEPATHY,

is something of a problem, but Professor Crookes outlined these in his address to
the Psychical Research Society when he suggested the possibility of one person,
by means of intense thought and the telepathic chain, communicating with
another without regard to distance. This, of course, he said was provisional,
and had not yet been demonstrated by practical tests.

At all events, he contended, a study of thought transference would preface
a more profound study of man, nature, and of all things, and stimulate investi-
gation into unexplored paths of science, principally psychical phenomena. In
France and Italy telepathy has been more extensively investigated than in this or
any other country, but the experiments of Dr. J. B. Ermacora, of Padua, and
of Dr. Baraduc, of Paris, while painstaking and unique, have received small
recognition from the sober minds of the scientific world. The work of these two
men from now on, however, will probably be examined with minute care, and if
their claims are satisfactorily established some interesting developments must
ensue.

" Dr. Baraduc goes further than the others, so far that he treads upon the
fringe of theosophy, and that very fact has deprived his investigations of
serious consideration. He not only contends that thought waves are a fact, but
he claims that they can be photographed, and that he has photographed them.
He claims the existence of a vital, or psychic fluid, and he demonstrates this
fact by two curious instruments called magnetometers. These consist of two
small dials divided into 300 degrees, with very delicate needles made of annealed
copper, and, therefore, irresponsive to ordinary magnetic influences. Each
needle is protected against outside contact by a glass case. If both hands, with
the fingers brought to a point, are extended in the direction of the ' magneto-
meters,' the needle corresponding to the left hand is, after about two minutes,
driven back, say from o degrees to 5 degrees, while the needle opposite the right
hand is moved forward to 15 degrees. Such motions show the existence of a
force emanating from the fingers, and forming a circuit through the glass cases.
This, according to Dr. Baraduc, is the vital or psychic force. If a photo-
graphic plate IS placed between the ' magnetometer ' and the hand, either in the
dark or in a faint red light, it will be seen, after developing, that the plate bears
the impression of some luminous effluvia which do not affect the normal eye.

*' Dr. Baraduc names the force issuing from the left side expir, and aspir the
force that enters the right side. He argues as follows : If the body exhales five
units on the left side and inhales fifteen on the right, there remains a difference
of ten units, which in some way accumulates in the human battery and consti-
tutes the psychic force that is radiated through the actio of the will, or, to
quote the doctor's own words, ' We are not isolated in the Cosmos; but, apart
from solar light, heat, electricity, and more or less rarified gases, we are

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

surrounded by other forces, which we inhale and exhale through some process
analogous to pulmonary respiration.'

" Dr. Baraduc's written explanations of his discoveries are not very
intelligible to the lay mind, and this fact induced Annie Besanl, the noted
theosophist, to attempt a lucid presentation of them. Unfortunately Miss
Besant's enthusiasm for the cause of theosophy switched her off from the main
point, and she befogged her elucidation by interjecting arguments to show that
the whole thing was part and parcel of her beloved theosophy. Moreover, to
clinch her argument, she published so ne pictures which she asserted were
reproductions of thought waves. In judging these pictures she says there are
three general principles involved. First, that the quality of thought determines

TELE I'A THY.

its color, the nature of thought determines its form, and the definiteness
of thought determines clearness of outline.

"A devotional thought is shown in clouds of deep blue, anger in flashes of
lurid deep red, love in clouds of rose pink, jealousy in dashes of dull green,
intellect in circles of delicate yellow. Not much reliance is placed upon the
authenticity of these pictures, as clairvoyants had something to do with their
formation, and for that reason they should not be classed with the genuine
work of reputable scientists. They show, however, that Professor Crookes and
his fellow-workers will be constantly hampered by faddists and eccentric folk
generally, who will distort real achievements bv bogus attempts to outdo them.

"Dr. Ermacora, the Italian telepathist, has conducted his experiments in a
unique way. Ke has made a child see in dreams many things she had never
heard of before, and to experience emotions that she had n^ver felt. This, of
course, would be possible by the use of hypnotism, but the doctor claims that
this power was not invoked. The child would go to sleep naturally at night
time, and the next morning she would be asked if she had any dreams during
the night, and she would then tell of them. In a majority of cases she dreamed
exactly what the doctor had said she would inspire. Several times he met with
complete failure, but the successful attempts proved the general truth of the
phenomena.

"The child, Angelina Cavazzoni,was only fouryears old at the time, and her
worldly knowledge and experience were naturally small. After one dream the
child, who had never made a trip on the water, and knew nothing of the distress-
ing malady, the next morning told how she had dreamed of L:cing on a boat,
how it i.as tossed about, and how terribly sick she was at her stomach. She
described all of the regular symptoms perfectly. At other times she was inspired
to see wild animals which she knew nothing about, and although she could not
describe them by name her descriptions made it an easy matter to identify
them. Pictures and buildings which she had never seen she was also inspired
to dream of, and in several cases she described them quite accurately. These
experiments continued for a period of seven months, but the child never knew,
and for that matter, does not yet know, the part that she played in them."

Reverting again briefly to Prof. Crookes' suggestions, we find that he claims
that his theory is simply an extension of the law under which sound is conveyed
by atmospheric vibrations and light by the subtler ether vibrations. He points
out that the rapidity of vibration may be increased indefinitely — from one a
second to a stage where the number per second requires nineteen figures to ex-
press it. Not until we reach the fifth step (where the vibrations are thirty-two
a second) do we enter the region where sound can be detected by the average
human ear. On reaching the fifteenth step audible sound ends. Between the
sixteenth and thirtieth stages we are in a finely attenuated medium where vibra-

'u'l|

iij

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

tion becomes an electric ray. All beyond this is a realm unexplored ; but Prof.
Crookes thinks it is not unlikely that the X-rays will be found to lie between the
fifty-eighth and the sixty-first steps, and that, beyond this, ether waves pierce
the densest medium and ' pass unrefracted and unreflected along their straight
path with the velocity of light.' He asks : ' Is it inconceivable that intense
thought concentrated toward a sensitive being with whom the thinker is in close
sympathy may induce a telepathic chain, along which brain waves can go straight
to their goal without loss of energy due to distance ? ' "

A CLEAR CASE OF TELEPATHY.

The Rev. G. W. Henderson, of Sarnia, related to me recently the following
peculiar experience, illustrative of telepathy or second sight, or perhaps of both.
We give it, as near as possible, in his own words :

" When I was fourteen, I got permission from my mother to go to Niagara
Falls in company with the school teacher. I made her a number of promises,
and among others, one that I would not run from car to car while the train was
in motion. I kept this promise on my trip down, but on returning, became very
tired of sitting upon the hard seats, and finding the journey monotonous, I
started to visit another car. 1 had on one of the ordinary sack coats with side
pockets, and on passing over the car platform hastily, the wind blew the coat so
that my pocket caught on one of the iron guards of the platform, and I was
thrown down, and came very nearly passing between the cars and being crushed.
My pocket was torn in the encounter, and the old coat and its torn pocket are
still kept in the family. The fall so thoroughly frightened me that I made no
attempt to move from my car again on the trip. I, however, found out the
precise time of the accident, — half past two o'clock. I arrived home in the
morning, and the first words my mother said, were: ' George, where were you
at half past two this morning?' and then proceeded to tell me she had seen the
whole thing most vividly, and had gone down stairs to see what time the accident
occurred."

MARK TWAIN's EXPERIENCES IN " MENTAL TELEGRAPHY."

It is not as generally known as it should be that the popular author of
"Innocents Abroad," is a devoted student of the mental sciences, and especially
interested in all those profound problems which lie in the mysterious realm
between mind and matter known as " Borderland." He has been for many
years intensely interested in that very class of problems the " Society of Psychi-
cal Research " are attempting to solve, namely : mind-reading, telepathy, clair-
voyance, and questions of kindred character. Not only is this so, but it is also
true that he has had experiences of a very peculiar kind, showing that his mind
is peculiarly sensitive to what may be denominated brain waves, at least if Prof.

Croo
recoi
some
the

'rELErAlHY.

Crookes' assumptions are correct. Some of these remarkable experiences are
recorded in Harper's Maqa::iiic for December, i8gi, from which we shall glean
some facts and statements. Perhaps the most striking of these experiences was
the following :

On a certain March 2nd, several years ago, he was lying in bed idly musing
one morning, when suddenly a new idea occurred to him, and made such an
impression that it drove away all other reflections and assumed complete mental
control. The idea was in simple words that the time was ripe and the market
ready for a certain book — a book wiiich ought to be written at once, a book
which must command attention and awaken interest, to wit, a book about the
Nevada Silver mines. '* The ' Great Bonanza ' was a new wonder then, and
everybody was talking about it. It seemed to me that the person best qualified
to write this book was Mr. William H. Wright, a journalist of Virginia, Nevada,
by whose side I had scribbled many months when I was a reporter there ten or
twelve years before. He might be alive still ; he might be dead ; I could not
tell ; but I would write him, anyway. I began by merely and modestly suggest-
ing that he make such a book ; but my interest grew as I went on and I ventured
to map out what I thought ought to be the plan of the work, he being an old
friend, and not given to taking good intentions for ill. I even dealt with details
and suggested the order and sequence which they should follow. I was about
to put the manuscript in an envelope, when the thoug.it occurred to me that if
this book should be written at my suggestion, and then no publisher happened
to want it, 1 should feel uncomfortable ; so I concluded to keep my letter back
until I should have secured a publisher. I pigeon-holed my document, and
dropped a note to my own publisher, asking him to name a day for a business
consultation. He was out of town on a far journey. My note remained un-
answered, and at the end of three or four days the whole matter had passed out
of my mind. On thegth of March, the postman brought three or four letters,
and among them a thick one whose superscription was in a hand which seemed
dimly familiar to me. I could not ' place ' it at first, but presently I succeeded.
Then I said to a visiting relative who was present:

Now I will do a miracle. I will tell you everything this letter contains —
date, signature, and all — without breaking the seal. It is from a Mr. Wright,
of Virginia, Nevatia, and is dated the 2nd of March — seven days ago. Mr.
Wright proposes to make a book about the silver mines and the Great Bonanza,
and asks what I, as a friend, think of the idea. He says his subjects are to be
so and so, their order and sequence so and so, and he will close with a history
of the chief feature of the book, the Great Bonanza.

I opened the letter, and showed that I had stated the date and contents
correctly. Mr. Wright's letter simply contained what my own letter, written on
the same date, contained, and mine still lay in its pigeon-hole, where it had
been lying during the seven days since it was written.

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

There was no clairvoyance about this, if I rijj;htly comprehend what clair-
voyance is. 1 think tiie clairvoyant professes to actually sec concealed writing
and read it off word for word. This was not my case. I only seemed to
know, and to know absolutely, the contents of the letter in detail and due
order, but I had to 7vor(f them myself. I translated them, so to speak, out of
Wri(jht's langua-^e into my own.

Writ^'ht's letter and the one which I had written to him, but never sent, were
in substance the same.

N'jcessarily this could not come by accident; such elaborate accidents
cannot happen. Chance n.ight have duplicated one or two of the details, but
she would have broken down on the rest. I could not doubt— there was no
tenable reason for doubting — that Mr. Wright's mind and mine had been in
close and crystal-clear communication with each o>her across three thousand
miles ot mountain and desert on the morning of the 2nd of March. I did not
consider that both minds or/i^ynci/ed that succession of ideas, but that one mind
originated them, and simply telegraphed them to the other. I was curious to
know which brain was the tel :aphei and which the receiver, so I wrote
and asked for particulars. Mr. Wright's reply showed that his mind had done
the originating and telegraphing and mine the receiving."

Another very striking illustration of mental telegraphy in his own family
is given as follows :

" I smoke a good deal — that is to say, all the time — so, during seven
years, I have tried to keep a box of matches handy, behind a picture on the
mantel-piece ; but I have had to take it out in trying, because George (col-
ored), who makes the fires and lights the gas, always uses my matches, and
never replaces them. Commands and persuasions have gone for nothing
with him all these seven years. One day last summer, when our family had
been away from home several months, I said to a member of the household:

* Now, with all this long holiday, and nothing in the way to interrupt — '

' I can finish the sentence for you," said the member of the household.

* Do it, then," said I.

* George ought to be able, by practising, to learn to let those matches
alone.'

It was correctly done. That was what I was going to say. Yet until that
moment George and the matches had not been in my mind for three
months, and it is plain that the part of the sentence which I uttered offers
not the least cue or suggestion of what I was purposing to follow it with."

Another experience of a similar character is recorded in the same number of
Harper s Magazine :

" My mother* is descended from the younger of two English brothers

• She was still living when this was written.

les

'fi'i'

fee
its

irs

MARK TWAIN'.

i5>.«

. ■t^/^

nami
trad

.n<r

\v;

lomi

t I;

tlu
dcsce
lias ij
Tl

occa^

af^ed

•'^ ■ r.v

'ii;i,i;i'.\i ii\'.

namcid Lainbton, who settled in this •oiiiitiy a few ^fenerations a,c;o. The
tradition j^oes that the ehlei o( tht two cventuahy fell heir to a certain estali; in
Enj^'hind (now an earldom), and died ri;j;ht away. This has always been the
way with our family. They always die when they could make anyth.in*,' 1)\' not
doinj; it. The two Lamhtons left plenty o'" Lamhtons behind them ; and when
at last, about (ifly years aj^'o, the Knj^'hsh baionetcy was exalted to an earldom,
the f;reat tribe of American L.^mbtons be^an to bestir themselves-that is, those
descended from the elder branch. Ever since that day one or another of these
lias been fretting his life uselessly away with schemes to get at his ' rij^hts.'
The present ' rij^htful earl ' — ^I mean the American one — used to write me
occasionally, and try to interest me in his projected raids upon the title and estates
by offerinj.; me a share in the latter portion of the spoil ; but I have always man-
aged to resist his temptations.

Well, one day last summer I was lying under a tree, thinking about nothing
in particular, when an absurd idea flashed into my iiead, and I said to a member
of the household, ' suppose T should live to be ninety-two, and dumb, and blind,
and toothless, and just as 1 was gasping out what was left of me on my death-
bed—'

' Wait, I will finish the sentence,' said the membsr of the household.

' Go on,' said I.

' Somebody should rush in with a document, and say, All the other heirs
are dead, and you are the Earl of Durham ! '

That is truly what I was going to say. Yet until that moment the subject
had not entered my mind or been referred to in my hearing for months before.
A few years ago this thing would have astounded me, but the like could not much
surprise me now, though it happened every week ; for I think I knoiv now that
mind can communicate accurately with mind without the aid of the slow and
clumsy vehicle of speech."

TWO INTERESTING CASES OF TELEPATHY.

In the Arena for March, 1892, the Rev. J. M. Savage, among other inter-
«sting cases of psychic phenomena, gives the two following :

" I will now tell a story that will be explained as a ca'jC of tdcpafhy. The
date of the occurrence is April last, and the place Boston. For eight years Dr.
B. and his mother had lived together in Odessa, a city in the southern part of
Russia. Their relation was one of peculiar dependence and tenderness, as they
had no other relatives I'ving, The doctor left Odessa a year ago last fall. A
close correspondence was kept up, it being their plan that the mother was to
join him here as soon as he determined on a place of residence and matters
were properly arranged. On Monday, April 2"], the doctor received a letter
idling him she was in the best of health, and full of anticipated joy over their

GLIMI'SKS OK THE UNSKEN.

speedy reunion. The doctor himself was <.^rowiii}; happy and excited over the
prospect. There was nothinp^, therefore, in the situation even to hint anytiiinj^
but happiness. Hut on Ajiril 28tli at 2.30 a.m., the doctor awoke, trenihhng
from head to foot and in the greatest excitement. He awoke out of a most
vivid dream. He was in Odessa, and his mother was taking; leave of him, and
sayin},', ' (iod bless you, my boy ! I shall never see you again here.' Th*!
next day, or the same day, i.e., the 28th, he told this dream to some friends. (I
have this from the friends as well as from himself, so there is no doubt as to the
order of the events.) During the morninjj; of Wednesday, April 29th, the
doctor received a telegram from a friend in New York, saying, ' Arrive 8 p.m.,
Boston. Expect you depot or Hotel Vendome.* This troubled him a little,
taken in connection with his dream ; for there was no ordinary known reason
for a visit from this friend at this particular time.

And this fact needs to be inserted right here. On Wednesday morning
early, a friend called at the doctor's room, and found that he had been so ex-
cited and had suffered so the night before, that he had come in and thrown
himself on iiis lounge in his clothes, and without removing even his over-
coat, and so had passed the night, so absorbed in his forebodings that he was
hardly conscious of what he was doing.

On Wednesday evening, then, the 29th, he met his friend from New York.
After two hours of preliminary talk, in which he tried to prepare him for bad
news, he handed him a cablegram in German. This cablegram asked him to
indulgently prepare the doctor for the news, and then tell him of the death of
his mother. The hour of her death coincided precisely with the time of the
doctor's dream. Not only this, she died holding the hand of the friend who
had sent the cablegram ; and in her wanderings, she imagined she was talking
to the doctor, and taking leave of him in the precise words that he had heard
in his dream.*'

What, then, are these souls or spirits or minds of ours that can commun-
icate from Russia to Boston by some psychic line whose wonder turns telegraph
and telephone to commonplace ? One case like this might be explained as
merely a coincidence. But so many have been carefully traced and verified
that the theory of coincidence becomes too irrational even to consider.

My fourth story goes far beyond any of these, and — well, I will ask the
reader to decide as to whether there is any help in hypnotism or clairvoy-
ance or mind-reading, or any of the selves of the psychic, conscious, or sub-
conscious.

"Early on Friday morning, January 18th, 1884, the steamer " City of Co-
lumbus," c?i route from Boston to Savannah, was wrecked on the rocks off Gay
Head, the southwestern point of Martha's Vineyard. Among the passengers
was an elderly widow, the sister-in-law of one of my friends, and the mother of
another.

'rKMCPAPHY.

This lady, Mrs. K., and her sister, Mrs. B., h.id both been interested in
psychic investi<;ation, and had held sittin<^s with a psychic whom I will call Mrs.
E. Mrs. li, was in poor health, and was visited reijularly for treatment on
every Monday by the psychic, Mrs. \i. On occasion of these professional
visits, Mrs. 13. and her sister, Mrs. K., would IrcfiucMitly have a sittinj^f. This
Mrs. E., the psychic, hatl been known to all the parties concerned for many
years, and was held in the hi<;hest respect. She lived in a town fifteen or
twenty miles from Boston. This, then, was the situation of affairs when the
wreck of the steamer took place.

The papers of Friday evening, January i8th, of course contained accounts
of the disaster. On Saturday, January 19th, Dr. K., my friend, the son of Mrs.
K., hastened down to the beach in search of the body of his mother. No trace
whatever was discovered. He became satisfied that she was among the lost,
but was not able to find the body. Saturday night he returned to the city.
Sunday passed by. On Monday morning, the 21 A, Mrs. E. came from her
country home to give the customary treatment to her patient, Mrs. B. Dr. K.
called on his aunt while Mrs. E. was there, and they decided to have a sitting,
to see if there would come to them anything that even purported to be news
from the missing mother and sister. Immediately Mrs. K. claimed to be
present ; and along with many other matters, she told them three separate and
distinct things which, if true, it was utterly impossible for either of them to
have known.

(i) She told them that, after the steamer had sdled, she had been able to
exchange her inside stateroom for an outside one. Ail hat any of them knew
was that she had been obliged to take an inside room, and that she did not
want it.

(2) She told them that she played whist with some friends in the steamer
saloon during the evening ; and she further told them the names of the ones
who had made up the table.

(3) Then came the startling and utterly unexpected statement — " I do not
want you to think of me as having been drowned. I was not drowned. When
the alarm came, I was in my berth. Being frightened, I jumped up, and rushed
out of the stateroom. In the passage-way, I was suddenly struck a blow on
my head, and instantly it was over. So do not think of me as having gone
through the process of drowning." Then she went on to speak of the triends
she had found, and who were with her. This latter, of course, could not be
verified. But the other things could be. It was learned, through survivors,
that the matter of the stateroom and the whist, even to the partners, was pre-
cisely as had been stated. But how to verify the other statement, particularly
as the body had not been discovered ?

All this was on Monday, the 21st On Tuesday, the 22nd, the doctor and

1 >i

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

a friend went again to the beach. After a prolonged search among the bodies
that had been recovered, they were able to identify that of the mother. And
they found the right side of the head all crushed in by a blow.

The impression made on the doctor, at the sitting on Monday, was that he
had been talking with his mother. The psychic, Mrs. E., is not a clairvoyant,
and there were many things connected with the sitting that made the strong
impression of the mother's present personality. In order to have obtained
all these facts, related under numbers i, 2, and 3, the psychic would have had to
be, not only clairvoyant, but to have gotten into mental relations with several
different people at the same time. The reading of several different minds at
once, and also clairv^oyant seeing, not only of the bruised body, but of facts that
took place on the Friday previous (this being Monday)— all these multiplex and
diverse operations, going on simultaneously, make up a problem that the most
ardent advocate of telepathy, as a solvent of psychic facts, would hardly regard
as reasonably coming within its scope.

Let us look at it clearly. Telepathy deals only with occurrences taking
place at the time. I do not Know of a case where clairvoyance is even claimed
to see what were once facts, but which no longer exist. Then there must have
been simultaneous communication with several minds. This, I think, is not even
claimed as possible by anybody. Then let it be remembered that Mrs. E. is not
conscious of possessing either telepathic or clairvoyant power. Such is the
problem.

I express no opinion of my own. I only say that the doctor, my friend, is
an educated, level-headed, noble man. He felt sure that he detected undoubted
tokens of his mother's presence. If such a thing is ever possible, su. :ly this is
the explanation most simple and natural.

Rev. J. M. Savage.

TELEPATHY, OR THE INFLUENCE OF MINDS UPON E.VCII OTHER.
An interesting article from the Toronto Mail.

We clip the following scientific article on telepathy from the Mail, Toronto,
as likely to be very instructive and suggestive to all interested in pyschic phen-
omena :

"The theory has been advanced that one mind exercises an influence over
other minds by means of a connection caused by molecular action of some kind
between the brain and nerves of the person influencing and those of the one
influenced. It is the only theory that will explain all the facts. There are many
kinds of molecular action which are only manifest to particular senses. Light is
manifest to the sense of seeing ; air, heat, and electricity to ths sense of feeling :
and the molecular action which proceeds from the decomposing body of a dead
animal is only manifest to the sense of smell. Were it not for the olfactory

TELEPATHY.

nerves we should not know of such action. But there is a particular kind of
molecular action that is not manifest to any human sense, such as magnetism
and nerve force. We now know that when molecular vibration reaches a certain
point it then becomes supersensory.

Heretofore all things or causes which were supersensory have always been
held to be supernatural. There can be nothing supernatural in a scientific sense.
If mankind could not restrain its passions now any more than in past ages we
would be able to see just as many ghosts as our ancestors did. No doubt they
suffered greatly from excess, but if they had not where would have been the
legends, the poetry, the lore, and many of the sciences, dark and otherwise.
From the Eleusynian mystery to the last spiritual seance many are content to
attribute all supersensory causes to the supernatural, which has in the past been
the greatest obstacle to investigation.

THE PHYSIQUE PART of man is a machine, the stomach being the furnace.
This is not a metaphor, but an actual fact. The chemical change occasioned
by combustion in an ordinary furnace is not any different from the change caused
in the stomach. Matter is simply changed, and turned into force or energy in
both. 1 he brain, through the nerves, operates the machine. Certain nerves
running from the brain to the exterior of the body, or at different apertures, give
exterior perception. This has been the puzzle of ages. How the soul took
cognizance of exterior objects has never been satisfactorily explained. When
one begins at a supernatural theory it is difficult to get down to common sense.
So long as the brain and nerves are considered dead matter, exterior perception
is inexplicable. A picture is formed of an exterior object on the camera of the
photographer — why does not the surrounding matter have a sensation ? If the
brain is mere dead matter, there is no more reason for a sensation on a picture
being impressed on the retina than there is for a sensation in the dead matter
surrounding the camera. The matter of the brain is living matter — that is,
molecular vibration in it is millions of times faster than in ordinary matter. The
image of the exterior object is not only impressed on the human retina, but on
the periphery of the optic nerve, that is on the matter of the brain.

Certain portions of the brain are the seat of certain sensations. These are
THE NERVE CENTRES, or those portions of the brain where the termini of the
different nerves merge in the brain matter. A tumour in the visual centre des-
troys the sight ; a lesion in the auditory centre destroys the hearing ; and injury
or disease in the motary centres gives paralysis. Any one centre may be
destroyed without materially injuring the others ; but the action of one centre
affects others. The centres may be operated by other means than the ordinary
nerves. The auditory nerve is the usual channel of operating the auditory
centre ; but this centre can be operated or reached tlirough the teeth. Light is
the ordinary stimulus of the optic nerve, but take two men into a dark room

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

J HI

and excite the optic nerve of each with electricity and the sensation of each will
be light. No one will therefore venture to say that the only way of reaching the
visual centre is through the optic nerve

As the nerve centres may be operated by other means than the ordinary
ones, so they may be operated on by forces from within the organization. Not
only so, but they may be operated by the neighboring centres. Physicians only
are aware of the visions, nightmares, and false tastes to which pregnant women
are subject. It is the same nerve stimulus that is used to conjure up a vision
of the imagination, or to place a thing " in the mind's eye," as it is that brings
the figure of the exterior object to the visual centre. Doubtless, when the object
is raised from the interior there are illusions ; but these happen on the exterior
as well. Not to speak of hundreds of trivial ones, sound, colour, time, and
distance, are all illusions — there are no such positive things. If there were no
ears and auditory nerve and centre, we should have no sound. There would be
vibrations of air, doubtless.

THERE IS NO COLOUR in any object; it is contained in the light. Time is the
succession of ideas, or rather it is this that gives the sensation. We cannot
fancy there is such a thing as time to the horse or the ox, and there can be no
such thing as distance in an infinite where there is no fixed point. They are all
human conceptions ; nature knows nothing of them.

Man lives in a medium as fishes live in water. All kinds of matter are
adapted to the animals that live in it, as the animals are the same thing but a
little more highly organized ; they are formed from their surroundings. Man,
out of the air, gasps and dies as a fish out of water; air is his natural medicine.
It is composed of many things. If a drop of water were shaken, it would, no
doubt affect all the animalculae in it. If a dynamite cartridge be thrown into a
pond, and an explosion takes place, fishes turn up dead rods away. If a gun-
powder factory explodes, men are stunned and windows are broken half a mile
away. If a man close by is spoken to in a low voice he hears it ; to reach a man
at a distance the voice must be louder to cause greater vibrations of air ; but let
the vibrations caused by the utterance of a word be but communicated to a cur-
rent of electricity, and only for the induction of the earth the word would be
heard around the world. Electrical vibrations pass through the human body.
Put a glove on the left hand and place the hand on the ear of another, then
connect the right hand with a tolephone receiver by a wire, and the voice of one
at a distance will be heard by that other. If such vibrations are so heard how
much less vibrations would be required to give molecular action to a nerve
centre in the brain and so cause involuntary thought — infinitesimal.

Visionary hallucinations are caused in two ways, injury to the optic
nerve or to the visual centre. If an individual with both of them unimpaired,
and nothing abnormal, has a vision there must be a natural cause. The

TELEPATHY.

objects seen by the drunkard suffering from delirium tremens, or those seen
by the exhausted debauchee, seem to them as real as the objects of ordinary
vision. The sensation of seeing an exterior object is caused, no doubt, by
the molecules of the visual centre placing themselves, or being placed, in a
certain manner or position. When disease, or injury, or continual fasting,
weakens the parts the molecules of the centre assume the position when the
object is only thought of strongly and continually. Hence religious and
other visions. Now if the strong character can affect the weak, which we see
every day — that is, the strong cause the weak to think as they do — much
more so can one in difficulty — a parent and son — affect a weaker one. Per-
sonal identity, consciousness, are pre-dominant ideas of the strong. Then
one can Understand one man's impressing himself on another so that that other
shall continually think of him ; and that the continual thought, acting on an
impaired visual centre, will ultimately bring visions of the one thought of
./hich will seem as real as the objects of ordinary vision.

Now grant for a moment the theory of the connection of nerve matter by
molecular action, and that one can be made to think like another, and the
mystery of second sight disappears. No doubt this is the question to be solved.
It is plain it is no proof that it does not exist because we have no sense able to
recognise it in any way. If that were so the world of the microscope has no
existence. Take the following fact : A physician amputates an arm, and buries
the severed limb. The patient complains he is unable to sleep by reason of the
fingers of the severed arm being doubled up, cramped, and painful. The
physician explains that the feeling is caused by the irritation to the nerve in
the body caused by the cutiiiig. It does not allay the feeling of pain, however.
The physician then goes to a brother practitioner, tells him the circumstances,
they set their watches together, one goes to where the limb is buried, the other
goes to the bedside of his patient. In a short time the patient gives an excla-
mation of relief from the pain, and the physician notes the exact time. He
afterwards sees his brother practitioner, and is informed that the arm was
exhumed, the fingers found as described, and that he straightened them, noting
the exact time of doing so. The time v/as found to correspond exactly with
the time the patient expressed relief from the pain.

Again, place an iron nail within two inches of a magnet. In a short time
the nail is magnetic. In this case we know molecular action takes place between
those two bodies ; yet we have no sense telling us of the fact. We only know
it by its effects; that is, by the nail's having a magnetic quality which it did
not have before being placed near the magnet. This nail retains the magnetic
quality for some time, no matter to what distance it may be removed froin the
magnet; its molecules are affected by absorbing part of the magnet. It is
reasonable to suppose that the connection subsists between the two bodies, so

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

long as the magnetic quality remains in the nail. As we have no sense ta
recognize the transmission of this quality we cannot recognize the connection.

Any molecular action that can be recognized by any of the human senses
must be very powerful. When one remembers the powers of the microscope one
can understand what a clumsy instrument the human eye is ; and when there is
not the faintest hope that a microscope will ever be constructed capable of dis-
cerning a molecule of matter, one cannot help believing that the supersensory
world is far more extensive than the world of sense.

However, vast efforts are being made every day to demonstrate the new
force. Mental contagion in panics, the transmission of vital energy from young
to old people, and the careers of great men, are some proofs of it. If science
has not told us what it is, she has shown us what it is not. Lord Lindsay, in.
England, created a magnetic medium in which a piece of iron fell as slowly as
if tailing through thick mud ; yet such a medium had not the slightest effect
on the human brain. The experiments of Galvani have shown a certain
affinity ; and the revival experiments on corpses with electricity have shown that
the nerves may be made conductors — but nothing like assimilating any known
force to the life-giving force has taken place. We should not wonder at this
when after four or five thousand years we have not yet the faintest idea of what
nervous action in the living body consists of.

There is j.n immense force that governs and keeps the universe in order.
We do not know what it is ; we only know its effects. It is called attraction
of gravity; without it chaos v/ould reign. There is a mental force
equally and similarly demonstrable. Its effects are too vague as yet to
call it a science. It is possible that nature intended man to be an animal
only. She lias given him sufficient coarse senses to enable him to live as
such. He is continually improving on them. Already the telescope, microscope
and telephone have wonderfully improved two of them. Whether the other
three will be so improved is a question for the future ; but we are fully certain
that we have not a sixth sense ; and we are equally certain that we very much
need one.

The advocates of telepathy do not seem so absurd as the early sanitary
reformers did at the time. Disease was formerly a visitation of God ; it is now
certain that many diseases arise from germs produced by filth. The time may
not be far distant when the instigation of the devil as a cause for crime will also
cease. There is every reason to hope that full demonstration will be made some
day either by the aid of improved photography or some other scientific instru-
mentalit)'. At present we can rest satisfied at seeing the first glimmering of a
new science that may yet revolutionize the world.

No notice whatever is here taken of the Boston Schi ol ot Science tests, nor

TELEPATHY.

of the doctrines upon which that school is founded. The metaphysical theory
of Giordano Bruno is clearly out of place in a purely scientific article.

Saint Augustin relates the following case :

A man of education, who devoted himself to the study of Plato, stated that
one night, before he retired to rest, he saw a philosopher, with whom he was
intimate, come to him, and expound to him certain propositions in Plato ; a
thing which he had hitherto refused to do. The next day, having asked this
philosopher how it was that he had explained these matters to him in another
person's house, when he had refused to do so in his own, the philosopher replied,
** I have done nothing of the kind, although I did dream that I had."

"Thus," adds Saint Augustin, "the one being perfectly awake, saw and
heard by means of a phantom what the other experienced in a dream."

" For my own part," he further observes, " if the matter had been related
to me by any ordinary person, I should have rejected it as unworthy of belief ;
but the individual in question was not one who was likely to have been de-
ceived." *

Saint Aut;ui>tin : Cite de Dieu, liv. xviii. ch. xviii.

I II

CHAPTER III.

rORESHADOWINGS, THW PROPHETIC ELEMENT IN HUMAN NATURE.

Introductory Essay by the Editor.

The student in psychology finds a class of phenomena quite distinct in
character and uniform in its teaching which seems to imply some power in the
human soul to forecast the future. " Coming events cast their shadows before,"
and it would seem as if some portion of man's spiritual being was sensitive even
to shadows and could discover in the present the events that are to be.

If it be said it is impossible to knovv what does not exist, and the future is
not, the ready answer with regard to all things governed by law — and what is
not — is that, in a sense, past, present and future are one. The present is the
past perfected : the present is the future in embryo. Who knows the present
without the past ? Who does not know the future who has adequate knowledge
of the present ?

The revelation of the future may come to us therefore through a knowledge
of the past and present, or it may come to us through the secret workings of our
own mentality, the marvellous powers of which are just becoming faintly known
to the philosophic world. The spiritual nature of man in ordinary life makes
use of the senses for obtaining its knowledge of nature and of the world out-
side. But it is, as we have seen in other chapters, by no means limited to these
channels of communication. In the clairvoyant state and in catalepsy it is certain
the spirit of man comes into more direct contact with nature and sees without
the organs of vision and hears without the organs of hearing. May it not be
possible that in one of these abnormal conditions of the spiritual nature knowl-
edge is gathered which to the mind with its ordinary intelligence seems a reve-
lation ?

Or, if we idopt the view of Thompson Jay Hudson, of the duality of the
mind, and accept his theory of the wonderful powers of the subjective mind, with
its perfect memory, its telepathic and clairvoyant powers, its powers over the
material realm, and the strange law of suggestion by which its activity is regu-
lated, why should not this subjective mind with its stores of information and wide
sweep of present knowledge, both within and without the body, possess and
convey to the normal intelligence ideas and customs that describe and fore-
shadow the future ?

Certain it is — whether the views suggested above be correct or not — there
is a prophetic element in human nature, and in some way future experiences are
often mirrored with a remarkable degree of fulness and of detail upon the

^m^m^

HACH.

mil

ele

Pl
ex

am(

ton

thei

aim

towi

him

twel

step

liste

prop

turn

I CO

dark
I re<

that
a v€
ciga
oper
then
rape
befo}

will

■i-^i

KOKKSMADUWINGS.

■n

mind. It is equally certain that this native power of the human soul is the
element which exalted and refined by inspiration forms the basis of prophecy.

But the purpose of the writer is not to theorize, but siim ly, by way of intro-
duction, to call attention to a few facts which every one, v o has examined the
phenomena available, must admit, and to sujj^j^est one o •^wo lines of posr>.jle
explanation. The careful reader of the incidents <^iven below will not be dis-
posed to question the existence of a proi)hetic element in our nature and may
possibly prefer to form his own theory of explanation of the phenomena adduced.

MARK TWAIN AS I'KOI'IIET.

In an article published in December, 189 1, in Harper's, Mark Twain,
among other singular experiences, relates the following :

One evening last summer I arr? ...! ''^ VVashington, registered at the Arling-
ton Hotel, and went to my room. read and smoked until ten o'clock ;
then, finding I was not yet sleepy, i ■ hou^^;l^t I would take a breath of fresh air.
So I went forth in the rain, and * u.ip. d through one street after another in an

aimless and enjoyable way. I knew that Mr. O , a friend of mine, was in

town, and I wished I might run 'or- him ; but I did not propose to hunt for
him at midnight, especially as I Oid not know where he was stopping. Towards
twelve o'clock the streets had become so deserted that I felt lonesome ; so I
stepped into a cigar shop far up the Avenue, and remained there fifteen minutes,
listening to some bummers discussing national politics. Suddenly the spirit of
prophecy came upon me, and I said to myself, ' Now I will go out at this door,

turn to the left, walk ten steps, and meet Mr. O face to face.' I did it, too!

I could not see his face, because he had an umbrella before it, and it was pretty
dark anyhow, but he interrupted the man he was walking and talking with, and
I recognized his voice and stopped him.

That I should step out there and stumble upon Mr. O was nothing, but

that I should know beforehand that I was going to do it was a good deal. It is
a very curious thing when you come to look at it. I stood far within the
cigar shop when I delivered my prophecy; I walked about five steps to the door,
opened it, closed it after me, walked down a flight of three steps to the sidewalk,
then turned to the left and walked four or five more, and found my man. I
repeat that in itself the thing was nothing ; but to know it would happen so
beforehand, wasn't that really curious ?"

PREVISION.
By Camille Flammarion.

The following article f' om the pen of this distinguished French astronomer
will be read with eager interest by all earnest students of mental science :

At one time I had lOr a friend an estimable savant, remarkably strong in

] '

1:^=

GI.IMPSKS OK THK UNSKKN.

mathematics, who was director of the Paris observatory from 1869 to 1872— •
Charles Delauncy. It had been foretold to him that he would perish by drown-
ing, a fate which had overtaken his father; and not only would he never under-
take a sea voya<(e, but he even avoided the most harmless boating parties. On
a beautiful day in August, 1872, however, his father-in-law, M. Millaud,
Postmaster-General, carried him off to Cherbourg, and with a couple of sailors
they went off to visit the breakwater. On returning from their excursion, which
had passed off very pleasantly, the wind rose and began to blow with the great-
>^st violence, and the pinnace capsized with its four passengers, not one of whom
\A'as saved."

In such an occurrence some persons may see a mere coincidence. From
the standpoint of the question of the prevision of the future, a solitary fact of
this kind is not, by itself, of much weight. A man is afraid of the water ; he
is drowned. Another dreads hydrophobia ; he is bitten. Another has a presenti-
ment against journeys ; hs is the victim of a railway accident. Such coincidences
attract notice, but they prove nothing.

This, indeed, ought to be our mode of reasoning, if examples of that
kind were isolated. But they are not. They are more numerous, and the
circumstances are more precise, than will accord with the doctrine of proba-
bilities. Here is another fact, related by Madame Leconte de Lisle, sister-in-
law of the poet :

One M. X. (I am not partial to anonymous examples, but I take the story
as it is reported) consulted a card-reader, who predicted that he would die from
the sting of a serpent. This M.X., who was a government employee, always
declined a position in Martinique, on account of the venomous serpents there.
M.B., Minister of the Interior at Guadeloupe, induced him to accept a good
position under him in that colony, which is free from serpents. Having com-
pleted his term at Guadeloupe, M.X. set out for France. As usual, the vessel
put in at Martinique, where he was careful not to disembark. Some negresses
came on board to sell fruit. Being thirsty, the voyager took hold of an orange
in a basket, but immediately uttered a cry. He had been stung by a serpent
hidden under the leaves. In a few hours he was dead.

This story was published quite recently in the Annals des Sciences
Psychiques. Here is another case, not less strange, of clairvoyance of thefuture.

One day in October, 1883, Lady A., living in rue du Bel-Respiro, Paris^
found that she had been robbed of a sum of 3,500 francs. She notified the
commissary of police on rue Berryer, who nistituted a search and questioned
the servants but discovered nothing. Lady A., when enumerating her servants,
begged the commissary to exclude from his suspicions her second valet de
chambre, a youth of nineteen, very good-looking, ve.y respectful, and very well
qualified for his duties, who had been nicknamed " le 1- -|:ite," not on account of

his
fat

acc(
to

pas^
the

FORliSHADOWINGS.

his stature, for he was rather tall, hut from a feelinf^ of delicate, protecting
famiharity which his ^ood (jualities h;-u won him.

Meanwhile, anion*; the friends of Lady A. there had been a good deal of
talk about a certain Demoiselle E., who, they said, could see the most surpris-
ing things in a bowl of coffee grounds. M. L. d'Krvieux had the curiosity to
accompany his governess to the house of this person, and was quite surprised
to hear her describe exactly each piece of furniture in Lady A.'s apartment,
pass in review her seven servants, and say that, though she could not name
the th'ef, he would be guillotined within two years.

Some weeks later *' le Petite" left the service of his mistress without
giving any reason, and two years later he mounted the scaffold. This
servant, so highly esteemed, was none other than Marchandon, the assassin.

Listen to one more story. M. T. Thoulet, professor in the faculty of
science at Nancy, was, in his youth, at Piedmont, as the assistant and friend
of M. F., an old naval officer, who was engaged in the work of reopening an
ancient sulphur mine. They slept in adjoining rooms, separated by an open
door. Madame F., who was living in Toulon, was nearly at the end of that
condition which is called '* interesting," and M. F. had spoken of the matter
to his young friend, though without insistence or uneasiness. It was a
second child, and everything was progressing most favorably. One beautiful
night, however, towards morning, M. Thoulet sprang out of his bed, ran to
that of his neighbor, woke him, and read to him a despatch announcing the
birth of a litt-Ie daughter. He had read but three lines of it, out of six, when
the despatch seemed to leave his hand as though some one were taking it away,
all wide open as it was. M. F. got up, dragged his friend into the dining-room,
and made him write down what he had just read ; then, looking at their by no
means correct costumes, they suddenly burst out laughing, and went back to bed.

Ten days later the despatch arrived, composed similarly of six lines, whereof
the first three were precisely those which M. Thoulet had seen in his hallucin-
ation.

How can one see in advance something which does not as yet exist ? *' That
is the question."

Goethe, in his *' Memoirs," tells of a strange vision which terrified him as
he was leaving a village where he had taken farewell of Frederick :

'• I saw, not with my bodily eyes, but with those of the spirit, a horseman
who was journeying toward Sesenheim along the same path. The horseman
was myself; I was dressed in a gray coat, edged with gold lace, such as I had
never worn. I roused myself in order to drive away the hallucination, and I
saw nothing more. Eight years later I found myself on the same road, revisit-
ing Frederick, and clothed in that identical dress. I must add that it was not
by any intention of my own, but solely by chance, that I had donned the
costume."

(IMMI'SKS Ol nil'; L'NSKKN.

Let us .'iRnin ask the same (luestion : Can one, then, see in advance something
which (It)es not as yet exist ? 1 he idea has been suj^j^'ested that at times, in a
fii;;itive nioinciit, we appear to he sensible that we have already, at some pre-
vious epoch, found ourselves in circuinstauees identical in all respects with those
in which we actually find ourselves. This is a species of momentary hallucin-
ation. But this explanation is a mere hypothesis, and one, moreover, which
is inapplicable to the facts already cited.

In studyint; this ([uestion, the important thin<i[, above all others, is to collect
precise and well authenticated facts. A sin<;le fact, well observed, is worth
more than a thousand theories.

Mere is yet another, reported by M. Groussard, cure of Sainte Ivadej^onde :

While at Niort, boardinj^, beinj:; then nineteen, he dreamed that he was at
Saint-Maixent, a city of which he knew only the name, alonsj; with, the keeper of
his pension, in a scjuare in front of a pharmacy, with a well at the side, and that
a lady whom he recoj^nized as havinji^ seen once, came toward the keep( r of
the pension and talked with him about an affair of some importance. Some
days later the keeper of the pension, to whom he had told his dream, having
to go to Saint-Maixent, took him along. What was his astonishment to again
find the square, the pharmacy, and the well, and in due course to witness the
arrival of the lady in (luestion, whose conversation was precisely that which he
Jiad already heard in his dream.

I have at hand a great number of similar experiences with which, however,
I will not weary the attention of the reader, but the interest of which seems to
me remarkable from the point of view of the cjuestion under discussion. I will
cite just one more, the hero of which I am very well acquainted with. It con-
cerns itself with one of my confreres and friends at my entrance into journal-
ism, Emile de la Bedalliere, editor of the Siecle. The circumstances of his
marriage are extremely curious. A lovely young girl, living at La Charite, on
the Loire, was sought in marriage by three aspirants, and her parents desired
to ascertain what her own feelings were on the subject. She had a dream
about marriage, and there passed before her eyes a young man in a travelling
suit, his head covered with a large straw hat, and wearing spectacles. An in-
ward voice told her that this would be her husband. The next day she assured
her parents that she would not marry any one of the claimants.

In the following August, young Emile de la Bedalliere accompanied on a
vacation one of his friends, who went to La Charite, stayed with him in that
city, and accompanied him to a subscription ball. He wore his travelling cos-
tume, a manilla straw hat, and spectacles. It was the first time he had visited
that district. The )oung girl recognized the finance of her dream, and a few
months later the wedding took place.

As I write these lines, a friend comes in, who, in his turn, relates to me the

KOKKSHADOWINdS.

»l

followinp; occurrence : This friend, Mr. Jules Fl.indrin, formerly lived in Mar-
seilles. It was in March, 1869, and work was beinj^' done on the construction
of a bridge across a street. One night Madame Flandrin awoke, completely
terrified by a dream. She had seen the bridge fall in, and she recounted the
details of the accident. They then went to sleep again. " At seven o'clock in
the morning, when we were getting up," said the narrator to me, "we learned
with stupefaction that the bridge had fallen in at six o'clock."

It would be ea^y to multiply such illustrations, which do not date from
yesterday, seeing that the wife of Julius Ca-sar b. gged him not to go to the
senate on the day on which he was assassinated by Brutus, but that he laughed
at her dream.

The fatalistic Arabian maxim sa}-s : "It was written." The Book of
Destiny is at the basis of all ancient beliefs. The scientific and rational obser-
vation of certain psychic phenomena leads to the same doctrine.

But, then, if the future is, if it cannot be what it will be, what becomes of
our consciousness of free will and responsibility? It maybe replied that the
human will is ;i real cause, which operates in the making of the future. Doubt-
less ; but in coming to our detLrmination, do we not decide in favor of the pre-
ponderant motive ? Here is yet another mystery.

[

FORESHADOWINGS.
Hy Hester M. Poole.

The incidents narrated below form part of an interesting article in the
Arena for February, 1893, by Hester M. Poole, and are given here by the kind
consent of the publishers. The article opens with a few eloquent sentences on
the number and value of psychic experiences among intelligent persons and
an explanation of the reasons why so many of these are seldom published.
The writer then goes on to state that for obvious reasons the names of the
parties who are agents or witnesses in the incidents narrated below are kept from
the public, but their full addresses are in the hands of the Editor of the Arena.
The writer then proceeds :

The lady whose previsions are narrated, a New Englander by birth and
rearing, inherited positive convictions against the possibility of modern
prophecy ; in fact, against the possibility of all psychic phenomena. She is of
a nervous mental temperment, but she also possesses much native scepticism
and coolness of judgment, and it was after many lepetitions of apparent " co-
incidences " that she was forced to believe that there is an innate power of pre-
vision in the human soul.

Having known her intimately (or many years, I air, a witness to the truth
of her experiences. Among them are the following :

During the winter of 188 — there frequently met in a dwelling-house in

GLIMPSES OK THE UNSEEN.

East Street, New York (where Mrs. A., as we call her, then resided with

her husband), a company of friends belonging; to a benevolent association. There
were seven altogether, all women, and upon such terms of intimacy that Mrs.
A. freely expressed to the others any foreshadowing which fell upon her sensitive
nature.

During the entire session she 'vas haunted by the apprehension that a
serious accident was about to befall some elderly man, in or about the back
portion of the dwelling. In regard to its nature or cause she could foresee
noth'.ng. In speaking of the matter a shuddering dread took possession of her,
and I often saw her put her hands before her face as if to hide a painful scene.

" It will be a dreadful fall," said she. " I do not see how it can be averted.
Nor do I understand how I know it will take place. I only feel it must be."

As there were two elderly men in the house, it might be supposed that one
of these would be the victim. Not so. Of that she was equally as certain as
that it would take place.

Time passed ; early spring vied with late winter, yet nothing unusual hap-
pened. One day there was a thaw, accompanied by a heavy rain, followed by a
sharp frost. Snow lay upon the ground ; the gutters of the dwelling in which
Mrs. A. resided oveiflowed and were hung with icicles. To remove these and
clear the clogged spout running from the rear roof, an employee of the lessee of
the house offered to ascend a ladder and cut away the ice with a hatchet.

The man was over sixty years of age. He had had large experience in
mounting ladders; was intelligent, cautious, and competent to do the work.
He was advised not to ascend the ladder and urged to be careful.

He gayly replied, ascended to the roof of the third story rear, and began
his work. In spite of care the ladder slipped. In vain the unfortunate man
clutched for support. With a dull thud he was precipitated upon the stone
area. An ambulance was summoned. He was carried to the hospital, where, a
few hours later, he died without having regained consciousness. Mrs. A., at the
time, was in the dwelling, but knew nothing of what had happened, until the
ambulance bore him away. The foreshadowed accident took place with no
warning at the critical moment.

It should be said, however, that, with Mrs. A. prevision comes in hours of
passivity, and generally when in the society of one or more congenial friends.

Another and pleasanter prevision has just been fulfilled.

Ten years ago Mrs. A. had as a neighbor a young girl, exquisite in charac-
ter and in person, between whom and herself existed great mutual sympathy.
One day the mother of Adele. as we will designate her, visited Mrs. A., and in
the course of a conversation concerning the daughter, Mrs. A. had a glimpse of
the future of her girlish Iriend.

" She v/iU, in due time, marry a foreigner," said she to the mother, " a man

•V. J

FORlvSHADOWINC.S.

much her senior. lie is higlily educated, refined, and a noble man in every
regard. He wears a uniform, and must be an olficcr in some continental army.
The marriage will be the union of soul with soul. There seems to be between
them an attachment as unusual as it is beautiful."

More conversation about the unknown followed, mingled with expressions
of astonishment and incredulity from the mother, and the matter was dropped.
What followed seems like romance. There is ample proof that it is real. More
than a year elapsed, and the prescient friend was told that Adele had met her
destiny. The gentleman had not at once been recogni/ced, because he wore no
uniform. But from the first, was perceived that curious and oowerful mutual
attraction vvhicli sometimes instantaneously rises above th. iperficial condi-
tions of life, and allies souls so large and tender that neither circumstances nor
death itself can dissever them. To the womanly and divine intuitions of
Adele, no problem of Euclid was ever more certain than that their souls knew
and responded to one another like two instruments tuned to the self-same key.
But no verbal understanding followed, and something kept them apart. That
something continued through long years. Adele developed into womanhood
with a character exhaling an atmosphere of exquisite sweetness, purity, and
pathos. True to the ideal of her heart, she lived apart from the innocent
coquetry of youth.

Years still fled, and the two, so strangely drawn together, met not. Finally,
one day in walking down Broadway, Adele felt a sudden unaccountable desire
to retrace her steps and enter a famous art shop which she had lately passed.
It was an apparently 'vhimsical impulse, but who can detect the hidden sources
of impulse ? Adele entered the shop, traversed the lower floor without stop-
ping, and, from the same inexplicable desire, mounted the staircase. There she
met face to face with — him. The acquaintance was renewed, with what ending

may be guessed. Bishop D officiated at the wedding ceremony, and at its

close remarked that he had never been so much impressed by the sacredness of
the tie which bound these two persons to one another.

In a letter from the mother of Adele to Mrs. A., who was unavoidably
absent from the city, she writes : " You above all others should have been
present. To think that you should have foretold all this ten years ago, seems
more and more wonderful."

It is noteworthy that the bridegroom has never resigned from the army of
his native country, though, of course, in America, he wears only the dress of a
civilian. Of this fact Adele was ignorant until long after iheir first meeting.

One more incident concludes the present record of prevision.

Early in May of the present year Mrs. A. met a friend who is much
interested in the work of the Society for Psychical Research. He is the b.ead
of vast business interests, and she had once made an extremely hurried round

1 ~

v.\

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

of an immense factory under his control. " You have a new span of horses, I
beUeve," said she. " Beware of them ! "

" What is the trouble with my new horses ? "

" One of them, the 'off' horse, has been frightened and is tricky."

" I have not perceived it."

" You will very soon. The horse will shy and then begin to rear. If he is
not carefully handled the carriage will be overturned, and you will be injured.
Do not attempt to use him ; he is not safe."

" Very well. We'll see about it. Anything else ? "

*' Yes ; there is a dangerous place in the upper portion of the long room of
your factory. (Here she designated the room and the particular corner to which
his attention ought to be directed.) Something overhead is about to give way.
I cannot see what it is. But if it is not attended to, the machinery will be in-
jured by something falling, and the lives of your workmen will be endangered."

The gentleman did not attend either to the horses or to the weak spot in
the factory.

These forshadowings were given on Monday. On the succeeding Thursday,
while riding behind his new span of horses, the " off" horse shied, and then both
began to run. Only the promptness and dexterity of the coachman averted the
overturning of the vehicle and all the concomitants of a serious runaway accident.

Thinking of the unheeded warning he had received and its near fulfilment,
Mr. W. entered his office.

Soon appeared the foreman of the factory with an urgent request that Mr.
W. should visit the long room which had been described by Mrs, A.

There he found, m the designated corner, a huge beam split in such a
manner as to make destiuction imminent, not onl)- to the machinery, but to the
lives of the men at work underneath. Strangely enough, the two predictions,
given together, were together discovered to be true.

These are only three incidents out of many in my portfolio which are as
well authenticated as an\' facts proven in a court of justice. If human testimony
is worth anything, it establishes the truth that, olten coining events cast their
shadmvs before.

Who is wise enough to limit or define the power of the individual soul,
when, freed from the sliackles of grossest matter, it meets and mingles with
universal soul, in which is contained all that has ever been or shall ever be ?

MARK TWAIN's PROPHETIC VEIN.

The following incident is given by Mark Twain in Harper's Mni^azine for
December, i8yi, and illustrates either clairvtnant or prophetic power, or miiul-
reading, or some combination of these powers. The writer inclines to the view
that the most strongly marked feature in the incident is prophetic in its character:

FORESHADOWINGS.

One Monday morninfj;, about a year ago, the mail came in, and I picked up
one of the letters and said to a friend : " Without openmg this letter I will tell

you what it says. It is from Mrs. , and she says siie was in New York last

Satnrday, and was purposmg to run up here on the afternoon train and surprise
us, but at the last moment changed her mind and returned westward to her
home.''

I was right ; my details were exactly correct. Yet we had had no suspicion

that Mrs. was coming to New Yoik, or that she had even a remote intention

of visiting us.

WOLSEY PREDICTS THE HOUR ()!• HIS DEATH.

'he following interesting bit of history has been furnished us for this vol-
ume by the Rev. W. G. A. McAlister, M.A., and is an extract from " Sketches
from English History," by Prof. Arthur M. Wheeler, of Yale College.

Wolsey, the famous adviser of Henry VIII., having at last failed to gratify
his master in the matter of the divorce, was arrested for high treason in 1529.
The reason for his arrest was skilfully kept from him. On the way to the Tower
Wolsey got as far as Sheffield Park when he was entertained by the Earl and
(_ our.tess of Shrewsbury. On November 26th, on his journey, he was seized
with alarming symptoms and managed to reach Leicester Abbey late at night.
The Abbot with all his convent came out to meet the distinguished prisoner.

" Father Abbot, I am come hither to leave my bones among you," an-
swered Wolsey to the demonstrations of respect. On Monday morning, as the
shadow of Cavendish fell on the wall by his bedside, Wolsey asked for the
lime. " Sir," said Cave-ndish, "it is past eight of the clock in the morning."
" Eight of the clock, eight of the clock," slowly repeated the dying man ; " nay,
that cannot be, for at eight of the clock }ou must lose your master. My time
draweth nigh." About seven next morning Sir W'm. Kingston entered the
room. To Kingston Wolsey repeated, amongst other things, the famous
sentence: "If I had served God as diligently as I have served the king He
would not have given me over in my gray hairs." Then his voice failed. The
film of death was sealing his eyes ; the clock struck eight and he breathed his
last. Cavendish, with others, looked at each other in amazement and remem-
bered the prophecy, " By eight of the clock you must lose your master."

PROrESSOR BOEHm's SIN(;I'LAR PREMONITION.

The followip.g incident is taken from Stilling's " Pneumatology" :
Professor lioehm, of known respectability in Giesen and Marburg, where
he regularly read public lectures on mathem itics — a man of integrity, religious
sentiments, a friend of truth, and anything else but an enthusiast — used
frequently to relate the following tale :

Being one afternoon in pleasant society, where he was smoking his pipe

Hi" i

iiiii

Hli

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

and takinp^ liis tea, without reflecting on any particular subject, he all at once
felt an inijiulse in his mind to {^o home. Now, as he had nothing- to do
at home, his mathematical reason told him he ouj^ht not to ^o home, but remain
with the company. But the inward monitor became stron^^er and more urj^ciit,
so that at lenj^th every mathematical demonstration gave way, and he followed
his inward impulse. On entering his room, and looking about him, he could
discover nothing particular ; but he felt a new excitement within him, which
told him that the bed in which he slept must be removed from its place, and
transported into another corner. Here likewise reason began again to operate*
and represented to him that the bed had always stood there, besides which it
was the fittest place for it, and the other the most unfit ; but all this availed
nothing, the monitor gave h'm no rest ; he was obliged to call the servant, who
moved the bed to the desired place. Upon this his mind was tranquillized, he
returned to the company he had left, and felt nothing more of the impulse. He
stayed to supper with the company, went home about ten o'clock, then laid
himself in his bed, and went to sleep very quietly. At midnight he was awak-
ened by a dreadful cracking and noise. He arose from his bed, -ipd then saw
that a heavy beam, with a grcc t part of the ceiling, had fallen exnc.Hy upon the
place where his bed had previously stood. Boehm now gave thanks to the
merciful Father of men for having graciously caused such a wa ning to be given
him.

A merchant's remarkable P resent J M-. NT.

In the account of his life giver Iv Dr. Johann Heinrich Jung-Stilling, from
whose work on Pneumatology, we havf: nijoo several extracts for this volume,
is given the folknving account of a rem-irk'able presentiment :

The merchant in whose employ I v. a; foiinerly, from the year 1763 to 1770,
and whom I have called " Spanier " in the narrative of my life, frequently related
to me a remarkable presentiment which he once had in Rotterdam. On com-
mencing business, he took a journey into Holland for the purpose of forming
connections for his extensive iron-works. But his chief attention was directed
to Middleburg, in Zealand, to which place he had several recommendations from
his friends, as well as to other towns in Holland. Having finished his business
at Rotterdam, he went in the morning to the Middleburg market-boat, which
wr > lyint; there at anchor, ready to sail at noon to Middleburg. He took and
pai I h)r iii' place, and (lien requested that a sailor might be sent to him at an
inn, wliioli he n.inied, wIm n lliti ve.sHel was about to sail. He then went to the
said ill'"., prepared (n\- ])\n vm) ige, and ordered some refreshment to be sent up
a) r.is room at elc' 1 .'I a*ch)Cli, When he had a'most finished his repast, the
saiK i;.ti.(. to call liini ; but as soon as the man opened the door, and the mer-
cha;!: c'f* 'm's e\es upon him, he was seized with an unaccountable tre[ndation,

i' u' ■"'

I'ORESHADU\VlN(;S.

together with an inward conviction that he ou'_;ht not to l;o to Middlebur<j;, so
that all his reasoninuj against it was of no avail ; and he was obliged to tell the
sailor that he could not accompany him, to which the latter replied that if so, he
would lose his fare ; but this mattered not — he felt himself compelled to stay.

After the sailor had gone, the merchant coolly reflected on what might be
the probable reason of this singular mental impulse. In reality, he was sorry and
vexed at thus neglecting this important part of his journey, as he could not wait
for the next market-boat. To banish his tedium and disappointment, he went
out for a walk, and towards evening called at a friend's house. After sitting there
a couple of hours, a great noise was heard in the street. Incjuiry was made, and
now they learned that the Middleburg market-boat, having bL-en struck by light-
ning, had sunk, and that not an individual was saved 1 My readers may think
what an impression this intelligence made upon the mind of the worthy traveller :
he hastened home, and in retirement thanked God for this gracious warning.

THE PROPHETIC ELEMENT IN DREAMS,
Remarkable Letters of Dr. Christian Knape.

In Moritz's '* Experimental Psychology," volume one, is given the following
letter illustrative of prevision in three remarkable dreams. We give the letter
entire as addressed to the editor :

"You desire me to give you a written account of what: I lately verbally
related to you, regarding the soul's faculty of ^rescic^/ce. As my experience
rests solely upon dreams, I have certainly reason f.o apprehend that many will
take me for a fantastic dreamer ; but if I can contrilnite anything to the very
useful object of your work, it is no matter — let peuplc think wliat thoy will. Be
that as it may, I vouch for the truth and veracity of what I shall now more
particularly relate.

" In the year 1768, while le mg the business oi an apothecary in the
royal medical establishment at Bi .1, I played in the :;eventy-second drawing
of the Prussian numerical lottery, - hich took place on the 30th of May of the
same year, and fixed upon the n mbers 22 and 60.

" In the night preceding i day of drawing, I dreamed that toward
twelve o'clock at noon, which is ihc time when the lottery is generally drawn,
the master-apothecary sent down to me to tell me that I must come up to
him. On going up stairs, he told me to go immediately to Mr, Mylius, the
auctioneer, on the other side of the castle, and ask him if lie liad disposed
of the books which had been lelt with him for sale; but that I must return
speedily, because he waited for his nswer,

"'That's just the thing,' thou.mit I, still dreaming; ' tlic lottery will just
be drawing, and as I have executed my commission, 1 w'U run quickly to the
general loltery-office and yec if my numbers come out' (the lottery was drawa

'm^m\i^

mi, ii

GLIMTSES OF THE UNSEEN.

at that time in the open street ': * if I only walk quick, I shall be at home aj^ain
soon enou<>h.'

" I went therefore immediately (still in my dream), in compliance with the
orders I had received, to Mr. Myliiis, the auctioneer, executed my commission,
and, after receiving his answer, ran hastily to the general lottery office, on the

* Hunters' Bridge.' Here I found the customary preparations, and a consider-
able number of spectators. They had ahead}- begun to put the numbers into
the wheel — and the moment I came up, No. 60 was exhibited and called out.

* Oh,' thought I, ' it is a good omen, that just one of my own numbers should
be called out the moment I arrive ! '

" As I had not much time, I now wished for nothing so much as that they
wouiu hasten as much as possible with telling in the remaining numbers. At
length they were all counted in, and now I see them bind the eyes of the boy
belonging to the orphan-school, and the numbers afterwards drawn in the cus-
tomary manner.

" When the first number was exhibited and called out, it was No. 22. * A
good enough omen again ! ' thought I ; ' No 60 will also certainly come out.'
The second number was drawn — and behold, it was No. 60 !

*' ' Now they may draw what they will,' said I to some one who stood next
me ; ' my numbers are out— 1 have no more time to spare.' With that, I turned
myself about, .md ran directly home.

" Here I awoke, and was as clearly conscious of my dream as I am now
relating it. If its natural connection, and tlie very particular perspicuity, had
not been so striking, I should have regarded it as nothing else than a common
dream, in the general sense of the term. But this made me pay attention to
it, and excited my curinsity so much, that I could scarcely wait till noon.

" At length it struck eleven, but still there was no appearance of my dream
being fulfilled. It struck a (juarter, it struck half-past eleven — and still there
was no probability of it. I had already given up all hope, when one of the
work-people unexpectedly came to me, and told me to go up stairs immediately
to the master-apothecary. I went up full of exjiectation, and heard with the
greatest astonishment that I must go directly to Mr. Mylius, the auctioneer, on
the other side of the castle, and ask him if he had disposed of the books at
auction which had been intrusted to him. He told me also, at the same time,
to return (luickly, because he waited for an answer.

" Who could have made more dispatch than I ? I went in all haste to Mr.
Mylius, the auctioneer, executed my co.iimission, and, after receiving his answer,
ran as (juickly as possible to the general lottery-ofllice, on tin ' Hunters' Bridge ';
and, full of astonishment, I saw that No. 60 was exhibited and called out the
moment I arrived.

*' As my dream had been thus far so punctually fulfilled, I was now willing

' t I

FORESHADOVVINGS.

to wait the end of it, althou^^h I had so little time ; I therefore wished for nothing
so much as that they would hasten with counting in the remaining numbers. At
length they finished. The eyes of the orphan-boy were bound, as customary,
and it is easy to conceive the eagerness with which I awaited the final accom-
plishment of my dream.

"The first number was drawn and called out, and behold, it was No. 22 !
The second was drawn, and this was also as I had dreamed, No. 60!

" It nowoccurnxl to me that I had already stayed longer than my errand
allowed ; I therefore re([uested the person who was next to me in the crowd
to let me pass. ' What,' said one of them to me, ' will you not wait till the
numbers are all out?' — 'No,' said I, my numbers are already out, and they may
new draw what they please, for aught I care.' With that, I turned about, pushed
through the crowd, and ran hastily and joyfully home. Thus was the whole of
my dream fuKilled, not only in substance, but literally and verl)atim.

" It will perhaps not be disagreeable to you if I relate two other occurrences
of a similar nature :

" On the J 8th of August, 1776, I dreamed I was walking in the vicinity of
the ' Silesian Gate,' and intended to go home thence, directly across the field,
by the Ricksdorf or Dresden , .d. I found the field full of stubble, and it
seemed as if the corn that hau stood there had only been reaped and housed a
short time before. Tliis was rcallv the case, although I had not previously seen
it. On entering the Ricksdorf road, I perceived that some persons had collected
before one of the first houses, and were looking up at it. I conse([uently sup-
posed that something new had occurred in or before the house, and for this
reason, on coming up, I asked the first person I met — ' What is the matter
here?' He answered with great indifference, 'The lottery is drawn.' 'So,'
said I, * is it drawn already ? What numbers are out ? ' ' There they stand,'
replied he, and pointed with his finger to the door of a shop that was in the
house, which I now perceived for the first time.

" I looked at the door, and found that the numbers were written up, on a
black border round the door, as is fre(juently the case. In order to ascertain
if there was really a shop, with a receiving-house for the lottery, at the com-
mencement of the Ricksdorf road, J did not think it too much trouble to go
there, and found that this was really the case. To my great vexation, I found
that only one of my numbers had come out. I looked over the numbers once
more, in order not to forget them, and then went home disappointed.

" On awaking, I was hindered, by an accidental noise, from immediately
recollecting my dream, but shortly afterwards it again occurred to ine ; and, after
a little refiection, I remembered it as clearly as I have now related it, but found
it difficult to recollect all the five numbers.

" That No. 47 was th ■ first, and No. 21 the second of the numbers, I

lit

\U^'^''--'-:l-

' 'nwH n

] iP^P- H

' i IP ' f

'^'

1 ^H||iS'' '- '

1 ■

t'1

if!

;

(ll.IMl'SI'.S Ol' Till'; UNSKI'-N.

remembered perfectly well ; that the third which followed was a 6, I was also
certain, only I was not confident whether the o which I had seen hereabouts
belonged to the 6 or the following number 4, which I also reinembered very
distinctly to have seen ; and, as I was not certain of this, it mi<;ht have been
just as well 6 and 4 alone, as 60 and 40. I was the least confident as to the
fifth number: that it was between 50 and 60 I was certain, but which I could
not precisely determine. I had already laid money upon No. 21, and this was
the number which, accordin<^ to my dream, should come out.

" As remarkable as my dream appeared to be in other respects, yet I was
diffident of it, from beinf^ unable to remember all the five numbers. Althou<^h
I 'v;is (juite certain that amonj; the sixteen numbers mentioned — that is, those
betu'een 50 and 60, and the six previously indicated — all the five which I had
seen in my dream were contained ; and although there was still time enouf^h to
secure the numbers, yet it did not suit me, on account of the considerable
sum it would require to stake upon all the sixteen numbers. I therefore con-
tented myself with a few a/zibs and /cr/ics, and had, besides this, the disap-
pointment of selecting a bad conjunction of numbers.

"The third day afterward (the 21st of August, 1776), the lottery was
drawn. It was the two hundred and fifteenth drawing, and all the five numbers
which I had seen in my dream came out exactly — namely, 60, 4, 21, 52,42 ; and
J. now remembered that No. 52 was the fifth of those which I had seen in my
dream, and which I could not previously recollect with certainty. Instead of
some thousand dollars, I was now compelled to be contented with about twenty!

"The third, and, for the present, the last occurrence of this kind, which I
shall relate, vas as follows :

"On the 2ist of September, 1777, I dreamed that a good friend of mine
visited me, and after the conversation had turned upon the lottery, he desired
that he might draw some numbers out of my little wheel of fortune which I had
at that time. He drew several numbers, with the intention of staking money
upon them. When he had done drawing, I took all the numbers out of
the wheel, laid them before me upon the table, and said to him, ' The number
which I now take up will certainly come out at the next drawing.' I put my
hand into the heap and drew out a number, unfolded it, and looked at it: it was
very plainly 25. I was going to fold it up and put it again into the wheel, but
that very moment I awoke.

" Having so clear a recollection of my dream, as I have now related it, I
liad much confidence in the number, and therefore staked so much upon it as
to be satisfied with the winnings ; but two hours before the lottery was drawn,
I received niy money back from the lottery-agent, with the news that my num-
ber was completely filled up. The lottery was drawn on the 24th of Septem-
ber, and the number really came out.

FORESHADOWINC.S.

9«

"Although I very willingly allow, and am well aware, that many and
perhaps the {^'enerality of dreanis arise from causes which are founded merely in
the body, and therefore can have no further signihcance— yet I believe I have
been convinced by repeated experience that there are v.ot unfrecpiently dreams,
in the origin and existence of which the body, as such, has no part ; and lo
these, in my opinion, belong the three instances above mentioned.

** I do not think that the contents of these dreams ou<;ht to give occa-
sion to any one to judge wrongfully; for otherwise, I could just as well have
selected others : but I have placed them together precisely because of their
simplicity. "Ciikist Knai'i:,

Doctor of Philosophy, Medicine, and surgery."
THE I'RF.niCTION OF M. CAZOTTK.

The following very int( resting account of remarkable predictions made by
M. Cazotte at an entertainment in Paris, during the " reign of reason," where
courtiers, judges, learned men, academicians, and others, after an ample repast,
were indulging in the usual scoffing of the times at all things sacred, is given
by M. La Harpe, a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences in Paris. This
M. La Harpe was at that time an infidel, though he became at a later period a
Christian. It may be found in the CEuvrcs Choisies ei Posf It nines of M. La
Harpe published in Paris by Tvligncrol in tour volumes octavo, in 1806,

Before giving the prophecy, as related by M. La Harpe, a few facts about
the prophet will pro\'e interesting. Concerning IVL Cazotte, J. V. Jung-Stilling,
from whose writings we extract this account, says : " A year ago, when I was in

L , I spoke with Baron Von W., who is a man of great integrity, and had

long resided in Paris. I related to him this wonderful narrative, on which he
told me that he had been well acquainted with M. Cazotte ; that he was a
pious man, and was noted for predicting many things which were minutely
fulfilled."-

A certain M. de N. inserted the following account of M. Cazotte in the
Parisian journals, from which it would appear that he not only uttered many
wonderful prophecies concerning the fate of his fellow guests at the party —
predictions circumstantially fulfilled — but also predicted the manner and
time of his own execution. He says of M. Cazotte : " He was very well
acquainted with this respectable old man, and had often heard him speak of
the great distress which would befall France, at a time when the peojile in
every part of France lived in perfect security and expected nothing of the
kind. Cazotte asserted that future events were revealed to him through the
medium of spirits. * I will state to you,' continues M. de N., ' a remarkable
fact, which is of itself sufficient to establish ]\I. Cazotte as a prophet. Every
one knows that his great attaciinient to monarchy was the reason of his being

(

■■ 'ii

9 a

GLIMPSES OK THE UNSEiiN.

sent to the Abbey, on the 2nd of September, 1792, and that he escaped from
the murderers by the heroic courage of his daughter, who appeased the mob by
the movinf^ spectacle of her (ih'al affections. The very srme mob that would
have put him to death, carried him home in trium[)h.'

" All his friends came to con<,'ratulate him on his escape. M. D., who
visited him after that j^'uilty day, said to him, ' Now you are safe! ' ' I i)elieve
not,' answered Cazotte. ' In three days I shall be j^uillotinc^d ! ' M. D.
replied, ' How can that be ? ' Cazotte continued : ' Yes, my friend, in three
days I shall die upon the scaffold 1 ' In sayinji; this, he was deeply affected, and
added, 'A short time betore your arrival, I saw a gensd'armes enter, who was
sent to take me by an order from Pethion. I was compelled to follow him :
I appeared before the Mayor of Paris, who sent me to the Conciergerie, whence
I came before the Revolutionary Tribunal. Thus, my friend, you see' (that
is, from M. Gazette's vision) ' that my hour is come ; and I ain so persuaded
of it, that I am arranging all my affairs. Here are papers, which I am very
anxious should be handed over to my wife : I request you to give them to her,
and consider her.'

" M. D. declared this was all folly, and left him with the conviction that
his reason had suffered at the sight of the horrors he had escaped.

"The next day he came again, but learned that a gensd'armes had con-
ducted M. Cazotte to the municipality. M. D. ran to Pethion. On arriving at
the Mayor's court, he learned that his friend had just been sent to prison. He
hastened to him, but was told that he could not be spoken to, for he was to be
judged by the ' Revolutionary Tribunal.' Soon after, he learned that his friend
was condemned and executed." " M.D.," adds the writer, "is a man who is
worthy of all credit. He was still living in Jul}', 1806. He related this narra-
tive to many persons, and it seemed to me not unimportant to preserve the
remembrance of it."

The narrative before us was found among the papers of the late M. La
Ilarpe, in his own handwriting. This La Harpe was a member of the Royal
Academy of Sciences in Paris, that storehouse of satire on religion, and of
\'oltairian absurdity ! La Harpe, himself, was a freethinker, who believed
nothing ; but who, before his end, was thoroughly converted, and died in the
faith and hope of the gospel.

'* It seems to me as if it were but yesterday, although it happened at the
beginning of the year 1788. We were dining with one of our colleagues of the
academy, a man of genius and respectability. The company, which was
numerous, was selected from all ranks — courtiers, judges, learned men, acade-
micians, etc., and had done justice to the ample, and, as usual, well-furnished
repast. At the dessert, Malvasier and Constantia heightened the festivity, and
augmented, in good society, that kind of freedom which does not always keep
itself witliin defined bounds.

rORESHADOWINC.S.

" The world was at that time arrived at such a pitch, that it was permitted
to say anythiiif; with the intention of exciting' merriment. CUimfort had read
to us some of iiis blasphemous and lascivious tales, and noble ladies had listened
to them even without havin<^ recourse to their fans. After this, followed a whole
host of sarcasms on relifjion. One person (juoted a tirade from Pucelle ; an-
other reminded the company of that iihilosopliieal verse of Diderot's in which
he says, ' Strangle the last kin^' with the entrails of the last priest ! ' — and all
clapped applause. Another s;ood up, elevatin<^ a bumper, and exclaimed,
' Yes, f^entlemen, I am just as certain that there is no God as I am certain that
Homer is a fool '; and, in reality, he was as certain of one as the other, for the
company had just spoken of Homer and of God, and there were amonj; the
guests those who had spoken well of both the one and the other.

'• The conversation now became more seriou:-,. The revolution that Voltaire
had effected was spoken of with admiration ; and it was af;;reed that it was this
which formed the principal basis of his fame. He had j^iven the tone to his
a;4e ; he had written in such a manner, that he was read in both the ante-
chamber and the drawin<:;-room. One of the company related to us, with a
loud laur!;h, that his hairdresser, while powderin'j; him, said, ' Look, sir, alth()U<;h
I am only a poor journeyman, yet I have no more relij^ion than another ! ' It
was concluded that the revolution would be completed without delay, and that
super.stition and fanaticism must make way for philosophy. The probable
period was calculated, and which of the company would have the happiness of
livinfT durinj^ the reign of Reason. The more aged lamented that they dared
not flatter themselves with the idea ; the younger ones rejoiced at the probability
that they would live to see it ; and the academy, in particular, was congratulated
on having prepared the great work, and for being the focus, the centre, and the
prime mover, of liberty of thought.

" A single individual had taken no part in all this pleasant conversation,
and had even very gently scattered some jokes upon their noble enthusiasm. It
was M. Cazotte, an amiable and original man, hut who, unfortunaiely, was
completely taken u[) with the reveries of those who believe in a superior enlight-
ening. He now took up the discourse, and said in the most serious tone :
* Gentlemen, rejoice ; you will all become witnesses of that great and sublime
revolution which you so much desire, ^'ou know that I apply myself a little to
prophesying : I repeat it, you will all see it.'

" ' There retpiires no prophetic gift for that purpose,' was the reply.

" ' True,' rejoined he, ' but perhaps something more for what I am ncnv
going to tell you. Do you know what will result from this revolution' (that is,
when reason triumphs in opposition to revealed religion) ? ' what it will be to
you all, as many as are now here ? what will be the immediate consequences,
its undeniable and acknowledged effects ? '

r»

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

^.*^.

^/ A%.

^^^%

<°

..0

I.I

11.25

|50 "^^ Hi^

^ M |2.2

urn

U 11.6

Hiotographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 872-4503

-'''is

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSliEN.

*• ' Let us see ! ' said Condorcet, putting on an air of simplicity ; ' it is
not disagreeable to a philosopher to meet with a prophet.'

** ' You, M. Condorcet,' continued M. Cazotte, 'you will give up the ghost
stretched out on the floor of a subterraneous prison. You will die of poison,
that you will have swallowed in order to escape the executioner — of poison,
which the happiness of those times shall compel you always to carry about with
you I '

"This, at first, excited great astonishment; but it was soon remembered
that the worthy Cazotte sometimes dreamed waking, and the company burst
out into a loud laugh. ' M. Cazotte,' said one of the guests, ' the tale you
relate to us is not near so amusing as your * Devil in Love ' (' Le Diahh Am-
oureux' is a pretty little romance, written by Cazotte). ' What devil has sug-
gested to you the dungeon, the poison, and the executioner."* What has this in
common with philosophy and the reign of reason ? '

'* * This is just what I tell you,' replied Cazotte. * In the name of phil-
osophy, in the name of humanity, liberty, and reason, will it come to pass, that
such will be your end : and reason will then certainly triumph, for she will have
her temples ; nay, at that period, there will be no other temples in all France
than the temple of reason.'

" • Truly,' said Chamfort, with a sarcastic smile, ' you will be no priest ot
these temples.'

•* Cazotte answered : ' I hope not ; but you, M. Chamfort, who will be one
of them, and are very worthy of being so, you will open your veins by twenty-
two incisions of the razor, and yet you will die only some months afterward ! '

*' The company looked at each other, and laughed again.

*' Cazotte continued : ' You, M. Vicq. d'Azyr, will not open your veins
yourself, but will afterward cause them to be opened six times in one day in an
attack of the gout, in order to make the matter more sure, and you will die the
same night 1

" ' You, M. Nicolai, will die upon the scaffold I —
• You, M. Bailly, on the scaffold ! '
You, M. Malesherbes, on the scaffold 1 '

" ' God be thanked!' exclaimed M. Raucher, * it appears that M. Cazotte
has only to do with the academicians: he has just made dreadful havoc among
them. I, Heaven be praised — '

" Cazotte interrupted him : * You ? — you will die on the scaffold also I'

•"Ha! this is a wager,' resounded from all sides; 'he has sworn to
exterminate us all ! '

" Cazotte. No, it is not I that have sworn it.

•• 77/e company. Shall we then be under subjection to Turks and Tar-
tars } and yet —

<( I

FORESHADOWINdS.

" Cazotle. Nothing less. I have already told you that you will then be
under the government of philosophy and reason. Those that will treat you in
this manner will be all philosophers ; they will be continually making use of
those very expressions which you have been mouthing (or the last hour ; they
will repeat all your maxims, and, like you, will (luote the verses of Diderot and
Pucelle.

" The guests whispered into each other's ears : * You see clearly that he
has lost his reason' ((or while speaking thus, he continued very serious). * Don't
you see that he is joking, and in all his jests he mixes something of the
wonderful?' 'Yes,' said Chamfort, 'but I must confess his wonders are not
very pleasing ; they are much too gallows-lihe. And when shall this take
place.-* '

" CazoUe. Six years shall not pass over before all that I have told you
shall be fulfilled !

"'You tell us many wonderful things' — it was this time I (La Harpe)
that spoke — ' and do you say nothing of me ? '

" ' With respect *o you,' answered Cazotte, ' a wonder will take place
that will be at least quite as remarkable. You will then be a Christian ! '

" A general exclamation ! ' Now I am at ease,' said Chamfort ; ' if we
only perish when La Harpe is a Christian, we are immortal.'

" ' We of the female sex,' said X\ Duchess de Grammont, ' are fortunate
in being reckoned as nothing in revolutions. When I say as nothing, I do not
intend to say that we do not interfere in them a little ; but it is a generally-
received maxim that we, and those of our sex, are not deemed responsible on
that account.'

*' Cazotte. Your sex, ladies, will be this time no protection to you ; and
however little you may be desirous of interfering, yet you will be treated pre-
cisely as the men, and no difference will be made with respect to you.

" The Duchess. But what is it you are telling us, M. Cazotte? You cer-
tainly are announcing the end of the world !

" Cazotte. That I know not ; but what I do know is, that you, my lady
duchess, will be drawn to the scaffold — you, and many other ladies with you —
upon a hurdle, with your hands bound behind you.

" The Duchess. I hope, however, in that case, that I shall have a mourning
coach.

" Cazotte. No, madam ! Ladies of highei rank than you will be drawn
upon a hurdle, with their hands bound behind them.

" 7 he Duchess. Ladies of higher rank ! What, the princesses of the
blood ?

*' Cazotte. Of still higher rank !

"A visible emotion now manifested itself through the whole company, and

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

the master of the house assuined an air of displeasure. It began to be evident
that the joke was carried too far.

" The Duchess de Grammont, in order to dispel the cloud, let the last
reply drop, and contented herself with saying, in a most jocular tone, * You
shall see he will not even leave me the consolation of a confessor! '

" Cazottc. No madam, none will be given, either to you or any one else.
The last sufferer to whom the favor of a confessor will be granted — (there he
paused a moment).

" The Duchess. Well, who will the fortunate mortal be to whom this privi-
lege will be granted ?

" Cazotte. It will be the only privilege he will retain, and this will be the
king of France !

" The master of the house now hastily arose from the table and the whole
company with him. He went to M. Cazotte, and said with deep emotion, * My
dear Cazotte, this lamentable joke has lasted long enough. You carry it too
far, and to a degree in which you endanger yourself, and the company in which
you are.'

" Cazotte made no reply and was preparing to depart, when the Duchess de
Grammont, who still endeavored to prevent the matter being taken in a serious
light, and labored to restore hilarity, went to him and said, ' Now, Mr. Pro-
phet, you have told us all our fortunes, but have said nothing of your own fate.'

" He was silent, cast his eyes downward, and then said, 'Have you ever
read in Josephus, madam, the history of the siege of Jerusalem ? '

" The Duchess. Certainly ; who has not read it ? but do as though I had
never read it.

" Cazotte, Well, madam ! during this siege, a man went seven successive
days upon the walls round the town, in the sight of both the besiegers
and the besieged, and cried out incessantly with a mournful voice, ' Wo
to Jerusalem! Wo to Jerusalem!' On the seventh day he cried, 'Wo to
Jerusalem ! and wo to myself also ! ' and in the same moment he was crushed
to death by an immense stone, hurled from the enemy's engines.

" After these words, M. Cazotte made his bow and departed.

" It IS certainly true that all those who were present at the dinner lost
their lives precisely in the manner here predicted by Cazotte. The person who
gave the entertainment, to whom Cazotte prophesied nothing, and who was
most probably the Duke de Chaiseul, was the only one that died a natural death.
The; worthy and pious Cazotte was guillotined, as we have shown above."

PRESCIENCE.

1 will relate a few singular facts concerning an ignorant man by the name
of Luman Walter, who seemed to have a ^\i\. of what might be called pre-

lOKESHAUOWlXGS.

science. This man lived in a town not far away from my home, so that I often
heard of the pecuhar stories about him. I will only give one which was located
in my father's family. This man had a reputation as a very skilful physician,
though uneducated. But he never went to see his patients, nor asked any
<]uestions, except to know the name and age and see a lock of the hair.

At about sixteen years of age, my oldest sister was suddenly stricken with
complete paralysis of the left side. One half of the entire person was para-
lyzed — the tongue so that she could scarcely speak so as to be understood, the
left eye was blind, left ear deaf, left hand and foot as powerless as if dead.
Physicians could do nothing. In the emergency my father went to see Dr.
Walter. After giving her name and age, and presenting a lock of the hair, he
immediately gave a perfect description of the case from the first, and told m)
father, thac growing in certain localities he would find an herb, which he
described so minutely that my father had no difficulty in recognizing it. Thij
used according to directions, produced a perfect cure, so that until her death,
more than forty years after, she never had the slightest recurrence of the sym-
toms. Chas. W. Gushing.

Wellsboro, Pa., May 6, 1897.

A TELKGKAPH MESSAGE IN A DREAM ANNOUNCES IN ADVANCE A YOUNG MAN's
DEATH — SEVERAL MEMBERS OF THE FAMILY HAVE PREMONITIONS

OF THE COMING FATALITY.

The following strange but true tale of events which happened in 1893, in
St. Thomas, or centred there, is taken from the Detroit Tribune of May 21st,
1893. The editor is personally acquainted with Dr. Buck, John Farley, Esq. ;
j. H. Coyne, M.A., Registrar of Elgin, Mr. Finch and Mr. Thomson, and can
vouch for the absolute reliability of all the testimonies given in the article :

"On the morning of March 3rd, 1893, Edward Thomson, of St. Thomas,
a brakeman employed on the Grand Trunk Railway running east of St. Thomas,
was killed twelve miles west of the city on a branch of the road on which he
had never worked before.

A week or ten days before this time James Finch, night operator on the
Grand Trunk at St. Thomas, foretold the boy's death at almost the very spot
that he was killed, although at that time no one imagined that Thomson would
be workmg on that branch of the road.

The single circumstance of Finch's prophecy would, perhaps, have been
treated as a mere accident — a strange coincidence and nothing more — if it had
not happened that other members of the family, one of them hundreds of miles
away, had received " warnings " of the danger that hovered over the young
man. Many little circumstances which would have been of no significance in
themselves were recalled by different members of the family when the strange

c}i,iMFSKs OK rm-: unsekn.

I'i

circumstances that surrounded the death had become a subject of family talk. A
week or two after his son's death, J. H. Tl.omson went down to look over the
ground of the accident in order to determine exactly how the accident that caused
lulward's death occurred. There he made the accjuaintance of Mrs. N. \V.
Dawson, wife of the section foreman. She mentioned to him the sinirular
circumstance that a few hours before his son's ucilh her husband had seen a
lii^ht in the little hollow between the railway embankment and the hill, directly
opposite the spot where the youni^ man had been killed. She thought it was

stranLje.

Altogether there were six [)(,'rsons who felt distinctly two or three days
before the accident the impress of the events that were in preparation, and
foreshadowed in their own ronsciousness, more or less distinctly, the fate that
eventuall)' overtook Edward Thomson.

There had been other instances of prescience quite remarkable in other
members ot this same familv. But what made this case more remarkable than
others was the number of persons upon whose minds this event had cast its
shadow, and the accuracy with which the original prophecy had been fulfilled in
the manner in which it first presented itself.

It seemed as if in this singular instance the mystery in which fate fulfills its
decrees had suddenly been lifted and mortals were permitted to witness in ad-
vance the machinery of destiny at work shaping the predetermined and inevitable
events which make the web of daily life.

It happened that Dr. R. M. Bucke, a student of psychology and head of the
insane asylum at London, Ont., heard in the course of the family gossip of the
events that had taken place at St. Thomas and of the singular circumstances
surrounding the death of Edward Thomson. Dr. Bucke had known the 'Thom-
son family a great many years. J. H. 'Thomson and he grew u|) together, and
they were distantly related. He knew also that there had been other instances
of second sight in the family. Dr. Bucke is writing a book which has to do with
phenomena of this kind. He was naturally interested in getting an accurate
report of the occurrence.

Not having the time or perhaps the inclination to go himself to St. Thomas,
he inquired of Dr. Sippi, who is employed wich him at the hospital, if he knew
anyone who would be fitted to undertake the task of investigating the singular
events of which he had received a general and rather mythical account. In order
to indicate precisely what he wanted to know he addressed a letter to Dr. Sippi
stating his purpose and the nature of the inquiry he desired to be made. Dr.
Sippi enclosed the letter to John Farley, a solicitor of St. Thomas, stating that
he had undertaken to find some one who would make the desired investigation
and had settled upon him as the man.

In answer to that letter Dr. Sippi received a reply, which was the first

I()KI.S)1.\1»()\\ INCS.

99'

coherent account of the alTair that had been obtaineil. The st.it<nnent is inter-
esting as showing, among other things, the general accuracy of the statements
that have been made concerning the affair and indicating how far they can be
trusted. 'I'he letter is as follows :

"St. Thomas, March 23rd. — Dear Dr. Si|)pi : I have di ly received your
letter, also Dr. Hucke's enclosed, but it was not until to-day that I had the oppor-
tunity of having an interview with Thomson. I give you as nearly as I can
the facts and you may communicate with him for an\ thing further. He will be
very glatl to give you any information in his power. He feels his son's death
very much.

" Mr Thom.son tells me that h'inch, who was night (j[)erator, came into the
office a day or two before the death of his son and said : ' Thomson, are you a
nervous man ? When I went home last night I laid down on the lounge and
fell asleep and dreamed that I was at the keys wheii the message came, " Kd.
Thomson is killed," and that message came fr )m the west, whereas he runs
always from the east. 1 could not shake off the impression made on me all that
day, and it was very strange it should come from the west when I knew that his
runs were always east.' But at that particular time he was running between
Windsor and St. Thomas.

" His other son, who lives in New York .State, luistace, a few nights before
his death dreamed that \id. was djing and spoke it out in his sleej) so that his
companion who was sleeping with him wakened and tokl him what he was say-
ing; and he was so much frightened and choked that he had to get up in order
to get his breath, and remained up for some time. Mr. 'Thomson says he himself
had a dream a night or two before the death that his other son had come home
to die. He is working on the Lake Shore Railway. He said that he called at.
the place where his son was killed a day or two after and the wife of the sectioti
man, an English woman, living close to the place, told him that early that morn-
ing when her husband ^ot up and looked out in the direction where the acci-
dent afterward took place he saw a blaze of light and called to his wife to come
and see it, but when she reached the window neither could see it. She thought
it very strange when the accident occurred a few hours afterward. The age of
the boy was nineteen years.

" There is nothing more worthy of note unless it was that one of the
daughters at the supper table, two days before, said to her mother on looking at
the grounds in her tea-cup, ' There is going to be a lot of people at our house
soon.' Her mother was very much alarmed, but Thomson saw nothing in that,
because it was a habit of the family of looking in their teacups.

" Yours truly, Joiix Farley."

It was a month later before the final statements of the case were prepared

I oo

GI.IMI'SKS t)l- THK UNSKKN.

In the meantime Dr. Hucke had made the ac(|uaintance of J. M. Coyne, rejristrar
of deeds at St. Thomas. Dr. Bucke spoke to Mr. Coyne about the case, inter-
ested him in it and finally induced him to promise to investigate and secure
exph'cit statements of the matter from the persons who had the facts. Mr.
Coyne is an attorney and a man of more than ordinary information and intelli-
gence. He was a person whom the doctor could trust to sift the facts to the
bottom, and it is upon the facts that were obtained that the history of one of the
most remarkable cases of second sight now on record rests.

Mr. Coyne interviewed both father and son, also Mr. Finch, the operator.
The statement of John H. Thomson, which he obtained, is as follows :

•' I am the father of Eustace G. and Edward Thomson. I am forty-nine
years of age. I frequently have premonitions of the death of friends by a
depression of spirits, continuing sometimes for two or three days. It has been
the subject of conversation with my wife.

" The third night before Edward was killed I dreamed that Eustace had
come home looking very sad. I got the idea somehow that he had come home
to die. The dream impressed me very strongly and caused a great depression
of spirits. I told somebody in the ofifice next day of the dream, probably Mr.
Tyler. The feeling of depression lasted until I heard of Edward's death. The
morning before Edward v. as killed he left the house a little after half past six.
■e seemed very reluctant to go, and said if it was not his turn he would not go.
inding that a friend, Clark, was going out with him he decided to go. My
wife noticed him looking out of the window for some time instead of rushing
down stairs as was his custom. She asked him if he did not fe(^l well. He
replied that he was all right and came down stairs at once.

"The next morning after my dream Mr. Finch, night operator on the
Grand Trunk Railway at St. Thomas where I was then ticket agent, came to me
before I left the office for the day and asked if I was anyway nervous. He
didn't know whether he ought to tell me or not, he said. I told him to go
ahead, whatever it was. Then he told that when he went over home the pre-
vious morning he had breakfasted and then lay down on his lounge to rest, and
being half asleep and half awake he heard a message come over the wire — there
was no wire in the house — saying : ' Edward Thomson is killed,' and that the
message appeared to come from the west. He said to me ' Ted, you know, is
running east and there can't be much in that, and you know dreams go by con-
traries, any way.'

"Ted had been call boy for Mr. Finch, who thoup^ht a good deal of him.
Mr. F. said he could not shake off the impression made on him, but at the same
time he tried to make light of it. As a matter of fact, Ted had been running
east of St. Thomas before that. He was called to Windsor on March 2nd to run
east from there, but that was the first run west of St. Thomas.

H)Rh>llAI>()\VIN(;S.

lOI

•* The; morniiii,' of his (l(Mtli inv witr .ind (Liui^hler felt j^reatly depressed in
spirits all tli<; moniiiiif witliout Ix^nii^ al)le tn account lor it. Tho previous
morning, my daughter, lookinj^ at llic {^rounds in her tt-arup told her mother
that there wen; l(jts of iHMJple cominj; to the house in cahs an«l iarriaj;(;s. As a
matter of fact, many jieople did come to the house in cahs and carnages hi-fore
the funeral.

" After the funeral I went out to see tlu; pi, ice where l-idward was killed.
The wife of the section man told me that earl\- in the mornin;j; before the acci-
dent her husband ,L;ot up before da)li,i;iit and looked t)ut e.istward alom; the
track. He called out to her, ' What is that lij^ht doinij out there?' Slu; went
to the window to see the lif^ht, but it had disappe.ired. The section man
pointed out to me where the body of my son was found a few hours after, and
hi? wife told me it was the exact spot or exactly opposite the spot where he had
seen the light. He was not present when sIk^ told this.

" I am at present agent for the Cleveland, London I'v: Port Stanh^y Trans-
portation and Railway Company. My son, Must.ice, is now ticket agent for the
same company at St. Thomas. "Jons II. Thomsdn."

The statement of Eustace G. Thomson is dated at St. Thomas, April i,
1893, and is as follows : '• My brother, lulward Thomson, was killed this side
of the Thames l^iver b«,'lween the bridge <ind the watering tank on the air line
division of the Grand Trunk Railway, on March 3, 1893, at about 10.30 a.m.

" Either the night before or the second niglit before his death I was at
Farnham station on the Lake Shore & Michigan Southern Railway, twenty-live
miles southwest from l^uf^'alo. I was telegraph operator (day operator) and for
a few nights had been sleeping with Guy A. Cone, the station agent. About
midnight he and I were in bed. He was asleep. I had been asleep, but awoke
with a nervous uncomfortable feeling. I was obliged to get up, take a turn
about the room and look out the window. I then went back to bed, sat up in
it, and my mind turned then to brother Edward with a longing to be near him.
I put my arm on Mr. Cone and called out ' Ted ' ; then I lay on the bed and
groaned several times, after which the feeling left me and I went to sleep. Next
morning I asked Mr. Cone if I had not awakened him by my calling out, when
he said * no.'

" During the period I have spoken of I had a strong feeling of dread and
fear which I cannot describe.

'* The morning my brother was killed I was standing at my desk in the
office and was thinking that though I had been there over a year and other
operators were frequently receiving ' dead-head' messages I had never received
any. I sat down at once at my table, and with the thought in my mind. Im-
mediately there was a call over the wire; ' Fm. (Farnham).' 1 answered. Then

lo:

(ll.IMI'SKs ol 1 111': LNSKKN

tlie mcss;ij:;c read, giviiiL,' tho iiuinhrr, the sciuliiif; operator's initinls, then thir-
iteen (number of words), tluii d.li., and d.li. (ineaninj^ deadhead over tho two
■connectiii}; systems), and then the messaL,'e that my brother was injured. Shortiv
after that I received the sciond nu,'ssai;c that he was dead.

" The people at l"'arnham are all or nearly all (iermans, and I did not feel
like tellintr them what 1 had experienced. I came home at once tt) St. Thomas
and told m)- father and motiier what I had felt. I am almost certain that it was
tiie nij^ht befon- the accident that I had the feelin^^ I have mentioned. I w.is
twenty-one years of ai,'e last January.

" .\fter I arose the next morninj^' my mind was not stron<j;ly impressed v^ith
/jccurrences otherwise than it seemed curious. *' lusiAcr: (). Thomson."

The concluding statement was that of James l'"inch, whose e.xperiences
were more remarkable- and his impressions inore distinct and picturescjue than
any of those that have been mentioned. The statement was as follows :

•' I am nii,dit ai^ent and telegraph operatt)r on the Grand Trunk I'iailway at
St. Thomas.

' Between one and two weeks before Kdward Thomson's death I had jjone
home from my work at 7 a.m., had breakfasted and gone to bed about nine
o'clock. A little after one o'clock I woke up with the impression that a message
had come over the wires : ' Teddy Thomson is killed. Tell his father.'

*' There was no signature to the message. It came from the west, but I did
not recollect the station. I feel pretty certain that it did not state the
station. The impression it made on me woke me up. I had felt that I had
risen from my desk and gene to the ticket office door and taken the keys out of
my pocket to open it, thinking : ' Ilow shall I break the news to his father.'
Just then I woke up.

" I lay about an hour trying to sleep again, but could not. I usually sleep
soundly, without dreaming, until 6 p.m. 1 only remember once dreaming since
then.

" I sta\ed about the house until 7 p.m., when I went on duty again. I saw
Ted tiiat night and told him 1 had a dream about him and dreamed that he was
hurt, and wanted him to be very careful. He said he'd be careful, but. that he
did not believe in dreams. Next morning I went into the ticket office after his
father came. 1 told him I didn't believe much in dreams, but that I had a
dream about Teddy and wanted him to be very careful. I said the message
came from the west and Teddy always ran east. 1 said dreams always went by
contraries and probably this would.

"The impression remained strong on my mind from that time on. The
second night before he was killed I received a message from the assistant sup-
erintendent of the division to send two spare brakemen to Windsor to make a

I. H. O <\\\:. M.A.

ni
1.
]i
cl

cei
pe

the

arte

den

inte

den

stuc

side

lett<

H. '

mer
Eus
ular
acci
nigh

inJi(
exac
then
a bo I

^<)kK.^II AhOVMNfiS

lO!

fi w trips. I looked ;it the list ot spare hr-ikniicn, and s.iw i ;,it Clark and

nison stood for this (all. I sent out the caM-hoy to call thcni aciordini^'ly.
I ^^'me^1l)( r fcclin;,' ^lad that 1 h.id not had to lall him out ni his turn. leildy
iiad luen iall-l>oy for two years belor*- heconiinj; a hraktinan. lie was a
quiet, steady h(»\ , and I thouviht a >^ood deal of him.

'* The day lie was kille-d my wife woke me up to tell me. When she awoke
me it was ahout the same hour as that in whi( h I had receiveil the niess.jj^e I
have refe-rred to. I saw the messaj^e afterwards at the telej;raph oflice annoum-
in^ his death, it was the same in etVeet as the- nu;ssa;;e I had rei:riv(.'d in un-
dream, onlv worded ahout like this: • Rraketnan rho.nson is kilh^d. Let tin'
i.iiniiy know.'

"Having now Ik ard Mr. 'rhomson's slaleinent read i do not feel (|iiite so
certain as to my having iieard the messaj^e so lon^ before the accident haji-
pened, but I am pretty sure it was a week before. '•J.\mi:s I'^inch."

This was dated April 21st, 1893.

The above statements were written out by me from the dictation of Kustac e
G. Thomson, |ohn II. Thomson and James I'inch respectively, and sifj;iied by
them in my presence. Jami.s M. Coyne.

St. Thomas, O.it., April 21st, 1893.

Mr. Coyne in forwarding the foregoing,' statements wrote a letter in which
he sums up the value of the evidence, analyzing them with the keenest of
attorney's logic and attempting to gather from this suggestive network of inci-
dents the grain of incontestible fact that they contain. His letter is the more
interesting because it is from an attorney who understands the value of evi-
dence and because previous to this time Mr. Coyne had made no special
study of occult phenomena and was not prepared as most students of the night
side of psychology are for the startling conclusions to which he is forced. The
letter is dated April 24th, 1893.

" I enclose," he says, " the statements of Eustace G. Thomson, John
H. Thomson and James Finch with reference to the death of Edward Thomson.

*• The only important discrepancy between Farley's letter and these state-
ments are (i) In the former — written after a conversation with J. H. T. —
Eustace's experience is not in accord with the latter's statements in all partic-
ulars. (2) The date of Mr. Finch's dream as being at least a week before the
accident — although he is not positive — whilst Mr. Thomson gives it as the third
night before the accident.

** All are trustworthy persons, as their positions on the railway would
indicate even to those who do not know them, and I have no doubt of the
exact truth of their statements in substance, although, as is always the case,
there are slight discrepancies in unimportant details. There can be no doubt
about the following facts :

1 06

GMMl'Sl'S ()!• TIIK LNSI'.I'.N.

"The extraordinary impression produced on luistacc's mind, 150 nuics
aw.iy, one or two nights before his brother's death, causinj^ intense alarm ami
dread and a longin^jj to be with the brother.

" The fatlier's dream that Eustace had come houic K)okinfj; very sad, and
tlie stron<; imjiression it produced upon the lather -lastinf; until his son
ICdward's death, two or three days later.

"Mr. Finch's extraordinary dream oceurrin;^^ at the hour the messaj^e
actually arrived some days later, and in substance fjjivin.j^' the very terms of
the teles;ram which was received. The effect it produced on him preventing'
him from sleepinfj afterward, althouj^di he had sle)U only half his usua'
period; his mention of the fact to both Edward and his father; the continu-
ance of the impression until the accident haj)pen(;d ; these are facts as to
which there can be no doubt.

" Miss Thomson's remark about the visitors cominf^ to the house is one
that is so common that not much stress can be laid upon it. Eustace's im-
pression about the 'dead-head' message might be an afterthought. If not.
It is a case of telepathy or mental suggestion of which everybody knows
examples. His strange sensations during the night may also be connected with
the depression of the father's mind, and the latter may have been produced by
Mr. Finch's account of his dream. Edward's mind may also have been affected
by the same cause, and this may account for his reluctance to go out when
called, and his absent-mindedness which was remarked by the mother. Mental
suggestion would account for all these sensations and dreams.

"Mr. I'inch's dream is an instance of 'second sight,' projecting itself
into the future; and is, in my mind, the most extra. )rdinary part of the whole
affair."

There are some circumstances surrounding; the alfair that are not included
in eitlier of these stat(,Miients. Mrs. Thomson, the mother of the boy, as a
correspondent of 77/i' Tribune found her, is a tall, slender, dark-haired woman,
not much given to talk, but subject, one would av, lo ner\()us fears about
things, as some women are. It was she who first suggested something sinister
from the daughter's suggestion about the \v\\ grounds. There was another
circumstance which is connected in her mind with the man\- strange events that
preceded her son's death.

St. Thomas is a railway town. A large proportion of tin- men in the city
are empioxcd in on(? wa_\' or another upon the railwa\-. The call-l)o\-, therefore,
is (]uite an institution in the town. It is his dut\" to go at all times of night and
in all seasons to notify railway men that the\- are needed at the station. The
brakemen and conductors do not have any regular hours, but run on the "last
man in, the last man out " system.

Edward Thomson made his last trip on Thursda\- and was on his way home

FOR lis FLA DOW IXC IS.

107

again Friday inorninf^ wiicn he was killed. Wedncsd'iy tiight, about eleven
o'clock, Mrs. Thomson, heinj; ifi bed, heard footsteps on the porch and then a
knock at the door. She ^^H out of bed and looked out of the window but could
see no one. A moment later lur husb.md, who had just returned from the
lodge and had been standing some moments in front of the house, came and
found his wife at the window. She asked hmi if he had seen the call-bo\-, and
he said no. Then she told him about the knock she had heard. It worried her.

The next mornin;^ abcAit 5.3(1, when the call-boy came to call her son, she
again heard the knock and itarted up, sa)ing, "There's that knock again."

\'oung rh(»mson wilZ killed about ten o'clock as near as can be determined.
Mrs. Thomson had been feehn'4 depressed and worried about her son all the
morning, when about 10.30 she felt something in the back of her head. She
was strangely unhappy and distressed hom that time until she heard that her
son was dead.

Mr. Thomson is a solid looking man, not the least nervous, and inclined to
be skeptical about all manner of occult phenomena. He is, however, a man of
lather strong feeling, and has lor a long time recognized the fact that when any
misfortune was about to hapjien to the family he was likely to feel strangel)-
tiepressed for some days before the event occurred. He was considerably wor-
ried by his dream in regard to his son's return, but he did not refer his sensations
to his son Edward or connect it with Finch's dream, until after the accident
occurred.

James Finch is not by any means the ordinary telegraph operator. He is a
jnan of perhaps thirty-two years of age, with large, mild eyes, a smooth, clear
.skin and a heavy curly beard. He looks like a skilled mechanic, a man with a
conscientious, careful, mathematical mind. He says himself that he has a gr(;at
turn for machiner) and is alwavs devising things. He is a man of remarkably
well balanced though sensitive, nervous organization.

It has happened that he has had occasion several times to receive telegrams
very similar to the news of Tedd)- Thomson's death and he had to break the news.

Finch was esp*'cially fond of Tc;ddy Thomson bc^cause he was (|uiet and
faithful. He hated to see him go on the road as a brakeman. Finch had been
a brakeman himself, and knew the danger of it. He; had tried to dissuade the
boy i^rom going as a brakeman, but had not succeeded.

" I did not," he said, " think of the matter particularly when 1 lay down to
go to sleeji. I never permit ni\self lo think of anything. I do not think I was
entirely asleep when the dream came to me. It seemed to me then, and it does
yet, just as if the thing had actually happened. I was sitting right there at
the desk and I heard the instrument begin to tick. I sat down and copied the
message, and then picked it up and read it to make sure. You know when you
are taking; a messa^^e xou do it almost mechanically, and you do not always
know what \ ou have written until }ou look at il.

(•■l.lMl'Sr.S OK THK LNSKKN.

" I reniember goiiiij <nit of the little room in which the instrument is located
around outside to the door ot th(; ticket ollici-. 'I'here wasn't anyone in the
room at the time, and ! was ihinkinj^ how I should break the news to Mr. Thom-
son. I thought I would ask him if he was i)repared for b;ul news, and so break
it to him in that way. I'irst I thouj^ht of tellinj^ Mr. Smith, who I knew was in
the adjoining room, hut then I thought that he was such a blustery man he
would tell it in a blunt way. I rinally decided to do it myself and trust to the
moment for the inspiration to speak. I had ji. • put my hands on the door of
the ticket office to enter when I awoke.

" It was about the same hour a week or so later that 1 was notihed of
Tc^ddy's death. The fust words I said were: " My dream has come true." I
had not thought of it particularly before. It had entirely passed from my mind
at this time. It did not occur to me at all at the time that Teddy went out on
tliC road west. I was rather glad that he had the chance to go out there, for it
was considered a good run, but I remember distinctly that I had a feeling of
relief when I saw that his name; came on the roll in the regular order and thi.t
I was not obliged to call him out of his turn. You know when you are sending
out men that way if you call them out of their turn and anything happens you
feel sort of responsible.

" I went over in the ev(;ning to the house. I inquired for Mr. Thomson.
He was in the kitchen, and I went back there to see him. I remember that the
first thmg that he said was : ' This is your dream.'

" I have tried to recollect what station the telegram came from. As a
matter of fact the real telegram came from Middlemiss, and it seems to me now
that was where the telegram in my dream was dated, but I will not be cer-
tain. It may seem so to me now because I know that the real telegram came
from there, and I would not like to say. I am not in the habit of having dreams
of this kind. I have noticed this about me, however, that when I want to plan
something out if I go to bed and lie there I can plan it all out without much
difihculty."

The incident of the seeing of the light by the section foreman has not been
thoroughly investigated. The people are in an out-of-the-way place, and
opportunity has not yet offered itself of looking into the matter. It has been
suggested that the light seen might have been the reflection of the light from
within the house. The man said that it looked like a switchman's lantern down
in the hollow beside the tracks just opposite the place where the accident
occurred.

Young Thomson was killed in a singular way. There is a steep grade, and
just here the train parted. They had succeeded in getting the train together
again and Thomson was walking up toward the engine with the bell rope when
he slipped and fell between the cars, striking his head on the iron connecting

KORHSHADOWINC.S.

loy

s a
ovv
cer-
me
ms
an

oni
wn
jnt

ler
en

ing

rods, breakinfj; his neck and crushinjj; liis skull. He was dead before he striuk
the ground. The wife of the section foreman saw the iccidtnt from the window,
and says the train was already off the track at tl -. time the accident took
place.

Dr. R. M. Bucke, who has undertaken to investigate the singular story, is
exceedingly interesting and a man o[ continental reputation. He is the bio-
grapher of Walt Whitman, the disciple and friend of that strange plilosopher
and poet, and the only man who has written a biographv of Whitman that was
authorized by the subject. It was Dr. R. M. Bucke who was called to testify a
few months ago in the Veney murder case. He is the recognized authority on
mental diseases in Canada.

Dr. Bucke says the faculty of second sight is hereditar)- in the Thomson
family. He related a singular story about another member of the family who
had received a warning in her sleep of the death of a member of the family
which came true infallibly and in the most unexpected way.

" I have no doubt the laculty is hereditar)," the doctor said. " It must
be. Everything is hereditary. It is but reasonable to supj^ose that faculty is
transmitted like all others. If I remember rightly, tiiough I am not sure about
it, the faculty of second sight that used to be so common among the Scots was
transmitted through one generation to another and was confinea in certain
families. It is certainly hereditary in the Thomson family.

" The interesting point about the whole matter to me," he continued, " is
that hours and days before the accident occurred the thing was felt as an actual
thing by four or five persons."

'* Suppose you admit the fact that an event may project itself into the
minds of these people. Then it is easy enough to understand how the event
came to strike Finch with such force. Finch was in the direct road of the
event. He knew Teddy Thomson very well. He was interested in him. He
saw hmi every day go and come from the road. He was directly in the way of
the event. This is how he came to experience it. Finch's physical peculiarities
may have had something to do with it. Vou would naturally expect these
things to occur in certain kinds of nervous organism.

'* The fact about these strange experiences is that the human mind is pass-
ing into a new phase. These phenomena, which are increasing in number every
year, are connected with this larger thing that is coming to pass. They are
simply the consequences, the side issues.

" The human race, you must understand, is one organism, and it is growing
into its successive faculties, just as a child grows into his faculties. They are
there waiting for him, so to say. The child is the epitome of all past history.
The human mind has taken on one function after another and is going to keep
on taking on new faculties. These sporadic instances of what is known as

no CLIMI'SKS OF 11 IK L'NSICKN.

second siLjIu arc sirniily the si^^ns of a new consciousness that is niakin<; it^.
appc, nance.

" If you 1,^0 hack far cnouifh in the animal kinij;(lom you conv to a pcrio;]
in animal life when- there is a sinij)le consciousness. That is the sort of c;on-
sci(Hisness the monkeys and all the race of the mammalia jiossess. Hut in man
you see another and hin;her form tA consciousnc^ss. Man is conscious of him
self. He recoo;nises himself as an individual. There is comin<; into the worhl
a newer and hif^her consciousness."

It ajipears that Dr. Hucke has for main' xcars been enjj;a!j;ed in preparing;
a book on what he is jileased to call cosmic consciousness. The incident of tln'
prophecy of lildward Thomson's death was gathered and chronicled by him in
the interest of this book.

rSV("IIlCAL KESliARCIl.
Hy Jaiiifs r>. IIu:;Ir's, Inspector nf Piil)lic Sclmol-^, TDranlo, CaiiaiLi.

The followin<^ cases are submitted lor ihe consideration of students of
psNc'hical i)henomena :

r'lKsr Casi:. - In the \ear i8()-, I attended the Norma! School in T<-)r()nt().
I was then in my twcMitieth }ear. I had rooms with three other youn.j; men over
a small store in a (juiet jvirt of the city. Oi

n our rv turn trom school one evenini:

we found an old ne<:ress in the store, throu<j;h which
to our rooms. A 'dance re\ealed tlu' fact that si

we had to pass on our wa\

le w.is a renia

rkabl

e woman.

er ti''ure was tall and sli'

:ht. Her

iclion was i|uick, delmite aiul grace

■ful,

and her animated face ri'llected ver\- clearh' the flaslies of thought and feelit'.g

that

chased eac

h otl

ler throui

>h h

er mine

an(

hear

Her manner was weir

.-d.

and her look indicated a half deniented condition. \\'l:en we enter

:d th

e stort

she turned jiromptly from the jnoprietor, with whon she had been talking, and
alked quietly towards us. Her air of mystery av>ed us, ;ind we halted. She

came close to us

ancei

ran

idly fro

m om

lother, ;ui

d tl

len scizint: m\

-ight liand in hers and placing her left on ir.y forehead, she gazed searchingU-

into my e\es for some moments. Suddenly she said, " \
you an\thing }-ou ever did or anything you want to know.

oun<i man.

can

tell

ly we ask cjuestions, said one ot my companions

lauLrl

11 n<'

" Certainly," I said, treating the whole matter as a joke.

*' Why, you can't even tell his name," said one of them who had lived for
years on the farm adjoining my father's.

" His name is Hughes," she jiromntly answered.

This was a surprise, and my friend proceeded to make a more thorough
test of her pt)wer. *

What is
John."

his

fatl

icr s name

sai

he.

jA\ii;s L. inciiiEs,

'''■VT'f

the

hac

doc

seal

the

I w;

saic

toh

was

to t

broi

as d

the

farn

she
on 1:
"ar

will
cont

FORESHADOWINGS.

1 1

"His mother's?"

"Caroline."

" How many sisters has he ? "

" Seven."

" How many brothers ? "

"Three."

" What was he before coming to Toronto ? "

" A farmer."

" What direction is the well from the house on his father's farm ? "

"They haint got no well. Their water is carried in pipes from a spring?"

" In what year did he break his arm ? "

This was another catch question, but she was equal to the occasion.

" His arm was never broken ; don't try to be too smart, young man," said
she with an indignant look of reproof.

His question brought accidents to my recollection, and I asked, " What was
the worst accident that ever happened to me ? "

" The fall from the gig when the horse ran away with you," was her answer.

Associated in my mind with the runaway was the fact that my favorite dog
had been shot the day before the horse ran away. He was bitten by a mad
dog and had to be put aside. Some time before his death he was run over
by a loaded wagon, and when I ran to pick him up he bit me in his agony. The
scars were clearly visible on my hand. My friend's clever question recalled
the runaway, the death of my dog, and the fact that he bit me. Almost before
I was conscious of the fact that I was looking at the marks on my hand she
said : " He did not know what he was doing when he bit you." I was startled
to hear her express orally the thought that was passing through my mind. There
was now no possibility of doubting her power of mind reading. We proceeded
to test her along many lines, and always with the same result. Each question
brought the answer to my mind, and she spoke what I thought as quickly and
as definitely as I could have done. She had never seen me before. No one in
the whole city had known me until a short time previously, when I came from a
farm sixty miles away.

Mind-reading seemed to be quite a modest accomplishment, however, when
she revealed her greater powers. When we tired of questioning she proceeded
on her ov^m account: "You are attending the Normal, School now," said she
" and you will be a teacher in that school some day."

" Stick to history. Auntie," I replied, " your prophecy is absurd."

" What do you know about it, young man ? " she queried, " I tell you, you
will be appointed a teacher in that school before you are two years older," she
continued, speaking with much emphasis.

Nothing at that time seemed more absurd to me. I was only a few weeks

ill I

114

GLIMPSKS OF THIi UNSEEN.

from the farm. My highest ambition was to teach a village scIiOol, and I did
not allow her prophecy to raise a single hope in my mind ; but she was right. I
was appointed without an application. If an application had been necessary
I should not have obtained the situation. She proceeded to give me information
relative to my future, the wisdom of which was accurately shown by after years,
but her most remarkable statement was a prophecy which left but an hour for
its fulfilment :

"Before you take your tea to-night a gentleman will come to see you who
will be a relation of yours by your marriage.

It was nearly six o'clock when she spoke her prophecy. Only one gentleman
came to our rooms before we took tea. He came to borrow a book, and years
afterwards I married his cousin.

I knew Irving Bishop, I have witnessed Stewart Cumberland's remarkable
mind reading; but Mother Davis could read minds fluently, while they spelled
their syllables with difficulty. Her prophecies are to me inexplicable. No
foundation of even the most shadowy kind existed on which she could logically
base either of them, when she made them. None of my professors had ever
dreamed for an instant of my appointment as a teacher in the Normal School,
when she foretold it. No such hope had ever come to me, nor did I admit it
when she presented it to me. No one in authority ever knew till after I was ap-
pointed that she had made her prophecy ; so her opening up of the future could
have no possible influence in securing the fulfilment of her prophecy. This is
equally true in regard to my marriage. The lady who afterwards became my first
wife, and made me a " relation by marriage " to the gentleman who visited us on the
evening Mrs. Davis called was a fellow-student of mine at the Normal School, but
my interest in her was not aroused by anything Mrs. Davis said. We continued
at school for nearly a year after her prophecy, and even attended the same Sunday-
school, yet we did not become acquainted. I left the city to teach in the
country, and became engaged to another lady. I was appomted to a position in
the practice department of the Normal School unexpectedly. I resided in the
city for nearly a year before I visited the lady whom I married. During this
time the possibility of our union had not presented itself to me. We were
brought together at last by a chain of circumstances that resulted from no
effort of ours, but were wrought out by the absoiute overthrow of our plans by
■causes over which we had no control.

Second Case. — My father was born in the northerii part of Ireland. His
grandmother was especially fond of him, and her affection was returned warmly.
Soon after his marriage he came to Canada. His grandmother was still alive ;
her health was good, and her love for him had lost none of its vitality. She
remained in Ireland.

FORKSHADOWINGS.

I am his oldest child, and I well remember one Sunday morning hearing
him relate the following experience to my mother :

" I was awakened about three o'clock by a loud rapping at the door of my
bed-room. I sat up in bed, and asked, ' Who's there ? ' I heard the answer
distinctly and very definitely : ' Your grandmother is dead.' I got up and
opened the door, but could find no one ; and I heard no more."

He aroused my mother and told her at once the strange story I heard him
repeating in the morning. He told the story to his brother and other neighbors
alter church the same day. Some of these neighbors had known his grand-
mother in Ireland. In due time a letter came announcing the old lady's death.
Making the lecessary allowance for the difference in time in Ireland and in
Canada, she died at the exact time the announcement was made to him.

How was the message conveyed ? To say, " he dreamt it," leaves the
mystery unsolved. The fact still remains that he announced the death of his
grandmother, thousands of miles away, weeks before the fact was communicated
by letter, and a few seconds after she passed away. It makes the case still more
remarkable to know that he had no knowledge of her illness.

My father is a man weighing more than two hundred pounds, and possessed
of extraordinary physical strength. He has always had receptive telepathic
power which frequently enabled him to announce events of importance occuring
to members of his family at a distance without any information by the ordinary
channels of communication.

JEUSS, THE SON OF ANANUS.
A Case of Prevision as related by Josephus.

Four years before the war began, when Jerusalem was in very great peace
and prosperity, Jeuss, the son of Ananus, a plebeian and a husbandman, who
came to the Feast of Tabernacles which is celebrated every year in the temple
to the honor of God, began on a sudden to cry aloud, " A voice from the east,
a voice from the west, a voice from the four winds, a voice against Jerusalem
and the holy house, a voice against the bridegrooms and the brides, and a voice
against the whole people 1 " This was his cry as he went about by day and by
night in all the lanes of the city. However, certain of the most eminent among
the populace had great indignation at the dire cry of his, and took up the man,
and gave him a great number of severe stripes ; yet did he not either say any-
thing for himself or anything peculiar to those that chastised him, but still he
■went on with the same words which he cried before.

Hereupon, our rulers, supposing, as the case proved to be, that this was a
sort of divine fury in the man, brought him to Albinus, governor of Judea, where
he was whipped till his bones were laid bare ; yet did he not make any supplica-
tion for himself, nor shed any tears ; but turning his voice t j the most lament-

it5

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEFN.

able tone possible, at every stroke of the whip liis answer was, '* Woe, woe to
Jerusalem 1 " And when Albinus asked him who he was, and whence he came,
and why he uttered such words, he made no manner of reply to what he said,
but still did not leave off his melancholy ditty, till Albinus took him to be a
madman, and dismissed him. Now, durinj; all the time that passed before the
war began, this man did not go near any of the citizens, nor was seen by them
while he said so ; but he every day uttered these lamentable words, as if it were
his premeditated vow, '* Woe, woe to Jerusalem." Nor did he give ill words
to any of those that beat him every day, nor good words to those that gave him
food. This was all he said, and his cry was loudest at the festivals. He con-
tinued this ditty for seven years and five months, without growing hoarse or be-
ing tired therewith, until the very time when he saw his presage in earnest
fulfilled in our siege, when it ceased ; for, as he was going round upon the wall,
he cried out with his utmost force, " Woe, woe to the city again, and to the
people, and to the holy house ! " And just as he added, at the last, " Woe,
woe to myself, also," there came a stone out of one of the engines, and smote
him, and killed him immediately ; and as he was uttering the very same presage
he gave up the ghost.

Saint Gregory of Tours, the best historian of the fifteenth century, has
included in his writings an anecdote of an equally confirmatory nature.

THE VISION OF ST. AMBROSE.

On the day of the death of Saint Martin, at Tours (anno 400), Saint
Ambrose was informed of the event whilst he was celebrating the mass in the
church at Milan. It was customary for the reader to present himself with the
book before the officiating priest, and not to read the lesson until he had received
his orders to do so. It happened, however, on the Sunday of which we are
speaking, that while the person, whose duty it was to read the epistle of Saint
Paul, was kneeling before the altar. Saint Ambrose, who was celebrating the
mass, fell asleep.

Two or three hours had passed without any one venturing to disturb
him. At length they informed him how long the people had been waiting. "Be
not disturbed," he said; "it has been a great happiness to me to sleep, since
God has chosen to show me a miracle ; for know that Martin, my brother
bishop, is about to die. I have assisted at his funeral — the usual service was
completed, and only the capitulum remained to be said, when you awoke me."

The assistants were greatly surprised. They noted the day and the hour,
and it was subsequently ascertained that the moment of the blessed con-
fessor's departure exactly corresponded to the time when Bishop Ambrose had
assisted a; ihe celebration of his funeral.

CHAPTER IV.

MEMORY.
By the Rev. I'rincip.il Austin, D.A.

EMORY is one of the richest ^ifts of the great Creator to mankind. Kant
pronounces it the most wonderful of the faculties. Without it, man
becomes an imbecile, life is robbed of many of its richest joys, and im-
provement and progress are impossible. With it, we live over again the joys
and sorrows, successes and defeats of the past, and these remembered experi-
ences become guide-boards or gleaming danger-signals for future conduct.
Memory thus retains for us the seeds of wisdom gathered by life's wayside. He
who forgets profits little by his past life. Like the sieve, he receives much and
retains nothing.

To those who live in accordance with wisdom and virtue, memory becomes
a fruitful source of delight as life advances. It recalls the joyous intercourse of
past days, the innocent pleasures of childhood, the performance of virtuous
deeds, and the reception of acts of kindness from others — making the past life
one long gallery of pleasant pictures. It is true it recalls the sorrowful experi-
ences of life also, but these have lost their bitterness, and to every cloud in
memory's horizon there is the silver lining of succeeding joy. Often in the
midst of present sorrow, memory flashes the golden rays of the delightful ex-
perience of past days upon us. Who, in the midst of trouble, has not received
at least temporary relief by viewing the pictures memory has presented to his
mind — bright hours, when happiness reigned in heart and home ; fair days, when
love was his companion ; glad moments, when life was rich with joy ?

To those whose lives violate the laws of morality and virtue, memory must
become a source of suffering. And no suffering in the short span of our mortal
lives, is more acute than the memory of our own acts which have violated
conscience and the laws of God. If the functions of memory continue in the
life to come — and without memory there can be no conscious identity — it seems
inevitable that it shall become a source of joy to the virtuous and a fountain of
bitter waters to the wicked.

As a general rule the remembrance of past pleasures is pleasant, and, as has
been well said, "he who imparts an hour's real enjoyment to another, increases
the sum of his happiness wh?" the memory of it lasts." Sidney Smith declares :
"If you make children happy now, you make them happy twenty years hence by
the memory of it."

Metaphysicians have given a great variety of definitions to the memory.
Dr. Reid, in his work on "The Human Mind," reviews not only the theories of

ii8

(il.IMISKS ()!• INK UNSKKN.

the ancient F'latonists and Peripatetics, but also the more modern theories of
Locke, Hume, and other philosophers, and after exposin;:; their fallacies, sums
up in these words : •• Thus, where iihilosoi)hers have piled one supposition on
another, as the giants piled the mountams in order to scale the heavens, it is all
to no purpose — memory remains unaccountable, and we know as little how we
remember thin<;s past as how we are conscious of those present."

Cicero likens the memory to a treasury, in which is stored up acfjuired
knowlcdf,'e to be used when occasion demands. IMato likens it to a tablet on
which accjuired knowledj,'e is enfjraved. Locke says : " Memory is the power to
revive again in our minds those ideas which, after imprinting, have disappeared,
or have been laid aside out of sight." Addison says of memory : ** It is like
those repositories of animals that are filled with stores of food, on which they may
ruminate when their present pasture fails." Dr. Walsh says : '* Memory hath
no special part of the brain devoted to its own service, but uses all those parts
which subserve our sensations, as well as our thinking powers." Glanvill says:
" Things are reserved in the memory by some corporeal exuviae and material
images which, having impinged on the common sense, rebound thence into some
vacant cells of the brain." (}assendi compares memory to linen or paper folded
up, containing carefully within its folds the truths which are wrapped up for
future use.

Memory is defined as the power or capacity of having what was once present
to the senses or the understanr'ng suggested again to the mind, accompanied by
a distinct consciousness of its past existence. When we come in a subsequent
chapter to discuss the laws which govern memory we shall see, that in place of
a single function of the mind, memory really includes several mental activities,
and these require separate education and training if we would have a strong and
serviceable memory.

Plutarch calls memory '* the larder of the soul from which it takes its food
and sustenance." John Locke styles it *' the storehouse of our ideas," and
Robert Hall, " the master of the rolls of the soul," while Seneca declares '* a man
without memory is a madman or an idioc." Lord Tennyson, in one of his
beautiful odes thus glorifies memory :

" Thou who stealest fire
From the fountains of the past
To glorify the present ; O haste !

Visit my low desire.
Strengthen me ! Enlighten me I
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory."

Among the Greeks, memory was a goddess to be revered and worshipped,
under the name Mnemosyne. She was represented as the daughter of heaven

MI.MORY.

119

and earth, and the mother of the nine Muses who presided over litenture, music,
and art. In this, they roco^^iiizcd the fact that for all proj^ress in knowlcdj^e and
art, mankind was indebted to memory.

Dr. Watts, speakin<^ of memory, in his work '• On the Improvement of the
Mind," observes : "All the other relations of the mind borrow from hence their
beauty and perfection, for other capacities of the soul are almost useless v/ithout
this. To what purpose are all our labors in wisdom and knowledge, if we want
memory to preserve and use what we have accjuired .-* Wliat signify all other
intellectual or spiritual improvements, if they are lost as soon a:: they are ob-
tained ? It is memory alone that enriches the mind by preserving what our labor
and industry daily collect. . . Without memory, the soul would be but a
poor, destitute, naked being, with an everlasting blank spread over it, except the
fleeting ideas of the present moment."

Like all other powers of the human mind, the memory is capable of vast
improvement. Its capacity is, in truth, unlimited. Hy rational methods, it may
be strengthened and rendered more serviceable to its possessor, and by lack of
attention to the laws which govern this faculty, as well as by irrational methods
of memory training, it may be weakened and rendered comparatively useless.
While everyone admits the value of a strong and active memory, it is doubtless
a fact that the best period of life for memory culture is allowed to pass without
any systematic efforts at strengthening this important faculty. Parents and
teachers, by a little daily attention to rational memory training, could confer
untold advantages on the youth committed to their care. So far from giving
proper attention to this subject, the methods adopted in many schools directly
tend to the injury of this faculty. We need hardly refer to the cramming process
which overburdens the memory, the •' learning by rote," which often develops
sensational to the neglect of intellectual memory and the failure of teachers to
instruct their pupils in the important work of systematic arrangement of the
facts acquired.

IS MEMORY ETERNAL ?

Sir William Hamilton and some other philosophical writers are of the
opinion that what has once been apprehended by the mind is never utterly lost.
Not that we all fully remember everything that we once knew, so as to be able
to recall at will our previously acquired knowledge, but that it still somewhere
remains engraven upon the tablets of the brain. On the contrary, Locke says :
" Ideas quickly fade after vanishing quite out of the understanding, leaving no
more footsteps or remaining characters of themselves than shadows do in flying
over a field of corn." The opinion of Thackeray is different. He says : " It is
an old saying that we forget nothing, as people in a fever suddenly begin to talk
the language of their infancy ; we are stricken by memory sometimes, and old

' y

1 20

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

i'.V

affections rush back on us as vivid as in the time when they were our daily talk ;
when their presence gladdened our eyes ; when, with passionate tears and grief,
we flung ourselves upon their hopeless corpses. Parting is death — at least as far
as life is concerned. Passion comes to an end ; it is carried off in a coffin, or
weeping in a postchaise ; it drops out of life one way or the other, and the earth-
clods close over it and we see it no more. But it has been part of our souls and
is eternal."

Hail! Memory, hail! in tliy exhaustless mine,
From age to age unnumbered treasures shine 1
Thought and her shadowy brood, thy call obey,
And place and time are subject to thy sway.

Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain
Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain ;
Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads arise.
Each stamps his image as the other flies !

Sweet Memory ! wafted by thy gentle gale
Oft up the stream of Time I've turned my sail I
To view the fairy haunts of long-lost hours.
Blest with far greener shade, far fairer flowers.

— Rogers.

PHENOMENAL MEMORIES.

Nature shows her accustomed partiality in the bestowal of the powers of
memory. Some few have really great memories, others feeble memories, while
most men have good native powers in this regard. But, as in the case of the
talents, five gained other five, and two, other two, when employed, and the one
talent hid, remained one talent, so the native powers of memory may, by exercise
and training, be increased even many fold. The main differences between men,
so far as the practical value of memory is concerned, depends much more on the
way in which they have developed their memories, than upon the greatness of
their natural powers.

In this chapter, we direct attention to certain persons of ancient and others
of modern times, who were, doubtless, endowed with more than average powers
of memory, and whose training had fortunately been favorable to its higher
development. It may be that none of our readers will ever possess similar
powers to those about to be recounted, yet the recital may serve to show the
truth of the statement already made : that there is really no limit to the develop-
ment of memory. If this be true, it should encourage every one, however mod-
erate his native powers of memory, to persist in regular and systematic efforts
for the strengthening of this faculty.

Lord Macauley had a phenomenally powerful memory. When only three
or four years of age he took in whole pages of what he read. His mind at that

MEMORY.

Ill

time would seem to have mechanically retained the form of what he read. His
maid said he '* talked printed words." Once, when a child, when making an
afternoon call with his father, he picked up Scott's " Lay of the Last Minstrel,"
for the first time. While his seniors were conversing he quietly devoured the
treasure. When they returned home the boy went to his mother, who, at that
time was confined to her bed, and, seating himself beside her, repeated what he
had read by the canto, until she was tired. In after life, one day at a board
meeting at the British museum, Macaulay wrote down from memory, in three
parallel columns on each side of four pages of foolscap, a complete list of the
Cambridge senior wranglers with daces and Colleges attached, for the lOO years
during which a record of the n'lmes had been kept in the university calendar.
Many other examples of this kind, showing Macaulay 's wonderful memory
might be presented ; he once said, if all existing copies of " Paradise Lost " and
" Pilgrim's Progress" were destroyed, he could restore them from memory.

Magliabechi, court librarian at Florence, was the literary prodigy of his

times. He had crammed into his head the contents of an immense library. He

,ould, upon demand, not only supply any quotation desired, but was c "so able

to give page and paragraph. He at last became regardless of all social and

sanitary rules and almost rotted amid a confused heap of books.

Jedediah Buxton, who died in 1774, possessed a remarkable memory. Al-
though a schoolmaster, he was so illiterate he could scarcely scrawl his own
name. On one occasion he mentioned the quantity of ale he had drunk since he
was twelve years old, and the names ot the gentlemen who had given it to him.
The whole amounted, he said, to five thousand one hundred and sixteen pints,
or "winds," as he termed them, because, like the toper Bassus, he emptied his
jug at one draught. Although he had received very little instruction in arith-
metic, and had never been assisted in his youth, beyond learning the multipli-
cation table, yet, without the aid of pen or pencil, he could multiply five or six
figures by so many, and in a much shorter time than it could be done by the
most expert arithmetician. The product of the sum, which in his memory he
had worked out, he would repeat, if it were required, a month afterward. He
could, moreover, leave ofT the operation, and, without the slightest error, resume
it at the end of a week or a month, or even after several months.

Dr. Abernethy had a singularly retentive memory. One day he invited a
company of friends to do honor to his wife's birthday, when one of the guests of
a poetical turn of mind, composed some verses complimentary to Mrs, Aber-
nethy. The doctor listened attentively to the reading of them, and then ex-
claimed, " come, that is a good joke, to attempt to pass off those verses as your
own composition, I know them by heart." All were mute with astonishment,
while Dr. Abernethy recited the verses without a single error. The *' poet " was
completely amazed, mystified, and angry. The amused host explained his

[22

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

power of memory, and offered to repeat any piece of the same length that any of
the company would recite.

There are recorded accounts of persons both in ancient and in modern
times possessed of powers of memory so stupendous as almost to stagger belief.
As in the case of Goldsmith's school-master, we wonder that " one small head "
could carryall they knew. Such were the memories of Theodectes and Hortensius,
and Cineas, ofwhom Cicero speaks. The latter being sent on an embassy to
Rome, was able, the day after his arrival, to address all the senators and knights
by name. Hortensius, after coming out of the sale room., was able to repeat the
auction list backward.

Mr. Stanton, Secretary of War during the rebellion, had a fine memory.
One evening, in the early part of 1868, Dickens, then on a reading tour in this
country, was dining with Charles Sumner, Stanton being present. To the
surprise of Dickens, Mr. Stanton was able to repeat from memory a chapter from
any of the novelist's works. Mr. Stanton explained that during the war he had
formed the habit of invariably reading something by the author of '* Pickwick "
before going to bed.

It is related of Dr. John Leyden " that after he had gone to Calcutta, a
case occurred where a great deal turned on the exact wording of an Act of
Parliament, of which, however, a copy was not to be found in the Presidency.
Leyden, who, before leaving home, had had occasion to read over the Act^
undertook to supply it from memory ; and so accurate was his transcript that
when, nearly a year after, a printed copy was obtained from England, it was
found to be identical with what Leyden had dictated."

Cyrus, it is said, knew the name of every soldier in his army. Otho, the
Roman Emperor, owed, in a great measure, his accession to the Empire to his
prodigious memory. He had learned the name of every soldier of his army
when he was their companion as a single officer, and used to call every one by
his proper name. The soldiers being flattered by such attention, persuaded
themselves that such an Emperor could not forget in his favors those whose
names he so well remembered. They all, therefore, declared for him and en»
abled him to overthrow his rival.

Seneca, the distinguished Roman senator and philosopher, speaking of
memory, says: — ■" Age has done me many injuries and deprived me of many
things that I once had, it has dulled the sight of my eyes, blunted the sense of
my hearing, and slackened my nerves. Among the rest I have mentioned is the
memory, a thing that is the most tender and frail of all the parts of the soul, and
which is first sensible to the assaults of age ; heretofore this so flourished in me
that I could repeat two thousand names in the same order as they were spoken."

John Fuller, a land agent, of the county of Norfolk, could correctly write
out a sermon or lecture after hearing it once ; and one, Robert Dillon, could, m

MEMORY.

123

the morning, repuat six columns of a newspaper which he had read the preceding;
evening. More wonderful still was George Watson, who, while in other respects
the type of the hobbledehoy and country bumpkin, could tell the date of every
day since his childhood and how he had occupied himself on that day.

Richard Person, professor in the University of Cambridge, was alike dis-
tinguished for his learning and his memory. He had t' . Greek authors, book,
chapter, verse, and line at the tip of his tongue. When a lad at Eton, as he
was going to his Latin lesson, one of the boys, wishing to play him a trick, took
his Latin Horace^ from him, and slipped into his hand some English book. Por-
son, however, who had learned Horace by heart before he went to Eton, was
nothing disconcerted at the trick, but when called upon to begin, opened the
English book which had been placed in his hand, and without hesitation com-
menced, and went on regularly, construing the Latin into English with the
greatest ease. The tutor, perceiving some signs of amusement and mirth among
the boys, and suspecting there was something uncommon in the affair, asked
Porson what edition of Horace he had in his hand. " 1 learned the lesson from
the Delphin edition," replied the pupil, avoiding a direct reply. " That is very
odd," said the master, ** for you seem to be reading on a different page from
myself. Let me see the book." The truth, of course, came out, and the master
said he would be happy to find other pupils acquitting themselves as well under
similar circumstances.

Mezzofanti, is said to have known seventy different languages and dialects
and upon one occasion to have succeeded, after twenty-four hours' study, in
readily conversing in a language which before was entirely unknown to him, and
which seemed totally different from all he knew. An old beggar of Stirling,
some years ago, yclept Blind Aleck, knew the whole of the bible by heart, so
that he could give verse, chapter, and book for any quotation, or vice versa,
correctly give the language of any given verse.

Wesley tells us in his Journal of a young Irish preacher, who had such a
knowledge of the Greek Testament and such powers of memory, that on the
mention of any word from the Greek text, he would at once tell you all the various
passages in which the word occurred, and the different shades of meaning in
each. Charles Dickens, it is said, could, after passing down a street for the first
time, tell you the names of the shop-keepers in order, and the kind of business
in which each was engaged.

In the old days of Louisiana many of the representatives were Creoles, who
could scarcely speak a word of English.

On account of the large Creole element in the State all Acts of the Legislature
were obliged to be published in both French and English, and all speeches made
in the Senate were rendered in both languages. For many years General Horatio
Davis, of New Orleans, Clerk of the Senate, translated all the speeches and such

■'4

134

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

was his memory, that, after listening to a speech an hour or two long he would
immediately deliver it in the other language, and with perfect accuracy. And
this was accomplished without the use of any notes, and apparently without any
effort.

No one could have filled his place, and his services were so highly appreci-
ated and widely known that rival candidates for the office rarely presented
themselves.

It is said, the Athenian, Themistocles, knew the name of every one of the
20,000 citizens of Athens. Morphy, the celebrated chess player, could play
several games of chess simultaneously, without seeing any of the boards on
which the various games were being conducted. The great thinker, Pascal, is
said never to have forgotten anything he had ever known or read, and the same
is told of Hugo, Grotius, Liebnitz, and Euler. All knew the whole of Virgil's
" iEneid" by heart. The great critic, Joseph Scaliger, used to say of himself
that he had a bad memory. Yet this good man, with his bad memory, complains
that it took him twenty-one days to learn the whole of Homer by heart ; he had
to devote three months to learning in like manner the whole of the remaining
Greek poets, and in two years he succeeded in getting by heart the whole range
of classical authors.

" Memory Corner Thomson," a resident of London, in 1820, had phenom-
enal powers of recollection. He could take an inventory of the contents of a
house from cellar to attic merely from memory, and could afterwards write out
a list containing every article from memory.

Sir Benjamin Brodie, in his " Psychological Inquiries," cites the instance
of the celebrated Jesuit, Suarez, who is said to have known by heart the whole
of the works of St. Augustine. As these consist of eleven huge folio volumes
they give some idea of the capacity of the memory that was able to take them
all in and retain the whole ; for it is said that if ever any one misquoted St,
Augustine, Suarez would at once correct the quotation, and give it with literal
accuracy.

Woodfall, brother of the Woodfall who was Junius's publisher and editor of
the London Morning Chronicle, would attend a debate, and, without notes,
report it accurately next morning. He was called Memory Woodfall."

Ben Jonson said of himself : " I can repeat whole books that I have read,
and poems of some selected friends, v/hich I have liked to charge my memory
with." Avicenna repeated by rote the entire Koran when he was only ten years
old. Justus Lipsius, on one occasion, offered to repeat all the " History " of
Tacitus without a mistake, on forfeit of his life.

The following is a quotation from Monte Christo, by Alexander Dumas.
Dantes and the learned and shrewd Abbe Faria have been conversing, and the
latter remarks : "I possessed nearly 5,000 volumes in my library at Rome, but

MEMORY.

■-5

after reading them over many times I found out that with 150 well-chosen books
a man possesses a complete analysis of all human knowledj^e, or at least of all
that is either useful or desirable to be acquainted with. I devoted three years
of my life to reading and studying these 150 volumes, till I knew them nearly by
heart. So that, since I have been in prison, a very slight elRirt of memory has
enabled me to recall the contents as readily as though the papers were open
before me. I could recite you the whole of Thucydides, Zenophon, Plutarch,
Titius Livius, Tacitus, Strada, Jornandes, Dante, Montaigne, Shakespeare,
Spinoza, Machiavel, and Bossuet. Observe, I merely quote the most important
names of interest."

Nor are these powers confined to gifted individuals. They are possessed by
ordinary individuals, and manifested often under what is called by physicians,
Hypermnesia, or exaltation of memory, due to some change in the physical con-
dition. This occurs frequently in fevers, in mania, ecstasy, hypnotism and
hysteria. It is also frequently present in case of imminent death, when the
whole life passes in review in a few seconds, facts and ever, s long forgotten
rushing with incalculable speed through the consciousness. During fever, the
language of childhood, long disused and forgotten, has been recalled. A man of
remarkably clear head was crossing a railway in the country, when an express
train, at full speed, appeared closely approaching him. He had just time to
throw himself down in the centre of the road between the two lines of rails, and
as the train passed over him the sentiment of impending danger to his very ex-
istence, brought vividly to his recollection every incident of his former life in
such an array as that which is suggested by the promised opening of " the Great
Book at the last great day."

Nor are these phenomenal powers of memory confined to gifted individuals
and persons in abnormal condition. They are often possessed by entire classes
and races as the direct result of memory training. The natives of India have
remarkable memories. It is a well-known fact that an Indian druggist may have
hundreds of jars, one above the other from floor to ceiling, not one containing a
label, yet he never hesitates, placing his hand on the right vessel when a drug
is required. The ordinary washermen go round to houses with their donkeys
and collect clothes, some from one house, some from another. These they carry
to the river and wash, and in returning with the huge pile never fail to deliver
each article to the rightful owner.

In Brittany, the peasants still recite the ancient oral traditions of their race.
The tenacity with which the Briton clings to the habits and belief of his fore-
fathers is shown by his retention to the Celtic language, and by his quaint
costume. The Briton peasants will repeat a legend or story with scrupulous
fidelity to the established form in which they have always heard the incidents
related. They will instantly check a stranger who attempts to deviate from the

■ III

11
ill:

1;' I

llll

iU^i

196

r.MMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

orthodox version with " Nay, the story should begin thus," repeating the regular
formula of the tale.

During the persecution of the Waldenses, in the thirteenth century, when
their version of the Scriptures was prohibited and destroyed wherever found,
their ministers committed whole books of the sacred volume to memory, and
repeated chapters at their religious meetings. Even the lady members could
repeat passage after passage with the utmost facility and accuracy. Reiner
could neither read nor write, yet was able to repeat the entire book of Job.

That great Scottish philosopher, Dugald Stewart, himself a striking example
of great memory power, says: "On the superficial view of the subject, the
original differences among men, in their capacity of memory, would seem to be
immense; but there is reason for thinking that these differences are commonly
overrated, and that due allowances are not made for the diversity of appearance,
which the human mind must necessarily exhibit in this respect, in consequence
of the various walks of observation and of study to which mankind are led,
partly by natural propensity and partly by accidental situation."

There is good reason for believing that it is clearly within the compass of
the average memory to master and recall at will every syllable of the Holy
Scriptures. G, C. Leland says : " It is recorded of a Slavonian Oriental Sect
called the Bogomiles, which spread over Europe during the middle ages, that
its members were required to memorize the Bible verbatim. Their latest hist-
orian, Dragomanoff, declares that there were none of them who did not memorize
the New Testament at least; one of their bishops publicly proclaimed that, in
his own diocese of four thousand communicants, there was not one unable to
repeat the entire scriptures without an error.

As an illustration of great powers of memory, often found in common life,
we insert the following interesting article from The Call^ of San Francisco :

In an Italian restaurant on O'Farrell street, there is a waiter who has a
memory greater than that possessed by Memnon, or by a disappointed office-
seeker. Better still, his bank account is longer than his wonderful memory.

A wonder in many things is Mariani, for that is the name of the little man
with the big memory. Many were the stories related in reference to the food-
bearer's in:omprehensible brain faculties, before I decided to test them for my-
self. " Why", said a Bohemian friend while relating some of Mariani's perform-
ances, "there is less likelihood of his forgetting a face or dish, than of Chris.
Buckley, 'the blind devil ' failing to remember a voice. He will not only recog-
nize one after a year's absence, but will also remember what your last meal
consisted of. Don't believe it. eh ? Well you can put him to a test and decide
for yourself."

So it was agreed to put the little waiter's memory to a most rigid test. It
was on Christmas eve, 1891, that t'vo weary, hungry reporters entered the

(

n
I
c

d
t

MEMORY.

ia7

ffc-taurant where Mariani is employed Hundreds of persons were dining there,
and scarcely two order the same dishes.

" Hello, Shortponcil " was Mariini's greeting as he quickly appeared by my
friend's side, " regular dinner to-night or the same as you had last time ? "

In order tliat there might be a fair test Shortpencil insisted that I should do
the ordering, I did so, and the meal wad a most satisfactory one. The circum-
stance had almost entirely escaped my memory, and I had forgotten there was
such a person in the world as a disciple of the great Memnon, in the person o(
the modest little waiter, and was wondering; where to dine when Shortpencil
accosted me. This was Christmas eve, 1892, just one year after our dinner was
served by Mariani.

" Been to dinner ? No, well let's go to see Mariani. I'll wager you a small
bottle of extra dry that he can repeat the dinner, dish for dish, without a single
order."

The wager was accepted, and half an hour later we were seated in the
O'Farrell street restaurant. Mariani was soon before us with a large bottle of
claret in his hands.

" Good evening," said he to Shortpencil, and turning to me he added, '* and
how are you ? It must be nearly a year since you were last here ?"

Already his memory was beginning to assert itself. "Now then, gentlemen,"
he continued, " will you have a regular dinner or the same as last time ? "

" Same," said Shortpencil. Then my own memory of the meal twelve
months before was revived as each delicacy appeared in the same order as before.
First came the large bottle of Burgundy, with two small glasses and plenty of
cracked ice. Shrimp salad, ox tail soup, Italiarena, broiled flounder, roast teal
duck, and rum omelette, came in their regular order without a word being spoken
to Mariani.

"You had Oregon cheese last time " explained the knight of the napkin,
when it was time for dessert, " but we have a new brand which you will find
even nicer."

'* Give us the same as before," was the order.

By this time I began to marvel at the man's memory, and to realize that I
was about to lose the wager.

But there were several things yet to come before the first dinner had been
entirely duplicated. Mariani was equal to the occasion, however, and without
the least hesitation completed the meal by supplying black coffee, cognac, and
the same brand of cigars we had spoken before.

Shortpencil chuckled gleefully several hours later as he helped consume
the champagne Mariani's memory had won for him. " Don't feel bad," he said
soothingly, as he held the sparkling liquid to the light, '* I lost a similar bet two
years ago. Had to get even some way, you know."

128

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEKN

Several days later I learned more about Mariani. For thirty years he has
worked in the same restaurant, and has judiciously invested his savings. In
addition to severed houses and lots he owns a big factory in South San Francisco,
that supplies many of the delicacies he daily serves to patrons of the restaurant.

" Yes, he is a wonder," said the proprietor of the restaurant, when asked
about Mariani, "and although he has accumulated a fortune, you could not hire
him to quit his occupation as a waiter. As he declares himself, he was born to
be a waiter, and a waiter he will be till called to that land where edibles are not
required."

The geographer Maretus, narrates an instance of memory probably un-
equalled. He actually witnessed the feat, and had it attested by four Venetian
nobles. He met in Padua, a young Corsican who had so powerful a memory
that he could repeat as many as 36,000 words read over to him only once.
Maretus, desiring to test this extraordinary youth, in the presence of his friends,
read over to him an almost interminable list of words strung together anyhow
in every language, and some mere gibberish. The audience was exhausted
before the list, which had been written down for the sake of accuracy, and at the
end of it the young Corsican smilingly began and repeated the entire list without
a break and without a mistake. Then to show his remarkable power, he went
over it backward, then every alternate word, first and fifth, and so on until his
hearers were thoroughly exhausted, and had no hesitation in certifying that the
memor}' of this individual was without a rival in the world, ancient or modern.

Such instances of marvelous linguistic faculty as that possessed by Mezzo-
fanti, and the fairly numerous calculating prodigies who have astonished the
world by their facile juggling with figures, are all practically varieties of specially
developed memory power, and the same may be said of the great chess players,
who are able to play a number of games simultaneously without seeing any of
the boards.

Less common, and certainly not less remarkable is the association of mem-
mory with the sense of sight shown by a painter, of Cologne, who, when a valu-
able painting by Reubens had been taken by the French from the church of St.
Peter, in that city, undertook to make an exact copy from recollection, and
succeeded so well in reproducing the most delicate tints of the original with the
minutest accuracy that when the lost painting was ultimately restored, it was
scarcely possible todistinguish one from another, even on the most minute scrutiny.

Years ago there was a strolling player in Edinburgh, named William Lyon,
who had an astonishing memory. Once he wagered that at next morning's re-
hearsal he would repeat the whole of The Daily Advertiser from beginning to
end. " This task," we are told, '* he accomplished without making the slightest
error, through all the varieties of advertisements, price ol stocks, domestic and
foreign news, accidents, offenses, and law intelligence." Dr. Macklin reported

mi;m()RV,

139

the performance of a similar feat by another man, who, when complimented on
his success, replied that it was nothinj;, and immediately proceeded to repeat the
whole backward, " beti;inninL,' at the imprint and en(hn<^ at the title."

The advantages of j^ood memory to the historian are obvious, and we find
it said of Gibbon that when he had once read a hook it was of no further use to
him ; it was as a sucked oranj^e and could be thrown away. Carlyle, likewise,
had a prodigiously retentive mind, while of Macaulay's prowess in this line there
are many stories told. He could read i book in the time it would take another
man to cut the leaves, and, notwithstandinj^^ this li<;htninjjj rapidity, he knew it
all perfectly. Once, when crossinc; the Irish channel he n^peated to himself the
whole of " P'iradise Lost," and it was said that if all Milton's works were lost
Macaulay coi.ld have restored them from memory. While waiting; in a Cam-
bridpje coffee house for a post chaise, he picked up a country newspaper, contain-
ing two political pieces, which he read through and never thought of again for
forty years, when he was able to repeat them without the change of a single word.
Something of a sensation was caused in St. Petersburg a short time ago bv
the appearance of an old peasant woman named Irma Andrejessa Fedosova, from
Olonez, seventy years of age, unable to read or write, who could recite by rote
19,000 folk songs and poems. She was brought to the capital by a Russian lit-
erateur, who, with the help of a colleague, wrote down a large quantity of her
treasure with a view to publication. Her collection appears to have ranged over
the whole field of folk literature, comjirising old legends, old fair}- tales, tales of.
arms, and tales of comedy and tragedy.

1 !

CHAPTER V.

iMrKKATIVK I.Ml'Ki:sSIONS.
Iniroductury Notes by the Kditur.

ONE of the remarkable phases of our menial life is the impression which
occasionally is made upon the human mind that a certain act niiis/ be
performed, or a certain line of conduct must be pursued. These impres-
sions come from we know not where, and their depth and permanency vary, but
in certain cases they assume all the strenj^th anc' authority of commands issued
by another person. All classes of men are subject to them, and influenced more
or less by them. Some men are accustomed to follow these impressions to
absurd lengths, even in opposition to reason and conscience. Others pay litth;
heed to them at all. As a rule or j^juide to conduct impressions cannot commend
themselves to our reason, and yet it is doubtful if the man who ignores impres-
ssions altojjjether is much wiser than the man who allows them to direct his conduct.
l'"or ever)- strong impression there is some cause, either in the mind itself or in
those subtle influences which come from other mirds, and which may be in their
v)rip-in both reasonable and beneficent. Under certain conditions the mind is
opened to impressions from other minds, and every Christian mind is influenced
Ijy the Spirit of Ciod.

Who dare say then that all impressions are devoid of reason — even though
the reason be not apparent to us —or that our conduct is ever and always to be
directed by what seems intelligible and clear to us? Abraham went out "not
knowing whither he went," yet his subsequent career and destiny showed there
was a higher will and reason than his own directing his course. Many a devout
soul has at times been led in paths of labor and duty which did not at the time
seem clear and reasonable. Every man subject to such impressions from within
or without should neitl^er follow them blindly or utterly discard them, but by a
study of himself and his environment seek to discover the origin and value of
these impressions as a guide to his conduct.
We orive below a number of illustrations:

THE CASE OF STEPHEN GRELLETT.

We give, by permission, the following account from an interesting and valu-
able little volume entitled " Striking Providences," by David Tatum, of Denver,
Colorado :

" Stephen Grellett, a prominent minister in the Society of Friends (and a
resident of Burlington, New Jersey), was a man of noted piety and deep
religious experience.

iin

IMIMCR.VI'IVK IMl'RKSSIONS.

*IS

On a certain occasion when enj^aj^t^d in (iospi'l sjtrvice in one of the western
States, he felt called of the Loril to take a lonj; journey into the forest and
preach the (iospel to somt* nuMi who were en^ajjed in cuttinjj; timber, and he
went to the place that was shown him by the Ilol)' S|)irit while in prayer and
commiininj^ with (iod. And on arrivini^ there he found to his ^reat surprise and
disa[)pointment, that their shanties were all vacated, and the men had ;,'one
further hack into th«* forest.

lint this man of (iod, who had been obedient to the Divine call, went into
tlu'ir headciuarters, .iiul waited on the Lord to see what (ioil would say unto him
and have him do. And Ik; felt a strong emotion of th<* Holy Spirit to stand up
and preach the everlastinj^ Gospel, in which he felt j^^reat peace and was supremely
happy, thouj^h he saw no one to whom he directed his discourse.

Years passed away, and Stephen Grellett heard nothinj^r of his visit, and it
was a j^aeat mystery to him until he went to England on Gospel service. And
when crossing' f.ondon Hridj^e a stranj^cr accoste.'d him, and took hold of him
under ^reat excitement and surprise on seeinj^ him, sayintj, ' I have found you
at last ! Did you not preach on a certain occasion in one of the shanties of some
wood choppers in the backwoods of America inany years ajjjo ?' To which the
good man responded, saying: ' But I saw no one there to listen.' 'I was
there,' was the reply of the man who had accosted him. ' I was foreman and
gauger of the wood. We had moved further into the forest, but having left my
lever I had gone back after it, and as I approached the place I heard a voice,
and I drew near agitated and trembling, and I saw you through the chinks of
tlie timber walls of our dining sh'\nty, and listened to you preaching the gospel,
and was convinced of sin and brought under deep conviction, and was very
miserable; my men were grossly immoral, and I had no one to talk to on Divine
things, but I read my Bible and prayed, and called on God for mercy. And
through repentance and faith in Christ Jesus I found forgiveness and eternal
life; and I talked and prayed with my men, and they were all converted. Three
ot them entered the ministry and became missionaries, and have been mightily
used by the Holy Spirit in bringing sinners to Christ. And for several years I
have been possessed with a strong desire to see you. and to tell you that your
sermon in our old quarters had been tne means of th<; conversion of at least one
thousand souls.'"

''' «I

! i

AX IMPERATIVH IMPRESSION AND WHAT CAME OF IT HOW CHAPLAIN SEARLS WAS

LED TO THE MINISTRY.

The Rev. Wm, Searls, for many years chaplain of the State Prison at
Auburn, NA''., has written out, at my request, the following incident, related to
me in conversation when a guest at Alma College recently :

In 1856, I was a local preacher in the M. E. Church, residing in Jordan

«34

r.MMI'SKS OF THE UNSKKN.

N.Y. While I felt it a duty, I hardly felt that I could enter the regular work of
the ministry. I was a book-keeper in a larji^e establishment, and had general
charge, with good salary. But I had said if the door opens I will enter. The
pastor of the IVI.E. Church in Elbridge, a mile and a half away, was taken
sick early in the conference year, and went home and died. The leading men
of the church came to me to have me serve out the year, which I concluded to
do, and did. At the end of the year I remarked to the church that sometimes
the new pastor did reach his charge the first Sunday after Conference, so I
would come up, and if the preacher came he would preach, if not, I would.

The preacher, newly appointed, was late in reaching the church, and we had
opened the service and were singing the last hymn before preaching, and while
standing, the preacher came up the aisle. I told him they would expect him to
preach, and that I would make a few remarks, and introduce him, which I did.
He preached, and as we parted he urged me to come up and see him. In about
three weeks he came down to my office, and more than intimated that things
were not going very well. He urged me to come up and see him. In about
three weeks, I had arranged to visit Rev. E. N. Cuykendall, at Skamately, eight
miles away. I had engaged Bro. Nicolls to go with me and the horse was at
my gate. All at once I said to my wife, " I cannot go — I don't know why." She
remarked, "what will Bro. Nicholls think ?" I said, "I don't know, simply I can-
not go. I will run over to Bro. Burnham's,and have him go," which I did. After
they drove off, I sat down like one bewildered till the bell began ringing for ten
o'clock service. Quick as thought I said to my wife, "I am going up to Elbridge.''
She remarked, "you act wild, what has got hold of you ?" I said, "I don't know,
but I must go. I started, but fearmg I would get there so early he would want
me to preach, I went slowly. When I went into the church, a little girl met me,
and I heard them singing, and I said to her, "is meetmg out ?" And she said "no."
Then I asked if he had preached yet, and she said, " there ain't any preacher ;
he quit last Thursday evening and went away yesterday. They are holding a
prayer-meeting, and Bro. Robbins is leading it." I waited till I heard them kneel
down, then I entered, and the door made more noise than any door I ever opened
(I would not have gone in but for being seen by the little girl). I took a seat by
the door, bow'i.g my head, but in a moment Bro. Robbins came to me and said :
"You are the man we have been praying for, and were going down to see to-
inoi'ow." I told them had I known anything about it I would not have been
there. The brethren gathered around me saying : "we want you, and have been
praying that we might get you." I finally told them they could write to their
presiding elder, and if he wanted me, he could write to meat Jordan. The next
Saturday morning I received a letter from Dr. Reid, the presiding elder, appoint-
ing me to the charge, with many kind words on his part. I said to my wife,
" God has opened the door without my lifting the catch, and I must enter." I

n
v
\i
I

a
a

n
n

IMTERAI IVK IMI'KKSSIONS.

^SS

served as supply tliat year, and then joined the old Oneida Annual Conference,
now Cer.tral New York, and was continued in the same charge for another year,
during whicli time I closed up my work and lifted the anchor. How came I to
go to El bridge that Sunday morning ?

\V. Seakls.

KKMARK Alll.l-; CASK OF A Cl.l'.kC VM An IM QUI'.P.KC.

The following is contributed by the Kev. Mr. Garland, of South Stukely,
Que.:

Mr. G. is a clergyman well known to me. He has been a missionary for
many years. He spends a great deal of time travelling and visiting his people.
His mission is large, containing about 144 scjuare miles. There are a great
many French families within his charge. Mr. G. was not intended for a French
missionary, nor has he been educated in hrench, yet few men have worked more
acceptably among the French Romanists than he has done. Under his ministry
many of them have left Romanism and come into the English Church. In visit-
ing the sick Mr. G. gained the confidence of the people to a remarkable degree.
His prayers for the sick often resulted like miracles on their behalf. Night or
day no distance deterred him, he would go when sent for often going a distance
of fourteen miles over bad roads and in the night. There seemed to be an
invisible hand always guiding him — invisible to those around him, but visible to
himself. One Saturday morning about nine o'clock he had an appointment in a
village about six miles off. His horse and sleigh were brought out, and he was
going to step into the sleigh when he was seized by such a strong impulsive
impression that he should go to visit a family about seven miles away, in the
opposite direction to the place to which he intended to go. He waited a few
minutes, considering what he should do. So strong was the sense of duty in-
pressed upon him that he at once started for the woods (lumber woods) where the
family lived. He had gone from his own door about fifty yards when he met a
man coming for him to take him to the same family to whom he had started to
go. The man that met him told him to go on quickly that he was was very much
needed. Mr. G. did so. On entering the home he was told that they had a
very sick man, not e.xpected to live through the sickness. On entering the room
where the sick man lay the sick man reached out both hands to him and said, " O
I am so glad you came. I heard of you, though I never saw you before, and I
was praying that you would come — that Ciod would send you. I am so thankful
that you have come.'' This man was over sixty years of age, never had made
any profession of religion. Never had been baptised. Mr. G. baptised him,
and had a very profitable visit with him. The man gained strength, got up, and
was able to move about again. Many cases of a similar nature might be

136

GLIMPSES OF rHK UNSKKM.

mentioned in the ministry of this clergyman. This case is given only as a
specimen of many other such cases.

A PROVIDKNTIAL RKSCUi: THROUGH AN IMl'KRATIVK IM TRKSSION.

David Tatum, the well-known Quaker evangelist in his little book, " Strik-
ing Providences," gives the following interesting bit of personal history concern-
ing a providential rescue :

" One cold winter day as I sat in the house, approaching the twilight of
evening, I had a very clear presentiment of the Holy Spirit, that some young
man was in great danger from some cause, and the family in distress through
anxious feeling on his account, and that I should go on to Garden street and
rescue the poor victim to drink from the power of the dram shop. I started at
once, but as there were many saloons on the street I had no idea at which of
them all it might be. I walked nearly a half a mile through the cold winter
tind and drifting snow, not knowing where I should call, and passed numerous
saloons, but felt no inclination to stop. But finally my attention was attracted
to one, with a strong impression that I should go in. I found a well-dressed
young man there, of rather fine appearance, under the influence of liquor asleep
on the bench. I awoke him out of his stupor and spoke kindly to him, express-
ing my regret that he should have fallen into the habit of drinking, to bring
ruin upon himself, and, no doubt, distress on his family, to which he replied :
" Oh ! I wish I was dead." 1 turned to the saloonist and pointed him to the
work of his hands and the wickedness of his business in the ruin of young men
like this, for all of which God would biing him to judgment, according to his
warning and woes, that he had pronounced on him that puttest '.hy bottle to him,
and makest him drunken also, at which he seemed much confusad, but said not a
word. I took the young man home and found him to be the son of a highly
respectable family. Soon after we came in a sister returned who had been out
hunting her brother. And as I talked and prayed with the family, and especially
for this poor victim to drink, the sighs and sobs of the parents and sister were
most touching.

His manhood was gone, and he had been robbed of his money and gold
watch while asleep. But his father remarked, with tears, that he did not care for
that, they were nothing to compare with his character and soul, and that the
disgrace and shame that he (their only son) had brought on the family, had filled
their heart with anguish and disappointment.

But this scene is only one of many of those occurrences of domestic trouble
by drink and the work of the dram shop, that we have witnessed in our work for
the Master. I could now see th? hand of Divine Providence in all this lead-
ing me out in that storm of wind and snow, not knowing where He would guide
me, but directing my footsteps right to the place where I should rescue that

)Ut

or
;he
ed

)le

le
lat

IMPERATIVE IMPRESSIONS.

137

prodigal son, and take him to his father's house and mother's embrace. For he
was too intoxicated to have gone by himself, and the probabilities are that had I
not obeyed the impress of the Spirit he would have been turned out in the night
to perish on the street, and add a crushing blow to sorrow and break a mother's
heart.

A WIDOW RECEIVES AID IN THE HOUR OF NEED THROUGH
AN IMPERATIVE IMPRESSION.

From an interesting volume, "Touching Incidents and Remarkable Answers
to Prayer," we extract the following, by kind permission of the author and pub-
lisher, S. B. Shaw, of Grand Rapids, Mich.:

" In the v/inter of 1855, in the State of Iowa, the snow fell early in Novem-
ber to the dej)th of two feet. The s^^orm was such that neither man nor beast
could move against it.

In a log cabin, six miles from her nearest relative, lived a woman with five
children, ranging from one to eleven years. The supply of food and fuel was
but scant whei: the snow began falling ; and day after day the small s'-ore melted
away until the fourth evening, when the last provisions were cooked for supper,
and barely enough fuel remained to last one day more. That night, as was her
custom, the little ones were called around her knee to hear the Scripture lesson
read, before commending them to the Heavenly Father's care. Then, bowing in
prayer, slie pleaded as only those in like condition can plead, that help from God
might be sent. While wTestling with God in prayer the Spirit took the words
of the Psalmist and impressed them on her heart: ' I have been young, and now
am old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.'
And again these words came as if spoken audibly : ' The young lions do lack
and suffer huijger, but they that wait on the Lord shall want no good thing. .
h\iith took God at his word, and with an assurance that help would come, she
prayed God, v/ho heareth pra)er, and retired to rest without a care or fear for the
morrow. When again the morning broke that mother arose, kindled her firci
and put on the kettle as she had done on the other days before the food was all
gone. Just as the sun arose a man in a sleigh drove up to the house, and
liastening in inquired how they were getting along. Her heart at first was too
full for utterfince, but in a short time he was told something of their destitution,
and of her cry to God for help. Me replied, 'Last night, about nine o'clock,
wife and I were both impressed that you were in need. Spending almost a
sleepless night I hastened at early dawn to come and inquir: about the case.'

Then returning to his sleigh he took into the house breadstuff, meat and
groceries, so that mother had abundance to prepare a breakfast for the little
ones, who had eaten the last bread the night before. And as if to make the case
above mentioned a special providence, without a doubt remaining, the individual
who was thus impressed — and that at the very hour that mother was crying to

»38

OMMI'SES OF THE UNSEEN.

God — was a stranger to the circumstances and surroundings of this family.
Indeed, he had never been in that house before, nor had ever showed any
interest in the person referred to, but he ever afterwards proved a friend indeed.

Now, after years have rolled around, and these children are all married and
settled in homes of their own, that mother's heart is still strengthened to bear
hardships and trust in Ciod by the recollection of that hour when faith in God
was so tested, and yet was so triumphant.

Let skeptics ridicule the idea of a special providence, or lightly speak
of prayer. One heart will ever believe God's ear in mercy is open to the cry of
the feeblest of His children when in distress their crv goes up for help to Him."

PREMONITIONS.

Miss D. and her father had lately gone to occup}'' an old Jacobean
house in Scotland, which t'l^^y rented, not knowing all its history or contents,
only that it had been occupied by some Jacobites at the time of the Rebellion.

Miss D. says that one night, soon after settling into the house, she had an.
alarming dream, which gave her such a shock that she woke up with the fear of
some terrible danger about the house, to which she felt all the inmates were
exposed. With growing consciousness the details and cause of danger faded
from her mind, and she calmed herself, as it was but a dream. A night or two
later she woke up with the same horrible dream of an immediate catastrophe
impending to the house. Again she calmed herself and was able to rest till next
morning, when she told her horrible dream.

But a third night she had a similar dream of horror and of immediate
danger in the house, but on waking could not recall what or where was the
source of danger. Acting on the moment's impulse and the third dream she
arose and called her father from his slumbers, imploring him to help her search
the house. They both forthwith went all over the I'ambling old mansion, search-
ing high and low, till they came to an old lumber room of which they were
ignorant, where they perceived a smell of smoke. Here they found some old
wood on the floor was smouldering and close by, under the same ceiling, were
casks stowed away which they quickly found contained gunpowder. They called
up the household and quickly extinguished the smouldering wood ere it burst
into flames, and dragged away the casks with speed. By this prompt search, in
consecjuence of a dream, the whole house was saved from explosion and
conflagration.

So much for facts. Can anyone explain how material events are foreseen
and revealed before they occur ? Are they represented on the > mosphere of
the psychic world, and seen thus by the clairvoyant ?

In a symposium of what he calls " real ghost stories," Mr. Stead, the editor
of the European edition of the Review of Revieics, prints two remarkable dream^

'ere
old
ere

ed
irst

in
ind

IMI'ERA'I'IVE INU'RKSSIONS.

«39

incidents. Mr. Stead (juotes, among others, a story from the accumulations of
the Society of Physical Research which " is full of the tragic fascination which
attaches to the struggle of a brave man, repeatedly warned of his coming death,
struggling in vain to avert the event whicii was to prove fatal, and ultimately
perishing within the sight of those to whom he had revealed the vision." The
story m brief is as follows :

"M. Fleet was third mate on the sailing ship Persian Empire, which left
Adelaide for London in 1868. One of the crew, Cleary by name, dreamed
before starting that on Christmas morning, as the Fersicvi Empire was passinyf
Cape Horn in a heavy gale, he was ordered with the rest of his watci; to secure
a boat hanging in davits over the side. He and another man got into the boat,
when a fearful sea broke over the ship, wasliing them both out of the boat into
the sea, where they were both drowned. The dream made such an impression
upon him that he was most reluctant to join the ship, but he overcame his
scruples and sailed. On Christmas eve, when they were near Cape Horn,
Cleary had a repetition of his dream, exact in all particulars. He uttered
a terrible cry and kept uttering "I know it will come true."

On Christmas day, exactly as he had foreseen, Cleary and the rest of the
watch were ordered to secure a boat hanging in the davits. Cleary flatly
refused. He said he refused because he knew that he would be drowned, that
all the circumstances of his dream had come true up to that moment, and if he
went into that boat he would die. He was taken below to the captain, and his
refusal to discharge duty was entered in the log. Then the chief officer gave
Douglas the pen to sign his name. Cleary suddenly looked at him and
exclaimed, ' I will go to my duty, ior now I know the other man in my dream.'
He told Douglas, as they went on deck, of his dream. They got into the boat,
and when they were making all tight a heavy sea struck the vessel with such
force that the crew would have been washed overboard had they not clung to
the mast. The boat was turned over and Douglas and Cleary were flung into
the water. They swam for a little time, and then went down."

ten

tor

CMAPTl'K VI.

PR/\YP.R AND ITS ANSWIiR.
Introduction l)y I he I'kliioi.

HATRVER view one may hold as to the etiicacy of prayer, or as to the
)H)ssibihty of a direct answer to prayer in a universe governed by hiw,
all who h.ive studied aright human nature and human kind must
admit that prayer is as natural to the human soul as breathing to the body. We
do not mean to assert that prayer is the universal practice of men, or
that the spirit of prayer is at all times dominant in human hearts, but that
under certain conditions it is as natural to stretch out our hands in supplication
to a higher power for help as it is to breathe; tht vital air.

Three views as to the value and efficacy of prayer prevail. The first denies
not only the pos;:ibility of any direct answer to prayer but also the value of
l^rayer as exercise of our moral powers and a means of self-culture. Prayer,
according to this view, is worse than useless, ministering to superstition and
seK-dclusion, and conceit. It weakens and degrades men by teaching them to
depend on a higher power rather than rely upon their own resources.

The second view of prayer denies the possibility of a direct answer to
jirayer, yet admits its value as an exercise of our moral nature and a means of
self-culture. This was the view entertained, I believe, by the late Rev. F. W.
l\obertson, of Brighton, I^igland, the well-known divine.

The tliird view holds to the possibility of direct answer to prayer — not that
iill prayer is heard and answered, but that the prayer of faith, off(;red under right
conditions somehow secures the specific things desired and prayed for. Those
holding this view do not always attempt to explain the i)hil(Jsophy of prayer, or
to solve the difficulty presented by those fixed laws which seem to govern, in all
the realms of matter, mind, a.nd spiiit. Many volumes of attempted explanation
of this difficult)- have been written, but it must be confessed that the mystery
is not \et resoKed. We know, however, that many things in the physical
realm that are entirely impossible or absurd under one set of conditions
are quite possible, and seem to us cpiite reasonable, under another set of
conditions. Mav not this be true in the spiritual as well as in the material
world } If, for example, the grain cannot germinate and reproduce its kind under
conditions of cold, or drought, or hardness of soil, and can, as we know, grow
under righr conditions of soil, temperature and sunshine, may it not be equally
true .uat results which could never have been obtained in the spiritual realm are
cjuite possible, the spiritual conditions being altered ? All true prayer implies
penitence, consecration, and faith, and these do alter the spiritual environment
of the soul.

REV. 13. D. THOMAS, D.D.

' !

or
at
St;
sti
pe
to
re:
re]
hi-

las

I'RAYKR AND ITS ANSWKK.

»43

It has lon<^ been a tiuestion in the mind of the writer how far the prayer of
faith may be the means of its own answer. I'aith is the most potent principle
in the Hfe of the soul. It is the seed out of which comes tlie harvest of life's
activities. It is remedial and curative to mind and body. It strenj^thens,
inspires, and uplifts the entire nature. On the wings of stronj; desire it reaches
out toward God and man, and who shall say it is not a cause at least of chanfjjed
conditions under which powers may operate that were dominant before. How
f;)r such a faith may effect another human soul through the subtle laws which
f:;overn the relation of one mind with another is a pertment ennuiry. The world
will yet be many ages solving the full meaning of Jesus' words.

" Accordiiifj to your faith
lie it done imto you."

We give a number of testimonies relating to answer of prayer, to divine
guidance, and to divine healing.

$ioo si:n'i- i\ answer to rK.\vi:K.

The following is a personal testimony to the elficacy and value of prayer by
David Tatum, the (.juaker evangelist, of Denver, Colorado, and is taken from
his valuable book " Striking Providences."

In addition to the many instances of the supernatural leading of the Holy
Spirit, I have often been helped with means that could not be accounted for
exxept through the providence of God, and sometimes in a very miraculous
manner, according to the promise of our Lord, " I will never leave thee, nor tor-
sake thee."

For instance, in the tenth month of i8g2 we went to reside in Denver, Col-
orado, on account of my wife's failing health, and the necessary expenses
attending our removal and board, etc., brought me into very straightened circum-
stances, and the need of means altogether beyond my resources. And the
stringency of the times, in money matters, that soon followed, added to the
perplexity of my situation. And the time came when one hundred dollars had
to be secured to meet the exigency of the case. And I wrote to a friend of mine
residing in Chicago to know if he could lend me that amount, to which he
replied that while it would be a pleasure to accommodate me, he had no means at
his command by which he could render me any assistance. At whicli I was
greatly disappointed and depressed in. my feelings, as that appeared to be my
last resource, and I turned unto the Lord with full purpose of heart for relief.
For man's extremity is God's opportunity. I was away from home holding
meetings, and while stopping with a family I picked up a book to read, hoping
to find relief to a burdened mind, for the time was drawing near when the money
must be had, and my eyes first alighted on these beautiful lines of promise :

If !

»44

GLIMI'SKS OK rilK UNSKKN.

"Fear not, I :un with tlieo, O be not rlismayed ;
I aril thy God, and will still give thee aid ;
I'll streiif,'thon theo, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand."

And on readiiif; this c;inic relief and comfort to my feelings, with a belief thui
God would iiclp me. And the time came, within three days, when our oblij^ations
had to be met, and a very sympathizin<j[ letter was received from an ac(iuaintani:o
of mine in the east, stating; that he had been thinUinj^ a great deal of late, with
a fear that I mi<;ht be in straightened circumstances, and need of help, beyond in\
means at command, and that he felt he ought to render me some assistance*
and enclosed in his letter a draft on a New York b.ink for one hundred dollars

Now, how am I to account for all this? He was no relation of mine, aiul
we had only met occasionally some years ago, and I am not aware that he had
ever heard me speak, and there were no natural means by which he could have
known my circumstances, and yet God moved upon his heart by a supernalur;il
power to send me one hundred dollars just in time to save me from serious
trouble and perplexity in my affairs.

" If ye, then, being evil, know how to give 'good gifts unto your children,
how much more shall your Father which is in heavtn gi\'e good things to them
that ask Him."

" 'rm:Y who trust in the lord siiai.i, not want."
The toUowing incidents are taken from " rouchiiig Incidents and Remark-
able Answers to Prayer," by kind permission of the author, S. B. Shaw, (^f
Grand Rapids, Mich. :

Mrs. Mary Grant Cramer, whose husband is a member of the Cincinnati
Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, who was for inaiiN' xcars I'.S-
Minister to Denmark, and afterwards to Switzerland, and has also tilled tin;
chair of Systematic Theology in Boston University, has related for us, by letter,
several accounts of answers to prayer, among whicli are the foHowing :

"When Dr. George E. Shipman and wife, of Chicago, came to see us in
Copenhagen, I was much impressed with the striking and interesting incidents
Mrs. S. told us in connection with their faith-work in the r\)undlings' Home-
For instance, when they had put all they had in the Home, and there was
a payment of six hundred dollars to be made, and it could no longer be post-
poned for the man to whom it was due said : ' Business is business, and I must
have my money, and I will send my son for it in the morning' ; they betook
themselves to prayer, hoping the postman would bring them a letter containing
the required amount ; but he did not. Soon after he passed, a man rang the bell
and left an envelope containing a chetjue for six hundred dollars, as a present
from the Mayor of the city, who was not a religious man, but his wife, who was
then in Europe, was interested in the Home, and he sent the money on her

I'K.WKk ANU llh ANSWKk.

Isent
was
her

"45

account. Directly alter it came they handed the checiue for th(; amount to the
man who was expected to call for it. In a simihir way Dr. Shipinan on another
occasion, received four hundred (h)llars a lillle while I. 'ore it was needed, and
olten got smaller sumr in answer to prayer.

'* Mrs. Shipman told nie of Mrs. I'ilhey, an invalid saint she knew in
Chicaj^o, who was sup|)orted by voluntary }<ifts in answer to prayer. i'his made
the closinjjj years of her life a marvehnis proof ol uod's care for His helpless
children who trust Him.

•• I might add another incident. Recently a saintly woinan, who has conse.
crated all she has to the Lord, and who lives by faiih, giving her services gratu-
itously to His cause, felt that after the fatiguing labors of the summer, a change
would be beneficial to her. She kept this to herself. Soon after a lady sent lor
her to call upon her, her object being to inform Miss M. that she felt impressed
that she ought to go away from home for a while, and gave her fifty dollars.
One day a co-worker of this good sister told me that she asked a token of the
Lord in money, atid the same day she found it in an envelope on the table,
directed to her, from one who had never before made her a present, and who at
first intended this sum for someone else.

" I am accjuainted with a minister in New York city who gave up his church
and a salary of five thousand a year to establish a church where he could reach
the masses. He met with much opposition, but has also met with great success
in hip. work. He said that on various occasions he felt it his duty to give all he
had away, and before he could reach his home it would be replaced fourfold.
His wife was greatly opposed to his giving up a certainty for what she thought
an uncertainty, especially as they had hve children. But he told me that since
they depend upon the Lord for their support his wile has less solicitude about
how they will be provided for than she had when his salary was five thousand
dollars a year.

•' Truly ' they who trust in Ihe Lord shall not want.' "

ANNIE AND VANIE's FIRST HEAL PRAYER.

Two sisters, one about five years of age, the other next older, were accus-
tomed to go each Saturday morning some distance from home, to get chips and
shavings from a cooper shop. One morning, with basket well filled, they were
returning home when the elder one was taken suddenly sick with cramps
or cholera. She v/^s in great pain, and unable to proceed, much less to bear the
basket home. She sat down on the basket, and the younger one held her from
falling. The street was a lonely one, occupied by workshops, factories, etc.
Every one was busy within, not a person was seen on the streets. The little girls
were at a loss what to do. Too timid to go into any workshop they sat a while,
as silent and quiet as the distressing pains would allow.

• I

146

GLIMPSES OK TUli UNSIiEN.

Soon the elder fjirl said : '* You know, Annie, that a good while ago mother
told us that if we ever got into trouble, we should pray, and God would help us.
Now you help ine to get down upon my knees, and hold me up, and we will
pray." There, on the sidewalk, did these two little children ask God to send
someone to help them home. The simple and brief prayer being ended, the
sick girl was again helped up, and sat on the basket, waiting the answer to
their jiraycrs.

Presently Annie saw far down the street, on the opposite side, a man come
out from a factory, look around him, up and down the street, and go back into
the factory.

*' Oh, sister, he has gone in again," said Annie. "Well," said Vanie,
" perhaps he is not the one God is going to send. If he is he will come back
again."

" There he comes again," said Annie. " He walks this way. He seems
looking for something. He walks slow, and is without his hat. He puts his
hand to his head, as if he did not know what to do. Oh, sister, he has gone in
again. What shall we do ? "

" That may not be the one whom God will send to help us," said Vanie.
" If he is he will come out again."

*' Oh, yes, there he is ; this time with his hat on," said Annie. ** He comtc
this way, he walks slowly, looking around on every side. He does not see us,
perhaps the trees hide us. Now he sees us, and is coming quickly."

A brawny German, in broken accents, asks :

"Oh, children, what is the matter ? "

•* Oh, sir," said Annie, " sister here is so sick that she cannot walk, and we
cannot get home "

" Where do you live, my dear ?"

*• At the end of this street ; you can see the house from here."

" Never mind," said the man, " I takes you home."

So the strong man gathered the sick child in his arms, and with her head
pillowed upon his shoulder, carried her to the place pointed out by the younger
girl. Annie ran around the house to tell her mother that there was a man at the
front door wishing to see her. The astonished mother, with a mixture of
surprise and joy, took charge of the precious burden, and the child was laid
upon a bed.

After thanking the man she expected him to withdraw, but instead he stood
turning his hat in his hands, as one who wishes to say something, but knows not
how to be^in.

The mother, observing this, repeated her thanks, and finally said: " Would
you like me to pay you for bringing my child home ?"

" Oh, no," said he, with tears, " God pays me ! God pays me ! I would like

PKAYKR AND ITS ANSWKR

•47

.ger

luld
like

to tell you something, but I speak English so poorly that I fear you will not
understand."

The mother assured him that she was used to the German, and could
understaml him very well.

*• I am the proprietor of an ink factory," said he. "My men work by the
piece. I have to keep separate accounts with each. I pay them every Saturday.
At twelve o'clocW tlvjy will be at my desk for their rroney. This week I have
had many hindrances, and was behind with my books. I was working hard at
them with the sweat on my face, in my great anxiety to be ready in time.
Suddenly I could not see the figures, the words in the book all ran together, and
I had a plain impression on my mind that some one in the street wished to see
me. I went out, looked up and down the street, but seeing no one, went back
to my desk and wrote a little. Presently the darkness was greater than before,
and the impression stronger than before that someone in the street needed me.

Again I went out, looked up and down the street, walked a little way,
puzzled to know what it meant. Was my hard work, and were the cares of
business driving me out of my wits ? Unable to solve the mystery I turned
again into my shop and to my desk.

This time my fingers refused to grasp the pen. I found myself unable to
write a word, or make a figure, but the impression was stronger than ever on
my mind that some one needed my help. A voice seemed to say: ' Why don't
you go out as I tell you ? There is need of your help.' This time I took my
hat on going out, resolved to stay till I found out whether I was losing my senses
or there was a duty for me to do. I walked some distance without seeing any
one, and was more and more puzzled, till I came opposite the children, and
found that there was indeed need of my help. I cannot understand it, madam."

As the noble German was about leaving the house the younger girl had the
courage to say: *' Oh, mother, we prayed."

Thus the mystery was solved, and with tear-stained cheeks, a heaving
breast, and a humble, grateful heart, the kind man went back to his accounts.

" I have enjoyed many a happy hour in conversation with Annie in her own
house, since she has a home of her own. The last I knew of Annie and Vanie
they were living in the same city, earnest Christian women. Their children were

,vill have like confidence in mother, and

growmg up a
faith in God.

hop

Jeigh Arrh.

Annie was the wife of James A. Clayton, of San Jose, California. I have

enjoyed their hospitality, and esteem both very highly.

James Rogers,

Of Alabama Conference, M.E. Church.

148

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

AN EFFECTUAL PRAYER.

'• No," said the lawyer, ** I shan't press your claim against that man. You
can get someone else to take your case, or you can withdraw it, just as you
please."

'* Think there isn't any money in it ? "

" There would probably be some money in it, but it would, as you know,
come from the sale of the little house the man occupies and calls home ; but I
don't want to meddle with the matter, anyhow."

*' Got frightened out of it, eh ? "

" No, I wasn't frightened out of it."

" I suppose likely the old fellow begged hard to be let off? "

" Well, yes he did."

" And you caved, likely ? "

*' No. I didn't speak <i word to him."

" Oh, he did all the tr.Hcing, did he ? "

" Yes."

" And you never said a word ? "

" Not a word."

" What in creation did you do ? "

" I believe I shed a few tears."

" And the old fellow begged you hard, you say? "

'* No, I didn't say so. He didn't speak a word to me."

" Well, may I respectfully enquire whom he did address in your hearing ?"

" God Almighty."

" Ah, he took to praying, did he ? "

" Not for my benefit, in the least. You see," and the lawyer crossed, his
right foot over his left knee, and began stroking his iower leg up and down, as if
to state his case concisely, " you see, I found the little house easily enough, and
knocked at the outer door, which stood ajar; but nobody heard me, so I slipped
into the hall, and saw, through the crack of another door, just as cosy a sitting-
room as there ever was. There, on a bed, with a silver head way up high on the
pillows, was an old lady who looked for all the world just as my mother did the
last time I ever saw her on earth. Well, I was right on the point of knocking,
when she said as clearly as could be : ' Come, father, begin ; I'm ready.' And
down on his knees by her side went an old, white-haired man, still older than
his wife, I should judge, and I could not have knocked then for the life of me.
Well, he began. First he reminded God they were still his submissive children,
mother and he, and no matter what he saw fit to bring upon them they shouldn't
rebel at His will. Of course, t'was going to be terrible hard for them to go out
homeless in their old age, especially with poor mother so sick and helpless, but

PRAYER AND MS ANSWKR.

149

still they had seen sadder things than ever that would be. He reminded God,
in the next place, how different all might have been if only one of their boys
might have been sp^ired them. Then his voice kind of broke, and a thin, white
hand stole from under the coverlet, and moved softly over his snowy hair ; then
he went on to repeat that nothmg could be so sharp as the parting with those
three sons — unless mother and he should be separated. But at last he fell to
comforting himself with the fact that the dear Lord knew it was through no
fault of his own that mother and he were threatened with the loss of their dear
little home, which meant beggary and the alms house, a place they prayed to be
delivered from entering if it could be consistent with God's will. And then he
fell to quoting a multitude of promises concerning the safety of those who put
their trust in the Lord ; yes, I should say he begged hard ; in fact it was the most
thrilHng plea to wnich I ever listened. And at last he prayed for God's blessing
on those who were about to demand justice " — the lawyer stroked his lower limb
in silence for a moment or two, then continued more slowly than before: " And,
I believe, I'd rather go to the poor-house myself, to-night, than to stain my
heart and hands with fhe blood of such a prosecution as that."

•' Little afraid to defeat the old man's prayer, eh ? " queried the client.

** Bless your soul, man, you could not defeat it ! " roared the lawyer. '* It
doesn't admit of defeat ! I tell you, he left it all subject to the will of God ; but
he left no doubt as to his wishes in the matter ; claimed that we were told to
make known our desires unto God ; but of all the pleading I ever heard that beat
all. You see, I was taught that kind of thing myself in my childhood ; and why
I was sent to hear that prayer I'm sure I don't know, but I hand the case over."

" I wish," said the client, twisting uneasily, " you had'nt told me about the
old fellow's prayer,"

••Why so?"

•• Well, I greatly want the money the place would bring, but was taught the
Bible all straight when I was a youngster ; and I'd hate to run counter to such
a harangue as that you tell about, i wish you hadn't heard a word of it ; and
another time I wouldn't listen to petitions not intended for your ears."

The lawyer smiled.

•* My dear fellow" he said, •' you're wrong again ; it was intended for my
ears, and yours too, and God Almighty intended it. My old mother used to
sing about God's moving in a mysterious way, I remember."

•• Well, my mother used to sing it, too," said the claimant, as he twisted
his claim-papers in his fingers. •' You can call in, in the morning, if you like, and
tell mother and him the claim has been met."

" In a mysterious way," added the lawyer, smiling.

'SO

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

BISHOP SIMPSON S RECOVERY.

Bishop Bowman, of the M. E. Church, gives the following instance from
his own experience :

" In the fall of 1858, whilst visiting Indiana, I was at an annual conference
where Bishop Janes presided. We received a telegram that Bishop Simpson
was dying. Said Bishop Janes : ' Let us spend a few moments in earnest prayer
for the recovery of Bishop Simpson.' We kneeled to pray. William Taylor,
the great California street-preacher, was called to pray; and such a prayer I
never heard since. The impression seized upon me irresistibly, Bishop Simpson
ivillnotdie. I rose from my knees perfectly quiet. Said I : 'Bishop Simpson
will not die.' ' Why do you think so ? ' ' Because I have had an irresistible im-
pression made upon my mind during this prayer.' Another said : ' I have the
same impression.' We passed it along from bench to bench, until we found that
a very large proportion of the conference had the same impression. I made a
minute of the time of day, and when I next saw Simpson, he was attending to
his daily labor. I inquired of the bishop, ' How did you recover from your
sickness ? ' He replied : ' I cannot tell.' * What did your physician say ? ' ' He
said it was a miracle.' I then said to the Bishop : ' Give me the time and
circumstances under which the change occurred.' He fixed upon the day, and
the very hour, making allowance for the distance — a thousand miles away — that
the preachers were engag'^^.d in prayer at this conference. The physician left his
room and said to his wife : It is useless to do anything further; the bishop must
die.' In about an hour he returned, and St rted back, inquiring: 'What have
you done.'*' * Nothing,' was the reply. * He is recovering rapidly,' said the
physician ; *a change has occurred in the disease within the last hour beyond
anvthing I have ever seen ; the crisis is passed, and the bishop will recover.'
And he did."

The doctor was puzzled ; it was beyond all the course and probabilities ot
nature, and the laws of science. What was it that made these ministers so
sure — what was it that made the patient recover, at the exact hour that they
prayed? There is only one answer: "The ever-living power of a Superior
Spirit which rules the world."

THE WONDERFUL CURE OF MRS. SHERMAN.

Although there are so many cases of healing in answer to prayer, yet the
incident of the healing of Mrs. Sherman is so minute, and resulted in such a
radical change of the physical constitution, that it is necessary to relate it in full
detail. It is too well proven to admit of the possibility of a doubt.

♦* Mrs. Ellen Sherman is the wife of Rev. Moses Sherman, and, at the time
of this occurrence, in 1873, they were residents of Pierm.or<t, N. H. She had

PRAYER AND ITS ANSWER.

«5i

been an invalid for many years. In the winter after she was fifteen, she fell on
the ice and hurt her left knee, so that it became weak and easy to slip out of
joint. Six years after, she fell again on the same knee, sr> twisting and injuring
the ligaments that it became partially stiff, and, the physician said, incurable.

•• The next summer, by very fast walking, one day, she brought on special
weakness, which no physician was able to cure. From that moment she was
subject to severe neuralgia, sick-headaches, at least monthly, and sometimes
even weekly.

*' In December, 1859, while stepping out of doors, she slipped, by reason of
her stiff joint, and fell, striking near the base of the spine, directly across the
sharp edge of the stone step. This caused such a sickness that she was obliged
to leave the school she was attending.

"Three years after, in January,i862,she fell at the top of a stairway, striking
just as before, and sliding all the way down to the foot. This nearly paralyzed
the spinal cord, and caused deep and permanent spinal disease. After this she
was up and down for many years, attended by various physicians, yet nothing
bettered but, rather, growing worse. It may be said, for short, that every organ
of the lower body became chronically diseased, and that the headaches increased
in violence.

" In September, 1872, through a severe cold, she took her bed, wliere she
lay, except when lifted from it, till the night of August 27th, 1873. She was
unable to walk a step, or even stand. She could sit up only a short time without
great distress. The best medical skill that could be procured gave only tempor-
ary relief. The spine grew worse in spite of every appliance, and the nervous
sensitiveness and prostration were increasing. During the two or three weeks
immediately preceding her cure, she was especially helpless, two persons being
required to lift her off ?nd on the bed. On the Monday before, one of her
severest neuralgic sick-headaches came on. During Wednesday she began to
be relieved, but was still so sick, that when, in the evening, she tried to have her
■clothes changed, she could only endure the change of her night-dress.

"It will be seen from this, her utter physical helplessness, without the. slightest
hope of any amelioiation. During the night of August 27th, she enjoyed a
blessed time of communion with her Lord, giving herself, in all her helplessness,
■wholly to Him to do as He wills.

"With feelings beyond all expression, she felt the nearness of her mighty
Saviour, and the sense of receiving a new and most delicious pulsation of new
life. At last, though she had been bed-ridden for twelve months, and incapable
of any bodily assistance, she felt an uncontrollable impulse to throw off the
clothes of the bed with her left arm, and sprang out of bed upon her feet, and
started to walk across the room.

•• Her husband's first thought was that she was crazed, and would fall to

'52

GLIMPSES OK THE UNSEEN.

the floor, and he sprang towards her to help her. But she put up her hands
against him, saying, with great energy : ' Don't you touch me ! don't you touch
me ! ' and went walking back and forth across the room, speaking rapidly, and
declaring the work which Jesus had been working upon her.

" Her husband quickly saw that she was in her right mind, and had been
healed by the Lord, and his soul was filled with unutterable emotion.

" One of the women of the household was called, also their son, twelve years
old ; and, togetiicr, they thanked God for the great and blessed wonder He had
wrought.

" m the morning, after a sleep of several hours, she further examiiied herself
to see if entirely healed, and found both knees perfectly well; and though for
sixteen years she had not been able to use either, now she lifted the left foot and
put it upon the right knee, thus proving the completeness of her restoration.

" At the end of two years from her healing, inquiry having been made as to-
how thorough had been the work, Mrs. Sherman gave full and abundant evidence.
'I cannot remember a summer when I have been so healthy and strong, and able
to work hard. I am a constant wonder to myself, and to others, and have been
for two years past. The cure exceeded my highest expectations at the time I
was cured. I did not look forward to such a state of vigor and strength. Nd
words can express my joy and gratitude for all this.'

" The parents of Mrs. Sherman also testif)'' of the wonderful change physi-
cally which occurred with the cure.

" Before, her appetite was always disordered, but on the very morning of the
healing ii; was wholly changed, and her food, which distressed her formerly, she
ate with a relish and without any pain following; and she so continues. For
years before a natural action of the bowels was rare. From that day since, an
unnatural one is equally rare.

" For fifteen years, with few exceptions, she had had severe neuralgic sick
headaches monthly or oftener. From that time she had been natural and with-
out pain, with no return of the headaches, except a comparatively slight one once,
from overdoing, and a cold taken through carlessness.

" There was also at that time an immediate and radical change in theaction'
of the kidneys, which had become a source of great trouble before. Moreover^
the knee, which had been partially stiff for so many years, was made entirely
well. In fine, her body, which had been so full of pain, became at once free
from pain and full of health.

" The week after she was healed, she went fifty miles to attend a camp-
meeting, riding five miles in a carriage, the rest by cars. A near neighbor said t
* she will come back worse than ever.' Though the "/eather was especially bad^
she came back better than when she went."

These are but few out of many expressions respecting her extraordinary

TRAYER AND US ANSWER.

•55

recovery, which fully satisfy the believing Christian that the Great Physician is
with us now, " heaUng the lame," and curing the sick. It is faith only, unyield-
ing, which the Lord requires, ere He gives His richest blessing.

The unbelieving one simply sees in it " something strange," which he cannot
understand ; but the faith-keeping Christian knows it is the sign of his Precious
Lord, in Whom he trusts and abides forever.

!^ i'

MIRACLES OF IMPALING.

From " Remarkable Answers to Prayer," by Patton, the following extract
is made :

The author has received a letter from James H. Blackman, of Sharon,
Mass. (P.O. address at Canton, Mass.), which is of extraordinary interest.
Some of the facts have been given before, but never so fully as now. Slightly
abridged, it is as follows, under date of Oct. 23, 1S75 :

" In the spring of 1870, my wife was taken sick with kidney complaint She
continued to grow worse during the summer. I took a bottle of urme to Dr.
Eramus Miller, a celebrated physician of Boston, to be tested. He sent me a
note saying ; ' Her disease is Bright's disease of the kidneys, in a far advanced
stage, and incurable.' The water was afterward tested by several physicians,
who coincided with Dr. Miller. An increase of albumen was apparent at every
test, and the last (a two oz. bottle), tested by Dr. A. A. Holmes, of Canton, con-
tained nothing but albumen. The water gradually decreased in quantity, and
finally stopped altogether, and for two years nothing passed. It is well known
chat physicians do not profess to cure this disease. During my wife's illness her
left liml became completely paralyzed, and withered away to the size of a man's
wrist in the largest place, without any feeling even to pins and boiling water.
She tipped a milk pan of boiling water upon her feet, but did not know that this
limb was scalded till she began to dress the well foot. For three years and two
months she did not walk ; for two years she crept upon her knees, drawing the
lame leg after her ; and for the last year she moved herself around in a wheeled
invalid chair. During these three years she was taken out of her bed in the
morning and put into it again at night. For the two years and four months, no
physician had been in the house, and she had taken no medicine, resorted to no
bathing or rubber. She ate but once a day, and immediately vomited.

*' During her sickness, God gave me a new heart, and I prayed for her con-
version, which occurred in January, 1874; and then for that of our daughter,
which took place in February. Previously I was a Unitarian, unacquainted with
evangelical doctrines. Not knowing that the Christian world had decided that
the day of miracles had passed, in my ignorance and simplicity, I went to pray-
ing with faith in Christ's promise, that my wife might be healed — my wife and
daughter joining after their conversion. God gave me the assurance that our

»54

gi.imfsp:s of the unseen.

prayers were accepted, and I became bold to say to others that she would soon
walk. I made this declaration to James Jennison, Congregational minister at
Canton, and he replied : ' Why, you can't expect God to do a miracle 1 ' My
assurance grew stronger and stronger, and filled me with joy and gratitude. Just
then the water came back in large quantity, and on being tested by Dr. Holmes,
proved free of albumen. On the morning of February 25th, 1873, I prayed
earnestly in secret, and then placed my wife on her knees at the family altar, and
again prayed earnestly that she might walk. At the close of the prayer she was
unconscious, and apparently dead. She remained thus about three minutes, when
she exclaimed: 'I can walk! — I know I can walk ! Praise God, I can walk l* She
got up off her knees, and walked twice around the .oom, exclaiming : ' Praise
God, I can walk ! Why don't you praise God that I can walk ? ' Then we
commenced shouting : ' Glory to God ! ' Oh, the rapture of that moment ! We
bowed before God and thanked Him .or the great miracle He had performed.

" I opened the door, and she w'tlked out upon the piazza ; and about an hour
afterward she walked out and shook hands with a neighbor, who was so surprised
that he lost all power of speech. The paralyzed limb became immediately en-
larged, and in a few days was plump and round, and stronger than the other.
The appetite came back, the vomiting ceased, and Bright's disease, with all its
attendant pains, passed away. She is in better health than ever before, and, like
the impotent man at the Beautiful Gate, goes about leaping and praising God,
often walking eight and ten miles a day without limping or fatigue.

" We got our faith by prayer and reading the promises. How could we,
after having been born again, refuse to accept those promises as true ? Our
hearts had been given to Him, and we prayed for her recovery, that each might
be enabled to go out into the world and make known the wonderful things God
had done for us in giving us clean hearts ; and, by the grace of God, so we will
ever do."

HEALED THROUGH FAITH.
" I am the Lord that healeth thee."

With a deep sense of gratitude to my Heavenly Father for my restoration
to health, I write this testimony. I will begin with extracts from a statement of
my condition at the time of my restoration, written by the attending physician,
thinking it will be more satisfactory than one of my own.

" Mrs. Claghorn came to me for treatment, first on June 6th, 1885, then
afterwards during August, 1885, and almost continuously thereafter until January
26th, 1886 — the day of her sudden and marvelous restoration to health. Her
symptoms were frequent chills, pains in the bones, pains in the back, inability to
sleep, and at times terrible paroxysms of tonic and clonic spasms, strongly marked
opisthotones, cramping of limbs, coldness of extremities, intense pain at the base
of the brain, intolerance of light, sometimes complete unconsciousness; the

PRAYER AND ITS ANSWER.

^SS

paroxysms being frequently followed by partial paralysis of the right side. She
also suffered from a large cellulitis tumor. At times the case responded readily
to the treatment given ; at other times, she grew rapidly worse for several days,
the attack culminating in a paroxysm, followed by more or less paralysis. Such
an attack occurred from the 21st to the 25th of January, 1886, although not so
severe as some she had had. The morning of the 26th, she was unable to turn
herself in bed, and had not stood upon her feet for five months. The details of
her sudden restoration, which occurred that afternoon, she can best give in her
own language. She rode about a mile the next evening in a cutter, to prayer-
meeting, walked down the aisle like a girl of eighteen, and from a condition ot
emaciation rapidly gained in flesh and appearance. I made an examination
March 5, 1886, and found the cellulitis tumor gone. More than a year has now
passed away, and she is and has been apparently in the most perfect health.
There has been no recurrence of her suffering during the past year.

Respectfully,
A. M. Hutchinson, M.D., Waseca, Minn.

For two weeks before my restoration, I was unable to turn myself in bed, or
to feed myself. All that time my right side was helpless, and I was rapidly
sinking.

On the 25th of January, I was taken with convulsions, though not so severe
as on some previous occasions. My physician was with me until midnight, when
I grew easier. On the morning of the 26th, I felt better until about seven
o'clock, when I commenced to feel much worse. I suffered intensely, and could
feel the terrible convulsions coming back. While I was in such pain, my husband
received some statements of '* faith-cure," which an unknown friend had sent,
and he commenced reading one, saying it might make the time pass more rapidly
if I could bear the reading. I was not at all interested at first, for I knew noth-
ing of such things ; I had heard of a few cases, but they were all so far away, I
set them aside as somethinsf I could not understand. But this was an account
of a lady whose disease was just enough like mine to hold my attention, and he
read it to the close.

I was too ill to think much, but I could see it was no made-up story, and
wondered if God would really do such things.

At 12.40 p.m., my husband went out, leaving me in the care of an atten-
dant, who was in an adjoining room. I began to wonder if it were possible the
Lord could have healing for me. I had not, in all my sickness, asked Him for
health. But now I seemed to be led to make the request: "Lord, if Thou
hast this healing for me, give it to me now ; " and instantly a voice said : *' In
the name of Jesus of Nazareth, arise and walk 1 " and I was.thrilled through and
through with sensations impossible to describe. While I was wondering, the

II .

156

C.MMI'SKS OF THE UNSKEN.

command was repeated in the same words. But I did not feel returning strength,
and the terrible pain still remained.

So I said aloud : " But I haven't the strength, Lord ; give me the strength
and I will get up ; " and again the same voice said : '* In the name of Jesus of
Nazareth, arise and walk 1 " Then I made an effort to arise. It was more a
mental effort than anything else ; but I rose like a feather and stood upon my
feet. All pain ceased — the first moment for months. It was just one o'clock.
I commenced to say : " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief," and prayed
it continually. Then I sat down on the side of the bed, and raising my arms
above my head, used the paralyzed side freely.

A swelling the size of an egg was gone, and everything inside of me seemed
to be changing position, and re-creating sensations i.o possible to describe were
felt all through me.

Then I got up and walked a few steps, and turned and looked at the bed,
and the medicine beside it, and I commenced to sink to the floor. But I asked
for more strength, and received it, and went on around the bed to the centre of
the room, when I thought I would i.ave my clothes brought, and dress. But
when I would have called the nurse, the impression was received (not in an aud-
ible voice). *' It is enough ; you have seen the power of God, go back to bed ; "
and I obeyed.

Upon returning to bed, I re-consecrated myself to God, and begged Him to
complete His will in me ; and if He could better use me as a sufferer, to let me
suffer, but only glorify Himself in me ; and I received the assurance that He
would.

Soon after the nurse brought me some food. I surprised her very much by
feeding myself, and my stomach, which had previously rejected all food, retained
it now with ease.

Now my husband came in, looking so disconsolate, and prepared to find me
much worse than when he left me. I need not attempt to tell of his joy and
surprise upon hearing what God had done for me in his absence ; you can better
imagine it. When he had returned thanks, I requested him to go for my
physician.

Doctor was not in town, and I did not see him until evening. His first
words upon entering my room were : ** Glory to God ! " and he returned thanks
to God for His marvelous work, as only a thoroughly consecrated Christian
could ; not reserving a particle of credit for the cure, but giving all glory and
honor to God. He forbade all medicine.

That night I arose and knelt at the bedside in prayer. I slept that nighty
as I have every night since, like a babe. I never had such refreshing sleep. I
had had no natural sleep during my sickness.

The next morning I arose and dressed unassisted and walked out to break-

REV. A. KENNEDY

■

PRAVi;i< AND US ANSWKK.

>50

fast ; ate iiearlily, and in thc^ evcninj^ I rode nearly a mile to our weclcly prayer-
nieetinf^, and told Imw ^'reat tliinj^s the Lord had done for me.

My strength returned gradual ly. For days I could not stand npon my feet
vvithout first asking for strength ; and If I were standing, and would for an
instant take my mind off Christ, I would commence to sink to the floor. All
functions were naturally resumed without anj' pain whatever. Tumors and ?,ll
intiammation were all dispelled, and I was a well woman. Several times I had
severe paroxysms of pain, but I would go right to God, and he would remove
them at once.

My right side was much shrunken, and shorter than the other. When I
stood upon my left foot, the toes of my riglit foot touched the floor. That, how-
ever, stretched out gradually as 1 used my limbs. It is now more than a year
since I was restored. I have done all my work since the first of June. I ask
for strength for a day at a time, and God helps me over all the hard places.

I have not had a sick day since my restoration. I have had severe colds
Beveral times, but they have been removed by resorung to my new-found Phy-
sician ; and I have not taken a drop of medicin-:: since the 26th of January, 18S6,
neither have I done anything for myself in a medicinal way. God has done
it all.

Satan has tried many times to tempt me, but the Sword of the Spirit, when
presented, proves too much for him.

I have written this story for the glory of God, and trust He will bless it.

THE RESTORATION OF REV. A. KENNEDY IN ANSWER TO PRAYER.

In these days of searching inquiry, we are disposed to settle all questions
that we cannot readily solve by referring them to the realm of science or natural
phenomena for a solution.

As each of us has experiences peculiar to ourselves, I have thought it
might not be amiss to give a brief outline of one which I passed through a few
years ago. I was picking apples, when by the breaking of a limb, I got a fall
which broke up some of the nerves on the left side of the spinal column near the
small of my back. My sufferings were intense for a time, and then gradually
wore away, so that I was able to continue in ministerial work for some months ;
when I was seized suddenly about 4 o'clock one morning with a sinking spell, and
became utterly unable to help myself in any way. Heart-action and respiration
ceased, and to all appearance I was dead. After about ten minutes, very slight
heart-action became dicernible; and in this condition I remained two hours
and a half (the attacks afterward continuing about the same length of time).
During these attacks I was perfectly conscious, knowing everything that was
said and done, but absolutely unable to move or speak. These attacks continued
to come upon me at intervals more or less frequently, according to circumstances.

l6o

(W.IMI'SKS OK IMK UNSKKN.

My l)rain became so affected, that for a tiiiu: I was unable to even listen to a
sermon or iIk; naration of a touchin;^ incident without serious injury. I suffered
from j^reat weakness in my back, and beinj; examined with elixtricity discovered
that a part of my spine was partiall\ paraly/ed. I applietl to a number of
physicians, but none of them had ever seen a simihir case, and were at a loss to
account for it, and did not know what to do for me. There was one doctor who
thoujjjht 1 had epilepsy, and said he could cure me ; so 1 put my case in his
hands antl took his medicine until he threw up the case of his own accord, and
ailvised me to try some one else. At the time of my superannuation, I was
advised by a doctor in liamilton, who had taken a deep interest in my case, to
take no more medicine. For, said he, medicine can never cure you. 1 le thought
my chances for recovery were very small, but advised me to free myself of all
responsibility and care, if possii)le. Hut with a famil)' of five children to be
provided for and educated, and only having a \ery limited income, I found it
difficult to follow the doctor's advice. Although the Lord wonderfully sustained
and comforted me, yet I could not help feeling an anxious desire to do something
to provide a livelihood for my family. 1 tried various things, but everything I
undertook proved an utter failure. So at last, after nearly three years of effort,
I resolved to give it up and cast myself entirely upon the Lord, believing that
He could open up my way or heal me, if it was His will. Thank (iod, my confi-
<ience was not misplaced, for He wonderfully comforted and sustained me. I
found absolute rest, and could have eaten up our last dollar cheerfully, and taken
the Lord for our provider ; but this He did not require, but took the will for the
deed. (Glory to his name !) Some time after this, one morning before arising
from my bed, while lying perfectly awake, the Holy Spirit said to me: Jesus
Christ maketh thee whole. This came as a complete surprise to me, for I was
not even thinking of my own condition at the time; and besides I was then having
attacks every other day regularly, and to all human appearance was as far from
recovery as I had been at any time during the three years of my affliction. But
God's ways are not like man's. And now I was confronted by a new problem.
Would I believe God, in the face of all human impossibilities ? Yes ! I must if I
would be healed. Was I prepared to exercise faith for healing at once? I am
sorry to say I was not, but spent the week in carefully searching the scriptures
and fervent prayer. On .*>aturday, December 31st, 1892, four days after I was
apprised of the Lord's purpose concerning me, I went into my room and, falling
upon my knees, I said: Lord I am convinced thy purpose is to heal me; I accept
it and shall consider myself healed from this very hour. I was not conscious
of any bodily sensation nor magic touch, but simply rested by faith upon the
finished work of God. The following June I was restored to active work in the
conference, and have been doing the work of a Methodist minister ever since.

I'RAVKk AND MS ANSWKk

i6i

It is now four years since; I took tlu; Lord as my physician, ami I n»'vrr hatl

an attack from that day to this. I write this lor the j;lory of I Jim whom I

love and trust. A. Kknm;i)V,

February 1897 Princeton, Ont.

I'RAYKR AND A MAHKIAC.E FKI':.

The Kev. Dr. Thomas, the widely-known and popuKar pastor of Jarvis St.
Baptist Church, Toronto, rehited to me the following sin<;uhir incident concern-
ing a marriaj^e fee, which illustrates the efficacy of prayer. I give it, as near as
possible, in the words of this elocjuent divine :

When I was pastor of Haptist Church, Philadelphia, I was called

upon to perform the marriage cerc^mony on a certain Tliursday afternoon, \n'-
tween two young people, representing two of the most prominent families in the
congregation. They were wealthy and refined people, and their standing in the
community was such that the affair was regarded .' ,one of great social import-
ance, and attracted a good deal of attention. So deeply, indeed, did the
importance of the occasion impress me, that I found myself unable to do any
work on the forenoon of that day, and kc^pt constantly thinking of the great event
in which I was to officiate. We were to go by train a distance of fifteen miles
to the bride's home, from a station about a mile and a half from my residence,
and the place, station and route, were perfectly well known to me. About
seventy-five guests were to go by train from the same station, so there was no
reason why there should be any uncertainty in my mind as 10 the station or
route.

But just before the hour of taking the train came, a cloud seemed to rest
upon my mind. I began to confuse the station I was to go to with a station
near at hand, only half a mile distant. In this haze of perplexity I continued,
until I finally settled upon the nearer station as the one I should go to. When
the cloud lifted, and I saw with my usual clearness the station at which I should
take the train, it was too late to reach it, and in deep disappointment I resigned
myself to a most miserable evening at home.

The guests assembled and the wedding feast was spread, but I was not there,
and deep was the indignation of the families and their numerous friends. It was,
however, decided to send for the nearest minister, about nine miles away, and
accordingly, he arrived about midnight and performed the ceremony. At the
conclusion of the ceremony, the minister who had officiated, arose and said : " i
feel impressed to make a statement. All day I have continued in prayer to God,
asking for a certain specific sum of money which I greatly needed. This unex-
pected call seems like an answer to my prayer, especially since the wedding fee
is the precise sum I prayed for." At once the indignation of the families and
their guests was removed, and the entire company accepted the detention of Dr.
Thomas as a providential one in order that a brother's need might be supplied.

i i

iiii

ti-l^i

CHAPTER VII.

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.
Introductory Essay by the Editor.

DKFOR in the following definition gives the ordinary acceptation of the
word apparitions: they are the invisible inhabitants of the unknown
world, affecting human shapes or other shapes, and showing themselves
visibly to us. This does not take into account those "spectral illusions invol-
untarily generated, by means of which figures or forms not present to the actual
sense are, nevertheless, depicted with a vividness and intensity sufficient to create
a temporary belief of their reality." There can be no doubt that these illusions
are the foundation of man^ of the stories of apparitions and visions. In the
opinion ot multitudes of intelligent people, spectral illusions and hallucinations
cannot account for all the phenomena, which, upon a vast array of evidence,
must be admitted. Scott declared a half century ago that " the increasing
civilization of all well-constituted countries has blotted out the belief in appar-
itions." Such a statement can hardly be maintained to-day in the presence of
the fact that Spiritualism numbers its followers now by millions, and embraces
men of all ranks and grades in life, many of them eminent for learning and
scientific attainment. Tliis revival of faith in apparitions is accounted for by
Andrew Lang, Fellow of Merton College, Oxford, in his article on apparitions in
the "Encyclopa2dia Britannica," and to which the writer of this article is
indebted for many facts and statements in this ciiapter, as follows:

ist. — There has been a re-action against thesomewiiat commonplace skepti-
cism of the last century.

2nd. — The lofty morality and pure life of Swedenborg, won a hearing for his
extraordinary visions, and minds inlluenced by him were ready to welcome further
additions to the marvel JUS. He declared that " the spirit of man is a form,"
and added that " it had been given to him to converse with almost all the dead
he had known in the life of the body."

3rd. — Last of all came Spiritualism, inspired by an impatient revolt against
the supposed tendencies and conclusions of modern science.

In addition to the apparitions which multitudes believe in as real appear-
ances, there is a class of apparitions more universally credited, namely the
subjective visions coinciding with real facts and events occurring at a distance,
and of which many illustrations both in dream and waking moments will be given
in these pages, seen by persons possessing the gift of second-sight. This
second-sight has been described by a believer as " a singular faculty of seeing an
otherwise invisible object, without any previous means used by the person that

by
in
is

his

ler

m,"

ead

inst

ice,

^en

"his

hat

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

165

beholds it for that end." The name of second-sight is the Scotch one under
which the reputed phenomena excited the curiosity of Dr. Johnson and " made
him wish to have some instances of that faculty well authenticated."

In Scott's opinion, " if force of evidence could authorize us to believe facts
inconsistent with the "general laws of nature, enough might be produced in favor
of the existence of the second-sight." To quote from Mr. Lang's article: "A
well-known anecdote tells how St. Ambrose fell into a comatose state while
celebratmg the mass at Milan, and on his recovery declared he had been present
at St. Martin's funeral at Tours, where, indeed, reports from Tours afterwards
declared he had been seen. A similar experience of Swedenborg's (who described
at Gottenburg, a fire which was actually raging at Stockholm) is related by
Kant. A wide distribution of the belief is shown by the fact that Mr. Mason
Brown's exploring party on the Coppermine River was met by Indians, sent by
their medicine-man, who predicted the coming of the party, just as a seer in the
Hebrides described even the livery of Dr. Johnson's servant before his arrival."

The spectres most familiar to us — those of ghost stories and fireside tales —
rest their claims to existence on the evidence of the eyes and ears of people we
meet. No one can well deny the perfect sincerity of many of the witnesses, or in
fact that they have had subjective experiences such as they would have experi-
enced if the dead friend or spirit had been objectively present. But do these
subjective experiences necessarily imply objective reality ? No one acquainted
with the teachings of psychology will so maintain. The illusory appearances of
Nicolai, the Berlin book-seller, who for a lengthened period of time beheld, at
certain hours of the day, phantasms of his friends, living and dead, so like the
originals that for a time he could scarcely distinguish them from the persons
themselves, plainly prove there may be the subjective experiences of sight with-
out any objective reality.

In explanation of this fact. Sir David Brewster declares : '* When the eye
is not exposed to the impressions of external objects, or when it is insensible to
these objects on account of being engrossed with its own operations, any object
of mental contemplation, which has either been called up by the memory or
•created by the imagination n'ill be seen as distinctly as if it had been formed from
the vision of a real objects

"I have found," he adds, "that they follow the motion of the eye-ball exactly
like the spectral impressions of luminous objects, and that they resemble them
also in their apparent immobility when the eye-ball is displaced by an external
force. If this result be found generally true by others, it will follow that the
objects of mental contemplation may be seen as distinclly as external objects, and
will occupy the same local position in the axis of vision as if they had been formed
by the agency of light." ^

In abnormal conditions of mind and body, or when the emotions are deeply

1 66

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Stirred, the mind seems to have power to present to the organs of sense spectres
whose only existence is found in this presentation.

The most important development of the belief in apparitions is found in
modern Spiritualism. Opponents of Spiritualism declare that it is helping to fill
the lunatic asylum, and are met by the rejoinder that it is not the only religion
which originates religious madness. To quote again from Mr. Lang : " Modern
Spiritualism arose from one of the commonest superstitions in the world — the
belief in haunted houses. What the Germans call Paltergeist (the noisy spirit
that raps and throws about furniture) is not peculiar to any country. We find
it in Japan (see tales of Old Japan), in Russia, in Egypt. Pliny tells of the
haunted house of Athenodorus in Athens. In Iceland the ghost of the dead
thrall Glam raps on the roofs in the Gretti's Saga ; and the Dyaks, Singhalese
and Siamese agree with the Esths as to such routing and rapping being caused
by spirits." Such disturbances, accompanied with apparitions, haunted the
house inhabited by Mrs. Ricketts, a sister of Earl St. Vincent. Scott says in
reference to this case that ** no one has seen an authentic account from the
Earl "; but his sister's account has recently been published (see the Gentleman's
Magazine for May, 1872). Everyone has heard of the rappings in the house of
the elder Wesley, Glanvil in his Saddiicismus Triiimphatus has left well
authenticated reports of many cases, notably that of the drummer of Tedworth.
The house of Mr. Mompesson, of Tedworth, in 1651, was disturbed by continual
noises, furniture moving of its own accord, raps that could be guided by raps
given by the spectators. Precisely the same phenomenon occurred in the house of
Mr. Fox, in West New York, in 1847-8. It was discovered by the dautj;hter.
Miss Kate Fox, a child of nine years, that the raps replied to hers. An alphabet
was then brought, the raps spelled out words by knocking when certain letters
were pointed to, and modern Spiritualism was born. It has again and again
attracted notice in England ; medium after medium has crossed the Atlantic ;
impostures have been exposed and defended ; and opinion continues to be
divided on the subject.

As illustrating the views held by its ablest defendeis, Mr. Lang quotes the
late Augustus de Morgan as saying: "I am perfectly convinced in a manner
which should make unbelief impossible that I have seen things called spiritual
which cannot be taken by a rational being to be capable of explanation by
imposture, coincidence or mistake." He also quo ?s the contentions of Mr.
Dale Owen in his book " The Debatable Land," as follows :

I. There exists in the presence of certain sensitives of highly nervous
organization a mysterious force capable of moving ponderable bodies, and which
exhibits intelligence. Temporary formations, material in structure and cognizable
by the senses, are produced by the same influence — for example, hands which
«rasp with living power.

APPARiriONS AND VISIONS.

le
il

e
h

167

2. This force and the resulting phenomena are developed in a greater or
less degree, according to the conditions of the sensitive, and in a measure by
atmospherical conditions.

3. The intelligence which governs this force is independent of and external
to the minds of the investigator and of the medium. For example, questions
unknown to eicher (sic), and in language unknown to either, are duly answered.

4. The origin of these phenomena is an open question.

On the above contentions of Mr. Owen, Mr. Lang points out that most of
this phenomena is exhibited in the presence of sensitives, who are paid for their
work and who prefer a dark room. He contended that the conclusions of men
of science, who have attended these seances, and the arguments of Spiritualists in
defence, may be summed up as follows :

ist. — As a ri'!'^, nothing worthy of notice occurs at the seances when compe-
tent observers are present. Spiritualists reply that the spiritual kingdom cnii
only be entered after long and patient attendance at the seances, and that the
presence of the sceptic destroys the force of the spiritual influences.

2nd. — When strange phenomena have beei witnessed, they have often been
traced to conscious imposture and legerdemain. Spiritualists admit the existence
of much imposture, but claim that scientific men should detect the realities that
( o-exist with the imposture.

3rd. — Where conscious imposture does not exist, unconscious cerebration and
tinconsc/oiis nmscnlar action, supervening on a state of expectant attention, are
just as deceitful. Spiritualists claim that they have seen such phenomena as
no consciously -cxexied muscular power could produce, and heard replies that
did not exist in their latent consciousness. Hence they argue in behalf of a
new force.

4th. — The received spiritualistic theory belongs to the philosophy of savages.
A savage looking on a spiritualistic seance would feel perfectly at home. The
Spiritualist argues that the belief of the savage is an undesigned coincidence of
great confirmatory strength.

5th. — The reported sa\ ings and doings of the spirits are trivial, irreverent,
useless and shocking. Spiritualists reply, with Swedenborg, that death works
no immediate change in character or knowledge, and agree with Plato in the
"Phaido" that the lowest and idlest souls are the most likely to re-visit the earth.

As an illustration of the wide divergence of views entertained upon the sub-
ject of apparitions, we call attention to the views of J. H. Jung-Stilling, and of
Mr. Thomson Jay Hudson, as representing the two extremes of faith and scepti-
cism as to the reality of apparitions.

JOHANN HEINRICH JUNG-STILLING's THEORY OF VISIONS.

J. H. Jung-Stilling was born at Florenburgh, a village of Westphalia in
Germany, September 12th, 1740. He was the son of humble, pious parents.

i68

GLIMPSES Ol- THE UNSEEN.

His mother, a womai of most excellent spirit, died while he was quite younjj,
and the care of his tender years devolved upon the father. " Young Ileinrich
was a boy of vivid imagination, of exquisite nervous organization, of great sensi-
bility. His father, a tailor, was a man of the sternest piety, who endeavored to
instil the spirit of piety into every act of his son's life. V'oung Stilling's life in its
providential aspects presents the appearance of a succession of miracles, entering
the university, as he did, without a dollar in his pocket, and being assisted in a
great number of instances in a most remarkable manner in answer to prayer.
This with the remarkable manner in which his courtship was conducted are
quite sufficient to render his life history entirely unique. Suffice it to say that
the humble peasant boy of Westphalia gradually rose from one stage of
repute and vocation to another until he became professor of the universities of
Heidelberg and Markenny and private aulic-counsellor to the Grand Dake of
Baden. His famous work on pneumatology, from which we shall copy his sum-
marized theory of the human spirit and of visions, was edited by Rev. George
Bush, and published in New York in 1851.

BRIEF SUMMARY OF MY THEORY OF PNEUMATOLOGY, AND INFERENCES FR(JM IT.

1. The whole creation consists solely of essential realized ideas of the
Deity, or pronounced words of God ; I call these ideas original existences. No
being, except God, knows them all, and none is acquainted with their true, real
and peculiar nature.

2. Among the infinite number of these original existences, there are various
classes, which are fully conscious of themselves, form ideas of other original
existences, and possess reason and free will : to these belong spirits, angels and
men.

3. We mortal are totally unacquainted with the mental powers (that is, the
faculty of imagination, thought and judgment) and the will of other classes of
rational beings, and only partially so with our own.

4. In our present natural state, we cannot attain to any knowledge of
created things in any other way than through the medium of our five organs of
senses.

5. If any change be made in our organs of sense, or their inward arrange-
ment be altered, our ideas of things, and with them our knowledge, become
different. For instance, if our eye were otherwise formed, all colors, forms^
figures, dimensions and distances, would also be different ; and the same is the
case with all the five senses.

6. Beings that are differently organized to ourselves form an entirely
different idea of our world to what we do. Hence it follows incontestably that
the ideas we form of the creation, and all the science and knowledge resn'ting
from them, depend entirely upon our organization.

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS,

169

7. God views everything as it is in itself, and, in reality, out of time and
space. For, if he viewed things in space, and as no space can be conceived as
really existing unless limited, the views which God takes would therefore also
be limited, which is impossible; conse(]uently no space exists out of us in nature,
but our ideas of it arise solely from our organization.

8. If God viewed objects in succession and rotation, he would exist in time,
and thus again be limited. Now as this is impossible, time is therefore also a
mode of thinking peculiar to finite capacities, and not anything true or real.
But we mortals neither can nor ought to think otherwise than in time and space.

9. Animal Magnetism undeniably proves that we have an inward man, a
soul, which is constituted of the divine spark, the immortal spirit, possessing
reason and will, and of a luminous bc^dy, which is inseparable from it.

10. Light, electric, magnetic, galvanic matter and ether, appear to be all
one and the same body under different modifications. The light or ether is the
element which connects soul and body and the spiritual and material world
together.

11. When the inward man, the human soul, forsakes the inward sphere,
where the senses operate, and merely continues the vital functions, the body falls
into an entranced state, or a profound sleep, during which the soul acts n vOii
more freely, powerfully and actively, all its faculties being elevated.

12. The more the soul is divested of the body, the more extensive, free and
powerful is its inward sphere of operation. It has, therefore, no need whatever
of the body in order to live and exist ; the latter is rather a hindrance to it ; it
is exiled into its dull and gloomy prison because it is its medium of communi-
cation with the visible world, of which it has need in its present state, in order
to its ennoblement and perfection.

13. The whole of these propositions are sure and certain inferences which I
have drawn from experiments in animal magnetism. These most important
experiments undeniably show that the soul does not require the organs of sense
in order to be able to see, hear, smell, taste and feel in a much more perfect
state ; but with this great difference, that in such a state it stands in much nearer
connection with the spiritual than the material world.

14. The soul, in this state, has no perception whatever of the visible world ;
but if it be brought into reciprocal connection (rapport) with some one who is in
his natural state, and acts through the meciium of his corporeal senses— for
instance, when the latter lays his hand on the pit of the heart of the former — it
becomes conscious of the visible world through him, and in him is sensible of it.

15. When the soul is in this exalted state, it certainly exists in time, be-
cause it cannot do otherwise than think in succession : all finite spirits are in
this situation, so that they only reflect upon and form an idea of one thing at a
time, but they do not live in space.

l:|l|

.^M

!»•

I70

C.MMFSES OK TH1<: UNSICEN.

1 6. Space is merely the operation of the material orfjjans of sense : out of
them it has no existence ; therefore, as soon as the soul forsakes the latter, all
proximity and distance ceases. Hence, if it stands in rapport with a person
who is many thousand miles distant from it, it can impart knowledge, by an in.
ward communication, and receive it from such a one, and all this as rapidly as
thoughts follow each other.

17. This operation of one human being upon another would occasion dread-
ful confusion in the present state of existence, if the doors of this mystery were
easy to be unfolded. But the Most Merciful has rendered this not 1 isily possible,
l^ie continual increr ^ of wledge in every department, joinf with an in-
creasing falling away Von't "hrist and His most holy religion, will, however,
eventually occasion thr:-.?: b t 'ers to be burst and the Holy oi Holies to be
plundered; but then the ..leasuri f iniquity will be full. Woe unto him that
publishes to the world things so sacred !

18. When the soul is separated from the body, it is wherever it thinks to be ;
for as space is only its mode of thmking, but does not exist except in its idea, it
is always at the place which it represents to itself, if it may be there.

19. Time being also, in fact, a mere mode of thinking, and not existing in
reality, the departed soul may be susceptible of future things, but only in so far
as the laws of the spiritual world permit.

20. By magnetism, nervous disorders, long-continued efforts of the soul,
and by oiher secret means, a person who has a natural pre-disjwsition of it, may
in the present life detacli his soul, in a greater or less degree, from its corporeal
organization; and, in proportion as this takes place, it comes into contact (rap-
port) with the world of spirits. I call that by which it becomes susceptible of
the objects of the latter its faculty, or organ of presentiment, and its detachment
from the most refined part ot the nervous system its development.

21. It is a divine and irreversible law that mankind, in the present state,
Bhouid be guided, with respect to temporal and sensible things, by just and
rational inferences, the result of a sound understanding ; but with respect to
tliose things which arc above sense, by the Word of God, and in both together,
by Divine Providence.

22. For as time and space are only modes of thinking suited to the state,
but by which we are unable to comprehend original existences as they really are,
it is impossible that rational inferences, though mathematically just, can serve
to guide us into the truths of the invisible world, when their premises are founded
on modes of thinking adapted to the visible world. Hence arise nothing but
horrid contradictions and pernicious errors; and this is just the case with the
rationalism of the present day in reference to spiritual things.

23. If it be, therefore, a divine law that mankind in the present state should
be guided in temporal things by reason, and in those which are spiritual and

APl'ARrnuNS AND VISIONS.

171

divine solely by the Holy Scriptures, and in both by Providence, and if we
ought not to know anything of the future except what God of his free favor
reveals to us without our own end(!avors, it is undeniably a hf inous sin when any
one seeks to develop the faculty of presentiment in ordei ■(< learn things future
or remote, or, i^y connection with the spiritual world, to bt me acquainted w.di
hidden mysteries.

24. If a person obtains a developed organ of presentiment entirely without
his own wishing or seeking it, either through illness or any other not sinful cause,
he is in a dangerous state ; for it is amazingly difficult, and requires a high
degree of divine light, to avoid the abuse of a thing so extremely attractive.

25. When a far-advanced and enlightened Christian falls into this state, he
attaches no value to it : on the contrary, he humbles himself before his God, and
fervently implores wisdom and prote . *^ against the abuse of it. If he then
comes into situations where he thinks \it ; y be of some service, he employs this
disease of the soul for that purpose ■ *"he icar of God.

26. When an unconverted, w .Jy winded man develops his faculty of pre-
sentiment, he falls into danger of idola y und sorcery. Preachers and physicians
ought, therefore, to instruct the i^^ ra^t upon this important point.

27. There is also another wei<;,.xty reason why the development of the faculty
of presentiment is dangerous ; for by it spirits have opportunity of influencing
the individual, presenting all kinds of images to his mind and insinuating
thoughts into it. Now, as the whole atmosphere is full of evil spirits, and only
such as are partially good — the former being on the alert to deceive men, und(!r
the guise of angels of light, and the latter in error themselves — and as the soul,
while in its fleshy prison, has not the gift of trying the spirits, the man may be
dreadfully misled ; and here is the very source of much fanaticism, heresy, and
of many abominable errors.

28. Real presentiments — that is, when Providence causes a man to be
warned of some impending misfortune by the ministry of angels — ought to be
well distinguished from a developed organ of presentiment. The former have
always some suitable object in view, the latter generally none at all.

29. The case is the same with the gift of prophecy, which must also be
clearly distinguished from the developed faculty of presentiment. The former
has always some sublime end in view for the good of mankind, while the latter
often prognosticates funerals and things of no importance.

30. The boundless ether, that fills the space of our solar system, is the
element of spirits, in which they live and move. The atmosphere that surrounds
our earth down to its centre, and particularly the night, is the abode of fallen
angels, and of such human souls as die in an unconverted state. The Bible calls
the whole of this space Sheol and Hades ; that is, the receptacle of the dead.

31. Previous to the dawning of the Lord's kingdom, the air shall be purified

'tC'

«7»

(W-IMI'SKS OF THK UNSEKN.

from all evil spirits, and they shall be cast into the mighty abyss, which is in
the centn* of the earth.

32. When a Mian dies, the soul gradually divests itself of the body and
awakes in Hades. It is no longer conscious of the visible world ; the world ol
spirits apj)(,'ars to it as an interminable glimmering space, in which it can move
itself with the rapidity of thought ; and, as its organ of presentiment is now fully
developed, it likewise sees the spirits that are in Hades.

33. Souls and spirits communicate; their thoughts to each other through the
medium of the will ; wlu;ii one soul wishes another to know any particular thing,
the latter immediately knows it : the one reads it in the interior of ths other
even as the somnambulist reads it in the soul of him with whom he stands in
rapport,

34. "Where your treasure is, there your heart is also." Souls that are
not yet dead to the world remain below in the regions of darkness; and if tliey
have served fleshy lusts, their abode is with their bodies in the grave.

35. The souls of all such as have only led a decent, civil life, and who,
though not vicious, are still no true Christians, must undergo a long purification
in the waste and desert Hades, by enduring the dei)rivation of all that is dear to
them, and of every enjoyment, while longing, most painfully, after that earthly
life which has forever fled ; and thus be gradually prepared for the lowest degree
of bliss.

36. The souls of the wicked, on departing from the body, a/e surrounded
by evil spirits, that torment them in various ways ; the more wicked they have
been, the deeper they sink into the bottomless pit. Their sufferings are dreadful

37. The souls of true Christians, that have trodden the path of sanctifi-
cation, and who expired in the exercise of true faith in Jesus Christ, in the grace
of His atonement, and in complete renunciation of everything earthly, are re-
ceived, immediately on awaking from the sleep of death, by angels, and without
delay conducted upward to the pure regions of light, where they enjoy the fulness
of bliss.

38. Departed souls have a creative power, which, during the present state
and in this rude and material world, can only be exercised with trouble and
expense, and in a very imperfect manner ; but after death, the will of the soul
is really able to produce that w^hich the imagination conceives.

39. Those souls which are not yet dead to the world, and whose imagination
is still occupied with the favorite ideas of their former life, seek to realize these
ideas ; but, after all, they are mere atmospheric forms, which are unable to
afford any enjoyment. The soul is also as little capable of enjoying; it has no
longer any of the organs of sense. Hence the notorious haunting of old build-
ings, where these wretched spirits seek to renew their former revels.

40. There is no foundation in the nature and laws of the spiritual world for

AIM'Aki IIONS AND VISIONS.

•73

the doctrine of trnnsinif^r.itioii. A S( .1 may pass centuries in Hades before
it advances any further, but it never returns into a human body. The spiritual
world lias sufficient means of purification ; there is no need tlicre of a return to
a life of sense.

41. When the soul departs out of this life with an unsatisfied desire, it ex-
periences painful sufferinj^s, althou<i;ht it mi<^ht be otlu^wise cajiahle of heavenly
felicity. To be delivered from these sufferinj^s, it often lon^s for some om; still
alive, who may fulfil its desire, and emjiloys the means which are known to it to
gain its end ; hence the apparition of spirits.

42. Everyone outjht, therefore, to divest himself betimes — and the sooner
the better — of all attachment to earthly thinjjjs, and should anything occur to him
in his departin<^ hour that ouj^ht still to be done or arranged, and which is no
longer jjossible to do, let him commit the affair to Him who can make good
everything, and continue in this confidence even after death; for his return and
re-appearing are contrary to the Divine order. There may, however, be excep-
tions to this rule ; and it is an indispensable duty for those to whom a spirit
appears to treat and inform it better, with seriousness and charity.

43. We can learn nothing from spirits that are still in Hades, for they know
nothing more than we do, except that they see further into futurity ; but this we
ought not to know. Besides this, they may err and wilfully deceive. We ought,
therefore, by all means, to seek to avoid intercourse with them. Spirits in a
state of perfect bliss, or such as are really damned, never appear.

44. Every man has one or more guardian spirits about him : these are good
angels, and perhaps also the departed souls of pious men. Children are attended
solely by good spirits ; but as the individual gradually inclines to evil, evil spirits
approach him. The good, however, do not forsake him on this account, until
they see that he is hardened in sin and become entirely reprobate : they then
depart from him and leave him to his awful fate.

45. As the individual turns from evil to good, the good spirits draw near to
him with great delight ; and the more he increases in faith and sanctification, the
more active and beneficial do they become. Good spirits have power over evil
spirits; but the will of man is free ; if it incline to evil, the good cannot help
him. We ought not to seek intercourse with guardian spirits, for we are nowhere
referred to them.

46. The sleep of the soul — or that state in which the soul is supposed to
rest, in unconsciousness and inactivity, from death till the resurrection at the
last day — has no foundation in scripture, but merely in the erroneous idea that
the soul necessarily requires its body in order to act ; but, ^s magnetic experi-
ments and the apparitions of spirits incontestably prove the contrary, the sleep
of the soul is an error, and entirely out of the question.

47. It is an evident and manifest truth that the soul, when delivered from

' II

tummmitmiimfSmmZji'

«74

CMMI'SICS OF TIIK UNSKICN.

the body, acts more powerfully and freely, and that its powers are much superior,
than while iinprisoiuul in the body. Why, then, has the Creator exiled it into
this limited and lamentable slate ?

48. The answer is easy : because it has fallen from that perfect sta te in
which it was createil. In Paradise, man stood connected with both the spiritual
and the material worlds, anil was sensible of objects in bcjlh. lie ate of the
fruit of the tree of life in the spiritual world, and ouf^'ht to have avoided the tree
of temjitation in the visible world ; but he sou<;ht lo unite ihein both together.
If blternal Love had not ejected him from Paradise, and excluded him from con-
nection with the world of spirits, he would have become a devil, lixcuse this
mystic interpretation : it detracts nuthin«^ from the truth of the relation.

49. The soul is in a state of restraint in its clothinfi; of skins — its cumber-
some body, which it must sustain with much trouble, and because of which it
has much to suffer. Instead of bein<^ able to satisfy its hunj^er alter l<nowl'^d<^e
and happiness, the organization of its body deceives it with imperfect ideas and
transitory enjoyments, whicii only iriaUe its hunger the more insatiable.

50. Here the door to the great mystery of redemption by Christ is unfolded.
The soul would not have been saved, even in this state. It might have been less
injured in the world of spirits ; but this did not satisfy Eternal Love, which
destines it to be redeemed and blest, and made more happy than it would have
been had it never fallen — if it will now but follow and be obedient to the counsel
of God.

51. The Logos, the Word of God, by whom the eternal, hidden and Al-
mighty One manifested Himself in an endless numerical progression and suc-
cession — that is, in time — became man; and by his suffering, death and resurrection
made His flesh and blood a leaven, by which every soul that feeds upon it in true
faith is renovated, and often, being delivered from its earthly prison, is translated
into the regained heavenly element, until, after the resurrection, it i)uts on its
original glory and is placed in a paradise, in comparison with which the first
was a mere shadow.

52. From all that has been said, it is clear that materialism, with its meta-
physical illumination, is a mere but very dangerous creature of the brain — a
boundless and bottomless deception. Superior illumination in the sciences and
in the knowledge of nature, in so far as it alleviates our earthly thraldom, and
has influence upon our progress to perfection, is laudable and useful ; but with
respect to that which is supernatural and concerns our return to our eternal
home, we require the superior revealed light of the word of God, and the en-
lightening of the Holy Spirit. Furnished with this enlightened reason, that lunar
orb in the darkness of this life may then point out the right path.

53. Real bliss commences first at the resurrection, when the glorified body,
fashioned after the likeness of Christ, shall be again united to the soul ; and the

An'AKiriONS AND VISIONS.

'7S

complete mnn will then be organized, both (or the <;lorific(l, visible worUl and also
for the world of spirits.

54. Paradise is that part of Hades which is appointed for the preparation
and abode of souls in a state of f^race. It forms part of the third luiaven {2 Cor.
xii : 2-4). Now Christ said to the thief, "'J'o-day shalt thou be with rnc* in l*ara-
dise " (Luke xxiii : 43); but Christ was in Hades between I lis (h^ath and resur-
rection (i l\;ter iii : i(^) ; and, according; to John (xx: 17), lie had not ascended
to His Father iinnuuliately after I lis resurrection. He had, therefore, ben in
Hades, in Paradise, where the vision of (iod is still wanting;.

55. Real damnation commences first at the resurrection ; the resurrection
f^erm of the body of sin will then be united with the soul, and the whole man be
i>anishcd into the bottomless jiit, with all the evil spirits, the centre of which is
the lake that burnetii with (ire and brimstone, and which is in the centre of the
body of the earth.* The Lord, the Merciful, who is l"lverlastin<^ Love, preserve
every reader of this book ("rom such a dreadful (ate ! — Amen.

THE VIEWS OF THOMPSON JAY HUDSON.

No book of the day in the line of tlu!orizin<; on mental phenomena has
attracted wider attention than " The Law of Psychic Phenomena," by Thomj)-
son Jay Hudson, LL.D., of Washington, D.C. Mr. Hudson's work is a bold
attempt to lind a working hypothesis for the systematic study of hypnotism,
spiritism and mental therapeutics. He starts out by pointing out the absence
of a working hypothesis sufficiently broad to embrace all psychic phenomena,
and the fact that the ablest thinkers have long (elt that all psychic manifesta-
tions, normal or abnormal, whether designated mesmerism, hypnotism, som-
nambulism, trance, spiritism, demonology, miracle, mental therapeutics, genius
or insanity, are in some way related. His theory may be summarized as follows :

I. Man has, or appears to have, two minds, each endowed with separate or
distinct attributes and powers, each capable, under certain conditions, of inde-
pendent action.

He points out that it is a matter of indifference whether we admit man has
two minds, or one mind possessed of certain attributes and powers in some
conditions, and certain other attributes and powers under other conditions.
Everything happens just as though man was endowed with a dual mental
organization. He designates the one the objective mind and the other tlie
subjective mind.

'These conceits of the resurrection-germ, the burning lake a id the centra' n •>■;'", must be placed to the account
rather of a pious reverence for the letter of Holy Writ than of a (;c(mine philosophy or psychology ; nor are they, in fact,
altogether consistent with the author's very reasonable suggcs ioti.~< in regard to the nonexistence of spiace in the spiritual
world. Every man's heaven or hell is found within himself, independent of all locality. At the same time, we may admit
111 >t, by the laws of our internal economy, there will be appearances in the other world answering very nearly to what our
author understands to be the reality. See Sweden! org's treatises on "Heaven and Hell " throughout. — Rkv. Gbo. Bu ;u.

J76

C.I.IMI'SKS OF THK UNSEEN.

2. The sul)jcctive mind is constantly amenable to control by suggestion.

3 The subjective mind is incapable of inductive reasoning.

4. The objective mind takes cognizance of the objective world. Its media
of observation are the five senses. It is the outgrowth of man's physical neces-
sities. It is his guide in his struggle with his material environinent. Its highest
function i.-, that of reasoning.

5 The subjective mind takes cognizance of its environment by means inde-
pendent of tlie physical senses. It perceives by intuition. It is the seat of the
eiiiotir ns and the storehouse of the memory. It performs its highest functions
when the objective senses are in abeyance. In a word, it is that intelligence
that makes itself manifest in a hypnotic subject when he is in a state of som-
nambulism.

In this state many of the most wonderful feats of the subjective mind are
performed. It sees without the use of the natural organs of vision, and in this
and in many other grades or degrees of the hypnotic state it can be made,
apparently, to leave the body and travel to distant lands and bring back intelli-
gence, oftentimes of the most exact and truthful character. It has also the
power to read the thoughts of others, even to the minutest details ; to read the
contents of sealed envelopes and closed books. In short, it is the subjective
mind that possesses what is popularly designated as clairvoyant power, and the
ability to read the thoughts of others without the aid of the ordinary objective
means of communication.

6. The objective mind is merely the functions of the physical brain, while
the subjective mind is a distinct entity, possessing independent powers and
functions, having a mental organization of its own, and being capable of sustain-
ing an existence independently of the body. In other words, it is the soul.

7. Another chief point of difference between the two minds relates to the
subject of suggestion.

The objective mind, or man in his normal condition, is not controlable,
against reason, positive knowledge, or the evidence of his senses, by the sugges-
tions of another ; while the subjective mind, or man in the hypnotic state, is
unqualifiedly and constantly amenable to the power of suggestion. The subjec-
tive mind accepts every statement without hesitation or doubt, no matter how
absurd or incongruous. If the subject is told he is a dog, he will instantly
accept the suggestion, and to limit of the physical possibility he v/ill act the part
suggested.

The sul)jecLive mind, having independent powers and functions and being
controlled by suggestion, it follows necessarily that it is as amenable to sugges-
tions of his own objective mind as to the suggestions of any other mind. Hence
a person cannot be hypnotized against his will. And a hypnotic subject, who,
before submitting to hypnotic suggestion, determines that he will not submit, say.

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

«77

the

ling
les-
see
ho,

to certain experiments, cannot be induced durin*^ hypnotism to yield to such
experiments.

8. The reasoning of the subjective mind, unhke that of the objective mind,
which is capable of every kind of reasonini^, is purely deductive. It gets its
premises entirely from suggestion and its processes of reasoning are always in
the line of deductions from the premises suggested. It is incapable of argument
— dogmatic in all its conclusions and confused when any of its deductions are
questioned.

g. This subjective mind has a perfect mcmor}', which accounts for facts long
since forgotten being recalled in the hypnotic condition, and for ■ .ly apparently
marvelous communications made through mediums who are . rnply revealing
the latent contents of their own mind, or that of some; friend with whom they are
at the time oi rapport.

The subjective mind never sleeps. It comprehends with preternatural
acuteness everything that occurs. It notes the lapse of time and perceives the
fixed laws of nature.

ID. The three normal functions of the subjective mind are self-preservation,
propagation and preservation of offspring. These are so strong and invariable
in their working as to largely diminisii the chances of crime originating by
hypnotic suggestion,

II. In his chapter on " Mental Therapeutics," our author lays down the fol-
lowing propositions :

(a) There is, inherent in man, a power which enables him to communicate
his thoughts to others, independently of objective means of communication .

(b) A state of perfect passivity on the part of the percipient is the most
favorable condition for the reception of telepathic impressions or communica-
tions.

(d) The subjective mind is amenable to control by suggestion during natural
sleej), just the same as it is during induced sleep.

(e) The condition of natural sleep, being the mo;it perfect passive condition
attainable, is the best condition for the reception of telepathic impressions by the
subjective mind.

(f) The most perfect condition for the conveyance of telepathic impressions
is that of natural sleep.

(g) The subjective mind of the agent can be compelled to communicate
telepathic impressions to a sleeping percipient by strongly willing it just previous
to going to sleep.

The conclusion from all of which is this : — The best possible condition for the
conveycuice of therapeutic siioocstions from the healer to the patient is attained when
both are in a state of natural sleep; and that such suggestions can be so communi-
cated by an e^'ort of :vill on the part of the iiealer just before goino tp sleep.

»78

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Mr. Hudson relates that over a hundred successful experiments of recovery
of health have been made by himself in treating by mental suggestion his
afflicted friends and acquaintances.

12. The last and most surprising part of Mr. Hudson's theory we shall
mention, and one which, with the foregoing, he thinks will account for all the
phenomena of Spiritism without recourse to the agency of spirits, is this :

The subjective mind, or entity, possesses physical power ; that is, the power
to make itself heard and felt, and to move ponderable objects.

How largely this theory may be able to explain the various wonderful
incidents hereafter narrated in this chapter we leave the reader to judge. It is
for him to adopt this, or the theory of Jung-Stilling, or any intermediate theory
he may consider best fitted to the facts of the case or most in harmony with
reason and revelation.

SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS.

The following examples of spectral illusions are taken from Abercrombie,
on " The Intellectual Powers."

1st. A gentleman of high mental endowments, now upwards of eighty years
of age. of spare habit and enjoying uninterrupted health, has been for nearly
twelve years liable to almost daily visitations from spectral figures. They, in
general, present human countenances; the head and upper parts of the body are
distinctly defined ; the lower parts are, for the most part, lost in a kind of cloud.
The figures are various, but he recognizes the same countenances repeated from
time to time, particularly, of late years, that of an elderly woman, with a peculi-
arly arch and playful expression and a dazzling brilliancy of eye, who seems
just ready to speak to him. They appear also in various dresses, such as that
of the age of Louis XIW, the costume of ancient Rome, that of the modem
Turks and Greeks, but more frequently, of late, as in the case of the female now
mentioned, in an old-fashioned plaid of tartan, drawn up and brought forward
over the head, then crossed below the chin, as the plaid was worn by aged
women in his younger days. He can seldom recognize among the spectres any
figure or countenance he remembers to have seen ; but his own face has occasion-
ally been presented to him, gradually undergoing the change from youth to man-
hood, and from manhood to old age. The figures appear at various times of
the day, both night and morning ; they continue before him for some time, and
he sees them almost equally well with his eyes open or shut, in full daylight or
in darkness. They are almost always of a pleasant character, and he seems to
court their presence as a source of amusement to him. He finds he can banish
them by drav/ing his hand across his eyes, or by shutting and opening his eyelids
once or twice for a second or two ; but on these occasions they often appear again
soon after. These figures are sometimes of tliC size of life, and sometimes in

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

179

hgcun
^s in

miniature ; but they are always defined and finished with the clearness and
minuteness of the finest paintin^^. They sometimes appear as if at a considerable
distance, and gradually approach until they almost seem to touch his face. At
other times they float from side to side or disappear in ascending or descending.
In general, the countenance of the spectre is presented to him, but on some
occasions he sees the back of the head, both of males and females, exhibiting
various fashions of wigs and head-dresses, particularly the flowing full-bottomed
wig of a former age. At the time when these visions began to appear to him he
was in the habit of taking little or no wine, and this has been his common practice
ever since; but he flnds that any addition to his usual quantity of wine increases
the number and vivacity of the visions. Of the effect of bodily illness he can
give no account, except that once when he had a cold and took a few drops of
laudanum, the room appeared entirely filled with peculiarly brilliant objects — gold
and silver ornaments, and precious gems ; but the spectral visions were either
not seen or less dislinct.

2nd. The following account our author declares was communicated to him
by Dr. Dewar, of Stirling. It occurred in a lady who was quite blind, her eyes
being also disorganized and sunk. She never walked out without seeing a little
old woman with 1 red cloak and a crutch, who seemed to walk before her. She
had no illusions when within doors.

3rd. The case of a gentleman was communicated to me who has been all
his life affected by the appearance of spectral figures. To such an extent does
Lhis peculiarity exist, that, if he meets a friend in the street, he cannot, at first,
satisfy himself whether he really sees the individual or a spectral figure. By close
attention he can remark a difference between them, in the outline of the real
figure being more distinctly defined than that of the spectral ; but, in general, he
takes means for correcting his visual impression by touching the figure, or by
listening to the sound of his footsteps. He has also the power of calling up spec-
tral figures at his will, by directing his attention steadily to the conception of his
own mind ; and this may either consist of a figure or a scene which he has seen,
or it may be a composition created by his imagination. But though he has the
faculty of producing the illusion, he has no power of banishing it, and when he
has called up any particular spectral figure or scene, he can never say how long
it may continue to haunt him. The gentleman is in the prime of life, of sound
mind, in good health and engaged in business. Another of his family has been
affected in the same manner, though in a slighter degree.

4th. Intense mental conceptions may be so strongly impressed upon the
mind as, for the moment, to be believed to have a real existence. The following^
example is mentioned by Dr. Hibbert: " A gentleman was told of the sudden
death of an old and intimate friend, and was deeply affected by it. The im-
pression, though partially banished by the business of the day, was renewed from

;i I

i8o

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

time to time by conversing with his family and other friends. After supper ue
•went, by himself, to walk in a small court behind his house, which was bounded
by extensive gardens. The sky was clear and the night serene, and no light was
faliir.g upon the court from any of the windows. As he walked down stairs he
was not thinking of anything connected with his deceased friend, but when he
had proceeded at a slow pace about half way across the court, the figure of his
friend started up before him in a most distinct manner at the opposite angle of
the court. ' He was not in his usual dress, but in a coat of a different color,
which he had for some months left off wearing. I could even remark a figured
vest which he had also worn about the same time ; also a colored silk handker-
chief around his neck, in which I used to see him in the morning ; and my pow-
ers of vision seemed to become more keen as 1 gazed on the phantom before me.'
The narrator then mentions the indescribable feeling which shot through
his frame ; but he soon recovered himself and walked briskly up to the spot, keep-
ing his eyes intently fixed upon the spectre. As he approached the spot it
vanished, not by sinking into the earth, but seeming to melt insensibly into air."

A VISION EXPLAINED.

In the December number oi Harper's Maoazine, {ox 'qi, Mark Twain, in
concluding an article on " Mental Telegraphy," relates how he c-ame to drag out
a MS. on this subject, written some years before and prepare ' for publication.
In explaining what led to this action, he tells a very good siory o^ an 'apparition
or vision and suggests possible explanations of many otlier similar visions. We
will let him tell his own story : "So', thing that happened vhe other day brought
my hoary MS. to mind, and that ..•; h ■ I came to dig it out from its dusty
pigeon-hole grave for publication. T!ic tiiin.; that happened was a question.
A lady asked it : ' Have you ever had \ • i^5iwn — when awake ?' I was about to
answer promptly, when the last two words of the c^uestion began to grow and
spread and swell, and presently they attained to vast dimensions. Slie did not
know that they were important ; and I did not at first, but I soon saw that they
were putting me on the track of the solution of a mystery which had perplexed
me a good deal. You will see what I mean when I get down to it. Ever since
the English Society for Psychical Research began its searching investigations of
ghost stories, haunted Ikjuscs and apparitions of the living and the dead, I have
re^.d their pamphlets with avidity as fast as they arrived. Now one of their
cuiiMronf,:-*^ enquiries of a dnamer or a vision-seer is : ' Are you sure you were
awake it the ti: le ?' If llu- in. ill can't say he is sure he was awake, a doubt falls
upon hir't"!" t'g'it tll'T''. U 'L if litJ is positive he was awake, and offers reason-
.il/ii; c' tlenr.c to si.l-stailtiai'; It, the f;ict counts largely for the credibility of his
stor/, .'i does with tilt sdcjuty, and it did with me until that lady asked me the
above q'Tfit'on the other day.

^i, (

pey
ced

APFARiriOiNS AND VISIONS.

i8i

The question set me to considering]^, and brouj^ht me to tiie conclusion that
you can be asleep — at least wholly unconcious — for a time, and not suspect that
it has happened, and not have any way to prove that it has happened. A
memorable case was in my mind. About a year aj^o I was standing on the
porch one day, when I saw a man coming up the walk. He was a stranger and
I hoped he would ring and carry his business inlv) the house without stopping to
argue with me ; he would have to pass the front door to get to me, and I hoped
he wouldn't take the trouble ; to help, I tried to look like a stranger myself — it
often works. I was looking straight at that inan ; he had got to within ten feet
of the door and within twenty-five feet of me — and suddenly he disappeared.
It was as astounding as if a church should vanish from before your face and leave
nothing behind it but a vacant lot. I was unspeakably delighted. I had seen
an apj;arition at last, with my own eyes, in broad daylight. I made up my mind
to write an account of it to the Society. I ran to where the spectre had been, to
make sure he was playing fair, then I ran to the other end of the porch, scanning
the open grounds as I went. No, everything was perfect ; he couldn't have
escaped without my seeing him ; he was an apparition, withoui the slightest
doubt, and I would write him up before he was cold. I ran, hot with excite-
ment, and let myself in with a latch-key. When 1 :3tepped into the hall my
lungs collapsed and my heart stood still. For there sac the same apparition on
a chair, all alone and quiet and reposeful as if he had come to stay awhile. The
shock kept me quiet for a minute or two, then i said • ' Did you get in at that
door ?'

' Yes.'

' Did you ring the bell ?'

' 1 rang the bell at the door and a colored boy opened it.'

I said to myself: ' This is astoni ng. It takes George all of two minutes
to answer the door-bell when he i a hurry, and I havr; never seen him in a
hurry. But did this man stand t' minutes at the door, within five steps of
me and I not see him ?'

I should have gone to my gravt puzzling over this riddle but for that lady's
chance question last week: ' H; you ever had a vision — when awake?' It
stands explained now. During a ii ast sixty seconds that day I was asleep, or
at least totally unconscious, without suspecting it. In that interval the man
came to my immediate vicinity, rani:, stood there and waited, then entered and
closed the door, and I did not see him and did not hear the door slam.

If he had slipped around the house in that interval and gone into the cellar
— he had time enough — I should have written him up for the Society, and
magnified him, and gloated over him. and liurrahed about him, and thirty yoke
of oxen could not have pulled the belief out of me that I was of the favored
ones of the earth, and had seen a vision — while wide awake.

■WKK I MIMICIMaM

ummmfmiimmamaii

aiflit

t&2

(IMMI'SRS OF THE UNSEEN.

Now, how are you to tell when you are awake? What are you to ^o by ?
People bite their finj^ers to find out. Why, you can do that in a dream !"

REMAUKABl.K Sl'IRITKAL E\ I'KR IKXCK OF MR. DUNCAN CAMERON.

In the summer of 1880, I entered the service of the Union Bank of Scotland,
Limited, at Aberfeldy, as an apprentice. I had left a home in which my lovino
parents had brouti^ht me up " in the fear of the Lord." Yet it was not until about
three years afterwards that I came to know the Lord. In town, I was just far
enough removed from my parents to be free from their control, but my traininj^
liad been such that though I felt free from parental control, yet that same free-
dom produced in me a keen sense of personal responsibility.

Such were the moral advantatres with which I started in life. In the course
of time, however, I came to learn that my salvation must come from some source
other than advantages. For my sense of personal responsibility was gradually
weakening, and ungodly associations were asserting increasing influence over me,
until, in the spring of 1882, I began to be careless about church attendance, and
ceased to feel the irritation I was wont to when God's name was taken in vain.
I had started on the down-grade — in heart, not openly. Fortunately for me, the
believing prayers of my parents were before God, and He was merciful to me.
He brought me to my senses in the following remarkable manner :

On the night of the 7th of May, 1882, I retired between ten and eleven
o'clock, feeling in perfect health, and slept roundly until shortly after midnight,
when I was awake.'ied by " a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and
it idled " my room. I felt alarmed, for the roof and ceiling over me were thrown
open, and I heard a mighty swoop as of a great eagle bearing down on me. I
could not see him, but I knev/ a mysterious visitor had entered my chamber from
above and was face to ""ace with me. Immediately, he addressed me in a calm and
distinct tone bj- my full name — " Duncan Cameron." Surprised beyond measure, I
at once sat up in bed. He then uttered the following words: " A year from day
thou shalt die ; eighth May." Then I heard another swoop of the mighty wings
as my visitor rose heavenward, and the ceiling and roof closed over me as before.

My brother, Alistair, was sleeping by my side, and his slumber was not dis-
turbed, a fact which I cannot account for, e.xcept on the theory that the manifest-
ation was not intended for him. I did not awaken him, not did I tell him or any
one else until a year afterward what was revealed to me.

When my visitor was departed, a strange dread settled down on me, and
I thanked God with all my heart for giving me a year's warning, and I there and
then resolved I would at once be converted, and give to God the last year of my
life. The message announced the day of nny death, so I felt assui^ed that I could
not live after, nor die before, eighth May, ^88^

I began at once trying to get converted. Night after night I spent on my

)re.
lis-

IIK

lid

KUNCAX C.WIKKON.

k I

ft:

■■hi

APPARiriONS AND VISIONS.

i8s.

knees in prayer, but I could not j^ct Go'.l to ^ive me any answer. I would resolve
not to lay my head on a pillow a^ain until I was saved, and I would pray and
weep and agonize until stopped by physical exhaustion. The days, the weeks,
the months flew by with a rapidity that was simply awful, but my salvation
would not come though I sought it carefully with tears.

Nine months had passed, and I began to despair. Then the terrible conflict
within was telling on my health. Loving friends noted my changed appearance
and spoke an.xiously to me, but I kept my secret to myself. Ten months gone,
and yet unsaved. Eleven, and my darkness thickened. Oh ! the tortures I en-
dured in those days — heaven spurned my agony of a cry for mercy ; my floods
of bitter tears failed of the least pity or help, and yet only a few days till I must
die, and, as I now felt sure, perish for ever. Suggestions of suicide came, and
the idea pressed so hard at times, that I felt as though I could not prevent self-
destruction. April went out and May came in, and in those days I learned what
a soul must suffer when hope is perished.

On the fifth or sixth, a change came over me. The one great matter that
lay so heavily on my mind for a year was suddenly taken off, so that I thought
nothing at all about it again until a moment which I shall tell of later. Were it
not for this merciful relief, mind and body would have collapsed.

On the evening of the eighth, I started with some young lads for a walk.
Passing a hall, we heard sweet singing, and I said: "Let us go in here." In an
instant I was inside, but my companions did not follow. It was an evangelistic
meeting, conducted under the auspices of the Aberfeldy Y.M.C.A., by Mr.
Gourlay, the well-known shipbuilder, of Dundee, and an excellent young man
named Alexander Mill. I was at once deeply impressed. The meeting closed
at 9.30 o'clock, and anxious ones were requested to remain. I was in anguish of
spirit. I tried to pass out, but Mr. Mill prevented me. He at once dealt with me
and well he knew how, although he had never seen me before. He stuck to me
until at about ten minutes before ten o'clock, my soul was suddenly flooded with
a wonderful light and a gentle voice whispered into my ear two words — '* Eighth
May." I understood, I believed, I rejoiced in Jesus my Saviour with a joy un-
speakable. As was shown me in so strange a manner a year before, I died eighth
May, 1883. I died, but not as I expected to. I died that day to sin, and was
born again to live forever.

Now, it might be supposed that with such an experience as I had, I would
prove a steadfast young Christian. Mr. Marshall Gow, who took a special
interest in the young converts of the time, told a number of us that a certain
profane man had offered to wager ten shillings that in less than one year every
one of us young fellows would fall away. I replied: " He would lose his ten shil-
lings." Mr. William Cran, the secretary of Aberfeldy Y.M.C.A., kept us
together for a time by arranging frequent walks to a beautiful spot on the right

! 1

■ 1

i'^r!

166

ci.iMi'si.s oi' riiK L'\si;k\.

l);uik of the Kivcr Tay, halt a mile below Ahcrfeldy. There we communed with
( fod and with one another. In spite oi this and other means of ;^race, I hej^an,
in a few weeks, to be perplexed with doul)ts and a lon<;in<^' to ^o back to Ef^ypt.
One line eveninj^ in July, when the sun was low in the wi;sterri sky, about a
dozen of us were neaiinj; our resort for prayer by the river when a conflict be<,Mn
to raj^e fiercely within me. I was the last of the crowd as we descended the
slope overlookinj^ the river, and I was trying' to decide the (|uestion of f;[oinir
back or ^oinf; forward. The adversary j^ressed me sorely, and he was helped
by my knowin<i[ that some of my younj^ brethren were also tempted and at times
even inclined to <:;o back. When about twent)- yards from the river I yielded,
and said in m\- heart : " ^'('s, I will <^(^ back." In that instant, and quick as
li;^htning, the j^Mound opened belong me, and I saw a round, yawnin<; chasm,
probably one hundred yards in circumference, and my feet on the very brink of
It. .\t the same moment, an invisible at^ent seized me violently and was about
t<i hurl me into the abyss, (ireatly terrorized, 1 tried to physically resist, but
my feet slipped on the dreadful brink, and 1 was alto^^ether helpless in the
clutch of the unseen power. V'^ery ([uickly I raised my hands and eyes to
heaven and cried : " O, (iod ! " That prayer of two words is the shortest prayer
I have ever said, and also the most intensely earnest. It is also the one most
(juickly answered, for as soon as 1 called I was delivered. From that supreme
moment till this I have not wished to <i;o back into bonda<;e.

My companions knew nothing of what had occurred to me, and I did not tell
them. Their feet wert; treading on what I saw to be an abyss, and the river
flowed smoothly over it. If gravitation but held sway in the realm I was per-
mitted .o see, I should have seen my companions sink and the river fall. But
they didn't.

That I was greatly blessed and strengthened by God by means of the
awful revelation I was assured of, both by my own experience and by the testimony
of my young friends, who, as soon as our prayers on that occasion were over, said
to me : " O, Duncan, your prayer has done us all good."

l)rN( AX Camkron,
Manager Merchants' Bank of Halifax,
Ai)ril 3, 1897. Maitland, N.S.

A REMARKABLE COINCIDEN'CE, RELATED BY THE REV. WM. KETTLEWELL, OF THE

HAMILTON' CONKEKKXCE, ONTARIO.

On the iith of March, 1893, ^ preached to my evening congregation from
Luke 15: 10: "There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one
sinner that repenteth."

In the course of the sermon I was led to remark that as the joy is in the

I !

ill

lut

l<i:\. \VM. KKTTLKWKI.I.

lie

',i . ■ I

.^.V^o.

.S^>..

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0 ^

1.1

i^|2|8 125

2.2

136

S 144 i

L25 i 1.4

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

^;<^'^^

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

189

presence of the angels, it is likely that departed friends participate in it. On the
impulse of the moment, I instanced how, for many years, my mother had prayed
for the conversion of my brother, and had died without realizing an answer to
her prayers. I said: " If my sainted mother were to see the son of many prayers
prostrated before God and seeking salvation, would she not rejoice more than the
angels ? "

At this moment, a very vivid picture of my brother seeking salvation was
presented to my mind, with an intense conviction that his salvation was assured.
A few days afterward I received from Memphis, where my brother resides, a
letter, in which he said : " Mother's prayers and yours are at last answered. For
years I have habitually neglected church, but I was led to attend service on
Sunday evening, and found salvation."

I may say that since then his wife and most of his children have become
Christians, and he is an earnest worker, anxious to make up for lost years.

AN APPARITION.

The following strange story is from the pen of Wm. Jay Groo, Ex-Judge
and Couniieilor-at-Luv/, of New York city:

Last winter I ^pent several evenings with a distinguished Justice of the
Supreme Court of che State of New York, in his library. He has since died, and
I do not mention his name in this connection, because it might not be agreeable
to his family.

On one of the occasions to which reference is above made, I told the Judge
my experience in seeing the form of mother when she was not, at least in body,
actually present, and then he related to me this most wonderful story : He said
that when he was quite a young man and was reading law in one of the New
England States, he boarded with a family to whom he became much attached-
They had treated him with great kindness, and especially so on an occasion when
he was very ill; that these friendly relations had continuedduring the many years
that he had resided elsewhere than in his native state — first, as an officer in the
Union Army ; second, in the practice of law in one of the largest cities of this
state; and, lastly, as a judge upon the bench. That onone occasion he was
coming down the Hudson River from Albany in a night boat, being the sole
occupant of a stateroom. 1 iiat, sometime in the night, he awoke and saw the
form of the lady robed in white with whom he had boarded when reading law.
That she was standing near his berth, and said to him : "I have just died, and
thought I would come and tell you." She then disappeared; whereupon he
arose, procured a light, and made a note of the occurrence and of the exact time.
That soon after reaching home that day a telegram was received, announcing the

I90

(iUMl'SES OK rHK UNSIiKN.

death of thvj lady, and that subsequently he ascertained that it had occurred at
the exact time that she had appeared to him on the boat.

Dated at Middletown, Orange County, N. Y., January 26th, 1897.

William J. Groo.

A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE.
I'ly the same author.

I was born and reared on :i farm in the town of Neversink, Sullivan County,
N.Y. The house and barn were situated about thirty rods apart in a meadow,
and in full view of each other. The front of the barn was toward the east and
toward the house. At the south end of the barn and 'attached to it was tiie
"hay-house," the upper part or loft being used for storing hay, and the under
part as a shelter for cattle. In the back or westerly side of this part of the hay-
house was a lar^e openinj^, about twelve feet wide and about eight feet hi<i;h, for
teams with loads to pass in and out of the barn-yard, which also opened throujijh
a bar-way toward the east. The hay-house was new, and the door for the
twelve-by-eight-feet opening to the west had not been hung, and a few narrow
strips of boards had been nailed across this opening to prevent stock from escap-
ing from the barn-yard in that direction.

One day, when I was about eight years old, my brother, Isaac, four years
my senior, and I were playing under this hay-house, when we saw our mother
walk from south to north the whole of this twelve feet that I have mentioned,
there being nothing between her and us to obstruct the view except the narrow
strips of board. Not doubting for a moment that she was there in her own
proper person, and believing that she had gone to the rear of the barn (the side
most remote from the house) to surprise us by her sudden presence there, we at
once ran out of the barn-yard through the bar-way toward the east, my brother
going around the northerly side of the barn and I the southerly side, until we
met in the rear of the barn and hay-house. Mother was not there, and nowhere
to be seen. We were astonished beyond measure. Neither of us spoke, but
immediately ran to the house, where we found mother busily engaged in
spinning. We told what we had seen at the barn, and she assured us that she
had not been out of the house since we had left it. She said but little about the
strange occurrence, but it was evident from her manner that she was worried and
somewhat apprehensive that some great disaster might soon befal the family or
some member of it. However, nothing unusual occurred, and mother survived^
at least, twenty-five years thereafter.

Wm. J. Groo.

III

\V.\1. [AV OROO.

se^

fal

be!

hoi

ur^

noi

in I

the

dyi

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS

193

A REMARKABLE ACCOUNT OF APPARITIONS, FROM THE JOURNAL OF THE REV. JOHN
WESLEY, THE VENERATED FOUNDER OF METHODISM.

" 25th May, 1768. — Being at Sunderland, I took down, from one who had
feared God from her infancy, one of the strongest accounts I ever read ; and yet
I can find no pretence to disbelieve it. The well-known character of the person
excludes all suspicion of fraud, and the nature of the circumstances themselves
excludes the possibility of a delusion.

It is true there are several of them ? do not comprehend ; but this is,
with me, a very slender objection ; for what is it which I do comprehend, even
of things which I see daily ? Truly not ' the smallest grain of sand or spire of
grass.' I know not \ dw the one grows, nor how the particles of the other adhere
together. What pretence have I, then, to deny well-attested facts because I
cannot comprehend them ?

It is true, likewise, that the English in general, and indeed most of the
men of learning in Europe, have given up all accounts of witches and apparitions
as mere old wives' fables. I am sorry for it ; and I willingly take this opportun-
ity of entering my solemn protest against this violent compliment, which so
many that believe the Bible pay to those who do not believe it. I owe them no
such service. I take knowledge that these are at the bottom of the outcry which
has been raised, and with such insolence spread throughout the nation, in direct
opposition, not only to the Bible, but to the suffrages of the wisest and best of
men in all ages and nations. They well know (whether Christians know it or
not) that the giving up of witchcraft* is in effect giving up the Bible ; and they
know, on the other hand, that if but one account of the intercourse of men with
separate spirits be admitted^ their whole castle in the air {deism, atheism, materialism)
falls to the ground. I know no reason, therefore, why we should suffer even this
weapon to be wrested out of our hands. Indeed, there are numerous arguments
besides which abundantly confute their vain imaginations, but we need not be
hooted out of one ; neither reason nor religion requires this.

One of the capital objections to all these accounts, which I have known
urged over and over, is this : ' Did you ever see an apparition yourself ? ' No,
nor did I ever see a murder, yet I believe there is such a thing ; yea, and that,
in one place or another, murder is committed every day. Therefore, I cannot,
as a reasonable man, deny the fact, although I never saw it, and perhaps never
may. The testimony of unexceptionable witnesses fully convinces me of both
the one and the other.

Elizabeth Hobson was born in Sunderland in the year 1744. Her father
dying when she was three or four years old, her uncle, Thomas Rea, a pious
man, brought her up as his own daughter. She was serious from a child, and

*The operation of malignant or infernal influence.

194

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

grew up in the fear of God. Yet she had deep and sharp convictions of gin till
she was about sixteen years of age, when she found peace with God, and from
that time the whole tenor of her behavior was suitable to her profession.

On Wednesday, May 25th, 1768, and the three following days, I talked
with her at large ; but it was with great difficulty I prevailed on her to speak.
The substance of what she said was as follows :

• From my childhood, when any of our neighbors died, whether men,
women or children, I used to see them, either just when they died, or a little
before ; nor was I at all afraid, it was so common. Indeed, many times I did
not then know they were dead. I saw many of them by day, many by night.
Those that came when it was dark brought light with them. I observed that
little children and many grown persons had a bright, glorious light around them ;
but many had a gloomy, dismal light and a dusky cloud over them.

When I told my uncle this, he did not seem to be at all surprised at it,
but several times said : ' Be not afraid; only take care to fear and serve God. As
Jong as He is on your side, none will be able to hurt you.' At other times, he
said — dropping a word now and then, but seldom answering me any questions
about it — * Evil spirits very seldom appear but between eleven at night and two
in the morning ; but after they have appeared to the person a year, they
frequ intiy come in the daytime. Whatever spirits, good or bad, come in the
day, they come at sunrise, at noon and at sunset.'

When I was between twelve and thirteen, my uncle had a lodger, who
was a very wicked man. One night I was sitting in my cliamber, about half an
hour after ten, having by accident put out my candle, when he came in all over
in a flame. I cried out : ' William, why do you come in so to fright me ? * He
said nothing, but went away. I went after him into his room, but found he was
fast asleep in bed. A day or two after, he fell ill, and within the week died in
raging despair.

I was between fourteen and fifteen, when I went very early one morning
to fetch up the kine. I had two fields to cross into a low ground, which was said
to be haunted. Many persons had been frightened there, and I had myself
often seen men and women (so many, at times, that they were out of count) go
just by me and vanish away. This morning, as I came toward it, 1 heard aeon-
fused noise, as of many people quarrelling ; but I did not mind it, and went on
till I came near the gate. I then saw on the other side a young man, dressed in
purple, who said : ' It is too early ; go back whence you came, and the Lord be
with you and bless you ; ' and presently he was gone.

When I was about sixteen, my uncle fell ill, and grew worse and worse for
three months. One day, having been sent out on an errand, I was coming home
through a lane, when I saw him in the field coming swiftly toward me. I ran to
meet him, but he was gone. When I came home, I found him calling for me.

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

«95

fning
said

rself

I) g"
Icon-
it on
Id in
be

for
lome
In to

me.

As soon as I came to his bedside, he clasped his arms round my neck and, burst-
ing into tears, earnestly exhorted me to continue in the ways of (iod, kept his
hold till he sunk down and died; and even then they could hardly unclasp his
fingers. I would fain have died with him, and wished to be buried with him,
dead or alive.

From that time I was crying from morning till night, and praying that I
might see him. I grew weaker and weaker, till one morning, about one o'clock^
as I was lying, crying as usual, I heard some noise, and, rising up, saw him come
to the bedside. He looked much displeased, shook his head at me, and in a
minute or two went away.

About a week after, I took to my bed, and grew worse and worse till in
six or seven days my life was despaired of. Then, about eleven at night, my
uncle came in, looked well pleased and sat down on the bedside. He came
every night after at the same hour, and stayed till cock-crowing. I was exceed-
ing glad, and kept my eyes fixed on him all the time he stayed. If I wanted
drink or anything, though I did not speak or stir, he fetched it and set it on the
chair by the bedside. Indeed, I could not speak. Many times I strove, but
could not move my tongue. Every morning when he went away he waved his
hand to me, and I heard delightful music, as if many persons were singing
together.

In about six weeks I grew better. I was then musing one night whether
I did well in desiring he might come, and I was praying that God would do His
own will, when he came in and stood by the bedside. But he was not in his
usual dress; he had on a white robe, which reached down to his feet. He looked
quite well pleased. About one, there stood by him a person in white, taller than
he, and exceedingly beautiful. He came with the singing as of many voices,
and continued till near cock-crowing. Then my uncle smiled and waved his
hand toward me twice or thrice. They went away with inexpressibly sweet
music, and I saw him no more.

In a year after this, a young man courted me and in some months we
agreed to be married. But he purposed to take another voyage first, and one
evening went on board his ship. About eleven o'clock, going out to look for
my mother, I saw him standing at his mother's door, with his hands in his
pockets and his hat pulled over his eyes. I went to him and stretched out my
hand to put up his hat, but he went swiftly by me and I saw the wall, on the
other side of the lar\e, part as he went through and then immediately close after
him. At ten the next morning he died.

A few days after, John Simpson, one of our neighbors — a man that truly
feared God and one with whom I was particularly acquainted — went to sea as
usual. He sailed out on a Tuesday. The Friday night following, between
eleven and twelve o'clock, I heard one walking in my room, and every step

196

GLIMl'SKS OF TIIK UNSEKN.

sounded as if he was steppinf^ in water. He then came to the bedside in his
sea-jacket, all wet, and stretched his hand over me. Three drops of water fell
on my breast, and felt as cold as ice. I strove to awake his wife, who lay with
me, but I could not, any more than if she was dead. Afterward I heard that he
was cast away that night. In less than a minute he went away, but he came to
me every night for six or seven nights following, between eleven and two. Before
he came, and when he went away, I always heard sweet music. Afterward he
came both day and night — every night about twelve, with the music at his com-
ing and going ; and every day at sunrise, noon and sunset. He came — whatever
company I was in — at church, in the preaching-house, at my class ; and was
always just before me, changing his posture as I changed mine. When I sat, he
sat ; when I kneeled, he kneeled ; when I stood, he stood likewise. I would fain
have spoken to him, but I could not ; when I tried, my heart sunk within me.
Meantime it affected me more and more, so that I lost my appetitj, my color
and my strength. This continued ten weeks, while I pined away, not daring to
tell anyone. At last he came four or five nights without any music, and looked
exceeding sad. On the fifth night, he drew the curtains of the bed violently to
and fro, still looking wistfully at me, and as one quite distressed. This he did
two nights ; on the third I lay down, about eleven, on the side of the bed. I
quickly saw him walking up and down the room. Being resolved to speak to
him, but unwilling any should hear, I rose and went up into the garret. When
I opened the door, I saw him walking toward me, and shrunk back, on which he
stopped and stood at a distance. I said : ' In the name of the Father, Son and
Holy Ghost, what is your business with me ? ' He answered : ' Betsy, God for-
give you for keeping me so long from my rest ! Have you forgot what you
promised before I went to sea — to look to my children if I was drowned ? You
must stand to your word, or I cannot rest.' I said : * I wish I was dead.' He
said : * Say not so ; you have more to go through before then, and yet if you knew
as much as I do, you would not care how soon you died. You may bring the
children on in their learning while they live ; they have but a short time.' I
said : ' I will take all the care I can.' He added : ' Your brother has written for
you to come to Jamaica, but if you go it will hurt your soul. Y'ou have also
thoughts of altering your condition, but if you marry him you think of, it wilj
draw you from God, and you will neither be happy here nor hereafter. Keep
close to God, and go on in the way where' n you have been brought up.' I asked,
'How do you spend your time?' He answered: 'In songs of praise. But of
this you will know more by-and-by, for where I am you will surely be. I have
lost much happiness in coming to you, and I should not have stayed so long
without using other means to make you speak, but the Lord would not suffer me
to fright you. Have you anything more to say ? It draws near two, and after
that I cannot stay. I shall come to you twice more before the death of my two

AIM'AkiriONS AND VISIONS.

197

»ng

children. God bless you ! ' Immediately I heard such siii^iii}.,' as if a thou-
sand voices joined together, lie then went down stairs, and I followed him to
the first landing. He smiled, and I said: * I desire you will come l)a( U.' He
stood still till I came to him. I asked him one or two cjuestions which he
immediately answered, but added : ' I wish )ou had not called me back, for now
1 must take somethinfj; from you.' He jiaused a little, and said : ' I think you
can best part with the hearinj; of your left ear.' He laid his hand upon it, and
in the instant it was as deaf as a stone, and it was several years before I recovered
the least hearing of it. The cock crowed as he went out of the door, and then
the music ceased. The elder of his children died at about three and a half, the
the younger before he was five years old. He apjieared before the death ot
each, but without speaking. After that I saw him no more.

A little before Michaelmas, 1763, my brother (ieorge, who was a good
young man, went to sea. The day after Michaelmas day, about midnight, I saw
him standing by my bedside, surrounded with a glorious light, and looking earn-
estly at me. He was wet all over. That night, the ship in which he sailed split
upon a rock, and all the crew were drowned.

On April gth, 1767, about midnight, I was lying awake and saw my
brother John standmg by my bedside. Just at that time he died in Jamaica.

By his death I became entitled to a house in Sunderland, which was leu
us by my grandf.ither, John Hobson, an exceeding wicked man, who was drowned
fourteen years ago. I employed an attorney to recover it from my aunt, who
kept possession of it ; but, finding more difficulty than I expected, in the begin-
ning of December I gave it up. Three or four nights after, as I rose up from
prayer, a little before eleven, I saw him standing at a small distance. I cried
out : • Lord bless me ! what brings you here ? ' He answered : ' You have
given up the house : Mr. Parker advised you so to do ; but if you do, I shall
have no rest. Indeed, Mr. Dunn, whom you have employed, will do nothing
for you. Go to Durham ; employ an attorney there, and it will be recovered.'
His voice was loud and so hollow and deep, that every word went through me.
His lips did not move at all, nor his eyes, but the sound seemed to rise out of
the floor. When he had done speaking, he turned about and walked out of the
room.

In January, as I was sitting on the bedside, a quarter before twelve, he
came in, stood before me, looked earnestly at me, then walked up and down and
stood and looked again. This he did for half an hour, and thus he came every
other night for about three weeks. All this time he seemed angry, and some-
times his look was quite horrid and furious. One night I was sitting up in bed
crying, when he came and began to pull off the clothes. I strove to touch his
hand, but could not, on which he shrunk back and smiled.

The next night but one, about twelve, I was again sitting up and crying,

198

GI.IMl'SKS OK 1 UK UNSKRN.

wlicn lie came and stood at tlic bedside. As I was lookinj; for a handkcrcliicf,
he walked to the table, took one up, brouj,'ht and dropped it upon the bed.
After this he came three or four nij^hts, and pulled the clothes ofT, throwing them
on the other sitle of the bed.

Two nij;hts after, he came as I was sittint; on the bedside, and after
walking; to and fro, snatched the handki.'rchief from my neek. I fell into a swoon.
When I c.ime to myself, he was standiii}; just before me ; presently lie came
close to me, dropped it on the bed and went away.

Having h.ul a lonj^ illness the year before, havinj^ taken much cold by
his frecjuent j)ullin<; off the clothes, and bein}; worn out by these appearances, I
was now mostly conlined to my bed. The; next ni^ht, soon after eleven, became
again. I asked : ' In God's name, why do you torment me thus ? You know it
is impossible for me to j^o to Durham now. Ikit I have a fear that you are not
happy, and bej; to know whether you are or not ."* ' He answered, after a little
pause : ' That is a bold ciuestion (or you to ask. So far as you knew me to do
amiss in my lifetime, do you take care to do better.' I said : ' It is a shocking
affair to live and die after that manner.' lie replied: 'It is no time for
reHection now ; what is done cannot be undone.' I said: ' It must be a great
happiness to die in the Lord.' He said : ' Hold your tongue ! hold your
tongue ! At your peril, never mention such a word before me again.' I was
frightened, and strove to lift up my heart to God. He gave a shriek and sunk
down three times, with a loud groan at each time. Just as he disappeared,
there was a large flash of fire, and I fainted away.

Three days after, I went to Durham, and put the affair into the hands of
Mr. Hugill, the attorney. The next night, about one, he came in ; but, on my
taking up the Bible, he went away. A month after, he came about eleven. I
said: ' Lord bless me ! what has brought you here again?' He said: 'Mr.
Hugill has done nothing but wrote one letter : you must write, or go to Durham
again. It may be decided in a few days.' I said : ' Why do you not go to my
aunts who keep me out of it ? ' He answered : ' I have no power to go to them and
they cannot bear it. If I could, I would go to them, were it only to warn them ;
for I doubt where I am I shall get too many to bear me company.' He added :
' Take care ! there is mischief laid in Peggy's (her aunt's) hand ; she will strive
to meet you coming from the class. I do not speak to hinder you from going to
it, but that you may be cautious. Let some one go with you and come back
with you, though whether you will escape or not I cannot tell.' I said: 'She
can do no more than God will let her.' He answered : ' We have all too little
to do with Him : mention that word no more. As soon as this is decided, meet
me at Boyldon Hill (about half a mile from the town) between twelve and one at
night.' I said : ' That is a lone place for a woman to go at that time of night.
I am willing to meet you at the Ballast Hills or in the churchyard.' He said :

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

199

• Tliiit will not do; hut what arc you afraid of?' I answered: *I am not
afraid of you, but of rude men.' lie ^aid : ' 1 will set you safe, both thither and
back a},Min.' 1 asked : ' May I not brinj^ a minister witl> me?' He repMed :
' Are you thercsiliouts ? I will not be .seen by any but you. You have pla<^ued
me sore enough .already : if )()U brinj^ anyone with you, take what folh)Ws.'

l''rot\i this time he appeared every night between eleven and two. If I
put out the lire; and candle, in hojies I should not see; him, it did not avail ; for as
soon as he came, all the room was lif^ht, but with a dism..i lij^ht, like that of
flaming brimstone; but whenever I took up the Bible or kneeled down — yea, or
prayed in my heart — \\c was gone.

On Thursday, May 12, he came about eleven, as i was sitting by the fire.
1 asked: * In God's name, what do you want?' He said: 'You must cither
go or write to Durham : I cannot stay from you till this is decided, and I cannot
stay where I am.' When he went away, I fell into a violent passion of crying,
seeing no end to my trouble. In this agony I continued till after one, and then
fell into a (it. About two o'clock I came to myself, and saw, standing at the
bedside, one in a white robe which reached down to his feet. I cried : ' In the
name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.' He said: 'The Lord is with you;
1 am come to comfort you. What cause have you to complain and murmur
thus for your friends? Fray for them and leave them to God. Arise and pray.*
I said : ' I can pray none.' He said : ' But God will help you ; only keep close
to God. You are backward, likewise, in praying with others, and afraid to
receive the Lord's supper : break through that backwardness and that fear. The
Lord bless you and be ever with you I' As he went away, I heard many voices
singing hallelujah with such melody as I never heard before. All my trouble
was gone and I wanted nothing but to fly away with them.

Saturday, 28th. — .\t)out twelve, my grandfather stood at my bedside.
I said : 'In God's name, what do you want?' He said : 'You do not make
an end of this thing ; get it decided as soon as possible. My coming is as uneasy
to myself as it can be to you.' Before he came there was a strong smell of
burning, and the room was full of smoke, which got into my eyes and almost
blinded me for some time after.

Wednesday, 21st June. — About sunset, I was coming up stairs at Mr.
Knot's, and I saw him coming toward me out of the opposite n;' m. He went
close by me on the stair-head. Before I saw him, I smelt a strong smell of
burning, and so did Miss Hasmer. It got into my throat and almost stifled me.
I sat down and fainted away.

On Friday, July 3id, I was sitting at dinner, when I thought I heard one
come along the passage. I looked about and saw my aunt, Margaret Scot, of
Newcastle, standing at my back. On Saturday, I had a letter informing me
that she died on that day.'

too

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Thus far Elizabeth Hobson.

On Sunday, July loth, I received the following letter from a friend, to
whom I had recommended her :

Sunderland, 6th July, 1768.

• I wrote you word before that Elizabeth Hobson was put into possession
of the house. The same night, her old visitant, who had not troubled her for
some time, came -again and said : ' You must meet meat Boyldon Hill on Thurs-
day night, a little before twelve. You will see many appearances, who will call
you to come to them ; but do not stir, neither give them any answer. A quarter
before twelve I shall come and call you, but still do not answer nor stir.' She
said: ' It is a hardship upon me for you to desire me to meet you there. Why
cannot you take your leave now ? ' He answered : ' It is for your good that 1
desire it. I can take my leave of you now; but if I do, I must take something
from you, which you would not like to part with.' She said : ' May not a few
friends come with me? ' He said : ' They may, but they must not be present
when I come.'

That night, twelve of us met at Mr. Davison's (about a quarter of a mile
from the hill), and spent soine time in p ayer. (iod was with us of a truth.
Then six of us went with her to the place, leaving the rest to pray for us. We
came thither a little before twelve, and then stood at a small distance from her.
It being a fine night, we kept her in our sight, and spent the time in prayer. She
stood there till a few minutes after one. When we saw her move, we went to
meet her. She said : ' Thank God, it is all over and done ! I found everything
as he told me. I saw many appearances, who called me to them, but I did not
answer nor stir. Then he came and called me at a distance, but I took no
notice. Soon after he came up to me and said : ' You are come well fortified.'
He then gave her the reasons wh}' he requested her to meet him at that place,
and why he could take his leave there, and not in the house, without taking
something from her. But withal, he charged her to tell this to no one, adding:
* If you disclose this to any creature, I shall be under the necessity of troubling
you as long as you live ; if you do not, I shall never trouble you nor sec you any
more, either in time or eternity.' He then bade her farewell, waved his hand
and disappeared.

THE APPARITION OF A PERSON STILL IN THE FLESH.

By the Baron Von Suiza.

The following account of a remarkable apparition is given under the signa-
ture of Baron Von Suiza, Chamberlain to the King of Sweden, under date of
December 4th, 181 2, at Soderkoping :

" I had been paying a visit to one of my neighbors, on the 24th June, 1799,
and returned home about midnight, at which time it is so light in Sweden, in the

I"'

I''

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

20I

summer season, that one can see to read the smallest print. On arriving^ at our
estate of Dicnstdorp, my father met me before the gate of the courtyard, in his
customary clotiies, with a stick in his hand, which my brother had ornamented
with carved work. It was very h'ght, and I saw everything clearly ; I was not
afraid, for I really believed it was my father. I saluted him, and conversed a
long time with him. We then went together into the house, and upon the level
rioor into the room ; on entering which, I saw my father ijuite undressed, lying
in bed in a profound sleep, and the apparition had disappeared. He soon awoke
and re yarded me with an inquiring look. ' j\Iy dear Edward,' said he, ' God be
thanked that I see you again, for I was much troubled on your account in a
dream ; for it seemed to me that you had fallen into the water, and were in
danger of drowning.' I was greatly astonished at hnding my father asleep in
bed, and regarded the apparition as a forerunner of his approaching death; but he
lived three years after this event. I now told him what had happened to me —
that he had appeared to me, and that I had spoken with him on several subjects :
on which he replied that this had often occurred to him. It is also remarkable,
that, having gone to the river the same day with the friend whom I was visiting,
in order to catch crabs, I was really in danger of falling into the stream.

1 testify, upon my soul, that all this is truth ; and if you publish this
account, let it be done in my name, for I am not ashamed of confessing the
truth. I know of many occurrences connected with the world of spirits, which
are so certainly proved that they cannot be doubted of; and if it will give you
pleasure, I will relate them to you. We will leave freethinkers to laugh and
the superstitious to be terrified ; but we know that it is very useful to the inquirer
alter truth, and to the true Christian, to become more intimately acquainted
with the world of spirits. In former times, people believed too muc ; but at
present, in this dreadful age, everything that bears the name of faith is ex-
tinguished," etc.

' If any one should suppose,* continues Stilling, from whose work on
pneumatology the account is taken, ' that Baron Von Suiza is a follower of
Swedenborg, I can assure him that he is not : he belongs to no sect or party,
and is nothing more than a pious and orthodox Lutheran.'

THE STRANGE STORY OF MR. ALFRED WALLACE, CONCERNING THE YOUNG LADY WHO
CAN CAUSE A SEMBLANCE OF HERSELF TO APPEAR IN ONE ROOM WHILE

SHE IS BOUND IN ANOTHER.

The most earnest defender of modern Spiritualism, Mr. Alfred Wallace,
reports anovel kindofapparition in the Fortnightly Review for May, 1874. It seems
that a young lady medium has the power of sending a semblance of herself into
one room while she is bound hand and foot in another. The pleasing peculiar-
ity of this apparition is that it is no mere shadow, like the mother of Odysseus,

ao3

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

whom he could not embrace in Plades. Mr. Crookes, a Fellow of the Royal
Society, has inspected it with a phosphorus lamp, and clasped it in his arms
within the medium's sight. In M. Gautier's romance, "Spirite," the lover was not
permitted to touch his airy mistress. Truth is indeed stranger than fiction.

Encyclopcedia Britannica.

AN INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF A VISION OF THINGS AT A DISTANCE.
By the Rev. ,. G. Garland, of South Stukely, Quebec.

I knew a man many years ago whom I will call Mr. A. He was a well-to-do
farmer, married, and had a large family of fine, healthy children. He was a large,
fleshy, good-looking man, with florid face, a hearty appetite, but a strict tem-
perance man. He was a church member in good standing and a model Christian
and neighbor. Several times I heard him tell the following story. It happened
when he was about sixteen years of age. He was in the habit of going to school
with other boys about his own age. At school, they used to spell for positions
and certain rewards, and he was kept at home to hoe potatoes on this particular
day. He was, of course, interested in the spelling, and about the hour of the
spelling, he was thinking who would win this evening. He stood up, leaning on
the handle of his hoe, and a brilliancy came about him that he had not been
accustomed to, and he saw the school, the boys that won, and everything as it
took place. Shortly after the boys came along from school and hailed him. He
astonished the boys by telling them who had won tiie prizes, etc. They thought
some one must have told him from the school. He said he often tried to have
such illumination again, and prayed earnestly for it, but it never returned to him.

AN APPARITION WHICH PRECEDED THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

The Duke of Buckingham was Prime Minister to Charles I., King of Eng-
land, whose favorite he was ; and, being looked upon as the author of the arbitrary
acts in which the king indulged, he was much hated by the people, and after-
ward lost his life in a violent manner, being stabbed with a knife by Lieutenant
Felton, in the thirty-sixth year of his age. Lord Clarendon, in his History of
the Rebellion and Civil War in England, gives the following account of an ap-
parition which preceded the death of the Duke of Buckingham :

" Among the officers of the wardrobe at Windsor was a man who was uni-
versally esteemed for his integrity and prudence, and who was, at that time,
about fifty years of age. This man had been brought up, in his youth, at a
college in Paris, where George Villiers, the father of the Duke of Buckingham,
was also educated, with whom he formed an intimate friendship, but had never
spoken with him since that period.

As this keeper of the robes was lying in his bed at Windsor, in perfect health,
seven month,') before the murder of the Duke, there appeared to him at midnight

:b~^^ '

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

to3

'»
^t

a man of venerable aspect, who drew aside the curtains of his bed, and asked
him, while looking at him ste: Ifaslly, if he did not know him. At first he made
no re^My, being half dead through fear. But on being asked the second time
whether he did not remember ever to have seen him, the recollection of George
Villiers, from the similarity of features and dress, occurred to him: he therefore
said he took him for George Villiers. The apparition replied that he was in the
right, and begged of him to do him the favor to go to his son, the Duke of
Buckingham, in his name, and tell him ' that he must exert himself to make
himself popular, or at least to soothe the embittered minds of the people, other-
wise he would not be suffered to live long.' After these words the apparition
vanished, and the good man, whether he was fully awake or not awake, slept
quietly till morning.

On awakening, he regarded the apparition as a dream, and paid no par-
ticular attention to it. A night or two afterward, the same person appeared
again, in the very same place and at the same hour, with rather a more serious
aspect than the first time, and asked him if he had executed the commission he
had given him. As the apparition knew very well that he had not done so, it
reproached him very severely, and added that it had expected greater compliance
from him, and that if he would not fulfil its i jquest, he should have no rest, but
that it would follow him everywhere.

The terrified keeper of the robes promised obedience ; but in the morning
he was still irresolute and knew not what to do. He could not bring himself to
regard this second apparition, which was so clear and obvious, as a dream ; and
yet, on the other hand, the high rank of the duke, the difficulty of obtaining
admission to his presence, and, above all, the consideration how he should make
the duke believe the thing, seemed to him to defeat the execution of his errand
and render it impossible.

He was for some days undetermined what he should do ; at length he took
the resolution to be as inactive in the matter as before. But a third and more
dreadful vision than the two former now succeeded ; the apparition reproached
him in a bitter tone with not fulfilling his promise. The keeper of the robes
confessed that he had delayed the accomplishment of that which had been im-
posed upon him on account of the difficulty of approaching the duke, as he knew
no one through whom he could hope to gain admission to him ; and even if he
found means to obtain an audience, yet the duke would not believe that he had
received such a commission ; he would look upon him as insane, or suppose that
he sought to deceive him, either from personal malice, or from being prompted
to it by designing people. In this manner his ruin would be inevitable. But
the apparition continued firm to its purpose, and said that he should have no
rest until he had complied with its desire. It also added, that admittance to
his son was easy, and that those who wished to speak with him need not wait

iil

304

("iLIMFSES OF THE UNSEEN.

long. In order, however, that he might gain credence, it would state to him
twoor three circumstances, but of which he must mention nothing to any one
except to the duke himself, who, upon hearing it, would give credit to the rest
of his story also.

The man now believed himself under the necessity of obeying this third
demand of the apparition, and therefore set off the next morning for London ;
and as he was intimately acquainted with Sir Ralph Freeman, the master of
requests, who had married a near relative of the duke's, he waited upon him,
and besought him to assist him with his influence to obtain an audience, having
matters of importance to communicate to the duke which demanded great
privacy and some time and patience.

Sir Ralph knew the prudence and modesty of the man, and concluded, from
what he had heard onl)' in general expressions, that something extraordinary
was the cause of his journey. He therefore promised compliance, and that he
would speak with the duke on the subject. He seized the first opportunity to
mention to the duke the good character of the man and his wish for an audience,
and communicated to him everything he knew of the matter. The duke gave
him, for an answer, that he was going early the following day, with the King, to
the chase, and that his horses would wait for him at ' Lambeth Bridge,' where
he intended to land at five in the morning ; and if the man would attend him
there, he might converse with him as long as was necessary.

Sir Ralpli did not fail to conduct the keeper of the robes, at the hour ap-
pointed, to tlie j)lace, and introduce him to the duke on his landing from the
vessel. The duke received him very courteously, took him aside and spoke
with him nearly a full hour. There was no one at the place but Sir Ralph and
the duke's servants ; but all of them stood at such a distance, that it was im-
possible for them to hear anything of the conversation, although they saw that
tile duke spoke frequently with much emotion. Sir Ralph Freeman, who had
his eyes constantly fixed upon the duke, observed this still better than the rest ;
and the keeper of the robes told him, on their return to London, that when the
duke heard the particular incidents which he revealed to him, in order to make
the rest of his communication credible, he changed color, and affirmed that no
one but the devil could have disclosed this to him, because none but he (the
duke) and another person knew of it, of whom he was convinced that she had
told it to no one.

The duke continued the chase. It was, however, observed that he frequently
left the company, and appeared sunk in deep thought, and took no part in the
pleasure. He left the chase the same forenoon, alighted at Whitehall, and
repaired to his mother's apartments, with whom he was closeted for two or three
hours. Their loud conversation was heard in the adjoining apartments ; and
when he came out, much disturbance, mingled with anger, was visible in his

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

«05

le
d

countenance, which had never before been observed after conversing with his
mother, for whom he always testified the greatest respect. The countess was
found in tears after the departure of her son, and plunged into the deepest grief.
So much is known and ascertained, that she did not seem surprised when she
received the news of the assassination of the duke, which followed some months
afterward. It would therefore appear that she had previously foreseen it, and
that her son had informed her of what the keeper of the robes had discovered to
him ; nor did she manifest that grief in the sequel which she must necessarily
have felt at the loss of such a beloved son."

It is privily related that the particular circumstances of which the keeper of
the robes reminded the duke had reference to a forbidden intercourse which he
had with one of his very near relatives ; and as he had every reason to suppose
that the lady herself would not speak of it, he thought that, besides herself, only
the devil could know and say anything of it.

AN ACCOUNT OF A REMARKABLE VISION.

In 1889 I was living in Montreal and was well acquainted with Mr.
Malcolm Macdonald, who then carried on a tea business on Seigneurs Street,
and who was well known as a leading member of the West End Methodist Church.
He told me the following experience of a vision which he had. It was shortly
before dawn on a certain morning. He wakened to find himself in an interview
with an unmarried brother, who for some time had been pursuing his fortune in
the State of Ohio, and another brother who resided in Toronto. He was at the
self-same time perfectly conscious of being in bed in his own home, and in his
ordinary environment, and also perfectly conscious of a real, personal interview
with his two brothers, both of whom he knew also were hundreds of miles distant
from him and from each other. In his vision he saw the interview begin by their
lovingly greeting one another, whereupon the brother from Ohio solemnly in-
formed the other two that he was dying then, and that before departing he wished
to give them certain instructions and counsel. These instructions and counsel he
gave, but they need not here be related ; only let me state that they were truly
wise and truly appropriate, and, as the surviving brothers found out afterwards,
they were to them of great value. The interview finished with a tender farewell,
and the vision ended.

Malcolm at once informed his wife of what he had just experienced, and he
prepared himself for news from Ohio. Sure enough, early in that forenoon, a
telegram arrived containing the announcement of the death of the brother in
Ohio. Malcolm at once arranged by wire with the brother in Toronto to meet
him and proceed together to look after the remains. As soon as they met, the
Toronto brother said: "Malcolm, I had a wonderful vision this morning."
Malcolm, feeling surprised, asked him what it was, but he was much more sur-

liH

;!iii

1 |II||lilH|

IIRfl

IIHM;

W-

1 n

1 IMI

nil

•o6

GLIMPSKS OF THE UNSKEN.

prised when his brother went on to give what was a perfect description of tiie
vision he himself also had at Montreal, and at the very same time.

They reached the home of strangers in Ohio, where lay the remains of the
dead brother. Kind friends had watched by him during his last hours, and they
informed the men from Canada how, for a time ere he breathed his last, he
seemed to be in a trance, at the commencement of which he spoke out distinctly,
as if giving a loving greeting to two brothers. Then he said to them many
things as to family matters, and matters of eternity, which the watchers related
so faithfully as to be recognized by the two brothers as a perfect account of their
respective visions in Montreal and Toronto.

Duncan Cameron,
Manager Merchants' Bank of Halifax,

i6 March, 1897. Maitland, N.S.

A GREEK VISION OF THE WORLD OF SPIRITS.

Plutarch, in his works, has preserved a most remarkable vision of the world
of spirits, which may tend, in some measure, to illustrate the ideas which the
ancient Greeks formed of it. It is as follows :

"Thespesios, of Soli, lived at first very prodigally and profligately; but
afterward, when he had spent all his property, necessity induced him to have re-
course to the basest methods for a subsistence. There was nothing, however vile,
which he abstained from, if it only brought him in money, and thus he again
amassed a considerable sum, but fell at the same time into the worst repute for
his villany. That which contributed the most to this was a prediction of the god
Amphilochus, for, having applied to this deity to know whether he would spend
the rest of his life in a better manner, he received for answer, ' that he would
never mend till he died.' And so it really happened, in a certain sense, for not
long afterward he fell down from an eminence upon his neck ; though he received
no wound, yet he died in consequence of the fall. But three days afterward,
when he was about to be interred, he received strength and came to himself. A
wonderful change now took place in his conduct, for the Cilicians know no one
who at that time was more conscientious in business, devout toward God, terrible
to his foes, or faithful to his friends ; so that those who associated with him
wished to learn the cause of this change, justly supposing that such an alter-
ation of conduct, from the greatest baseness to sentiments so noble, could not
have come of itself. And so it really was, as he himself related to Protogenus,
and other judicious friends.

When his rational soul left the body, he felt like a pilot hurled out of his
vessel into the depths of the sea. He then raised himself up, and his whole
being seemed on a sudden to breathe, and to look about it on every side, as if
the soul had been all eye. He saw nothing of the previous objects ; but beheld

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

207

the enormous stars at an immense distance from each other, endowed with ad-
mirable radiance, and utterin<j; wonderful sounds ; while his soul glided gently
and easily along, borne by a stream of light, in every direction. In his narrative
he passed over what he saw besides, and merely said that he perceived the souls
of those that were just departed rising up from the earth ; they formed a lumin-
ous kind of bubble, and when this burst, the soul placidly came forth, glorious,
and in human form. The souls, however, had not all the same motion ; some
soared upward with wonderful ease, and instantaneously ascended to the heights
above; others whirled about like spindles, sometimes rising upward, and some-
times sinking downward, having a mixed and disturbed motion. He was unac-
quainted with the most of them, but recognized two or three of his relatives.

lis

)le

Others, again, appeared in the heights above, shining brilliantly, and affec-
tionately uniting with each other, but fleeing the restless souls above described.
In this place he also saw the soul of another of his relatives, but not very per-
ceptibly, for it had died while a child. The latter, however, approaching him,
said : * Welcome, Thespesios 1 ' On his answering that his name was not
Thespesios, but Aridaios, it replied : ' It is true, thou didst formerly bear that
name, but henceforth thou art called Thespesios. Thou art, however, not yet
dead, but by a particular providence of the gods art come hither in thy rational
spirit ; but thou hast left the other soul behind, as an anchor in the body. At
present, and in future, be it a sign by which thou mayest distinguish thyself from
those that are really dead, that the souls of the deceased no longer cast a shadow,
and are able to look steadfastly at the light above without being dazzled.' On
this, the soul in question conducted Thespesios through all parts of the other
■world, and explained to him the mysterious dealings and government of Divine
Justice ; why many are punished in this life, while others are not ; and showed
him also every species of punishment to which the wicked are subject hereafter.
He viewed everything with holy awe, and after having beheld all this as a spec-
tator, he was at length seized with dreadful horror when on the point of depart-
ing, for a female form of wondrous size and appearance laid hold of him just as
he was going to hasten away, and said : ' Come hither, in order that thou
mayest the better remember everything ! ' And with that she drew forth a
burning rod, such as the painters use, when another hindered her, and delivered
him, while he, as if suddenly impelled forward by a violent gale of wind, sank
back at once into his body, and came to life again at the place of interment."

The narrative related above, gives us an example of a volunfary detachment
of the soul from the body ; but the instance we are now about to subjoin is one
of an involuntary detachment, and therefore the more surprising.

208

GLIMl'SES OK THI-: UNSICKN.

VISIONS OF ST. TIiriKESA, LUTHER, ZUINGLIUS, SVVEDENBORG AND
LORD HERBERT OF CHERBURY.

The following accounts are taken by permission from the able work of
the Kcv. Dr. Buckley on *' Faith Healing, Christian Science and Kindred
Phenomena" :

The visions of St. Theresa have, for three hundred years, formed an inter-
esting chapter in religious literature, and another in pathology. At twelve she
was devoutly pious, becoming so after the death of her mother. About the age
of fifteen she fell off into a very worldly state, and against her will was placed by
her father in a convent. She was frequently ill, and finally, after a year and a half,
owing to a dangerous sickness, returned home. Sometime afterward she was seized
with a violent fever, and upon recovery determined to devote herself to a relig-
ious life, and, in opposition to her father's wishes, entered a Carmelite convent and
took the veil. This was in her twentieth year. Her biographer, as translated
by Dr. Madden, says that she was attacked " with frequent fits of fainting and
swooning and a violent pain at her heart, which sometimes deprived her of her
senses." Her first trance was in 1537, in her twenty-third year; it lasted for
four days, and during it, through excess of pain, she bit her tongue in many
places — a phenomenon common to fits of various kinds. At last she was reduc-
ed almost to a skeleton, had a paralytic affection of her limbs and remained a
cripple for three years. Her first vision was thrive years later, when she had
allowed herself some dissipation of mind. ** The apparition of our Lord was
suddenly presented to the eyes of her soul, with a rigorous aspect testifying to
the displeasure occasioned by her conduct."

There were great differences of opinion as to the source of her visions.
Several very learned priests and confessors judged her to be deluded by the
devil. One of them instructed her to make the sign of the cross, and to insult
the vision as that of a fiend. In one of her visions, according to her statement,
the Lord appeared angry at her instructions, and bade her tell them it was
tyranny. She acknowledged that she frequently saw devils in hideous figures,
but she drove them away by the cross or by holy water. She also claimed to
see St. Joseph, the blessed Virgin and other saints ; had visions of purgatory,
and saw a great number of souls in heaven who had been there.

There is no difficulty in explaining her visions on natural principles. She
was a religious woman, in such a state of health as to be subject to trances, and
they took their character from her conventual and other religious instruction.
Visions of this kind have been common in the excitable of all sects. The early
Methodists had many of them, which Mr. Wesley could not understand ; and he
expelled some persons from the society because they persisted against his com-
mands in narrating visions which even he could not accept as of divine origin.

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

ao9

ind
>n.
Irly
]he
|m-

L.uther suffered from hallucinations of a relif^ious character for a considerable
pciiod of his life. The opposition he encountered and his sedentary life, taken
in connection with the extraordinary powers attributed to Satan in the middle
ages, fully explain his visions. Luther thought that the devil removed a baj; of
nuts, transformed himself into a fly, hung on his neck, and lay with him in bed.
His visions would sometimes come on after nightmares. This is his own account :
" I awoke in the middle of the night. Satan appeared to me. I was seized with
horror. I sweated and trembled. My heart beat in a frightful manner. The
devil conversed with me. His logic was accompanied by a voice so alarming
that the blood froze in my veins."

Zuinglius had a similar experience when he was half asleep. A phantom,
black or white, he could not say which, appeared before him, called him a coward
and stirred him up to fight. This is explained by Forbes Winslowas a case of
overheated sensorium, '* during the transient continuance of which the retina
became so disturbed as to conjure up a phantom which the patient not only
mistook for a reality, but, what is still worse, acted upon his mistaken or diseased
imagination."

Swedenborg's visions were of the same class. He was educated, devoted
himself for many years to science, and up to his fifty-fourth year had the reputa-
tion of a scientific and philosophic student; was a professor in the mineralogical
school, and believed to be a simple-minded man of the world. About 1 743 he
had a violent fever, in which for a little time he was mad, and rushed from the
house stark naked, proclaiming himself the Messiah. After that period a change
took place in him, and he lived twenty-nine years in the firm conviction that he
held continual intercourse with angels and also with deceased human beings.
He says that he conversed with St. Paul during the whole year, particularly in
reference to the text Romans iii. 28. He asserted that he had conversed three
times with St. John, once with Moses, a hundred times with Luther, and with
angels daily "for twenty years."

Swedenborg had an elevated style of thought, and when reasoning upon the
fundamental principle which underlies his theological views, he is acute and pro-
found. Attention has frequently been called to his shrewdness in explaining
why, when he claimed to hear the voices of angels, those who stood by could
not, by his declaring that he was accustomed to see and hear angels when per-
fectly wide awake, and adding: " The speech of an angel or of a spirit sounds
like and as loud as that of a man, but it is not heard by the bystanders. The
reason is that the speech of an angel, or of a spirit, finds entrance first into a
man's thoughts, and reaches his organs of hearing from within." It is necessary
only to read his literal statements to perceive the subjective character of tlie
visions. He gives detailed accounts of the habits, form and dress of the angels.
He sends his opponents mostly to Gehenna and sees them there. The chief rep-

■iiiiiii
III

tio

GLIMl'SES OF rilli UNSKKV.

resentatives of the reformed churches ijo to heaven, Ijut Catholics and ^ome ol
his Protestant oj)|)on(Mits he sees in vision elsewhere.

Visions and hallucinations of men of this class are (juoted aj^ainst each other
in the ecclesiastical conllicts of the middle aj^es, and, more lately, as proofs o( the
doctrines held by them. Hut as pro )fs they are mutually destructive, exist in
all relij^ions, true or false, and are liable to occur apart from relif^ion. In the
revivals which occurred in the early i)art of this century in the United States,
an(i which sometimes take place now, visions are not infniiucntly connected
with reIifi[ious experience. When men pray without attendin<.( to the necessary
cares of the body, days and weeks too;ether, the result is faintinj^s and trances,
accompanied by visions. Where they are believed to be of divine origin they
produce profound impressions, but there is no reason to think their cause differ-
ent from those already discussed, nor have unbelievers in Christianity always
escaped them.

The autobiography of Lord Herbert of Cherbury relates a remarkable vision,
which is a noteworthy illustration of inconsistency. Lord Herbert did not
believe in the divine origin of Christianity, and wrote a book against the credi-
bility of the accounts of miracles in the Bible. When the manuscript was com-
j>Ieted he exhibited it to Grotius and Tilenus, whom he met in France. They
praised it much, and exhorted him to publish it ; but he foresaw that it would
encounter opposition, and hesitated for some time. The history of what followed
is given in his own words :

" One fine day, about noon, my windows being open, I took my book, knelt
down and pronounced aloud these words : ' O eternal God, creator of the light
which illuminates me ; thou who enlightenest souls when thou wouldst, tell me
by a celestial sign if I should publish or suppress my work.' I had hardly
uttered these words than a loud but agreeable sound proceeded from heaven,
which impressed me with such great joy that I felt convinced that my request
was granted. Howsoever strange this may appear, I protest, before God, not only
that I heard the sound, but saw, in the clearest sky on which I ever gazed, the
spot whence it came. In consequence of this sign I published my book iand
spread it throughout all Christian lands, amongst all the learned capable of read-
ing and appreciating it."

This circumstance is of great importance. No doubt has ever been thrown
upon the truth of the recital, which shows how a person not subject to hallucina-
tions, under circumstances of deep meditation, or under the influence of strong
desire and expectation, may generate an hallucination, which may be the only
one that he will experience in the course of a lifetime, and leave no evil effects
except the false inferences which, supposing it to be of supernatural origin, he
will draw from it. It demonstrates also that the absence or the presence of any
particular form of faith is not essential ; and it is obvious that Lord Herbert

Al'I'ARITlONS AN'I) VISIONS.

ill

)wn
ina-

)"g

:cts

iny

krt

niij^ht easily have passed into a state of habitual visions in all respf.-cts analoj^oiis
to those of Swedi:nl)or<; ami St. Theresa.

We also app(Mul the followinj^f e.xcellent siiinniary of inductions with which
Dr. Huckl(;y closes his chapter on visions:

I St. Siich visions occur in all parts of the worUl, under every form of civili-
zation and relii^ion ; and when the dyin<,^ app(;ar to see anything, it is in harmony
with the traditit)ns which they have received.

2nd. Such visions are often experienced by those whose lives have not been
marked byrelij^ious consistency, while many of the most ilevout are permitt«*d to
die without such aid, sometimes e.xperiencing the severest mental conllicts as they
approach the crisis.

3rd. Where persons appear to see anj^els and disembodietl sj)irits, the visions
accord with the traditional views of their shape and expression ; and where
wicked persons see fiends and evil spirits, they harmonize with the descriptions
which have been given in the sermons, poems and supernatural narratives with
which they have been familiar.

4th. Many of the most remarkable visions have been seen by persons who
supposed themselves to be dying, but were not ; and who, when they recovered,
had not the slightest recollection of what had occurred. When a student, I was
called, with others, to witness the death-bed scene of the most popular young
man in the institution. He had professed, during his illness, a religious conversion,
and was supposed to be dying of typhoid fever. Never have I heard more vivid
descriptions or more eloquent words. It seemed as though he must see another
state of being. After the scene he sank into a lethargic state, in which he
remained for some days, afterward gradually recovering. Both his conversion
and visions were utterly forgotten, and not until many years later did he enter
upon a religious life.

5th. A consideration of great weight is this : the Catholic Church confers
great honor upon the Holy Virgin ; Protestants seldom make any reference to
her. Trained as the former are to supplicate the sympathy and prayers of the
mother of our Lord, I am informed by devout priests and by physicians that when
they have visions of any kind, she generally appears in the foreground. Among
the visions which dying Protestants have been supposed to see, I have heard of
only two in which the Virgin figured, and these were seen by persons trained in
their youth as Catholics.

AN APPARITION ATTESTED BY TWO WITNESSES, AND OTHER PSYCHIC PHENOMENA.

The following story, with other strange incidents, is given in the Arena
{1892) by the Rev. Minot J. Savage, and is given by kind consent of the
publishers :

The incident I am about to relate occurred two years ago this winter. The

nil

«I3

GMMI'SKS OF THK UNSKEN.

place is a lar^e city in a nci^hl)oriii^ state. The thr(M' ptrrsons concertKrd arc a
doctor, his wife ;m(l one of !iis pati«;nts. The story, as I tell it, was j^iven me
by the wife. She was an oUl school friend of some of my personal friends, who
hold her in the highest esteem. Her husband I have never seen, hut a connttc-
tion of mine was onc(! a patient of his, atul speaks of him always with enthusiastic
admiration, both as a man and a physician, lit; is a doctor of the old school,
inclined to be a sceptic.and had never had anythinj^ whatever to do with mediums
He is not visionary, and this was his first e.xperi(Mice out of the normal.

On a winter ni^ht, then, two years ajjo, he was sound asleep. Heinjf very
weary, and in order that he mii,dit sleep as late as possible, the green holland
shade of his own window was down to the bottom, and there was no way by
which any light could penetrate his room. His wife was asleep in a room ad-
joining, with a door open between. She was waked out of a sound sleep by
hearing him call her name. She opened her eyes, and saw his room flooded with
a soft yet intense yellowish light. She called, and said : " What is that light ? "
He replied: " I don't know ; come in and see I " She then went into his room,
and saw that it was full of this light. They lighted the gas, but the other light
was so much stronger that the gas flame seemed lost in it. They looked at their
watches, and it was about five full minutes before it had faded away. During
this time he explained to her what had occurred. He said he was wakened by a
strong ligh*- shining directly into his face. At the same time, on opening his
eyes, he saw the figure of a woman standing at the foot of his bed. His first
thought was that his wife had come in and lighted the gas, as he knew she in-
tended rising to take an early train in order to visit his mother, who was ill.
Being very tired, and needing sleep, he was about to reproach her for needlessly
waking him, when he saw that the figure, from which now all the light seemed to
proceed, was not his wife. By this time he was broad awake, and sat upright in
bed, staring at the figure. He noticed that it was dressed in a white garment,
and, looking sharply, he recognized what he thought was one of his patients, who
was very ill. Then he realized that this could not be so, and that if anyone
was in the room, it must be an intruder who had no right to be there. With the
vague thought of a possible burglar thus disguised, he sprang out of bed and
grasped his revolver, which he was accustomed to have near at hand. This
brought him face to face with the figure not three feet away. He now saw every
detail of dress, complexion and feature, and for the first time recognized the
fact that it was not a being of flesh and blood. Then it was that, in quite an
excited manner, he called his wife, hoping that she would get there to see it also.
But the moment he called her name, the figure disappeared, leaving, however,
the intense yellow light behind, and which they both observed for five minutes
by the watch before it faded out.

The next day it was found that one of his patients, closely resembling the

■ »

les

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

>«3

figure he had seen, had died a few minutes before he saw his vision -had died
calltnf^ for htm.

It will be seen that tliis story is perfectly authentic in every particular.
There is no (|uestion as to the facts. It only remains to find a tlu'ory that will
explain the facts. Was it a teiepathically-pnxluced vision, caused by the strong
desire of the dying woinan to see her j^hysician ? Or was it I'le woman herself
coming to him a few moments after leaving the body ? I leave my readers to
reply for themselves.

A DEATH VISION.

I will now relate a death vision that has a!)out it some unusual features.
These visions, of course, are very common. I have known many that were
striking ; but generally there is no way of proving that they are not entirely sub-
jective. The dying frequently appear to see and converse with their friends
who have preceded them, but how can anyone tell that they are not like the
imaginings of those in delirium? I have in my collection two or three that have
about them certain characteristics that are hard to explain on that theory. One
of the best is the following :

In a neighboring city were two little girls, Jennie and Edith, one about
eight years of age and the other but a little older. They were schoolmates and
intimate friends. In June, i88g, both were taken ill of diphtheria. At noon on
Wednesday, June 5, Jennie died. Then the parents of Edith, and her physician
as well, all took particular pains to keep from her the fact that her little play-
mate was gone. They feared the effect of the knowledge on her own condition.
To prove that they succeeded and that she did not know, it may be mentioned
that on Saturday, June 8, at noon, just before she became unconscious of all that
was passing about her, she selected two of her photograj^hs to be sent to Jennie,
and also told her attendants to bid her good-bye.

Right here is the important point to be noticed in this narration. Dying
persons usually see, or think they see, those and only those that they know have
passed away. Edith did not know that Jennie had gone, and so, in the ordinary
or imaginative vision, she would not have been expected to fancy her present.

She died at half-past six o'clock on the evening of Saturday, June 8. She
had roused and bidden her friends good-bye, and was talking of dying, and
seeming to have no fear. She ajipeared to see one and another of the friends
shf* knew were dead. So far it was like the common cases. But now suddenly,
and with every appearance of great surprise, she turned to her father and
exclaimed : '* Why, papa, I am going to take Jennie with me I " Then she added :
"Why, papa! Why, papa! You did not tell me that Jennie was here!" And
immediately she reached out her arms as if in welcome, and said : " O Jennie,
I'm so glad you are here."

liBA

214

GLIMI'SKS OK THE UNSliliN.

Now, I am familiar with the mechanism ol ilw. eye and the scientific
theories of vision. 1 know also ver)- well whatever the world knows about
visions. Hut I submit that here is somethiuL]^ not easil)- accounted for on the
theory of hallucination. It was firmly fixed in her mind that Jennie was still
alive, for within a few hours she had arranj^ed to have a photojjjraph sent her.

This also comes out in the fact of her great astonishment when iier friend
appears amonjj; those she was not at all surprised to see, because she knew they
had died. It goes, then, beyond the ordinary death vision, and presents ,i
feature that demands, as an adecjuate explanation, something more than the
easy one of saying .'^he only imagined it.

CAN AN'IMAI.S RECOC.NIZp: SPIRIT FORMS?

I have read, of course, a good many stories telling of the apparent seeing
of "spirit" forms on the part of animals. One such, and a perfectly authentic
one, I have in ni}- collection. The friend who gave it me I will call Miss Z. I
have known her for seventeen years, and feel as sure of the truth of her narrative
as though I had been in her place. Without any further preface, I will tell her
brief story.

In the spring of 1885, on a certain evening, she was alone in the house.
All the family, even to the servants, had gone out. It was about eight o'clock,
but several gas jets were burning, so that the room was light throughout. It
was in the parlor, a long room running the whole length of the house. Near
the back of the parlor stood the piano. Miss Z. was sitting at the piano, prac--
tising at a difficult music, d exercise, playing it over and over, and naturally
with her mind intent on this alone. She had as her only companion a little
Skye terrier, a great pet, and which, never h.iving been whipped, was apparently
afraid of nothing in all the world. lie was comfortably placed in an easy chair
behind the piano stool.

Such, then, was the situation when Miss /. was startUid by hearing a sudden
growl from the terrier, as if giving an alarm of danger. She looked up suddenly
to see what the matter was, when, at the further end 'of the room, the front of
the jiarlor, there appeared to be a sort of mist stretching itself from the door
half-way across the rcjom. As she watched it, this mist, which was gra\-,
seemed to shape itself into three forms. The heads and shoulders were quite
clearly outlined and distinct, though they appear(;d to have loose wrappings
about them. From the height and general slope of the shoulders of one, she
thought she recognized the figure of a favorite aunt who had died a few years
before. The middle figure of the three was much shorter, and made her think
of her grandmother, who had been dead for a good many years. The third she
did not recognize at all. The faces she did not see distinctly enough so as to
feel in any way sure about them.

AFI'ARiriONS AND VISIONS

2'5

lo
Lly
lir

'ly

of
or

lis

The (log always before very l)rave, now seemed overcome with terror. He
growled fiercely several times, and then jumjied trenihhni; from his chair, nnd
hid himself under a large sofa, utterly refusing to be coaxed out. Hi.s mistress
had never known him to show fear before on any occasion whatever.

Miss Z. now watched the figures, while they grew more and more imlistinct,
and at last seemed to fade through the closed door into the front hall. WIumi
they had disappeared, she gave her attention to the frightened terrier. He
would not leave his hiding-place, and she was obliged to move the sofa and
carefully lift th^ trembling little creature in her arms.

Now, the only remarkable thing about this is, of course, the attitude and
action of the dog. The '* spirits " did not seem to have come for anything.
They said nothing, and did nothing of any importance. ]3ut — and this is where
the problem comes in — what did the dog see ? If his mistress had seen the
figures first and had shown any fear, it might reasonably be said that her fear
was contagious, and that the dog was frightened because she was. But the dog
was the first di.icoverer; the discoverer — of what ? If there had been nothing
there to see, the dog would have seen nothing. /\re dogs subject to hallucina-
tions ? Even if they are, and though it were a subjective vision on the dog's jiart,
how does it happen that Miss Z. also sees it ? Would she mistake a dog's
subjective vision for the figure of her aunt ?

Turn it about as you will, it a curious experience, and one worth the
reader's finding an explanation for, if he can.

DO Till-: IM'.PAK'ri'.D COMMI'NICAII'. WITH IHI". LIVING ?

The limits of this article will make room for only one more story. The
lady who had this experience is the one who gives us the account of it, though
1 tell it in my own words. She was a schoolmate of my brother, and her char-
acter and veracity are beyond iiuestion. In Juik^, i8S6, she was a j)atient in the
family of a physician in a well-known city in a neighboring state. She was
suftering much from mental depression, feeling assured in lier own mind that
she had an ovarian tumor. On this particular clay, she was lying alone in her
room, unusually ojipressed by foreboding fears. Lying thus, absorbed in
thoughts i)f her own condition, she suddenly became conscious as of an open
map oi the United States being spread before her. Her attention was particu-
larly directed to Virginia, and then westward to, as slu> tluMi thought, Ohio. At
the same time slie heard tlie name " McDowell." At onci^ slu^ thought of Gen-
eral McDowell, as the only one she knew of by that name. Hut a calm, gtMitle
voice seemed to reply to her unspoken thought : " No, I am not Cieneral Mc-
Dowell, but a physician. I was the first advocate and practitioner of ovarian
surgery. By the urgent re(iuest of your friends, I have examined your case
very carefully. Rest assured, madam, your malady is not of that character. In
time you will regain your health, but never be very strouL^"

3l6

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

With a feeling of awe, gratitude and wonder which, she says, she could not
attempt to express, she rose from the couch on which she was lying, and went
at once to the doctor's office in another part of the house. At once she related
what had occurred, and asked: "Am I right?" The physician, a lady, went
to her library and took down her Medical Encyclopaedia. From this she read ;
" Ephraim McDowell, born in Virginia, settled in Kentucky. He performed
the first operation in ovarian surgery that is recorded in this country."

She was correct, therefore, in every particular, except the substituting Ohio
for Kentucky, and this is quite nataral, as it is the next adjoining state.

Several points now it is important carefully to note.

In the first place, this lady has had many psychic experiences, others of
which I hope to obtain.

In the second place, until these began, she was a complete sceptic as to
continued existence. She tells me that she was a most unwilling convert, and
only gave in when compelled to by her own undoubted experiences.

Again, she had never been surrounded by any atmosphere of belief in these
things ; for even now most of her friends and relatives are violently opposed to
everything of the sort, and she has had to suffer much because she could not
help but believe.

Once more, I have been in recent correspondence with the physician in
whose house she was at the time. This physician completely confirms all the
facts, and testifies in the most emphatic way to the noble character and unques-
tioned veracity of her patient. And yet, though she offers no other theory, sh -
is strongly opposed to any explanation that calls for the agency of any super-
normal intelligence. This, however, grows out of the fact that she has always
been bitterly prejudiced against everything of the kind.

And, lastly, both the physician and her patient are perfectly assured that
the name of Dr. McDowell and his work as a surgeon were entirely unknown to
the teller of this experience at the time when the voice was heard.

I have many other equally puzzling cases left, but these are enough for the
present instalment. Who will find a theory that does not lead us into the
invisible ?

THE DAUGHTER OF SIR CHARLES LEE.
(From Stilling's " Pneumatology.")

Sir Charles Lee. by his first lady, had only one daughter, of which she
died in childbirth ; and when she was dead, her sister, the lady Everard, desired
to have the education of the child, and she was by her very well educated till
she was marriageable, and a match was concluded for her with Sir William
Perkins, but was then prevented in an extraordinary manner. Upon a Thursday
night, she thinking she saw a light in her chamber, after s'.ie was in bed,

APPARITIONS AND VISIONS.

217

the
the

knocked for her maid, who presently came to her; and she asked why she
left a candle burning in her chamber. The maid said she left none, and there
was none but what she had brouji;lit with her at that lime. Then she said it
was the fire; but that, her maid told her, was quite out, and said she believed
it was only a dream ; whereupon she said it might be so, and composed herself
again to sleep. But about two c' the clock she was awakened again, and saw
the apparition of a little woman between her curtain and her pillow, who told
her she was her mother, that she was hap[)y, and that by twelve of the clock
that day she should be with her. Whereupon she knocked again for her maid,
called for her clothes, and when she was dressed, went into her closet, and came
not out again until nine, and then brought out with her a letter, sealed, to her
father; brought it to her aunt, the Lady Everard, told her what had happened,
and declared that as soon as she was dead it might be sent to him. The lady
thought she was suddenly fallen mad, and thereupon sent presently away to
Chelmsford for a physician and surgeon, who both came immediately ; but the
physician could discern no indication of what the lady imagined, or of any indis-
position of her body ; notwithstanding, the lady would needs have her let blood,
which was done accordingly. And when the young woman had patiently let
them do what they would with her, she desired that the chaplain might be called
to read prayers; and when prayers were ended, she took her guitar and psalm-
book and sat down on a chair without arms, and played and sung so melodiously
and admirably that her music master, who was then there, admired at it. And
near the stroke of twelve she rose and sate herself down in a great chair with
arms, and presently, fetching a strong breath or two, immediately expired, and
was so suddenly cold as was much wondered at by the physician and surgeon.

She died at Waltham, in Essex, three miles from Chelmsford, and the letter
was sent to Sir Charles at his house in Warwickshire, but he was so afflicted
with the death of his daughter that he came not till she was buried ; but when
he came, he caused her to be taken up and to be buried with her mother at
Edmonton, as she desired in her letter.

The reflections which this case suggests seems to us to afford a natural
explanation of the event ; the imagination of a sensitive girl would be highly
excited at the thoughts of approaching death. The exaltation of the nervous
system, in an organization which was probably delicate, arrived at such a pitch
as to exterminate life. As regards the revelation, rational minds will only see
a happy coincidence, for without this accompaniment the story would never
have been told.

THE CASE OF M. BEZUEL.

The following case is related by Ferriar :

M. Bezuel, a young student of filteen, had contracted an intimacy with a
younger lad named Desfontaines. After talking together of the compacts which

ai8

GI.IMPSKS OF I'HK UNSKEN.

had been made between persons, that in case of death the spirit of the deceased
should visit the survivor, they agreed to form such a compact together, and
signed it with their blood in 1696. Soon after this, they were separated by
Desfontaines' removal to Caen.

Jn July, 1697, Bezuel, while amusing himself in haymaking near a friend's
house, was seized with a fainting fit; after which he had a bad night. Notwith-
standing this attack, he returned to the meadow next day, when he again fainted.
On the third day he had a still more severe attack. " I fell into a swoon ; I lost
my senses ; one of the footmen perceived me and called out for help. They
recovered me a little, but my mind was more disordered than it had been before;
I was told that they asked me then what ailed me, and that I answered, / have
seen what I thought I should never see. But I neither remember the question nor
the answer. However, it agrees with what I remember I saw then — a naked
man in half length ; i)ut I knew him not.

Shortly after, when mounting a ladder, I saw at the bottom of it my
school-fellow, Desfontaines, At this sight, I had another fainting fit ; my head
got between two steps, and I again lost my senses. They helped me down, and
sat me on a large beam which served for a seat in the Place des Capucins. I
sat upon it, and then I no longer saw M. de Sorteville nor his servants, though
they were present. Perceiving Desfontaines near the foot of the ladder, who
made me a sign to come to him, I went back upon my seat, as it were, to make
room for him ; those who saw me, but whom I did not see, though my eyes
were open, observed that movement.

Because he did not come, I got up to go to him ; he came up to me, took
hold of my left arm with his right hand, and carried me thirty paces further into
a by-lane, holding me fast.

The servants, believing that I was well again, went to their business, except
a stable-boy, who told M. de Sorteville that I was talking to myself. M. de
Sorteville thought I was drunk. He came near me, and heard me ask some
questions and return some answers, as he told me since.

I talked with Desfontaines nearly three-quarters of an hour. ' I promised
you,' said he, ' that if I died before you, I would come and tell you so. I was
drowned in the river of Caen, yester '-^y, •"'t this hour. I was walking with such
and such persons. The weatlu r was very hot ; the fancy took up to go into the
water ; I grew faint, and sunk to the bottom of the river. The Abbe Meniljean,
my school-fellow, dived to bring me up. I took hold of his foot ; but whether
he was afraid or had a mind to rise to the top of the water, he struck out his
leg so violently that he gave me a blow on the breast, and threw me again to
the bottom of the river, which is there very deep.'

Desfontaines [continues M. Bezuel] was taller than when I had seen
him alive. I always saw him half-iength, and naked, bareheaded, with his fine

:ept

)me

ken

ArPARiriONS AND \ ISIONS.

219

Ught hair, and a white paper upon his forehead, twisted in his hair, on which
there was a writing, but I could only read ' /;/, etc' "

The (juestion naturally arises, was Bczuel's fainting <its caused by the
apparition, or was the apparition caused by Bezuel's fainting fits. The com-
munication is, of course, to be taken into account, and the facts there communi-
cated should have their value. If, however, these facts, though unknown to
Bezuel at the time, were known to anyone with whom he was in syu, pathetic
relationship, telepathy would forbid our acceptance of '.ije communicated facts
as a proof of the reality of the apparition.

EXTRACT OF A LETTER FROM AN ENLIGHTENED AND LEARNED DIVINE IN THE NORTH

OF GERMANY.
(Taken from Stilling's "Pneumatology.")

*' I will now, in conclusion, mention to you a very edifying story of an ap-
parition, for the truth of which I can vc . i with all that is dear to me. My
late nnother, a pattern of true piety, and who was continually engaged in prayer,
lost, quite unexpectedly, after a short illness arising from a sore throat, my
younger sister, a girl of about fourteen years of age. Now, as during her illness
she had not spoken much with her on spiritual subjects, by no means supposing
her end so near (although my father had done so), she reproached and grieved
herself most profoundly, not only on this account, but also for not having
sufficiently nursed and attended upon her, or for having neglected something
that might have brought on her death. This feeling took so much hold of her
that she not only altered much in her appearance, from loss of appetite, but
became so monosyllabic in speaking that she never expressed herself except on
bemg interrogated. She still, however, continued to pray diligently in her
chamber. Being already grown up at the time, I spoke with my father respect-
ing her, and asked him what was to be done, and how my good mother might
be comforted. He shrugged up his skould'^rs, and gave me to understand that,
unless God interposed, he feared the worst. Now, it happened that some days
after, when we were all together, one Sunday morning, at church, with the ex-
ception of my mother — who remained at home — that, on rising up from prayer
in her closet, she heard a noise as though someone was with her in the room.
On looking about to ascertain whence the noise proceeded, something took hold
of her invisibly and pressed her firmly to it, as if she had been embraced by
someone, and the same moment she heard — without seeing anything whatever
— -very distinctly, the voice of her departed daughter calling out quite plainly to
her: ^Mamma! mamma! I am so happy — lamsoliappy!' Immediately after these
words the pressure subsided, and my mother felt and heard nothing more. But
what a wished-for change did we all perceive in our dear mother on coming
home I She had regained her speech and former cheerfulness ; she ate and

i«e

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

drank, and rejoiced with us at the mercy which the Lord had bestowed upon
her ; nor, durinf^ her whole Hfe, did she ever notice again, with grief, the great
loss which she had suffered by the decease of this excellent daughter."

This event took place at Levin, a village belonging to the duchy of Mecklen-
berg, not far from Demmin, in Prussian-Pomerania, in the year 1759, the Sunday
before Michaelmas.

A CASE SIMILAR TO THE ABOVE.

In the journal of the Rev. John Wesley, there is an account given of an
apparition, which, in many respects, bears great similarity to the foregoing, and
must be acounted for on similar principles. It was related by the gentlewoman
herself, and is as follows :

"About thirty years ago, I was addressed, by way of marriage, by Mr.
Richard Mercier, then a volunteer in the army. The young gentleman was
quartered at that time in Charleville, where my father lived, who approved of his
addresses and directed me to look upon him as my future husband. When the
regiment left the town, he promised to return in two months and marry me.
From Charleville he went to Dublin, thence to his father's, and thence to Eng-
land, where, his father having bought him a cornetcy of horse, he purchased
many ornaments for the wedding, and, returning to Ireland, let us know that he
would be at our house in Charleville in a few days. On this, the family was
busied to prepare for his reception and the ensuing marriage ; when one night,
my sister Mary and I being asleep in our bed, I was awakened by the sudden
opening of the side curtain, and, starting up, saw Mr. Mercier standing by the
bedside. He was wrapped up in a loose .sheet, and had a napkin folded like
a nightcap on his head. He looked at me very earnestly, and, lifting up the
napkin which much shaded his face, showed me the left side of his head, all bloody
and covered with his brains ; the room, meantime, was quite light. My terror
was excessive, which was increased by his stooping over the bed and embracing
me in his arms. My cries alarmed the whole family, who came crowding into
the room. Upon their entrarice he gently withdrew his arms and ascended, as
it were, through the ceiling. I continued for some time in strong fits. When I
could speak, I told them what I had seen. One of them, a day or two after,
going to the postmaster for letters, found him reading the newspapers, in
which was an account that Cornet Mercier, going into Christ-church belfry, in
Dublin, just after the bells had been ringing, and, standing under the bells, one
of them, which was turned bottom upward, suddenly turned again, struck one
side of his head, and killed him on the spot. On further enquiry, we found he
was struck on the left side of his head."

IIANDKL.

CIIAPTKK VIII.

fresp:ntiments and prkmonitioxs.

Inlrodiiclory Essay by the Editor.

APRESENTIAIENT, according to Webster, is a previous conception, senti-
ment or opinion — a previous apprehension. A i")rcmonition is a previous
warning, notice or information. "The Standard Dictionary"definesa pre-
sentiment as "a prophetic or imaginative apprehension of something future,
especially a notion or feeh'ng that calamity is at hand." Its definition of
premonition is "forewarning, a previous notice or warning of something to occur."
As ordinarily used, a presentiment is a conviction of something about to happen.
A presentiment may be, and often is, of something good about to happen ; yet.
because these presentiments are not tragical, they are not remembered and
discussed, though the writer believes that presentiments of good are oftener
verified by experience than presentiments of evil. For this reason the current
use of the term is equivalent to premonition or forewarning, and hence implies
something evil.

One thing that must occur to every reflecting mind is the common character
of these presentiments. Nearlyeveryone has them, and with certain persons who,
from habit, pay attention to all thoughts and feelings, the direct origin of which
they do not understand, these presentiments become quite a factor of mental
life. It is quite evident that many of these originate in the unconscious workings
of the mind. Some of them are to be traced to the condition of the body.
Presentiments of evil are quite common to those in ill health and to all who
are victims of overwork and worry. Most of these presentiments are of a general
character, and as evil is a very common experience, it is not wonderful that very
many of these general presentiments find fulfilment. In regard to the presenti-
ments that are more specific in their character, and which find fulfilment in
experience, it must be observed that out of a very large number of presentiments
which men have it would naturally be expected that some would find fulfilment
in subsequent experience. The greater number by far of all presentiments of
evil are happily unfulfilled. Dr. Buckley, in his able work on " Faith Healing,
Christain Science and Kindred Phenomena," tells of " a manufacturer, whose
name is known in every city of the Union and in most foreign countries, whose
riches are estimated at many millions, employees numbered by thousands,
charities munificent, piety undoubted and sanity unquestioned, who has had
presentiments of disaster a score of times within the last twenty-five years, not
one of which has been fulfilled ; but all, while they lasted, were as mtense and
overpowering as any could be."

••4

r.l-IMl'SKS OK TIIIC UNSKliN.

To " unconscio'is cerebration," to the condition of the body, to secret
sprin<;s of thouj^ht and feelin<; in human nature, without doubt, are to be attrib-
uted tlie vast majority of impressions. That mind in somt; mysterious wav
affects mind other than throu<;li the ordinary channels of communication is a
firm conviction of the writer. Many of tiie fulliUcd presentiments may be ex-
plained by telepathy and clairvoyance, and while it may be that some presenti-
ments and premonitions ori<j;inate supernaturally, the scientific method of
research would forbid such explanation of their orij^in, st3 long as it is possible to
account on natural principles for the presentiment and its fulfilment.

No one will question the Creator's rif^ht and power to produce impression
of cominfT events or fjive propl.^tic knowled<;e of the same, or the possibibty that
other intelligences may be involved in these presentiments and forewarnings. It
can scarcely be necessary to resort to this interpretation in the vast majority of
these experiences which come under our notice.

• THE INTERPRETATION OF AUTOMATISM.
Prof. Wm. R. Newbold.

In the February number of the Popular Science Monthly, of this year. Prof.
Wm. R. Newbold, the scientist, discusses the above theme as follows:

Nine times in the course of my own life I have had what is called a pre-
sentiment. Eight times I wrote it down at once before learning whether it was
true or false, and the ninth time I spoke of it. Three of these were false, one
was partly true and partly false, one was not verified, but probably false. All
these related to subjects much in my thoughts and were probably suggested by
circumstances. Four were true, of which one might have been suggested by
circumstances. The other three were not only true, and not apparently sug-
gested by circumstances, but were among the most agitating experiences of my
life. One drove me, in spite of the resistance of my reason, to take a journey
which seemed the act of a lunatic, and proved the wisest thing I could do.
Another impelled me to write a letter to a person 350 miles away, to whom I
had written a few hours before, but who happened to be in great trouble at the
moment I felt the impulse. The third gave me absolute assurance that the very
thing was about to happen which I believed to be of all things most impossible.
I do not, of course, quote these few experiences as proving the existence of tele-
pathy, but merelyas illustrating what I mean by apparently telepathic phenomena.
The vast majority of apparently supernormal phenomena are susceptible of a
telepathic explanation, but in a few cases one is driven to other conceptions.
Sometimes knowledge is shown of events not known to anyone, and at other
times a percipient will seem to see things at a distance, or to become aware of
events remote in time. These phenomena are ascribed to clairvoyance, pre-
cognition and retrocognition. They are much less common than those of the
telepathic type, and the evidence for them is by no means as good.

PRESENTIMKN'I'S AND TRKMOMTK )NS.

SUg-

A CHILD'S rUOFHKCY.

Twenty-one years af:^o I knew a little f;irl livinj* next door to me, who mride
such a vivid impression on my mind I shall tu.ver forj^et it. The little j^iri was
about five years old; had always enjoyed };ood health. One day, she ale her
dinner as usual and went out in the yard to play. She came in about two
o'clock, look off her bonnet and sat down in her little chair, asked her mother
what time it was, and said she was goinji; to die at four o'clock that afternoon.
The mother said : " Why do you talk that way ? " " Oh, because I am ^oini,' to
die, and I thought I would tell you." The mother told her to go out and play
and not talk so. She went out again and played as usual until a short time
before four o'clock, when she came in and sat down in her little chair agam
without saying a word, and died just as the clock struck four.

Mrs. Jennie L. Tannef'LL.
Siloam Springs, Ark., Dec. 20, 1896.

DANIEL m'tAVISH, WHILE IN GOOD HEALTH, FORETELLS HIS EARLY DECEASE.

My husband, Daniel McTavish, died October 30th, 1873, in his 32nd year.
About six weeks before he died he attended the funeral of a friend, and on his
return, after telling me of the sad circumstance, he said: *' My time, too, is short;
my days are nearly numbered." I tried to reason him out of the notion, and
attributed it to his having been at the funeral, but he said : " No ; my days are
nearly numbered." Up to this time he had been in perfect health, but he
immediately began to straighten up his business. He seemed anxious to go
back to our first home, and in two weeks we were there. For two weeks after
we got back he seemed perfectly well, and four weeks from the day we reached
our first home he was buried.

Emily McTavish.

Ridgetown, Ont., April 6, 1897.

ANALYSIS OF TYPICAL PRESENTIMENTS.
The Rev. J. M. Buckley, LL.D.

The following article we extract from " Faith Healing, Christian Science
and Kindred Phenomena," by Dr. Buckley, with the kind consent of the author :

'* Presentiments concerning hours of death have sometimes been defeated
by deceiving their subjects. Well-authenticated instances exist of chloroforming
those who had made preparation for death, but whose gloomy apprehension was
dispelled when they found that the time had passed and they were still living.

The case of the dissipated Lord Lyttleton, who was subject to ' suffocating
fits,' and who claimed that his death had been predicted to occur in three days,
at twelve o'clock, midnight, is easily explained. On the evening of that night
some of his friends to whom he told the story said, when he was absent from the

t«6

(ll.IMrsKS OK rilK UNSKKN.

room : ' Lyttloton will frighten himself into another fit with that foolish j^host
story'; and, thinkinj^ to prevent it, they set for\v;ir<l the clock which stood in
the room. When he returned they called out : 'Hurrah, Lyttleton ! Twelve
o'clock is past; you've jockeyed the ^host. Now the West tiling to do is to ro
quietly to bed, and in the morniti},' you will he all ri<;ht.' Hut they had forj^olten
about the clock in the parish church tower, and when it bej^'an slowly tollinj^ the
hour of midni^,'ht he was seized with a paroxysm and died in <;reat aj^ony. The
opinion of those who knew the circumstances was that the sudden revulsion of
feeling caused such a re-action as to bring on the fit which carried him oH. This
is a rational view, for when one nearly dead believes that hv. is about to die, the
incubus of such an imjiression is as effective as a dirk- thrust or poison.

Many extraordinary tales are told of preMiitimenls on the eve of battle, and
the particulars are given ; l)ut this is not wonderful. vSoldiers and sailors are
proverbially superstitious. The leisure they frecjuently have favors the recital of
marvelous experiences ; and battles depend upon so many contin;;encies, and
are liable to be controlled by such inexplicable circumstances as to give to even
the bravest of men a tinge of superstition. It has been ob.served that most
unrighteous battles, fought against an oppressed people, have been attended by
victories turning upon circumstances that may have been accidental ; and that
the most heroic patriotism has been defeated in the same way. That soldiers
should have presentiments is not strange; and that those who have been exceed-
ingly fortunate through a score of battles should sometimes, in moments of
depression, conclude that they would die in the next battle is not extraordinary.
In these voluminous narratives we find little or nothing of presentiments of cer-
tain escape, though they too are often fulfilled and as often disappointed.

A correspondent of Note: atui Queries, second series, thirty-fourth volume,
having spent several months ii .he Crimea during the severest period of the
bombardment, says : ' I can state that many cases of presentiment were fulfilled ;
as also that some were falsified. There were also many deaths without any
accompanying presentiment having been made known.' The gnat Turenne
exclaimed : ' I do not mean to be killed to-day '; but a few moments afterwards
he was struck down in battle by a cannon-ball.

The possibilities of chance in the fulfilment of presentiments are incomput-
able, as a fact which occurred in this country during the Civil War, and which is
known by thousands yet living to be true, may serve to show. Joseph C. Baldwin,
a young gentleman residing in Newark, N.J., was a journalist of more than local
fame. He wrote under several pseudonyms, one of which was ' Ned Carrol,'
and another ' Frank Greenwood.' The articles written under the latter
name were unlike any of his other productions, being personal and censorious
in character, and Frank Greenwood was, in consequence, most unpopular in
Newark and vicinit}', while Ned Carrol was a general favorite. Early in the

PRKSKN'riMKNTS AND rRKMON'II IONS.

»»7

tlitj

ume,

the

led;

any

line

lards

|put-
:h is

war Mr. Baldwin enlisted in llu' iilli Ke^iiucnt of New Jersey N'oliinteers,
and, alter arivinj; at the seat of war, wrote several letters (or puMication, in one
of \Vliich, sent to the Newark Conner, he describes the death ol the mythical
(ireenwood in these words :

Army of the Lower l*otomac, General Hooker's Division.
Mi< ICditok :

I only lulfil the dyiiif< reciuest of a beloved comrade in apprising you of his
f5ad late. Two months a<4() I'Vank ( IrecMiwood joined our company (C, 5th
Kej^iment), and soon becaim; a <;eneral lavorit<!, owinj^ to hisj^rt-at sociahiliiy and
und Hinted coura<;e. He r(;ceived his death-wound from a shell, which was
thrown from the Cockpit Point rebel battery, and burst within twentv feet of
him, while holding,' tli(! sij^iial halyards at a review on the ^rd inst. We mourn
Jiim as a brother.

Ni:i) Cakkol.

On the 15th of May, 1864, Lieutenant lialdwin, who iiad been in the battles
of Hull ivun, ( ielt\sl)ur^, l''redericksl)urf^^ Cli.uuu.'llorsvilh!, Antielam and the
Wilderness, and a score or more of skirmishes, who had had many narrow
escapes and many wounds in the active service, sat in camp, kno.vin^ of no
dan^'er near, when a piece of iron from a shell 'thrown (rom a rebel battory,'
which 'burst within twenty feet of him,' struck him in the back of the head,
killing; him instantly.

Let those who propose to prove supernatural portents by mathematics
determine what the ' probibility ' was that in a nure spirit of jest he should
describe in detail the manner of his own death months afterward.*

Soon after the Civil War I concluded to <^o South by steamer, and took
passaj^e from St. Louis on the steamship Luiiiinary for New Orleans. Navij^ation
on the Mississippi River at that time was uncertain. Mariy old vessels were
employed, the condition of the river was dangerous, and during the preceding
twelve or fifteen months nine steamers had been blown up, or otherwise de-
stroyed, resulting in great loss of life. Nearly all the accidents had been caused
by the explosion of what are known as tubular boilers, and strong prejudice
arose against vessels having boilers of that kind. The LiDuinary was of the
old-fashioned sort, and a number of passengers had taken it solely on that
account.

I was accompanied to the vessel by my brother, who up to that time had

•Dreams without any proper authentication of detail are published and republished. " The night that President
Lincoln was murdered, a neighbor of mine," writes a physician, "declared that the President was killed, and by an
assassin. It was several hours before the news reached the town."

The wife of a New York clergyman made a similar statement just before the news arrived of the assassination of
President Garfield, and said that she saw him in a railw.iy station, surrounded by Indies and others.

But we hear nothing of the seventeen persons who communicated to Andrew Johnson, in the course of the three
years that he was President, dreams describing his death by assassination ; nor of similar communications made to the late
Piesideiit Arthur.

328

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

traveled with me, and was about to return by rail to the coast. As he was upon
the point of bidding me farewell, I was seized, without a moment's thought or
preparation, with an appalling impression that tiie vessel would be lost, and that
I was looking upon my brother for the last time. For some time I seemed to
behold, with almost the vividness of an actual perception, the explosion, to hear
the shrieks of the passengers, and to feel myself swallowed up in the general
destruction. Composing myself as much as possible, I said to my brother : ' If
ever a man had a presentiment of death, I have it now ; but you know I have
for years held that presentiments spring from physical weakness, superstition or
cowardice. Would you yield to these terrible feelings ? ' He replied : * No ! If
you do, you will always be a slave to them.' After some further conversation
he went ashore, and the boat started.

For several hours the dread of disaster overhung me, but gradually wore
off, and late at night I fell asleep. The distance from St. Louis to New Orleans
is about twelve hundred miles. The time taken by the Luminary was seven
days. It was, in all respects, after the first day, a delightful voyage. After
remaining in New Orleans a few days I re-embarked on the same vessel, continu-
ing up the river eight hundred miles, making in all more than two thousand
miles without accident.

Since that experience, in many voyages I have made it an object to inquire
of travelers and others concerning presentiments, and have found that they are
very common, occasionally fulfilled, generally not so; and that it is the tendency
with practically all persons who have had one presentiment come true to force
themselves into all conversations, and to become tyrants over those dependent
upon them or travelling with them. It is to be frankly admitted that no matter
how vivid a supposed presentiment might be, its nonfulfilment would not
demonstrate that there are no presentiments which must have originated external
to the mind of the subject ; but having been led by my experience to induce
many persons to defy such feelings without a single instance of reported evil
results, it confirms strongly the hypothesis of their subjective origin.

That presentiments are governed by no moral principle in the characters of
the subjects to which they are applied, or of those who receive them, the occa-
sions upon which they are given, and their effects, is apparent. The most
immoral have claimed to have them, have communicated them to others, and
they have sometimes been fulfilled by events from which those having them
have derived great advantanges. A few of the best of men have had presenti-
ments ^hat seemed to correspond with subsequent events, but the great majority
of good people have not; and the calamities which have befallen most have
come without any warning, except such as could be inferred from existing situa-
tions. Experience, foresight and guidance by ordinary sagacity have been all
that mankind have had to rely upon ; and to be governed only by these, com-

PRESENTIMENTS AND PREMONITIONS.

229

of
:a-

)St

Ind
jm
Iti-

|ty

l\e
la-

ill

bating or disregarding presentiments, impressions and powerful impulses for
which no foundation can be found in the nature of things, is the only safe and
stable rule."

CLAIRVOYANT BEFORE DEATH THE SINGULAR CASE OF MR. M .

By the Rev. J. W. (larland.

** Mr. M , with whom I have been acquainted for about twenty-two

years, died on the 24th March, 1897. He was a thoughtful student of his Bible,
and a good, moral man. During my acquaintance with him, he observed at
times, and spoke of to me, the inner or spiritual life of certain men with whom
both of us were acquainted. I did not remark this very much, as I thought it
showed in him only a keen perception.

I attended him during his last sickness, and, during that time, the percep-
tion into spiritual things seemed to develop stronger and brighter. He spoke
several times of bright visions which he saw, but they were not well defined.

On the afternoon of March 23rd last, the day biifore he died, about two
o'clock p.m., I called on him. He \/as very glad to see me. During my stay
in the house, his wife, who is an intelligent and pretty well educated woman,
tcld me as fc^llows : Some time before I came, she was in the room with her
husband. He seemed to be in a dreamy mood ; then he woke up quite bright,
and said to his wife I was coming. He could not think of my name, but he
described me so that she knew whom he meant. He told her several times, but
she did not pay much attention. He told her to go and let me in. S^^e did
not go at the moment, but in a few seconds after she heard my knock, and, on
going to the door, was indeed surprised at what he had told her of my coming.

About an hour before he died, he called his wife to him and pointed upward
and described a beautiful, bright sight that he saw, and seemed to be in great
ecstacy of delight. Then he said to his wife: 'See that place? I see a place
tor me up there.' He knew his children and those about him even up to the
last, and died quietly and in peace.

South Stukely, Que., April 15, 1897."

SAVED BY PRESENTIMENTS.

*• I want to tell you a story," said Dr. Moliere, a well-known physician, to ?.
reporter of the San Francisco Chronicle. ** I'm not a superstitious man, nor do
I believe in dreams, but, for the third or fourth time in life, I have witnessed a pre-
monition. I got aboard car No. 81, on the Sutter Street line, at the ferry, yester-
day, to ride up to my office. As usual, I walked to the forward end of the car.took
a seat in the corner with my back to the driver, and, pulling a paper from my
pocket, was soon deeply engrossed in the news. Suddenly; something said to
me: ' Go to the other end of the car.' Acting on impulse, I changed my seat

a$e

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

and so rapid were my movements that the other passengers in the car noticed
them. Remember, I was sitting in the first place with my back to the driver ; I
was paying no attention to anything but the newspaper, and the premonition, it
I may so call it, could not have come from any outside influence, such as seeing
approaching danger ; but, sir, I had not been in my new seat more than five
seconds when the tongue of a heavily-loaded wagon crushed through the side of
the car just where I had been first seated, and had I not changed my seat my
back would have been broken by the wagon-tongue.

As I said [continued the doctor], I am not superstitious, but the incident
I have just related, taken in connection with other incidents of a similar nature
occurring in my life, make me believe in spite of myself that there is a * divinity
that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.' "

In answer to a question as to what similar warning or premonition of danger
he had ever received, Dr. Moliere said : ** Well, one time I was riding on the
Michigan Central Railroad. It was a bitter cold night, and when I entered the
car my feet seemed frozen. I walked forward and took a seat next to the stove
in the forward part of the car, putting my feet on the fender. In a short time a
gentleman changed his seat and came and sat beside me. The train was running
at a high rate of speed, and the draught soon made the heater in the car red-hot.
Suddenly there came to me a premonition of danger, and, turning to my com-
panion, I said: * If we should meet with an accident — a collision for instance —
you and I wonld be in a bad place. We would certainly be hurled on a red-hot
stove.' At the same instant, and before my seat-mate could reply, the impulse
to grasp the end of the seat came upon me so strong I could not resist it, and
hardly had my fingers closed upon the rail of the seat when there came a crash,
and the car we were in was thrown violently from the track. I clung to the
seat, and my companion, when thrown forward, narrowly missed the stove. My
position in the seat was such that had I been pitched headlong as he was, 1
could not have missed the heater. A broken rail caused the accident, but what
caused me to grasp the seat as I did I would like to know."

Speaking of Dr. Moliere's story to a sporting man, the latter said : "Well I've
had the same sort of experience once or twice in my life. I'm superstitious. I admit
it. Of course fellows laugh at me, but, for all that, I believe I've got some sort
of a guardian angel that whispers to me when I'm in danger. Maybe it's one of
the wrong sort, for they do say the devil takes care of his own ; but, wrong or
right as to kind, I know one thing certain, that my life has been saved more
than once. One time I was at a race-course, and was up on the grand stand. I
was broke, and wanted to keep away from the boys. There were not many on
the stand ; it wasn't half-filled, but suddenly I felt an impulse which fairly drove
me out of the place. I had not got clear down the stairs when the whole stand
went down with a crash, and the fellow who was sitting right next to me was

PRESENTIMENTS AND PREMONITIONS.

2$t

lat

've
lit

ort
of
or

)re
I

)n
ve
id

crushed out of all semblance to humanity by a large beam that smashed the whole
row of seats we were in. That is not the only time that I have been warned, and
if the what-is-it would only whisper to me when I go to put my money on the
wrong horse, I'd be a millionaire in a month,

PRESENTIMENTS.

The following sensible remarks on presentiments, and the accompanying
illustration, we extract from Boismont's work on hallucinations :

Much might be said concerning presentiments, but we forbear from entering
further on the subject. Unimpressionable and serious minds reject such doc-
trines, but sensitive persons believe in them. In most instances they are not
realized ; where they are borne out by the result, they consist either of remini-
scences or of a simple coincidence. Nevertheless, it is quite certain that any
unexpected event, any strong conviction, a constant restlessness, a change in
the habits, a sudden feeling of fear, may give rise to presentiments which it
would be unwise to reject with systematic incredulity. This view of the matter
seems to us in accordance with common sense, and with what is observed to
take place.

Presentiments are therefore explained, in a great many cases, by natural
causes ; yet, without being charged with a love of the marvelous, may we not
say that there are occurrences which seem to deviate from the ordinary course
of events, and at least depend upon relations — still most imperfectly known —
which exist between the spiritual and physical nature of man, on an exalted
condition of the nervous system, or are connected with that class of phenomena
which are included under magnetism and somnambulism ?

Mademoiselle R., who was possessed of an excellent understanding, and
who was religious without being bigotted, resided, before her marriage, with her
uncle, a medical man of eminence, and a member of th Institute. At this time
she wis at some distance from her mother, who lived in the country, and was
laboring under a dangerous disease. One night this young lady dreamed that
she beheld her mother, pale, melancholy, about to die, and lamenting that she
was not surrounded by her children, of whom one, the cure of a Parisian parish,
had emigrated to Spain, v.hile the other was at Paria. Presently she heard her
mother call her several times by her Christian name ; she saw, in her dreamt
the persons who surrounded her mother, and who, thinking that she was asking
for her grand-daughter of the same name, went into the next room to fetch her,
when the invalid made signs to them that it was her daughter who was in Paris,
and not her grand-daughter, whom she wished to see. Her look expressed the
greatest grief at her absence ; all at once her countenance changed ; it assumed
the pallor of death, and she sank down lifeless on her bed.

232

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

The next day, Mademoiselle R., seeming very much depressed, D. begged
her to tell him the cause of her grief. She related to him the particulars of her
dream, which weighed so heavily upon her spirits. D., finding her in this state
of mind, pressed her to his heart, and told her that the information was only too
true, for her mother was dead ; but he entered into no further explanations.

Some months after. Mademoiselle R., taking advantage of her uncle's
absence to put his papers in order, found a letter which had been laid aside.
What was her surprise on reading in it all the particulars which had passed in
her dream, and which D. had passed over in silence, being unwilling to cause
her further excitement when her mind was already so strongly affected.

CHAPTER IX.

MIND-READING.
Introduction by the Editor.

THIS term includes a class of phenomena which might, perhaps, have been
included under the more general term, telepathy. But there are some
lines of divergence sufficient to warrant the introduction of a special
chapter. In telepathy, as the term implies, the subject and agent are at a dis-
tance from each other. The phenomena of mind-reading, on the contrary,
occurs between persons in the presence of each other. Telepathy is more gen-
eral in the character of its impressions, and has more to do with the emotional
life. Mind-reading, on the other hand, has reference to the communication
of ideas and thoughts from one mind to another. It is, therefore, equivalent, or
nearly so, to thought-reading, thought-transference, and is doubtless included in
what the Scriptures style "discernment of spirits," upon which we shall include
in this chapter a paragraph.

The student of psychology is largely indebted to-day to the Society for
Psychical Research, of London, for initiating a series of patient, painstaking
experiments, under the best possible conditions, to demonstrate the truth of mind-
reading and kindred phenomena. He may not admit the value of every experi-
ment or the validity of every deduction, but he must read their records with a
very prejudiced mind if he withholds from the eminent men of that Society a
due meed ot praise for the courage with which they faced the prejudices of the
scientific world, and the industry, care and skill with which they have conducted
their many experiments.

For the following account of the workings of this Society, and the record of
their experiments given in this chapter, and for the illustrations used, we are
indebted to a very interesting work, "Mind-Reading and Beyond," by Wm. A.
Honey, the publishers of which, Messrs. Lee & Shepard, of Boston, having
very kindly granted us permission.

" From the recorded testimony of many competent witnesses, past and
present, including observations recently made by scientific men of eminence in
various countries, there appears to be, amidst much illusion and deception, an
important body of remarkable phenomena which are prima facie inexplicable
on any generally-recognized hypothesis, and which, if incontestibly established,
would be of the hi^^hest possible value."

This statement is found on the opening page of the first volume of the pro-
ceedings of the Society for Psychical Researcli (London), published in 1882.
The Society grew out of a conference held in London, January 6, 1882, and was

234

ijLimi'ses of the unseen.

definitely constituted on the 20tli of February followitif;. A programme for
future work was at once sketched out by the Council of the Society, in pursuance
of which the following subjects were entrusted to special committees:

I. An examination of the nature and extent of any influence which may be
exerted by one mind upon another, apart from any recognized mode of percep-
tion.

II. The study of hypnotism, and the forms of so-called mesmeric trance,
with its alleged insen:;ibility ♦lo pain ; clairvoyance and other allied phenomena.

III. A critical revision of Reichenbach's researches with certain organiza-
tions called "sensitive," and an inquiry whether such organizations possess any
power of perception beyond a highly exalted sensibility of the recognized sensory
organs.

IV. A careful investigation of any reports, resting on strong testimony,
regarding apparitions at the moment of death, or otherwise, or regarding dis-
turbances in houses reputed to be haunted.

V. An inquiry into the various physical phenomena commonly called
spiritual, with an attempt to discover their causes and general laws.

VI. The collection and collation of existing materials bearing on the history
of these subjects.

The Society declared that it was its aim to approach these various problems
without prejudice or prepossession of any kind, and in the same spirit of exact and
unimpassioned inquiry which has enal)led science to solve so many problems,
once not less obscure nor less hotly debated.

Considering the nature and scope of the work undertaken by this Society^
it becomes interesting to know who compose it and who are its leading spirits.
Professor Henry Sidgwick, of Trinity College, Cambridj:e, is President. There
are a number of Vice-Presidents ; among them, Professor W. F. Barrett, F.R.S.E.^
of the Royal College of Science, Dublin ; the Bishop of Carlisle ; Professor
Lord Rayleigh, F.R.S., of Cambridge ; and Professor Balfour Stewart, F.R.S.,
of the Owens College, Manchester. The Honorary Members are Professor].
C. Adams, LL.D, F.R.S., of the Cambridge (England) Observatory; Pro-
fessor Ruskin, LL.D., D.C.L. ; William Crookes, F.R.S. ; Lord (Alfred)
Tennyson ; Alfred Russell Wallace, F.R.G.S.; and G. F. Watts, R.A. Nicholas
M. Butler, of Columbia College, New York, and Rev. Dr. E. P. Thwing, of
Brooklyn, are named among the Corresponding Members. The list of members
includes four hundred names, in which the learned professions are very largely
represented, the nobility by no means infrequent, and the gentry abundant. An
examination of this list will convince anyone at all familiar with the names
of people prominent in science, in law, in the church, in medicine, in the army,
in literature, or in any other leading walk in life in England, that this Society is
made up of, and controlled by, as much g^enuine scientific ability and integrity

MIN1)-REAI)IN(;.

»3S

lolas
(g, of
Ibers

|geiy

An
imes

rny.
|y '*

jrity

as any leirned body in the kinj^dom. It seems necessary to dwell upon this
fact, because, in America, the investigation of these alleged phenomena has, so
far as the public has been aware, been in the hands of persons utterly unfitted
for scientific research, the greate. number of them ignorant enthusiasts, and not
a few practising deliberate swindling for purposes of gain. In England, the
work seems to have fallen into hands which may fairly be presumed to be
competent, and which certainly are honest ; and its results possess a value with
which that of the desultory, fragmentary and wholly disconnected efforts put
forth in this country bear no comparison.

In his address at the first general meeting of the Society, Professor Sidgwick,
the President, noting the fact that some question had been raised as to the need
of such an organization, gave expression to an idea that must have occurred to
many, although no one had, perhaps, previously reduced it to exact form. He
declared it to be nothing less than a scandil that the dispute as to the reality of
these alleged phenomena should still be going on, that so many competent wit-
nesses should have declared their belief in them, that so many should be pro-
foundly interested in having the question determined, and yet that the educated
world, as a body, should still be in the attitude of incredulity. And he went on
to say that the true aim of the Society was, and should be, to remove this
scandal in one way or another, to get at the actual facts, and make them known
to the world. That this should be the aim of all honest investigation, scientific
or otherwise, will not be questioned. It cannot concern itself with results until
they are at >ned. Its conclusions derive their value from the fact that they
cannot be foreseen by the investigators. The great object is to get at the truth,
and certainly truth is something which no one need be ashamed to seek.

The performances of such men as Stuart Cumberland, Mr. Bishop, Mr.
Covey, and others, in finding lost articles or going through prescribed journeys
after coming into physical contact with the subject by grasping his hand, or other-
wise, are now entirely discarded as having no scientific value. These perform-
ances, however perplexing they may be to the uninitiated, are clearly cases of
muscle-reading, and not mind-reading, and due to the involuntary muscular
activity of the subject whose mind is intent on the direction indicated or the
object to be found. Multitudes of amateur experimenters have succeeded in
repeating these performances, which are more curious than valuable as evidence.

We quote again from " Mind-Reading and Beyond" further accounts of the
proceedings of the Committee of the Society for Psychical Research on mind-
reading :

Hesitation in accepting any facts so novel, and, in many ways, suspicious,
as mind-reading, is, of course, perfectly justifiable ; and we are quite prepared to
expect much criticism and prolonged experiment before any generalization from
the facts can meet with wide acceptance. Our own researches have now ex-

236

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

tended over a period of several years, and we have witnessed phenomena of
more or less interest in a great variety of subjects. Broadly speaking, these
phenomena may be grouped under the following heads :

I. Where some action is performed, the hands of the operator being in
gentle contact with the subject of the experiment.

II. Where a similar result is obtained with the hands not in contact.

III. Where a number, name, word or card has been guessed and expressed
in speech or writing, without contact, and apparently without the possibility of
the transmission of the idea by the ordinary channels of sensation.

IV. Where similar thoughts have simultaneously occurred, or impressions
been made, in minds far apart.

V. Whenever the hands are in contact) or even communicate by a tense
cord with the subject of the experiment, it is almost impossible to exclude giving
faint indications to the guesser, which, with a sensitive subject, are interpreted
into a sense of Tightness or wrongness that ultimately may l^ad them to the hid-
den object, " the communication," as Dr. Carpenter remarks, "being made by
unconscious muscular action on the part of one person, and automatically inter-
preted by the other." The most familiar illustration of this is found in the ivilling
i^anie, which may be described in Dr. Carpenter's words as follows: "Several
persons being assembled, one of them leaves the room, and, during his absence,
some object is hidden. On the absentee's re-entrance, two persons who know
the hiding-place stand one on either side of him, and establish some personal
contact with him, one method being to place one finger on the shoulder, while
another is for each to place a hand on his body. He walks about the room
between the two "willers," and generally succeeds before long in finding the
hidden object, being led towards it, as careful observation and experiment have
fully proved, by the involuntary muscular action of his unconscious guides, one
or the other of them pressing more heavily when the object is on his side, and
the finder as involuntarily turning towards that side.*

This well-known explanation doubtless accounts for very much that is wit-
nessed in family circles, and which goes under the name of thought-reading. At
the same time there is a difficulty in applying it to those cases wherein the subject
has frequently failed to accomplish a simple task, and yet has accurately done a
much more complicated one, often with singular promptness and decision.

The members of the Conmittee conducted a series of experiments which
came under the first head, that is, with contact between the person " willing " and
the person doing the thing " wi'led." The following is the account of these, as
given by Professor W. V. Barrett, Professor of Physics in the Royal College
of Science, Dublin :

•Carpenter's " Mesmerism, Spiritualism," etc., p. 54.

MIND-READING.

237

wit-

)ject

me a

Ihich
and
as
liege

The first case is a sample of the ordinary willing game, that came under
my notice in Easter, 1877.

Expt. I. — The subject in this case was a young medical man, and the
friends present were mostly medical men, skeptical of the operation of any agency
beyond involuntary muscular action. The experiments were made in the house
of a distinguished surgeon, Mr. Lawson Tait. A paper-knife was placed by
myself on the top of a folding screen, during the subject's absence from the room.
On recalling him, two friends clasped hands around the subject's waist; he then
closed his eyes, walked irresolutely to the spot, and took off the paper-knife,
placing it on the table. Here involuntary guidance to the spot mr.y be assumed,
but it is difficult to understand what should have made him lift up his hands sud-
denly and feel for an object out of sight. No indication of what was to be foui.a
was given beforehand.

Expt. 2. — The same subject again left the room, one of the number ascer-
taining that he was quite beyond eye or ear-shot. This time we willed that he
should move the fire-screen and double it back. On re-entering, my host, the
surgeon, clasped him as before, and, after a few moments of indecision, he went
towards the spot and did as we had wished.

Expt. 3. — This time we fixed that the subject should turn out the gas
of a particular bracket, one c^ several round the room. Loosely held round the
waist, the subject in a few minutes went to the spot, lifted up his hands and turned
off the gas.

These three experiments are of interest, inasmuch as In each one the hands
had to be lifted up, muscles being used distant from the part in contact with the
willers. Similar results were obtained in July, 1877, Miss R. as the subject.
One example will suffice.

Expt. 4. — During the absence of the subject, it was agreed that a mark
should be made with a pencil round a sixpence, which happened to be lying near
a sheet of paper on the table, before the subject left the room. In this case the
hands of the willers were placed round Miss R.'s neck, and the action fixed upon
silently willed. In a few moments Miss R. walked to the table, took up a pencil
and deliberately made a mark round the sixpence.

A long series of experiments, extending over several days, in May, 1879,
were made by me with another subject. In this case, the sister of the lady
seemed to have the most power over her. Among numerous trials that were
made, the following may be quoted :

Expt. 5. — In her absence, the subject was willed to take up a little agate
jewel-box, standing with some twenty other small objects on a shelf, put it inside
a certain covered jar in another part of the room, re-open the jar, remove the
ornament and hand it to one of the friends present. This was done swiftly and
correctly, to the smallest detail.

938

GMMl'SKS OF THE UNSKEN.

lixpt. 6. — Selected notes on the piano were four times in succession cor-
rectly struck. Here, and in Kxpt. 5, the hands gently touched the head. In
some of the next experiments the hands did not actually touch.

Jixp/. 7. — Certain books, in a bookcase (containinji; some one hundred vol-
umes), were chosen by me in the absence of the subject. In six consecutive
trials the right book was taken down.

Out of a total of one hundred and thirty trials with this subject, of whiv.h the
foregoing are fair samples, about one hundred were correctly performed. In-
stead of giving the details of all these experiments, I may be permitted to sum-
marize them by saying that, while in very many cases the muscular sense might
have been a sufficient explanation, there were many others, very carefully
tested, which could not easily be so explained, and which pointed in the direction
of something new — such, for example, as mind-reading— as their only satisfactory
explanation. In fact, the intervention of a second person (who was entirely
ignorant of what had to be done) between the wilier and the subject, the hands
of each resting on the shoulders of the one in front, did not seriously interfere
with the results obtained. Under such conditions difficult things were correctly
done, involving complicated muscular actions, whilst we failed to do similar, and
even much simpler, things under the influence of deliberate, conscious guidance.

Besides these cases, we have received evidence of similar performances in
private families in different parts of England — at Southampton, Southport, Ciren-
cester, Yarmouth, Cork, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Norwich, etc. In all these cases
we are greatly indebted to our informants, to whom we have given considerable
trouble in correspondence ; but none of these cases were of such a nature as to
justify a personal visit, and, moreover, the hypothesis of muscle-reading might,
i>riin(i facie, be taken to account for many of them. Two cases, however, one in
London and one on the south coast, seemed deserving of more careful inquiry. In
these, as in all the other cases recorded, the subjects freely placed themselves in
our hands, a kindness we desire gratefully to acknowledge, regretting the unrv^i-
quited trouble we have given them.

The case in London — that of Miss C. — has been investigated by each of
the members of the Committee on thouj^ht-reading. Here is the record of four
typical experiments, made by Mr. Myers on November 30 and December 7, 1877.

The mother of the young lady placed three of her fingers, not including the
thumb, on the back of Miss C.'s head, the fingers resting apparently quite
lightly.

lixpt. I. — I drew on a piece of paper a rouj,i;h sketch of a house, and showed
the sketch to Mrs. C. Miss C.'s head was averted the whole time; no look was
interchanged between her and Mrs. C; no other part of their persons was in
contact. No one but Mrs. C. saw the drawing. I watched Mrs. C.'s fingers
closely, in full gaslight; they seemed to rest lightly on Miss C.'s head; no

cor-
In

^ch of
four
I1877.
Igthe
jquite

)wed
was
las in

igers
no

MIND-RKADINC.

«39

signals perceptible. The dravvinpivvas rudely re-produced, as thou<;li by a person
drawing; in the dark, one of the windows bein;; drawn outside the outline of the
house.

Expt. 2. — I wrote a sentence, and showed it to Mrs. C, takinj; care that
Miss C. should not see it. Miss C. then wrote it under the same conditions as
above. I chose sentences in foreign languages, that guidance might be less easy.

Tu regere impcrio.
Se dejo proidcr.
These were correctly written.

Expt. 3. — Miss C. then pushed up her sleeve. Mrs. C. placed three
fingers on Miss C.'s arm, above the elbow, and in like manner Miss C. wrote
(without having previously seen the words) :

Vabna.
This man.

Expt. 4. — The Greek words t>-t6\i and wa^ were then written, under the same
conditions. They were very rudely written, but each letter was distinguishable'

We now come to the second class: where actions are performed without
contact with the person ivilling. Under this head the Committee say : Here the
involuntary guidance by the eyes of the rest of the party, or other indications of
an almost imperceptible character, are swiftly, and probably unconsciously, in-
terpreted by the guesser, and lead iiim, hesitating, to do what is being willed.
The doubtful interpretation of the best results obtained in this group comjielled
the Committee, who were determined never to give the phenomena, as such, the
benefit of any doubt, to attach comparatively little importance to them.

Jhe third group covers cases where some number, word or card has been
guessed apparently without any of the ordinary means of communication between
the wilier and the guesser. Under this head the Committee say :

Though t^he errors arising from muscle-reading or involuntary guidance are
here avoided, there are other sources of conscious or unconscious illusion to be
guarded against. Collusion is one of the most obvious; and anyone who has
witnessed what can be done by a code of signals, such as is employed by Mr.
Bishop, or Mr. Heller, or Mr. Heiiot with ** Louie," will naturally distrust all
observations where two particular persons are necessary for the results obtained.
Imperceptible information may be given by one who knows the words selected
by means of the Morse code used in electric telegraphy, the long and short signs
being readily communicated by sight, sound or touch, as may be found re(}uisite.
And where collusion is out of the cjuestion, an obvious danger lies in low whis-
pering, or even soundless movement of the lips ; whilst the faintest accent of
approval or disapproval in question or comment may give a hint as to whether
tiie effort is tending in the right direction, and thus guide to the mark by sue-

t40

GLIMPSES OK TIIK UNSIiEN.

ccssive approximations. Any cxliihitioii of the kind before a proini^cuous
company is nearly sure to be vitiated by one or other of these sources of error.
It is ol)vious, in fact, that precision can only be obtained l)y repeated experi-
mentation in a Hmited circle of persons known to each other, and amenable to
scientific control.

In the correspondence received there was one case which seemed, upon
inquiry, to be free from 'duy priiiia /(,cie objections, and ajiparently indicative of
true tll()U,t,'ht-rcadinJ^^ It was that of a family in Derbyshire, with whom the
Committee had the op|)ortunity of fretjuent and prolon<;cd trials. This family
resided in Buxton, and was that of a Mr. Creery, a clergyman of unblemished
character, and whose integrity had, it so happened, been exceptionally tested.
He had a family of five girls, ranging, at that time (1882), between the ages of
ten and seventeen, all thoroughly healthy as free as possible from morbid or
hysterical symptoms, and in manner perfectly simple and childlike.

Concerning Mr. Creery's family and the experiments with the daughters,
the Committee say:

During the year which has elapsed since we first heard of this family, seven
visits, mostly of several days' duration, have been paid to the town where they
live by ourselves and several scientific friends, and on these occasions daily
experiments have been made.

The inquiry has taken place partly in Mr. Creery's house, and partly in
lodgings or in a private room of an hotel, occupied by some of our number.
Having selected at random one child, whom we desired to leave the room and
wait at some distance, we would choose a card from a pack, or write on paper a
number or a name which occurred to us at the moment. Generally, but not
always, this was shov/n to the members of the family present in the room ; but
no one member was always present, and we were sometimes entirely alone. We
then recalled the child, one of us always assuring himself that, when the door
was suddenly opened, she was at a considerable distance (in their own house, at
the further end of a passage), though this was usually a superfluity of caution,
as our habit was to avoid all utterance of what was chosen. Before leaving the
room, the child had been informed of the general nature of the test we intended
to select, as "this will be a card," or " this will be a name." On re-entering,
she stood — sometimes turned by us with her face to the wall, oftener with her
eyes directed towards the ground, and usually close to us and remote from her
family — for a period of silence varying from a few seconds to a minute, till she
called out to us some number, card or whatever it might be. If this was incor-
rect, we usually allowed a second trial, and occasionally a third.

To give an example: The following results were obtained on the evening
of April 12, in the presence of two of our number and the family. The first
attempt of one of the children was to state (without searching) the hiding-place

Iring,

her

she

kcor-

Ining
1 first
[lace

MINI) RK A 1)1 NT,.

«4»

of some small object, the place havin<^ bo(Mi chosen l>y ourselves, with the full

ranj^e of the house, aiul then cotiiinunicated to the oth(-'r ineinhtrs of the family.
This was i^ffected in one case only out of four. The next attempt was to j^ive
the name of some familiar object aj^reed on in the child's absence, as sponge,
pepper-castor, etc. This was successful on a first trial in six cases out of four-
teen. We then chose a card from a full pack in the child's absence, and called
'ipon her to n;une it on her return. This was successful at once in six cases out
of thirteen. We then tried holding' small objects in the hand — as a latch-key, a
half sovereign, a j^^reen ball — which were at once rijjjhtly nained in five cases
out of six. A harder trial was now introduced. The maid-ser\ant having; left
the room, one of us wrote down the name " Michael Davitt," showed it lound,
and then put the paper in his pocket. The door was now opened, and the girl
recalled from the end of the passage. She stood close to the door amid absolute
silence, and with her eyes on the ground — all of us meanwhile fixing our atten-
tion on the ai)iK)inted name — and gave, after a few seconds, the name *• Michael,"
and then, almost immediately, '* Davitt." To avoid any association of ideas,
we then chose imaginary name, made up by ourselves at the moment, a3
'* vSamuel Morns," "John Thomas Parker," " Phdibe Wilson." The names
were given correctly /// toto at the first trial in hve cases out of ten. Three cases
were complete faikires, and in two the names given bore a strong resemblance to
those selected by us — "Jacob Williams" being given as '* Jacob Wild," and
♦'Emily Walker" as "'Enry Walker."

The second series of experiments, which, we venture to think, are unexcep-
tionable, were made by Mr. Myers and Mr. Gurney, together with two ladies
who were entire strangers to the family. None of the family knew what we had
selected, the type of the thing being told only to the child chosen to guess. The
experimenters took every precaution in order that no indication, however slight,
should reach the child. She was recalled by one of the experimenters and
stood near the door with downcast eyes. In this way the following results were
obtained. The thing selected is printed in italics, and the only words spoken
during the experiment are put in parentheses :

Experiments made on April 13, 1882.
Objects to be named.

A white penknife. — Correctly named, with the color, the first trial.

Box of almonds. — Correctly named.

Threepenny piece. — Failed.

Box of chocolate. — Button-box said ; no second trial given.

Penknife hidden. — Failed to name the place.

242

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Numbers to be named.

Five. — Correctly given the first trial.
Fourtjen. — Failed.

Thirty-three.—S4 (No); 34 (No); 33 (Right).
Sixty-eight.— 5S (No); 57 (No); 78 (No).

Fictitious names to be guessed.

Martha Billings. — Failed ; Biggis was said.
Catherine Smitn. — Catherine Shaw said.
Henry Coivper. — Failed.

Cards to be named.

Two of clubs. — Right first time.

Queen of diamonds. — Right first time.

Four of spades. — Failed.

Four of hearts. — Right first time.

Kiui:! of hearts. — Right first time.

Two of diamonds. — Right first time.

Ace of hearts. — Right first time.

Nine of spades. — Right first time.

J^ive o_f diamonds. — Four of diamonds (No); Four of hearts (No); Five of
diamonds (Right).

Two of spades. — Right first time.

Eight of diamonds. — Ace of diamonds said; no second trial given.

yiirce of hearts. — Right first time.

/^"ive of clubs. — Failed.

Ace of spades. — Failed.

The chances against success in the case of any one card are, of course,
fifty-one to one, assuming that there is no such thing as thought-reading, and
that errors of experiment are avoided. Special precautions were taken to avoid
such errors of experiment as are described by Dr. Beard, and the results show
that, in the case of cards, out of fourteen successive trials nine were gues?ed
rightly the first time, and onl}' three trials can be said to have been complete
failures. On none of these occasions was it even remotely possible for the child
to obtain by any ordinary means a knowledge of the card selected. Our own
facial expression was the only index open to her; and even if we had not pur-
posely looked as neutral as, possible, it is difficult to imagine how we could have
unconsciously carried, say, the two of diamonds written on our foreheads.

Now, if we apply to these two sets of experiments the sources of error enum-
erated by Dr. Beard, the conclusion, we venture to think, is inevitable that we
have here very strong evidence in favor of a ckiss of phenomena entirely new to
science. Involuntary actions, such as movement of the lips, etc., could not reach

luin-
\ve
Iv to

tach

MIND READING.

243

the child when she was out of si^ht and hearing, as was the case in the first
series of experiments. Conscious or unconscious deception on the part of the sub«
ject does not apply, as the thing wished for was selected and written down by
one of us. Collusion by a third party is avoided by the fact that none were
allowed to enter ot leave the room after we had selected the thing to be guessed,
and in the second series ot experiments by the exclusion of all members of the
family, either from the room, or from participation in the requisite knowledge ;
whilst chance and coincidence we have already dealt with. In many trials, such
as the guessing of fictitious names, made up by us on the spur of the moment,
the chances against success were, of course, incalculable ; yet, as will be seen by
the following record taken from our last day's experimenting, these names were
guessed with as much ease as cards, where the chances against success were far
'ess.

Another series of very interesting experiments with this family is given,
extending over six days. In these the thing selected was known to the family,
who, however, never left their places after the word had been written down and
silently handed round, or a card drawn, exposed and returned to the pack in
absolute silence. The child was then recalled by one of the company and, as
before, stood in complete silence near the door, no sowuls or movements or inter-
rogatory remarks of any kind, by anyone, being permitted. There were present
Mr. Gurney, Mr. Myers and the family.

The following is the summarized result as given :

In estimating our successes and failures, partial success is counted as a
failure; thus, seven of diamonds given instead of eight of diamonds, is counted
wrong, and so in the names — Wilson given instead of VVillis, and Grover instead
of Snelgrove, are counted as failures.

The outline of results during the present investigation, which extended over
six days, stands as follows: Altogether 382 trials were made. In the case of
letters of the alphabet, of cards and of numbers of two figures, the chances
against succes- on a first trial would naturally be 25 to i, 51 to i and 89 to i,
respectively ; in the case of surnames they would, of course, be indefinitely
greater. Cards were most frequently employed, and the odds in their case may
be taken as a fair medium sample ; according to which, out of the whole series of
382 trials, the average number of successes at the first attempt by an ordinary
guesser would be 7^. Of our trials, 127 were successes on the first attempt, 56
on the second, 19 on the third, making 202 in all. On most of the occasions of
failure — 180 in number — second trials were made; but in some cases the guesser
professed inability, and declined to make more than one, and in others we allowed
three ; no trial beyond the third was ever allowed. During the last day or two
of trial, after it had occurred to us to notice the point, we found that of the
failures to guess a card at the lirst trial, those wrong both in suit and number
were a small minority.

344

(GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Ri. t

Our most striking piece of success, when the thing selected was divulged to
none of the family, was five cards running named correctly on a first trial ; the
odds against this happening once in our series were considerably over a million
to one. We had altogether a good many similar batches, the two longest runs
being eight consecutive successes — once with cards and once with names; where
the adverse odds in the former case were over one hundred and forty-two millions
to one, and in the latter something incalculably greater. If we add to these
results others obtained on previous visits, it seems not too much to say that the
hypothesis of mere coincidence is practically excluded.

Professor Balfour Stewart, LL.D., F.R.S., Professor of Physics at the
Owens College, Manchester, made independent experiments with this family.
He says: We paid two visits to the house. In the first instance, the thought-
reader was outside a door. The object or thing thought of was v/ritten on
paper and silently handed round to the company in the room. The thought-
reader was then called in, and in the course, perhaps, of a minute the answer
was given. Definite objects in the room, for instance, were first thought of, and
generally the answer was right. Then cards were thought of, and in the
majority of cases the answer was correct. Then numbers were thought of, and
the answers were generall}' right ; but, of course, there were some cases of error.
Then names of towns were thought of, and a good many of these were right.
Then fancy names were thought of. When my colleague. Professor Ilopkinson,
had gone away, I was asked to think of certain fancy names, and mark them
down and hand them round to the company. I then thought of, and wrote on
paper, " Blue-beard," "Tom Thumb," " Cinderella," and the answers were all
correct. I think it was the servant who answered " Cinderella." There was
some hesitation in getting her to pronounce the name, as she seemed to think
she did not know it.

After the first visit, one of my colleagues at Owens College remarked that
it would be more conclusive if the thought-reader, instead of turning her face to
the company, turned her face to the wall ; and that was accordingly done on
the second occasion. The percentage of success was about as large as in the
first instance. In one case, while the thought-reader remained behind the door,
a card was chosen. I chose the "ace of hearts," and the paper on which it was
written down was handed round to the company. The thought-reader in a few
moments called out, " Ace of hearts ! "

Mr. Turner, a medical man residing in Buxton, at the request of Mr
Creery, conducted some experiments, which he thus records :

With a friend, who appends his signature to these notes, which are copied
from those taken on the moment, I visited the Rev. A. M, Creery on February
18, 1882, for the purpose of witnessing the power of thought-reading possessed
by his children. In the absence of Mr. Creery, I made an attempt to test the

hem

that
ce to
on
the
oor,
was
few

iMr

)ied

lary

ised

the

MIND READING.

^45

children's power, and with the following results, roughly chronicled, I know, and
imperfect as a searching test, but accurate as to the results obtained

Miss Alice Creery.

Expt. I. — What do I hold in my hand? Answer. — Spectacles. (Describe
them). Eyeglasses. [I had Mr. Orme's eyeglasses concealed in my hand].

Expt. 2. — What do I hold in my hand? Ansiver. — Piece of paper. (No).
Knife. (Describe it). It is white. (Describe further). It has a toothpick and
button-hook. (Correct; it had other implements useful to a smoker).

Expt. 3. — What do I hold in my hand? Answer. — A ring. (Describe it).
Has a buckle on it. (Correct).

Miss Maud Creery.

Expt. I. — What town have we thought of? Ansii'er. — Buxton. (Correct).

Expt. 2. — What town have we thought of? Answer. — Derby. (What part
did you first think of ?) Railway station. (So did I. Next?) The market-
place. (So did I).

Expt. 3. — What town have we thought of? Answer. — Something com-
mencing with L. [Pause of a minute]. Lincoln. (Correct).

Expt. 4. — What town have we thought of? Answer. — Stockport. (Correct).

Expt. 5. — What town have we thought of? Ansiver. — Fairfield. (What
part did you think of first ?) The road to it. (So did I). (What part next ?)
The triangular green behind the Bull's Head Inn. (So did I).

Jane Dean, the maid-servant.

Expt. I. — What do I take hold of in my pocket ? Answer. — Spectacle-case.
(Does it contain anything?) It's empty. (Correct).

Expt. 2. — What have I placed under the piano ? Answer. — A key. (What
is it the key of?) A club. [One and one-half minutes' pause] . No. The key
of the Asylum. [It was the key of the Asylum grounds. No one knc.v that I
had a private key; I am not officially connected with the Asylum].

Expt. 3. — What have we agreed to think of ? Answer. — A flower.
(What is the name of the flower?) [Slight hesitation, then answered]. Lily ot
the valley. (No). [Immediately pointed to some flowers in Mr. Orme's coat].
Snowdrop. (Correct).

Expt. i\. — What have I in my hand? Answer. — A pin. (What color ?)
Black. (What shape ?) [Bending her index finger and thumb into the shape
of the letter C, she said]. That shape. [Unknown to anyone I had bent it to
that shape].

Expt. 5. — What card have I selected? Answer. — Seven of hearts. (No).
Eight of hearts. (Correct. Which way is the point of the heart directed ?)
Upwards. (Correct).

Expt. 6. — What card have I selected ? Ansiver. — Nine of spades. (Correct.
Which way is the point of the spade directed ?) Downwards. (Correct).

<i'

•46

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

No one knew of the previous card except Mr. Orme. No one knew of the
second card except myseh".

Fredk. Turner, M.R.C.S., Grafton House, Buxton*
John H. Orme, Solicitor, Buxton.
July 14, 1882.

The fourth head comprises cases where similar thoughts have simultaneously
occurred, or impressions been made in minds far apart, without any known means
of communication.

Several cases of this kind have reached us, but they rest upon the testimony
of others, and though we have no reason to doubt the accuracy of our informants,
the evidence was necessarily a lower rank than the preceding. The following
cases may be taken as a sample of other statements that have come to our
knowledge. We are acquainted with, but not at liberty to publish, the names
in the first case, which is related by the wife of General R. .

"On September g, 1848, at the siege of Mooltan, Major-General R-

C.B., then adjutant of his regiment, was most severely and dangerously wounded,
and, supposing himself dying, asked one of the officers with him to take the ring
off his finger and send it to his wife, who at the time was fully 150 miles
distant, at Ferozepore.

On the night of September g, 1848, I was lying en my bed, between sleeping
and waking, when I distinctly saw my husband being carried off the field, seri-
ously wounded, and heard his voice, saying: 'Take this ring ofif my finger, and
send it lo my wife.' All the next day I could not get the sight or the voice out

of my mind. In due time I heard of General R having been severely

wounded in the assault on Mooltan. He survived, however, and is still living.

It was not for some time after the siege that I heard from Colonel L , the

officer who helped to cairv General R off the field, that the request as to

the ring was actually made to him, just as I had heard it at Ferozepore at that
very time. — M. A. R."

"Leslie Lodge, Ealing, W., Oct. 10, 1876.

Dear Sir, — The circumstance about which you incjuire is as follows : I
had left my house, ten miles from London, in the morning as usual, and in the
course of the day was on my way to Victoria Street, Westminster, having
reached Buckingham Palace, when, in attempting to cross the road, recently
made muddy and slippery by the water-cart, I fell, and was nearly run over by
a carriage coming in an opposite direction. The fall and the fright shook me
considerably, but beyond tliat I was uninjured. On reaching home I found my
wife waiting- anxiously, and this is what she related to me: She was occupied
wiping a cup in the kitchen, which she suddenly dropped, exclaiming: * My
God! he's hurt.' Mrs. S., who was near her, heard the cry, and both agreed as
to the details of time and so forth. I have often asked my wife why she cried

the
nng
itly

by
ime
Imy
]ied
|My
as

ied

xMiNi^ ri:ai);ng.

247

out, Iju! she is unable to explain the state of her feelings beyond saying : ' I don'c
know why; I felt some great danger was near you.' These are simple facts, but
other things more puzzHng have happened in connection with the singular intui-
tions of my wife.

Yours truly,

T. W. Smith."

The next case is more remarkable ; our informant is a medical man, Mr. C.
Ede, of Guildford, to whom the incident was related both by Lady G. and her
sister.

'• Lady G. and her sister had been spending the evening with their mother*
who was in her usual health and spirits when they left her. In the middle of
the night the sister awoke in a flight, and said to her husband: 'I must go to
my mother at once ; do order the carriage. I am sure she is taken ill.' The
husband, after trying in vain to convince his wife that it was only a fancy,
ordered the carriage. As she was approaching her mother's house, where two
roads meet, she saw Lady G.'s carriage. When they met, each asked the other
why she was there. The same reply was made by both. 'I could not sleep,
feeling sure my mother was ill, and so I came to see.' As they came in sight of
the house, they saw their mother's confidential maid at the door, who toid them,
when they arrived, that their mother had been taken suddenly ill, and was
dying, and had expressed an earnest wish to see her daughters."

The following interesting letter from Mr. Ede accompanied this narrative:

'*WoNERSH Lodge, < titildford, Surrey, Aug. 29, 1877.

Dear Sir, — The foregoing incident was told to me as a simple narrative
of what happened, both by Lady G. and her sister. The mother was a lady of
strong will, and always had great influence over her daughters.

I myself have been persuaded that impressions and thoughts might be
transmitted by the action of a powerful will upon sensitive brains at a distance, by
some experiments which I made in mesmerism, being at first a strong disbeliever
in all these things, and only convinced when testing the assertions of others.
There must, it would seem, be some previous relation between the two brains,
as in states of anxiety for the absent, or powerful longing. May not a material
vibration in a strong brain affect another by its vibration, as light at a distance
acts upon the retina of the eye, or sound upon the ear ? We know that many
sounds escape us if our attention be not directed to them, and, likewise, many
objects may not be perceived. It is curious, in the case of Lady G. and her
sister, that both impressions were made in the night, when the attention was not
diverted by surrounding sights or sounds.

This may have had some connection with the following incident which
happened to myself lately. There is a house about half a mile from my own

!i 1 '

(1 ■ 1

1 ! ]

': 1 I'M

1 if

1 1 '

ilu Ij

iH i

lliil

a48

GLIMPSES OF THI-: UNSKKN.

inhabited by some ladies, friends of oui family. They have a lar<:;e alarm bell
outside their house. One night I awoke suddenly and said to my wife: ' I am
sure I hear Mrs. F.'s alarm bell ringing.' After listening for some time wo
heard nothing, and I went to sleep again. The next day Mrs. F. called upon
my wife, and said to her : * We were wishing for your husband last night, for
we were alarmed by thieves. We were all up, and I was about to pull the alarm
bell, hoping he would hear it, saying to my daughters, I am sure it will soon
bring }our husband, but we did not ring it.' My wife asked what time it was;
Mrs. F. said it was about half-past one. That was the time I awoke, thinking 1
heard the bell.

I could also give you many i'i"tances of the communication to another of a
strong wish on my part, although unuttered, and unaccompanied by any gesture,
or hint by look or action. I have often been amused at a concert, or other
place of meeting, to single out some person who has their back to me, and will
them to turn thei": head in a given direction towards me, and generally I suc-
ceed, it is common enough to have the same thoughts spoken by two people
simultaneously, but, though the previous conversation might often suggest like
ideas, I think it would not be difficult to sift out the cases of direct mental
impressions from those of coincidence, suggestion, or sequence of thought
arising from surrounding causes. When I have been strongly wishing to see a
friend, it constantly happens that he appears. May not the many extraordinary
cases of apparitions be but the mentfl pictures produced by other minds on a
sensitive subject ? There is a well-known case recorded in the Colonial papers

which supports this view.

Yours truly,

Charles Ede."

Professor Barrett, in a separate paper submitted to this Society, says :
Interesting and able articles on thought-reading have recently appeared in
the Spectator, together with several letters on the subject. The turm " will-
impression," rather than thought-reading, is proposed by one correspondent in
the Spectator, and with much justice; the Committee have accepted the ordinary
phraseology simply because it has come into general use Among the letters in
the Spectator the following may be cited :

" I had one day been spending the morning in shopping, and returned by
train just in time to sit down with my children to our early family dinner. My
youngest child — a sensitive, quick-witted little maiden of two years and six
weeks old — was one of the circle. Dinner had just commenced, when I sud-
denly recollected an incident in my morning's experience which 1 had intended to
tell her, and I looked at the child with the full intention of saying: ' Mother saw
fi big, black dog in a shop, with curly hair,' catching her eyes in mine, as I
paused an instant before speaking. Just then something called off my attention.

in
mIU

in
|aiy

MIND READING.

249

and the sentence was not uttered. What was my amazement, about two minutes
afterwards, to hear my Httle lady announce : ' Mother saw a bij^ do^ in a shop.'
I gasped. 'Yes I did,' I answered ; ' but how did you know?' * With funny
hair,' she added, quite calmly, and ignoring my question. ' What color was it,
Evelyn? ' said one of her elder brothers ; * was it black ? ' She said : 'Yes.'

Now, it was simply impossible that she could have received any hint of the
incident verbolly; I had had no friend with me when I had seen the dog. All
the children had been at home, in our house in the country, four miles from the
town ; I had returned, as I said, just in time for the children's dinner, and I had
not even remembered the circumstance until the moment when I fixed my eyes
upon my little daughter's. We have had in our family circle numerous examples
of spiritual or mental insight or foresight; but this, I think, is decidedly the
most remarkable that has ever come under my notice.

I am, Sir, etc.,

Caroline Barber.

Sheffield, June 22."

The second report of the Committee on Thought-transference was sub-
mitted to the Society December 9, 1882. It was as follows:

The first Report of the Committee on Thought-reading, presented to the
Society on July 17, 1882, established, as we venture to affirm, the following
conclusions ;

(i). That much of what is popularly known as " thought-reading " is in
reality due to the interpretation by the so-called " reader" of signs, consciously
or unconsciously imparted by the touches, looks or gestures of those present;
and that this is to be taken as the -prima facie explanation, whenever the thing
thought of is not some visible or audible object, but some action or movement
to be performed.

(2). That there does exist a group of phenomena to which the word
"thought-reading," or, as we prefer to call it, "thought-transference," maybe
fairly applied ; and which consist in the mental perception, by certain individuals
at certain times, of a word or other object kept vividly before the mind of
another person or persons, without any transmission of impresrion through tlm
recognized channels of sense.

On April 24th, 1884, the Committee of the Society for Psychical Research
on Thought-transference submitted a third report. The Committee had been
enlarged, and consisted of Edmund Gurney, M.A., late Fellow of Trinity Col-
lege, Cambridge; F. W. H. Meyers, M.A., late Fellow of Trinity College,
Cambridge; F. Podmore, M.A., and Prof. Barrett.

After a brief reference to the former experiments, the report goes on to say:
"We have now to record a further extension ©f our enquiry in 'this direction, the

■l

as©

OMMI'SliS OF THE UNSEEN.

experiments being made under conditions still more strinp^ent than those at first
imposed. . . . They were made by Mr. Blackburn, with Mr. Smitli as
percipient, under direction of the Committee in Brif^hton, be«i[inning January
iQih and continuing for three or four days in succession. The following is the
account of the modus operandi as detailed by the Committee :

The percipient, Mr. Smith, is seated blindfolded at a table in our own
room; a paper and pencil arc within his reach, and a member of the Committee
is seated by h.is side. Another member of the Committee leaves the room, and
outside the closed door draws soine figure at random. Mr. Blackburn, who, so
far, has remained in the room with Mr. Smith, is now called out, and the door
closed ; the drawing is then held before him for a few seconds, till its impression
is stamped upon his mind. Theii, "losing his eyes, Mr. Blackburn is led back
into the room and placed standing or sitting behind Mr. Smith, at a distance of
some two feet from him. A brief period of intense mental concentration on Mr.
Blackburn's part now follows. I'resently Mr. Smith takes up the pencil amidst
the unbroken and absolute silence of all present, and attempts to reproduce on
paper the impression he has gained. He is allowed to do as he pleases as
regards the bandage round his eyes ; sometimes he pulls it down before he
begins to draw; but if the figures be not distinctly present to his mind, he prefers
to let it remain on, and draw fragments of the figure as they are perceived.
During all this time, Mr. Blackburn's eyes are, generally, firmly closed (some-
times he requests us to bandage his eyes tightly as an aid to concentration), and
except wlien it is distinctly recorded, lie has not touched Mr. Smith, and has
not gone in front of him, or in any way within his possible field of vision, since
he re-entered the room.*

When Mr. Smith has drawn what he can, the original drawing, which has
so far remained outside the room, is brought in and compared with the repro-
duction. Both are marked by the Committee and put away in a secure place.
The drawings and reproductions given in this volume are in every case fac-similes
of the untouched originals. *

Out of the total of thirty-seven, only eight experiments can be put down as
unsuccessful, Mr. Smith in four cases failing to see anything, and in four cases
giving so imperfect a representation that it might be called a failure. The first
four figures were obtained after Mr. Blackburn had for a few miuutes grasped
Mr. Smith's hand — a procedure to which they were accustomed — as a supposed
aid to Mr. Smith in visualizing Mr. Blackburn's mental picture. We, however,
could allow no exception to our cardinal axiom on this subject, that no experi-
ment where contact of any sort is allowed can be decisive ; and though in the

•This precaution was not attended to in the experiments of one afternoon ; but these experiments, and these alonei
are omitted from the series discussed below, as having been rendered nugatory through accidental circumstances which
were calculated to exercise, and obviously did exercise, a distracting etTect on Mr. Blackburn's mind.

has
f pro-
lace.

liles

llonei
l/hich'

MINI) READING.

25'

present instance the drawings were of sucli an irregular character that their
description would have been extremely difficult to convey by imperceptible
tracing or by an.y subtle code of pressuiv -signs, yet, assumin.; Mr. Hlackburn
and Mr. Smith to have been in collusion, the hypothesis was at least conceivable.
Accordingly, we reciuested Mr. Blackburn to dispense altogether with tiic pre-
liminary contact ; and it must be understood that all the rest of the succcssiul
drawings (with the exception of two, not here reproduced, and of b'ig. 13'' as
explained) were done without any contact whatever, in the manner already
indicated. Down to Fig. g we had made rude geometrical drawing^s ; at this
point, one member of the Committee, without giving the least indication of his
intention, now drew Fig. 10 outside the room as usual. The grotesque repro-
duction by Mr. Smith is decidedly striking; and so also is the reproduction of
the next figure, when Mr. Smith again apparently imagined that a geometrical
figure had Ijeen drawn.

In some of the less accurate reproductions Mr. Blackburn complained of
the difficulty he had in keeping the original drawing steadily in his mental view ;
and on one or two occasions we asked Mr. Blackburn to draw his recollection of
the picture simultaneously with Mr. Smith (the two, of course, being kept out of
sight of each other). We found that the main errors in Mr. Smith's reproduc-
tion existed already in Mr. Blackburn's recollection of the drawing. A striking
illustration of this is given in Fig. 16, where the reproduction closely resembles
Mr. Blackburn's drawing of what he remembered. It is, in fact, by no means
easy to keep vividly and correctly in mind for several minutes any irregular
figure which has only been actually before the eye for a few seconds. We tried
one experiment to test the effect of refreshing Mr. Blackburn's memory. Fig.
13 was drawn by us ; and its reproduction, Fig. 13'', was made by Smith in the
usual way. The reproduction is very imperfect, being a sinuous instead of a
spiral line. No contact between the operators having so far occurred, we now
asked Mr. Blackburn to touch Smith's hand for a few moments ; on releasing
it, the reproduction, 13'', was obtained. Mr. Blackburn was now asked to stand
(as at first) behind Mr. Smith, who remained blindfolded. The original drawing
was now brought into the room, and held in front of Mr. Blackburn's eyes, and,
therefore, some distance from the back of Smith's head. The latter now made
the reproduction, 13*^, which is an exact copy of the original. We need hardly
add that t'.iere were absolutely no means (such as mirrors, etc.) by which Smith,
even if not blindfolded, could have gained any glimpse of the drawing, and, as
we have already remarked, the most complete silence was preserved throughout
these experiments.

The accompanying diagrams are fac-similes of the original drawings which
were obtained in the manner described. The accuracy of the engravings has
been ensured by photographing the original drawings.

:v -; ^-

'5-

(IIIMI'SES OK rHK UNSKICN.

% /

MIN1> Ki;.\I)IN(i.

-'5.i

it 5

'■.'

£
^

u::

.fc

1
.a

-3

•n

•-'

■n

f.f)

«c

:•

•g

254

(ii.iMFSKs oi' rmc unsickn.

giS

-s

,A u

•oi 18

R "'■ -

^ c -S

»- P 2

I.I

Si
•c 5

< c

-J

MINI) RKADINC

^55

: A

£ o

■2

(

)

^ W H

2 ' -

Si •«

§.;

e '.

■c «

i « e

•£ .i2 a

(.^il'i

!':'

256

(ILIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

o
O

o
u

H
U

o
o

4t,

MIND-RKADING.

257

6£

u
Q

■J
<

tea

Q
O
a:
c
u
02

•a

t/5

E -

5 E

Q
O
IK

•a

(«

C E

c -a

» S

•^'S

-a a
01 ••

258

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

g
S3

C
I

o
I

d
2

Q
O

o
2;

MIND-READING.

259

3
S
O

rt-C

T3 V

+ s

1 ; ' ■• > '

1
: 1 t I 1

.'Ii' ''

liii

26o

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

ii-

Q
O

0.
Ul

MIND-READING.

a6i

o
90

2
O

Q
O
oi

a.
u

c ^

C ij

|rt t/l

. i ■

262

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

No a» — Original Drawinc.

"Nff at — IxEPRODUCTIOrt

Ny. 2: — Rei'rodu(;tiun

yNo. 22.— Reproduction.

MINDREADING.

363

We have now to consider whether it was possible that any information ot
the character of the designs drawn could have reached Smith through the
ordinary avenues of sense. Of the five recognized gateways of knowledge, four
— tasting, smelling, touch and sight — were excluded by the conditions of the
experiment. There remains the sense of hearing, which was but partially inter-
fered with by the bandage over the eyes and ears. But the information can
certainly not have been conveyed by speech ; our ears were as near to Mr.
Blackburn as Mr. Smith's, and our eyes could have caught the slightest move-
ment of his lips.

Subsequent reports of this Committee, with a detailed series of experiments,
demonstrated the fact that it was possible to transfer sensations of tastes and
pains as well as ideas of numbers, forms, etc., from one person to another without
the use of the senses or any ordinary channel of communication.

The thoughtful reader will, we conceive, hesitate, after a careful reading of
the accounts of these carefully-conducted experiments, to deny the fact of
thought-transference, however difficult he may find it to offer any plausible
explanation.

Those specially interested in the contents of this chapter are urged to road
Mr. Honey's work, ** Mind-Reading and Beyond,' published by Lee &
Shepard, of Boston, or the full reports of the Society for Psychical Research.

iil

DISCERNMENT OF SPIRITS.

"This expression," says McClintock and Strong's Encyclopaedia, " is now
usually understood to mean a high faculty, enjoyed by certain persons in the
apostolic age, of intuitively probing the heart and distinguishing the secret dis-
positions of men. (Compare i Cor. xiv. : 29 ; i John v. : i). It appears to have
been one of the gifts pecular to that age, and- was especially necessary at a time
when the standards of doctrine were not well established or generally understood,
and when many deceivers were abroad (2 John ii. : 7). This faculty of supernatural
insight seems to have been exercised chiefly upon those who came forward as
teachers of others, and whose real designs it was important that the infant Church
should know. Authentic instances, however, do not appear to show the method
of its exercise, although the cases of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts v. : 3, 9), of
Simon Magus (viii. : 21) and of Elymas (xiii.: 9) are cases in point."

The above writer would made it one of the gifts peculiar to the apostolic
age — ignoring the fact of its existence and operations in the Church and world
since that time — though few facts are better attested. The discernment of
spirits was, to our mind, a gift in the same sense that other powers in the
apostolic age were gifts, that is to say, the illuminating and energizing power of
the spirit, laying hold upon certain native powers of the soul, exalted these in
the individual to such a degree that they appeared entirely supernatural. With-

864

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

out the truth and spirit of Christ these gifts would not have blest the Church.
Witiiout the natural qualifications for these gifts in the men, the Church had
still been without them. There can be no doubt that the springs of all these
so-called miraculous gifts lie deep in human nature. The spirit and truth uf
God reveals them and glorifies their operation.

The basal quality in the "discernment of spirits" in New Testament times
is, doubtless, the same as that which Bramwell, the noted evangelist of early
Methodism, possessed. His wonderful spiritual vision enabled him to pierce
the hearts of men and read their intention. On several occasions he is recorded
to have ast' nis'ied his friends by charges of hyj ^risy, and even crime, against
somf.'one i < his presence whose reputation for & nctity and right living was, till
then ■iiloi '■ed. In each case, by the confess Dn of the offender, his charges,
which :.. 11 A'" seemed unjustifiable and even slanderous, were afterwards fully
justified.

There are several well-attested illustrations of the same po^yer in the life of
David Tatum, a Quaker evangelist, of Denver, Colorado. How f.r this power
is possessed by others, and sometimes used for ignoble purposes in our day, the
reader must judge for himself.

As illustrations of this power of discernment of spirits granted to spirit- ..Uy
illumined souls, we subjoin several remarkable incidents in the life of David
Tatum, above mentioned, as given in his interesting little volume entitled
" Striking Providences." The first one is entitled:

A THIEF CAUGHT IN HIS OWN SNARE.

Once, when engaged in pastoral service among strangers in one of our
Eastern States, I was taken to a family about whom there had been nothing
said, and on entering the house I had a clear presentiment by the Holy Spirit
that the husband was given to stealing. I was startled at this revelation and
clear insight into his condition and danger, and I felt it to be a great trial to
speak to him. But it was for this very end that my Heavenly Father had called
me, and how could I be untrue to the manifestation of His will and that unerring
Guide that never misleads His children. It was a great struggle, for while *' the
spirit is willing the flesh is weak." But the same blessed Holy Spirit that had
shown me his guilt, helped me to speak to him plainly respecting the character
and consequence of his sin, and that he could not escape the condemnation of
men or the judgment of the Almighty. And I nrged him to repent and seek
forgiveness, and be reconciled unto God and make amends with the Church and
those whom he might have injured. The occasion was most solemn and im-
pressive as I spoke, and prayed God to deliver him from the power of temptation
and the snare of the devil. After leaving the house, as we went to another

''■^i;

MlND-READlNG.

965

our

ling
)irit
land
to
llled

Ithe
lad

tter

3ek

Ind

Ion

family a mile or more distant, the friend who accompanied me, stated that he
was then under dealing of the Church for that very thing.

On arriving at the house to wh.' we were going, after getting through, as
I thought, with the thief, I had a iwilar prescntimc" at this last-mentioned
place, so clear and unexpected that i rembled like a leaf with the thought of a
repetition of that service on the sin of stealing. I was strongly tempted to
believe that this was only the impression of my former exercise still on my mind.
There was none present but the husband and his wife, and they nice-appearing
friends, and for a little while I felt like the Apostle to be in a strait. But as
I waited on God for a stronger confirmation that it was the leading of the Spirit,
the presentiment grew clearer until I was compelled to speak. And I addressed
them plainly on the character and guilt of stealing, and it was almost a repetition
of my service at .1 ocher house ; and I stated that there was someone in their
house or familv gui before God concerning this matter, and warned them of
the consequer . - ah i exhorted them to turn unto the Lord and repent and live.
After leaving .. e ouse, the friend with me stepped one side with the husband to
inquire what thi . meant, thinking that I had been misled in speaking to them,
as they werr 'el' esteemed in the Church and had none such in their family.

But he b^osured my friend that it was all right, and that I had been led by
the Spirit to speak in a remarkable manner ; that his brother-in-law, from
whose house we had just come (the man whom I first addressed on stealing), had
hurried across the field, and gotten in ahead of us, and requested the privilege
of sitting in an adjacent room with the door ajar to hear what I had to say,
and that my message was for him and most appropriate to his condition, and
that he must have heard every word that was said.

And so the poor man was caught in his own snare and got a double portion.
Now I wish to impress upon the mind of the reader of this narrative the great
benefit and blessed privilege of being led and comforted by the Holy Spirit.
For our Saviour taught us, saying : *' I am the light of the world ; he that
followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." " And
when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them and the sheep follow
him, for they know his voice. "

This doctrine of the Spirit's guidance, as taught by our Lord, is impressive
and sublime, and should animate the followers of Christ with a consciousness of
His presence with them, in the person of the Holy Ghost ; and bring us more
humbly to rely upon *' Him who careth for- us," and will guide us in His service.
" For He is faithful that promised, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. "

" Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of
God." And whether the love of Christ and the welfare of others are the motives
that actuate us in our service.

a66 GLIMI'SKS OK THH UNSKKN.

•'With purpose strong and steady in the f^reat Jehovah's name,
We rise to snatch our kindry/l from the depths of woe and shame;
With Ahni},'hty hands to help us, we have faith to do and dare,
While conrtding in the promise that the Lord will answer prayer."

AN EKUINC. MINISTEK KESTOKia),

In pastoral labor in another State, several huiidnnl miles from home, I was
taken to a family of entire stranfj;ers to me, and as we entered the house I had
a clear presentiment by the Holy Spirit that the father of the family was a

>f foi

bri-rht

but

f;i

shocked

minister (

this revelation, and trembled greatly under a sense ot my re3ponsit)ility, and
the thought of speaking to him, accordingly, lest I might be mistaken, for he
was a fine-appearing man of sixty years, and I asked God, in the secret of my
soul, for the second evidence, if this was so. After taking my seat I arose and
went to the door, and on returning the impression was repeated as before, with
such unmistakable clearness and revelation of his condition before God and the
Church, that I spoke with great assurance, and told him how he had fallen from
love into a jealous and bitter spirit toward his (riends and family, and warned
him to repent and flee from the wrath to come; that his time was short, but
God would have compassion upon him, for our Saviour loved us and had died
for us, hut that it was only through deep humiliation and faith in Christ, con-
fessing his sins, that he could find forgiveness and peace with God, and be
reconciled to his friends 1 then turned to his wife and addressed her in the
opposite manner, and assured her that God had accepted her, and heard her
prayers and seen her tears, and supported her through these years of trial and
suffering, and that He would not forsake her.

I was afterwards informed by an elder in the Church, who accompanied me,
that I had spoken in a very striking manner to the condition of both, and that
he was very bitter and abusive to his famih' and others, and that he had not
attended Church for two years, and yet his friends had borne with him, and
labored and prayed for his restoration. But he humbled himself before God
and confessed his sins, and asked the forgiveness of his family and friends, and
lived in the love of his Saviour a few years and died in peace. I cannot describe
the solemnity of this occasion ; he and his family were bathed in tears, and at
intervals sighs and sohs indicated an intense feeling, and it was only through
divine assistance, with the greatest care on my part, that I was able to control
my own feelings and keep under the guidance of the Holy Spirit in speaking and
prayer. Now, how could I have spoken to that family, of whom I knew nothing,
and set forth so exactly his character, condition and guilt, save through the
revelation of the Holy Spirit ? And the message was evidently accompanied by
the Spirit to their hearts to accomplish its divine purpose.

MIND KliADINd,

a67

was
had

me,

that

not

and

iGod

and

:ribe

Id at

)ugh

trol

and

|ing.
the

•• Now, thei .-* are diversities of j^ifts, but the same spirit." ** But all these
wotketh that one and the self-same spirit, dividing to every man severally as he
will."

"A weary path I've traveled, 'mid darkness, storm and strife,
Hearing'tnany a burden, striif,'glinfj for my life;
Hilt now the morn is breaking, my toil will soon be o'er,
I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on the door."

SUPERNATURAL GUIDANCE.

When engaged in pastoral service in another State, on one occasion while
exhorting a family, a stranger of whom I had never heard came into the room
and took a scat. I was immediately impressed by the Holy Spirit that he was
a minister of the gospel in the Congregational Church, and shortly after
addressed myself to him accoidingly. I expressed how I had seen that he had
been called to the ministry in that branch of the Church, and that the call was
of God, and hence the necessity of exercising that gift by the leading and
power of the Holy Spirit, through faith in Jesus Christ our Lord. The occasion
was solemn and impressive, as I exhorted him to a hol\ consecrat"ion and prayed
that God might give to us the " fullness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ."

He afterwards informed the friend who was with me that he was deeply
impressed with the service, and that in addressing myself to his religious
experience, and call into the ministry in the very Churcli in which he was a
settled pastor, and he a stranger of whom I knew nothing, was to him one of
the most striking proofs of the revelation and guidance of the Holy Spirit with
which he had ever met, and a touching incident that he should remember
through life. Now, such like experiences should not be uncommon with mini-
sters called of God to preach the Gospel of Christ. Paul, the Apostle, says :
" As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another,
as good stewards of the manifold grace of God."

\VM. BKAMWELl's power of " DISCERNMENT OF SPIRITS."

The Rev. \Vm. Bramwell was born in Lancashire in 1759, and was one of
the most earnest and successful of Mr. Wesley's early evangelists. He was a
man of great zeal, mighty faith, most self-sacrificing spirit and of rare spiritual
attainments. Among the most remarkable of his powers was the gift of " dis-
cernment of spirits." We clip the following from a memoir of Bramwell, by
James Sigston :

Many of Mr. Bramwell's friends, in their intercourse with him, have
remarked that he possessed a gift w iiich nearly resembled " the discerning of
spirits." His intimate communion and close walk with God, entitled him
to the appellation which was given to Abraham. " He was called,, the friend of

t68

GLIMI'SKS OK THE UNSEEN.

God." When the Lord was about to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, he said :
" Shall I hide from Abraliam that thinp; which I do ?" It is not, therefore, at
all wonderful if men eminent for piety olten find, in more senses than one, that
"the secret of the Lord is with them that fear him." Do not those affairs
which are termed "common providential (xxurrcnces " speak in other lanj^uaf^e
to them than to the rest of mankind? How much clearer, then, must be tlu'ir
apprehension of spiritual thinj^s, since it is peculiarly in these that "God mani-
fests himself unto them, and not unto the world"? The nature of the
communion which holy souls enjoy with God, and the terms of the close
relation which subsists between Ilimand them, are not at all times proper
subjects ol description. The promiscuous disclosure of them is often only
"castino; pearls before swine." Those who attempt to explain such thin<,'s most
commonly display a profundity of mysticism, because they are tempted to
travel wide of tiie record which the Scriptures give, and to employ phrases
which are not congenial to the simplicity of the Gospel.

Some of the gifts which good men receive may be mentioned to edification,
because they are " for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry,
for the eJifying of the body of Christ."

Others are of a more particular, secret kind, and communicated only to
chosen souls. They form no subject of instruction to other persons, but seem
to be tokens of divine regard toward the individuals themselves. '• A stranger
intermeddleth not with " the satisfaction which they convey. Of the latter
description was the discernment of the spirits of men which Mr. Bramwell at times
appeared to possess. He was neither accustomed to speak of it in public, nor
in the company of friends. Its effects have been frequently noticed; and,
indeed, his occasional exercise of it in the presence of others was the only
method by which it ever became visible. Mr. Thomas Jackson, the good man
who is the narrator of the preceding anecdotes, gives the first of the following
instances, and Mr. Stones, a zealous itinerant preacher, has communicated the
others.

"A woman with whom I was well acquainted, and who had been a member
of the Methodist society for many years, came into our house one day w) ;n
Mr. Bramwell was with us. He looked earnestly at her, and said : ' Womarj,
you are a hypocrite ! and if you do not repent and become converted, hell
will be your everlasting portion.' He then added: 'I know you will hate me
for thus speaking the truth.' I was amazed at the abruptness of his manner
and the strong language in which he expressed himself; and not the less when
I reflected on the person to whom all this had been said, because I entertained
a high opinion of her religious character. But I was soon convinced of the
truth of Mr. Bramwell's words; for the poor women had departed self-condemned
and humblAl under a consciousness of her guilt. She sent for me late in the

MINI) KKADINd.

2C)q

her
■n

mil),

bell
me
Inner

^hcn

lined
the

ined
the

pveninpf of the same day, and desired inc to pray with her, as she felt herself in
^r(;at distress of spirit. I fouiul her callinji^ to ' rcnitiinbrance from whence she
had fallen.' Slu; was in a hopeful state: of repent. mce, and desirous of 'doing
the first works.' I therefore complied with her recpiest and poured out my soul
before the throne of j^race in earnest intercessions. In the course of a few hours,
the Lord was pleased to manifest His mercy to her, and by 'His Spirit bore
witness with iier spirit that she was a child of God.' Her joy was excessive,
and she has been often heard to declare that if she had died in the state ot mind
which Mr. Hramwell saw her, she must have been eternally lost."

" One day," says Mr. Stones, " as he and I were j^^oin^f together to visit the
sicl<, we passeil a public-house, out of wiiich came a man just as we had got
beyond the door. Wlien we had proceeded a little further, Mr. Hramwell groaned
in spirit, and said : ' The Lord have mercy on that man ! Do you know who he
is ?' I replied : ' Yes, sir! I3o you ? ' ' No,' he said, 'but this I know, that he
is a perfect infidel.' ' Dear Mr. Bramwell ! ' said I, ' do not say so.' He replied:
' He is a perfect infidel!' It is a remarkable fact that this very man, to my
certain knowledge, was then, and for aught I know to the contrary, is still, such
a character for infidelity and profaneness as, perhaps, has not his equal in all of
Yorkshire, if in the United Kingdom."

"One night as I was preaching at Birstal, a man, who was a stranger to all
present, either in [)retence or reality, fell ill and had to be taken out of the
chapel. The account which he afterwards gave of himself was, that he came out
of Lancashire (from Leigh or its vicinity), was in search of work, had had
nothing to eat for three or four days, etc. One of our friends took him home
and gave him a night's lodging. The next morning two of the friends came to
me and expressed a desire to beg something for the relief of the poor man. I
immediately headed the subscription list with the small sum which I considered
it my duty to give; and they went around the village to obtain what they could
from others.

In the meantime, Mr. Bramwell came home out of the circuit. I related the
whole affair to him. He wished greatly to see the man himself; and I went
with him to the house where the man had lodged during the preceding night.
We found him within ; for he was waiting to receive the money which the friends
were collecting for him before he took his departure. The man very pathetically
related his tale of woe to Mr. Bramwell. His account appeared to me to be
quite rational, accurate and ingenuous; it pierced me to the bottom of my heart.
While the man was rehearsing his troubles, Mr. Bramwell had his eyes closed,
and frequently groaned in spirit. A : length he lifted up his head and looked at
the man with an eye mat seemed lo pierce him through, and said: 'Tell me! Is
there not a bastard child in all this ?' The man appeared to be thunderstruck ;
he began to tremble, faltered in his speech, and at length confessed that he had

270

ilLIMFSES OK THE UNSEEN.

left home to avoid the payment to an illegitimate which the law exacted. Mr.
Bramwell very faithfully warned him of his sin and danger, and advised him to
go home, desist from his evil practices and turn to God with purpose of heart.
The man expressing some reluctance about returning home, Mr. Bramwell
threatened to have him taken up as an impostor if he did not leave the town
immediately. We watcl^ed him out of town, and were glad that he had gone
away without his booty. Mr. Bramwell afterwards assured me that, to the best
of his recollection, he had never seen the man before."

As an illustration of, and testimony to, the fact of mind-reading, the editor
relates below a singular experience of his own some years since in the city of
Detroit.

REV. PRINCIPAL AUSTIn's EXPERIENCE WITH A MIND-READER.

In the spring of '94, I was returning from the Ohio State Sunday School
Convention, where I had delivered a lecture on "Palestine, the Fifth Gospel," and
having a short time to wait in Detroit for Michigan Central connection, I noticed
the reports of a celebrated mind-reader who was then giving experiments in
that city.

Having had, for many years, an earnest desire to witness a genuine case of
mind- reading, I resolved to call upon this man and witness, if possible, an
exhibition of his powers. I may say that I had witnessed, some years before,
the experiments of Cumberland in his so-called feats of mind-reading, but having
been able, with very little [)ractice, to duplicate nearly all his performances, I
had long ceased to regard the most successful experiments in which there was
bodily contact with the experimenter as tests of miiid-reading, and had, indeed,
formed my own theory in explanation of such experiments, which I was pleased
to see verified by the experiments made by the Society for Psychical Research.

I had previously called on a number of professional mind-readers, but had
never been able to secure any satisfactory evidence that the ideas and emotions,
of one mind could be conveyed to another mind except through the recognized

channels. Accordingly I called upon this Mr. W. -, but found, after a few

minute;?' sitting, he could not give me a successful experiment.

On expressing my disappointment and mentioning my previous attempts to
secure some satisfactory evidence of this power — if it really existed — and expres-
sing a doubt as to such a power, he confidently affirmed that, under certain
conditions, mind could communicate with mind directly and without the ordinary

channels of communication, and told me if I would call on a certain Mrs. C r,

a resident of Detroit, I would probably get a successful experiment in mind-
reading. He assured me of her ability, of her sincere and religious character,
and on the strength of his strong endorsation I called upon her. I found her in

a beautiful home on • street. She was a lady of medium height, rather

slender in body, with a thoughtful, pale face, which carried an air of devotion

MIND-READING.

271

constantly. I introduced myself as a student of mental science, anxious to test
the power of mind-reading, and asked her for an experiment. She received me
cordially in her parlor and asked me to be seated, takino a seat directly opposite
and a few feet from me. Taking my hand for a moment she dropped it and,
closing her eyes, appeared to pass almost instantly into a kind of sleep. Almost
immediately she began talking rapidly and loudly in quite another tone from her
ordinary speech. I remember quite well her opening statement, and after that
will give in summarized form the chief things said to me :

" Sir, I perceive you surrounded by a great crowd of young people. (I
had been for nearly fourteen years Principal of Alma College, St. Thomas, Ont.,
which position I now hold). Your work is orious and you and your com-
rades are carrying heavy burdens. You seei. to me like a company of men in a
field, with ropes over your shoulders, all striving to draw a stone-boat well filled
with stones. The burden is heavy and will so continue, but gradually lightening
with coming years. (We had been, and were then, laboring under heavy debt,
and her prediction as to gradual liglitening of the load upon us seems justified
by subsequent events). . . . You have been a term of years in your present
position, coming from the east, where you were located near a great river. (We
spent oui three years preceding my college appointment at Prescott on the
St. Lawrence)."

In a number of her statements she gave remarkably correct accounts of a
general character concerning myself and my work, and I could not say that any
one statement — though she gave a number of particulars — was incorrect. For
example, she particularly referred to one of my fellow-laborers with whom I
had been associated a longtime, describing very well his general appearance, etc.
(Prof. Warner, the Vice- Principal of Alma College, associated with me for
fifteen years at Alma, had been a college mate for some years at Albert Uni-
versity, Belleville, Ont.)

Still I professed to be unsatisfied and demanded a more particular test. I
said: " Madam, you are able to read the mind, and if so, you can mention the
name of my associates in labor." "Ah, sir," said she, " you have asked me a
hard thing." " I came for that very purpose," i said, " and nothing but a
most particular fact will satisfy me you can read the mind."

" Sir," said she, " you must know there are two classes of mind-readers —
those who see as in a vision what they relate — clairvoyant — and those who
hear what they relate — clairaudient. Very few have the spiritual sight and
hearing both well developed ; what I have told you I have seen as in a series of
pictures. My spiritual hearing is not well developed — -though I hear a great
deal — but all I hear is confused ; I cannot well distinguish the sounds from
each other. I am hearing names all the time I am in your presence ; I will try
and get you one or more."

( II

i I

>'^iJ*l-«

272

GLIMPSES OK THE UNSEEN.

And then for some little time she was silent ; a look of most intent earnest-
ness came over her face. Her whole being seemed to resolve itself into hearing,
so intently did she seem to listen. The stillness was death-like and oppressive,
when all at once, with a sudden spring as if she would leap from her seat, she
cried out loudly: " Professor — Professor — Professor W — I can't get the rest of
the name. He is a professor and his name begins with W."

I was astounded, and yet fully convinced of the iact of mind-reading from
that hour, for Prof. Warner had been my intimate co-laborer for fifteen years.
I never saw Mrs. C r before or since.

MR. BLaCKBURN's EXPERIMENTS.

The following account of a series of most remarkable experiments, under
direction of the Society for Psychical Research, showing unmistakably, we
think, what is known as will-imprcbsion, is taken from " Mind- Reading and
Beyond," published by Lee & Shepard, of" Boston :

Mr. Blackburn, of Brighton, an associate of our Society, and who is a very
painstaking and accurate observer, had obtained remarkable results in thought-
reading, or will-impression, with a Mr. G. A. Smith, a young mesmerist living
at Brighton,

We entered into correspondence with Mr. Blackburn, who thereupon took
the trouble to send us a paper recording in detail his experiments with Mr.
Smith. These statements appeared to be so carefully made that two of our
number, Mr. Myers and Mr. Gurney (Mr. Barrett bemg unable to go at the
time), arranged to pay a visit to Brighton personally to investigate the joint
experiments of Mr. Blackburn and Mr. Smith. These gentlemen most oblig-
ingly placed themselves at our service, and a series of trials were made in our
own lodgings at Brighton. The results of these trials give us the most impor-
tant and valuable insight into the manner of the mental transfer of a picture
which we have yet obtained.

Mr. Blackburn has frequently practised thought-reading with Mr. Smith ;
but at the time when our first experiments were made, he had been accustomed
to hold Mr. Smith's hand, or touch his forehead, with a view to communicating
the impression. No unconscious pressure, however, could have communicated
to the subject the definite words and pictures enumerated below. Though some
of the early experiments are not striking, we prefer to give the whole series, that
a due estimate may be formed of the chances against mere coincidence as an
explanation.

Experiments made at our own rooms, Brighton, December 3rd, 1882.
Present: Mr. Edmund Gurney, Mr. F. W. H. Myers, Mr. Douglas Blackburn,
l-.crei.ftv-r called B., and Mr. G. A. Smith, hereafter called S.

MIND-READING.

«7J

ted
me
hat
an

582.

irn,

S. was blindfolded at his own wish, to aid in concentration, and during the
experiment sat with his back turned to the experimenters.

B. holds S.'s hand, and asks him to name a color, written down by one
of us and shown to B. It is needless to say the strictest silence was preserved
during each experiment.'

Cfil.OK sia.KCTliD.

>•/>/

Cjold

Light wood

Crimson

Black .

Oxford Blue .

White .

Orange .

■

cS.

Black .

•

ANSWHK.

Gilt, color of picture frame.

Dark brown, slaty.

Fier3--looking, red.

Dark, black.

Yellow, gray, blue.

Green, white.

Reddish brown.

I am tired, and see nothing.

After a rest, numbers were then tried in the same way.

NV.MllKR SKl.KCTKU.
Exp/. (J . . . . . 35 . . .

lO . . . . . 48

ANSWER.

Several trials of colors and numbers were now made with S. and B. in
separate rooms, which failed. IVaines were next tried, written down and shown
to B., who then took S.'s hand as before. There was, as usual, no sound nor
movement of the lips on the part of anyone.

NAMK C:HOS|-.N. ANSWl'R.

Ex pi. 12. Barnard . . Harland, Barnard.

13. ]^>ellairs . . Humphreys, Ben Nevis, Benaris.

14. Johnson . . Jobson, Johnson.

15. Regent Street . Rembrandt Steeth, Regent Street.

Two names were then tried without any contact, as follows :

NAMK CHOSKN. ANSWKR.

Expt. 16. Hobhouse ..... Hunter.

" 17. Black ...... Drake, Blake.

Contact between S. and B. was now resumed by our express desire, as the
increased effort of concentration, needed when there was no contact, brought on
neuralgia in B.

NAMK CHOSKN. ANSWKR.

/T.r/'/. 18. Oueen A'lne .... Queechy, Queen.

" 19. Wissenschaft .... Wissie, VVissenaft.

* Nfo'hinp w.is said when S. namsil the color, an 1 where more than one color is inentioiied he gave the colors
fuccessivtiy without fresh unestion.

874

(;LiMrsi:.s oi- thk unskkn.

As B. was ignorant of German, he mentally represented the word " Wis-
senschaft " in En^dish fashion.

Pai)is were then experimented on. One of us held a sofa cushion close
before S.'s face, so that vision of anything on the other side of it was absolutely
impossible (he was also blindfolded) ; and the other pinched or otherwise hurt
B., who sat opposite S., holding his outstretched hand. S. in each case
localized the pain in his own person, after it had been kept up pretty severely
upon B.'s person for a time var3-ing from one to two minutes.

ANSWKR ((iV POINTING).

PART RKNDKREO PAINFL'L

Expt.

20.

Left uppor arm

21.

Lobe of right ear .

22.

Hair on top of head

^3-

Left knee

Left upper arm.
Lobe of right ear.
Hair on top of head.
Left knee.

These experiments were very striking in the accuracy of the indications
given by S. This form of transmission of sensations might with advantage he
more widely a'ttempted.

We next drew a series of diagrams of a siTiole geometrical kind, which
were placed Lehind S., so that B. could sec tht;!ii, S. described them in each
case correctly, except that he generally reversed them, seeing the upper side
of the diagram downward, the right-hand side to the left, etc.

Next day (December 4) we varied this <\ riment, thus:

I:xpr 21.

Dfscription.— A triangle^
with apex doicnncards ; and
some loose lines.

Expt. 25.

Description. — Triangle in
a circle, and straight line
pointing downwards.

in
lline

MIND-READING.

275

Expt. 26. — A large arrow was drawn, and variously moved about, in order
to discover whether the reversal of the image was maintained. In every case it
was described as pointing to right when it pointed to left^ downwards when it
pointed upwards, and so on.

Expt. 27. — Figure held up-
side down as shown.

Description. — 1 see a sort
of circle ; a streak, with a
lump at the top ; an " Aunt
Sally " sort of thing.

One of us, completely out of sif^ht of S., drew some figure nx random, the
figure being of such a character that its siiape could not be easily c:>nveyed in
words ; this was done in order to meet th';i assumption that some code — sr.ch as
the Morse alphabet — was used by S. and B. The figure drawn by us was then
shown to B. for a few moments — S. being seated all the time with his back to
us and blmdfolded, in a distant part of the same room, and subsequently in an
adjoining room.

B. looked at tne figure d.awn ; then held S.'s hand for a while; then
released it. After being released, S., who remained blindfolded, drew the
impression of a fi e which he had received. It was generally about as like
the original as a ild's blindfold drawing of a pig is like a pig; that is to say,
it was a scrawl, out recognizable as intended to represent the original figur'i.
In no case wa rhere the smallest possibility that S. could have seen 'Ju;
original figure; md in no case did B. touch S., even in the slightest <■ "^ner,
while the figu: as being drawn.

In one case, No. 6 in the series, the copy may be said to be as exact as S.
could have drawn it blindfold if ho ^^ad previously seen the original. The
figures were not reversed on this day, as they had been on the previous one.

The whole series of figures (nine in number) are given in the accompanying
plates. The number indicates the order m which they were drawn ; the original
drawing made by is is shown in the upper half of the piate, its reproduction by
S. on the lower half.

376

(;i,iMFsi:s cw ihk unskkn.

No. I. — Original Drawing.

No. X. — Original Drawino.

f>;„. 2.— Ri.riw9nraTio.i.

[^•O ,,_. RErRODUCTION.

MINI) kl.AIUNC

-7 7

<
O

z
o
u.
C
I
m

O
Z,

o
c

o
r

O
1

CHAPTER X.

HYPNOTISM.
Introductiun liy ihc Editor.

THE phenomena, now known ;is Hypnotism and Somnamhulism, and
formerly called Animal Majjjnetism or Mesmerism, were known and usod
from the earliest times in the serviee of mysticism, j^rognostication and
religion, by priests and fakirs, Greek oracles and Roman sibyls, \)y magicians,
conjurors and exorcists.

Fredrik Hjornstrcim, in his learned work on Hypnotism, declares that at
certain festivals of ancient Egypt, women and children were wont to be inspired
by the god Apis and so ent(?red into prophetic trance. There was belief in
rappinfj spirits in Babylon. In the temple of Ceres, in Achaia, there was on
the bottom of the well a mirror m which the priests could produce the image of
the sick for whom a cure was sought. In the temi)le of Apollo, at Delphi, th(^
priestess was seated on a tripod, placed over a chasm in the ground, from which
sulphur fumes arose. She was soon in a hypnotic trance, during which sht;
transmitted her oracles from the gods just like a sonmambule. The Greek and
Roman sibyls were clairvoyant only at times. The skill of the Indian fakir is
almost incredible and is, doubtless, produced largely by hypnotism. After the
introduction of Christianity the belief in the divine origin of these phenomena
ceased, and they were looked upon as works of the devil, and those who possessed
such power were regarded as possessed or bewitched. These witches, who
were inhumanely persecuted, were really somnambules, easily passing into the
hypnotic condition.

We quote from Bjornstrbm :

Some showed great clairvoyance concerning botii past and future things.
Others displayed a marvelous development of the senses and heard the slightest
noise from immense distances. Some spoke in foreign languages, which they
did not know when in normal condition, as in the case of the fanatics of
Auxanne (i(j5-2); they could also read the secret thoughts of others, and obeyed
involuntarily orders that had l-oen thought but not uttered.

The descriptions of the conditions of the obsessed correspond thoroughly
with what is now seen in the hypnotized : tetanus, catalepsy, lethargy, somnam-
bulism, and often a'so hystero-epileptic convulsions. They also lost the
memory of what they had said or done during the ecstatic state. In some,
this excited state of the nervous system changed to real mental disease, which
often took that form of insanity m which the patient imagines himself transformed
into an animal, as a wolf, Ivcantkropy, or into a vampire, vampirismus, lamismwi

the

lena

issed

who

> the

lings

thtcst

they

■.s ot

)CVC{

jhly
Inam-

thc
|;ome,
fhich

VISION i)K an<;I':ls ci.incinc to iiii-; cross.

Irmei

hsmu'i

\l\ I'NOI'ISM.

3K1

(lamiavampire). The remedy consisted in exorcism, or \.\\c. efforts of the priests
to conjure away the (^vil spirits, by which a kind of hyi)notic manipulations wwo
used.

These nervous conditions show fjreat contafj;iousness. In the be^innin^ of
the i8th century, a sinf>;lo Calvinist, iiailini; from a villaj^e in Dauphine, was
sufficient to impart a prophetic spirit to tlic wliole popuhuion. liy a ina;,'netic
inspiration of this spirit throu<^h the inoutii of some persons, who afterwards
communicated it to others, no less than 8,000 or 10,000 projihets arose in
Daujihine, Vivarais, and the Cevennes. Men, women, ch.ildren, old men, all
prophesied the future. Ciiildren, three years old, who never before; had spoken
anythinj; but the patois of the province, now, durin<; the trance, spoke the purest
French with astonishing; ease, foretelling the speed)' destruction of the Papistic
Babylon.

In F.gypt, there is a sect that for forty centuries has practised hypnotism.
In the middle ot a white porcelain plate they draw with pen and ink, two tri-
anj^les that cross each other, fill the fi<j;urcs with some cabalistic words, and
pour oil over the plate to make it more shiny. By starinjj; for some minutes at
the middle of the triangles young people easily fall asleep and enter the somnam-
bulistic state. Others use only a ball of crystal. Similar agencies are used by
Arabic sorceresses and Morocco marabouts. The former draw in the hand a
circle with a black spot in the centre. Staring at this spot soon prc^duces
hypnotic sleep and loss of sensibility. The latter place on a table, covered with
a clean cloth, a bottle filled with water in front of a lamp, and sleep is produced
by fixing the eyes on the light in the focus of the bottle. In Constantino, the
members of the tribe of the Beni-Aiaoussa .sit down in a circle, amid music
from drums and castanets, and perform first a number of voluntary swaying
movements, until with foaming mouth, staring eyes, and bodies dripping with
perspiration, they fall into convulsions and insensibility, during which they
pierce their flesh with daggers, walk on red-hot iron, swallow pieces of glass, etc.,
without the slightest pain, and finally, exhausted, fall into deep slumber.

Friedrich Anton Mesmer, who gave his name to this class of phenoinena»
was born in 1734, on Lake Constance, and pursued his medical studies in
Vienna. In 1766 he began to use mineral magnetism as a remedy, and explained
its action by the existence of a similar quality in the human body. He soon
came to hold magnetism as a quality of all bodies, the link which binds together
the whole creation.

"Through certain manipulations (such as touching, stroking, in a word,
'magnetizing'), even simply by merely a strong act of the will, one can," he
says, " produce this power in persons, impart it to others, and cause the most
marvelous and wholesome eflfects." The magnet now became superfluous, and
cures were performed by only the newly-discovered animal magnetism. By

,%.^a.

^J'^

.0^, \^^'

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

liuH

|25
^ 12.2

liO

'•25 |l.4 ||.6

£"

b ■ ■

— ►

Hiotographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO

(716) 873-4503

4»^

^\^\

jSj

C.I.IMPSKS OK IHli UNSKKN.

medical men and physicists, however, he was considered a juggler, who made
his cures tlirough hidden magnets. His letters to most of thf learned societies
of Europe were left unanswered, except by the Academy of Berlin which
declared his theory fallacious.

To the i-Lnglish surgeon, James Braid, of Manchester, who in 184J puhHshed
his work " Neurypnology," belongs the merit of having taken animal magnetism
out of the dark region of charlatanry and brought it into the clear light of
science; of having proved that its phenomena do not depend upon a fluid
transmitted from the inngnetizer, but on nerve forces working within the
organism of the one magnetized ; and, finally, of having given the whole thing
the more suitable name of hypnotism. In order to expose tlie impostures of
jnesmerism, he began, in November, 1841, to study the subject at the seances of
Tvafontaine. He then found that at least one phenomenon did not depend upon
imposture, viz., the spasmodic closing of the eyelids. Thinking that this spasm
must result from fatigue in certain muscles of the eye, he had his friend Walker
to gaze fixedly at the neck of a bottle, and within three minutes his eyes closed,
tears ran down his cheeks, his head drooped — a sigh, and he fell into a deep
sleep. The experiment was repeated on Braid's wife and on a servant girl, with
the same result. He now tried the procedures of the magnetizers with equal
success. From this he concluded that the magnetic phenomena must be
attributed to a disturbance of the nervous system, produced by the concentration
of the visual powers, the absolute repose, of the body, and the fixing of the
attention ; that all depended on the physical and psychical condition of the
subject, not on the will of the magnetizer or on any magnetic fluid, or on any
general mystic agent. Accordingly, he let the subjectivity of the sleeper play
the main role, and he explained numerous somnambulistic phenomena by a
morbidly increased sensibility — hyperesthesia.

Hypnotism is derived from the Greek hypnos, sleep, and is the science of the
sleep-like state which shows itself in various nervous phenomena, and is produced
in certain persons susceptible to its influence by influences exerted by another
acting on the nervous system, and also bv spontaneous action. Several
important (]U('stions arise. Who can be liypnoir:cd ?

Formerly it was supposed that only weak, sickly, nervous persons and
especially h\sterical women were susce})tible to hypnotism. Later experiences,
and particularly the elaborate statistics of Liebault, of Nancy, have shown that
almost anybody can be hypnotized. A difference, howevLT, must be made between
those whom it is easy and those whom it is difficult to hypnotize. Among the
former belong, without doubt, the hysteric; but otherwise physical weakness
gives no special predisposition. The willingness of the subject, his passivity
and power to concentrate the thought or attention on the intended sleep have
more importance. Thus it has been found that even the strongest men from

HYI'NOILSM.

2«.i

the lower classes (mechanics, laborers, soldiers), are more easily put to sleej)
than intellipient persons, who voluntarily or involuntarily, let their thought
wander to various objects which distract the attention. It will often be found
that those who cannot be hypnotized in the first, second or third stance, yet
succumb to renewed patient efforts.

The oftener a person is hypnotized,//;^ sooner and more easily ivill he fall
asleep. Medium intelligence seems also to be favorable, for the reasons men-
tioned above. On the other hand, it is impossible to hypnotize idiots, and very
difficult to do so ivith the insane ; but if it succeeds at all with the latter, they can
be cured through .sug<:^cstion, as Voisin has shown.

Hypnotism has already been largely used as a remedial agent in many
nervous disorders, and doubtless has a much wider field of usefulness in the
future. Hypnotism in itself can also be used without the aid of suggestion, as
an anodyne and as a means of soothing and invigoration, because of the sleep
and insensibility it produces. On account of these qualities, hypnotism has
been used for sleeplessness, for occasional aches and to make surgical and
obstetrical operations free from pain. But these purely hypnotic effects are
also strengthened and prolonged by suggestion. The dilTerence is easily under-
stood. If I put a patient, sufTering from some pain, into so deep an hypnotic
slumber that he becomes insens'ble, the ache will disappear during the sleep,
but will continue when he awuKCS, unless the pain was of such a nature that,
like a short paroxysm, it has ceased of its own accord during the time he was
asleep, just as it would even if he had been awake. A more lasting pain,
however, is relieved by hypnotism only during the sleep ; but if the suggestion
be added that the pain shall not be felt at the awaking, the ache, which would
otherwise have begun anew at the waking, is often checked. Thus, suggestion
in this case gives an important addition to the effect of hypnotism.

It goes without saying that it has its first and best field of action in diseases
of the nervous system, and among these, principally in functional or dynamic
disturbances — those which do not depend on any perceptible destruction of
tissue or organic defect in the nervous system — and preferably, such disturbances
as have been caused by imagination or in a psychical way. But we have also
reason to expect some effects on pathological states of the lower organic or
vegetative life.

A brief summary of tlie reswlts that .iave already been gained by magnetic,
hypnotic or suggestive therapeutics, will show us in what measure these expecta-
tions have been fulfilled.

The "wonder-cures," which have in all ages been made by oracles, priests,
exorcists, charlatans, magicians and " wonder-doctors " in general, have almost
all been achieved through hypnotism and suggestion, although the visible means
have alternately been oracula responses, magic sentences, exorcisms, laying on

284

C.LIMPSKS OF THK UNSKKN.

of hands, holy wells, sweating-cloths, amulets, relics, magnetized tables, magne-
tized trees, homoeopathic globules, bread-pills, colored water, etc.

That Mesmer, Puysdgur and many magnetizers have cured various nervous
ailments admits of no doubt. Braid also endeavored to make hypnotism a
curative agency, and in many cases he had decided succes. But what interests
us most is to find out whether besides Braid, other educated physicians and
noted scientists have also succeeded in using this agent in tiie service of
therapeutics.

Among the first experiments we Jind the endeavors of surgeons to use
magnetic sleep as an anodyne in more serious operations. As early as 1829,
Cloquet succeeded in this manner in amputating without pain a woman's breast.
In 1845, Loysel of Cherbourg made painless amputation of a leg. Broca and
FoUin used hypnotism when making incisions in ulcers; also Velpeau and other
French surgeons made use of hypnosis as an anodyne in their operations. Most
of them, however, found chloroform more convenient.

From 1850 to i860 hypnotism was used on a large scale by Dr. Esdaile,
head-surgeon at the hospital of Calcutta. In six years he performed six hundred
operations on hypnotized Hindoos, and a committee of surgeons and physicians
appointed by the Indian government testified to his great success, which was
chiefly derived from the fact that the most difficult operations could usually be
made without a sign of pain from the patient, and without memory, when they
awaked, of what had been done to them. The Hindoos, however, are said to
be very susceptible to hypnotism.

A few obstetricians have also successfully used hypnotism to render delivery
and obstetrical operations painless. But those who have done most to exhibit
the great power of hypnotism and suggestion in the curing or alleviation of
various internal complaints (especially of the nervous system), are first of all by
many years Liebault and the physicians of Nancy, and in later years Bernheim
with others, as well as some Paris physicians, such as the psychiaters Voisin
and Luys, also Fontan and Segard, two Toulon doctors, ami Delboeuf, of
Belgium.

We give below from Bgornstrom's work several accounts of hypnotic treat-
ment of diseases :

The second case was that of a hystero-epileptic girl, twenty-five years old,
who for five years had had frequent and violent maniacal attacks, with hallucina-
tions and delirium. She was hypnotized during the attacks, but with great
difficulty, as five nurses had to hold her and her eyelids had to be forced open
to compel her to stare at the magnesium light. In the beginning it took one or
two hours to put her to sleep. Suggestion decided how long she should sleep —
usually twenty-three hours and a half. Thus during the attacks she was kept
unconscious for seven days and nights, except for half an hour each day, for tf)-

HYPNOTISM.

a8s

wards the end of the half-hour she again began to become .nianiacal. While she
had always before refused to take medicine or food during the attacks, she now
willingly took these during the hypnosis. Towards the end of the treatment,
which lasted four months, she was kept asleep only three-fourths of the time.
After awhile the attacks ceased entirely, and did not return during the fifteen
months that have since elapsed, and the woman became " polite, sociable," and
even " amiable," and got a position at La Salpetriere as laundress.

The third case was that of a girl twenty-five years old, with erotomania and
maniacal attacks with hallucinations of sight and hearing concerning an imagin-
ary lover. These hallucinations ceased almost immediately after the first
hypnosis, during which she was forbidden to see or hear the lover any more, and
she soon became entirely well.

The fourth patient was a seamstress, seventeen years of age, who had lost
her step-father. She fell into deep melancholy, refused her food, and had hal.
lucinations in which she heard and saw her deceased step-father. By sugges-
tion under hypnosis she was soon cured.

The fifth case was a hysterical married woman, twenty-five years old, with
visual hallucinations, ideas of poisoning, hemi-anresthesia, and color-blindness
of the left eye. She was relieved of all these symptoms and became well
through suggestion under hypnosis.

The sixth case, a woman forty-eight years of age, with severe melancholy
hallucinations of sight and hearing and suicidal tendency, was cured in the same
way in three seances.

All these cases were treated at La Salpetriere, and the results were corrob-
orated by the assistant physicians.

Among the most important diseases which have been the objects of the
hypnotizer's successful experiments, may be mentioned alcoholism and the
morbid thirst or dipsomania, which borders on insanity. Here, too, Voisin has
rendered distinguished service. But Fontan and Segard also speak of success-
ful cures. The following are instances from the last named :

T., a smith, thirty years old, was admitted to the hospital of Toulon on
account of gastro-enteritis and delirium tremens. His appearance was that of a
drunkard: red face; red and sore eyes; general tremor; he r.uffered from
insomnia with terrible nightmares; hallucinations of hearing even in the day-
time ; no appetite ; thick-coated tongue ; constipation after previous diarrhoetic
evacuations ; had had three attacks of delirium during the previous days ; was
gloomy and uneasy; speech incoherent; was cared for in an isolated room.
The first attempt to hypnotize him failed ; by the example of another patient
he was afterwards successfully put to sleep. Suggestion on the thirty-first of
August: "No delirium; no nightmare ; sound sleep: three or four evacuations
to-morrow." Upon awaking he was somewhat dazed, but remembered the

fl6

GLIMPSKS OF THE UNSEEN.

suggestion. During the night he slept well, without dreams — something very
unusual — and later in the day he had two evacuations. Suggestion, September
ist: "You will have no more tremor; you will have neither dizziness, nor
delirium, nor fear ; sleep without dreams; better appetite."

Sept. 4. Since the first suggestion he had suffered neither from sleeplessness
nor from nightmare or hallucinations. He was> contented, ate a great deal, and
had five or six diarrhoetic evacuations every da}'. Suggestion : " T. should have
only two operations a day."

Sept. 16. Quiet as before; no diarrhoea since the last suggestion.

Sept. 21. Bad dreams and diarrha^a had reappeared; otherwise all right.
Suggestion : " T. must not dream or be frightened ; the nights should be calm ',
only one good evacuation a day."

Sept. 24. Again some uneasiness after three days and nights of perfect
quiet. Suspicion that he had procured some liquor. Suggestion: "No uneasi-
ness. Sleep every night for ten hours without fear and without dreams ;
absolutely forbidden to taste liquor." Upon awaking he showed great fear of
drinking.

Sept. 28, Since the last seance no disturbance, no feeling of sickness. The
nights excellent ; v.he appetite good ; the general condition very satisfactory.
Digestion normal. Before his dismissal, he was given one more suj^gestion, to
keep away from strong liquors. He took an oath to do so. The physician,
however, did not put much faith in his word and has not heard anything of hini
since.

We give one more cure effected by hypnotic suggestion as practised by
Voisin :

The fourth case was still more difficult, but the success was all the more
brilliant. This patient was also a woman, forty-five years old. For twelve
years a widow, she had tried to drown her sorrow in the cup. Especially during
the last seven years, she had been in the habit of getting thoroughly intoxicated
with wine or brandy several times a month. Her temper had become abomin_
able ; she had constant scenes and quarrels with her children ; she did not care
for her home ; she had constant thirst, and said she would drink till she became
insane. She did not sleep any more, had the most horrible hallucinations, had
to be watched at night, wished to smash everything, also had suicidal tendency ;
lor several days had refused to leave her bed and had had slimy vomits. She
detested everything that she had loved before : both her children, God and
religion.

Only with difficulty was she persuaded to receive V., on the eighteenth of
July, 1887. She turned her back to him, did not wish to see any physician,
vomited and complained of pain in the pit of her stomach, and of extreme thirst ;
she asked for wine. First, ordinary means were prescribed to alleviate the

HVI'NOIISM.

-•87

vomitinj^

These succeeded. On the twenty-second and twenty-third of July,
V. tried in vain to hypnotize her. The third attempt, on the twenty-fourth,
was successful. Although she gave no sign that she heard anything, she w.is
given the following suggestion: "No thirst, except at meals; not to drink
between these ; at the meals only two glasses of di'uted claret : to shun un-
diluted wine, brandy and liqueurs. This is the way to n.'gain your health and
happiness."

July 25. She had not felt any more thirst except at meals. She was (juiet
and had not attempted to drink cither wine or cordials. She was then hypnot-
ized more profoundly than on the previous day. To the former suggestions was
added : " To sleep for six hours during the night — from eleven to five."

July 26. Her sleep lasted exactly the prescribed time. vShe was calm and
did not vomit any more ; the pain in the pit of her stomach was gone, but she
still had a headache. Lethargic hypnosis ; the same suggestions with the
addition : " No nightmare, no headache."

Aug. 2. Everything satisfactory except her headache, which remained in
the daytime. At the retiuest of her brother, she was then given the suggestion
to occupy herself with her household duties and with her children ; to regain .1
quiet temper ; to go to church and thank God for health regained, etc. ; to
thank her brother for his sacrifices for her sake ; to no more; have any thirst,
headache, sleeplessness or nightmare.

On August 4, she met \. with the most cheerful countenance, said that she
had been to church, and thanked V. with emotion. Her brother said that she
had begun to take care of her house, was on good terms with her children, slepi
well, but had some headache. But her hand still trembled, so that she could
not write a testimonial needed by her son. She was then easily hypnotized, and
V. again gave her the usual suggestions, adding that she would without dilliculty
write him a letter of thanks. The next day she wrote the testimonial without
trembling. On the seventh of August she wrote the following letter to Voisin ;

" You have saved my life ! You have succeeded in suppressing that thirst
which consumed me, and which was my misfortune. You have given back to
me the quiet sleep I had missed for so long. You have restored me to a happy
existence, which was crushed by sorrow and suffering. You have awakened
anew in me my old religious feelings; my temper is again good and mild; you
have restored me to the normal condition in which I should have been, had I
not lost my husband, and had I not been sick for so long. At mass, I shall
pray for you and yours. A thousand times thanks! Receive, sir" — etc.

On the twenty-first of August Mrs. X. went into the country with her
children, well and normal in mind and body.

In Professor Seymour's little work on Psychology we find the following

2,SS

(W.IMPSKS OF IHK UNSKKN.

question, and ihe answers jjiven by Professor S(*yniour are sufficiently instructive
to merit their insertion just here :

Ol'Ksiion. Have you any incidents in your experience which you can give
us in favor of this position of performing; amputations, and of curing paralysis ?

Answku. -Yes! In the city of Toronto, on the 14th day of December, 1888,
Dr. J; Hunter l^mory, 3,^ Richmond Street Hast, invited me to his office to try an
experiment of this kind upon a gentleman by the name of Charles Armstrong,
who lives at 247 Spadina Avenue. The operation to be performed was the
amputation of a finge'*. 1 went to the doctor's office at the time appointed, and
was introduced to the patient, and the object of ni)' presence was made known-
Mr. Armstrong stated that he objected to taking ether, and was willing that I
should try my power of magnetizing the arm ; but at the same time he said he
had but little confidence in my success, as he had been tried by several profes-
sional mesmerists, and had ntner been controlled. I told him I did not intend to
mesmerise him, but simply intended to control the circulation of the blood and
nerve fluid, so as to prevent his suffering. When he had seated himself in the
chair, and the doctor was ready, commencing with the tips of the fingers of my
right hand at the end of his fingers, and with the assurance of mind that the
blood in his hand would recede back into his arm, as I drew my hand back over
his arm. I moved slowly backward, and when I had drawn my hand clear back
over his arm to the shoulder, I told the doctor I was ready, 1 then placed my
right hand upon the patient's forehead, and the left hand just back of the hand
that was being cut. The finger was taken off, and the patient was conscious of
all that was going on during the operation ; and, according to his own testimony
(not only given to those who were present on this occasion, but also before the
Canadian Institute, on the 22nd of the same month), he did not feel the slightest
sensation of pain ik:ring the entire amputation, nor in sewing up the flesh, until
the last stitch was being put in, which took place after I had withdrawn my influ-
ence from him. Nor was there a loss of more than from about six to eight drops
of blood, during the ten or fifteen minutes that must have expired in sewing up
the wound.

ANOTHER CASK OF I'AkTIAl, I'ARAI.VSIS.

About two months ago Mr. Saul, of No. 10 Buchanan Street, Toronto, called
on me one morning to go to see a lady in this city, who lives at No. 12
Maplewood Avenue. When I got there I found her suffering with rheumatic
pains in the arms and shoulders. One of her arms was partially paralyzed, so
much so that she had not been able to raise it above her waist for about sixteen
or eighteen months. I took hold of her hand wi;h my left hand and commenced
rubbing her arm down straight from her shoulder, upon the naked skin. In about
ten minutes after I entered the house she was able to raise her hand to the top of
her head, and put it back to the back of her neck, and has had the use of her

HYrNOTISM.

389

arm ever since. I could give you many more instances of a similar character,
but as these a-'e within reach of your immediate confirmation by appealing to
these persons (whose names and addresses I have given), ! think them sufficient to
illustrate the truth of our position ; that the electric forces of the body ol the
patient will yield to the positive control of the mind of the magnetizer, who pro-
duces an impression, through the electric forces of his own body.

According to most authorities the hands, and especially the fingers, are the
chief physical agent for effecting those changes in the nervous conditions of the
patient which result in cure. From the earliest times the cure of sickness by the
"laying on of hands " has been practised, and there can be no doubt that the
hand itself is a storehouse of magnetic power. The hand is largely used in
hypnotizing and also in de-hypnotizing, and everyone is conscious of those
instinctive, automatic movements that lift the hand to the head in case of head-
ache and of the relief that comes to those afflicted, from rubbing the head,
especially by the hands of another person. Professor Seymour, in his
Psychology, gives the following directions for operating upon the sick :

I will now proceed to give you some of the different methods of operating.
Suppose you have a case of

BRAIN FEVER, OR INFLAMMATION OF THE BRAIN.

You should place your left hand on the back of the neck, just between the two
shoulders of the patient, and with the tips of the fingers of your right hand,
commence from the organ of individuality (just at the top of the nose), and draw
your hand back over the top of the head, towards your left hand. When you
have done this a few times, draw it from the same starting point, back over the
sides of the head, towards the back of the neck, and down towards the left hand.
When you have done this for a few minutes remove your left hand to the bottom
of the spine, and with your right hand commence at the back of the neck and rub
down to the left hand again for a few minutes; then place your left hand down to
to the feet, and with your right hand again at the end of the spine, rub down to
the feet, until you have completed the circuit, from the positive pole in the brain
to the negative in the feet. In such cases it would be well to wet the hair before
commencing operation. The foregoing treatment will apply to headache as well.

CATARRH.

In a case of catarrh : Take a bowl of warm water, and dip the fingers of
both hands in the water, and with the left hand placed upon the back of the neck
commence with the fingers of your right hand placed on each side of the nose ;
rub up over the forehead, and back to the left hand at the back of the neck for
several minutes ; after which place your left hand down to the bottom of the
spine, as in the case of brain fever, and with your right hand at the back of the
neck, rub down the spine. Repeat this treatment every morning, and in a few

I I

I '

»'

•90

GMMl'SICS OK I'HK UNSKKN.

weeks you will find the most stubborn cases of catarrh will yield. In ordinary
cases relief will be found after the first two or three treatments. The same
treatment may be used for colds and inlluenza.

iii;Mi)KKii.\(ii:s.

To stop hemorrhaj^^e (suppose it to be a bleedinq- of the nose), take the finfrcr
and thumb of your right hand, one on each side of the nose, and rub up to the
forehead, at the same time keep your left hand at the back of the neck. In all
cases of hemorrha_<;e the right hand should be applied as near the bleeding point
as possible, and the left hand to the spot where you wish to attract the blood.
After you have thus treated the case for a few minutes, then pass your hands
over the body of the patient in general, in order to produce a general circulation.

TUMORS, SWKM.INCS, KTC.

In cases of tumors, swellings, and enlargements of the glands, place your left
hand at the most suitable point, a small distance from the tumor, and with your
right hand commence to rub around the tumor at the edge of the swelling; or
if there be inflammation around it, at the extreme edge of the inflametl part, then
gradually move in toward the centre, and over the swelling. At first touch it
lightly, then gradually press a little harder, and when you find you are able to
press fairly heavy upon the swollen part, without the patient suffering any severe
pain, then rub from the centre out towards the left hand, and enlarge your circuit
until you have reached from the centre of the tumor to the nearest extremity of
the body. Thus, if it should be a tumor in the ..eck, rub out towards the
shoulders and down the arms to the end of the fingers.

PARALYSIS AND RHEUMATISM.

In case of paralysis of the lower limbs: Commence with your right hand on
the head, and pass down over the spine with your left hand at the bottom.
When you have made a few passes thus, then place your left hand at the feet and
rub down the limbs, and out of the toes, and likewise the arms. In cases where
the muscles are rigid wet your hands in warm water. Rheumatism may be
treated in the same manner as paralysis.

TOOTHACHE, NEURALGIA, ETC.

There are two ways of curing the toothache ; one is by calling ofT the mind,
and concentrating the attention upon something else (upon the principle that
there is no pain where there is no consciousness), and the other by attracting, or
repelling the electricity which has become unduly concentrated upon the nerve
of the tooth, to some other part of the body, and producing a balance of circula-
tion. In magnetizing the nerve, place your left hand at the back of the head,
upon the organ of concentrativeness, and with your right hand upon the tooth,

HYPNOTISM.

»9i

commence to draw up toward the left hand — always usinj; the tips of the fini^ers.
The same method will apply to neuraljj^ia of the face and head.

si,Ki:i'i.i:ss\i:ss.

Where you find a patient troubled with sleeplessness, it is a good thing to
place the feet in warm water for a few minutes before retiring, and treat mag-
netically as you would for brain fever; that is, moisten the hair, and beginning
with the front part of the head, moving back over the top and sides with your
right hand, and down the spine, and out at the extremities. In addition to this
try to impress upon the mind of the patient the idea that he will lind great
relief from the treatment, and that he will sleep soundly.

From what has been said upon the treatment of diseases, you will perceive
that in all forms of disease you use the right haml to scatter, and the left hand to
attract the circulation. Hence, where there is debility, or an inactive condition
of muscular or nervous power, you should apply the negative to such parts, with
the positive to some other part where the circulation or action has been
increased.

DEGREES AND EFFECTS OF HYPNOTISM.

Hypnotism causes changes in the physical and psychical life that border
on the wonderful and the seemingly impossible. There are so many different
degrees of the hypnotic sleep that no one description is generally applicable to
the phenomena. Kluge, of Berlin, gives no less than seven different stages in
his classification. The}' are as follows :

I. Waking: the sensory organs are still in full activity, but the limbs have
slightly increased functions. 2. Half-sleep: incomplete crisis; feeling of heavi-
ness in the eyes, which close ; but the patient can hear and is not yet asleep.
3. Magnetic sleep : restful, deep, refreshing slumber, without memory on
waking. 4. Simple somnambulism : talking and acting in the sleep under the
influence of the magnetizer ; the '^ bomuiloque" and "crisoloque" of the l^^rench.
5. Clairvoyance, with increased interior consciousness. 6. Ecstasy : far-seeing
in time and space ; conception of past, present and future events, which is
otherwise lacking in the ordinary conscious state. 7. Trance.

Charcot accepts three main stages, i. The Cataleptic, 2. the Lethargic
and 3. the Somnambulistic stage.

The cataleptic occurs primarily under the influence of an intense and
unexpected noise, a strong light placed under the eyes, or by staring at some
object. Concentration of the attention, of the imagination or even a moral
impression may also produce catalepsy. Even in healthy persons a passing
catalepsy sometimes occurs under the influence of sudden fear, wrath, etc.

The characteristic feature of catalepsy is the immobility, the statue-like
attitude. The eyes are open and staring ; the tears accumulate and run over

»f«

(ILIMI'SKS OK THK UNSKKN.

from want of motion in the eyelids; respiration has ahnost ceased. Without
apparent fatigue, the limbs retain the most difficult positions m which they are
placed, but make no resistance to change of attitude. Muscular reflex-action
is absent, as also the increased nervous irritability of the muscles, characteristic
of the lethargic state. By mechanical irritation of muscles and nerves contrac-
tion is not produced, but rather a loss of elasticity. The skin is insensible to
the strongest irritation, but certain senses — such as the muscular sense, vision
and especially hearing — partly at least retain their activity, by which they are
susceptible to suggestion. A communicated position produces ideas in the
brain corresponding to the attitude; it also produces mimic expressions and
motions in the same direction. So, for instance, if the fingers of the cataleptic
person are placed on his mouth in kissing position, a smile will appear on his
lips.

Catalepsy ceases, either by return to normal condition or by changing into
lethargy. A slight irritation — such as blowing in the face or pressing on the
ovaries in hysterical persons — is enough to awaken the cataleptic. At once
the subject returns to the real world. The closing of the eyelids or the soften-
ing of the light will, on the contrary, transfer them to the lethargic state.

The lethargic stage may be produced by staring or by continuous gentle
pressure on the eyeballs through tiie lowered upper eyelids. The lethargic
stage is often preceded by some epileptic phenomena, such as motions of swal-
lowing, guttural sounds, asthmatic respiration, foaming mouth or rigidity.

The principal characteristics of lethargy are : Complete insensibility of the
skin and mucous membranes, increased irritability of the motor nerves and, as
a rule, insusceptibility to suggestion or imparted hallucination. The eyes
remain closed or half-closed, turned upward and inward, the eyelids generally
trembling. The body is perfectly relaxed, the limbs are lax and pendent, and
falls heavily back, if lifted and then released ; respiration is deep and quickened.
The spinal cord is in an over-excited s'ate and the reflex action of the tendons
increased, that is, the corresponding muscle, or sometimes even others, will
contract by percussion or stroking on its tendon.

The somnambulistic state — psj-chologically the m.ost interesting — is pro-
duced either primarily by staring or other ordinary methods of hypnotizing, or
secondarily from the cataleptic or lethargic state by a gentle pressure or friction
of the hand on the cranium, sometimes almost spontaneously. It is the som-
nambulistic state that is generally produced by magnetizers, and by all the
methods which act upon the imagination.

The somnambulistic state is characterized by the same insensibility to
pain, of the skin and mucous membranes, as in the lethargic state, but the
senses are often quickened to a high degree ; the muscular irritability is normal ;
there is no increased sensitiveness as during lethargy ; by excitation of the

liYI'NOllSM.

293

cutaneous nerves muscular contraction is caused, whicli, however, does not
change into lastin;^ contraction — contrary to the lethar;^Mc state, vvliere contrac-
tion is caused only by excitation that roaches through the skin to a muscle,
nerve, or tendon. The eyes an; generally closed, but may also be half or wholly
open, yet witiiout winking of the eyelids.

Pressure on the eyelids immediately causes lethargy ; pressure on the e)e
produces hemi-Iethargy of the corresponding half of the body, while the other
half remains semi-somnambulistic.

The mental faculties of the somnambulisf are highly sharpened ; he answers
questions and is easily led through the most varied suggestions. There is hardly
any limit to what can be produced by suggestion, and the actions of the som-
nambule often border on the marvelous.

In this condition suggestion is .ill powerful. Suggest to the somnambule
that he is some other person, and he instantly assumes the character. He
seems capable of doing what in his ordinary condition he could not do. His
imagination is in a most active condition and accepts without question any and
every suggestion made, however unreasonable or absurd. Thus, a man may be
easily led to believe himself a horse or to ride a chair believing it to be a bicycle
or to see and hear what does not exist, exhibiting, meantime, all the natural
effects that would follow such sights or hearing.

The muscles are peculiarly sensitive to hypnotic intluence. This is ex-
hibited in the mobility of the limbs, and in the form and hardness of the
muscles themselves.

Another hypnotic muscular anomaly is the oeneral r/s>/(f//y or fe/anits, which
is sometimes produced by a mere breathing on the neck. By this a sudden and
continuous contraction of the muscles of the trunk and extremities arises, just
as a frog poisoned by strychnia becomes tetanized at the slightest touch. The
whole body becomes rigid as a stick, and the muscles as hard as stone. It is
this experiment that is so much abused by professional magnetizers, who boast
of their cruel trick of letting a tetanized person stay suspended between a couple
of chairs, wi^^h support only tor the neck and feet, and of even sitting upon the
unfortunate victim, to show the hardness of his tetanized muscles. Such experi-
ments are so much the more dangerous in that the tetanus may also ext mi to
the respiratory muscles and the heart, when li(e is endangered.

The most varied mimical expressions of joy, pain, fear, wrath, astonish-
ment, etc., may be produced by excitation of special muscles of the face.
According to the method of Duchenne, a small stick, round at the end, by which
pressure is made on such points of nerves or muscles as iiave shown sensitive-
ness to faradic excitation, completely substitutes the electric current, during the
lethargic state. A constant feature, and one common to all hypnotic stages,
however, is insensibility to pain {analgesia) from pricking, pir^-hing, burning,
etc., while the sensibility to touch may at the same time remain in the skin.

V't.

r \

294

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

The effect upon the senses is truly wonderful. The sense of hearing is
sometimes increased fourteenfold. A lady is mentioned who, in the hypnotic
condition, had so acute a sense of smell that at a distance of forty-six feet,
blindfolded, she could follow a rose just as surely as a hound follows a hare.

The sense of sight can also be highly sharpened. A remarkable proof of
this was exhibited a couple of years ago by Taguet, before the medico-psycho-
logical Society of Paris. A young girl had from childhood shown the ordinary
symptoms of hysteria. At nine years of age she had had hystero-epileptic fits.
After many vain attempts she was at last successfully hypnotized, and then sev-
eral interesting phenomena appeared, which by this author are described thus. :

" While Noelie is in a convulsive crisis, in catalepsy, or in lethary;y, which
we successively cause by different pressures, we draw on her lace some lines,
with a lead pencil or with ink, some distinct, others hardly noticeable. We now
put her into a somnambulistic state and hold before her a flat object, usually
one with a dull, not a reflecting surface, a piece of pasteboard for instance.
She has hardly glanced at this before she expresses her astonishment that her
face is soiled, and she wipes off one line after another, using the pasteboard as a
real looking-glass. The pasteboard has to be turned to and fro, in order that
all lines may be detected. Behind her head, yet so that their reflections in the
pasteboard can reach her eyes, we place various objects, such as a ring, a watch,
a pipe, paper dolls, coins, lead pencils ; she sees them, describes and names
them, sometimes slowly, however. For instance, when instead of a watch a
ten centime piece was rapidly exhibited she still tried to read the hour, but
suddenly she exclaimed : ' The watch is gone I This is two sous.' "

In somnambulism the senses are not only awake, they are generally highly
acute. This applies to the mental faculties generally. Among the sharpened
mental faculties memory takes the first place ; indeed it can be said that it is
principally the memory that masters the whole scene of the somnambulic drama.
Under different circumstances the memory proves exceedingly good or partic-
ularly dull. It is a very characteristic and constant fact that the deeply-
hypnotized, upon waking, remember nothing of all that has taken place during
the sleep, whereas, if again put to sleep, they then very clearly remember what
they have thought or experienced during previous hypnoses. It seems as if
there were two separate forms of life, the normal, wakeful life and the somnam-
bulistic life, each with its experience, its memory; that the two spheres are
rather independent of each other ; that the personality is doubled, as it were.
These spheres are not entirely without connection, for it is a second character-
istic quality of the somnambulistic memory, that it holds not only remembrances
from previous somnambulic states, but also from the wakeful state, and these
much more lively than the normal. As long-forgotten things can return during
natural sleep in dreams, so the memory during hypnosis can show an incredible

HYJ'NOTISM.

29s

hat
Is if
im-
lare
ire.
ter-
jces
lese

ling
Ible

acuteness as to past events and impressions received long a<:[o, which otherwise
in the wakeful state cannot be brou^^ht to consciousness even with the <;reatest
elfort. By this acuteness of the memory, the ability of^ the somnambulist to
recite poetry can be explained, as also the fact that he can express himself in
foreign languages, of which he formerly had only a slight knowledge.

There is, however, a means, but only one, of restoring to memory in the
wakeful state that which has passed during the hypnosis, viz.: suggestion. If
you assure a hypnotized person during his sleep, that upon waking he will
remember all that he has heard, said or done in his sleep, he will then remember
it upon awaking; otherwise he will not. It is essentially necessary that the
hand of an oULsidor put this mechanism of memory into motion; the subject
himself cannot do it. But that is not all ; by suggestion you may in the same
way so thoroughly obliterate memory, with reference to both the wakeful and
the hypnotic states, so that it even does not return as usual in later hypnoses.
This has a great practical significance, especially from a juridical point of view,
to which we shall later return.

Another very peculiar fact of hypnosis is the Intent, unconscious memory.
There seems to be hardly any limit to this latent memory. Beaunis cjuotes one
case, where the action was performed after 172 days ; others tell of still greater
differences in the time between the suggestion and the execution. When the
action is then performed, it is not on account of a conscious remembering that
it should be done, but through an unconscious and irresistible impulse, without
the motives being clear to consciousness. This is something very peculiar, and
has no analogy within the normal functions of memory. For instance, I tell the
hypnotized person that on the tenth day after this at five p.m., he will open a
certain book and read page 25. Although the idea of opening the prescribed
page of the book unconsciously lingers in his brain, and is so strong that u
absolutely compels him to do it when the fixed hour has arrived, he can not
even be reminded of this idea before the appointed hour, even if the said page
of the book is shown to him. Only when the right hour has come, are the
memory of the action and the impulse to it awakened.

THE POWER OF SUGGESTION IN HYPNOTISM.

Suggestion generally implies an inspiration from without. It might be said
that by this word is meant every operation which in a living being causes some
involuntary effect, the impulse to which passes through the intellect, producing
some imagination or idea, or simply control over a person by means of an idea-
On one hypnotized a contracture is produced in the muscle that bends the arm
by squeezing the muscle, or without touching it, by saying: "Your arm is bent;
you cannot straighten it." In the former case the proceeding is purely physical;
in the latter case the excitation goes through the organ of hearing to the t^ame

996

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

sphere. All suggestion is thus mediated through an " ideation " or action of ideas or
illusions. The great susceptibility of the organism to influence from such idea-
tions explains the important role that is played by imagination in the causing
and curing of certain diseases. There are many roads to the brain centre. The
simplest, shortest, and most convenient is that of the spoken word. This is
verbal suggestion in which the somnambulist is told he is seeing, or hearing, or
feeling this or that, he will do this or that.

Suggestion may also come by the attituues of the body. This form of sug-
gestion is by the French called ** suo^estion par attitude^ For instance, if you
place some one in the attitude of prayer, without mentioning by a single word
that he is going to pray, the mere position awakens in his brain the idea of
prayer, and not only his position but also his facial expression then shows that
he is exclusively thinking of prayer. If he is placed in a tragic attitude his face
assumes a tragical expression; if his fist is clinched, his eyebrows contract and
anger is reflected on his face. If he is made to commence a movement with
some distinct aim he continues the movement himself. If he is placed on all
fours his locomotion is that of a quadruped. If a pen is placed in his hand he
will write ; if some fancy work with needle and thread is placed in the hands of a
woman she begins to sew. The positions in which the hypnotized are placed
easily create corresponding ideas in the degree that they are expressive and
common. Another form may be called " auto-suggestion or self-suggestion."

Concerning these cases of self-suggestion, so-called, it might, however, be
remarked that although the later ideas have arisen in the brain of the patients
themselves, yet they are really but a continuation, a logical sequel of the ideas
that had previously arisen through, impulse from without.

Such an independent and yet irresistible completion of an idea, so that it even
changes into feeling, desire, and action, is generally found in the somnambulists,
yet with far more lack of freedom than in the wakeful.

Beaunis quotes several striking instances of this.

After he had hypnotized Miss E., he said : '* When you awake you will say
to Mrs. A. : 'I should like very much to have a few cherries I ' " Awhile after
waking she went to her friend, Mrs. A., and whispered something to her. B.
then said : " I know what you whispered ; that you longed for cherries."
** How do you know that ? " she said, quite astonished. On the following day
she bought some cherries to satisfy her violent longing for them. Mark well,
that B. had merely suggested the words, but through the words she had spoken
the desire had arisen ; all of which shows the close connection between words,
ideas, and sensation. The expression of the desire blends with the desire itself.
Yet it is not so in a waking person. If I repeat ever so many times the words :
" I desire cherries," then, unless I already had the desire for them, I certainly
do not conceive it by merely repeating these words. Nor am I compelled to

HYPNOTISM.

297

write because I take a pen in my hand. This shows that in the hypnotized the
associations of ideas are more automatic, i lore dependent upon external circum-
stances, whereas, in the wakeful state, they are controlled, regulated, checked,
when necessary, and generally guided by a conscious free will.

By suggestion all sorts of illusions may be produced in the hypnotized
subject. These suggested illusions can affect all the senses, and can be varied
ad infinHum according to the will of the hypnotizer. By deception of sight the
room may be changed into a street, a garden, a cemetery, a lake ; present
persons may be made to change appearance, strangers to appear, objects to
change form and color. On a blank sheet of paper all possible figures can be
made to appear to the imagination ; the hypnotized can even be made to cast up
long accounts with the numbers that they imagine they see on the paper.

To the hearing the voices of unknown persons can be made to sound like
those of friends ; under complete silence sounds of birds and various animals
can be produced, as can also voices, that speak gently or loudly, that praise,
insult, or scold.

The sense of taste can be so deceived that raw potatoes taste like the mcst
delicious peaches ; that the sweet tastes sour, the sour sweet ; even vomiting may
be caused by merely declaring a draught of water, after t is in the stomach, to
be an emetic.

The sense of smell can be made to find the strongest odor in objects that
have no smell at all, or to find the fragrance of roses in assafoetida, or abomin-
able odors in a fragrant rose.

The sense of touch can be deceived and cheated in various ways. In the
part of the body that is declared insensible, incisions can be made with sharp
needles, burning irons, or keen-edged knives without being noticed. The pain
from an imaginary wound also arouses other hallucinations — blood seems to run
and the wound is carefully bandaged.

Suggestion can affect the muscular sense — so that objects seem heavy or the
reverse — as also the organic sense or ccencesthesls, by which all kinds of natural
desires (hunger, thirst, etc.) can be aroused or appeased. This organic sense
can be so completely deceived that the hypnotized individual believes himself to
be an entirely different person.

An amusing instance of this kind is told by Binet and Fer6 : One day they
said to the hypnotized Miss X. that she was Dr. F. After some slight opposi-
tion she agreed to it. Upon waking she did not see Dr. F., who stood before
her, but she imitated his walk, his gestures, his speech ; from time to time she
put her fingers to her lips and made a motion, as if she twisted a moustache, as
the doctor was in the habit of doing, and she assumed a pompous mien and
posture. At the question : " Do you know Miss X. ?" she hesitated a moment,

agS

GLIMPSES OK THE UNSEEN.

then shrugged her shoulders in contempt, and said : " Oh, yes, she is an hysterical
woman." " Well ! how do you like her ? " " Oh 1 she is a fool."

Among the very singular facts demonstrated by scientific experimenters in
hypnotism which show the nature and power of suggestion we may mention
the following:

An idea inspired, even long before, during hypnotic sleep, reappears spon-
taneously in the brain at a certain time, without appearing to memory or
consciousness during the whole interval. Nay! This hidden, latent memory
seems to be much surer, much more reliable, than the wakeful one, which very
easily forgets details that are minutely preserved by the latent, somnambulistic
memory.

Every sense can be separately hypnotized by the power of suggestion and
neutralized, the patient being made blind, deaf, insensible, etc. Several senses
may be hypnotized at one time so that a person can be made to wholly dis-
appear to a somnambulist or may be made apparent to one sense and not
apparent to another. In this way a person present can even be made partially
to disappear, so that only his head, arms, hands or feet become perceptible;
and the queerest situations can thus be caused ; or the somnambulist can be
made to perceive an object or a person with one sense, and not with the other —
so, for instance, that he hears a person standing beside him, but does not see
him ; but does not feel his touch.

By suggestion the memory can be acted upon not only in a quantitative
direction, suppressing or strengthening it, but, what is worse, also in a qualitative
respect, so that it can be changed ; it can be given another, a fictitious or false
tenor. As hallucinations can be produced which first appear in the future, so
retro-active hallucinations, so-called, or hallucinations of memory can also be
produced. For instance, the hypnotized person can be made ti think that on
a certain occasion he has witnessed this or that occurrence, and in his memory
these facts afterwards remain impressed with such vividness that without hesi-
tation he will tell them as the truth at a serious trial before a court. It is easy
to imagine the dangerous consequences of such hallucinations if they are abused
before a jury.

By suggestion the heart can be made to >eat more rapidly or more slowly;
congestion may be caused on a limited part of the skin, even amountin<^, in
some cases, to a blister. The following experiment is related by Bjornstrom in
his " Hypnotism : "

The experiments W2re made on a young girl — -Elise F. — first by Facachon,
then also by Beaur.is. One day, when Elise complained of a pain in the left
groin, F. made her believe, after he had hypnotized her, that a blister would
form on the aching spot, just as from a plaster of Spanish flies. The next
morning, there appeared on the left groin a blister filled with serum, although
nothing had been applied there.

HYPNOTISM.

299

According to unquestionable testimony, there are a number of cases of
somnambulists, both in ancient and modern times, showing ability to feel the
hidden sufferings of others, to feel another's pain in the corresponding part of
their own bodies, and in this manner, without further direction, to discover the
internal disorders of others. This form of mental suggestion has been called
"organic sympathism." In 1825, the Paris Academy of Medicine found this
question to be of such importance, that they appointed a committee who investi-
gated the matter for five years before they published their report, written by
Dr. Husson and wholly corroborating the above mentioned power of the som-
nambulists.

Repeated experiments have shown that an idea or an act of the will may be
transmitted, and that some persons at least can be hypnotized at a distance
without knowing it or against his will. Mental suggestion can overcome dis-
tance, not only in space but also in time, that is to say, the will of the operator
can be executed at a later time prescribed by him, and not merely at the same
moment — as we have seen in the verbal suggestions.

There can be no doubt that hypnotic suggestion places in the hands of
teachers and parents an instrument of great power for the formation of character
in the young. Bjornstrum declares: If you have more obstinate, deeply
depraved or vicious children, the suggestion has better effect during hypnotic
sleep. By repeated 5(?awc^5 you will succeed, even in difficult cases, in correcting
bad instincts and in making the children good, virtuous and attentive. Hypnotic
suggestion, guided by an experienced physician, should be tried in all such cases,
at least where other educational attempts have failed. Feuchtersleben, especi-
ally, in his " Hygiene de I'Ame," strongly advises that you should try to develop
children's gifts, by making them believe that they already have a certain
ability in the direction of what you wish to develop.

This outline summary of facts regarding hypnotism would be incomplete
did we not offer a few statements and a word of warning concerning the dangers
attending all exercise of this power by those not skilled in the art. Hypnotism
is a great scientific lact, but its practice is attended with great danger. No one
should allow himself to be hypnotized without the fullest confidence in the
skill and good intentions of the hypnotizer, and no one should endeavor to
hypnotize without a course of instruction from an adept in the art. Many a
time it has happened that an ignorant magnetizer has been able to hypnotize
but not to dehypnotize ; thus the nervous system may suffer irremediable injury.
By a few hypnoses, many women, who previously had only a slumbering dis-
position to hysteria, have had this disease brought to full activity with violent
hysterical attacks.

From all this we find that hypnotism is not to be trifled with ; that it can
harm in various ways, and that it requires all the skill and conscientiousness of
an experienced physician to properly use this powerful agency.

300

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

We cannot conclude our summary better than by adding several extracts
from an able and instructive article in the New Review entitled "The Common
Sense of Hypnotism," by Lloyd Stovr-Beste. After an able introduction he sum-
marizes his teaching as follows :

I. That general consciousness varies directly with external stimuh'.

II. That general consciousness varies inversely with the intensity of atten-
tion upon one idea or set of ideas.

III. That attention may be so ** strained" as to pass beyond the control ot
the v^rill and to destroy the general consciousness.

IV. That attention upon one idea or group of ideas may be so great as to
prevent that group being remembered in the normal mental condition.

For the synthesis of hypnosis let us add one other well-known and generally
admitted law.

V. That an idea tends always to generate its actuality either as sensation
or action.

What is meant by this is that the idea of an action or of a sensation tends
to result in that action or sensation, and would inevitably do so were it un-
checked, uninhibited by other ideas. That the nervous processes attending
the real and ideal phenomenon differ only in strength. For example, when I
think of moving my hand, the same nervous tracts are affected as when I actually
move it, but the nervous tension in the former case is weaker than in the latter,
and may not, owing to the antagonism of other ideas, result in actual motion.
Once, however, let an idea obtain undisputed possession of the mind to the
exclusion of others, and it inevitably generates its actuality. The general laws
offeree hold good in psycho-physiology. An idea has always "its full effect in
its own direction," and we might with justice consider any action as the result
of the "composition " of many ideas, some tending for, others against, its per-
formance. This principle lies at the bottom of that tendency to imitate, which
is common to the whole animal creation, adequately accounts for suicidal
epidemics and criminal infection in general. Thus, when a "shocking" case
of suicide has been reported in all its ghastly details it is by no means surprising
that an exceptionally impressionable mind should be seized and held by the
idea of suicide, which idea works itself out with a fatal certainty when it has
gained full possession of the poor creature's brain. " If ever you should wish
to cut your throat," jokingly said the professor to a student, '• don't bungle it
as this poor fellow has," and pointed to a man who had been brought in with
his head nearly sawn off. The professor proceeded to demonstrate with great
earnestness how all-sufficient for the purpose was a small nick in the carotid
artery, and next day the student was accoidmgly found with his throat cut in
t e most neat and artistic fashion.

The fact that an idea may be swelled to perception or sensation is well

HYl'NOTISM.

301

exemplified by a case vouched for by the eminent physiologist, Bennett. A
butcher, in the act of placing ri heavy piece of meat on a hook above his head,
slipped, and was held suspended by the hook, which had passed through his
upper arm. He was immediately released, and carried in a half-fainting condi-
tion, groaning with agony, tJ the nearest surgeon. As his coat was being
removed, shrieks were forced from him by the intense pain. It was discovered,
however, that he was wholly uninjured, the hook having passed through the coat
only, without even grazing the flesh. That many have died from diseases which
were purely ideal ab initio, such as imagined hydrophobia, is beyond the range
of doubt. Indeed, not long ago, several distinguished physicians were thus led
into the grave error of considering hydrophobia /;/ every case to be psychical in
its origin. Upon ideal perception we need not dwell, as we find an instatice of
it in every hallucination, in every vivid dream, and it is well known to be a
frequent source of error in human testimony.

And now, after these lengthy prolegomena, I would ask my readers — if
any yet remain — to consider briefly the bearing ot the principles we have dis'
cussed upon hypnotic phenomena. Let us treat the hypnosis synthetically, and
attempt to develop it in an imaginary patient by the application of laws which
govern all mental manifestations.

In the first place, in order to obtain the minimum of general intellectual
activity, we shut off, as far as we can, impulses from che external world. We
]ilace the patient in a position of rest and comfort, that auditory and tactile
" stimuli " may be as small as possible, while we minimize ocular impressions
by causing him to regard fixedly a single point of light, or by closmg his eyes.
At this point our patient is probably thinking with considerable vigour; he
wonders what is going to happen to him, analyzes his sensations, compares them
with what he expected to experience, while his general mental attitude is dis-
tinctly unfavourable to the lethargy we wish to produce — an attitude of curiously
critical introspection. One hostile element has, however, in great measure
disappeared. Thought, whose very essence is the recognition of differences, is
no longer stimulated by an ever-varying environment, the consciousness is
diminished in extent, and the attention ready to leap forward to the operator's
words or actions. With what weapons shall we attack the residual meiital
activity maintained in great measure, not by present sensation, but by those
regenerated by memory ? We know that in such degree as we can bind atten-
tion to one set of ideas, will grneral consciousness and power of attention to
other things diminish. We k:.ow, too, that an ideal sensation tends to become
actual, and fails to do so only when impeded by other affections of consciousness.
Thus have we two strings to our bow. We attract our patient's attention, and
hold it riveted by the vivid verbal development of a mental picture of sleep.
As our delineation increases in vividness and emphasis, his attention becomes

3oa

GLIMI'SKS OF rUH UNSKKN.

more and more "cramped," introspective criticism chaniresto intense conviction,
as one by one su<i[<;ested sensations become actual, as his limbs ^/o become lieavy
and numb, his eyelids weary and his brain drowsy and confused. At this point
our patient is entrapped in a vicious circle. The more he is struck by the
translcrence of suggested idea into sensation, the more is his attention engrossed,
and conversely, the more concentrated his attention upon the suggested idea,
the more complete and rapid the transformation of that idea into its actuality.
Finally, the patient's attention passes altogether beyond the power of the will.
He can not attend to anything but the operator's words, and is consequently
unconscious of everything else. He is now in a mono- deal condition, and if we
wish to use so extremely vague a word, has an abnormal personality.

m m * ^ m m *

Thus far, in my treatment of the subject, I have of set purpose avoided
discussing hypnosis from a physiological standpoint, partly because the theories
involved are too complex, and would necessitate the use of terms too technical
for a magazine article, and partly because I hold our knowledge of cerebral
functionation less sure and stable than that which we possess ot psychical pro-
cesses. I consider, too, that in the elucidation of phenomena primarily psychical,
our first efforts should be directed towards the explanation of them as mental ;
that then, and not till then, should we endeavour to formulate their physiological
correlations. We have at length, however, reached a point v/here reference to
physiological data becomes unavoidable, for it has yet to be shown in what way
this condition of hypnosis can aid us in the treatment of disease. Upon its
employment as a means of inducing surgical anaesthesia I need not dilate, as
nothing in the way of explanation will be needed by those who have followed
me so far. It must not be thought, however, that there is any immediate pro-
spect of hypnotism superseding chloroform, ether or nitrous oxide, for compared
with these it labors under disadvantages. It is of no service, generally speaking,
in emergency cases, as the patient needs preparation before an operation, and
it is by no means so easy and certain of application. Still, for those who have
sufficient time, and are susceptible enough, hypnotism is immeasurably the best
of anaesthetics ; as also for those to whom it is unadvisable, owing to heart or
lung affections, to administer chloroform or ether.

Why should hypnotism be of use as a therapeutic agent ? We know, of
course, that it is, but why ? Unless some reply to this question be forthcoming,
hypnotic practice must needs be as empirical as the medical treatment of the
Middle Ages, and its results as uncertain as those of the modern exhibition
of drugs.

In the first place, it is patent that by means of hypnotism we can act
directly upon morbid mental conditions, being able by reiterated suggestion to
create or destroy any fixed idea or habit. Thus the dipso-maniac, thoroughly

HVl'NOTLSM.

3«»3

he
Hon

Let
to

hypnotized and inoculated, so to speak, with the horror of intoxicants, positively
loathes the sij>;lit of alcohol, and feels no loii<j;er the terrible craving' which
formerly overpowered his most determined resistance. The morpliino-maniac
is made to cease his pernicious indulgence in morphia, and escapes, too, the
awful Nemesis that under normal circumstances awaits the discontinuance of
the drug. In incipient melancholia, the persistently recurring ideas of suicide
may be "suggested away," and the patient rescued from the vicious circle
wherein morbid, mental and bodily conditions perpetually act and react. In
brief, the prejudicial idea is removed, and in its stead one tending healtliw.irds
is branded indelibly, as it were, upon a mind rendered impressionable as soft
metal b> ihe fierce flame of attention at its hottest. The hypnotist, then, can
directly " minister to a mind diseased," and break habits injurious to health.
But it is not through evil habits alone that the mind reacts prejudicially upon
the body, by inspiring actions which are essentially harmful. From the earliest
times, the ceaseless reciprocal inter-play of physical and mental conditions has
been recognized ; so much so, indeed, that in all ages we constantly find
psychical remedies prescribed for bodily diseases, and conversely special drugs
for various forms of mental derangement. The ancients recommended hellebore
for insanity ; the homoeopaths of the last century were prepared to cure those
afflicted with love (!), hatred, despondency, etc., by such medicines as aconite
and Pulsatilla. On the other hand, the great influence of emotional conditions
upon organic function has been universally admitted from Aristotle downwards,
and the efficacy of belief to produce the physical result anticipated has been
again and again emphasized. Thus Paracelsus, writing in the sixteenth century,
distinctly states it as his opinion that the marvellous cures effected by amulets,
charms and the like, depended not upon any virtue inherent in these things,
but entirely upon the belief in their efficacy.

We have mentioned above the intimate connection which obtains between
bodily and mental states. That such connection was much closer than was
hitherto suspected has been recently proved by the researches of modern sci-
entists. The experiments of Kichet, Mosso and Strieker conclusively demon-
strate that every psychical state has its dynamic correlate, attended by objective
phenomena, and that every change of mental condition is accompanied by
specific vascular modifications. For example, as Strieker has shown us, there
can take place no mental presentation of a word without appreciable movement
in the muscles used in articulation, the very conception of the word as spoken
seeming to depend in some way upon a closed circuit of nervous impulses to
and from those muscles. We are all familiar, I suppose, with the fact that
steady attention directed to a given part of the body will at length result in
some sensation, such as warmth or tingling, in that part; but only recently has
proof been given by definite experiment and actual measurement that such

304

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSKKN.

attention is invariably accompanied by a physical change in the part — namely,
an enlargement of the blood-vessels which supply it. This we find well exempli-
fied by the phenomenon of blushing. An individual, much stared at by others,
turns his attention to his face ; the moment he thinks of it he feels a sensation
of increased warmth, the blood-vessels relax, the blood supply is increased, the
skin reddens. As Bain has pointed out, too, the area of the blush corresponds
to the parts of the body usually exposed to the public gaze. This organic influ-
ence of attention likewise explains both the "stigmata " of history and those
experimentally produced under hypnosis. (The bleeding from the hands and
feet which occurred in the well-known case of St. Francis d'Assisi was undoubt-
edly, I think, the result of the "determination of blood " to those parts by the
rapt imagination of them as bearing the same marks as the Crucified Christ.
Now, in the case of a hypnotized patient we are enabled to turn the whole of the
attention to any part of the body and bind it fast by creating there, through
suggestion, a continuous sensation, of which the inevitable result will be an
increased flow of blood through the arteries supplying that part. Indeed, we
may go so far as to create a pathological condition and set up inflammatory
processes, of which the starting point is, of course, always congestion of the
blood-vessels differing not at all in nature from the emotional congestion of
b'ushing, and produce a blister, followed by suppuration, etc.

In conclusion, then, does it not seem likely, in the light of these facts, that
we should be able by means of hypnotic treatment to modify morbid processes,
to arrest structural degeneration, and to awaken to more vigorous life the dis-
eased part by improving itb nutrition through an augmentation of its blood supply?

CHAPTER XI.

CHRISTIAN SCIliNCE AND lAITH CURE.
Introductory Essay by the Eililor,

WHILE Christian Science and Mind-Curo are new terms in the vocabulary
ol beliefs, some ol" the basal doctrines underlyinj; iheni have lonj^ been held
as articles of faith by many. That, relatively, too little iniporianci; has
been placed upon the (act that man is a spiritual bein<;, and too much importance
has been attached to man's physical nature, few who have studied attentively
the phenomena of matter and mind will be disposed to dtn)-. Our j^hysical
natures too lar<^ely dominate our thoughts and control our coniluct and, in many
ways, usurp the claims and powers of the real man, who is as truly a spirit as
God is a spirit. Aj^ain, no one who has looked into the phenomena of our
complex nature doubts for a moment the influence exerted by the physical
nature upon the spiritual, or the wonderful power which the spiritual exerts upon
the physical organism. The marvelous philosophy of faith, as tauf^ht and
exemplified by Christ in his miracles of healin^^ and illustrated in all ages and
in all lands by those who have had the gift of healing, is only beginning to be
understood by the world at large. Christ's prophecy, "greater works than
these shall ye do," contains a meaning which future generations may well study
but can scarcely exhaust.

All these facts may, however, be admitted, and much more, without
accepting the extreme and, in many ways, absurd conclusions of " Christian
Science," so-called, which in reality would require us to reverse all our ordinary
modes of reasoning and discard the testimony of our senses.

Christian Science and Mind-Cure may be regarded as the extreme of the
swinging pendulum of thought from the opposing materialism of the age. Some
regard Christian Science and Mind-Cure as one and the same. Others point
out radical distinctions between the two. With some, Christian Science is
interpreted as an advanced Christianity. Others regard it as a refined Panthe-
ism. Some pronounce it a delusion and snare and deny that its teachings have
any practical value to the world.

We are disposed to regard it more favorably and to admit that it contains
some truth of value to ♦■he world, and the truth that needs to be emphasized in
this materialistic day — but yet truth so distorted, so exaggerated out of all
proportion and harmony with other truths and accompanied by so much of error,
that it really becomes a dangerous form of teaching.

Mrs. Mary Baker Glover Eddy, President of the Massachusetts Metaphy-
sical College, claims to have been the first to use the phrase, "Christian Science."

II 1

III '.

U '

1 1 1

' ■

!' 1 M

i: M

^ m

306

C.I.IMI'SKS UK THK UNSKKN.

She says: " It was in Massachusetts, in the year 18M6, that I discDvea'd
tlie Science of Metaphysical Hcahnjj;, which I afterwards named Chrisiia:>
Science. The discovery came to pass in this way. Durinj^ twenty years prior
to my (hscovcr)' I had hecn tryini,' to trace all physical I'flects to a mental cause;
and in January of iSHO I {gained the scientific certainty that all sensation was
mind and every ellect a mental phenomenon." She also states that about
1862 iier health was failinj.,' rajndly and slu; "einployed a distini^uislied mes-
merist, Mr. P. P. (Juimby, a sensible, elderly j,'(!ntleman with some advanced
views about healinj;. There were no Metaphysical Healers then. The science
of Mind-IIealin«4 had not been discovered."

Two rival schools have been developed, one looking to Mrs. Eddy as
founder and one to Mr. Quimby. Mrs. Eddy writes on this point : " The
cowardly claim that I am not tiie orif|[inator of my own writinfj;, but that one
P. P. (Juimby is, has been legally met and punished. Mr. Quimby died in
1863, and my first knowledge of Christian Science or Metaphysical Mealing was
gained in 1866. . . . When he doctored me I was ignorant of the nature of
mesmerism, but subsequent knowledge has convinced me that he practiced it."
She also tells how, when given up by her physicians to die from an accident
resulting in what her physicans called "a fatal injury," she was told she would
not live until noon, but assured her friends that by that time she would be well.
One of her assistants ieclared that " while she knew she was healed by the
gracious exercise of the divine power, she was indisposed to make an old-time
miracle of it." After some years of meditation she concluded she was healed
in accordance with spiritual laws which could be learned and clearly stat' (L
She then began both to teach and to write, having, however, before this, taught
a purely metaphysical system of healing to, as she says, " the very first student
who was ever instructed since the days of the Apostles and the primitive
Church." In 1870 she copyrighted her first pamphlet, but did not publish it
until 1876. In that year she organized the Christian Scientist Association, and
in 1879, at a meeting of that Association, she organized a Church, *' a Mind-
Healing Church, without creeds, called 'the Church of Christ." She accepted
a call to this Church and was ordained its pastor in Boston, in 1881. A College
in connection tlierewith flourishes and graduating courses in Christian Science,
Mind- Healing, Metaphysical Obstetrics, Theology, etc., embracing from six to
twelve lectures, in terms of a few weeks each, have been laid out and successfully
inaugurated. These courses cost from ij^ioo to $300, the complete system
costing about S800, exclusive of board. Sixty-six women and twenty-nine men
are advertised as practitioners in the Christian Science magazines, and the end
is not yet, for two colleges of similar character are advertised in New York, four
in Chicago, one in Milwaukee, one in Brooklyn and one in Colorado. In some
of these, we are told, a complete course can be given for twenty-five dollars.

CHRISTIAN SCIKNCE,

.^07

ImpostfTs liavinp arisen, Mrs. luUly has warned tlu* public that all per.soiis
claiming to have been her pupils who cannot show diplomas ccrtilyinj^ to that
effect are prefcrrinj; false claims.

WHAT CUKISTIAN SCIKNCK TliACIIES.

The hypothesis which underlies the entire teaching of Christian' Srir ii.ists is
that " the Divine; Mind and its Ideas are the only realities." Our errin<4 mortal
views, misnamed mind, produce all the orjj;anic and aniiiial action of the mortal
body. We have sensationless bodies. " Whence came to me this conviction
in antagonism to the testimomy of the human senses ? From the self-evident
fact that matter has no sensation ; from the common human experience of the
falseness of all material things; from the obvious facts that mortal mind i*^:
what suffers, feels, sees ; since matter cannot sufT(;r." Her reasoning is well
illustrated by the following extracts :

•' You say, 'Toil fatigues me.' But what is this )ou or me ? Is it muscle
or mind ? Which one is tired and so speaks ? Without mind could the
muscles be tired ? Do the muscles talk or do you talk for them ? Matter is
non-intelligent. Mortal mind does the talking and that which affirms it to be
tired first made it so."

"You would not say that a wheel is fatigued ; and yet, the body is just as
material as the wheel. Setting aside what the human mind says of the body,
it would never be weary any more than the inanimate wheel. Understanding
this great fact rests you more than hours of repoSe."

" Divine Science shows that matter and mortal body are the illusions of
human belief, which seem to appear and disappear to mortal sense alone.
When this belief changes, as in dreams, the material body changes with it, gomg
wherever we wish, and becoming whatsoever belief may decree. Human
mortality proves that error has been engrafted into both the dreams and con-
clusions of material and mortal humanity. Besiege sickness and death with
these principles, and all will disappear."

Matter, thus, has no substance. Sickness is a false dream and, of course,
when people are rid of false notions there is no such thing as sickness in the
world.

W^e give the following summary of the practice of Christian Science from
Dr. Buckley's able work " Faith Healing, Christian Science and Kindred
Phenomena."

I. Both the patient and his healer must be taught that Anatomy, Physiology,
Treatises on Health, sustained by what is termed material law, are the husband-
men of sickness and disease. It is proverbial that so long as you read medical
works you will be sick. . . . Clairvoyants and medical charlatans are the
prolific sources of sickness. . . . They first help to form the image of illness

3o8

C.LIMI'SKS OK rilK UNSEEN.

!!'

in mortal minds, by tellin<^ patients that tiiey have a disease; and tlien they go
to work to dcstrox' th.it disease. They unweave their own webs. . . . When
there were fewer doctors, and less thou<;hl was given to sanitary suiijecls, tliere
were better constitutions and less disease.

2. Diet is of no importance. We are told that the simjile food our fore-
fathers ate itssisted to make them healthy ; but that is a mistake. Their diet
would not cure dyspepsia at this period. With rules of health in the; head, and
the mo.^t digestible food in the stomach, there would still l)e ch'spcpiics.

3. Exercise is of no importance. Because the muscles ot the blacksmith's
arm are strongly devi.'loped it does not follow that exercise did it, or that an arm
less used must be hagile. If matter were the cause of action, and muscles,
without the co-operaiion of mortal mind, could lift the hammer and smite the
ii.iil, it might be thought true that hammering enlarges the muscles. liut the
trip-hammer is not increased in si;^e by exercise. Why not, since muscles are
as material as wood and iron ?

4. A knowledge of Mrs. Eddy's writings, however, is of great importance.
My publications alone heal more sickness than an unconscientious student can
begin to reach. If patients seem the worse for reading my book, this change
may either arise from the frightened mind of the physician, or mark the crisis of
the disease. Perseverance in its perusal would heal them completely.

5. Never tell the sick they have more courage than strength. Tell them
rather that their strength is in proportion to their courage. . . . Instruct the
sick that they are not helpless victims ; but that, if they only know how, they
can resist disease and ward it off, just as positively as they can a temptation to
sin.

6. To treat patients successfully the healer must strengthen and steady iiis
own mind. " Have no foolish fears that matter governs, and can ache, swell,
and be inflamed from a law of its own, when it is self-evident that matter can
liave no pain or inflammation."

7. " If the patient should grow worse ? " Suppose the patient should grow
worse. This I call chemicalization. It is the upheaval produced when
immortal truth is destroying erroneous and mortal belief. Chemicalization
brings sin and sickness to the surface, as in a fermenting Huid, allowing
impurities to pass away. Patients unfamiliar with the cause of this commotion,
and ignorant that it is a favorable omen, may be alarmed. If such is the case
explain to them the law of this action.

8. Some of the things not to be done : A Christian Scientist never gives
medicine, never recommends hygiene, never manipulates. He never tries to
•' focus mind." He never places patient and practitioner " back to back,''
never consults " spirits," nor requires the life history of his patient. Above all,
he cannot trespass on the rights of Mind through animal magnetism.

)n
e

1.'

CHRISTIAN SCIENCE.

SO()

THE MKTHOD OF TKKATMENT.

We give the lollovvinfi; revelation of the thoughts wliich constitute a mental
treatment in the words of the practitioner :

*' I said to him mentally : ' You have no disease ; what you call your
disease is a ^'xed mode of thought arising from the absence of positive belief in
absolute good. Be stronger,' I said, ' you must believe in absolute good ; I am
looking at you, and I see you a beautiful, strong spirit, perfectly sound. What
makes you think yourself diseased ? You are not diseased ; the shadow of a
doubt is reflected on your feet, but it has no real existence. There, look down
yourself and see that it is gone. Why, it was a mere negation, and the place
where you located it now shows for itself as sound as the rest of your body.
Don't you know tl.at imperfection is impossible to that beautiful creature, your
real self ? Since there is no evil in all the universe, and since man is the highest
expression of good amidst ubiquitous (}ood, how can you be diseased .'' You are
not diseased. There is not an angel in all the spheres sounder or more divine
than you.' Then I spoke out aloud : ' There now,' I said, ' you won't have that
l>ain again.' As I said it there was a surge of conviction through me that
seemed to act on the blood-vessels of my body and made me tingle all over." —
Helen Wilmans.

All the practitioners of Christian Science claim they can operate on patients
at a distance. " There is no space or time to mind. A person in St. Louis may
be near to me while I am in New York. A person in the same room u ly be
very distant. Sit f^)\\r\ and think about the person you wish to affect. i hink
long enough and strong enough and you are sure to reach him." — HazzarcL

VIEWS OF CHRISTIAN SCIFNTISTS ON VARIOUS TOPICS.

Mrs. Eddy speaks of mesmerism in this way :

Mortal mind, acting from the basis of sensuous belief in matter, is animal
magnetism. ... In proportion as you understand Christian Science you
lose animal magnetism. ... Its basis being a belief and this belief an error,
animal magnetism, or mesmerism, is a mere negation, possessing neither intelli-
gence nor power. . . . An evil mind at word mesmencally is an engine of
mischief little understood. . . . Animal magnetism, clairvoyance, medium-
ship and mesmerism are antagonistic to this Science, and would prevent the
demonstration thereof. . . . The mesmerizer produces pain by making his
subjects believe that he feels it ; here pain is proved to be a belief without any
use. That social curse, the mesmerist, by makin<r his victims

cjuate

believe they cannot move a limb, renders it impossible for them to do so u
their belief or understanding masters his.

ntil

Of Spiritualism :

Spiritualism with its material accompaniments would destroy the supremacy
spirit.

3IO

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

And of Clairvoyance specifically :

Clairvoyance investi<:(ates and influences mortal thought only. . . . Clair-
voyance can do evil, can accuse wrongfully and err in every direction.

Of Faith Cure:

It is asked why are faith cures sometimes more speedy than some of the
cures wrought through Christian Scientists ? Because faith is belief, and not
understanding; and it is easier to belie^'e than to understand spiritual truth.
It demands less cross-bearing, self-renunciation and divine science to admit the
claims of the personal senses, and appeal for relief to a humanized God, than to
deny those claims and learn the divine way, drinking his cup, being baptized
with his baptism, gaining the end through persecution and purity. Millions are
believmg in God, or Good, without sharing the fruits of goodness, not having
reached its science. Belief is mental blindness, if it admits truth without
understanding it. It cannot say with the Apostle : " I know in whom I have
believed."

Dr. Buckley, in concluding his summary, offers the following tests of the
theory :

1. If Christian Science be true, food should not be neccessary, and Mrs.
Eddy affirms this :

Gustatory pleasure is a sensuous illusion, an illusion that diminishes as we
understand our spiritual being and ascend the ladder of Life. This woman
learned that food neither strengthens nor weakens the body — that mind alone
does this. . . . Teach them that their bodies are nourished more by Truth
than by food.

2. Drugs taken into the system are per se powerless.

'* Christian Science divests material drugs of their imaginary power. . . ,
The uselessness of drugs, the emptiness of knowledge, the nothingness of matter
and its imaginary laws, are apparent as we rise from the rubbish of belief to the
acquisition and demonstration of spiritual understanding. . . . When the
sick recover by the use of drugs, it is the law of a general belief culminating in
individual faith that heals, and according to this faith will the effect be." — Eddy-

Marston, one of their authorities, is guilty of the following:

The not uncommon notion that drugs possess absolute, inherent curative
virtues of their own involves an error. Arnica, quinine, opium, could not pro-
duce the effects ascribed to them except by imputed virtue. Men think they
will act thus on the physical system, consequently they do. The property of
alcohol is to intoxicate; but if the common thought had endowed it simply with
a nourishing quality like milk, it would produce a similar effect.

The absurdity of the above contention is apparent to every child wlio con-
siders that drugs produce their specific effect upon man and animals alike, and
in proportion to the amount taken, and it makes not the slightest difference

CHRISTIAN SCIENCE.

3x1

whether the nature of the dru"; is known or not, the effect being always and
invariably in accordance with the quality and amount of the drug.

3. Extraordinary accidents to the body. Whatever may be said of the
power of thought in the production of ordinary diseases, the effects of accidents
to persons entirely unconscious when they occur (sleeping victims of a railway
disaster for example) are facts often terminating human life or retjuiring surgery.
On this point Mrs. Eddy declares :

Christian Science is always the most skilful surgeon, but surgery is the
branch of its healing that will be last demonstrated. However, it is but just to
say that I have already in my possession well-authenticated records of the cure,
by mental surgery alone, of d'slocated hip joints and spinal vertebrae.

The fear of dissevered bodily members, or a belief in such a possibility, is
reflected on the body, in the shape of headache, fractured bones, dislocated
joints, and so on, as directly as shame is seen in the blush rising to the cheek.
This human error about physical wounds and colics is part and parcel of the de-
hision that matter can feel and see, having sensation and substance.

4. Insanity. — Christian Science cannot explain insanity arising from injury
to the brain, nor the frequent cure of insanity to-day through operations upon
the brain.

5. The perpetuation of youth and abolition of death should be possible to
Christian Scientists.

Baldwin, of Chicago, says :

" Man should grow >ounger as he grows older; the principle is simple.
* As we think so are we ' is stereotyped. Thoughts and ideas are ever striving for
external expression. By keeping the mind young we have a perfect guarantee
for continued youthfulness of body. Thought will externalize itself ; thus grow-
ing thought will ever keep us young. Reliance on drugs makes the mind, con-
sequently the body, prematurely old. This new system will make us younger at
seventy than at seventeen, for then we will have more of genuine philosophy."

6. If the theory of Christian Science be true, clothing, so far as life and
warmth are concerned, should be unnecessary. This reduces the whole scheme
to absurdity.

THE APPARENT SUCCESS OF CHRISTIAN PRACTITIONERS AND HOW

IT IS ACCOUNTED FOR.

That a large number of cures take place under Christian Science treatment
may be admitted without any sanction of the basal principle of the so-called
" science." Cures take place under every sj'stem of medical treatment that are
not to be attributed to the system itself. Cures take place without any treatment,
and the utmost the practitioner of any school can claim is that he has assisted
nature and not hindered her in effecting a cure.

Again, in Christian Science treatment as in the systems of medical treat-

312

CIJMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

ment, there is every endeavor to secure certain conditions which are well known
to favor the vis medicatrix natures. Among these we may reckon the presence of
an atmosphere of hope and expectation, if not of positive faith. The absence of
medical treatment insures, at least, nature's power of healing is never hindered
under Christian Science treatment as it sometimes is under the administration of
drugs. Again, while the Christian Science practitioner professedly dispenses
with faith on the part of his patient, there can be no doubt that the entire method
of treatment is of a character to awaken and inspire faith. By securing what is
called a "favorable atmosphere," by "encouraging words," by the utter
audacity of the proposition to dispense with all medicines, by the testimony of
those cured, and in a variety of other ways, the faith of the patient is awakened.
Even the assertion " it does not make a particle of difference whether you believe
or disbelieve " has in itself a suggestion of power and resource that is very apt to
beget faith.

And who disputes the curative tendency of faith ? Who denies that in a
certain class of diseases directly connected with the nervous systems, faith is
a remedial and curative power? If so why should we not expect favorable
results wherever it is inspired. As bearing apon the above contentions, we quote
Sir John Forbes, M.D. :

" First, that in a large proportion of the cases treated by allopathic
physicians, the disease is cured by nature, and not by them. Second, that in a
lesser but still not a small proportion, the disease is cured by nature in spite of
them ; in other words, their interference retarding instead of assisting the cure.
Third, that in, consequently, a considerable proportion of diseases it would fare
as well or better with patients if all remedies — at least all active remedies^
especially drugs — were abandoned.

Cures fully as wonderful as any effected by Christian .Science have been
performed in all lands and in all ages by men and women who practised ** laying
on of hands," by mesmerists, at certain shrines, and even by objects of reputed
health- giving power through the agency of suggestion.

)athic

|: in a

te of

ure,

fare

>uted

CHAPTER XII.

CLAIKVUVANCE.
Introduction \iy the Editor.

AM filled w'th astcnishment," says Leibnitz, "at the nature of the numan
mind, of whose powers and capabilities we have no adequate conception."
If that be true, as we think everyone who has studied attentively even a
part of human testimony available to-d.,y in re,tj;ard to psychic phenomena must
admit, he must be a rash man indeed who oracularly declares clairvoyance an
impossibility. Some scientific men go so far as to deny not only the alleged
fact of clairvoyance, but also to tell us it is absurdly impossible- — that no amount
of te>timony could establish it — that we should even disbelieve our own senses
if they declared clairvoyance a fact. This, however, is not the hrst illustration
the world has had '^f unscientific science. Men who are by profession scientists
should never neglect or ignore the testimony of consciousness and the experience
of the senses. Science is based on facts and the psychic phenomena available
to any mind open to honest investigation, and the mass of human testimony
which supports it demands investigation and explanation.

All the scientists, however, are not so hostile to the new class of truths
dawning on the world from the realm of mental philosophy. A large number of
the leading scientists of the world are honest investigators of the peculiar psychic
phenomena developed under certain conditions. Some of them are firm
believers in clairvoyance and others are seeking some other form of explanation
for the wonderful mental powers exhibited by the so-called " sensitive " or
^'psychic." Such men as compose The Society for Psychical Research, in
England and America, have shown themselves open-minded to all truth and
by no means inclined to limit all existence to the material realm and all their
studies to the recognized laws which govern matter.

" What pretence have 1 to deny well-attested facts because I cannot com-
prehend them?" asks John Wesley, and there can be no do^bt he thus
expresses the true attitude which every truth-seeker should assume towards
phenomena that have not yet found a scientific explanation. Every student
should open his mind to evidence, weigh it with care and scrutiny, and accept
it when its rejection would involve the reversal of all our modes of forming and

retaining other beliefs.

Can the human mind perceive in any other way than through the senses.''
Is the soul's contact with nature limited to the organs of sense ? The organs
of sense are the ordinary channels of communication between the soul and the
universe. Are they the only means of communication ? Are the senses wmd(Avs

I !

315

3i6

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

throuf^h wliicli the soul looks out on nature ? What if the windows and walls
were both removed, could not the soiil perceive God's universe ? Is it the eye
that sees, the ear that hears, the hand that feels ? Or does the soul, in its
present house of clay, limit its powers of perception to the senses, having
inherently the power in itself of direct, unrestricted perception of nature — a
power occasionally clearly manifest in clairvoyance and telepathy ?

If we are to believe reputable men and women whose testimony would be
received in any court of our land, whose powers of mind forbid the possibility
of imposition, a considerable number of the human family have the power,,
under certain conditions, of perceiving things at a distance, of becoming
acquainted with past events in some way other than by the ordinary channels
of information, of reading closed books, of perceiving and describing hidden
objects and of giving exact description of passing events in other parts of the
globe. Call it clairvoyance or " second-sight " or what we will, the marvelous
power exists and, though only occasionally exercised, the proofs that it is
exercised are so abundant that to deny them would be to discard overwhelming
testimony, and would thus involve greater credulity in their rejection than in
their reception. In otiier chapters on kindred themes, we have furnished
evidence of the existence of this among the other wonderful powers" of humaji
nature. We now invite the attention of the reader to the following incident/
and illustrations.

CLAIRVOYANT PRESCIENCE,

The following incident is taken from the Relif^io-Philosophical Journal:
In the west of Scotland, amongst the Ayrshire hills, lives an engineering
inspector of pure Highland descent. He and his family are well known to me,
as I was one of the engineers connected with the works still under his charge.
The youngest of his three daughters is normally healthy, merry and witty. At
times, however, she evinces undoubted psychic faculties of a high order. And
it may be noted that she has all her life shown a stron„" aversion to meat — in
fact, she never eats meat at all. Her diet is simple and pure. On one occasion
she informed an Edinburgh doctor, when in Ayrshire, that on his return to
Edinburgh he would be called upon to visit a person in Stockbridge district,
and that he would have to cross an old wooden bridge to reach her. It hap-
pened that Stockbridge was not near his usual circuit to patients in Edinburgh,
and before his return to that city, a few days afterwards, he had forgotten all
about it. But, suddenly summoned to attend a patient, he found himself
crossing an old wooden bridge. In a flash he remembered the prophecy, and
simultaneously realized that he was in the very centre of the Stockbridge
district.

This shows the possession of clairvoyant prescience by the young lady in^
question, and not mere thought-transference. It is scarcely necessary to add

CXAIRVOYANCE.

3»7

me^
irge.
At
And
-in
LSion
In to
|rict,
lap-

all
iself
land
We

in
idd

that she herself knew no one in Stockbrid<i;e, and had really no connectinj^ link
whatever to lead her to such a statement except the presence of the doctor at
her father's house in Ayrshire.

On another occasion she informed the members of the family at hre dvfast
that I was on my way from Edinburgh to the works adjacent to her home, and
that I had on a gray check tweed suit. I had not had time to inform her father
of my intended visit to the works, but, sure enough, within three hours or so I
arrived in a dog-cart at the works, dressed as she had described.

A friend of mine, belonging to Edinburgh, who has been in Florida, U.S.A.,
for some years past, had run over for a holiday in the summer of 1887, and
happening to visit the works he had formerly surveyed, had occasion to spend
the eveiing at the above house. It was on Saturday evening. The conversation
had been drifting somewhat toward mesmerism or similar topics, when this
young lady, without any warning whatever, went off into what might be termed
the abnormal condition of waking trance.

She proceeded to describe minutely what was going on in the Florida
plantations — much to Mr. S.'s amazement. Then she passed from that to his
father's house in Edinburgh, the rooms and occupants of which she detailed
accurately. Then she commenced the relation of a fire which was taking place.
It was in Newcastle. "Oh ! there are two men killed I " she cried. Again, she
proceeded to recite to Mr. S. the contents of some letters she extracted from
his pocket, though he did not remove the envelopes. Mr. S., who was totally
unaccustomed to anything appertaining to the o':cult domains ot nature, gravely
assured me that at this stage of the proceedings his hair literally " stood on
end." Then her sister quietly suggested that the supper was almost ready, and
almost immediately the change occurred, which placed her once more en rapport
with her physical surroundings.

Now, one of the foregoing is the fact that the newspapers of the following
Monday contains an account of a fire that took place at Newcastle on Saturday
night, and detailed the fact that " two men were killed" at it.

Again, there was actually no apparent connecting link between the person-
alities of anyone present and the town of Newcastle. Another remarkable
circumstance is the ease and naturalness with which she passed into and out of
this abnormal state, neither she nor anyone else present knowing anything about
the science or metaphysics of occultism. It would seem as if God does not
depend on the teachings of dogmatic theologians for the eternal facts of nature.

THRILLING ILLUSTRATIONS OF CLAIRVOYANT POWER.

The following incidents are given in a work on Hypnotism by Prof. Seymour.
The first is an account which has appeared in many magazines, and the second
a testimomy of Prof. Seymour's own experience :

318

GLIMPSliS OF THK UNSKKN.

A rjreat j^ust of wind seized the half slackened maintopsail and sent it fliit-
terin<,r into fraj^mients. At the same moment the ship reeled nearly on her beam
ends, and, above the howling of the j^'^ale, we heard a sudden cry of despair. 1

was horrified to see an apprentice, J V , sent whirling' headlong^ from the

mastiiead into the sea. Kven yet I can see the look of •>;^ony stamped on his
upturned face, and I can hear the very tones of his heart- rendinj^ cry, " Oh !
Lucy, Lucy," as he disappeared forever in the darkness below.

After the storm abated, the captain made a careful note of the exact time of
the occurrence, the position of the ship, and other particulars. He seemed struck
at my mention of the exclamation I had h^-^rd falling from the poor fellow's lips
as he clutched in vain at the yielding air.

" Ah," he said, " that must have been his sister V , to whom he was

greatly attached."

The rest of the voyage passed without incident, and as soon as the ship
arrived at Liverpool I made my way to the train which was to take me to Man-
chester.

1 was walking freely a'ong the platform when I saw the face of an old
gentleman who, with a young lady on his arm, was elbowing his way through the
crowd. His resemblance to our lost mate was so striking that I stood and looked
at him. The young lady's eyes happened suddenly to meet mine. Instantly she
gave a violent start, uttered a low scream, and exclaimed, " Oh, look, there's the
face of mj dream ! " staring at me as if fascinated. Her companion gently rallied
her, and half led, half carried her to the nearest waiting room. As he passed he
begged me to come with them, and handed me his card.

When we were alone the old gentleman explained that the sight of my face
had reminded his daughter of a very peculiar and unpleasant dream, to which she
still persisted in attaching importance. He said, " At the present moment, indeed,
we are on our way to discover if the owners of my son's ship have received any
news of its arriv.u. "

1 said, " I am an apprentice on the C . and have but lately left her lying

in the harbor."

" Then," the young lady cried, " I must be right. It must be true. 'Twrs
that man's face I saw gazing at him as he fell. I saw Joe's ship in the midst of
a fearful storm, and him clinging to the slippery shrouds. A bright flash seemed
to pass before my eyes, and I saw him falling backwards into the sea. I saw
your face in the momentary gleam, and I woke terrified to hear the sound of my
own name — * Oh, Lucy ! Lucy ! ' — whispered in my ears.''

The expression of my face must have conveyed but too well the meaning of
my silence.

" My God," cried Mr. . " it is true then ? Is he dead ? "

CLAIRVO VANCE.

.W9

was

[lied

Isaw

I stammered, "Too true, sir. Yes, every word of it! I was beside him at
the moment, and even tried to save him."

On comparinj^ notes we found tluit she dreamed the very day, and allowiiiir
for the difference in lonijitude, even the very hour when the accident occurreil.

When I left I*!nj;iand I was quite youn<,^ and my father (whom I left behind)
felt the separation so keenly that in three dajs after I left he had to quit business,
and seemed to ijradually sink beneath a load of ^rief, until I had reached this
country and had time to write !iim a letter ; and when my letter reached I'A-i'^-
land and was carried to my father, it seemed as though he was waiting to hear
from me before he died. The letter was read to him, and when finished my
father exclaimed, " I am satisfied !" and died at once. At this time — as near as
we could compare the difference between the two countries — I was lying on my
bed in my boarding place, not feeling well on account of the change of climate,
water, etc. — but at the same time I was conscious I was not asleep — I saw my
father as plain as I had ever seen him in my life ; and I heard him say as dis-
tinctly as I had ever heard him speak, *' I am satisfied," and saw him sink back
into his bed and die. At this time I did not know that my father was sick, I
arose from my bed and went downstairs, and told a young man who came from
England with me what I had seen and heard. The young man supposed I had
been dreaming, which I could not dispute, although I was satisfied I was awake.
The young man remarked : " Your father was well when we came away, and I
can see no reason why he should be dead, or even sick." I remarked that his
saying was true. I tried to dismiss the subject from my mind and think no more
of it. But in about three days afterwards I was again lying in the same condition,
when I had a vision of my father's funeral. I saw the procession as it moved
along, distinctly saw the minister who officiated on the occasion, saw where my
father was buried, even to the spot of ground, and many other particulars. What
made the matter more interesting to me afterwards was the fact that my father
was buried in a new cemetery, in a different parish from that in which he died,
and although in the same parish with my mother, yet in a different graveyard.
The whole of which was contrary to what I should have expected. I again
made known my vision to my friend, and although it seemed strange to us both,
we still thought it must be a delusion. However, I made a note of what I
saw in my vision, and in a week or two afterwards I received a letter stating my
father was dead. He died at the time I saw him in my vision, and his last words
were, " I am satisfied." in response to my letter. Also, he was buried where 1
saw him, and the whole circumstance was as I had seen it in my vision.

THE PROJECTION OF CONSCIOUSNESS.

The following article is taken from a little work on hypnotism, by Prof.
Seymour :

330

(ii.iMrsiis (_)!• rnK lnskkn.

" In the city of l\., I'.i., T.S.A., I liul liypnoli/.od Mr. B., when I stated to
the audience : 'If any one desired to conceiUiate their minds upon an experi-
ence of th«! past, or \vish(!d the suhj(!Ct to j^o with ihein to a foreij^n land, and
d(.'scril)(! the *hind or home of their hirlh, it was quMo. Ukely that the suhject
woukl he ahle to <;ive such information, provichn^' the; peison who desires to
make the lest ke(;p their mind m a positive coiuHtion, and commencinf,' with the
present city, K<^> hack over tiic passa<;e, takin«; up the (hlferent stoppinj^ phices
consecutively, and locaHties whicli he between the city of K. and the i)hice to he
di'scribed.' One gentleman in the audience asked that he travel with him to
I'^iif^land. 1 at once called my mind off the subject and, l)iMn<ij in a passive
state, Mr. H. became sul)ject to the control of the positive condition of the mind
of the other, I (luesiioned the subject as to the locality he was in, when in
answer to my first (juestion, he desc ribt!d Castie-Ciarden, N.Y. Aj^ain 1 asked
him what he saw, he answered that he saw nothin<j; but water outsiile of the
house in which he was staying;. To my next (|uestion he described the docks at
Liverpool, Enj;. The j^entleman whose mind was controilinj.,' the subject was
instructed to nod his head if the answers f^iven by the subject were in accordance
with the ideas of his mind, nodded liis head in the aftirmative tliat he was
answermf; the conditions of his mind in describinj; the locality as he went alon}^.
To my next question Mr. B. answered that he was in a house, describing the
liouse, which proved that he was now in tiie home of the one who was now
controlling him. When they had arrived at this point, I told the gentleman
who was controlling the subject that he should not go over the house ])romis-
cuously, but that, commencing with one room at a time, he might think of the
furniture and location of the rooms of the house, and the subject would describe
them accurately. The experiment was tried and proved successful. After this
the gentleman asked me if he should ask (juestions, I answered he might, when
he asked the names and number of his family, which were answered correctly,
by the subject. He asked if all the family were well, when the answer came,
No! He asked who is sick.-* Your brother J. Did you not see him lying in
the room above ? This the gentleman did not accept and became rather pro-
voked. I at once desired him to let the subject to me, and I would ask questions,
and we would see what would become of it. I asked the subject to go up to
the room and listen to what was said and report to me who was there. He
made a few steps away from me and then came back and said : ' There is
a woman in the room beside the mother and sister, the doctor is also standing
by the bedside and feeling the pulse of the young man who is sick.' I said go
back to the room and listen to what the doctor has to say, then come back and
let me know. He did so, andstated that the doctor said, he is sinking fast. I
again sent him to the room, and in a few seconds he came back and said : the
doctor says he is dead. In a few minutes afterwards he went back to the room,

Cl.AlKVOVANCI'.

ling

land
, I

the
bom,

and came h.icU wiili the report that they wiMc })uttiM«,' lar^e petinirs on the
);)un}; man's eyes and tying a cloth around his head and under his chin. All
this time the brother in the .ludience protested that it was a frauil. Hut, how-
ever, we kept a record of the affair, and, allowing for the difference in the time
between the two countries, we found by correspondence that the young man-
described was taken ill and died very suddenly on the evening and hour in
which this seance took place.

This jihenomenon is what spiritualists would call clairvoyance ; what sci-
<;ntisls would call telepathy, and is a similar i)lu!nomenon to that which has
come down to us from the earlier times as inspiration or prophecy.

CAN Tin-: MINI) Si:|-, AND III:; K IIIINCS ni'.YONl) riiH seoiT. OF THE

SENSKS ? KI'.MAKKAIU.I'. I NCI! >1 NIS (( )NC I.KN I NO THE

DKATHS Ol' MK. SMlllI AND iUSIlol' l.l'.K.
The folUiwini; selections wu-rt' ni;iile :ui<l kindly sent to tlie Ivliior by the Kjv. |. S. R iss, D.I)., of Rrantford, Ontario.

Methodist Quarterly Reviezc, (October, uSSi, pages 747-750. The Kev. Dr.
Wh'.'don, Editor, in a review of the Universalist Quarterly of Jul}', 1881, .^ays :
*' ihe Universalist Qjtartcrly evinces its repugnance to neology by its cool recep-
tion of Robertson Sinilli's Lectures, and its opposition to the materiaii-^m of
Maudsley and Hammond by narrating authentic facts showing lliat mind does
often perceive beyond the reach of the plu'sical instrumenialities of the .--enscs.
The editor narrates the perception by Swedenborg, when in Gottenburg, of a lire
at that moment taking place in Stockholm, three hundred miles distant, attested
(in a letter given in lull), as being beyond all question, by the eminent (icrman
philosopher Kant. This narrative is a fact, and a fact that maierir.listic
pseudo-science cannot exjiiain. We said in a former ."-^naiicr/y that such
indubitable facts are constantly occurring, o.''ten suppressed, but often published
and intentionally forgotten. They are appearing every now and then uncontra-
dicted and inexplicable in the daily newspapers. Here is one from the London
Daily News in regard to the celebrated Assyriologist and his friend Dr. Delitzsch :
* Mr. Smith, the Assyriologist, died at Ale})po on the 19th of August at, or about,
the hour of six in the afternoon. On the same day, and between three-([uarters
of an hour and an hour later, a friend and fellow-worker of Mr. Smith's (Dr.
Delitzsch) was going to the house of a third person, the author of the account of
the labors of the departed scholar, which appeared in a weekly contemporary,
the Academy. In the cour.se of his walk Dr. Delitzsch passed within a stone's
throw of the house in which Mr. Smith lived when in London, and suddenly
heard his own name uttered aloud in a most piercing cry which thrilled him to
the marrow. The fact impressed him so strongly that he looked at his watch,
noted the hour, and although he did not mention the circumstance at the time
recorded it in his notebook. In this particular case, as it is reported, the skeptic

33a

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

can scarcely make use of the fact that Dr. DeHtzsch did not mention his experi-
ence to anyone at the time it happened. The record in his notebook would be
amply sufficient evidence of the liveHness of the impression. Criticism would be
better employed in discovering the possibility of a suggestion of Mr. Smith to
Dr. Delitzsch's mind. He was at the moment passing the end of Crogsland
Road, in which Mr. George Smith lived. He was, however, not thinking of him,
and it is difficult to imagine that an unconscious suggestion of the brain, caused
by the law of the association of ideas, could take the shape of a seeming cry, not
of his friend's name, but of his own, so piercing as to thrill him to the marrow.' "
The following we take from the iVew York Times :

SINGULAR INCIDENT CONNECTED WITH BISHOP LEE's DEATH.

A private letter from Davenport, Iowa, received in Boston, contains the fol-
lowing : " We have beeii very anxious the last two weeks over the illness of
Bishop Lee, which terminated in his death on Saturday morning. The wliole
community is saddened by the event. Some two months ago he got up in the
night and took a bath, and on returning to his room made a mistake and stepped
off a long flight of stairs and landed at tlie foot with a tremendous crash, as he
was very heavy, weighing over 200 pounds. It aroused the whole family, and
Mrs. Lee and Carrie sprang from their beds, and lighting each a candle, went
to see what had happened, and found the bishop lying on the floor of the entry.
He got up, however, without aid, and seemed to have received no injury except

- and

a few slight bruises, though his right hand was a little lamed. Mr. H —
myself called on him a few days alter, and while telling us the circumstances of
the fall he mentioned this coincidence : He had a letter in his hand which he
had just received from his son, Henry, living in Kansas City. His son wrote :
' Are you well ? for last night I had a dream that troubled me. I heard a crash,
and standing up said to my wife, '* Did you hear that crash ? I dreamed that
father had a fall, and was dead. I got up and looked at my watch and it was
two o'clock. I could not sleep again, so vivid was the dream." ' And it made
him anxious to hear from home. The bishop said he was not superstitious, but
he tho r-^ht it remarkable that Henry should have had the dream at the very
hour of the same night that the accident occurred. The difference in the time
there and here is just fifteen minutes, and it was 2.15 by his watch, making it at
the same moment. It was as if he had actually heard the fall. And the fall
finally caused the bishop's death. His hand became intensely painful and
gangrene set in, which, after two weeks of suffering, terminated his life."

Now, it cannot be conceived that a fire at Stockholm pictured itself on the
retina of Swedenborg at Gottenburg, or that a sound from Asia by atmospheric
vibration touched the tympanum of Delitzsch at London. Nor could a special
air-wave go from Davenport to Kansas City to strike on Henry's ear-drum.

% \

CLAIRVOYANCE.

323

xperi-
ild be
lald be
ith to
island
i him,
:aused
ry, not
row.' "

:he fol-
less of
: whole
in the
tepped
, as he
iy, and
3, went
; entry,
except
— and
ces of
ich he
wrote :
crash,
d that
it was
made
s, but
e very
le time
ig it at
Ihe fall
il and

)n the

;pheric

■special

l-drum.

Without the material organ the mind must have seen and heard. And the idea
seems to suggest itself that the organism is as much a limitation upon the far-
read ing powers of the soul as an instrument of its ordinary action. And such
facts are so numerous that " criticism " cannot be allowed to palm upon them
any sham interpretations.

WIDOW WADE, OF CASTILE, N.Y., AND HER WONDERFUL POWERS.

(We clip the following account from the current press and cannot vouch for
the accuracy of the narration. As this story, however, is but a fair sample of
multitudes of others which find currency in the press and in the annals of many
a neighborhood, and especially as the account contains references to well-known
individuals and irtcludes a testimony from a well-known physician, we give it for
what it is worth and leave any of our readers who may wish for verification to
seek it by correspondence or otherwise.)

In most places when women lose things they try to get them back either by
looking for them or by advertising. In the town of Castile, N.Y., it is different.
There, if anything of value is lost, the loser consults the Widow Wade. The
local stories of the Widow Wade's achievements at finding lost articles would
be incredible if there were not many trustworthy witnesses to vouch for every
one of them. She has lived in Castile all her life and has been seeing things,
hidden from others, for so many years that the natives have come to regard her
extraordinary power as a matter of course. A newspaper reporter asked a man
who sat in front of the post office, smoking :

•*Is it true that there is a women here who can find things without knowing-
when or where they were lost ? "

"Huh?" said the man looking up in surprise. "You mean the Widow
Wade. Of course she does," and he put his pipe back into his mouth with a
chuckle at the idea that anybody should question the widow's powers. She
makes no boast of her ability, and exercises it only when requested to do so.
Another peculiar characteristic, which distinguishes her from the professional
quack, is that she will not accept money for her services, though often urged to

do so.

'• Since the Lord has sent this gift," she said to the reporter, " He certainly
intends me to use it for the benefit of my fellow creatures." The Widow Wade
is a sincerely piou? woman, and this is her way of looking at the matter.

Mrs. Wade is past sixty, and for forty years she has been finding things for
her Wyoming county neighbors. Their feelings toward her were well expressed
by an old farmer named Willetts, on the outskirts of Castile. A lot of his grain
had been stolen, he said, and when he appealed to the Widow Wade she told
him where it had been concealed. He went to the spot and, sure enough, he
found the bags of grain, bearing his name.

324

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

" But do you really believe it possible that this woman can possess such
power?" he was asked.

" I don'no," said the old man, scratching his head in perplexity, " I don't
understand how it is, but she found my oats."

The Widow Wade is a pleasant-faced old lady, and is always willing to
receive visitors and to talk to them, but she is not fond of speaking about her
power of clairvoyance. She is cheerful, sometimes even jolly. Her way of
finding lost articles is very simple. Take, for mstance, the case of Farmer
Willetts and his stolen grain. When he had told his story to Mrs. Wade she
took out a small glass, which looks like any ordinary glass ; it is her only
*' medium." She gazed fixedly into it for some time. Then she said :

" I see two men carrying bags of grain from your barn to a wagon which
stands by the road. Now they drive to the west." Then she described their
trip along the road which ran past the farmer's house and on for three or four
miles. " Here they turned to the right and went up a hill," she said, and so on.
She went carefully over the route, which afterwards was found to l)e the one
the thieves had taken, and ended her statement by telling the farmer that in the
liaymow of a certain barn several miles away he would find his grain ; and
he did.

Two years ago the glass that the widow had long used was dropped acci-
dentally over the high banks of the Gcnt-ssee River, and was not recovered.
Now she has a glass like the former one, but she complains that she cannot see
so clearly in it as in the old one.

Within the borders of Wyoming county it would be possible to get records
of a hundred authentic instances in which the Widow Wade has exercised her
strange ability in unravelling mystery. Some years ago ihere lived near her a
well-to-do farmer i iimed Grover. He owned a farm of several hundred acres,
bounded on two sides by parallel roads about a mile and a half apart. Becom-
ing too old to manage the farm alone, Mr. Grover divided it into two parts.
The one on which his house stood he gave to his son, and he built another
house for his married daughter on the other road. The two houses were, there-
fore, at opposite ends of the original (arm, nearly two miles apart. Old Mr.
Grover used to divide his time between the two, going back and forth across
lots. One winter afternoon he set out from his son's house for his daughter's,
going through a strip of woods that stood in the middle of the farm. A few
days later his son-in-law happened to drive over to the Grover house, and casu-
ally inquired after the old farmer.

" Father," said the younger Grover, " is at your house, isn't he ? "

" No," said the other, " we haven't seen him."

It was at once surmised that the old man had been injured or perhaps
killed by a falling limb in the woods. A search was begun, but a snowstorm had

CLAIRVOYANCE.

0^5

covered up the old man's foot-prints, and it was impossible to follow his course.
The search was kept up for two or three days and every corner of the two farms
was visited, but no trace of the missint; man was found. Then the services of
the Widow Wade were called in.

With glass in hand the old woman gazed long and carefully. Then slie
told how the old man took the path from his son's house to the woods, how he
picked his way carefully among the trees to avoid the deepest snow, how he
came to a rail fence which separated the two farms and walked along it for some
distance, looking for a convenient spot to climb over.

" He must have been very tired," she said, '* for he waited here at the
fence for a long time. On the other side of it are some deep drifts of snow, and
there you will find him,"

And there they found him, after following the course which the woman had
described, his body covered wi.h snow.

Another case in which the Widow Wade's faculties were employed for a
more trivial matter is vouched for by B. J. Frank, a farmer living near Caslile.
Mr. Frank says that one day two young fellows drove up to his house and said
they had heard that he had a sugar evaporator to sell. Mr. Frank told them
his price for the evaporator, and, giving them the key to his sugar house, sent
them down to the maple grove to look at it. Presently they came back.

"It's a good evaporator," said one, "but we can't pay what you ask, for
the two pans are gone."

The farmer felt certain that there were no parts missing, for he had locked
the sugar house ; but when he came to look, sure enough, two of the pans were
missing. He told the men to come back in a few days, and meanwhile he visited
the Widow Wade. She told him that the men had taken the pans and hidden
them under a certain brush heap in a neighboring woods, a quarter of a mile
away There the pans were found.

Both these and many otlier cases are attested, not only by the person
directly interested, but also by conspicuous men in the town. Whether it is a
case of lost cattle, stolen goods, or run-away children, the Widow Wade is called
upon to " see " i"hem in her glass.

Mrs. Wade says she learned of her power by accident long before she be-
came a v'idow. On the farm where s^^e lived when a young woman, a tool had
been lost. She found it by looking in a glass. Later she found other things in
the same way, until it came to be accepted by her family that her vision was not
bounded b}^ ordinary physical barriers. Many years ago a murder was commit-
ted in Wyoming county. After an unsuccessful hunt for the murderer the
authorities went to the Widow Wade. She looked in her glass and then
described one of the men who had been active in the search for the murderer as
the one who had done the killing. The man was accused, and he confessed.

326

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

The widow does not pretend to be infallible ; at least, she cannot always see the
object sought distinctly enouf];h to locate it exactly. Last spring John P. Myers,
of the Buffalo commission firm of Myers, Woodward & Drake, a Republican
politician, disappeared, leaving a shortage in his accounts. Some of his friends
consulted the Widow Wade. After looking in her glass she said the missing
man had gone first west, then east, and that he was at that time in a ship upon
the ocean. But here her sight ceased. Myers was traced from his home near
Buffalo, west to that city, and thence to New York, where, it is believed, he em-
barked for South America.

Dr. W. A. McFarlane, a local physician of reputation, who had been
acquainted with Mrs. Wade's career for many years, told the reporter:

*' I do not, of course, pretend to understand how Mrs. Wade is able to do
these things, but that, she has done all that you have heard, and more, there can
be no question. I sometimes believe that there are some persons who possess
powers which are undeveloped in the ordinary individual. Perhaps Mrs. W^ade
is one of the favored few. Her sincerity I cannot doubt. It is impossible to
suspect such a woman of duplicity, and besides, duplicity is not in any way an
explanation."

AN APPARITION AND CLAIRVOYANCE.

We quote the following incident from Stilling, in his Pneumatology :
" About sixty or seventy years ago a man of piety and integrity arrived in
Germany from Philadelphia, North America, to visit his poor old parents, and,
with his well-earned wealth, to place them beyond the reach of care. He went
out to America while he was still young, and had succeeded so far as to become
overlooker of various mills on the Delaware River, in which situation he had hon-
orably laid up a considerable sum. This respectable individual related to one of
my friends, upon whose veracity I can depend, the following wonderful tale :

• In the neighborhood of Philadelphia, not far from the mills above men-
tioned, there dwelt a solitary man in a lonely house. He was very benevolent,
but extremely retired and reserved, and strange things were related of him,
among which was his being able to tell a person things that were unknown to
every one else. Now it happened that the captain of a vessel, belonging to
Philadelphia, was about to sail to Africa and Europe. He promised his wife
that he would return in a certain time, and also that he would write to her fre-
quently. She waited long, but no letters arrived; the time appointed passed
over, but her beloved husband did not return. She was now deeply distressed,
and knew not where to look for either counsel or consolation. At length a friend
advise^ her for once to go to the pious solitary and tell him her griefs. The
woman followed his advice, and went to hiin. After she hac* ild him all her
troubles he desired her to wait a while there, until he returned and brought her
an answer. She sat down to wait and the man, opening a door, went into his

CLAIRVOYANCE.

3*7

closet. But the woman, thinking he stayed along time, rose up, went to the
window in the door, lifted up the little curtain, and looking in, saw him lying on
the couch or sofa like a corpse ; she then immediately went back to her place.
At length he came and told her that her husband was in London, in a coffee-
house — which he named — and that he would return very soon. He then told
her also the reason why he had been unable to write. The woman went home
pretty much at ease.

'What the solitary had told her was minutely fulfilled, her husband returned
and the reasons of his delay and his not writing were just the same as the man-
had stated. The woman was now curious to know what would be the result if
she visited the friendly solitary in company with her husband. The visit was
arranged, but when the captain saw the man he was struck with am.azement.
He afterward told his wife that he had seen this very man on such a day (it was
the very day that the woman had been with him) in a coffee-house in London,
and that he had told him that his wife was much distressed about him ; that he
had then stated the reason why his return was delayed, and of his not writing,
and that he would shortly come back, on which he lost sight of the man among
the company.' "

en-
nt,
m,
to
to
ife
re-
5ed

SOME STRANGE THINGS IN THE LIFE OF JOHN P. WEEKS,
OF NORTH DANVILLE, VERMONT.

The following is written from memory, but I think the statements reliable.
A pamphlet was published, soon after the death of Mr. Weeks, giving the facts
which I read carefully ; but, unfortunately, the pamphlet, by loaning, has been
lost. But I had the facts from Mr. Weeks himself, and from others of his
friends.

My acquaintance with Mr. Weeks was in the year 1841, I think, when I
boarded with him for some time, while teaching my first iniblic school, in his
district. I had heard much of the story before, especially of his so-called death
which had occurred some little time before. At that time Mr. Weeks was,
perhaps, thirty years of age.

From childhood, as his father told me, there had been some striking peculi-
arities about him. He seemed to have an insight into the future, to some extent.
But especially an ability to discern things hidden from others. His father told
of several instances. In one case a farmer ne?r by had lost a harness. As it
was being talked of in his presence, he said he thought he could tell them where
to find it. He described the place so definitely, although several miles zway,
and in a town where lie had never been, for he was quite a small boy, that they
went directly to it. He said the harness was in a barn, in the manger, covered
with hay. There it was found.

At one time, his father said, he had several fine calves. John went with

328

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSICEN.

him one morning to salt them. As they were looking at them Jolin said : "Some
of these calves will die soon," and specified which. All but one of those speci-
fied did die soon. One day later, the calves were put into an orchard back of
the house. The one calf marked to die seemed the finest one in the lot, and
his father said: "Well John, you were mistaken about that calf." " No," he
replied, " he won't live till night." While the calves were frolicing in their new
quarters, this one seemed the most brisk of all. But within two hours he came
up near the house, lay down, stretched himself out and was dead.

But the most remarkable thing was hla apparent death and coming to life
again. Some time before I knew him he was very sick, the bowels were morti-
fied and to all appearance he died. The body had been " laid out " some little
time, when suddenly he sat up and called for his trowsers, saying he wanted to
go to the window to see the angel go back. The physician chanced to be in the
room, and said : " Put him back, he is a dead man." But he insisted that he
should get well, and proceeded to tell them what to do to cure the mortification.

He directed them to get three lambs, skin them, one after the other, place
him over a washtub and shower his bowels with a certain number of pails of
cold water, then wrap the warm skin about him, and when cold repeat the pro-
cess until all were used. It was said ihe cure was complete.

(I shrink as I write this, it seems so incredible. But think I have not
misstated it.)

Mr. Weeks told me that he was surely dead, and that his spirit was escorted
away by a bright spirit, told of some things which he saw and of his reluctance
to return, when the spirit told him he must do so. He spoke of seeing his dead
body as he looked in at the window on his return, at the time his escort left him.

No one, I think, ever suspected Mr. Weeks of any intended deception in
these matters. He was represented as a quiet, frank, truthful boy, always.

When I knew him he was a very modest Christian man, respected by all.

He told me he was reluctant to tell many things which were apparent to
him, for he always feared the power of discernment was through the influence
of some evil spirit. "And yet," he said, " I cannot help seeing many things which
I could wish were hidden from me."

I do not pretend to give any explanation of these and many other things

told me.

Chas. W. Gushing.
Wellsboro', Pa., May 6th, 1897.

THE SOMNAMBULIST OF LYONS.

Stilling, in his work, " Pneumatology," makes the following statement con-
ct^.iing the clairvoya.it powers of magnetized subjects, and illustrates his doc-
trine by a quotation from the " Courier of the Lower Rhine," concerning the
Somnambulist of Lyons :

CLAIRVOVANCIv

3^9

\y all.
mt to

lence
'hich

con-

Idoc-

the

I have said that these persons, in their elevated state, are unconscious
of anything in the visible world, except their maj;;netizcr ; but as soon as the
latter places them eii rapport with another person, by means of certain graspinijs
of the hand, they immediately see this other person in like manner, not with the
eyes. Out from the region of the pit of the heart ; and in this same way they
perceive, also, distinctly and correctly, what that person thinks and imagines at
the time. In this state the somnambulist has a most lively recollection of his
whole life ; all the faculties of his soul are in a state of elevation, but as soon as
he awakes again he is totally unconscious of it.

" Persons who have long been magnetized, who have often been in a state
of somnambulism, and have attained to a high degree of inward vision, read and
recognize drawings and pictures which are held before the pit of their hearts.
That there is no deception in this matter, which is incomprehensible according
to our common mode of thinking, is evident from the repeated experiments that
have been made, so that there is no longer any doubt of the certainty and
correctness of the fact. Gmelin, Wienholt, Bockman, etc., have made these
experiments so frequently and so carefully that the thing may be received as an
infallible truth, founded in nature, and from which correct influences may be
drawn.

" A well-known, learned, and estimable divine saw these experiments in
Hamburg ; they appeared to him so remarkable, and brought to light so much
of what was before mysterious, that he published a very interesting little book
on the ' Inward Man,' but the following account, which is contained in a Stras-
burg paper, called th Courier of the Lower Rhine (number 31, 12th of March,
1807), exceeds in remarkableness all previous evperiments upon this subject. I
will therefore insert it verbatim:

'• ' The history of the somnambulist of Lyons,' says the Journal de Paris,
'presents an assemblage of such striking facts that we should be inclined to e-
gard the whole as charlatanry and deceit, if credible eye-witnesses had not
vouched for the truth of it. People may smile on hearing it asserted that n
hysterical woman possesses the rare gift of revealing future things to those with
whom she stands en rapport, but such is .he case ; the wise man believes without
precipitation, and doubts with caution. M. Petetain, an esteemed physician in
Lyons, who has long watched the progress of the disorder with which the lady
is afflicted, is occupied in arranging the facts he has collected, and in preparing
them for publication. Previous to the appearance of M. Petetain's announced
work, we will adduce the following facts, which are related by a respectable eye-
witness, M. Ballanche.

" • The catalepsy of a lady in Lyons had been for some time the subject of
conversation in that city, and M. Petetain had already published several very
surprising facts relative to it, when M. Ballanche became desirous of being an

.; I

330

GUMTSES OF THE UNSEEN.

eye-witness of the astonishing effects of this disorder. He chose the moment
for visiting this lady when she was approaching the crisis.* At the door he
learned that not every one without distinction was permitted to approach the
patient's couch, but that she must grant the permission. She was therefore
asked if she would receive M. Ballanche, to which she rephed in the affirmative;
upon this he approaclied the bed, in which he saw a female lying motionless, and
who was, to all appearances, sunk into a profound sleep. He laid his hand, as
he had been instructed, on the stomach of the somnambulist, and then began
his interrogatories. The patient answered them all most correctly. This sur-
prising result only excited the curiosity of the inquirer. He had with him
several letters from one of his friends, one of which he took, with whose contents
he imagined himself best acquainted, and laid it, folded up, on the stomach of
the patient. He then asked the sleeper if she could read the letter, to which she
answered yes. He then inquired if it did not mention a certain person whom he
named. She denied that it did. M. Ballanche being certain that the patient
was mistaken, repeated the question and received a similar answer in the nega-
tive ; the somnambulist even appeared angry at his doubting it, and pushed
away the hand of the inquirer and the letter from her. M. Ballanche, struck
with this obstinacy, went to one side with the letter, read it, and found to his
great astonishment that he had not laid the letter he intended to have selected
on the stomach of the sleeper ; and that, therefore, the error was on his side.
He approached the bed a second time, laid that particular letter on the place •
and the patient then said, with a certain degree of satisfaction, that she read the
name which he had previously mentioned.

" ' This experiment would, doubtless, have satisfied most men, but M.
Ballanche went still further. He had been told that the patient could see
through the darkest substance, and read writing and letters through walls. He
asked if this were really the case, to which she replied in the affirmative. He
therefore took a book, went into an adjoining room, held with one hand a leaf of
this book against the wall, and with the other took hold of one of those that
were present, who, joining hands, formed a chain which reached to the patient,
on whose stomach the last person laid his hand. The patient read the leaves
that were held to the wall, which were often turned over, and read them without
making the smallest error.

'"This is a faithful and simple relation of what M. Ballanche saw. An
infinite number of objections may be brough' against it, but a hundred thousand
substantial arguments can not overthrow one single fact. The lady still lives, is
seen by many impartial persons, and was long attended by an expert and
respectable physician, who attests the same. The individuals give their names.
Who is bold enough still to deny it ? ' So far the Strasburg paper.

*The time o( the magnetic sleep.

see

lafof

that

lient,

laves

hout

An
knd

^S, IS

CLAIRVOYANCE.

331

*• This narrative contains nothing that is not confirmed by numberless ex-
periments ; one circumstance is, however, remarkable, that the lady in question
can read at a distance, without coming into immediate contact, when a line of
persons take hold of each other's hands, the first of whom lays his hand upon
the pit of the heart — not of the stomach, which has nothing to do with the
matter — and the last holds the letter ; however, she reads through neither the
partition nor the wall, but through the soul of him who holds the book or letter.
By a similiar connection or chain, electricity, or the electric shock, is communi-
cated. All this is still obscure, but in the sequel it will become clearer.

" Equally remarkable, and perhaps still more important, is the observation
to which all confidence may be attached, that somnambulists, when they have
attained to a certain high degree of clearness of vision, manifestly and distinctly
perceive the thoughts and ideas of him with whom they are placed en rapport.
He, therefore, who intends to magnetize another, should himself be a person of
pure heart, of piety and integrity."

PSYCHOMETRIC READING.

Clairvoyants pretend to have the power to detect the magnetism of the
individual in any article of his clothing and from these to give more or less
complete description of the individual. The strange case of John P. Weeks,
of North Danville, Vt, related in this chapter and referred to under another
heading, may be taken as an illustration of this power. Thus from a glove, a
hat or a cane they assume to descrih j the character and historv of the individual.
Prof. Seymour, in his Psychology, makes the following declaration concernmg
psychometric readings :

I have had several experiences, which would lead me to believe in the truth
of this phenomenon. At one time while in Chicago, after I had delivered a
discourse on the subject of psychology, a lady by the name of Mrs. Wilson
Porter, who lived at Peoria, III., taking hold of my cane (which had been placed
upon the piano, with several other canes, hats and umbrellas) without knowin»
whose it was, and had never seen me before, commenced to read my history,
and spoke of some of the leading events in my life, at the same time telling
the dates on which the events occurred, also my age at the time these events
happened, as well as my age at the time of reading. She then took up the
cane of another man, and read his history as accurately as she had done mine,
and spoke of what was likely to happen when he would reach the age of forty-two
yer-rs. And on appealing to the man for testimony, the man said: "A part
of it was true, but he could not vouch for the truth of all that had been said."
When the lady replied : *' I am aware that you cannot vouch for all that has
been said, because you have not reached the age of forty -two years ; but in one
week from next Tuesday, you will be forty-two years old, and on that day you

W' i

33a

GLIMPSKS OK IHI': UNSKKN.

will be able to testify." The /^'cntienian arose and stated that on tha day h•^
would reach the a<;e of forty-two years, and that, althouf^h he harl never seen the
lady before and (being a travellinf; man) was a stranger to everyone present, still
what she had told him was true. I might give you many more instances of
similar experiences, but what I have said is sufficient to give you an idea of what
is meant by psychometry. I will not attempt to give you its philosophy. It is
claimed by those Psychometrists that we impart a certain amount of magnetism
to everything we touch, and that by taking hold of that which has been charged
by our magnetism they are enabled to sense the conditions of the person whose
magnetism they come in contact with. And as every important event in our
lives makes a lasting impression upon our individuality and consciousness, the
impressions made by these events are imparted to our magnetism; and as our
magnetism, which we are constantly throwing off from our bodies, carries with
it the very nature of our being, they claim, by sensing this magnetism, they are
enabled to determine every important event in the history of the person witli
whom they come in sympathy through this magnetism.

Closely akin to clairvoyance or clear vision, is the phenomenon of clairaudi-
ence or clear hearing. It is a faculty more rarely developed than clairvoyance,
and yet akin to it in many ways. The curious reader may consult the interview
recorded in the chapter on mind-reading for some interesting references to
clairaudience, as recorded in Principal Austin's interview with a mind-reader.
From " Hudson's Law of Psychic Phenomena " we clip the following expression
of views and illustrations of this power :

The Century Dictionary defines clairaudience as " the supposed power of
hearing in mesmeric trance sounds which are not audible to the ear in the
rational waking condition."

This, as far as it goes, is a correct definition of that faculty; but it defines
a very small part of its field of operation, and that part which is of the least
importance. It may be defined, broadly, to be "the power of hearing the
spoken words of a human soul." In other words, it is that faculty of man's
intelligence which enables his objective mind to receive communications from
his own subjective mind or from that of another by means of spoken words. It is
by no means confined to persons in a mesmeric trance, although it seems
probable that one must be in a partially subjective state to enable him to hear
clairaudiently. The degree of subjectivity may be very slight, so that the per-
cipient may seem to himself and others to be in a perfectly normal condition.
The sounds — if that may be called sound which does not cause atmospheric
vibrations — are perfectly distinct to the consciousness of the percipient, but are
not perceptible to others who may be near him and in the normal condition.
Like all other means for bringing the operations of the subjective mind above
the threshold of consciousness, the sounds have from time immemorial been

ri.AIRVOVANCK.

333

[fines

lleast

the

lan's

Ifrom
It is
;ems

Ihear
per-
:ion.
leric
are
lion.
)Ove
)een

attril)utecl to supernatural a<j;encics. Socrates (urnislied the most iiotabK; ex-
ample in ancient or modern times of a man wliose subjective mind was ahh> at
any time to communicate messa<;es to his obj^Jtivc mind by means of spoken
words. It is well known that he supposed iiimsclf to be constantly attended by
a daemon, or j:»uardian spirit, who watched over him and warned him of any
dan<^er that was imminent. (Set; Chapter y.lor fuller discussion of Socratt^s and
his daemon.) The biblical student will recall to mind many instances where
voices were heard, conveying; intellij^ence of the most portentous character, and
a critical examination of some of the instances will not fail to reveal their true
nature.

Many spiritual mediums of the jiresent day have the faculty lart^ely devel-
oped. Some of them are enabled to obtain the nanus of tlu ir sitters by hearing
them spoken clairaudiently, and the names of supposed spirits are obtained in
the same way. It is popularly supposed that the ordinary method of telejxithic
communion, when the messaf^e is not brou'^ht above the threshold of conscious-
ness, is by mental impressions. It is, of course, impossible for us to know the
processes employed in the ordinary communion of subjective minds. It seems
probable, however, that it is by means of sucl; lan<;ua,u;e as is employed b\' the
communicants in objective life. All that is or can he known is that when the
ideas are communicated to the conscious ipiiul, it is necessarily by such means
as can be understood — that is, b}- means which ajipeal to the senses. It is true
that the subjective mind is often able stron<i;ly to inijiress the objective mind,
especially when djin^er to the person is imminent, or when some near relative or
dear friend is in danger. Such impressions are known as premonitions. Some-
times they are so stron<^ as to be of real service in averting; danj^er. But they
are not always reliable, for the reason that we are seldom able to distin,i;uish a
real premonition from that feeling arising from fear and anx'ety regarding the
welfare of those who are absent and very dear to us. Thus, a mother will often
feel that she has a premonition of danger to an absent child, but will afterwards
learn that her fears were groundless. Perhaps at another time a real premonition
will be disregarded. It seems probable that when the laws of subjective mental
action are beiiter understood, there may be some method formulated by which
a genuine premonition may be recognized. It is certain that in all cases where
danger to the person is imminent, the subjective mind makes a supreme effort
to give warning and avert the danger. That being its normal function, its
highest acLivity is exercised in the effort to preserve the life of the individual.
It is sometimes successful and sometimes not; but that the effort is always
made does not admit of doubt. Sometimes it succeeds by means most
extraordinary — clairaudience, not infrequently, being the means of receiving a
warning. Thus, a lady once confessed to a writer that she at one cime, in a fit
of despondency arising from ill-health, attempted to commit suicide. She had

S34

GLIMPSES OF TllIC UNSKKN.

raised a pistol to her head and was about to lire, whoii she heard an exph)sive
sound, apparently in the same room, rescmblinj; a pistol-shot. This caused her
to pause lor an instant, when she heard the words, apparently spokcMi in her
ear: '• not now ; you have two years yet ! " Surprise caused her to lower the
pistol, and rdlcction caused her to desist, and finally to abandon the idea of
suicide. As the two years have not yet expired, it is too early to know whether
it is the case of prevision as well as of clairaudience.

One of the most remarkable cases of clairaudient warninjjj against danger
that has ever come under the observation of the writer occurred near Washing-
ton a short time ago. A well-known colored preacher was aboard a train on its
way to the city. He was dozmg in his seat a few miles out when he was sud-
denly awakened by the cry of " Wreck ! Wreck I " apparently sounding in his
ears. Me thought for a moment that he had been dreaming, but after he was
fully awake he again heard the same words repeated three limes. As he hap-
pened to be the only occupant of the car he knew that no one was playing a
trick upon him, and he instantly bccairie panic-stricken, and rushed to the rear
end of the car and jumped off, although the train was going at the rate of
thirty miles an hour. He was somewhat cut and bruised, but managed to walk
to the next station, where he related his adventure to my informant. Little
importance was attached to the circumstance at the time, as his train passed to
the city in safety. But the very next train that passed over the road in the
same direction was wrecked by the falling of a large rock upon it as it passed. The
rock overhung the track and had evidently become loosene'' by the vibration
caused by passing trains. Subsequent investigation by my informant revealed
the fact that the old preacher had leaped from the train but a short distance
beyond the scene of the wreck.

Now, it may be asked, how do we connect the clairaudient warning of the
old man with the wreck, which did not occur to his train ? It must be admitted
that the circumstances do not constitute an ideally perfect case of a life saved by
clairaudient reception of warning ; but it must also be held that the case is of
all the greater evidential value for that very reason. It is easy to perceive how
the old man's subjective mind perceived the danger, when it is once admitted
that it possesses the power to see that which is not within the range of objective
vision. Ever alert for the safety of the individuals it perceived the danger, no
matter how, it saw the condition of the overhanging rock, and believed the train
would loosen its hold. In the meantime the old man was in that passive,
somnolent condition most favorable for the reception of subjective impressions
or communications. He happened, also, to be clairaudient, and therefore in
the best possible condition for the conveyance of subjective messages above
the threshold of consciousness. And the message was delivered in the most
effective way possible — in the same way in which Socrates was again and again

CLAlKVOVANClv

335

warned of impen(lin<; (lan<j;i'r. That the catastrophe did not liappi^n to his train
proves only that the intclhf^eiice which f,'avc the warninj^ was finite; thit \^s
knowled^'c was circumscribed by the limitation of human judgment, and that it
did not proceed from Omniscience.

A SCOTTISH SEF.R.

'* A i^cr.tleman," says Ferriar. "connected with my family, an officer in the
army, and certainly addicted to no superstition, was (juarlered, early in life, in
the middle of the last century, near the castle of a ^^ntleman in the north of
Scotland, who was supposed to possess the second si<j;ht.

My friend assured me that, one day, while he was reading a play to the
ladies of the family, the chief, who had been walkinf:^ across the room, stopped
suddenly and assumed the look of a Seer. He rang the bell and ordered a groom
to saddle a horse, to proceed immediately to a seat in the neighborhood, and to
inquire alter the health of a lady. If the account was favorable, he then directed
him to call at another castle, to ask for another lady, whom he named.

The reader immediately closed his book and declared that he would not
proceed till these abrupt orders were explained, as he was confident that they
were produced by the second sight. The chief was very unwilling to explain
himself; but at length he owned that the door had appeared to open and that a
little woman without a head had entered the room, that the apparition indicated
the sudden death of some person of his acquaintance.

A few hours afterwards the servant returned, with an account that one of
the ladies had died of an apoplectic fit, about the time when the vision appeared.

At another time the chief was confined to his bed by indisposition, and my
friend was reading to him, in a stormy winter night, while the fishing-boat be-
longing to the castle was at sea. The old gentleman repeatedly expressed much
anxiety respecting his people, and at last exclaimed : ' My boat is lost ! ' The
colonel replied : ' How do you know it, sir ? * He was answered : ' I see two of
the boatmen bringing the third drowned, all dripping wet, and laying him down
close to your chair.' The chair was shifted with great precipitation. In the
course of the night the hshermen returned, with the corpse of one of the
boatmen."

A CLAIRVOYANT VISION OF WATERLOO.

The following is taken from Mr. Stead's Borderland, which is devoted to
occult phenomena :

The phenomenon of the spectral rehearsal of tragic events in the scenes
which may have occurred is familiar to students of psychical research. There
was, as has been frequently remarked, something in nature like a compound of
Edison's kinetoscope and phonograph, which, when a certain mysterious sprini-^

336

GLIMl'SRS OF TFiE UNSKRN.

is inadvertently touched, displays before the astonished beholder the spectral
semblance of the action that occurred lonjr ago. The story of Mr. Light is,
however, so recent and so vivid, and it relates to so famous a battle, that I have
much pleasure in reproducing it here.

Mr. Light, editor of the Herts Giiard'uvi, writes to me as follows :
About twelve month? ago I read, with great interest, but with even greater
incredulity, your publications regarding " spooks."

Last summer I met with a rather singular adventure, which has caused me
to modify my disbelief ; and I take the liberty of enclosing the record of my
experience, in case you may care to glance at it. I published it in our Christmas
Supplement two weeks ago, and I dare say it is believed by our readers to be a
joke. It is absolutely true, every word of it.

AT MIDNIGHT ON MONT ST. JEAN.
(Heiiij; a plain, iiiivarnislied ghost story. I

Had a friend of my own related this story to me six months ago I should of
course have had only one word for it — " Bosh ! " Until that night at Mont St.
Jean I had never seen tiie faintest trace of an apparition; though I may be said
to have courted such society for jears. I economize what little intellect I
possess by never trying to solve psychical problems. As to ghosts, until last
June I considered them as fabulous as the unicorn. WHien, therefore, I relate
how I saw spectres on the lield of Waterloo, I am ([iiite prepared to have this
narrative treated with the contemp- that everybody will consitler it deserves.

I had been atteiuling the International Conference of Journalists at Antwerp
and Brussels, and as the great majority of the members present were Frenchmen,
I went to the spot surreptitiously, instead of listening to all the speeches. At
the mound of the Belgian lion 1 fell in with a party thoroughly re[)resentative of
Greater Britain. An ex-Cavalry-Sergeant Major — who is a member of the
Corps of Commissionaries, and has authority from the Belgian Government —
acted most efficiently as our guide.

Of course we went overthecosy Hotel Musce (whose landlady is the descend-
ant of a Waterloo hero).

In the afternoon I went over the farm of Hougomont, the visit being made
doubly interesting by the courtesy of an artist-author, representing the famous
firm of Cassell c\: Co. The village from wh.ich the great battle takes its name is,
as evervone knows, some distance from Mont St. Jean, where actual fisjlitin^'- was •
and returning in the evening from Waterloo, along the rough, stony road that
must have jolted the wounded so terribly I was overtaken by a thunder-
storm, which, however, did not prevent tmops of ragged urchins pursuing me
with the request to purchase " ze stick of Waterloo." I took refuge in the hotel

*: :4|i .

CLAIRVOYANCE.

337

jwerp
imen,
At
|ve of
the
nt —

pend-

lade
mous
le is,
|\vas ;
that
lider-
nie
Hotel

and finding there excellent accommodation and pleasant company, I decided to
stay the night.

I went to bed in a room whose window looked direct on the hideons mound
of the Belgian lion ; but to the left, that section of the field of which the centre
is La Haye Sainte, was dearly visible. Though ordinarily a sound sleeper, I
was disturbed by the kicking of a horse in some stable hard by, and the thuds
were so persistent that I resolved to sit at the window until drowsiness came to
my relief. The night was still and calm, and though the sky was slightly over-
cast, the landscape was distinct in the pale starlight. I was not in an imagina-
tive mood, nor even over-thoughtful, my main concern being to put in a certain
quantity of sleep, in order that 1 might be refreshed for a walk to Planchenois
in the morning. If anything was passing in my mind, it related to the jovial
conversation we had held downstuii;:}. But whilst I glanced carelessly across the
field there came to me a sense that something was moving upon it.

"The wind astir amongst the barley," I thought; but as I looked I could
see distinctly a mass of shadowy figures advancing. The array was uneven, as
though marred by sudden casualities, but in front there was a fringe of fire — just
such as would issue from muskets of the Brown Bess order. I shiver now a little
as I recall it; but I did not shiver then.

"This is hallucination," I thought, "and I am precipitating French legion-
aries as Moozeby, in the Strand Magazine, precipitated things ; but I've not come
to Flanders to see ghosts, and am not going to tolerate 'em either."

I got up, walked once or twice across the room, and resumed my seat at
the window, mentally challenging any amount of grand disembodied armies to
come on if they felt disposed. But I soon lost that feeling of bravado. There
across the field in the faint light, that strange company was moving still. It
would halt at times, and anon vanish ; then I could see it again advancing
steadily towards the slopes that on the memorable i8th of June were defended
by the patient and invincible British soldiery.

I got a map of the battlefield out of a pocket, and marked on it the exact
spot of the appearances ; and on the back I made notes as to what seemed
to be happening. If I had been out on that field I should doubtless have
been less deliberate and more uncomfortable ; but I reflected that there were
plenty of mortals within easy hail, and that the poor restless outsiders must be
quite as dead as Julius Caesar.

Thinking that if there was anything to see, it should not be lost for lack of
looking out of window, I returned to my post, and I declare solemnly that I
beheld the same dim fire-firinged line again advancing. It disappeared, and
there seemed a change in the ordering of the battle, for the indistinct mass that
next becp.me visible advanced with a bounding motion. " These," I thou^^ht,
" are cavalry, and history is repeating itself at midnight." (It was really then

338

(ILIMFSES OF THE UNSEEN.

between one and two, a.m.) I then owned to a sensation of awe, wliich was
increased when, over La Haye Sainte, I saw cokimns of smoke arising, lit by a
glare amongst the buildings below. These appearancv^s were repeated a plnsieurs
reprises ; and then, as it seemed to me, all the movement was away from, instead
of towards, ** the sunken road of Ohain " that marked the front of the English
position. Finally, there was a confused and choking rush of shadowy hgures
along the road that leads from La Haye Sainte past Belle Alliance to Gemappe ;
and, after that, although I looked steadily across the same ground, I could see
nothing. The same slight breeze, which had never changed direction, was still
rustling the barley, but otherwise the surface of the field was motionless ; and I
felt that in the hush of the starlight I had seen one of the Fifteen Decisive
Battles that have shaped the fate of nations.

Next morning I was jaded ; for it is, perhaps, needless to say that I did not
sleep directly after that experience. After breakfast, I walked across the sodden
fields to Planchenois, which the Prussians stormed so gallantly.

A storm was impending when I reached La Belle Alliance, on the road to
Braine I'Alleud, and the inn there proved a convenient shelter.

Just past Hougomont, I met what is euphemistically termed a " lady guide."
As she trudged alongside me, conversing with the frankest simplicity, I judged
that she was a good woman and honest, but bound to keep an eye to business.
One of her relatives, she said, had once lived at Hougomont. I then asked
her point-blank if apparitions were included amongst the live-and-dead stock
of that historic farm. The quaint little Flemish peasant became reserved and
serious.

"It is not good to talk of," said Audrey.

" Would your brother, or the husband that is to be, care to cross the field
at night.?"

" No, no," she replied vehemently, adding : '* As to the other, no one
would have me ; I am too plain."

Admitting to myself that there was sound basis for her remark, I told her
how I had either seen or imagined spectral battalions moving towards iMont
St. Jean.

"That is it!" she exclaimed. "It is always like that — it has been seen
before."

Mademoiselle gave me also to understand that those whose own relatives
fought at Waterloo have a kind of special faculty for viewing phantoms.

Doubtless there are whole troops of legends such as these — the wonder
would rather be at their absence from a spot that was the sepulchre of so many
thousands — but the story I have told, however mythical it may appear, is the
true record of my actual experience; and these depositions I would confirm
on oath.

field

one

seen

itives

Kl'.V. II. T. CROSS LEV.

)nder
|nany
the

ifirm

CHAPTER XIII.

UNACCOUNTABLE EXPERIENCES.

OST of the phenomena described in this volume have been easily claspi Tied,
al least tentatively, under one of the various headin<j;s, in terms familiar to
the student of mental science. Thereare other strange incidents and experi-
ences in human life, however, which it is by no means eas}' to put in a distinct and
recognized category. They reveal facts and forces so little known, as yet, that
the human mind has not even theorized to any extent upon them and so far
seem to defy all classification. Yet, they furnish most interesting facts for
contemplation and serve to broaden our view of *^he powers and possibilities of
this wonderful nature of ours which, as some author has declared, is "opened
to the infinite and destined to the eternal."

Human nature is a vast realm, the margins of which only have been
partially explored. " Know thyself," may be accepted as one of the wisest and
most imperative of all counsels to the student, and yet life is altogether too
short for the task assigned. And if he wiio fully knows the tiny flower, as the
poet declares, knows nature and God as well ; how much more truly can this be
said of one who has learned, in any fair degree, this wonderful nature of ours ?

Two things should characterize the student of human nature — faith and
reverence. By faith we here mean a disposition to accept the facts and pheno-
mena of human nature, even where we cannot haza.d a guess at the solution.
Overcredulity may be wisely guarded against, but it is not the chief danger in
our study of human nature. We believe too little rather than too much. We
are too apt to question powers in others which we do not possess, and to deny
or limit those wonderful manifestations of human nature which we have not
experienced or witnessed, or if we admit them in the few we are apt to deny
them to the many.

Another thing necessary in the successful study of human nature is rever-
ence. We are firmly convinced that he who studies aright our human nature
will find within himself two growing convictions as he advances — a growing
conception of the greatness of the human soul and a vivified conception of the
immanence of God in nature, and especially in man's spiritual nature. No one
but a devout student of man who has seen the achievements of the human spirit
in history, art and literature, and its mysterious powers as revealed in psych-
ology, can realize the force and beauty of the Apostle's words : " He is not far

from any one of us."

" Earth's crammed with heaven,

ail

34-'

C.LIMPSES OK THE LNSKKN.

And every common bush afire with God :
But only he who sees takes off his shoes."

To study psychology aright is to study theology ; man and God form one
category, and when we have learned these we shall have learned all.

Nothing is, therefore, trivial or unimportant that throws a ray of lig4it on
the problem, " What am I ? " For, solving this problem, we solve by sequence
that related and oft-repeated problem, ** What is my destiny ? "

In this chapter we have collected a number of striking incidents and
experiences, upon which we make no further comment and hazard no theory.
They are fair samples, in their way, of very much current and interesting
literature bearing upon the powers of the human soul. The reader who is not
at least partially acquainted with the phenomena of hypnotism, clairvoyance and
spiritism, will, doubtless, question th j reality, perhaps the possibility, of some
of these incidents. But if so, and he should consider the evidence alleged, or
the authorities quoted, insufficient to establish the truth of the incidents here
given, we feel assured that wider observation and reading will convince him that
things equally strange are happening every day.

THE MYSTERIOUS VISITOR ON BOARD THE SHIP.

We take the following from the Scottish American Journal:
About thirty years ago a book was published with a somewhat strange
title. It was called " Footfalls on the Boundaries of Another World." Its
author was Robert Dale Owen, son of the celebrated Socialist, Robert Owen,
who was well known fifty years ago. The author of the book was a man of
some distinction, being American plenipotentiary to Denmark. In certain
circles that hook created considerable sensation at the time, from the strange-
ness of some of the things related in it. It was ably reviewed in the Glasgow
Herald at the time. Many interesting things might be culled from this book,
but I only give one from memory, for I lent and lost the book. It is as follows :
Once there was a ship at sea; she had been on a long outward voyage, and
had been at sea two months. The chief mate's name was Bruce, and he
belonged to an old and highly respectable Scottish family of that name. He
had been below taking log, and having made his entry, sung out to the captain,
whom he supposed to be in his cabin : "Latitude so-and-so, longitude so-and-so.
Does that agree with you. Sir?" He got no answer, and, supposing the captain
had not heard him, he repeated the same thing, but again he got no answer.
He turned and Iroked into the captain's cabin, and to his surprise saw a
gentleman whom he had not seen on board before. The gentleman gave him
a strange look, but never spoke ; he had the captain's slate in his hand, and
seemed to be writing something upon it. Meanwhile Mr. Bruce asked who he
was, and what he was doing there, and in a moment, what seemed to be the

UNACCOUNTABLE EXPERIENCES.

'4.1

le
le

gentleman, vanished. Tlie mate then rushed up to the deck, and in a state of
considerable excitement said: "Good heavens. Captain, I saw a gentleman
below in your cabin, and when I made to speak to him he suddenly vanished."
The captain said : " Come, come, Mr. Bruce, don't make a fool of yourself
before the whole crew, and allow your imagination to get the better of you ; you
must be dreaming." " No, Captain, I am not dreaming ; I was never more
awake in my life, and may I never see my family, may I never find salvation, if
I did not see a man in your cabin. He had a mournful cast of countenance,
and wore a wine-colored coat, with light vest. I took in the whole at a glance."
The captain replied : " Can any lubber have stowed himself away, and con-
cealed himself all this time? Let us go below and search fore and aft." They
did so, but they found no one. From the mate's terrible earnestness the
captain got to think that there must have been something in it, and got some-
what interested and remarked : " You say the stranger appeared to be writing
something on my slate ; let us look and see." They did so, and found the
words, " Steer to the nor'-west," written in a peculiar, cranky hand. The
captain said: " Mr. Bruce, did you not write these words ? " He answered:
" No, Captain, I could not write like that if you were to make me owner of this
ship." They did not know what to make of it, so the mate said : '* We have
had a prosperous voyage hitherto ; we might alter our course for twenty-four
hours and steer to the nor'-west, and see whst will come out of it." They did
so, and early next day sighted a ship in the last stage of distress ; they bore
down upon her, and in doing so forgot all about the mysterious visitor who
had made his appearance in the cabin. They soon overhauled the ship,
and on going aboard of her the captain was thanked by the crew for com-
ing to their rescue, when he bluntly said : " No thanks are due; it is only what
one British sailor should do to another." He further said : " I see you have
one person on board, who, evidently, does not belong to your crew." " Yes,
Sir," said the other; "he is a gentleman who had been in poor health and was
recommended by his medical advisers to take a voyage." The captain then
said : "I have a small favor to ask of him." And producing the slate with the
writing made upon it, and turning up the reverse side, on which nothing was
written, asked him if he would write the words, " Steer to the nor'-west," upon
it. He smiled at the request, but did so. The captain and the mate then
retired, and on comparing the two, found them almost identically the same.
They then went back, and, showing the gentleman that side of the slate on
which the words had been written the day before, asked him if he wrote these
words. He, thinking that the words were those written a moment or so before,
replied with some degree of surprise; " Why do you ask me; did you not see
me write them ? " They then turned up the other side and asked him if he
also wrote these words. For a moment or two the gentleman was in a perfect

344

r.I.lMT'SKS OF THE UNSEEN.

quandary; then his countenace lis^-htonecl up, anci putthig his hand to his head,
as if trying to recall thought, lie said. " O, I see it all now. Yesterday about two
o'clock noon (the time when Mr. Bruce saw the apparition), I fell asleep and had
a pleasant dream, and in my dream I thon_i,dit I was on board a barcpu; in appear-
ance in every way like this, and while in the captain's cabin I wrote upon the
captain's slate : ' Steer to the nor'-west.' The captain of the rescued crew cor-
roborated this testimony, and saiil that the _i,a;ntk;man ' came on deck after his
sleep, and bade them all be of good cheer, for he had seen in a dream a barque
coming to their relief.' "

The captain of that ship and his mate, Mr. Bruce, vouched for the accuracy
of that story in every particular, " Yes, there are more things in heaven and
earth than we dream of in our philosophy."

A STRANGE CONJUNCTION OF AN IMI'ERATIVK IMPKKSSION AND AN
APrAKITION PRIXEDING DEATH.

Rev. Dr. J. S. Ross, pastor of the Wellington street Methodist church,
Brantford, supplies the following; -'ncidert as narrated by Nelson Howell, Esq.
36 William street, Brantford, and who has authorized Dr. Ross to publish it if
considered suitable for " Glimpses of the Unseen."

" Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Howell, then living in Jerseyville, in the county of
Wentworth, left their home on Saturday, April 27th, 1872, and drove to Rich-
wood, in the county of Oxford, to visit Mrs. Howell's only sister, Mrs. Thomas
Daniels. They left at home two little girls, one six and the other a little over
four years of age. Mrs. Howell was their step-mother, and devotedly attached
tt) them. On Sunday morning they went to church at Richwood, but immediate-
ly after dinner Mrs. Howell starded them all by declaring that she must return
home immediately for she had seen something portentous in her cup at dinner
table. ' It was tea grounds you saw,' replied her husband. The sister protested
.\nd felt very hard over the proposal to return, as a visit of several days' duration
had been intended and expected. The husband also strongly endeavored to
persuade her to change her mind. But she replied, ' I'll go, if I have to walk.'
On the way home on Sunday afternoon she said she had seen a little coffin in
her cup, and felt certain something serious had happened, or shortly would
happen. When they arrived home everything was all right, and the husband
took occasion to remark that her fears were entirely groundless. Nothing trans-
pired till Monday, after dinner. Mrs. Howell was very systematic, and always
put the children to sleep at half-past one each day. These two litde sisters (one
of whom is still living, Mrs. D. W. Coyne, of St. Thomas, Ont.) were outplaying
and came in to ask their step-mother if it was time to lie down. ' No, you have
fifteen minutes yet,' she replied. They went out, but almost immediately
returned, saying, ' O, mamma, come and see the beautiful lady in white.' She

UNACCOUN'lAliLi; KXl'KRIKNCKS.

345

went out diri^clly, but saw no one, and asked where they saw her. The answer
was that she went up the lane towards the barn. No search was made, and they
all returned to the house.

"The washwoman, in connection with her domestic vork, had set a pail of hot
water on tin; lloor, wlu;n in soiiu; unaccountable wa)' the younj^er chiUl made a
misstep, hit lu;r heel as^ainst the pail, and fell backward into the hot water. This
occurred in l(;ss than five minutes after the children saitl they had seen 'the
beautiful lady in white.' The poor child never rallied from the shock, and after
intense; suffering' died at ten o'clock that niL,dit. ' It was their own mother,' the
neiy;hbors said, ' whom the children saw, and who had come to take one of her
little darlings home.'"

KXTRAORDINARY HYPNOTISM ASTONISHINti MCATS ol" MVSTEKIOUS HlNlXiOh.

The fakirs of India are much the same sort of people as the dervishes of Per-
sia and Turkey; a species of medicant monks \wio have succeedcMl in brin(];ing
asceticism to a very effective system. Although in India there are to be found
a larfT;e number of ascetic orders, the fakir order is the larLjest, it liavin<j; been
estimated to contain over a million believers. Some live the life ol hermits —
these are the hij^hest in rank — wiiile others asseml)le in larj^e bodies and traverse
the country bei;fj;in<4 and instructing the people in their duties to Brahma. The
itinerant monks are armed with spears and battle-axes, and it is considered
unsafe for a stranger to meet them alone in an isolated place. According to
Hassan al Bassri, the fakir has the ten attributes of a dog : he is always hungry ;
he has no sure abiding place ; he watches at night ; he never adandons his
master, even when ill-treated ; he is satisfied with the lowest place, giving up
even that to whoever asks it ; he loves the hand that beats him ; keeps still
while others eat ; accompanies his master whither he goes, and leaves no heri-
tage after death. The signal for prayers is the clanking of his chains, when the
followers of Brahma press around him, embrace his feet and listen to his counsel
and precepts. He has recipes for the cure of paralysis, and makes a specialty
of curing sterile women. The class or order of fakirs held in the highest esteem
are the children of poor parents who spend their lives in seclusion in mosques,
devoting their time to the study of the Koran and its laws until they are quali-
fied for the degree of " mollahs " or doctors of theology. These fakirs often
inflict upon themselves the severest penances. Some remain bent forward in
the form of a right angle until they grow into that shape. Others place fire
upon the crown of their heads until their scalps are burned to the bone, b'akirs
have been known to fasten the wrist to the ankle, and in this painful })osition to
perform journeys of many miles, rolling over the ground like a cartwheel. These
penances are undergone to prove to the believing and unbelieving equally, the
special protection Brahma is affording the sufferers in his name. The most

■r- ' .■• ■; •♦>■.

S46

CI,IN[I'SKS OK THK UNSKKN.

extraordinarv feat performed l*y these asvc tics is, undoubtedly, that of beiiiji^
buried iilive, an account of which was published recently in a Vienna paper by
Dr. Honif:;berger, former ^ourt physicinn to the Rajah of Lahore, and corrobor-
ated by Sir Claudius Wade, English envoy resident of Lahore. This feat of
physical endurance thmws the ibrty days' fasting of Dr. Tanner completely into
the shade. The preparation made by Lhese fakirs when about to subject them-
selves to the dangers of iniiumation are th js described by the doctors:

The first duty consists in the constru-'tion of a tomb or cave from which
tlie air and light c.n be w'nolly excluded, to be entered by a small door, which
is walled up with clay as soon as the fakir enters. This cave is provided with a
soft bed formed of sheepskins and cotton. In order to accustom himself to this
abode, ihe experiinentist begins by remaining here at first but a few hours every
day, increasing the time to several days, or until he can almost wholly exist
without air. During this preliminary inhr.bitation of his tomb, he passes his
time in meditation upon the pow(jr of divinity, chanting his prayers and counting
the Erahmanic chaplet until he is able to pronounce six thousand words in less
than twt.'Ive hours. lie also a'^customs himself to positions in which the feet
"re f levated in the air and the head hanging down near to the earth, or the
limbs bent, doubled and twisted into all sorts of contortions. After this practice
wiih the hinges of the body comes the training of the respiratory organs. Be-
ginning by liolding his breach for five minutes, he soon succeeds in holding it
twenty. He also practices the feat of inflating his lungs, allowing the air to
escape by degrees, until the power he acquii>s in this direction is something mar-
velous. Then follows the weekly incisions of the under muscles of the tongue,
twentv-four of wh ich are made when this organ becomes susceptible of being
curved so as to completely close the opening of the larynx. To accelerate this
object the tongue is frequently treated with astringent oils, and rolled back and
manipulated by the fingers for hours. In addition to these special preparations,
the fakir observes the rules of hi'-- caste, notably that of abstaining from all
animal food. After having oaten, to remove all particles adhering to the coat-
ings of the stomach, he swallows, at regular intervals, a long, narrow strip of
li.nen, which he soon withdraws from the mouth again. After the accomplishment
of this severe course of training, which requires several months^ the fakir is
ready to undertake the trial of inhumation.

The most noted of the fakirs who had passed through this ceremony was
Harides, whose burial was witnessed by Dr. Honigberger, and whose portrait
s now in his possession.

On the day appointed, in the presence of the court and a large concourse
of people, Harides appeared in their midst, and seating himself upon a white
shroud, crossed his legs and turned his face towards the east. His countenance
was serene, his expression exalted. Centring his eyes upon the extremity of

UNACCOUNTABLE EXPERIENCES.

347

[was
trait

irse
Ihite
ince
of

his nose, in a short space of time the magnetic catalepsy was produced. The
eyes gradually closed, and th-^ limbs became rij^id. The servant of the fakir —
Harides, being an ascetic of the hij^hest order — hurried forward to close his
eyes and plug the apertures of his nose with linen saturated with melted wax.
Wrapping the body in its shroud he closed it over the fakir's head, tying the
ends firmly, after which the body presented the appearance of a filled sack. This
knot was sealed with the seal of the rajah, and the body, now inclosed in a
wooden box, sealed in I'ke manner, was placed in t!ie cave, the door of which
was closed, scaled, and "ailed in with clay. 'Jhis tomb was guarded day and
night, and thousands of pious Hindoos remained about the spot, glorifying the
saint who was believed now to be enjoying the special favor of Brahma. It was
a time of great religious exaltation.

When the day agreed upon for Harides' exhumation arrived the rajah
and his court appeared at the tomb. Ordering the dried clay to be removed,
and examining the seals of the door and finding them intact, he caused the cave
to be opened. Nothing had been disturbed ; everything remained as when the
fakir entered upon his long sleep.

The doctor, upon touching the shroud, found it covered with moisture.
Upon the servants removing the body from the box he allowed it to stand upright
against the cover for sc me moments while he proceeded to pour warm water over
the top of the sack. Upon the removal of the sack the doctor requested to be
allowed to examine the body before any attempt was made at resuscitation. He
found the legs and arms wrinkled and stiff, the head resting upon the right
shoulder ; no pulsation in the arms or legs was discernible, nor in the region of
the heart. The whole body was cold, with the exception of the head, upon which
the warm water had been poured. The servant was now hurriedly occupied in
bathing the body, after which he vigorously rubbed the limbs, arms and body
with coarse linen cloths. Applications of warm cataplasms were made iipon the
head, to be repeated as soon as cooled. The linen plugs were removed from the
nostrils and the mouth opened, but the fakir still remained inanimate, and the
doctor began to doubt the possibility of his resuscitation although repeatedly
assured that such would be the case, Harides having several times before passed
some time in a state of suspended animation. A knife was now brought, and the
tongue unrolled and placed in its normal condition, it would nut stay, and the
servant was obliged to use force for a time to hold it in place. The eyelids were
rub^ ed with oil, and the servant raised them. The eyes appeared glassy and
staring. After several applications of the warm cataplasms were made upon the
cranium the body was noticed to tremble slightly, the nostrils to dilate, the pulse
to feebly move, and the limbs to become more pliable. Upon covering the
tongue with oil or butter again, it was seen to move perceptibly, and the eyes to
partially recover their brightness. The fakir was indeed returning to life. For

348

(il.IMI'SKS Oh I hi: UNSKKN.

some momi'iits he apjx^ared cnj^faj^ed in collecting his wandering thoiij;hts, which,
when accomplished, he turned to the rajah and cahnly iiujiiired : "Do you hditive
in me now ? "

Th(! whole process of resuscitation had occupied somewhat more than an hour's
time. Althouj^h weak and partially da/etl in his p('rc(!i)tions, the fakir was carri(;d
to th(; residence of the rajah, \vh(;re he was seated at the head of the royal table,
clothed with a robe of honi)r, a chain vi pearls placed about his neck, ami ^old
bracelets encircled his wrists. I'or six weeks he had lain in his j^rave, and the
feast was ordereil in honor of his return of life.

This same fakir was buried by the Rajah of Lahore, in a ^^rave du)^ in the
earth, the soil pressed down around his colhn, a foot of soil coverin*; it, which
was afterwards sown with barley. At the end of four months he was taken out
alive, to the surprise of the rajah himself

Modern science has not been able to shed much light upon this phenomenon.
It is evident, however, that the fakirs are hypnotized previous to their intermcMit,
at least such is claimed to he the case by the advocates of animal majji^netism.
It is well known that in the luiropean hospitals cases of absolute letharj^^y occur,
the suspension of animation lasting sometimes for several months; but how a
human being, after being reduced to the minimum of his vital functions, can exist
without air, nourishment or licpiids is a (piestion the students of physical science
will find it hard to explain. The Hindoo may be able to solve the mystery for
him, however.

THE MACIC OF THK ZULUS.

" During the Zulu war 1 was in South Africa, travelling north through Zulu-
land. In Dunn's reservation, 200 miles north from Durban, in Natal, I saw a
witcii doctor elevate the form of a young Zulu by waving a tuft of grass about
his head, amid surroundings calculated to impress themselves deeply upon the
most prc^saic imagination.

" It was evening, and the witch doctor, who belonged to the class described
more than once by Rider Haggard with great accuracy, was as revolting in his
appearance as the high caste fakirs had been pleasing. A number of fakirs had
gathered about our camp fire, and I had given them some illustrations of my own
skill. They seemed puzzled, but were not specially curious. (Jne of them stole
away, and alter some minutes returned with their own conjurer, the witch doctor
in question.

" After considerable solicitation from the natives, the intricacies of which my
knowledge of the Zulu language did not enable me quite to penetrate, the con-
jurer, who at first seemed reluctant to give his consent to an exhibition of his
powers before me, took a knob kerry, or club, and fastened it at the end of a
thong of rawhide about two feet long. The i'oung native, tall and athletic, whose
eyes appeared to be fixed on those of the conjurer, with an apprehensive stead-

1 my
con-
f his
of a
'hose
:ead-

UNACCOUNTAHLK ICXI'KRIKNCIiS.

.149

fastness, took his own knob kcrry and fastened it at the end of a similiar thony;
of hide. The two then stood al){)ut six feet apart, in the full ^lare of thf fire,
;ind he<;an, .ill the while in sihince, to whirl tluMr knob kcrries about their he. ids,
1 noticed that who.n the two clubs seemed in their swift tlif;ht almost to come in
contact, a spark or flame passed, or seemed to pass, from one of them to the
other. The third time this happened there was an explosion, the spark appeared
to burst, the youn«; man's knob kerry was shattered to pieces, and he fell to the
ground apparcmtly lifeless.

" The witch doctor turned to the hij^h grass a few feet behind us and gathered
a handful of stalks about three feet long. Standing in the shadow and away
from the lire, he waved, with a swift motion, exactly similar to that of the clubs
a few minutes before, the bunch of grass around the head of the young Zulu, who
lay as dead in the hrelight. In a moment or two the grass seemed to ignite in
its flight, although the witch doctor was not standing within twenty feet of the
tire, and burned slowly, crackling audibly. Ai)proaching more closely the form
of the native in the trance the conjurer waved the flaming grass gently over his
figure, about a foot from the flesh. To my intense amazement the recumbent
body slowly rose from the ground and floated upward in the air to a height of
about three feet, remaining in suspension and moving up and down, according as
the passes of the burning grass were slower or faster. As the grass burned out
and dropped to the ground the body returned to its position on the ground, and
after a few passes from the hands of the witch doctor the young Zulu leaped to
his feet, apparently none the vvor:se for his wondt.rful experience." — Prof. Kellar,
in North American Review.

THE REVELATIONS OF A PSYCHIC A STRANGE CASE.

(The following very strange story was told by the Rev. M. J. Savage in the
A rena ( 1 892) and is given almost entire here by kind permission of the publishers.)

The events here narrated occurred in the year 1864, and in a town not
forty miles from Boston. The persons chiefly concerned are these : A Mrs.
C, who had been three times married ; a son, a young man, child of the first
marriage (I shall speak of him by his first name, Charles); two sons by the
second marriage, William and Joshua, aged respectively sixteen and thirteen ;
and Mrs. D., the one who played the principal part, and who tells the principal
story. All these, together with the other witnesses, are still living, with the
exception of the two boys William and Joshua, around whose fate the story
revolves.

On March 25, 1864, Mrs. C. went into Boston for the day. Her son
William had been at work in a wholesale drug house in Boston, but for some
time preceding this date had been engaged with a similar firm in Portland, Me.,
during the refitting of the Boston store, which had been burned. On this day,

35°

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

whlie his mother was absent, he came back from Portland, and was to return to
his former position on the following Monday. This da}-, March 23, was a
Friday. He reached home about two o'clock p.m. Not finding his mother, he,
with his brother Joshua, started for the station, expecting to meet her as she
came out on the five o'clock train. But the mother was delayed, and did not
reach home till two hours later. She was met by a friend of the boys, who told
her that William had got home from Portland. But when she reached the
house the boys were not there. The last trace that was ever found of them
alive was the fact that they had started for the station to meet their mother on
the arrival of the five o'clock train.

At first the mother consoled herself by thinking that they must have met
some friends, and had been detained by them. But when bedtime came and
they did not return, she became very anxious, and passed a sleepless night. At
this time her husband, the step-father to the boys, was in the army, and she had
to rely on her own resources.

The next morning she and the elder son, Charles, began to make inquiries.
They not only searched 'he town, but drove to neighboring towns, searching
every place to which it seemed at all likely that they might have gone. Re-
cruiting camps were visited, as it was thought possible that curiosity might have
led them on some such expedition. But about five i^.m. (this being Saturday)
they returned, and reported to the neighbors that no trace had been found.
The neighborE then offered their services, and started out in various directions,
as their own ideas might guide them. But all efforts proved in vain. Then
they came to the mother, and asked if she had anything else to suggest. She
replied that, if her husband were at home, s!ie should have the pc d searched,
for she felt sure that they must be somewhere where they could not get home,
or they would not have stayed away so long.

But everybody thought it most unlikely that they were in the pond, and this
for two reasons. In the first place they were timid about being on the water;
and in the second place, being in March, it was too cold for them to think of
any such thing as swimming or rowing. On Sunday evening, however, to satisfy
the mother, and in order that nothing might be left untried, they began to search
the pond, and kept on until the darkness compelled them to postpone their
labors. On Monday morning early the engine and church bells were rung, and
the citizens were called together to organize a systematic search of the pond.
Grappling irons were used, and cannon were fired over all the places where it
seemed possible that the bodies might be. Still no trace was discovered.

Such was the situation of affairs when, at about ten o'clock in the forenoon,
Mrs D., one of the neighbors, called on Mrs. C, the mother of the boys, to
show her sympathy and ask if there was anything she could do. By this time
every known resource had been exhausted. So, as a last resort, the mother

UNACCOUNTABLE EXPERIENCES.

35«

S. and

pond.

lere it

Ml OOP,

[ys, to

time

lot her

asked Mrs. D. if she would not f^o to Boston and consult a medium. It is
important here to note that she was not a spiritualist, but was a believer in
Evan<^elical Christianity, and had never had anything to do with spiritualism.
She turned to this as a last desperate resource, because in despair of help from
any other quarter.

It must also be noted that Mrs, D, had no faith in it, and had never con-
sulted a medium in all her life. So, although she had offered her services as
being willing to do anything she could, she tried to beg off from this, as being
both a disagreeable and hopeless errand. But as Mrs, C, urged it so strongly,
and said she wished her, and no one else, to go, she at last and most reluctantly
consented.

She reached Boston at twelve o'clock noon. Meantime, and with more
efficient grappling irons, the search of the pond was continued, but with no
result. On arriving in town and not knowing which way to turn, since she was
not acquainted with a single medium, she went (as some one had advised her
to do) to the office of the Banner of Lights the spiritualist paper. They directed
her to a place near Court Street. The medium here was engaged, and could not
see her. But the man who answered the door sent her to another one in Dix
Place. This one also was engaged, and could not see her. But here they told
her to go to a Mrs Y. on Washington Street near Common Street. By this
time it was about three o'clock, A sitter was just leaving, and Mrs. Y. said she
was too tired to give any more sittings that day. But when she found that her
visitor was from out of town, and that the next day would be too late, she said
that if she would wait long enough for her to take a little rest, she would see
what she could do. Nothing was said that could give her the slightest clue.
Indeed, nothing could be said, for no one had a clue, and it was a clue they all
were in search of. It is important here to note another thing. Up to this time
Mrs. Y., the medium, had never been in the town where the boys resided.

When the medium came again into the room, she walked directly to the
fireplace and stood with her back to Mrs, D. Then, before either of them had
spoken a word, by way of preliminary, she said : " They went east before they
went west." The railroad station is east from the house in which they lived,
and the pond is west. Then she added: "They saw the fire, and so went to the
water." It was afterwards foi-nd that some men were burning brush near the
lake. So knowing it would be some time before the next train, it is supposed
that, boylike, they were attracted by the fire, and went to see what was going
on. The medium then went on to speak of a boathouse with a hole in its side-
This was not mind-reading, because Mrs. D. knew nothing of there being any
boathouse or boat. She continued and described a boat — "a narrow boat,
painted black." Then she cried out : " Oh, dear, it was never intended that
more than one person should get into it at a time ! " She told how the boys

3Sa

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

went through the hole in the side of the hoathouse, found the boat, got into it,
and pulled it out onto the water. She said they had gone buta very little way
before the younger brother fell overboard ; then the older one, in trying to save
him, also fell into the water. Then fhe added : "The place where they are is
muddy, and they could not come to the surface. Why," said she, ** it is not
the main lake where they are, but the shallow part which connects with the
main lake, and they are so near the shore that if it were not this time of the
year (March) you could almost walk in and pick them up." She spoke of the
citizens' interest in seeking for them, but said: "They will not find them ; they
go too far from the shore. They (the bodies) are on the left of the boathouse,
a few feet from the land."

Mrs. D. then said : " If they are in the water, they will be found before I
can reach home."

The medium replied : " No, they will not be found before you get there ;
you will have to go and tell them where I say they are, and then they will be
found within five minutes after you reach the lake." Then she made Mrs. D.
promise to go with them to the lake, and added : " They are very near together.
After finding one, you will quickly find the other."

In spite of all that Mrs. Y. had said, Mrs. D. was still as incredulous as
before. But she had undertaken to see it through, and so started for home.
She arrived at five o'clock. By this time it was known on what sort of errand
she had gone to Boston, and a crowd of the curious and interested was at the
station. As she stepped on the platform, a gentleman asked, " What did the
medium tell you ? " She replied with the question : "Ha^'en't you found them
yet? " When they said they had not, she delivered her message. Immediately
they took a carriage and started for the lake. As they came in sight of the
place, Mrs. D. recognized the boathouse, with the hole in the side, as the
medium had described it. The " narrow boat painted black " had also been
ound drifting in another part of the lake. So by this time, Mrs. D. began to
wonder if the rest might be true. But no one in the crowd seemed to have any
confidence in the medium's statements. They felt that they had thoroughly
searched the pond, and that the matter was settled. But they went on, and
prepared to follow Mrs. D.'s directions.

She stood on the shore while two boats put off in wnich were men with
their grappling irons. In one boat was the elder brother, or half-brother, of the
missing boys. He was holding one of the grappling irons ; and after only three
or four strokes of the oars, he exclaimed: " I have hold of something I " The
boat was stopped, and he at once brought to the surface the body of the older
boy, William. In a few minutes more, and close to the same place, the body of
the other boy, Joshua, was found. The place was shallow and muddy, as the
medium had said ; and, held by the mud, the bodies had not risen to the sur-

UNACCOUN I'ABLE EXPERIENCES.

353

lem

.ly
I the

the
leen
to

iny
|hly

ind

ith

Ithe

Iree

ler
of

he
lur-

face, as otherwise they might have done. The bodies were now placed together
in a carriage, and before six o'clock they were in their mother's house.

At the close of the Boston interview, Mrs. D. asked the medium from what
source she got her claimed information, and she said : "The boys' father told
me." The boys' father was the second husband of Mrs. C, and had been
" dead " for several years, while the mother was then living with her third
husband.

Here, then, is the story. I have in my possession the account as given by
Mrs. D., who is still living and is a personal acquaintance. I have the account
of her daughter, who well remembers it all. I have also the account of Mrs. C,
the mother; of Mr. C, the step-father; of the elder brother, Charle.^ ; of the
sister of Mrs. D. ; of the lady who was at that time postmistress of the town ; of
a man who came into Boston after grappling irons with which to search the
lake ; and also of two or three other persons whose names, if given, would be
recognized as connected with one of the distinguished men in American history.

One other item is of suthcient interest to make it worth mentioning. The
step-father of the boys tells that one day, after his return from the army, the
medium, Mrs. Y., visited the town for the first time in her life, and cam j to his
house. She wished to visit the place where the bodies of the boys were found.
When within a short distance of the lake, she asked him to fall back. She
then became entranced ; and picking up a stone, she stood with her eyes closed
and back to the water. Then she threw the stone over her head, and landed it
in the precise place from which the bodies were taken.

Mr. C. as well as his wife, was an Evangelical in his creed, and had never
had anything to do witli mediums.

Of the truth of these occurrences, as thus related, there can be no rational
doubt. As an explanation, telepathy is excluded, for nobody living was aware
of the facts. Clairvoyance seems to be excluded, for Mrs. D. did not tell the
medmm where she was from nor what she wanted to find out, and clairvoyance
requires that the mind should be directed or sent on some definite errand to
some particular place. What, then, is left? Will the reader decide?

MOLLIE FANCHER.

At the Psychical Congress held at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago in
1893, Judge James H. Dailey read an interesting paper on the case of the
famous MoUie Fancher, of Brooklyii. The Judge has since published a most
interesting volume giving a complete history of this remarkable woman and her
wonderful psychic powers.

The paper was compiled from personal knowledge and observations, and from
the testimony of persons of unquestionable integrity and intelligence. It said, in
substance: " When a young girl Miss Fancher was twice injured in accidents.

354

OLIMI'SKS OK THE UNSEEN.

The injuries caused spasmodic muscular action and spinal trouble, and in 1866
the loss of her eyesight. For a time she was deaf and dumb. For months she
took no food. Her eyesight never came back, but her hearing and speech
returned. Then her power of clairvoyance developed, and for the last twenty-
seven years she has been able to discern objects, despite the fact that she is
blind. At times her vision penetrates hundreds of miles of spaces, and solid
■walls and partitions are no hindrance to her view,

" She has, time and again, described the actions of people many miles away,
and subsequent investigation proved that at the stated time she had described
exactly what they were doing. She has repeatedly read sealed letters without
even touching them. Skeptical physicians sent Dr. E. E. Wright, the famous
English oculist, to examine her eyes. Dr. Wright said her eyes were sightless.
In concluding his report he said :

*' ' In an inner coat pocket I had a score or more of assorted colored skeins
of wool yarn. Gathering one at a time in my closed hand, still in my pocket, I
asked her to name that color. This she readily did with narked promptness
for primary colors, but for the shades and tints she was less prompt, but always
correct. I did not know the color until after the test was made and I had looked
at it. At random I covered a newspaper paragraph. She told the main points
of the article. I read the paragraph and found she was correct.'

" In 1866 she went into a trance which lasted a month. She has no recol-
lection of what occurred during the following nine years She has lain in bed
for twenty-seven years. Time and again she has gone into trances and has
seemingly visited friends many miles away. She would tell exactly what they
were doing while she was in the trance.

" Miss Fancher possesses sextuple consciousness — six different personalties
in the same person — five of whom appear every twenty-four hours. She will
have nothing to do with spiritualists and their teachings."

As the volume above referred to proves conclusively that Miss Fancher
possessed at least, at times, the power of sight, whilst her eyes are sightless, her
vision being at times apparently through her teinple^, and at other times through
her hands, we gi\'e belov a clipping from the Pitlul/i Herald of h'ebruary 13th,
1897, concerning a oimiliar case, which may be accepted for what it is worth :

" Ethel Gilliam, a young girl living with her pi^rents some ten miles east of
Palouse, is at presc;nt the subject of close attention on the part of doctors and
others as the result of remarkable powers deveU^ped since her equally as remark-
al)le resuscitation from supposed death, says the Portland Oregonian.

" Late last fall Ethel was taken seriously ill. At tliat time she was an ap-
parently strong, robust, healthy girl, with every faculty alert. After a long illness
sh(,' died, so it was thouglit. The body was cold and clammy and soon became
rigid. She was mourned as dead, and arrangements were made to bury her on

UNACCOUNTABl.i: KXJ'ERIENCKS.

355

ilties
will

cher
, her

ist ot

and

lark-

ap-
lliiess
bame
T on

the third day. The little body was placed in a casket and all arranj^ements
■made to consign the remains to the earth.

"A jjjlass case was over the face ol the child, and about an hour before the
services, while the heart-broken mother was takin;^ her last look at the dear face,
she Si''W the eyes open as if from a deep sleep. The cover was only laid on the
casket. The mother removed it and the child at once sat up, and in a pained
voice said : 'Oh, mamma, I wish you had not recalled me. But why is every-
thing so black? Why do you not light the lamp ? '

" An examination then showed that the child was totally blind, though
every other faculty was perfect. Although blind she seemed endowed with a
wonderful power that enabled her to read and see by the sense of touch alone,

" She told her parents that she had been in heaven and had seen Jesus and
th(' angels pnd many friends who had gone before.

" Although blind, this girl can read by passing her lingers over the printed
or written page, and can describe persons whose pictures were handed to her.
The latter power was first discovered by ]. B. Cawthorn, a photographer, whose
mother lives in Walla Walla. He told the marvellous story to a Sunday-school
in Palouse city, and Mr. Gray and wife, hearing it, drove out to the home of the
girl to see for themselves. Mr. Gray first handed the sick girl his watch, and
she told him it was a gold watch, and the time ot day by passing her lingers over
the glass.

"To make sure that her power was genuine a paper was held bi>tween her
face and a photograph that Mr. Gray handed to her, and she described the
picture perfectly as that of an old gentleman with gray whiskers, wearing a dark
«uit and a cravat. She read from books and )xipers handed to her, by the use
of her fingers. Mr. and Mrs. Gray tell many other wonderful things in relation to
this child. She has now been ill ten days, and has not been able to digest any
food."

SCHLATTER : IHE MIRACLE-WORKER A SKETCH OF THE '* DIVINE HEALER"

OF DI:NVER WHEN AT THE HElCrHT OF HIS I'OWER.

We clip the following editorial noLice of this unicjue character from a recent
issue of the Ram's Horn. Following this we give a portrait of Schlatter, followed
by a |")ersonal testimony from a clergyman of Denver, who writes of what he has
seen imd known of the "divine healer."

Two years ago a remarkable figure appeared on the western horizon. An
ignorant Denver shoemaker named Francis Schlatter suddenly became trans-
formed into a miracle-worker. In obedience to " silent " voices he gave away
his tools and began a jiilgrimage, bare-headed and bare-fo :)ted, to tlie Pacific
Coast. After walking the entire distance he returned to New Mexico and pi:r-
formed many wonderful cures among the Indians near Albufjuerquc'. After

35*

GMMPSKS OF THE UNSKEN.

fasting forty days and forty nights he appeared in Denver, where he stood, with
uncovered head in all kinds of weather, from nine o'clock a.m. to four oclock
P.M., giving the "miraculous touch" to thousands who passed hy in single ftle.
It was at this time when all the world was ringing with wonder at his deeds,
tliat the following article was ,'Titten by a well-known Denver pastor, who was
intimately acquainted with Schlatter. The healer, being summoned to appear
as a witness against some fakirs accused of selling handkerchiefs he had blessed,
disappeared as suddenly as he had come. Months afterwards he was seen
travelling on the desert of New Nexico. The latest intelligence brings the sad
news of the finding ot his bones among the foothills of Mexico, where he had
probably starved to death.

You have asked nie to write the impression made on me by Mr. Francis
Schlatter, and 1 comply. He reminds me of the peasants of Oberammergau
who were actors in Passion Play, He is simple, serious and direct. There is
not a trace of affectation in speech or manner, no sign of vanity or pride. Most
men who begin by being with God, end by fancying that God 's with them. In
this weakness of the average Puritan, Mr. Schlatter has no share. He accepts-
no money and no thanks. He says : " Thank the Father," and grasps the uv\i
hand that is offered. He is not curious to know the kind of infirmity that is
presented. He asks no questions. He looks to me to bo naturally c strong man
of a tough physical make-up. His seriousness is not of a sullen, sulky kind. He
is a cheerful man, with a sense of humor, and laughs when there is anythnig la
laugh at.

He is childlike — not in a childish way — but in a strong way. I have dis-
covered nothing weak in him.

For some six weeks this man has stood in the sun, and rain and snow, bare-
headed, six hours a day, and ministered to the people who pass him single file in
continuous procession, at the rate of six a minute. After four o'clock p.m., he
waits upon the helpless who have been brought in carriages, and then going into
the house he works late into the night answering letters which he has received
literally by the wagon load. He seems to be growing stronger day by day, more
able to be and to do, more assured and more cheerful.

Of my own personal knowledge I can say that people have been cured by
the power that flows through this man, and many more have been benefited.
The moral effect of simply seeing this man at his unselfish work is marked.
People go to see him in a careless noisy fashion, and come away silent and
serious. He has done, and is doing, the city good. Men are beginning to think
that possibly and probably there is " Some One not ourselves " at work in the
world.

Understand that Mr. Schlatter does not assume to cure anybody. It will
be as the Father wills. He is a mere channel. The power flows through him.

LNACCOUNTABLl': EXI'KRIENCES.

357

dis-

;d by
[fited.
Irked.
It and
Ithink
In the

it will
him.

He simply does not obstruct this free current by any self-will. He has cast him-
self out that God might come in.

'• He that loseth his life shall find it." He has obeyed the command, and
taken up his cross, and, in a literal way, followed Jesus Christ. He has fulfilled
the conditions of power as set forth in the New Testament.

Your space will hardly permit me to set forth in detail the cases of cure that
I have kept track of. I will mention two. One, the case of a locomotive engi-
neer employed on the Atlantic & Pacific K.K. This man's eyes were failing.
He could not tell at a distance, lime rock from trees. A cjuarter of a mile
seemed, to his eyes, to be three or four miles. On his eyes depended his trade,
his living and the living of his family. A locomotive engineer must have cap-
able eyes. This man went to Mr. Schlatter with a kind of desperate faith, and
when 1 saw him a few days ago he could tell me the time of day by looking at
the face of a watch held forty feet away.

Case two, is that of a girl aged ii, who was paralyzed in one side, and is
now, by the testimony of two reputable physicians, made whole.

Mr. Schlatter is a Roman Catholic, and is tolerant of all sincere religion.
In politics, as might be expected, he is a radical. He looks for a great change
to come in this country, and in the world, and soon, before this generation passes.

He reads the prophesies of Isaiah, and seems to interpret them, '^a speaks
of his work as Malachi spoke of his. " The burden of Malachi." He says : "I
had to go to California. I had to walk. I had to go barefooted. I had to fast."
He said to me that no dog had assaulted him but once, and then he had on a
pair of new and fine trousers — much too new and fine — and the dog made them
ragged enough to correspond with his coat.

At present Mr. Schlatter is meeting with little harsh criticism among us.
Even the clergy of Denver are, at least, silent. Here is a man who seems to have
passed the novitiate. It is a lonesome trail across the Mohave desert, and it is
cold on the mountains. Out of loneliness, and cold, and hunger, and manifold
trial and temptation, this man has come to our city, and here he stands willing
to be used according to our needs and according to the loving-kindness of our
God. It is the most remarkable thing that has ever met me. I would gladly
write on, but, perhaps, this is enough.

Mr. Schlatter was a shoemaker in an obscure shop in Denver. He sat at
his mechanical work and made and mended shoes, and thought of other things.
He says that he debated long with himself. Should he listen to the Father and
go, or listen to his own will and wish, and stay ? Should he mend shoes, or
men ? One day he took off his apron and " went out, not knowing whither he
went." I suppose he will soon go away. Where to, I do not know. Wherever
the Father tells him to go I am confident he will go. Whatever the Father tells
him to do I am confident he will do until it is finished. Your comrade,

Denver, Col. Myi^on W. Reed.

358

r.IJMTSKS OF THK INSMI-.N.

\ SI'IKITUAL VISIIAIION.

The account o( the following experience of spiritual visitation was prepared
for his private use by a comparatively 30un'j; minister of the Confer-
ence of the Methodist Church, with whom many of our readers are acquamted,
but who prefers for the present to withhold his name:

" From the middli! of Auj^ust to the middle of November, 1B94, I was in
Clifton Springs, N.^'., at the Sanitarium, trying tf) regain my health. After suf-
fering nervous exhaustion more or less for years 1 had been compelled to quit
work and to take rest. While there I became accjuainted with several mission-
aries from the east, ind b« :an e more deeply interested in tl r work. On
returning home I fou i- : iolf ugain and agam drawn out in -nyer for the
prosperity of mission. u\ (.,; tern lands till the thought occur ed to me that
genuine prayer for an) > -uth u' ir object involves a going forth of sympathy
toward that object, that such goiuj, forth of sympathy involves a drain upon tiie
nervous energies, and that in my frail condition of health I had better not burden
my sympathies too much with the woes of the heathen world. Thus, without
intending it, without even thinking of it, I had been fulfilling the conditions on
which special spiritual manifestations are given. This brings me up to Decem-
ber 31st, 1894.

" On the evening of that day an irresistible influence came upon me and
brought me into a condition of mind which is best described by the word
' ecstasy,' the word used, you will remember, by St. Luke in Acts x., 10, when
speaking of Peter and his vision of the 'great sheet let down from heaven.' ^
continued in this condition forty days and forty nights. Throughout that period
I ate very little, had little desire for food. I slept an hour about midday, and
sometimes an hour in the latter part of the night, but many a time I lay awake
the entire night, the most wonderful things passing through my mind through
every hour. I had very little to say to anybody, had no desire for human
societ}-. If I had not seen a single human face, not even the face of my wife,
tiirough all this period of nearly six weeks, I should have been just as well
pleased. The wilderness would have been a congenial place to me for I was in
rapt communion with God.

" On the evening stated there began to come to me the most beautiful,
felicitous, and forceful language, expressive of divine compassion for all the
lonely and betrayed, the oppressed and heavy laden of the world, and of divine
wrath and judgment against all betrayers and oppressors. It was suggestive of
St. Paul's experience when 'caught up into Paradise,' and listening to 'unspeak-
able words.' This continued three or four days and nights, after which I was
filled with boundless assurance and joy. For a long time my highest earthly
ambition and hope had been to be a faithful pastor on a country circuit, now I
believed that my bodily strength would be restored and that I should yet preach

U\A( COUNrAHI,!-: KXI'KRIKNCKS.

359

,gh

ful,

It he
line

of
fik-

ras
Illy
Iv I

»clt

^lad ticlin;.;s and denounce social injustice before n.ultitudes of men. The effect
of all this upon me was like that of listening to the most powerful and magnetic
oratory. I was swept and swayed like the river plant in a torrent. Again and
again in the day time and through the nights my h"' rt would palpitate under
the influence of overpowering emotion, my body wo Jci De bathed in perspiration,
and in lour or five days I was reduced almost to skeleton. I ca.. readily
believe, indeed, that ' no man can see the divine face (the full manifestation of
the divine character) and live.'

" Then, in (jod's mercy, came an abatement for two or three days during
which I ate very heartily, slept a good deal, and seemed to be supernaturaby
restored. I began then to look into the Scriptures and noticed that ' forty days
and forty nights ' was a frequent period of spiritual manifestation, as in the
case of Noah in the Ark, Moses m the Mount, Elijah in the wilderness, our
Saviour in the wilderness, and ... disciples between the resurrection and the
ascension, Acts i. 3 (and po'siblv : aul as recorded in II. Cor. xii. 1-3), and
I said to my wife : ' I shall -.J e »;ijie of how long this experience continues
with me.'

"Again the ecstasy can>e c, a.id for days and nights together the meaning
of the Scriptures was unfol- \ t^ me in a manner that astonished me. I thought
of the statement : ' Then opened He their understanding that they might
understand the Scriptures. A simple and beautiful analysis which I had never
read nor thought of before, of the Sermon on the Mount ' came to me* one night,
then followed the nieaning'of the Parables, of the discourse in John xiv.-xv.-xvi.,
and of many other passages, including even portions o^ Revelation. Then 1
; aw the cycles of history, the methods of God in Providence, the advancing
stages in the ethical education of the race, and the condition of society at the
present time as never before, and I came out of that ecstatic condition on
l"'ebruary 9th, 1895, with the assurance that I had been divinely illuminated and
anointed to teach the doctrines of the spiritual life and to advocate social and
economic reform ; but I was again in a condition of utter physical prostration.
Dan. X. 8, and viii. 27.

" Once or twice during the overwhelming emotions of this period the quest-
ion came to me ' am I sane,' but a moment's consideration compelled me to
dismiss it. This experience had many characteristics of a divine visitation
among which were the following: The period of its duration, its method-madness
gambols from the point, but this followed the order given in Gal. v. 22-23, love,
joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, moderation,
and again, its perfect harmony with that peculiar discipline of solitary suffering
and of seeming failure which I had been bearing through the years.

"Although that ecstatic condition passed away at the end of forty days, m\'
mind, naturally enough, was excessively active for a long time afterwards in

(•Ilil-)

360

r.I.IMPSKS OF THK UNSKKN.

ruminating over all that I had learned, and my restoration to physical health
was, in consequence, very slow; in fact it was only after many months that 1
ealmed down to a normal condition. But this too was in perfect harmowy with
St. Paul's statement that ' (iod has not given us the spirit ot fear, but of power
and love and of a sound mind.' The word for 'sound mind' in the oiii^inal
signifying 'a sobering' and referring to that intoxication of influence which
accompanies a great spiritual visitation."

ANECDOTE OF SIR JOHN THOMPSON — A CURIOUS EXPKRIENCK
HKLATEI) HY I'AITH FENTON.

Sir John Thompson was never given to much speaking. Me lacked the
small coin of gossip and light badinage in a marked degree. His words were
few and thoughtful. His attitude was that of the onlooker rather than the
participant. Yet when time for speech arrived he was always ready.

This was noticeable in the House. When one of those breezes of disagree,
ment so common in parliamentary debate sprang up between member and
member, or party and party. Sir John — who usually sat in that atmosphere of
absolute quietism which seemed in itself a strength to his followers — waited
until the matter had gone far enough or threatened the dignity ot the House,
then he arose and spoke the few wise, judicial words that made instantly f^^
peace.

In debate it was the same. His was always the final utterance upon any
subject ; not because of his official position, but because his few words summed
up the entire matter. He was judicial always, and his impartial attitude won
recognition and favor upon both sides of the House.

In private life he was much the same, speaking little but always a kindly
observer; and nothing was more attractive to those privileged to meet him
socially than his attitude of readiness to be interested and pleased.

•' I know I am not a talker; but I am pleased to hear you talk, and ready
to listen," his quiet look and bearing said to all who approached him. And
because of these abiding qualities of strong sympathy, and a thoughtfulness that
was not secretive, wrapped in an atmosphere of quietism. Sir John was a prince
of listeners.

Yet he enjoyed fun, as most quiet people do, and when in the privacy of a
friendly circle the merry talk went round, he — the usually silent listener — would
frequently arouse himself to contribute something — -an opinion, mayhap, or an
incident out of high official experience — that was well worth the hearing.

It was on such an occasion, and only a few months before his death, that
he related in the presence of the writer one of those curious experiences that,
doubtless, occur to all men of high official position, who become naturally a
mark for cranks and faddists.

U N ACCOU N r A It I .K KX I' E R I RNC ES.

S«r

)f a

)uld

that
|iat
llv a

That it relates very closely to the Old Chieftain, and has hitherto heen
known only to some thref, or .'our of Sir John's associates, will render it of
interest to Canadians everywhere :

" It was an Auj^ust afternoon of that last summer of Sir John Thom[)son'8
life, and in the company of his family and two or three friends he sat on the deck
of a certain pretty yacht as it rippled its way across the waters of Lake Kosseau.
The Premier had been silent, as was his wont, lyin^ back in his chair with closed
eyes, with only an occasional smile, showing; that he heard the conversation
carried on about him.

Presently the talk turned on hypnotism. Sir Mackenzie Howell, who was
an adept at the art in his young days, related certain stirrinfj; experiences of his
personal explorations into the misty land of psycholoj^y ; and urged on by the
joking skepticism of Senator Sanford, offered to give practical illustration of his
power on the spot.

Sir John roused suddenly into a decisive veto against the half-jesting pro-
posal.

•The thing is all nonsense, of course, but we mustn't have anyone tampered
with,' he said ; and as the conversation drifted on naturally to the subject of
clairvoyance and dreams, he related the following incident :

I had been premier something less than a year, and Sir John Macdonald

had been dead, as you will remember, years, when one morning my

private secretary came into my office and said that a young man wanted to see
me, but would give neitljer his name nor his business.

ns on enquiry he appeared to be respectable and wel -mannered, I gave
orders that he should be admitted.

On finding himself alone with me, he told me frankly that he was afraid I
would be surprised at his errand.

* What do you want ? ' I said.

' I ha, a a message for you from Sir John Macdonald,' he answered,

I looked him over keenly ; but he was evidently in earnest, and moreover
seemed conscious of his position.

I enquired quietly what the message was, and in what manner he received it-
Sir John Macdonald had appeared to him distinctly on several recent oc-
casions, he said, urging him to bring a certain message directly to me ; and so
strong was the influence exerted, that he felt impelled to relieve himself of re-
sponsibility in the matter by complying with what he believed to be a request
irom a dejiaited spirit.

The message related to certain private funds that belonged to Miss Mary
Macdonald, and which her father — so the young man asserted — desired to be
transferred and otherwise invested.

After the young man departed I made a few enquiries concerning him. He

36a

CiMMI'SKS OK I UK UNSKKN

caine from Nova Scotia, and was en^aijcd in temporary work at Ottawa in the
lUiildiiif^s. lie bcloiif^fd to a tli(>r<)u<4ldy respcctabit' family, and up to the
present bore no rt^piitalion for iTralicisni o( any kitid.

I mentioned tlie matter to tiie lawyer entrustiul with the MarnsclifTe inter-
ests, and he eonfessed himself at a loss to understand how the private affairs
involved in the • message ' could have come to the young man's knowledge since
they were known only to himself. But he adinitted that the course indicated
concerning tlu; funds in (juestion might be sound business advice.

The matter had almost passed from niy memory, when one day, several
months later, the young man jireseiited himself again with a second 'message'
from the same source, this tune for myself. Sir J(^hn Macdonald was earnestly
desirous that c(>rtain changes should be made in the Cabinet.

I took the young fellow in hand and cjuestioned him closely. As far is I
could discover he was honest, and apparently an unwilling bearer of these per-
emj)tory messages.

Why they were given to him, he said, he did not know ; but after they were
given he had no peace from the nightly appearance of Sir John Macdonald re-
iterating his commands until th(;y were fullilled.

Sir John Thompson's quiet lace broke into a sinile of amused remembrance
rtt this point in his story.

You would need to understand Sir John's well-known penchant for plan-
ning Cabinet changes, he said, in order to appreciate the effect of this last
' message ' upon my colleagues, whom 1 took into confidence in the matter.

They listened in silence ; but it was Sir Adolphe Caron who voiced their
thought in one expressive sentence :

•(iood Lord ! ' he exclaimed, ' is the old man at it again ? '

'What were the proposed changes, Sir John ? ' queried one of his listeners
when the laugh subsided.

Ah, that is another story, he said, smiling. But again the curious fact is
that they were excellent suggestions, and just such changes as I should like to
have made myself had it been practicable. Yet this young man knew nothing of
politics — much less of the inner workings of the Cabinet."

CHAPTER XIV.

HUMAN PKODIOIl'.S.

OST of the pold of earth is hidden from human sicjht in the deptlis of the
rocks. It is not easily approached, and lie who would possess it must
}-)ierce the rock and bend his back to continued toil. Yet sufficient of
the precious metal coines into view to fascinate the eye aii'" tempt men to toil
for hidden treasure.

So our human nature displays not on the surface the inherent greatness of
the human soul. Here and there a genius, rising it may be out of obscurity,
shines upon the world for an hour. Now and then, in ordinary life, a prodif^^y
appears, displaying powers of mind or soul that astound his (ellow-men. These
are but the outcrop})ing of precious metal beneath. They are a promise and
a prophecy of what man will be. They are a declaration of man's inherent
greatness and wonderful destiny. They tell us what all men may become and
do under more favorable circumstances and in a sunnier clime. So there is a
place and a work, even in this busy world and utilitarian age, for the human
prodigy, and " Blind Tom " has a mission to fulfil, if it be only to reveal to
humanity the possession of powers and possibilities in human nature but little
known and heeded.

Most men are wont to regard " Blind Toni," and other men of transcendent
genius, as more than human, as belonging to a class by themselves entirely
distinct from the " common herd." But surely this is a great error in reasoning,
for what race do these men represent but the human ? And what do their won-
derful powers declare but the greatness of our common human nature ? Every
race and every class in nature is measured by its greatest productions — showing
what the class or race is capable of under the most favorable conditions. The
lesser productions in race and class illustrate the power of hindrances. And so,
if we ask the measure of man's intellect, it is fair and logical to mention an
Aristotle and a Newton. If we ask the measure of man's memory, we may
point to the phenomenal memories of Macaulay and "Blind Tom." If we ask
the measure of man's imagination. Homer, and Dante, and Milton, and Shake-
speare illustrate it. If we are asked the measure of man's spiritual power, Paul,
Knox, Wesley and Moody answer for us. We append a brief outline of a few
men whose wonderful powers have attracted world-wide attention.

ZERAH COLBURN, THE MATHEMATICAL FKODIGY.

Zerah Colburn was one of the most remarkable mathematical prodigies on
record. 3,^,

i I I t tO

i'^

366

(-1,IMP81<:S OK THE UNSEEN.

The following account of liis early career, published when he was yet
under eight years of age, is taken from the Annual Ref^ister of 1S12, an English
publication, and will serve to illustrate the jiroposition :

The attention of the philosophical world has been lately attracted by the
niost singular phenomenon in the history of human mind that, perhaps, ever
existed. It is a case of a child, under eight years of age, who, without any
previous knowledge of the common rules of arithmetic, or even of the use and
power of the Arabic numerals, and without having given any attention to the
subject, {possesses, as if by intuition, liie singular faculty of solving a great
variety of arithmetical cpiestit/ns by the mere operation of the mind and without
the usual assistance of any visible sxinbol or contrivance.

The name of the child is Zerah Colburn, who was born at Cal)ut (a town
lying at the head of the Onion River, in Vermont, in the United States of
■'America), on the ist of September, iS(j4. About two years ago, August 1810,
although at that time not six years of age, he first began to show these wonderful
powers of calculation which have since so much attracted the attention and
elicited the astonishment of every person who has witnessed his extraordinary
abilities. The discovery was made by accident. Mis father, who had not
given him any other instruction than such as was to be obtained at a small
school established in that unfn^cjuented and remote part of the country, and
which did not include either writing or ciphering, was much surprised one day
to hear him repeating the products of several numbers. Struck with amaze-
ment at the circumstance, he proposed a variety of arithmetical (Questions to
him, all of v^lnch. the child solved with remarkable lacility and correctness.
The rews of the infant prodigy was soon circulated through the neighborhood,
and many persons came from distant parts to witness so singular a circumstance.
The father, encouraged b)- tiu' unanimous <jj)inion of all who came to see him,
was induced to undertake with his child the tour of the United States. They
were everywhere received with the most flattering expressions, and in several
towns which they visited, various plans were suggested to educate and bring up
the child free from all exi')ense to his family, ^'ielding, however, to the pressing
solicitations of his friends, and urged by the most resjiectable and p(jwerful
recommendations, as well as by a view to his son's more complete education,
the father has brought the child to this country, where they arrived on the 12th
of Max, last ; and the inhabitants of this metroi)olis have for the last three
months had an opportunity of seeing and examining tins wonderlul phenomenon
and verifying the reports that have been circulated respecting him. Many
persons of the first eminence for tiieir knowledge in matluMuatics, and well
known for their philosophical inquiries, have made a point of seeing and con-
versing with lum, and they have all been struck with astomslini(>nt at his
extraordinary powers. It is correctly true, as stated of him, that he will not

HUMAN rRODIC.IliS.

367

great

everal

jng up

lessing

kvcrful

|ation,

I2t:h

[three

icnon

vlany

well

con-

his

not

only determine with the greatest facility and despatch the exact number of
minutes or seconds in any given period of time, but will also solve any other
(juestion of similar kind. He will tell the exact product arising lr(jm the
n dtiplication of an}- number consisting of two, three or four iigures by any
other number consisting of the like number of figures ; or any number consisting
of six or seven places of figures being proposed, ho will determine with ecjual
expedition and ease all the factors of which it is composed. This singular
faculty conseciuently extends, not only to the raismg of powers, but to the
extraction of the square and cube roots of the number proposed, and, likewise,
to the means of determining whether it is a prime number (or a number incapable
of division by any other number), for which case there does not exist at prt^sent
any general rule amongst mathematicians. All these, and a variety of other
questions connected therewith, are answered by this child with such promptness
and accuracy (anci in the midst of his juvenile pursuits) as to astonish every
person who has visited him.

At a meeting of his friends, which was held for the purpose of concerting
the best methods of promoting the views of the father, this child undertook,
anc" completely succeeded in, raising the number S progressively up to the
sixteenth povver. And in naming the last result, viz.: 281, 474, 976, 710, 65G,
he was right in every figure. He was then tried as to other numbers consisting
of one figure, all of which he raised (by actual multiplication, and not by
memory) as high as the tenth power, with so much facility and despatch that
the person appointed to take down the results was obliged to enjoin him not to
be so rapid. With respect to numbers consisting of two figures, he would raise
some of them to the sixth, seventh and eighth jiower, but not always with (>qual
facility, for the larger the products became, the more difficult he found it to
proceed. He was asked the scjuare root of I()0,y29, and before the number
could be written down, he immediately answered, 327. He was tb.en recjuired
to name the cube root of 268,336,125, and with e<}ual fa(-ility and promptness
he replied, 645. Various other questions of a similar nature, respecting the
the roots and powers of very high numbers, were pro[)osed by several of the
gentlemen ])resent, to all of which he answered in a similar manner. ( )ne of
the party requested 'nim to name the factors which j^roduced the number 247,-
483: this he immediately did by mentioning the numbers 941 and 263 — which,
indeed, are the only two numbers that will produce it. Another of th<Mu pro-
posed 171,395, and he named the following (actors as the only ones, viz.: 5x34,
279. 7x-^.-1^5.59x -Q05, 83x2065, 35x4, 897, 295x581 and 413x415. lie was
then asked to give th(^ factors of 36,083, but he immediately replied that it had
none — ^which, in fact, w,is the case, as 36,083 is a prime number. Other
numbers were indiscriminately proposed to him, and he always succeeded in
giving the correct factors, except in a case of prime nuinbers, which he discovered

,!■:

368

GLIMPSES OF THK UNSEEN.

almost as soon as proposed. One of the gentlemen asked him how many minutes
there were in forty-eight years; and before the quescion could be written down,
he replied 25,228,800; and instantly added that the number of seconds in the same
period was 1,513,728,000. Various questions of the like kind were put to him,
and to all of them he answered with equal facility and promptitude, so as to
astonish everyone present, and to excite a desire that so extraordinary a faculty
should, if possible, be rendered more extensive and useful. It was a v/ish of the
gentlemen present to obtain a knowledge of the method by which the child was
enabled to answer with so much facility and correctness, the questions thus put to
him ; but to all their encjuiries on the subject (and he was closely examined on
this point), he was unable to give them any information. He persistently de-
clared (and every observation that was made seemed to justify the assertion),
that he did not know how the answer came into his mind. In the act of multi-
plying two numbers together, and in the raising of powers, it was evident, not
only from the motion of his lips, but also from some singular facts which will be
hereafter mentioned, that some operations were going forward in his mind, yet
that operation could not, from the readuiess with which the an-.'^ers were fur-
nished, be at all allied to the isuai mode of proceeding wUh suiii subjects, and
moreover, he is entirely ignorant of the common rules of arithmetic, and cannot
perform upon paper a simple sum in multiplication or division But in the ex-
traction of roots and in mentioning the factors jf high nu .v ers, it does not
appear that any operation can take place, since he will gve the answer immedi-
ately, or in a very few seconds, where it would require, according to the ordinary
method of solution, a very dilificui! and laborious calculatiori • and, moreover, the
knowledge of a prime number cannot be ob'ained by any other rule.

" It must be evident, froi : what has bv;ie been stated, that the singular
faculty which this child possesses is not altogether dependent on his memory. In
the multiplication of numbers and in the raising of powers, he is doubtless con-
siderably assisted by that remarkable quality of the mind ; and in this respect he
might be considered as bearing some resemblance (if the difference of age did
not prevent the justness of the comparison) to the celebrated Jedidiah Buxton,
and other persons of similar note. But in the extraction of the roots of numbers
and in determining their factors (if any), it is clear to all those who have wit-
nessed the astonished quickness and accuracy of this child that the memory has
rMthing to do with the process, and in this particular point consists the remark-
able dIlT< r'*nce between ihe present and all former instances of an apparently
similar I ind."

'' I'l.I.li TOM," THE NEGRO PIANIST.

■\nother of the mor.!. loted of the human prodigies of our age is " Blind
Toir," "-ht nej;ro pianist, whose surprising powers of memory, technique, and

,MI ii

igular
In

Inline!
and

HUMAN' 1 lUJDIC.IKS,

369

improvisation are the wonder of the world. Thouoh now no longer on the stage,
it may be said that for twenty years he has captivated audiences of the elite in
Europe and America by his wonderful musical genius which has enabled him to
reproduce the longest and most difficult musical compositions after a single hear-
ing, and in most cases with absolute correctness. He has produced some of the
most startlingly original compositions of an imitative kind the musical world has
ever heard. Me is not only blind but idiotic, and in all respects I)elow the aver-
age intelligence of the uneducated slave class to which he belonged, his parents
being ordinary field hands in Georgia. The editor heard " Blind Tom " in the
town of Cobourg, in 1872, and inserts here an article written for the press at that
time descriptive of " Blind Tom " :

" His sole gift is music. Apart from this, he is to all appearance an idiot.
Yet ' Blind Tom ' has already attained a world-wide reputation for his incom-
prehensible powers of imitation — having performed to crowded audiences in the
largest halls of London and Paris. He imitates perfectly any sound he hears
— whether rain, wind, thunder, railroad cars, cannon, or any nusical instrument
— such as the bag-pipes, organ, music-box, melodeoji and hurp — and all upon
the piano. He is untaught. Music with him appears lo be an overflowing of
genius. He knows nothing of it as a science — could not answer the first scien-
tific enquiry, and yet the art within him is j>erf(, ct.

"The evening of the :9th found the Victoria Hall filled at the hour announced
for the concert. Precisely at eight o'clock. Dr. 1 ioward and his protege entered
the hall and found their way l^ehind the screen, Tom s outer garments were
soon thrown oiT, and he commenced jumping, hooping, skipping about as if pos-
sessed, putting himself into all sorts of shapes, ar,d going through all kinds of

strange movements.

"The doctor soon introduce
ory. Another and another fol

om, who gave his fiiht performance from mem-
.ed from the first m^asical performers. Ne.xt
came " Rocked in the Cradle the Deep," sung in a deep bass, yet \('ry
musical voice. The doctor thei called for some one of the audience to coiae and
play a piece of music for the f time in Tom's hearing, promising a very faith-
ful imitation ; Miss Jones was persuaded to play a piece of her own composition,
and hence unknown to Tom and the audience. During her performance, Tom
stood upon one corner of the stage, with his back to the audience, going through
a thousand strange gyrations, — turning, twisting, shaking, trembling, bowing, etc.
"When the lady was through and escorted from the stage, Tom sat down and
played it through perfectly. Th's is marvellous and yet true ! He composes
music of the highest order. Two compositions of his own were rendersd — one
published under the title of ' Blind Tom's Rain Storm,' was composed at the age
of five years, and called by himself, ' What the wind and rain said to me,' hence
its name. In this he imitates the wind, thunder, and falling torrents of rain so

„ fill

:' iV!

?i1

:|ii

M !

370

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

perfectly, that did the hearer but close his eyes, he ini<j;ht very easily imafrine him-
self in the midst of a terrific storm. Another called 'The Battle of Manassas,' was
composed by Tom while his guardian was stopping for a few days at Savannah.
Tom was permitted to listen to the various newspaper acxounts of the battle
read by gentlemen at the hotel where they stopped. On going to Tom's room a
few days after, he heard Tom going through a new piece of music ol wonderful
sublimity, which Tom was pleased to call ' My Battle of Manassas.' In this,
he imitates the Northern army leaving for the scene of conflict. The hie and
drum playing ' Dixie ' is so perfect that a person would really suppose (it he
could not see), a fife and drum were used. Next the Southern army starting
— the fife and drum playing ' The girl I left behind me,' at first low and soft, as
a sound heard in the distance, then louder and clearer, until they, too, reach
the scene of confiict. Then comes a soft melody entitled the ' Eve of prepar-
ation,' and immediately after the conflict opens — musketry and cannon — then
the din of battle — then in the very midst of the conHict, a train of cars approach-
ing — whistle blowing — brakes, etc., all imitated perfectly. Tom execuies some
of the most difficult pieces of Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Bach, Gottschalk, Thal-
berg and others, and these he learnt by hearing them played. As he is blind,
what he learns of music must be through the ear. Blind Tom, otherwise
Thomas Green Bethune (his parents having taken for him and themselves the
name of their former owner) was born wiihin a few miles of Columbus, State of
Georgia, on the 25th of May, 1849, and is therefore in his twenty-fourth year.
He is the son of ordinary held hands and pure negro. Wonderful Tom ! Well
does he deserve the title, ' the great incomprehensible musical prodigy.' As a
musician he has no living peer. He is trained of God, — untaught, unschooled,
above teaching, above schooling — one of nature's musicians."

HANDEL, B.VCH, MOZART AND MENDEF^SSOIIN.

The following sketches of the great musical prodigies mentioned above,
whose names are familiar to every musician and who will shine as stars of the
first magnitude in the musical firmament forever, were kindly prepared for this
work by one ot the foremost teachers of the art divine, St. John Hyttenrauch,
Esq., Ex-President of the Ontario Music Teaciiers' Association and for the past
sixteen years Professor of Music in Alma Ladies' College, St. Thomas, Ont.

George Friedrich Handel, born at Halle, in Saxony, 1685, showed, at a very
early age, remarkable musical ability. His father, a surgeon, does all that lie
can to oppose the development of his son's remarkable proclivities for music
Still the boy by some means or other, most likely by the connivance of his
mother, succeeds in smuggimg ,i clavichord into the attic where he sleeps,
and here in the dark and with strmgs of his instrument muffled that his stern
father may not hear a sound, he practises, ;md at the age of seven he is already

e him-
s,' was
mnah.

battle
room a
iderful
n this,
le and

(it he
.tartinj^
soft, as
), reach
prepar-
1 — then
proach-
;s some
i,Thal-
s bhnd,
therwise
Ives the
:5tate of

h year.

! Well

As a

hooled,

above,
of the
for this
Inrauch,
[lie past
|)nt.

a very
that he
music
of his
sleeps,
IS st( rn
lalreadv

HUMAN I'RODUllHS -

a player ; about this time the father <;oes on a visit to his elder son, who is rn
tlie service of the Duke of Saxony. Little (ieor<j;e Friedrich runs after the
carria<;e in which the father is travellinj; and is, of course, scolded, but after a
great deal of l)(><4jj;in,i^Ms allowed to go with papa. 'This trip becomes the turnin<Tf
point in his life ; one day alter divine services in the chajiel a desire comes
over the boy to trv the organ. He stfials to it and begins to improvise; the Duke,
who has not left the chapel yet, at once hears and knows it is not his organ-
ist that is ])la\ing. lie makes intjuir.es, the hoy is found at the organ and is
hrought to the Duke, who encourages hnn, and the secret is revealed by the Duke,
who takes the father in hand, telling him that it is an actual crime against
humanity to prexent such genius as the boy has shown, from develoinnent, an'l
gets a |)romise from the father that the lad's musical education shall bo
attended to. The father after their return home allows him the best musical
instruction that Malle can afford, and four years later, when only eleven ye;jjs:i
old, he is sent to I'erlin. He is here recei/ed as a jirodig)-. While here,
the following is told of him : One, Bonoucini, a composer of some reputation, and
also of a jealous disposition, got tired of continually hearing of the boy's great
performances on tin; harpsichord, and wrote a composition for this instrument ful
of the greatest difficulties rle was well convinced that nobody could play it
without study, but the poor man uas very much deceived, for the boy played it aL
sight with the greatest of ease.

G. F. Handel was also a composer at this age. There remains of compo-
sitions from this jicriod, accf)rding to Soldier, one of his biographers, " six trio-
sonatas for two hautboys and a bassoon." All knovv wiiat wonderful immortal
works of art in after yv^'lrs fell from the man, George Friedrich Handel.

Johann Sebastian Bach, the direct descendant of five generations of musici-
ans of note, was, like Handel, a Saxon, born a month later than his great com-
patriot of Eisenach. He also at an early age gives evidence of great talent and
genius in music, so much so that an elder brother with whom he li\ed, his father
having died, and who gave him his musical education, actually becomes jealoun
of his progress in the art. When fifteen years old he left his brother's house and
went to Lunenburg, where he, on account of his great proficiency on the violin
and the clavichord, and also on account of his fine voice, got a place in the select:
Matin choir.

"' In 1703, now eighteen years old, he becomes organist at Armstadt with a
salary three times as high as his predecessor's, who had been dismissed as soon
as the authorities had heard Bach play. He, like Handel, became one of the:
great masters of the art, in some of the forms perhaps the greatest.

In johann C'hrysostom Wolfg-ang Amadenz, son o( Leopold Mozart and'
Anna Bertlineo, who was born at Salzburg on the 27th of January. 1756, we meet:
with one of the n^iost remarkable prodigies in the divine art that the world has

ii'

37a

C.MMl'SKS OK rHK UNSKKN.

seen. When three years old he l)e<;an to sliow a fondness for music. He would
strike chords and find out other kinds of intervals. At four he could retain in
his memory music that he-had heard, and now his father, who was a musician of
great reputation, be^aii to instruct him. Accordinf; to Holmes, one of his
biographers, he was also a composer at this age.

When six years old he plays at the courts of Bavaria and of Austria. Be-
sides the clavier he now also plays the violin. It is related that at a court con-
cert in Munich he played a violin concerto, making extempore cadences. At
Heidelberg he played the organ — only imagine a boy between six and seven years
old playing tlie organ, jiedals and all — and he plays so splendidly that the dean
o, ^ ers his name inscribed on llie organ as an eternal remembrance. Mozart is
now taken to Paris by his father, where he astonishes the people. Here his first
works are published, namely : two sets of sonatas for clavier and violin. The
father writes home tha " the jujople are all crazy about my children." It must
be explained that a sister four and a half years older, who was the greatest female
performer on the clavier at the tiine, was with them, (irim, in a letter, relates
the following fact: A lady asks Mozart to accompan}- her in an Italian cavatina
but she has no music. At the first trial he was not quite correct. He had never
heard the melody, and he retjuested her to repeat it. He had now mastered it,
and not only does he repeat it once but ten times, and at each repetition with a
differenc accompaniment. In a letter from this period the father writes to a
friend : " The high and mighty Wolfgang, though only eight years old, possesses
the accjuirements of a man of forty." His first greater orchestral work, a
symphony, is written on a visit to London. WHien ten years old (1766) he
composes an oratorio ; operas and masses are also produced. In 1770, after the
usual trial of skill, he had to set an antiphona for four voices, which he did to
the astonishment of all present, in about half au hour. He was elected a mem-
ber of the Accadamia Filarmonica in Bologna. Mozart died in 1791, only a little
more than thirty-five years old, havini^ enriched the world with an immense
number of works of art, "works that will remain," as Holmes, one of his
biographers, so aptly says, "the star-y-pointing pyramid of one who excelled in
every species of composition, from the impassioned elevations of the tragic opera
to the familiar melody of the birth-day song; nor will they cease to command
universal admiration while music retains its power as the exponent of sentiment
and passion."

Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy was born at Hamburg the nth of April*
i8og, of Jewish extraction, but baptized in the Lutheran Church and brought
up a Protestant. His father was Abraham Mendelssohn, a banker; the mother,
Leah Salomon, a lady hij^hly educated. Felix early showed musical aptitude.
In 1818 he performed for the first time in public. In 1820 he is already a com-
poser; several compositions f1'<ting from this are preserved. Next year he spent

; would

:t;iin in

ician of

of his

1. Be-
irt con-
es. At
;n years
le dean
ozart is
his first
1. The
It must
t female
, relates
:avatina
id never
tered it,
1 with a
tes to a
ossesses
work, a
766) he
iter the
did to
a mem-
a little
nmense
of his
el led in
c opera
inmand
itiment

April.

wrought

|m other,

)titude.

la com-

le spent

HUMAN I'RODKIII'S

371

a fortnight on a visit Id Goc'the, who is very much interested in the boy and
shows great affection for him. Felix must play for him every day. In 1824, on
the fifteenth birthday of I'^elix, his teacher, Zelter, said to him : " From this
day, dear boy, thou art no longer an apprentice, but an independent member of
the brotherhood of musicians. I proclaim thine independence in the names of
liayden, Mozart, and of old Father Bach." Moscheles paid a visit to Berlin
that year, and was recjuested to give l''elix piano lessons, but declined on tiie
ground that the boy did not need instruction, but he consents to give him advice.
In his (Moscheles) diary he writes: •' To-day, from two to three, I gave Felix
his first lesson ; but not for a moment could I disguise from myself the fact that 1
was with my master, not with my pupil." In 1826 we have from him that
master work, the overture to "A Midsummer Night's Dream," inspired by the
reading of Shakespeare's faerie work. Mendelssohn died in Lcii")zig on the 4th
of November, 1849. He left 119 opera, besides a number of works not marked
with any opus number.

J.\(.(jL'i:s INAUDI, A MATIll-.MAIICAI. I'K()D1(;V.
I'.y Allre.l linicl.

The following account of this remarkable [jrodig)- is from Revue lies Deux
Mondes, translated for the Chuutauquan :

Mathematicians, physicians, and philosophers have had lately a remarkable
opportunity of studying a new prodigy. He is a young man of twenty-four
years of age, named |acques Inaudi. Last February M. Darboux introduced
him at a meeting of the French Academy of Sciences, where he executed with
a surprising rapidity mathematical operations requiring a great number of figures.

Jacques Inaudi was born October 13, 1867, in Piedmont. He is of a poor
family, his parents yet living in very modest circumstances. One of his brothers
is a waiter in a coffee-house ; another is a shoemaker. Jacques passed his early
years in tending sheep. He was about six years old when he first manifested
his passion for figures. While watching his Hock, he combined numbers in his
head. Very different from other known calculators, he did not try to give his
computations any material form, such as counting U[)on his fingers or using-
pebbles, as did young Mondeux and Ampere. Fvery operation with him was
mental and was made by the use of words. He represented numbers to himself
by their names which his older brother taught him. Neither he nor his brother
at that time knew how to read. He learned by ear the names of numbers up to
one hundred, and he began his calculations with this knowledge. He does not
remember that his brother ever taught him the multiplication table. These cir-
cumstances of his early life probably exercised over his methods a p\rticnlar
influence which we shall notice later.

Thanks to his continual exercise, but more to his prodigious talent, the

■M

374

GLIMPSKS OK THK UNSI-FCN.

yoiinjT^ reckoner made rapid pro^^rcss. At seven years of ac^e, he says he was
iible to e.\cci)t(; iiKMitally nuilliplications of ninnbers cont-iininj^ as niaii)' as live
fij^iires.

Soon after this thi- youn^' I'ie(hnont(;se shepherd abandoned his native coun-
try in ord(!r to make with his brother a vaijabond trip in Provence. The brother
phiyed a hand or^an ; Jacipies exhibitt:d a marmot and hcUl out his hand for
jtennies. In order to increase the small income, he i)roposed to the people whom
be met to execute for them his mathematical operations. While strolling^ he
aided the countr\' people in their accounts. He also entered cafes, and resolved
with L^jreat rapidity all the arithmetical calculations which were (jiven him. A
showman obtained possession of him and j^ave e.xhibitions with him in the
large cities.

He came for the first time to Paris in 1880, and was there discovered by
I )r. Broca, who presented him to the Anthropological Society. "The youth,"
wrote Broca in 1880, "is very intelligent, his glance is ([uick, his face animated.
He has no timidity. He does not know how to read or write or how to make
the figures which he holds in his head." He then reported the calculations which
Inaudi made for him and the time required for their solution, and even attempted
to explain the process employed. Unfortimately the boy was still too young at
that time to make himself understood, which fact will explain the errors Dr.
iiroca made concerning him.

Since then Inaudi has made great progress. He has learned to read and
Avrite, and of course his sphere of operations is greatly increased. His instruc-
tion remains rutlimentary in many points, but he has an open intelligence and a
curious mind ; his character is amiable and modest. As a child he was very
frolicsome. He talks agreeably, with good sense, sometimes using irony. He
is very skilful in playing cards and billiards. It is a great mistake to conceive
of him in any way as simply a calculating machine.

He is of small stature, but has the robust look of a countryman. His head
is very large ; his features are calm and regular, and surmounted by a full fore-
head, as high as it is broad ; the nose is fine and straight; the mouth small; the
facial angle very marked, almost a right angle. At the Salpetriere under the
direction of Mr. Charcot, he submitted to a long anthropometric examination,
the full result of which showed that he presented some few unimportant signs of
degeneration.

The operations which Inaudi executes are made in addition, subtraction,
rnultiplication, division, and extraction of roots; he resolves also by arithmetic
problems corresponding to equations of the first degree. All of these are for
him mental calculations, that is, they are made entirely in his head without any
reading or writing of figures, or the employment of any device as an aid to
memory. The following method is the one he always employs. When a

m MAN I'RODKilKS,

.W.S

head

fore-

|1; the

;r the

lation,

[ns of

Iction,
Imetic
re for
any
lid to
len a

problem is ^Mve'ii to him oralh'. he repeats it to himself, articulatinjr distinctl)-, as
if he were stampiiii^ it upon his mind ; if he do(;s not understaml it, he asks to
have it rejxrated Prohlems can be j^dven him in writinj^r, but he pref(Ts to
receive them by means of the voice; if he accepts them in a written form he
always reads them in an audibh; tone. When he has <^rraspeil the (juestion he
says, " I am ready," and be_!j[ins to whisper low and very rapidly ; in this
indistinct murmur a listener can occasionally catch the n;imes of figures. Nothin;^
can distract his mind from its qu(!st ; he carries on the most complex operations
in the midst of the tumult of public exhibitions. More than this, he can talk
with oth(;rs whiU; performini;' tliis mental work ; he responds correctly to (jues-
tions, will even sustain a re<jular conversation, without disturbinj^ his mathemati-
cal work ; the onl)' difference to be observed under tlu;se circumstances is that
the result is not rt^ached so rapidly. During the solution he occasionally puts
his hand to his forehead, or shuts his fists, or traces ima_L,dnary lines with the
index fin^'cr of his rij^ht upon the palm of his left hand. Then, always at the
end of a very short time, he announces, '' I have it," and gives the solution, and,
for his personal satisfaction, proves it.

In his exercises of mental calculation, Mr. Inaudi is remarkable in two
particulars, the complexity of his work and the rapidity with which he completes
it. The greater number of questions given to him contain many figures. lie
will add in his head two numbers consisting of twelve figures each ; he will
multiply two numbers composed of eight figures ; he will tell how many seconds
there are in any promiscuously chosen number of years, months, days, and hours.
These operations demand that he shall hold in his memory the exact problem
and the partial solutions up to the time when the complete result is found. For
such a considerable work as this, Mr. Inaudi gives an extremely short time, so
short, indeed, as sometimes to produce the illusion of instantaneity. The fol-
lowing paragraph has been published concerning him. " He adds in a few
seconds seven numbers of eight or ten figures each; he subtracts one number
from another each composed of twenty-one figures in less than a minute; he
finds as rapidly the square root or the cube root of numbers consisting of from
eight to twelve figures, if these numbers are perfect squares or cubes; it takes
a little longer for the last-named work if there is a remainder necessitating a
fractional part to the answer. He finds with incredible celerity the sixth or the
seventh root of large numbers. He will multiply or divide in less time than it
takes him to announce the results."

As an example of what has been said, we give the following: He was
asked the number of seconds in i8 years, 7 months, 21 days and 3 hoirrs. The
response was given in thirteen seconds. It is proper to say here that he knew
beforehand the number of seconds in a year, in a month, and a day.

However, rapid as Mr. Inaudi is in his reckoning, he does not much surpass

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

12.2

■AS 12.8 |2.5

•" laA ii

Ilk

1.25 1 1.4 1.6

►

^9%

^/^ ^>

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 872-4503

376

GLIMFSKS OF THE UNSEEN.

in this particular the profesi-'onal calculator who is permitted to do his work on
paper. The merit of Inaudi is that he holds all of his operations in his memory.
He has an original, a distinctively personal method in his work. Although
he has learned the ordinary methods of calculating, he does not use tliem. Mr*
Charcot had him perform at the Salpetriere two divisions equally difficult, one
upon paper by the common method, the other in his head after his own method.
The latter required of him only one quarter as much time as the former. He
remains faithful to the processes he used as a child ; he has developed, enlarged,
perfected them, but he has not changed their nature. Mr. Darboux has justly
said that he has never had a master.

The basis of all his calculations is multiplication; even when divisions and
root extraction are required he multiplies. In division, for instance, it is by
groping his way that he finds the quotient; seeking the number which multiplied
by the divisor will give the dividend. These successive gropings were ingeni-
ously compared by Broca to seeking a word in the dictionary.

In affecting a multiplication he follows a method of his own. He decom-
poses a complex multiplication into a series of simple ones. The following
figures will illustrate the process. The number 325 is to be multiplied by 638.
He calculates thus :

300 X 600=^180,000.

25 X 600 - 15,000.

300 X 30:= g,ooo.

300 X 8=r 2,400.

25 X 30= 750.

25 X 8:=: 200.

In fact he makes six multiplications instead of one. He begins at the left,
consequently with the greater numbers. In other cases he completely alters the
problem given him. For instance, instead of multiplying by 587, he multiplies
by 600, then by 13, and subtracts the second product from the first. It is im,-
possible to enter more into details ; what has been said will suffice to give an
idea of his work in general.

A study of Air. Inaudi lends new evidence to the theory of partial memories.
It is the custom to employ the term memory to express the ability possessed by
all thinking beings of preserving and reproducing impressions received. But
psychological analysis and a great number of facts regarding mental diseases
show that memory depends upon many different operations. There exist num-
erous partial memories, special, local; each one of which has its own proper field,
and which possesses such an independence that it alone may become enfeebled
and disappear, or, on the contrary, be excessively developed at the expense of
the others. On this subject Taine cites the cases of painters, sculptors, and
designers, who having attentively considered a model, are able to reproduce it
from memory. Gustave Dore and Horace Vernet had this faculty. As an ex-

h
h
h

HUMAN PRODIGIES.

377

ample of musical memory there stands out the well-known fact that Mozart re-
produced the written music of the Miserere, having heard it twice in the Sistine
Chapel, The study of great calculators presents another aspect of the same
question. With them it is the memory of figures which has acquired an abnor-
mal extension.

At the French Academy the examiners sought to take an approximate
measure of the different kinds of memory of Mr. Inaudi. It was found that in
numbers only he gave surprising results.

This inequality of development in memories assumes an astonishing charac-
ter, when one compares two forms so nearly identical as the memory of figures
and the memory of letters. It is hard to understand why Inaudi, who repeats
readily twenty-four figures, cannot repeat twenty-four letters. But he cannot ;
he hesitates and loses all assurance in attempting even seven or eight. If one
repeats to him two lines of French he cannot reproduce them exactly after one
hearing. What better example of the distinction of partial memories could one
desire ? One hearing is sufficient to fasten in Inaudi's mind a long series of
figures or a complicated problem. He only asks in such cases that the work be
pronounced slowly.

He is able to preserve the memory of the figures an extremely long time.
At the end of an examination he is accustom*^ 1 to repeat all the numbers which
have been given him during the time. One of these experiments, which I saw
him make at the Salpetriere, gave results truly incredible. There had been given
him during the afternoon a great number of problems, which had been taken
down and preserved in writing so that their exact repetition could be verified.
The total number of figures which he repeated at the close was two hundred and
forty-two. It is said that at a trial made since at the Sorbonne he repeated four
hundred. It must be remembered though that he had learned and had retained
these figures in groups probably not exceeding twenty-four, and not as one series.
Between the different groups the memory had had short intervals of repose, and
these intervals have facilitated the retaining of the total mass.

The Academic investigation into the case of Mr. Inaudi revealed another
surprising fact. Other prodigies in figures have taken as the base of their men-
tal operations the visual memory. At the moment when a problem is given to
them they have an interior vision of the numbers c mtained in it, and during
their solution the numbers remain on their mind as if written on a slate. This
method of visualization was that followed by Mondeux, by Colburn, and by all
those who have explained themselves clearly. When the commission questioned
Inaudi closely upon this point he affirmed without hesitation that he had no
visible representation of the figures whatever. " I hear the figures," he said em-
phatically, ** and it is my ear which retains them ; I hear them resounding after
I have repeated them., and this interior sensation remains for a long time." Some

378

GLIMPSES OK THE UNSEEN.

time later in replying to a new question put hy Charcot he renewed his assertion.
" Sight serves me nothing. I have much more difficulty in remembering num-
bers when they are given to me in writing than when they are repeated. In the
former case I am put under a great restraint. Neither do I like any better to
write the figures myself; the writing does not help me at all to recall them."

It is important to know the attitude he takes towards his exercises. As has
been said, when the problems are given to him by the voice he repeats them ;
when in writing he reads them aloud, so that he really puts himself in the same
condition as when they are dictated. When he begins his solution, he turns his
eyes away from the written figures, the sight of them serving to emljarrass his
calculation. Regarding this he recently made a just remark. "You ask me," he
said, " if I see the figures. It is scarcely four years that I have known their
written form, and long before that time 1 was making my calculations."

It has been stated that, while he works, his lips are not completely closed,
and there escape from them occasional murmurs. Charcot sought the effect
if this should be prevented, so he besought Inaudi to carry on his work keepmg
his mouth open. But this did not completely hinder the movements of
articulation which continued to manifest themselves. Another method seemed
preferable to me ; so I asked him to sing in one tone during his work. If the
sound of the vowel used for this purpose preserved its purity, it would be quite
certain that he was not articulating the figures. This experiment caused him
much annoyance. He still preserved the power of calculating, but it took him
four or five times longer than in his noi-mal condtion ; and then the voice betrayed
the fact that he was articulating. This shows that he employs both hearing and
articulation in his work. Which predominates it would be hard to say. He
himself thinks he is guided by the sound.

Another interesting question to be considered is this : under the influence of
what conditions did this little Piedmontese shepherd boy become one of the first
calculators of the century ? Rejecting the chimerical idea of seeking an expla-
nation for genius, we can note comparisons between like pro-iigies to see it their
mental or anthropological development presents common characters.

The study of them all reveals three things : the precocity of the subjects ;
the absorbing, impulsive character of their passion for calculation ; and the
illiterate, sometimes miserable condition under which they have developed them
selves. The history of all presents several traits in common. Most have been
born of poor parents and have grown up without instruction. Such was Mangia-
mele, the little Sicilian shepherd; such was Mondeux, the Toulousian shepherd;
such Inaudi. It is in their earliest years that they are seized with a passion for
reckoning; Mangiamele at ten years, Mondeux from six to ten, Ampere at from
three to five. Gauss at three. This is the time when most children live in the
illusions of plays and of stories. Seemingly without any exterior provocation,

HUMAN rkOUIGIES.

S79

outside of the influence of parents or of teachers, these prodigies begin to com.
bine numbers in their minds.

As they grow up they divide themselves into two distinct categories. All
begin by calculating, but some go much further ; the genius of mathematics is
awakened in them. To this class belong Gauss and Ampere. Others are less
aspiring, and remain always simply marvellous calculators. We do not know
whether this distinction holds in the nature of things, or is due simply to the
chances of existence. A common opinion is that there is a certain relation be-
tween the faculty of calculating and the mathematical mind, and that careful
education would develop one into the other. But experiment has not yet dem-
onstrated this. As for Inaudi the future will decide, but he seems at present
little disposed to school himself in mathematics ; he seemingly prefers simply to
preserve and develop his natural gifts.

What is the influence of heredity upon these geniuses ? A delicate question
which has not yet been elucidated. In the case of Inaudi nothing remarkable
has been discovered in his ancestors, not even any marked peculiarities of char-
acter. No known relative has shown any aptitude for computation ; his brothers
have tried to evolve it, but without success. Neither as to his own individual
history is there anything peculiar ; he has never been sick ; his growth in all
particulars has been quite normal and regular. The Academic investigators
have acknowledged a negative result to their inquest.

Their study, however, has been a fruitful one for psychology. It has given
a remarkable confirmation to the theory of partial memories ; it has made
familiar a new form of mental calculation, the hearing form. Perhaps, also, this
investigation has taught something else We have just established the possibil-
ity of certain faculties, such as memory, increasing their power many times
beyond their normal condition. This important fact allows us to see to what a
large measure of perfectibility the human mind is yet capable.

CllAl'Tl-R XV.

si'iKiii\i.is\r.

SIM RITUALISM in philosophy imphcs the opposite of materialism. In a
more restricted sense it is used to express the belief that the spiritual world
manifests itself by producinij in the physical world effects inexplicable by
the known laws of nature. This belief has probably existed as lon^ as the belief
in the existence of spirits apart from human bodies. In 1848, however, a peculiar
form of it, modern Spiritualism, arose in America, based professedly on abundant
experimental evidence, and spread very rapidly over America and, in fact, over
all the civilized world. It began in a sini^le family. "In 1848 a Mr. and Mrs.
I'ox and their two daug-hters, livinir in Hvdeville, N.Y., were much disturbed
by unexplained knockinj^s. At lenj^th Kate Fox discovered that the cause of
the sounds was intellijjent and would make ra[)S as recjuested, and communication
beings established, the rapper professed to be the spirit of a muidered pedlar.
An investigation into the matter seemed to show that none of the Fox family
were concerned in producing the rapping; but the evidence that they were not
concerned is insufificient, although similar noises had been noticed occasionally
in the house before they lived there. It was, however, at Rochester, where the
two Fo.K girls went to live with a married sister (Mrs. Fish), that modern
Spiritualism assumed its present form, and that communication was, as it was
believed, established with lost relatives and deceased eminent men. The
presence of certain ' mediums ' was required to form the link between the worlds
of the living and the dead, and Kate Fox and her sister were the first mediums.
Spiritualists as yet do not claim to know what special qualities in mediums
enable spirits thus to make use of them. The earliest communications were
carried on by raps or, as Mr. Crookes calls them, percussive sounds. One rap
meant ' no;' three, ' yes;' while more complicated messages were and are obtained
in other ways, such as calling over or pointing to- letters of the alphabet, when
raps occur at the required letters.

' Spirit circles' were formed in several families and other mediums discov-
ered, exhibiting phenomena of various kinds. . . . Information about other
worlds and from higher intelligences was thought to be obtained from persons
who could be put into the sleep-waking state, of whom Andrew Jackson Davis
was, in America, the most prominent example. His work, ' Nature's Divine
Revelations,' was alleged to have been dictated in 'clairvoyant' trance. Many
reputed clairvoyants developed into mediums. The movement spread like an
epidemic.

■im

It was

The

'orlds

iums.

:diums

were

le rap

tained

when

iscov-
other
rsons
Davis
)ivine
Vlany
e an

'(M mm

'i i' 1 - "'''

.V, .^^W^ \

^•:-«f^. m^^- ^

... >■ ■

'Jit'

"\,'\

-' fetl./#^

' \

•

AKK TIIEV NOT AI.I, MIMSli:i<I\( ; SI'IKITS

HUMAN FRODIC.IES

383

Those who sat wiih the I'ox's were often found to become ' meduims '
themselves, and then developed mediumshMi in others. The mere reading about
seances developed a peculiar susceptibility in some persons, while others, who
became mediums ultimately, do so only after prolont^ed and patient waitin<]^."

There was little practical interest in Spiritualism in Europe until 1852, when
a Mrs. Hayden, a professional medium from Boston, went over. The movement
spread like wildfire within a few months of her arrival, its first development being
table-turning, which prevailed all over Europe in 1853. Daniel Douglas Home,
the next medium of importance to go over, appeared in London in 1855. It
was, however, at Keighley, in Yorkshire, that Spiritualism made its first mark in
England, and there the first English spiritualistic periodical. The Yoikshiye
Spiritual Telegraph, was started in 1855. It is very difficult to estimate the
present number of spiritualists. To show how widely authorities differ, it may be
stated that as early as 1867 one authority claimed 11,000,000 in America, and
another was content with 3,000,000. Two periodicals advocate Spiritualism in
England, one of which recently contained advertisements of Sunday meetings in
sixty different towns About thirty publications in America, fifteen in France,
six in Germany and several in Australia, advocate Spiritualism.

The phenomena of Spiritualism may be divided into the physical and the
automatic. The first class, if due neither to conscious or unconscious trickery,
seems to demonstrate the existence of a force hitherto unknown to science. In
this class of phenomena, vouched for by many witnesses, we may reckon the
percussive sounds ; the appearance of lights; quasi-human voices ; musical sounds
produced without instruments; "materializations," or the presence in material
form of what seem to be human hands and faces, and ultimately of complete
figures, alleged to be not those of any person present, and sometimes claimed by
witnesses as deceased relatives; •' psychography," or direct writing or drawing
asserted to be done without human intervention ; spirit-photography," or piioto-
graphing of human and other forms invisible to all but seers, and the passage of
solids through solids without disintegration.

The second class of phenomena consists of table-tilting and turning, with
contact; writing, drawing, etc., through the medium's hand; convulsive move-
ments and involuntary dancing; entrancement, trance-speaking and personation
by the medium of deceased persons, attributed to the temporary " possession ;"
seeing spirits and visions and hearing phantom voices.

In a third class may be placed the cure of diseases by healing mediums.

The automatic phenomena may be explained by the " unconscious cerebra-
tion " of Carpenter. It is about the matter communicated by these means that
the controversy turns. Spiritualists maintain that true information is thus given,
probably unknown to the medium or other persons present, or, at least, expressed
in a way obviously beyond their powers to originate. Another view, now

384

GLIMI'SKS C)l' line UNSKKN.

gaining jjround, is that the information does not rome from the mind of the
medium, but is due to the influence wrouiL^ht on his mind by that of other persons.

The physical manifestations of Spiritualism have met with much criticism
and many explanations. Much fraud has been detected in rej^ard to these mani-
festations. Yet it is stoutly maintained that unmistakably ij^en.iine phenomena
are of constant occurrence. Some allej^e that collective hallucination will e.xplain
what a company profess to have seen and heard. This view is now discarded,
inasmuch as physical effects abide to testify to the reality of the phenomena.
Conjurinjr will e.xplain a very larj^e amount of the adduced phenomena. Many
of the mediums prominently before the public have been convicted of fraud.
Yet it must be admitted that it seems impossible to account, on a natural basis,
for some of the experiments conducted by Mr. Crookes, the scientist, with D. D.
Home, such as the alterations in the weight of a partially suspended board.

In regard to the communications received, it has been found that it can-
not always be relied upon, yet it is maintained by Spiritualists that by the exercise
of reason and judgment, by prolonged acquaintance with particular communi-
cating intelligences, and by proofs of identity with persons known to have been
trustworthy on earth, it is possible to obtain valuable information from beings
not infallible, but with the knowledge of spirit life superadded to their earthly
experience.

It would be impossible to unite Spiritualists in any one creed, which, beside
the generally accepted belief in God and immortality, should postulate more
than the progress of the spirit after death and the power of some of the dead to
communicate with the living by means of mediums.

The explanation of spiritualistic phenomena made by Thomson Jay Hudson
is given in a preceding chapter. We content ourselves by presenting the pre-
ceding outline of the rise of modern Spiritualism, a brief summary of the main
objections to Spiritualism, and a paper in its favor by one of its most distinguished
advocates in America, Mrs. Cora L. V. Richmond, and leave the subject with
the reader's own judgment for settlement.

SUMMARY OF OBJECTIONS TO SPIRITUALISM.

In stating, as I now shall, the main objections current to modern Spiritualism,
I desire it to be understood that the writer does not assume the truth of all the
facts alleged or the correctness of all the reasoning by which conclusions adverse
to Spiritualism are reached. He desires merely to summarize the popular
objections without assuming personal responsibility for the same.

I. It is said that what is new in modern Spiritualism is not true, and what is
true is not new.

It is denied that Spiritualism is in any true sense a revelation. It furnishes
no new truth. So far as intercourse with departed spirits is concerned, it is said

SI'IRIIUAMSM.

385

llism,

]l the

^erse

)ular

lat is

ishes
said

1. That this doctrine has prevailed in many hinds and from the earlitjst
times.

2. It is said that a new rehj^ion, such as many of its followers believe
Spiritualism to be, would never be introduced into the world by the type of men
represented by the average medium. It must be admitted by both friends and
foes that Spiritualisin has sulTered severely from the character of the men who
were professed and acknowIedp;ed mediums. Many of these have been convicted
of fraud, and while some of the jihenomena are undoubtedly {genuine, the fraudu-
lent character of many mediums has become the scandal of Spiritualism,

3. Many contend that the character of the messa<j;es received th:ou^ii
mediums furnishes the strongest proof of its purely earthly source. It is said
that this information is not only inaccurate — as is admitted in many cases — but
puerile, and altogetiier below the type we should expect from beings who have
superadded the heavenly to their earthly experience.

4. Another very popular objection to Spiritualism is the dark "seance.'
Why, it is asked, should the production of this phenomena require the absence
of light? Does not this very fact suggest fraud and trickery? If not, does it
not suggest the co-operati -n of the ^^ powers of darkness ? "

5. Some there are who admit the phenomena of Spiritualism and tha reality
of intercourse with spirits, but believe that all this intercourse is but commerce
with evil spirits. They believe that evil spirits, lying and deceiving spirits,
•'throng the air and darken heaven," and that the Spiritualism is full of deadly
dangers and spiritual peril.

6. Many are the arguments against Spiritualism from its real or supposed
eflfects. It is said to unduly excite the nervous system, and by inflaming the
imagination to lead to insanity. A preacher whose fame is as wide as the
civilized world, has declared that Spiritualism is filling the asylums of the country.
How far this may be true, the writer has not at present any means of determin-
ing. It is very probable there is some foundation for the charge. But, if true,
it must be admitted Spiritualism is not alone in this regard, every form of
religion being responsible as the indirect cause of a certain amount of insanity.
It is also charged that Spiritualism fosters free love and other doctrines subversive
of society. It is only fair, however, to say that while certain bodies of spiritual-
ists have taught such doctrines, they have been repudiated by the great mass of
spiritualists.

We now insert a paper said to have been arranged " by the guides" of Mrs.
Cora L. V. Richmond for the World's Parliament of Religions at Chicago,
October, 1893.

PRESENTATION OF SPIRITUALISM.
National Spiritualists Association, 600 Pennsylvania Avenue S. E., Washington, D.C.

" God is spirit, and they who worship Him must worship in spirit and in
truth." — Jesus.

:i»6

r.l.lMl'SKS OK TMK UNSKKN.

" Now, brethren, concerninj; spiritu;il j^ifts, I would not have you i^'norniU."
—St. Paul.

" Milhons oi spiritual l)cinjj;s walk the earth both when we wak(.' and when
we sleep." — Milton, Uesiod.

*' A little cloud is risin^^ in the west not larger than a man's hand, wlii( h will
one day overspread the earth : that cloud is Spiritualism." — Lord Hr()u<;ham.

•' I have not had time in the midst of a busy life, while solving; the problem
of human freedom, to investigate the phenomena of Spiritualism, nevertheless, I
believe its philosophy and phenomena are true, and that Spiritualism will be the
relij^'ion of the future." — Theodore Parker.

" Sooner than we imagine the day will d iwn when a godless science will be
an unscientific absurdity." — (iiles H. Stebbins.

Gcuoal Statements.

Spiritualism, as a name, is synonymous with all that relates to the spirit :

1. The universal spirit pervading and governing the universe as Universal
Intelligence.

2. The individual spirit whether expressed in the earthly environment or in
the larger freedom of the higher realm.

Specifically, the name applies to the religious, philosophical and phenomenal
aspects of a movement that had its modern beginnings in a series of manifes-
tations spiritual, mental and physical, forty-five years ago.

This movement and these manifestations came unsought by those in mortal
life ; they appeared almost simultaneously in the different portions of this
country, and very soon after in different parts of the world.

The manifestations and the name Spiritualism, in fact, the movement as a
whole and in its several parts, were the result of impelling intelligences outside
of and manifestly beyond human beings in the earthly state.

For convenience only, and without any intention of dividing any portion of
the subject from the whole, and without forgetting that the name in its entirety
signifies all that has ever been expressed from the realm of spirits to those in
mortal life, and all that has been unfolded by aspiration and inspiration from
within the human spirit, the writer will divide the subject into three general
headings, viz :

1. The Phenomenal Aspect.

2. The Philosophical Aspect.

3. The Religious Aspect.

The writer is convinced that this method of presentation will better represent
all classes of minds who are interested in this stupendous movement either as a
whole or through any one of these especial departments.

SPlkllLAI.ISM.

387

;ral

lUnt I.
In the presentation the writer will reverse the order by considering first

The Religious Aspect.

If, as Saint Paul declares, "faith is the substance of thinj^s hoped lor, the
evidence of things not seen," the most cxalt(;d faith must be synonymous with
the most positive knowledge, and the word " faith " must have been misinii:r-
preted in its essential mc:aning by most dc;nominational religionists.

Those who accipt Spiritualism as a new manifestation of, or a new religion
{always using the word •* religion " in the largest interpretation) do so upon the
following basis :

1. The supreme Intelligence; the Mother- Father, God ; the (Jver Soul ;
the Divine Parent, or any other name or term that the individual may choose as
synonymous with Infinite Good, the Love, and Wisdom.

2. The soul (or spirit) as an immortal entity, forever en rapport with the
Eternal, Infinite Ciood, continuously seeking and receiving evidences of the lov-
ing All-Presence; as the sun is the light of the visible universe, so this Infinite
Love and Wisdom is the light of all souls.

3. The recognition of the divine message from God to Man, either by direct
perception awakened in man, or by inspiration from higher realms of spirits and
angelic beings.

4. The recognition of the Great Messianic Teacher or Teachers as the voice of
truth to the world.

Those who receive Spiritualism in its religious aspect are :

1. Christian Spiritualists, who accept the Christ life as impersonated in
Jesus of Nazareth as the highest expression of religious revelation of truth, and
who consider that without denominational or .sectarian definitions, the life and
works of Jesus aro highest guidance, but who also recognize that every age has
been blessed with spiritual teachers chosen to bear to earth the message of im-
mortality and the love of God to man.

Most of these Christian Spiritualists are members of different Christian
churches. There are to be found in every denominational church in Christen-
dom those who accept spirit communion as taught by Spiritualists as a part of
their religion.

2. Spiritualists who accept the word " religion " in the broadest possible in-
terpretation of its meaning ; who recognize the religions of every age as having
their primal basis in inspiration, and who are willing and ready to accept the
truths received in any and every form of faith ; who consider that Zoroaster
or Zardhust, Moses, Buddha, and Jesus were the interpreters of truth to the
ages in which they lived ; that the prophets, seers, and others endowed with
spiritual gifts in every age have been the means of presenting si)iritual truths to

1 1

388

GLIMPSKS OK THK UNSKKN.

man ; that spiritual <;ifts as witnessed to-day amonj^; the media for spiritual
manifestations are similar (making; due allowance for the difterence in the j^eneral
state of humanity) to those that have occurred in past times, especially those
accompanying every new dispensation or manifestation of relij^ious truth, and are
partic iilarly similar to those mentioned in Paul's epistle on spiritual gifts.

J. There are still others who believe Spiritualism to be a new dispensation
of religion ; not only as a new statement of old revealments perjietuating the good
in all past religions, but a new and living inspiration from the Inhniteas the light
of this day, and they believe that Spiritualism, in its entirety of phenomena,
philosophy, and revelation, forms the basis of the new religion.

Spiritualists have no sectarian creed, articles of faith, or statement of belief,
excepting the truth as perceived by the individual, each according to others the
privilege of worshipjiing Ciod according to the dictates of conscience.

There is a feeling of fellowship with all and they meet on the common
ground of universal spiritual truth.

God as manifest in Infinite Love. Universal Fraternity of Souls.

Fart II. — The Flu'losophical Aspect.

" There are more things in heaven ami earth,
Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." —

Shakespf.are in Hamlet,
" We all are parts of one stupendous whole.
Whose body Nature is and God the soul." — Pope.

As religion is love (love to God, human brotherhood).

As science is demonstrated truth or knowledge, so philosophy is wisdom.

The philosophy of Spiritualism is the inblending into the one perfect whole of
all its parts : the union of its phenomena, and spirit, the meeting and merging
of its body and soul.

To many, perhaps a greater number of thoughtful minds than most people
are aware, the philosophical aspect of Spiritualism is its most enchanting, and,
as it seems to them, its most comprehensive side. To the writer it is one side of
the equilateral triangle of which the phenomenal portion is the base and religion
the other side, which triangle solves the circle of immortality.

The logical [)erfection of the philosophy of Spiritualism is the primal state-
ment.

Its harmony with the highest ethics in the undoubted elevation of purpose
(^f the individual, and the whole human race by the substitution of individual
growth and unfoldment into spiritual perfectness for any other method of attain-
ing the highest good here and hereafter. Its propositions are :

I. That the j^resent and continued existence of the conscious spirit, iheego,
inheres in the soul, and is not a special bestowment of the Infinite, or the result
of contact with the human organism.

SPIRIIUALISM.

389

>ple

md,

|e of

fion

|)ose
lual
lin-

iult

2. Tluit whatever may l)e the ideas of individuals or classes conceriiino; a
conscious, an d priori e\istenci>, or pnn'ioiis state of the individual intellij^once
embodied in each human life, there is l)ut on*; philosophical conclusion, based
on the phenomenal and intuitional evidence of Spiritualism, i.e., that the chan,!j;e
called death (or separation from the body) is not only a natural chan<;e (inherent
in all or<;anisms), but that it is the next step in the existence of the spirit,
releasint; or settini; free its activities in the next state or realm, and as perfectly
in accordance with the Divine plan as is the birth into the human form.

In fact, that the next step or state is the le»;itimate seijuence of cxistcMice
here, and that each human sp.rit takes up its line of active individual life in
spirit existence, just where, as an individual spirit, the thread seems broken or
disturbed at death.

3. That the spirit realm includes whatever spirits are, or ne(>d, in that state
of existence, as tiie earth state includes whatever is needed for earthly expression.

4. That the lixed states of happiness or misery are not possible in any state
of the spirit expression, but that each spirit, accordinj; to *j;rowth, continues the
individual activities and unfoldments, and all advance from lower to higher
conditions by »j;radual states of pro»»ression throuj^h unendinfj; cycles.

5. That no vSpirit or An<i;el is too exalted or holy to reach and assist those
who are beneath, and none too low to be aided by those above.

Cycle on c\c\c. must the a<:;es move,

Onward ;iiul iipwanl must all spirits tend,
Sein in tlu- perfect li;,'iit of pt-rfcct love,

All in one supreme pur[H)si' ever blrucl.

6. That the various states in which spirits iind themselves after their release
from the environment of the sensuous ort^anism, the relative and absolute prni-
ciples <^overning those states, the interbleiulin^ of sjiirits in more perfect, with
those in less perfect conditions of unfoldment ; the communion with and minis-
tration to those in earthly existence ; in fact, that the principles j^overniiii; the
spiritual realm and the wisdom by which that realm pervades, encircles and
governs the whole of life are made known.

The J^liilosophy of Spiritualism is the Piiilosophy of Life.

Material science has claimed to prove the indestructibility of the primal
atom, or whatever is the ultimate term for matter.

Spiritualism does prove the immortality of individual soul by !)ases, deduc-
tions and proofs as undeniable as the principles of mathematics.

In its final delinition, it is the Philosophy of Philosophies, as it is the
Religion of Reliijions, and (if need be) the Science of Sciences.

It includes the primal and final statements of matter, the primal and final
terms for mind, the primal and final principles of spirit in the eternal enlity,
the soul and all that relates to states and conditions, degrees, and staLjes of

III'

y)o

GLIMl'SIiS OF THK L'NSl'KN.

expression, all that relates to being, and includes every portion and factor in its-
statement of the whole.

Part III. — The Phenomenal AspccL

This phase of the subject is sometimes designated scientifu although the
writer does not think, individually, that the words science and scientific, as usually
understood, can be applied to the investigation of even the phenomenal phases
of Spiritualism.

Forty-live years ago, scientific men like Professor Robert Hare, of Phila-
delplii I ; James J. Mapes, of New York ; and, later, Alfred R. Wallace, Professor
Crooks and Mr. Varley, of England ; Camille Flammarion, of France ; Professor
Zollner, of Germany, and scores of other scientists of note, investigated the
physical phenomena of Spiritualism and have uniformly declared that there is
no law of material science with which they are familiar that can explain these
phenomena ; and that they have recourse only to the solution always claimed
by the manifesting intelligence, viz.: that the source of the phenomena is dis-
embodied spirits working through means and methods entirely unknown in any-
human science.

As the result of the experiment in investigating the phenomena of Spiritual-
ism, made by so many eminent scientific men in all parts of the world, extending
over the entire period of forty-five years in which Spiritualism as a name and
manifestation has been in the world, from the small rappings near Rochester,.
N.Y., to the various and multitudinous phenomena of to-day, there has been
but one conclusion among scientific men, viz.: that the cause of the phenomena
is imminent in the phenomena, that both are demonstrated beyond the possi-
bility of a cavil or a doubt; and that to investigate the physical, mental or
intuitional phenomena of Spiritualism separately from the whole subject with a
view of ascertaining another cause than that of the action of spirits, is as much
a work of supererogation as to investigate the phenomena of the light of day
with a view to finding another source of light than the sun.

The phenomena, philosophy and inspiration focalize around persons who
are called " Mediums," and that being the name bestowed upon them by the
manifesting intelligences, the spirits who act upon and through them. At the
present writing there is no knowledge among Spiritualists as a body, or investi-
gators within or outside of the ranks of Spiritualism as to what constitutes
mediumship.

Mediums are chosen by the spirit intelligences desiring to manifest, from
among all nationalities, races, classes and conditions of people. Although the
particular gift or phase of mediumship may seem to depend upon, or be modified
by the mental and physical or other states of the individual, the mediumship
per se seems to be determined by the choice or action of the spirit intelligences
governing the manifestations.

SPIRITUALISM.

39«

lI or

th a

luch

day

who

the

esti-

utes

rom

the

ified

^hip

ices

The difficulties to be met in approachiiijj; this invesii.,Mtion from a purely
scientific standpoint are very clear, even if the word "scientific" shall be made
to mean every kind of investigation.

These difficulties we briefly state. Physical phenomena are usually the
basis of scientific investigation, and, naturally, along that line the investigation
must be from effect to cause ; therefore, from the first the investigation must be
confined to results merely. Sometimes science arrives at a perfect knowledge of
results, usually only approximately at causes. With the piienomena as well as
all other phases of Spiritualism the cause is imminent trom the first, and science
has nothing to do but to make a statement,

Tliis may be illustrated thus : If one hears a rap at the door of his room (^r
dwelling, and on opening the door he finds a friend, or any jierson or thing
whatsoever, as the cause of the sounds, he at once loses interest in the phenomena
of the sounds and is occupied by the larger interest of receiving his friend.
There is nothing to be solved. If, however, he repeatedly hears the sounds and
on going to the door, discovers no person or thing that could have produced
them, he commences his investigation to discover the cause.

From the very first manifestation of the phenomena of Spiritualism to the
last, the cause or source of the phenomena has been as manifest as the phenomena.
By as intelligent tnethods as language, signals, or any established system of
communication between mind and mind in human states, these spiritual intelli-
gences have been recognized. Invariably they have declared themselves to be
individual spirits who once lived in earth forms, accompanying the declaration
by evidences of personal identity entirely separated from and independent of any
individual in the earth form at the time of the manifestation.

The cause of the phenomena is, therefore, so clearly identical with the
results as to make a scientific mvestigation, on the basis of discovering a new
cause, entirely impertinent. To ignore the knowledge already gained is totally
unscientific as well as illogical. Therefore, all investigations of Spiritualism
dc novo, claiming, a priori, that the source of the manifestations is still unknown,
is equivalent to ignoring the whole subject.

Doubtless the methods of communion between the two states of conscious
existence, the one preceding and the other following the change called death,
will be formed into an interesting branch in the future study of Spiritualism, or
will be revealed from the same realm by the same intelligences from whence the
movement as a whole has been impelled into mortal life. Possibly that study
may lead to scientific data upon which to predicate knowledge of the methods
by which disembodied spirits communicate with those in the human environ-
ment.

Thus far there has been no formulation of facts, because none v/as neede(J,
each particular manifestation being eiven for the specific purpose of conveyin"^

39*

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

the intelligence desired from disembodied spirits to those in human life ; and
since the philosophy, or rationale, of the whole subject includes both cause and
result, and since these resolve themselves into the one word Spiritualism, the
subject in its entirety is before the world, and the subdivisions may be open to
study.

The conclusions are invariably the same, whether arrived at from the sup-
posed scientific method or the result of philosophical deductions, or revealed by
distinct inspiration, viz. : individual human intelligences existing beyond human
states (and presumably immortal) do manifest under conditions not known by
those existing in human life. The demonstration of this and what it naturally
leads to in all that pertains to the relation of spirits, embodied and disembodied,
to each other and the whole universe, constitutes the realm of Spiritualism.

That there is no solution for the phenomena, physical, mental, or spiritual,
in the known realm of science ; and that, while the methods of communion be-
tween the two states are still unknown, the evidence of the existence of disem-
bodied spirits, and of their communion with this world, is demonstrated.

Spiritualists are by no means tenacious as to terms, and the writer is
perfectly willing to state that to those who pursue the investigation along the
lines of exact science there is the fulle&t appreciation of their work ; but the
majority of Spiritualists, in viewing the whole subject, consider that the whole
subject is beyond the realm of exact science and within the realm of revealed or
intuitional knowledge.

Whatever view may be taken of scientific investigation, of the whole subject
or of its physical phenomena only, it is the proper place here to state that all
scientific minds who have investigated the phenomenal phases of this movement
readily admit, and many of them openly declare that Spiritualism will compel
a restatement of science, either by the readjustment or re-creation of scientific
bases and terms; in the recognition of avast unexplored realm between the
realm of spirit and the heretofore recognized domain of science, whether that
realm shall include a " fourth dimension of space," as suggested by Professor
ZoUner, or whether it will be found to be a realm of occult forces impinging on
the material and spiritual states, and interblending with each, or whether the
results will prove the methods of communion to be simply the setting free of
individual volition. The final adoption of either of these methods, or of any
other not named, must be determined by future revealments, and in any case
the new statement will be incorporated into Spiritualism as a portion of its entire
statement.

Scientific minds in Spiritualism epitomize the whole subject as follows :
ist, the existence of the individual human spirit ; the continued conscious exist-
ence of the individual spirit ; the continued conscious existence of the
individual spirit after the change called death ; the intercommunion of the two

SPIRITUALISM.

393

States by the voluntary action of individual disembodied spirits to and through
those existinj; in human form ; by automatic action upon the brain or any part
of the human orp;anism without the conscious concurrence of the individual
acted upon. 2nd, by action upon sentient or non-sentient objects witiiout tiie
intervention of any human bein<;, exceptint; that these manifestations usually
occur in the presence of a medium who does not voluntarily aid in their pr<Mluc-
tion. 3rd, by action upon all bodies and substances upon the earth or in its
atinosphere, without the intervention of any human aj^ency, and by methods not
known in any existing science.

The scientific statement is the knoivlcdge of a future life, demonstrated truth
of immortality.

Part IV. — A Resume of its Work and Infitience.

In a movement wholly impelled from the realm of spirit and borne forward
on the wave of inspiration, although intelligently met and aided from the first
by many among the ablest minds of the earth, it is utterly impossible to name or
number all those whom it has reached.

Societies have been organized in every state in the Union, and in all parts
of the world as centres for those who have had individual experiences, and to
receive the manifestations and ministrations from the spirit world, but Spiritual-
ism has spread rather by individual experiences than by organized eftort.

As early as i860, the late Archbishop Hughes, of New York, estimated that
there were ten millions of Spiritualists in the United States alone ; pro rata there
should now be thirty millions. Spiritualists claim no definite number, and
numbers are unimportant in a statement of truth. If its principles and its mani-
festations be perceived by but one, alt the world must follow.

The organization of Spiritualists into local societies and now into a National
Association is rather for the purpose of fellowshiji and mutual protection than for
any sectarian purpose, and also for the purpose of making available the manifes-
tations and ministrations, as well as the spiritual teachings given through the
media.

As a whole movement, the scope of its influence is measureless. Its mani-
festations extend into every department of human thought ; its presence in the
world has changed the entire attitude of thoughtful minds concerning the prob-
lems of death and the after life, and their relation to human states, at the same
time opening up for investigation a vast inter-realm, including the latent jiossi-
bilities of the human spirit while in the earthly environment.

It has reached the man of science in his laboratory, or study, and within its
jrare Alembic, has re-wrought the demonstration of immortality.

It has walked into the churches of all denominations, religions and tongues ;

3'M

(ILIMl'SKS OK THK UNSHKN.

has stood beside the clergyman or priest or ministrant, and has wliispered the
messa<;e of immortal life, saying : " Are they not all ministering spirits ? "

It has proved itself a solvent of all religions and philosophies by correcting
erroneous ideas born of imperfect, human interpretations concerning a future life,
and substituting knowledge.

It has restored spiritual gifts and made them a portion of the recognized
opinions of the human race.

it has made thousands and hundreds of thousands to acknowledge by name
within and without the churches ; within and without established schools of
philosophy ; within and without the walks of science, by knowledge alone; and
thousands of others to accept its evidence in the form of belief based upon testi-
mony of others.

Its sources of inspiration are the invisible hosts.

Its teachers and messengers are the great, the wise, and the loved ones wha
have passed on.

It has opened a royal or inner way to knowledge for many who are its chosen
instruments, by touching child minds with facts and data, with scientific and
philosophical knowledge, with wisdom far beyond their years, and with eloquence
unknown to mortal art.

It not only has created a literature of its own, in hundreds of volumes of
experience and philosophy, and scores of periodicals publishing its demonstations
and advocating its propositions, but it has pervaded the best literature of the
age, touching and illumining the minds of such writers as Dickens, Thackeray,
Longfellow, Phelps, and scores of others with its living presence.

Its uplifting influence is felt in every life that accepts its truths, and in the
whole world by making the aims of life here consistent with a continual existence,
primary steps in the external pathway, and by making the basis of life spiritual,
not material.

To a materialistic and unbelieving age,. it has demonstrated the existence
of the human spirit beyond the change called death.

To those who had " hope " and " faith " through any form of religious belief
in a future life, it has added knowledge, and to both has opened the gateways
that had not even been left "ajar" between the spiritual and material realms.

It has removed the fear of death, and what might come to the spirit after
dissolution of the body by a knowledge of the states and conditions of those who
have passed beyond that change as declared by the testimony of disembodied
spirits, who must be in the very nature of the case the only authentic sources of
information upon subjects pertaining to that future existence.

It has bridged the chasm, spanned the gulf between the two states of
existence 1 ■ the Iris archway of love.

Immortal messengers have brought the knowledge of their state of existence

SriRITL'AI-ISM.

395

s of

and have announced in unmistakable ways the nearness of that so-called *' un-
discovered country."

Invisible hands have rekindled the fises Ujion the altars of inspiration that
had long been desolate.

Angels and ministering spirits have anew attuned the voices of mortals to
immortal songs.

And they have " rolled away the stone from the door of the sepulchre " of
thousands of human hearts who thought their dead lived not.

Its authority is truth wherever found.

Its sacred books the inspirations of every age.

Its Oracles and Priests, those whom truth anoints and inspiration calls; its
creed the unwritten law of knowledge, wisdom, truth and love.

Its ceremonials the service of a noble life.

Its communion is with kindred spirits and its fellowship with all.

Its altars, the human spirit ; its temples, living souls.

It is the open door, the present light, the demonstration, philosphy and
religion of the immortal soul.

Calm-browed and unafraid this mild-eyed, open-visioned Presence views the
heretofore and the hereafter, the present and the future, with equal interest and
courage born of perfect truth.

The "well-springs of eternal life" are hers, and she bids mortals drink fear-
lessly at their living fountains.

The "bread of life " is hers, and she bids all spirits partake freely from the
all-bounteous store.

From the vintage of the spirit the wine of her everlasting kingdom is distil-
led in streams of living inspiration.

Poets quaff as this golden goblet is pressed to their lips, and sing the songs
of the spheres.

Sages gather from its open treasure house the wisdom of the skies.

Seers and prophets, inspired anew, reveal again the forever old, forever new,
immortal theme.

The mourner forgets her grief and dries her tears while listening to the
messages of love.

The weary find rest in its all-reposeful and eternal ways.

The weak find strength in its unhindered helpfulness.

Crime, sin and all human imperfections and shadows fade gradually, yet
surely, before its all-potent light.

The whole world touched, awakened, thrilled, aroused from the lethargy of
material propositions and dogmatic assertions, from charnel houses of the senses,
the tombs of death and despair, from sepulchres wherein their hope and faith
and highest love were well nigh buried, turns toward this new day-dawn, saying:
** Is not this the light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world ?"

iiji

CHAPTER XVI.

GEN' I us AND INSANITY.

I I

THE close relation of «,'eiiius to insanity has been a matter of observation
and discussion from the earliest times. Hence inspir.ition was looked
upon in the early days as a form of madness, and by common consent
the prophet and poet were regarded as uttering the words of the Deity. It is a
remarkable fact that the great poets and prophets have regarded the source of
their utterances as extraneous to themselves. They have been sensible during
the period of their inspiration that they were not in a normal condition — that
thoughts and sentiments apparently new to themselves had taken possession of
them and they were under some compulsion to utter truth thus confided to
them. There can be no doubt that much of the thought and feeling experienced
in these periods of inspiration is new to the present consciousness of the poet and
prophet, yet it by no means follows necessarily that the source of this thought
and feeling is outside himself. Nearly all our past thought and feeling is below
the realm of present consciousness and, in the view of some, inspiration amounts ,
to little more than an abnormal mental condition, which brings into the realm
of consciousness what has long been in the "latent" memory. It is an uncap-
ping of the hidden depths of the human mind, an unsealing of a fountain in
which are stored all past experiences of the soul. This, taken along with the
now generally recognized powers of telepathy and clairvoyance, will undoubtedly
account for nearly all extraordinary utterances of the poet and prophet.

There can be no doubt that genius requires the use of stored experiences
which are not ordinarily available, and of hidden faculties of the mind which are
not generally in active exercise. This requires a large departure from the nor-
mal mental condition. And this departure, if of a very marked character, is
often labelled under one or the other forms of insanity. Hence it frecjuently
happens that phenomenal powers of mind seem to co-exist with a modicum of
reason and common sense. The writer recalls one of the most brilliant of all
the students of his college days, who was so destitute of good judgment and
possessed so little common sense that he was always getting into the most absurd
and foolish scrapes, and seemed incapable of learning by experience. He was
noted for lack of " gumption," and yet in preparing a difficult lesson in Greek or
German, could surpass all his college classmates.

The case recited in the preceding chapter of " Blind Tom," the negro
pianist, is directly in point — an incomprehensible musical genius, and yet so
destitute of reason and judgment as to require the presence of a legal guardian.

8!)il

nces
are
nor-
r, is
ntly
n of
all
and
surd
was
k or

5gro
so
lan.

(.KNILS AND INSANITY.

.;'><;

A^ain, we sometimes find childhood in possession of powers of mind which h.ive
an undoubted claim to be considered genius. Several of tiie world-rcnowncd
musicians displayed their wonderful j;cnius in childhood. Zerah t'olWurn.
before he was ei|;ht years old, performed mental calculations with fi^ucs which
astounded th^' mathematicians of the old world and the new. 1 hese facts prove
that fjenius is not dependent on education or the <i[radual developmeiu ol the
reasoning power, but shines forth w,th its own inherent f»lory, and ma\' exist
cither with or without the objective reason. There seems, therefore, to be no
reason, theoretically at least, why the lij^ht of«,'enius mij^ht not shine brij^htly
where Reason's lamp is entirely dimmed. And so we find very frecjuently anion^'
the insane, marvelous powers of memory, often a preternatural cunning,', extra-
ordinary fli<,'hts of imagination, a perception, sometimes, of the hxed laws of
nature, a heightened sensibility, and a genius for music and art; which seems
astounding under the circumstances.

Dr, Arthur Macdonald, Specialist in the Bureau of Education at Washing-
ton, in his very able work, "Abnormal Man," has a chapter entitled " Insanity
and Genius," in which most interesting facts bearing directly upon our theme, are
so concisely and intelligently summarized that we take the liberty of inserting
the following extracts :

" As an introduction to the biographical study of genius, it will be interesting
to give the opinions of the geniuses themselves.

Aristotle says that, under the influence of a congestion of the head, there are
persons who become poets, prophets and sibyls. Plato affirms that delirium is
not an evil but a great benefaction when it emanates from the divinity.

Democritus makes insanity an essential condition of poetry. Diderot
says : * Ah, how close the insane and the genius touch ; they are imjirisoned and
enchained, or statues are raised to them.' Voltaire says : ' Heaven, in forming
us, mixed our life with reason and insanity, the elements of our imperfect being ;
they compose every man, they form his essences.' Pascal says : ' Extreme mind
is close to extreme insanity.' Mirabeau affirms that common sense is the
absence of too vivid passion ; it marches by beaten paths, but genius never. Only
men with great passion can be great. Cato said, before committing suicide :
* Since when have I shown signs of insanity ?' Tasso said : ' I am compelled to
believe that my insanity is caused by drunkenness and by love, for I know well
that I drink too much.' Cicero speaks of the furor poelicns ; Horace of the
amabilis insania ; Lamartine of the lental disease called genius. Newton, in a
letter to Locke, says that he passed some months without iiaving a ' consistency
of mind.' Chateaubriand says that his chief fault is weariness, disgust of every-
thing, and perpetual doubt. Dryden says : ' Great wit to madness sure is near
allied.' Lord Beaconsfield says: ' I have sometimes half believed, although the
suspicion is mortifying, that there is only a step between his state who deeply

I ll

4oe

('.I.IMI'SKS UK TIIK LN.^KKN.

indulj^'es in imaf^inativo meditation and insanity. I was not always sure of my
idtntity or even cxisttMuc, for I have found it necessary to shout aloud to he sure
that I hved.' Scliopcnhauer confessed that wh(Mi he composed his great work he
carried himself strangely, and was taken (or insane. He said that men of genius
are often like the insane, given to continual agitation. Tolstoi acknowledges that
philosophical scepticism had led him to a condition bordering on insanity.
George Sand says of herself, that at about seventeen she became deeply melan-
cholic ; that later she was tempted to suicide ; that this temptation was so vivid,
sudden and bizarre that she considered it a species of insanity. Heine said that
his disease may have given morbid character to his later compositions. However
paradoxical such sayings may seem, a serious investigation will show striking
resemblances between the highest mental activity and diseased mind. As a proof
of this we will give a number of facts, to which many more might be added.

The difficulty of obtaining facts of an abnormal or pathological nature,
and of other unfavorable data, is obvious. Authors have not only concealed
such data, but have not deemed them important enough to record. It is due to
the medical men, whose life brings them closest to abnormal reality, that such
facts have been gathered. If it be said that the abnormal or exceptional must
be taken with some caution, because it is natural for the mind to exaggerate
striking characteristics, it must be remembered that such facts, when unfavorable
to reputation, are concealed. In ♦;he study of any exceptional or abnormal indi-
vidual, as the insane or the genius, one finds much more concealed than is known.

Socrates had hallucinations from his familiar genius or daemon. Pau-
sanias, the Lacedemonian, after killing a young slave, was tormented until his
death by a spirit, which pursued him in all places, and which resembled his
victim. Lucretius was attacked with intermittent mania. Bayle says his mania
left him lucid intervals, during which he composed six books, De rerum natura.
He was forty-five years of age when he put an end to his life. Charles V. had
epileptic attacks during his youth. He stammered, he retreated to a monastery,
where he had the singular phantasy of celebrating his own funeral rites in his
own presence. His mother (Jane of Castile) was insane and deformed. His
grandfather (Ferdinand of Aragon) died at the age of sixty-two, in a state of
profound melancholia. Peter the Great, during infancy, was subject to nervous
attacks which degenerated into epilepsy. One of his sons had hallucinations;
another convulsions and pallid skin, and subject to headaches. Linn6, a pre-
cocious genius, had a cranium hydrocephalic in form. He suffered from a stroke
of paralysis. At the end of one attack he had forgotten his name. He died
in a state of senile dementia. Raphael experienced temptations to suicide. He
himself says : ** I tied the fishermen's cords which I found in the boat eight
times around her body and mine tightly as in a winding sheet. I raised her in
my arms, which I had kept free in order to precipitate her with me into the

l^i.

(;knii's and insanity.

4»«

eight

er in

the

waves At the moment I was to li'.ip, to be swallowed forever witii

lier, I f<It her piilhd head turn upon my shouhhr hke a dead weijj;ht, and the
body sink down upon my knees."

Pascal, trom birth till death, sullered from nervous troubles. When he
was only a year old he fell into a languor, during which he could not see water
without manifesting a great outburst of passion ; and, still more peculiar, ho
could not bear to see his father and mother near each other. In 1627 he had
paralysis from his waist down, so that he could not walk with crutches.
This condition continued three months. During his last hours he was taken
with terrible convulsions, in which he died. The autopsy showi'd peculiarities.
His cranium appears to have no suture, unless, perhaps, the lambdoid or
sagittal. A large (juantity of tin; brain substance was very much condensed.
Opposite the ventricles there were two impressions as of a hnger m wax. These
cavities were full of clotted and decayed blood, and there was, it is said, a
gangrenous condition of the dtini mater. Walter Scoii, during his infancy, had
precarious health, and before the age of two was paraly/ed in his right limb. He
had a stroke of apoplexy. He h<id this vision on hearing of the death of Byron:
Coming into the dining-room he saw before him the image of his dead friend.
On advancing toward it he recognized that the vision was due to drapery
extended over the screen. Some men of genius, who have observed themselves,
describe their inspiration as a gentle fever, during which their thoughts become
rapid and involuntary. Dante says :

" . . . r mi son un che quando.
Ainore spira, noto ed in quel modo
Che delta deiitro vo signiticando."

(I am so made that when love inspires me I attend, and according as it
speaks to me I speak.)

Voltaire, like Cicero, Demosthenes, Newton and Walter Scott, was born
under the saddest and most alarming conditions of health. His feebleness was
such that he could not be taken to church to be christened. During his first
years he manifested an extraordinary mind. In his old age he was like a bent
shadow. He had an attack of apoplexy at the age of eighty-three. His
autopsy showed a slight thickness of the bony walls of the cranium. In spite of
his advanced age, there was an enormous development of the encephalon.

Michael Angelo, while painting "The Last Judgment," fell from his
scaffold and received a painful injury in the leg. He shut himself up and would
not see anyone. Bacco Rontini, a celebrated physician, came by accident to see
him. He found all the doors closed. No one responding, he went to the cellar
and came upstairs. He found Michael Angelo in his room resolved to die. His
friend, the physician, would not leave him. He brought him out of the peculiar
frame of mind into which he had fallen. The elder brother of Richelfeu, the

402

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEKN.

Cardinal, was a sinj^ular man ; he committed suicide because of a rebuke from
his parents. The sister of Ricehlieu was insane. Richelieu himself had attacks
of insanity ; he would hgure himself as a horse, bvit afterwards would have no
recollection of it. Descartes, after a lon<^ retirement, was followed b)- an invisible
person, who urged him to pursue his investigations after the truth. Goethe was
sure of having perceived the image of himself coming to meet him. Goethe's
mother died of an apoplectic attack. Cromwell, when at school, had an hallucin-
ation in his room ; suddenly the curtains opened and a woman of gigantic stature
appeared to him, announcing his future greatness. In the days of his power he
liked to recount this vision. Cromwell had violent attacks of melancholic humor;
he spoke of his hypochondria. His entire moral life was moulded by a sickly
and neuropathical constitution, which he had at his birth. Rousseau was a type
of the melancholic temperament, assuming sometimes the symptoms of a veritable
pathetic insanity. He sought to realize his phantoms in the least susceptible
circumstances ; he saw everywhere enemies and conspirators (frequent in the
hrst stage of insanity). Once coming to his sailing vessel in England, he inter-
preted the unfavorable winds as a conspiracy against him ; then mounted an
elevation and began to harangue the people, although they did not understand a
word he said. In addition to his fixed ideas and deliriant convictions, Rousseau
suffered from attacks of acute delirium, a sort of maniacal excitation. He died
from an apoplectic attack. Jeanne d' Arc was a genius by her intrepid will ; she
had faith in her visions ; her faith rested upon the unmovable foundation of
numerous hallucinations having the force of moral and intellectual impulsion,
making her superior to those around her. Science can pronounce as to her in-
spirations, but its judgment does not diminish in the least the merit of her heroism.
Jeanne was of the peasant class and uneducated. According to her statement,
she first heard supernatural voices when she was thirteen years old. Mohammed
was epileptic. He persistently claimed to be a messenger of God, receiving his
first revelation at the age of forty-two. He lost his father in infancy and his
mother in childhood ; was a travelling merchant and married a wealthy widow,
fifteen years older than himself. His revelations began with visions in sleep.
He used to live alone in a cave. He had interviews with the aneel Gabriel.

Henry Heme died of a chronic disease of the spinal column. Lotzewas often
melancholic. Moliere suffered from convulsions ; delay or derangement could
throw him into a convulsion.

Mozart's musical talent was revealed at three years of age. Between four
and six he composed pieces with expertness. Mozart died at thirty-six, of
cerebral hydropsy. He had a presentiment of his approaching end. He was
subject to fainting fits before and during the composition of his famous
"Requiem." Mozart always thought that the unknown person which presented
itself to him was not an ordinary being, but surely had relations with another

r.ENirs AM) INSANITY.

403

four

world, and that lie was sent to him to announce his end. Cuvier died ot an
alTection of tlie nervous centres ; tlie autopsy showed a voluminous brain. He
lost all his children by a fever called "cerebral."

Condillac had frec|uent attacks of somnambulism ; he sometimes found his
work finished in the morninj^. Hossuet suffered from a disease from which he
once lost speech, knowledf^e, and even the faculty of understanding. Dumas
says, " Victor Hugo was dominated by the fixed idea to become a great poet,
and the greatest man of all countries and times, b'or a certain time the glory
of Napoleon haunted him." Choj-)in '^rdered -bv will — that he be buried in a
gala costume, white cravat, small shoes, and short trousers. He abandoned his
wife, whom he loved, because she offered another person a seat before she offered
it to him. (iiordano Bruno considered himself enlightened by a su[ierior light
sent from God, who Iznovvs the essence of things. Comte considered himself
the " Gri>at Priest " of humanity. Madame de Stael died in a state of delirium
which had lasted tor several days ; according to some authors, several months.
Tl . autopsy showed a large (juantity cf cerebral matter, and very thin cranium.
Moreau, of Tours, said she had a nervous habit of rolling continually bet /een
her fingers small strips of jiajier, an ample provision of which was kept on her
mantelpiece. She used opium immoderately. She had a singular idea during
her whole life, she was afraid of being cold in the lomb; she desired that she be
■enveloped in fur before burial.

linglishmen of letters who have become in<anc, or have had hallucinations
and peculiarities symptomatic of insanity, are Swift, Johnson, Cowper, Southey,
Shelley, Byron, Goldsmith, Lamb, and Foe. Swift was also cruel in conduct,
but he was hardly resjionsible, as his insanity was congenitive. His paternal
uncle lost speech and memory, and died insane. Swift was somewhat erratic
and wild as a university student. He suffered at times from giddiness, impaired
•eyesight, deafness, muscular twitchings, and paralysis of the muscles on the right
side of the mouth. He had a bad temper, was called " mad person," actually
feared insanity, saying once, on seeing a tree that had been struck by lightning,
'• I shall be like that tree ; I shall die at the top." Later in life he became a
violent maniac. The post-mortem examination showed a cerebral serous
effusion and softening of the cortex. There were a number of cranial anomalies.

Shelley, when young, was strange and fond of musing alone, and was called
'• mad Shelley." He suffered from somnambulism and bad dreams, and was
excitable and impetuous. These symptoms increased with age. At twenty-
two he constantly took laudanum for his nervous conditions. He had hallucina-
tions ; he saw a child rise from the sea and clasp his hands, a vision which it was
difficult to reason away. Much eccentricity existed in the immediate antecedents
•of Shelley. Charles Lamb was confined in an insane asylu n. Johnson was
.hypochondriacal and apprehended insanity, fancying himself seized with it. He

1 1

404

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

had convulsions, cramps, and a paralytic seizure depriving him of speech. He
had hallucinations of hearing. Carlyle considered Southey the most excitable
man of his acquaintance. Southey's mind failed, and he became an imbecile,
and died. A year before his death he was in a dreamy state, a little conscious
of his surroundings. Southey wrote verses before he was eight years of age.
His maternal uncle was an idiot, and died of apoplexy. The mother of Southey
had paralysis. Cowper was attacked with melancholia at twenty, which con-
tinued a year. At another time it returned with greater force. He himself tells
of his attempts at suicide ; he bought laudanum, keeping it in his pocket, when
later a feeling pressed him to carry it into execution, but soon another idea came'
to him, to go to France and enter a monastery. Then the suicidal impulse came
again, to throw himself into the river (an inhibitory feeling from taking the
laudanum), but he would have succeeded in hanging himself had not the thong
to which the rope was fastened broken. After suicidal ideas left him he relapsed
into religious melancholia, thinking he had committed the unpardonable sin.
He was confined in an asylum eighteen months. Keats was an extremely
emotional child, passing from laughter to tears. He was extremely passionate,
using laudanum to calm himself. Sometimes he fell into despondency. He
prophesied trul}' that he would never have any rest till he reached the grave.
The attacks of critics agitated him almost to insanity. His nervousness was
very susceptible, so that even " the glitter of the sun " or *' the sight of a flower "^
made his nature tremble.

Coleridge was a precocious child, self-absorbed, weakly, and morbid in
imagination ; this morbidity was the cause of his running away from home when
a child and from college when a student ; he enlisted as a soldier and again went
to Malta for no reason, permitting his family to depend upon charity. When,
thirty years of age, his physical suffering led him to use opium. Subsequently,
h(; had a lateral curvature of the spii e (De Ouince\ ) There were many morbid
symptoms in the family. Burns says: " My constitution and frame were ab cr-
igine blasted with a deep, incurable taint ot melancholia, which poisons my ex-
istence. Dickens died from effusion of blood upon the brain ; he was a sickly
child, suffering from violent spasms; when a young man he had a slight nervous-
ness which increased with his age, and finally was attacked with incipient
paralysis. George Eliot suffered from melancholic moods, and from her thirtieth
year had severe attacks of headache. As a child she was poor in health and ex-
tremely sensitive to terror in the night. She remained a " quivering fear "
throughout her whole life. De Quincey, the opium eater, took opium as a relief
from neuralgia and general nervous irritation. He was in bad health for a long-
time, dying at the age of seventy-four. Alfred de Mussett had attacks of syncope;
he died at forty-seven. George Sand described him in the forest of Fcntaine-
bleau in his neurotic terror, in his joy and despair, as manifesting a nervous

C.KNIUS AND INSAXriY.

405

;th

-IS

condition approaching delirium. He had a morbid cerebral sensibility, showing
itself in hallucinations. He had a suicidal inclination. He was a dissipated
gambler, passing from gaiety to depression. His keen disappointment in love in
Italy was accompanied by brain fever. For some time after he could not speak
of his chagrin without falling into syncope. He had an hallucination, and to
distinguish it from real things he asked his brother. Wellington was subject to
fainting fits ; he had epilepsy and died from an attack of ^''e disease. W^arren
Hastings was sickly during his whole life ; in his later years he suffered from
paralysis, giddiness and hallucinations of hearing. During the time of his par-
alysis he developed a taste for writing poetry.

Carlyle, the dyspeptic mart3T, showed extreme irritability. He says in his
diary : nerves all inflamed and torn up, body and mind in a hag-ridden condi-
tion. He suffered from a paralysis in his right hand, Carlylc's antecedents
were conspicuously of a nervous kind. Bach died from a stroke of apoplexy ;
one of his numerous children was an idiot. His family suffered from nervous
diseases. Handel was very irritable ; at the age of fifty he was stricken with
paralysis, which so affected his mind that he lived in retirement for a year.

Nisbet says: " Pathologically speaking, music is as fatal a gift to its pos-
sessor as the faculty for poetry or letters; the biographies of all the greatest
musicians being a miserable chronicle of the ravages of the nerves, disorder
extending, like the Mosaic curse, to the third and fourth generation." Newton,
in the last years of liis life, fell into a melancholia which deprived him of his
power of thought. Newton himself, m a letter to Locke, says that he passed
some months without having a consistency of mind. He was also subject to
vertigo. From the manner of manifestation and the results followinj^ from this
disease, Aloreau goes so far as to say that it permits a certain degree of diagno-
sis and may be called acute dementia.

The insanity of Tasso is probable from the fact that, like Socrates, he be-
heved he had a familiar genius which was pleased to talk with him and from
"whom he learned things never before heard of. Swift died insane. Chateau-
briand during his vouth had ideas of suicide, and attempted to kill himself. His
father died of apoplexy ; his brother had an eccentricity borderin<g on insanity ;
was given to all vices and died of paralysis. ''My chief fault," saysChateaubriand,
"is weariness, disgust of ever3'thing and perpetualdoubt." Tacitus had a son who
■was an idiot. Beethoven was naturally bizarre and exceedingly irritable. He
became deaf, and fell into a profound melancholia, in which he died. Alexan-
der the Great had a neurosis of the muscles of the neck, attacking him from
birth, and causing his head to incline constantly upon his shoulders. He died
at the age of thirty-two, having all the symptoms of acute delirium tremens;
his brother Arrchide was an idiot. His mother was a dissolute woman ; his
father was both dissolute and violent. DeBalzac (Honore) died of hypertrophy

4o6

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

of tlie heart, a disease tliat can predispose one to cclebral conjj^esti'on. The
eccentricity of his ideas is well known. Lamartine says he had peculiar notions
abouteverything; was in contradiction with the common-sense of "this low world."
His father was as peculiar. Lord Chatham was from a family of orij:^inal men-
tal disproportions, of peculiarities almost approaching halucination. Lord Chat-
ham did not do things as others, be was high strung and violent, indolent and
active, imperious and charming.

Pope was rickety. He had this hallucination : One day he seemed to see
an arm come out from the wall, and he inquired of his physician what this arm
could be. Lord Byron was scrofulous anil rachitic and clubfooted. Sometimes
he imagined that he was visited by a ghost ; this he attributed to the over
excitability of his brain. He was born in convulsions. Lord Dudley had the
conviction that Byron was insane. The Duke of Wellington died of an apoplectic
attack. Napoleon I. had a bent back; an involuntary movement of the right
shoulder, and at the same time another movement of the mouth from left to right,
When in anger, according to his own expression, he looked like a hurricane, and
felt a vibration in the calf of his left leg. Having a very delicate head, he did
not like new hats. He feared apoplexy. To a general in his room he said:
"See up there." The general did not respond. "What," said Napoleon, " do
you not discover it? It is before you, brilliant, becoming animated by degrees ;
it cried out that it would never abandon me; I see it on all great occasions; it says
to me to advance, and it is for me a constant sign of fortune."

Originally it is very common, both to men of genius and the insane ; but
in the latter case it is generally without purpose. Lombroso goes so far as to
make unconsciousness and spontaniety in genius resemble epileptic attacks.
Hagen makes irresistible impulse one of the characteristics of genius, as Schole
does in insanity. Mozart avowed that his musical inventions came involuntary,
like dreams, showing an unconsciousness and spontaniety which are also frequent
in insanity. Socrates says that poets create, not by reflection, but by natural
instinct. Voltaire said, in a letter to Diderot, that all manifestations of genius
are effects of instinct, and that all the philosophers of the world together could
not have given Lcs animaiix maladcs de la peste, which La Fontains composed
without knowing even what he did.

From this same work by Dr. MacDonald we select a 1. w passages bearing
on Insanity and Genius, most of which express the author's sentiments, some,
however, forming quotations from eminent authorities upon the subjects treated.

INSANITY.

Krafft-Ebing defines insanity, from the anatomical point of view, as a diffuse
disease of the brain, accompanied with nutritive, inflammatory, and degenerative
changes. The division between mental and brain diseases is purely a practical

GENIUS AND INSANIIY.

407

one and not strictly scientific. Mental diseases are a special class of cerebral
diseases and from a clinical standpoint are distinLjnished by psycho-functional
disturbances. Insanity is not only a disease of the brain but also a diseased
alteration of the personality. One difficulty in distins^uishinjr between sanity and
insanity is due to the fact that the manifestations of one can correspond exactly
to those of the other. The first symptoms are not g-enerally intellectual, but
emotional ; there is abnormal irritability. The fluctuating- line between sanity
and insanity, as frequently seen in public and private life, can, says Krafft-I^bing,
oscillate between the extremes of genius and mental disease. Such men show
peculiarities in thought, feeling and action ; they are called strange or foolisl.
because the great majority of men feel or act otherwise. So their combinations
of ideas are uncommon, new, striking and often interesting ; yet they are not
capable of making use of these new thoughts. Such individuals are not yet in-
sane, but still they are not quite right ; they form the passage over to insanity ;
they are on the threshold.

Clouston says there are a number of insane temperaments ranging from
inspired idiots to inspired geniuses ; that De Quincey, Cowper, '■ Uiner, Shelle)-,
Tasso, Lamb and Goldsmith may be reckoned as having had, in some degree,
the insane temperament. Some are original, but in the highest degree impracti-
cable and unwise. Another form of this temperament is seen in thought-
reading, clairvoyance and hypnotism.

Hammond says: "That the discrimination of the very highest flights of
genius from insanity is a difficult and at times an impossible undertaking, for
they exist in one and the same person." He mentions, as showing symptoms of
insanity, or at the close of life passing into fatuity, Tasso, Burns, Swift, Mozart,
Haydn, Walter Scott, 3lake, and Poe.

According- to Arndtour manner of knowing, feeling and willing is differently
developed, and shows itself in feeble or strong constitutions as nervousness,
weakness or insanity; or as gift, talent or genius. Every mental disease is a
reaction of the nervous system impaired in its nutrition, especially the nutrition
of the brain. Arndt's idea is that when a nervous condition appears occasionally
in parents and grandparents it sooner or later passes over into mental disease,
as seen in children of aged parents born late, or in children of parents with
talent or genius. In the first case (in children born late) this nervous condition
develops with the decrease of vital energy ; in the second case it comes from
the nature of the higher endowment or genius. This endowment or genius is
an expression of a highly organized nervous system, more particularly that of
the brain. Thus it is that all higher gifts, including genius, are very frequently
subject to all kinds of diseased conditions, peculiarities, idiocyncrasies and per-
versities. Arndt mentions, as examples among poets, Tasso, Lenau, Heinrich,
von Kleist, Holderin, Gutzkow ; among artists, Robert Schumann, Carl Blechen ;

■

io8

Gl.IMPSKS OF THE UNSEEN.

among scientists, Pascal, Frederic Sauvages, John Miiller, Robert von Meyer;
among statesmen and generals, Tiberius and the Uuke of Marlborough, A
large number of geniuses were the last of their kind, as Democritus, Socrates,
Plato, Aristotle, Citsar, Augustus, Galenus, Paracelsus, Newton, Shakespeare,
Leibnitz, Kant, Voltaire, Gustave Adolphus, PVederick the Great, Napoleon,
Linne, Cuvier, Byron, Alexander von Humboldt. The family of Schiller have
died out in their male members. This dying out of genius can only be explained
according to Arndt by the weakness of their organizations and the resulting
hypentsthesia. This also is an explanation of the fact that the brothers and
sisters of geniuses are often mediocre, and sometimes weak-minded.

♦ *♦•»••

Moreau of Tours holds that genius is the highest expression, the ne plus
ultra of intellectual activity, which is due to an over-excitation of the nervous
system, and in this sense is neurotic ; that disease of the nervous centers is a
hereditary condition, favoring the development of the intellectual faculties. He
maintains, on the basis of biographical facts, that among distinguished men one
finds the largest number of insane ; that the children of geniuses are inferior
even to those of averaije men, owing to convulsions and cerebral diseases in
infancy. Genius is always isolated, it is a summum of nature's energy, after
which her procreative forces are exhausted,

*******

Geniuses are inclined to misinterpret the acts of others and consider them-
selves persecuted. These are well-known tendencies of the insane. Boileau
and Chateaubriand could not hear a person praised, even their shoemaker,
without feeling a certain opposition. Schopenhaur became furious, refused to
pay a bill, in which his name was written with a double "p." Unhealthy vanity
is also common in the ambitions of monomaniacs,

« *****

Alienists hold in general that a large proportion of mental diseases are the
result of degeneracy, that is to say, they are the offspring of drunken, insane,
syphilitic and consumptive parents. The most frequent characteristics of mental
diseases are: apathy, weakness or loss of normal sense, impulsiveness, propensity
to doubt, verbosity or exaggerated acuteness, extreme vanity or eccentricity,
excessive preoccupation with one's own personality, mystical interpretations of
simple facts, hallucinations, abuse of symbols or special terms, sometimes sup-
pressing every other form of expression, and a general physical disproportion
through an excessive development of certain faculties, or by absence of others.
The reader is particularly requested to note these physical symptoms of insanity,
for almost all of them, as we have seen, are found in men of genius. If X were
substituted for insanity and Y for genius, so as to dispel preconceived notions,

C.ENIUS AND INSANITY.

409

and

nty

tal
ity
ity,
of

P-
on

rs.
2re

an iV'^artial observer would be very liable to say that the characteristics of X
and Y bring them under the same general category. Also some other physical
characteristics of the insane are almost as frequent in geniuses; they are:
asymmetry of face and head, irregularity in teeth, rachitism, face and head very
small or very large.

In saying that genius manifests the symptoms of a neurosis or psychosis,
we mean an excessive nervous or cerebral action. Many forms of insanity are
also manifestations of similar excessive action. Such action in one individual
can give rise to most wonderful, original, and brilliant ideas, and we call it
genius ; in another individual it produces also woi derful and original but highly
absurd thoughts, and we call it insanity. But it appears that the fundamental
cause in both genius and insanity is the same ; // is the excessive psychical or nerv-
ous energy.

Some of the flights of genius are most brilliant and fascinating, yet they are
none the less abnormal ; and when this abnormality reaches a certain degree it
can become pathological. Thus Don Quixote has wonderful ideas ; he is an ardent
soul with brilliant thoughts superior to the opinions of his contemporaries. Yet he
renders no account of real things ; he is in the air ; he takes his imagination for
realities, sees everything in his dream ; he is without critical spirit and has little
balance. Edgar Poe is full of phantasy, invention, original creations, extreme
notions, regardless of critical spirit. Poe was somewhat dipsomaniac. While
his writings are remarkable, yet they have elements similar to the wanderings of
the insane.

Some characteristics of genius are originality, egotism, vanity, indiscretion,
and lack of common sense; precocity, sterility, irritability, impetuosity, melan-
choly, and susceptibility to visions and dreams. These characteristics belong
also to the insane. If it be said that it is cruel to compare much that we con-
sider highest in the world with insanity, the reply is, that we might as well
object to classing man among the bipeds because vultures are bipeds. Any
analysis of genius that may show the closest relation to insanity cannot change
genius itself. Faust and Hamlet remain Faust and Hamlet, (ienius and great
talent may be considered those forms of abnormality most beneficial to socie*^y.

CIIAPTF.U XVII.

DIVINATKiN AND ASTKOLOGY.

THE obtai'nino; kno\vled,L;c of secret or future tilings by revelation or from
oracles or omens is known as divination. The origin of the word
divination points to the supposed divine influence communicated to the
soothsayer, as the equivalent Greek word Maiitikc refers to the utterances of
the spiiitually inspired or possessed seer or Mantis. Divination in Cicero's
time included not only all revelations of oracles but also a variety of diviner's
arts such as augury and astrology, on the ground that the signs were sent by
the gods. The Stoics argued that if divination was a real art there must be
gods who gave it to mankind. But to this it was replied that nature may give
us signs of future events without any god, and there may be gods who give no
indication of future events. Oracles were generally taken as revelations made
directlv b\- spiritual beings. Dreams were also regarded as revelations. The
two ma)- be looked \.\\)on, thexeiovG, -as natural divination. Artificial divination
on *^he other hand, embraced haruspication, prodigies, lightning, augury, astrology
and lots, and other forms of the art.

Artificial divination probably originated in an honest conviction that external
nature s\mpathized with and frequently indicated the condition and prospects
of mankind — a belief which was fostered by the accidental synchronism ot
natural phenomena with human catastrophies. When once this belief was
established the supposed manifestations were infinitely multiplied, and hence
arose numberless forms of imposture. Scarcely any possible event or appearance
escaped being forced into the service of augury. When once the charm was
uttered or the divination made, the flash of lightning, the thunder peal, the buzz
of a bee or the tiight of a bird would be accepted as an answer. A system
commenced in fanaticism ended in deceit. Hence Cato's famous saying that
it was strange how two augurs could meet without laughing in each other's laces.

The history of every^ nation and age bears testimony to the universal sway
of divination in one or another of its numberless forms or varieties. The
cu»'iosity of mankind has devised almost numberless methods of discovering the
arcana of nature and of the future. By a perversion and exaggeration of the
sublime faith that sees God everywhere, men have laid everything with won-
derful ingenuity under contribution, as a means of eliciting a divine answer: e. g.,
the portents of the sea and sky; the mysteries of the grave ; the wonder of sleep
and dreams ; the phenomena of victims sacrificed (in which the gods were
supposed to be specially^ interested); the motion and appearances of the animal

410

KF.V. C. \V. IIKNDKKSOX.

! 'l

/ 1

IHVINAIION ASM) AS IRC )!,()( ;V

4'.^

creation (Mi«^ht of birds); the pr()(lif,'es of inammate nature ; ominous voices ; and
a long list of magic arts. In the Occult Sciences, by Fatter, occur some thirty
odd forms of divination, described under words ending in mancy or compounds
o( inanteia, all branches of divination. N'ery jMobably, back of all this wide-
spread belief lies, in the luiinan heart, the conviction that in the absence of a
direct guiding Providence the Deity allows his will to be known to men, partly
by inspiring those who from purity of character or natural endowment are
capable of receiving the divine afflatus, and partly by giving perpetual indications
of the future which must be learned by experience and observation.

A writer in the "Encyclopa-dia Britannica" declares that the diviner's art has
all but perished; but this conclusion, flattering as it might be to the intelligence
of the age, can scarcely be accepted because of the mass of evidence as to the
widespread belief in different forms of divination at the present time.

The SatiinUiv Ri'vieiv o( ]u\y 4, 1863, declares : "Without doubt there are
a million of people who have some sort of confidence in Zadkiel ; certainly
there is ample encouragement to them in the countenance afforded Zadkiel by
the great and wise and learned of the land." The same writer declares that
"society believes in astrology." There is, it must be allowed, some good ground
for the preceding allegations since Zadkiel's Almanac — published now for over
forty consecutive years — sells more than one hundred and twenty thousand
copies per annum, and it is a publication which ignorant persons could not
understand, nor does it appeal to that class.

It seems to us wonderful at this day to contemplate the array of names of
great men who have believed in and been influenced by some one or other form
of divination or a belief in astrology. Goethe's autobiography begins thus :
" On the 2gth of August, 1749, at midday, as the clock struck 12, I came into
the world, at Frankfort-on-the-Maine. My horoscope was propitious ; tlv^ sun
stood in the sign of the virgin and had culminated for the day ; Juj^iter and
\'enus looked on him with a friendly eye and Mercury not adversely, while
Saturn and Mars kept themselves indifferent; the moon alone, just full, exerted
the power of her reflection, all the more as she had then reached her planetary
hour. She opposed herself, therefore, to my birth, which could not be accom-
plished till this hour was passed. These good aspects, which the astrologers
managed subsequently to reckon very auspicious for me, may have been the
causes of my preservation ; for, through the unskilfulness of the midwife, I
came into the world as dead, and only after various efforts was I enabled to see
the light."

Scarcely an extraordinary diameter in antiquity did not believe in astrology.
Hippocrates and Galen, Pythagoras, Democritus and Thales all believed in it.
It was accepted in China, Persia, Egypt, Greece and Rome, and Chaldea was
the centre of its power. /Eschylus, Virgil, Horace, Homer, in loftiest poetical

4»4

ciiMrsi'S oi- 11 1 1: inskkn

strains, praised it. K'of^'cr liaioii ; Uuns Scotus ; Baron Xapicr, thf invi-iitor
ol lo^^aritlims ; Tyclio Ikalu' ; I'Vancis Hacoii ; l'lainst«'acl, first Astronoim-r
l^oyal ; Sir \'A\;\s Asliinolc, foutuier of the AshnioU'an Museum, were all believers
in astiolof^y. Chaucer was a believer and wrote a treatise on the astrolabe.
John Dryden, skilled in the theory, computed the nativities of his children, and
foretold certain severe arciilents to his son Charii's. ()ur lanj^uage and literature
bear stron<^ traces of this wide-spread belief in aslrolo^^y. Aii!^iir, augury ^
auspices, tnlisiiinii, jovial, sdtiu'iiiiif, menu rial, disaster, tll-r.tai'rcd, are all derived
from the belief, at one time current, in the jiowtn of the stars to alfect human
destiny. Sliakespeare allows this i)elief to mould many of his beautiful lines;

Comets,
Braiulisl

lies and states,
your crystal tresses in the sky."

When Romeo and Juliet are married the jirayer is :

" So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
That after hours with sorrow chide iis not."

Byron's lines are often (|uoted by astrolo^^^ers :

" Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven,
If in your brij,'ht leaves we woiiUI read the fate
Of men and empires."

And Longfellow says ;

" O child ! a new born deni;{en

Of life's ^reat city ! On thy head
The f,'lory of the morn is shed,
Like a celestial benison."

4|» « 4» * » •

" Hy what astrolojijy of fear or hope,
Dare I to cast thy horoscope?"

Divination very early became an engine of political power, and its support
came in a large measure from those who were indebted to its power for political
influence. It early fell into the hands of a priestly class (Gen. xli. : 8; Isa.
xlvii. : 13; Jer. v. : 31) who made it subservient to their own purposes. Thus
in Persia, Chardin says that the astrologers would make even the Shah rise at
midnight and travel in the worst weather in obedience to their suggestions.
While Chaldea was the centre of astrology, Egypt, mother of the arts and
sciences, if not the mother of divination, very early gave it encouragement and
support. At the time of the Exodus, it is well known, there were magicians in
that country whose knowledge of the arcana of nature and dexterity in the art
of divination, enabled them, in a limited degree, to equal the miracles of Moses.
By what power or skill they changed rods into serpents, water into blood, is an
enfjuiry that has puzzled many men of learning and piety.

|)I\ I.\.\l I(»N AM) ASIKOI.OCiY.

415

")ort
cal
sa.
tius

>ns.

in
art
es.
an

It is pr<)i)aljle that all the allusions to divination in the writinj^s of Moses
wore such as he and the Israelites had seen prai;tise(l in l.^vpl. Ilcrc the
Isra(;lites ac(|uire(l that stronj^ projiensily to tlivination which followed thcin not
only to Palestine but also into the captivity. llu; ahorij^ines of Canaan and
their Philistine ncif^hbors were much f^iven to practices of this knul and inter-
course with these jiroved a fi;reat snare to Israel. In Chaldci divination, how-
ever, reached its zenith, and the captivity in liabylon spread more widely than
ever a stronj,' belief in this superstition. After the return from the captivity, en-
joyinj^ no longer the gift of proplu'cy or access to the sacred oracles, they gradu-
ally a'bandoned themselves to all the prevailing forms of divination.

Superstition often goes hand in hand with infidelity, and accordingly we find
in that general scepticism which prevailed throughout the Roiiian l'"m|iire in the
time when our Lord appeared, imposture was rampant. Hence the lucrative
trades of such men as Simon Magus (Acts viii.: 9), Har-Jesus (Acts xiii.: (), S),
the slave with the spirit of Python (.\cts xvi.: 16), the vagabond Jews, csoicists
as well as the notorious dealers in magical writings and the jugglers at Mphesus
These flagrant impostures had b(;come very numerous, as Josephus testities.

Against every species and degree of divination the sternest denunciations ot
the Mosaic law were directed, as tending to foster a love for unlawful knowledge
and a Jirying into the future. The frequent denunciation of divination in the
prophets seems to indicate that this was a sin to which Israel was especially
prone. Hut (jod supplied his people with substitutes therefor which should
have rendered it superfluous and would have left them in no doubt as to his will
in circumstances of danger, had they continued faithful. It was t)nly when they
were unfaithful that this revelation was withdrawn (i Sam. xxviii.: 6 ; 2 Sam. ii.:
I ; v.: 23, etc.). According to the Rabbis the Urim and Thummim lasted till
the Temple ; the spirit of prophecy until Malachi ; and the Bath-kol as tlie
sole means of guidance from that time downwards.

How far Moses and the Prophets believed in the reality of necromancy, etc.,
as distinguished from various forms of imposture, is an unsettled (|uestion.
Even if they did so believe we are not constrained to believe the same. Yet
Bacon, Bishop Hall, Baxter, Sir Thos. Browne, Lavator, Glanville, Henry
More and other eminent men held such an opinion. Another c[uestion ott
discussed is whether the ancient tribe of diviners merely pretended to the powers
they exercised or were assisted by demoniacal agency. Nearly all the church
fathers, appealing to the language of Scripture, hold to demoniacal agency.
They pointed to the achievements of Jannes and Jambres, to the divine law
which prohibited the use of such agency and to the fact that mere pretensions
on the part of these diviners in the interpretation of dreams and the various
arts of divination is not sufficient to account for the faith in divination extend-
ing through so many centuries. Others hold that divination was simply impos-

4i6

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

ture and that only, and the Scriptures represent it as vain and powerless and in-
capable of doing anything beyond the ordinary powers of nature. (Isa. xlvii.:
II, 13; xliv.: 25 ; Jer. xiv.: 14; Jonah ii.: 8).

Among the forms of divination in frequent use among the Israelites, and
which seem to have had the divine sanction or, at least, to have been permitted^
we may mention :

1. Cleromancy, or divination by lot. This was used by the Hebrews in
circumstances of the greatest importance, and with due solemnity and religious
preparation. The land was divided by lot. Achan's sin was detected by lot.
Saul was appointed king by lot. Matthias was chosen to the vacant apostleship
by lot, and invocation was made for divine guidance of the lot (Prov. xvi.: 33 ;
xviii.: 18 ; i Sam. x. : 20, 21 ; Acts i.: 26 ; Josh, vii.: 16, 19).

2. Oneiromancy, or interpretation of dreams. The interpretation of
Pharaoh's dream by the divinely gifted Joseph (Gen. xli.: 25-32), and the recal-
ling and interpretation of those of Nebuchadnezzar (Dan. ii.: 27 ; and again
iv.: 19-28) are prominent cases in point. Dreams and visions are expressly
mentioned as correlative revelations sanctioned by God (Num. xii.: 6).

3. The Urim and Thummim, which seems to have had the same relation
in true divination that the Teraphim had in the idolatrous system (Num.
XX vii.: 27).

4. Phonomancy, i.e. direct vocal communication (by means of the Bath-Kol,
daughter of the voice) which God vouchsafed especially to Moses (Deut. xxxiv.:
10.) There were various concomitanits of revelation, such as the rod-serpent,
the leprous hand, the burning bush, the plagues and the cloud, but in most
instances the revelation was without these.

5. The Oracles; first, of the Ark of the testimony (Exodus xxv.: 22);
secondly, of the Tabernacles of the Congregation (Exodus xxix.: 42). The
word " oracles " is applied in the New Testament to the Scriptures (Acts vii.: 38).

6. The Angelic Voice (Gen. xxii.: 15; Judges xiii.: 3).

7. The Prophetic Institution. This was the most illustrious and perfect
means of divination, and was often accompanied by symbolic action. Under
the head of prophecy we must, of course, include what the Jews call the inspira-
tion of the Holy Spir*'.

We come now to notice certain forms of divination expressly forbidden by
the Scripture^ (Deut. xviii.: 10-12).

(a) " Divming divinations." This seems to be a general description of
various forms of the art.

(b) " Observer of times." This seems to be the assigning certain times to
things, and distinguishing by astrology, or otherwise, lucky from unlucky days,
and even months from months, and years from years (Job iii.: 5). The Romans
and Greeks distinguished days in this way, some being caiiciidi, and others atri.

DIVINATION AND AS'IROI.OGY.

4«7

(c) Enchantments — probably divination by means of cups, or as others
think by the flight of birds, or as still others imagine by serpents.

(d) Magic, a kind of divination which drew together noxious creatures for
purposes of sorcery.

(e) Consulting with familiar spirits. Most writers treat this kind of divin-
ation as necromancy, while some think the original verb refers to ventrilociuism.

(/■) "Seeking unto the dead," — which the Vulgate renders qui qiiaent a mar-
luis vcritatem, who seek the truth from the dead.

In addition there are in Scripture a large number of cases of divination
mentioned without any special approbation or condemnation.

All these forms of divination and many others are to be found among the
different nations of Europe and Asia during their earlier history, and in heathen
lands to-day numberless varieties of this art prevail.

Among some of the most important and prevalent of these modes of divin-
ation we may mention : — i. The planting of trees at the birth of children which
shall by flourishing or withering, prophesy the health or sickness of the children.

2. Casting of lots — common not only among the (ireeks and Romans, but
even in modern times and among religious people (the Moravians having in
recent times resorted to religious lots to determine important questions such as
the choice of wives).

3. Cartomancy or fortune telling by means of cards, still too common even
in Christian lands.

4. Scapulimancy or the Tatar mode, of divining by the cracks and lines of
the shoulder blade, forinerly known in Itngland as " reading the speal-ijone."
Palmistry of modern tiir.es may be taken as a cognate form of divination.

5. Use of divining rod for finding hidden springs of water, a vein of ore or
hidden treasure.

6. Interpretation of dreams, especially such interpretation as regards all
objects dreamed about as symbolic.

7. Astrology — by which the stars rising at a child's birtn ,ire made in a
horoscope to typify its destiny, and the planets and signs of the Zodiac become;
'' influences " for good or ill in the child's life. Thus Mars has to do with
soldiers, Venus with lovers, Mercury with prattlers, etc. The Solar man is
grand and generous, the Lunar man unsteadfast and inclined to change his
dwelling, the sign Leo presides over places where wild beasts abound, but Aries
over pastures. In the courts of Asiatic monarchs the state astrologer still holds
the place that his predecessors held in the ancient (Mnpires, but it is quite evi-
dent that the increasing civilization and enlightenment of this century has largely
weakened his power over the human mintl.

As a portion of the educated public is still in some degree interested in, and
devoted to, astrology, a more particular description of this method ot divination

4i8

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSKEN.

may not be out of place. According to Zadkiel's "Grammar of Astrology,"
there are four branches of the art quite distinct from each other: Nativities,
mundane astrology, atmospheric astrology, and horary astrology. The first com-
prises "the art of foreseeing from the figuring of the heavens at the moment of
birth the future fate and character of the individuals." Mundane astrology is *' the
art of foreseeing by the position of the heavenly bodies at certain periods, the
circumstances of nations, such as wars, pestilences, etc." Atmospheric astrology
he defines as " the art of foreseeing, by the position of the planets at the period
of the sun and moon being in mutual aspect, and some other circumstances, the
quality of the weather at any required time or place."

Horary astrology is " the art of foreseeing by the position of the heavens at
any period when an individual may be anxious about the matter, the result of
any business or circumstance whatever." Some contend that the heavens merely
exhibit signs of events, so that when these are properly interpreted the future
can be foretold, and others hold that they are the courses of the events. The
calculations are made by means of the sun, moon and planets, the signs of the
Zodiac, and the various aspects and relations of the planets. To work the
problems a figure of the heavens is drawn. In calculating a nativity the
horoscope must be cast for the instant a child is born and the figure show
exactly the state of the heavens at that instant as viewed from the place of birth ;
the signs of the Zodiac and the planets, with their latitudes, declinations, etc.,
have to be determined, and the figure, when completed, must exhibit all these.

The signs of the Zodiac affect, it is said, not only nations but individuals —
Aries, for example, produces a spare and strong body ; of stature, rather above
the average ; face, long ; eyebrows, bushy ; neck, long, etc. Whilst Taurus
gives a middle stature, thick, well-set body, broad forehead, full face and pnmi-
inent eyes, neck and lips thick, nose and mouth wide. Aries governs the head
and face of man, Gemini govern^ the arms and shoulders.

The planets are divided into malefics, such as Mars, Saturn, and Uranus ;
and the bene/ics, such as Jupiter and Venus. A planet is afflicted whenever the
malefics are in certain relations to it. In order to have great prosperity both
the sun and the moon must be free from affliction. If the sun is in good aspect
with Mars the child born will be very fortunate in war, surgery, and chemistry.
But if it is afflicted by Saturn he is liable to consumption or paralysis ; if by
Mars, he will be cruel and bloodthirsty. Certain eminent fixed stars exert great
influence, such as Aldeboran, Hercules, and Regulus.

To prove the truth of astrology an appeal is made to English history for
the past six hundred years. Aries is the principal sign affecting England.
Saturn is a malefic planet and astrologers assign various coincidences of mis-
fortune to England when Saturn was in Aries. Among others mentioned we note:
In 1290 a desperate war with the Scots in which Edward I. and the English

DIVINATION AND ASTROLOGY.

419

for
id.
lis-
te:
ish

army were defeated at Roslin ; in 1378 the rebellion of Wat Tyler; in 1555,
Queen Mary's time, 277 persons burned at the stake; in 1643 civil war between
Charles I. and his parliament. On the other hand Jupiter, a benefic, was in
Aries in 896 when Alfred beat the Danes ; also in 12 15 when King John signed
the Magna Charta, and in 1856 when peace was signed between the allies, and
the Crimean war was ended ; and in 1868 which was a time of great national
prosperity.

Gemini rules the United States and it is pointed out by astrologers that the
planet Uranus passed through Gemini when the American colonies rebelled ;
and again in 1859-1866 when the American civil war was raging.

Again it is claimed by astrologers that mental disease is likely to occur
when Mars and Saturn are, at birth, in conjunction, quadrature or opposition
with Mercury and the moon, but Mercury more particularly. Under this cate.
gory it is pointed out that nine great princes notoriously insane or deficient in
intellect were born when Mercury or the moon or both were afflicted by Mars,
Saturn or Uranus. These are: Paul, of Russia; George III., of England!
Gustavus IV., of Sweden; Ferdinand II., of Austria; Maria, of Portugal;
Charlotte, Empress of Mexico; Charles II., of Spain; Murad V., of Turkey;
and Constantine, of Russia. Another singular coincidence is this: Six persons
of genius, born under the same configuration — Gerard de Nerval ; Alfred Rethel,
the painter of " Der Tod als Freund "; Agnes Bury, the actress; Julien; Paul
Morphy, the chess player ; and Pugin — became insane.

Again some predictions and their fulfilment appear remarkable as coin-
cidences. The aspect of the heavens at the birth of Queen Victoria and the
events of her career harmonize, it is claimed, with the teachings of astrology.
It is said that Lilly predicted, in 165 1, the Great Plague which occurred in
London in 1665. By means of an astrological hieroglyphic Lilly also predicted,
in 1651, the Great Fire which took place in London, September 3rd, 1666. Dr.
Buckley in his able work, " Faith Healing, Christian Science and Kindred
Phenomena," in a chapter on astrology from which we have gachered many of
the facts here given, points out an extraordinary coincidence regarding America.
It is this: In Zadkiel's Almanac for 1886 occurs the following prediction :

*' Shocks of earthquake in the 77th degree of west longitude may be looked
for. Great thunder storms and wav s of intense heat will pass over the States.
There will be great excitement in America."

Terrific shocks of earthquake visited Charleston, S.C. ; Washington;
Richmond; Augusta; Raleigh on the night of the 31st of August, many lives
being lost. This took place in longitude 76 to 78 degrees west. Waves of
intense heat passed over the States in July and August, the thermometer rising
in St. Louis to 104 degrees in the shade.

420

(II.IMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

THE EXPLANATION OF THE COINCIDENCES.

Striking as some of the coincidences mentioned may seem, and numerous as
the examples and alleged proofs are, it will be found that they afford no real
foundation for belief in astrology. It is not necessary to deny that certain pre-
dictions have been fulfilled, but only to consider the vastly greater number of
unfulfilled predictions. The fact that a particular prediction was made before a
particular event occurred by no means proves either that the event gave rise to
the prediction, or that the prediction produced the event or was in any necess-
ary way associated with it. Chance alone will account for a vast number of
strange coincidences of events that might well seem on first sight to have some
connection in the chain of causation. Dr. Buckley points out in the work above
alluded to, a large number of coincidences in names, dates, events, among which
we may mention :

Danie! Webster married Catheri" : Le Roy. Not very long ago in Boston,
a suit was noticed, the parties to which were Daniel Webster and Catherine
Le Roy. The first Unitarian Church in Boston was attended for more than
forty years by a gentleman recently deceased. From that pulpit he heard dis-
courses by Doctors Furness, Bellows, Sparks and Greenwood. Two were
settled pastors, the others, eminent men who appeared on various occasions. In
Guilford, Conn., till within a few years, the Second Congregational Church had
had but three pastors in its entire history — Root, Wood and Chipman This
society resulted from a disturbance in the First Church, and when Mr. Root was
about being installed, one of the members of the First Church with equal bitter-
ness and wit, suggested a text : '* And I saw the wicked taking root." Not long
since the City of New York had attention drawn to the names of four noted
criminals whose names contradicted their character : Charles Peace, murderer ;
Angel, defaulting cashier; John Hope, bank robber; and Rev. John Love,
criminal. On the day that the Hon. John P. Hale died, the schooner John P.
Hale ran ashore on a reef called Norman's Woe. Since the time of William the
Conqueror, thirty-three sovereigns have ascended the English throne — each
month v/itnessing one or more coronations except May, which has had none.
Although Friday is generally looked upon as an unlucky day, the Norfolk
Beacon many years ago gave a list of fortunate events happening in early Ameri-
can history on Friday :

"On Friday, Aug.3rd, 1492, Christopher Columbus sailed on his great voyage.
On Friday, October 12th, 1492, he first discovered land. On Friday, Jan. 4th,
1493, he sailed on his return to Spain, which, if he had not reached in safety,
the happy result would never have been known which led to the settlement of
this vast continent. On Friday, March 15th, 1493, he arrived at Palos in s' ""y.
On Friday, November 22nd, 1493, he arrived at Hispaniola, on his second
voyage to America. On Friday, June 13th, 1494, he, though unknown to him-

i ) I V I X ATIOiN AN D AS 1 RO 1 ,0( ". Y.

4a I

self, discovered the continent of Aineiica. On Friday, March 5th, 1496, Henry
VIII. of England, <^ave to Joiin Cabot his commission, which led to the discovery
of North America. This is the first American State paper in England. On
Friday, Sept. 7th, 1565, Melandez founded St. Augustine, the oldest town in
the United States. On Friday, Nov. loth, 1620, the Mayflower made the
harbor of Provincetown, and on the same day was signed that august compact,
the forerunner of our present glorious constitution. On Friday, Dec. 22nd,
1620, the Pilgrims made their final landing at Plymouth Rock. On Friday,
Feb. 22nd, 1732, George Washington, the father of American freedom, was born.
On Friday, June 16th, Bunker Hill was seized and fortified. On Friday,
October 7th, 1777, the surrender of Saratoga was made, which had such power
and influence m inducing France to declare for our cause. On Friday, Septem-
ber 22nd, 1780, the treason of Arnold was laid bare, which saved us from
destruction. On Friday, October 19th, 1781, the surrender of Yorktown, the
crowning glory of the American arms, occurred. On Friday, June 7th, 1776, the
motion in Congress was made by John Adams, seconded by Richard Henry Lee,
that tiie United Colonies were, and of right ought to be, free and independent.
Thus, by numerous examples, we see that however it may be with foreign
nations, Americans never need dread to begin on Friday any undertaking, how-
ever momentous it mav be."

Instances are on record of clergymen stricken with paralysis in the pulpit
whose last words or last texts were singularly appropriate to their tragic ending.
in a certain church near New York, nearly hfty years ago, the pastor stood in
the pulpit reading the stanza :

" Well, the deli^'htful day will come

When my dear Lord shall take me home,
And I shall see His face."

At this point he was stricken with paralysis, and soon died. Thirty-three
years after another pastor standing in the same pulpit and reading the same
stanza was similarl)- smitten and removed to die. Now let the advocates and
apologists of astrology compute if they can the chances in ordinary life for the
occurrence of any such coincidence. Yet upon coincidences no more likely to
happen by chance than these above mentioned they ask us to accept astrology
as a science.

It is impossible to estimate the precise order in which the so-called " laws
of chance" may operate. We may, it is true, determine theoretically that there
is one chance in a thousand of a certain card bemg drawn from a bag, hut tins
by no means gives us any indication as to whether that card may be the first,
the five hundredth, or the thousandth in the drawing. Suppose that there are
2,000 drawings, the particular card may be the last in the hrst thousand and the
hrst in the second, and so we may have two concurrent drawings of this card as

422

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

the only appearances in 2,000. So though there may be only one chance in a
million that an astrologer predicting an earthquake in a given country at a given
time may be correct. That coincidence may happen and in the vast multiplicity
of human experiences these strange coincidences should not surprise us. So in
the multitude of prophecies (a prophecy and its fulfilment) it should not be re
garded in the relation of cause and effect. Mr. Proctor's work, " Chance and
Luck," quotes from Steinmetz this fact :

In 1813, a Mr.'Ogden wagered one thousand guineas to one that seven
could not be thrown with a pair of dice ten successive times. The wager was
accepted (though it was egregiously unfair); and, strange to say, his opponent
threw seven nine times running. At this point, Mr. Ogden offered four hundred
and seventy guineas to be off the bet. But his opponent declined, though the
price offered was far beyond the real value of his chance. He cast yet once more
and threw nine, so that Mr. Ogden won his guinea.

Commenting on this, Mr. Proctor says :

Now here we have an instance of a most remarkable series of throws, the
like of which has never been recorded before or since. Before they had been
made it might have been asserted that the throwing of nine successive sevens
with a pair of dice was a circumstance which chance would never brmg about ;
for experience was as much against such an event as it would seem to be against
the turning up of a certain number ten successive times at roulette. Yet experi-
ence now shows tha»: the thing is possible, and if we are to limit the action of
chance we must assert that the throwing of seven, ten times in succession, is
an event which will never happen.

THE LETTER M AND THE NAPOLEONS.

The following article was found by Dr. Buckley in an Italian newspaper
while Louis Napoleon was in prison at Wilhelmshohe. It illustrates the possi-
bilities of chance and incidentally accounts for the coincidences alleged by astrolo-
gers as proofs of their art.

MarbcEuf was the first to recognize the genius of Napoleon at the Ecole
Militaire, Marengo was the greatest battle gained by Bonaparte, and Melas
opened to him the way into Italy. Mortier was one of his first generals, Mcreau
betrayed him, and Murat was the first martyr in his cause. Marie Louise par-
took of his highest destinies, Moscow was the abyss in which he was engulfed.
Metternich conquered him on the field of diplomacy. Six marshals (Masseria,
Mortier, Marmont, Macdonald, Murat, Moncey) and twenty-six of his generals
of divisions hac names beginning with the letter M. Murat, Duke of Bassano,
was the counsellor in whom he placed the greatest confidence ; his first great
battle was that of Montenotte, his last that of Mont-Saint-Jean. He gained the
battles of Moscow, Montmirail, and Montereau. Then came the assault of

DIVINATION AND ASIROLOGY.

423

Montmartre. Milan was the first enemy's capital and Moscow the last in wiiich
he entered. He lost Egypt through the blunders of Menou, and employed
Miollis to make Pius VII. prisoner. Malet conspired against him ; afterward
Marmont. His mmisters were Maret, Montalivet, and MoUien. His first
chamberlain was Montesquieu, his last sojourn Malmaison. He gave himself
up to Captain Maitland. He had for his companion at St. Helena Monthofm,
and for his valet Marchand.

If we examine the history of his nephew Napoleon HI. we find that the
same letter has no less influence, and we are assured that the captive of Wil-
helmshohe attaches still more importance to its mysterious influence than did
iiis uncle. The Empress, his wife, is a Countess Montijo ; his greatest friend
was Morny ; the taking of the Malakoff and of the Mamelouvert the principal
exploits of the Crimean war, — exploits due chiefly to the French. His plan in
the Italian war campaign was to give the first battle at Marengo, but this was
not fought until after the engagement of Montebello at Magenta. McMahon
received for the important services rendered by him in the battle the title of
Duke of Magenta, as Pelissier received for a similar service that of Duke of
Malakoff. Napoleon HI. now made his entry into Milan and repulsed the
Austrians at Melegnano.

After 1866 the letter M seems to have become for him a presage of misfor-
tune. We pass over Mexico and Maximilian, and take the present war, in
which he had founded a vain hope > three M's — Marshal McMahon, Montau-
ban, and Mitrailleuse. Mayence was to have been the base of operations for
the French army, but, repulsed on the Moselle, his fate was decided upon the
Meuse at Sedan. Finally we have to mention the fall of Metz. All these
disasters are due to another M, the enemy of Napoleon — and this is a capital M
— Moltke.

Now a little attention to logical principles in drawing conclusions from coin-
cidences would prevent hasty deduction and endorsation of arts that should be
looked upon as relics of the unscientific ages. If for example two phenomena
always coincide they may be taken as either cause a' d effect or common effects
of one cause. But if they coincide rarely or occasionally we cannot conclude
logically that the one is related to the other as cause is to effect. So we argue
the striking coincidences between a series of events happening with a particular
conjunction of the planets, and prosperous or adverse results which are supposed
to result therefrom are but chance occurrences out of untold combinations of
events. So also the chance occurrence of agreement between a prediction of
astrology and a fact in history is no logical basis for a conclusion as to the truth
of astrology. Post hoc ergo proplev hoc, " after this, therefore on account of this,"
is a recognized form of fallacy and one frequently pressed into service as support
to various forms of divination.

CIIAl'TIlK XVIII.

SOMNAMlill.l^M.

I 11

SOME of the most wonderful psychical phcnoiiiciia are brouijlit to view in that
kind of wakini; sleep—if we may l)e allowed the exjiression — known as
Somnambulism. Ilere is a realm of mental activity close on the border-
land between sleepinj^ and wakinjj; in which many weird and mystical phenomena
are disclosed, and most intricate and perplexing; problems are presented for
solution. While some of the powers ot the mind are eclipsed, others seem
hei,!j;htened in their activities and surpass all their ordinary exercise in the
wakin<; state-. The somnambule is a sleeper dreaminj; and at the same time
acting his dream. The condition of somnambulism is often induced by a com-
paratively trivial cause. It occurs frecpiently durinjjj sleep in the day time. It is
often brou<;ht on by an undi_«;ested meal, a linj^erinj; mental excitement, a dis-
turbance of slumber from without. Physioloj^ists tell us that in the somnambulistic
condition that certain end orijjans and the correspondinii; sensory-motor centres
are partially awakened. Psycholos^ists tell us this state is marked by a greater
degree of coherence and activity in the sub-consciousness as compared with the
waking state. Sleep talking is at hrst incoherent, but it may become in time, if
cultivated, a gift of intelligent conversation. The writer has more than once
been able to carry on something of a connected conversation with persons who were
asleep. There is no doubt that the ability to converse in ordinary sleeji and m
somnambulism is one that is cajxible of development. CJne of the students of
IClmira College, a remarkably talented }'oung lady, who, when awake was un-
usually reticent and discreet, when dreaming could be skilfullv led on by her
room-mate to reveal all the occurrences o( the day. Carpenter tells us of a \-oung
lad)' who, when in school, often talked in sleep, her ideas always running on the
events (;f the previous da\-. if encouraged by leading (lueslicMis, she would give
a coherent account of thesi- occurrences, provi(h^d the cjueries were pertinent ;
questions not pertinent were not answered, and to all other ordinary sounds she
was (]uite in.-ensible.

Somnainhuiism begins with a certain locom(/ti\e res le^sness and in a more
dex'cloped torni becomes an ambulatory life of Strang: adventures, in which
certain end org.ins are active and certain brain ganglia aleri, the muscular s\s-
teni being meanwhile under control. Somnambulists wandcv" through houses,
climb roots, stray abroad over the countr)' and often perform actions with
ajiparent safety wl;ich ccnild not be performed by tliem in waking moments.

If the environment o[ the somnambulist is favorable to the development of

i-.'i

Till-, \r(,i>r S( i:\!; \r iiii-: ckrcii ixion.

SOMNAMIH l,ISM.

»J7

this habit, there is a sort of dual personality ^'cnerated. A secondary sleep
character is developed, with a new personality so far as thoufj;ht, feeling and
memory are concerned. All occurrences durin<; former attacks f somnambulism
are retained and woven into a perfect chain memory by the various jieriods of
subconscious sleep life. Moreover, the somnambule holds in memory also the*
entire storehouse of v akinji; ex[)eriences, so that he is richer in memory during
t.ie period of somnambulism than when wakinj^. Someii...cs he possesses the
sense of si<j;ht — is "visual," but hears not — or he is "audile," that is, hears but
sees not, or is " tactile," that is, has hypersensitive touch, and dispenses with
both eyes and ears.

In the sleep-wakinj; condition there is a non-e<i;o as well as an ego, and the
somnambulist may even perceive that lie is another person than himself. He
may even refer to his waking self as a third person. The thoughts centre seems
shifted and a dual consciousness inaugurated.

Some mysterious powers — not possessed in the waking uioments — manifest
themselves in this condition and are at once the puzzle and the despair of psy-
chologists and scientists. There is often a muscular activity (juite beyond the
ordinary waking condition, a capability of most noteworthy feats of skill and
daring, sight with closed eyes, and a sense of touch entirely hypersensitive.
Imagination is intensely vivid and the most astonishing creatioi.s of dreams may
become actual performances. A young, ignorant girl may begin to preach, o^
recite poems with excellent pronunciation, rhetoric and elocution. The most
intricate problems may be solved, the most difficult music performed. Thought
transference and clairvoyance are also frequently manifested in this condition.

Somnambules if disturbed at all during their dream-acting must be gently
aroused. A violent shock might prove fatal. In general the trance runs into
ordinary sleep and on waking the patient remembers the sleep-acting only as a
fading dream, if he remembers it at all. The somnambulist always wakes, how-
ever, wearied and exhausted, the action in sleep being much more exhaustive
than mere dreaming.

Dr. Charles Van Norden contends in his work entitled •' The Psychic
Factor," that somnambuli'.m presents, in reality, no new problems for solution —
the old problems of dreaming and abnormal powers of the waking state
being but reproduced, perhaps, with greater clearness and regularity in the
somnambi^listic stage. " The creative imaginings of somnambulism are no more
wonderful than the splendid visions, correct impersonations, and elevated poems,
and dramas of dreaming ; only they are spoken and acted as well as conceived.
The marvellous hypersensitiveness of the end organs is found occasionally in the
waking condition of certain exceptionally gifted persons, whilst its thought trans-
ference and lucidity only multiply in number, intensity, and quality, experiences
which many have been when in full possession of all their faculties. Mollie Fancher,

43ii

GLIMF'SF.S OK IHK I'NSKKN.

of Hro()kI\ n, N.Y., who for ov(>r thirty yirs h.is hccn conrmcd to her bed as an
iiiv.ihd, blind, helpless, and with her hody twisted into most unnatural shape,
her oiu! arm hein;,' rifj;id above her he.id, so that to brin^her hands toj^ether they
had to be both above her head, was for nine years in a state of trance. In this
ct)ndition she manifested extraordinary powers of mind, and often possesstjd
clairvoyant power. She has shown durinj; her loni; illness the most wonderful
skill in fancy work and desi<;ninfj. She fashions in wax beautiful desij^n.s — win-
dows filled with (lowers and vines, and butterflies, boU(|uets, crosses and anchors.
Once, when asked how slu; was able to do all this, she answered : " O, I see the
heaves and then make others like them." All this was done with one hand held
ri|;idl)' back of the head.

She was accustomed to hold the work in one hand and ply the needle with
the other. Mven if she hatl eyesij^ht, which physicians declare wa.. fully gone,
it would have Ikhmi impossible for lur to see tlu; work in the position in whicii
she was compelled to hold it. She works mono<;rams ol her own fancy into the
silk handkerch.iefs of her {gentlemen friends, and puts butterflies, and leaves and
birds upon them with rare taste and skill. One of the most beautiful of her wax
work productions, an exfjuisite and delicate bower of roses and creepers, adorns
the parlor of Frof. West's Brooklyn lleij^hts Seminary, 12O Montague Stre(;t.
She has declared that at times she saw throuj^h her forehead, at others that the
top of her head was full of light, and occasionally that it was hard for her to see
at all. She useci to put sealed letters under her pillow and read them, some-
times she read by rubbing her hand over the letter, and Mrs. Sarah E. Town-
send, of New York cit\-, declares, " I have seen her read books in a similar
way." Mr. George F. Sangent, of Brooklyn, declares: "I am fully satisfied,
from seeing the exiieriments tried, that she can see, when blindfolded, what is
transpiring in and around the room. Usuall)' her eyes are closed and she does
tine sewing and embroidering when they are closed."

Miss Crosby, her aunt, who has had the care of her during all these years
(her mother being dead), testifies some of the remarkable things which she. Miss
Fanchcr, has done during her sickness are the following : "She could tell the
exact time by merely passing her hand over the crystal of a watch, also tell the
exact time across a room ; she could tell the approach of a thunderstorm some
hours in advance, siie could also tell the fire bells were going to ring five minutes
in advance. She coulti recognize parties ringing the door bell before they had
entered the house.

A peculiar form of somnambulism is Hypnosis, which may be called in-
duced somnambulism. The sleep, the dreaming, and the acting are all induced
by suggestion. Hypnosis is a widesi)read possibility. Its range is as extensive
as the possession of brains. Even in low forms of animal existence there is a
realm of the sub-conscious and hence a possibility of induced somnambulism or

SOMNAMHUI.ISM

J,2<)

hypnosis. The shrimp, crab, lohster, cod, brill and torpedo fish, tadpole, fro^
lizard, crocodiU;, serpent, tortoisi.', some birds, (iuinea pij; and rabbit are all
capable of hypnosis. Nearly every human bcin;; is subject to hypnosis. The
common impression that a weak will, incapacity to fix attention, and hysteric
temperament are predisposed to hypnosis is now declared a mistake by the best
authorities. In fact, these (jualities render their possessor less amenable to
BUf^gestion. The best sensitives an- vigorous in mind and body.

Hypnosis is produced by any method that fixes the attention and arouses
expectation of its occurrence. Passes or other manipulation, causing the sen-
sitive to gaze fixedly on any bright object, a sudden Hash of light, a violent
noise, a word of command, etc., may sullice to give the suggestion. In well
trained cases a simjile direction by letter, by telegraph or by telephone will do ;
and a mental command working by thought transference over miles of distance,
has been known repeatedly to succeed. A lady actually hypnotized a girl — an
entire stranger — whom she met in a railroad station, and whose face she simpl\'
stroked in sympathy. Ksdaile succeeded with a bimd colored man by gazing
silently upon him over the wall, as the patient was engaged eating his dinner;
the laborer gradually ceased to eat and in a (juarter of an hour was perfectly
entranced and < italeptic. This was repeated at untimely seasons and,
when the operator's presence could not have been known, always with like
results. The " Evil Eye," of ancient superstition, in this experiment was
probably realized. A gentleman hypnotized his babe by playfully shaking his
finger at it. Narcotics hasten or intensify hypnosis because they afTect the
conscious personality and leave the subconscious largely, if not wholly, awake.

There are different degrees of hypnosis or induced somnambulism — some
sensitives retaining throughout a measure of personal consciousness and a decided
power to resist absurd, disagreeable or immoral suggestions. Most sensitives,
however, are only subconscious and passively obedient.

Hypnosis really presents three stages, though not in any fixed order —
lethargy, catalepsy and somnambulist i. Lethargy or deep hypnotic sleep can
be produced by firmly closing the eyes, if the entranced patient knows that
such result is expected thereby. The whole body can be stiffened by pressure
at particular parts and rendered entirely insensible to pain. This state has
been and is now used as a substitute by physicians for the use of an,xsthetics,
and the most elaborate cuttings have been carried on with an insensibility as
complete as that conferred by chloroform.

Catalepsy or hypnotic dreaming is produced by simply opening the eyes
of the lethargic patient. There is now a state of impersonal consciousness
which replaces the coma of lethargy.

In this condition an attitude or a movement may be impressed from
without on the patient, who will retain the attitude or complete the movement.

430

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

The patient is now sensitive to only one suggestion at a time — the dreams being
suggested and ^^juided by the will of another — a perfect automaton. If she is a
devout Catholic and you ring the gong to imitate the church bell she at once
assumes an attitude of prayer. Insert a red glass between her staring eyes and
the light and she at on^e sees a conflagration and poor wretches struggling in the
flames, and wrings her hands in horror. Whistle a waltz and she will dance.
The two sides of the brain may be treated separately — a suggestion of fear
bemg given to one and of mirth to the other, and one side of the face is wreathed
in smiles and the other agonized with terror.

In hypnotic somnambulism the sensitive is sleep-talking and sleep-walking,
and knows her own dreams. The subconscious activity is highly acute and the
sleep personality is emphatic. Sensibility to pain is restored in this condition,
and speech returns.

In this induced somnambulism there are certain peculiar and marked
features.

The subject is curiously en rr.pport with the operator, the sleep personality
of the patient seeming in a sense identical with the personality of the operator.
There is not only the most implicit trust, confidence, and devotion on the part
of the sensitive, but also the existence of such common sensations and feelings
that a touch of salt or pepper on the operator's tongue is tasted by the patient
instantly. Thought transference becomes an easy channel of communication
and commands are made and executed by silent volition. Any statement of the
operator, no matter how absurd, ridiculous or impossible, is accepted as uncon-
trovertible fact and, in addition, a suggestion being given the sensitive's imagina-
tion at once elaborates, with most astounding credulity, any suggestion given
by the operator. For example, a file bitten is pronounced good chocolate be-
cause it is so declared by the operator. The patient is asked if she hears the
bird singing and at once begins to descant upon the richness and variety of the
music. A man is transformed at a word into a block cf ice, an Englishman in-
to a Chinese. She is bidden sleep a specified time and awakes at the moment —
or until a man's hat is removed and she awakes at the removal of the hat. Or
she is told a man in the room does not exist and she cannot see him — though
she may see a hat afterwards placed on his head and watch in amazement the
hat moving about the room on the head of the man she cannot see. Again the
operator may not only inhibit the exercise of the senses or of any activity, but
also increase the ordinary activity and accuracy of one of the senses. At his
command the sensitive cannot pronounce the letter A, may be made even to
forget the very existence of the letter. She may become blind, deaf, dumb,
without taste or smell. Or on the contrary any sense may become preternatur-
ally acute. She can now detect a particular quarter of a dollar from twenty
such, simply by weight, poising them on her finger. She can see things micro-

SOMNAMBULISM.

43 1

scopically small — or throujj;h opaque substances — or behold her own image in a
piece of paper which she is told is a mirror. Tell her a picture is on a blank
card and she at once perceives it, stranger still she can detect this card out of a
hundred similar ones. Stranger still she can see the reflection of this imaginary
picture in a mirror.

One of the most perplexing cjuestions in regard to somnambulism is the
"Sleep Personality," and its relations to the personality of the waking state.
As we have before noted, the renewals of somnambulistic experience all connect
themselves in our mnemonic chain so that the patient in this condition recalls
perfectly all the experiences of hci former somnambulism. The memory in the
waking state, however, knows nothing of these experiences in the somnambulistic
condition. P^acts acquired in the sleep are not available for the waking
moments and cannot be obtained except by some indirect method which appeals
to the coherent subconscicsness. For example, let us suppose the patient to
have been aroused from the somnambulistic condition in which she has accjuired
experiences or information which it is de.-iirable to obtain. Give the aroused
patient a planchette and the needed information will be forthcoming. Mr.
Gurney describes a large number of experiments in arithmetical problems given
ihe patient when in the somnambulistic condition, the answers having been duly
written out by jilanchette in the normal condition, when the latter was wholly
unaware of what he was doing. Dr. Proust describes a person who falls asleep
himself, without outside suggestion and without warning, v.-ho for short periods
exists in an entirely anomalous life; he is a veritable Dr. Jekyll, only his Mr.
Hyde is not at all a demon. On May nth, 1889, he was breakfasting at a
restaurant in Paris, and two days later found himself at Troyes. Of what had
happened during the interval he could remember nothing ; he recalled, however,
that before losing his primary consciousness he had worn a great coat, containing
in its pockets 226 francs.

He was hypnotized, and at once gave a lucid account of his somnambulism,
of his visit to Troyes, of friends dined with there, and where he left the overcoat
and purse. These statements were all verified, and the coat and purse, with the
exact amount of money, recovered. The preceding facts illustrate the gradual
rise of the second personality, which is indeed only an intensified form of the
sleep personalit}-. Incases where the character is racher weak this "new crea-
ture" may become the strongest member of the firm. (See the life of Mollie
Fancher, by Judge Dailey; the account of Mr. Moses of Blanch Witt and

Marcelini; K , in the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research,

\'ol. XV., pp. 216-220.)

Another very peculiar Tact is this : It is possible by hypnotic treatment not
only to develop a secondary personality from the ordinary personality (which
shall know not only all the ordinary personality knows but also, in addition,

43*

cLiMi'SEs OF THK uns1':i:n.

those experiences peculiar to itself) but also from this secondary personality to
develop a third, and from the third a fourth, each knowing all the exjieriences of

the preceding personalities. Prof. Janet has a favorite sensitive, Leonie B ,

who falls asleep at a word, or by volition exerted over a great distance. She
has an extensive mnemonic chain and a distinct character peculiar to her
condition. When hypnotized she calls herself Leontine, and is, as such,
vivacious, saucy, and not over truthful. One day Janet received a note from
Leonie written in a serious and respectful style, and declaring that jhe was ill.
Over the page began another epistle in quite a difierent style. " My dear good

sir : I must tell you that B really makes me suffer very much ; she cannot

sleep, she spits blood, she hurts me, and 1 am going to demolish her, she loves

me, 1 am ill also. This from your devoted Leontine." Madame B knew

nothing of this second letter when closely cjuestioned. These duplex letters
became common. Madame B would write Leontine's postscripts automati-
cally in a fit of abstraction and if, on arousing herself, she discovered what she
had done she would tear up the missive. Hence Leontine hit upon a plan of
placing them in a photographic album, into which Leonie could not look without
falling into catalepsy, Janet has succeeded from this secondary personality
(Leontine) in developing in mesmeric trance another who calls herself Leonore,

and who, in addition to all the memories of Leonie B and Leontine, has

memories peculiar to herself.

This ihaplication of the personality is one of the astounding facts disclosed
to us by hypnotic experiment, and has furnished a curious puzzle to the psych-
ologists. Mr. F. VV. H. Meyers of the Society for Psychical Research has
broached a theory in possible explanation of :hese astounding facts. He
assumes that every cell in our bodies has its own personality and its own
memory, and that every combination of cells in or associated with limbs or
organs, develop composite associations with associate memories. " These do
not deserve the title of separate personalities and their memories may never come
into the human consciousness at all. Above these rises the immense nervous
apparatus, which correspond to the human mind; and of tiiis apparatus we
habitually use only such proportion as our English vocabulary bears to all pos-
sible combinations ot the alphabet. The letters of our inward alphabet will
shape themselves into many other dialects ; and many other personalities as
distinct as those we assume to be ourselves, can be made out of our mental
material. Each of the personalities within us is itself the summation of many
narrow and inferior memories. It is conceivable there may be for each man a
yet more comprehensive personality, which correlates and comprises all known
and unknown phases of his being." Prof. Seymour in his work on hypnotism

says ;■

There is another phase of hypnotism which has often been demonstrated

SOMNAMBULlSxM.

433

has

own

lbs or

pos-
will

both in public and private exhibitions, viz., Somnambulism and Somniloquism
— sleep walking and sleep talking. It is not an uncommon thing fv)r a " Hypno-
tist " to so control his subjects as to render them unconscious of what is going
on around them, and even unconscious of their own actions, yet in this — what I
may term semi-conscious state — semi-conscious because conscious of what is said
by the operator — they at once comply with the directions of the hypnotizer.
They will answer questions, deliver an address, go out into the streets and per-
form feats of manual dexterity and acrobatic agility such as in their normal state
it would seem impossibe for them to accomplish. The impressions made upon
the mind while in this trance condition remain with some subjects long after be-
ing aroused to full consciousness, while with others their conduct is an entire
blank in their experience.

A few weeks since, while giving an exhibition in one of the public halls of this
city, I controlled a young lady who became unconscious of what she was doing.
I asked her if she had her pocket-book with her. She answered "I have." I
said, " will you let me see it ?" She at once took out her pocket-book and
showed it to me. I said, '* that is not yours ; it belongs to that lady back there!"
— referring to a lady back in the audience. The lady was an enfre stranger to
the one " hynotized," yet the subject immediately went back and insisted upon
her taking the pocket-book and returned to the stage without it. I at once
aroused the subject to consciousness and asked her if she had her pocket-book
in her pocket. She put her hand into her pocket, looked surprised, and said " I
have not 1" I asked her if she knew where it was. She said, " I do not!" I told
her that I would give her five dollars if she would go and get her pocket-book.
Her reply was " I would like to get my pocket-book and would gladly get the
five dollars, but I do not know where to go and find it !" I said, "have you no
recollection of giving it to anyone ?" Her reply was, " I do not remember any-
thing about it !" I again put her into the unconscious state and told her to go at
once and get her pocket-book. She went directly to the lady in the audience
and asked her for her pocket-book.

Many instances of similar character have come under my notice in the prac-
tice of hypnotism. At one time in giving an exhibition in the City of Reading,
Pa., I sent a man out to a baker shop to steal a loaf of bread. I told him that
he should not mind what the proprietor of the store said to him but get the bread
and bring it to me as soon as possible. The man went to the store, took the
bread and was walking out when the proprietor noticed him, and not knowing
the man was h\'pnotized he at once ran after him, calling " sto[) thief," but the
subject ran too fast and got to the hall with the bread, when in a minute after-
wards the baker came rushing to the door, but when he discovered the man was
hypnotized considered it a good joke. The man who was hypnotized was a very
conscientious man, and probably could not be induced to perform such an act — •

43*

CtLIMPsks of thh unski:n

under any circumstances -while in his normal state. I simply (^avit the exhibi-
tion to show the possibility of what mi^^ht be done under this hypnotic influence.

Another instance of Somnambulism, and one which proves that the ideas
convejed to the mind of a subject may have a lasting impression upon his con-
sciousness : — At one time while giving a parlor entertainment I made a young
man forget his own identity and believe he was some one else. The young
man's right name was Bojer. Hut under the hallucination he supposed himself
to be called Gibson. I told him that Boyer was sick and that at two o'clock in
the morning he — Gibson who in reality was Boyer — would be called upon to go
for the doctor. When the entertainment was over Boyer went home "ind went
to bed. But e.xactly at two o'clock, he got up in his sleep and under the delu
sion that he was still Gibson, dressed himself and went for the family physician ;
aroused him out of bed and told him that Boyer was very sick, and that his ser-
vices were requested at once to the Boyer resideiice. The physician realizing
the fact that the young man talking to him was the identical person whom he
was describing as being home in bed, supposed that there must be something
wrong, and went to the home of the Boyers and found the young man in bed fast
asleep, and when he was aroused from his sleep he had no recollection of having
been lor the physician or of leaving his bed from the first time he had entered it,
which was before midnight.

Durin,i; his wakeful nionicnts Mr. B. had lost all consciousness of the im^
]iressions made upon his memory wiiile in the trance or hypnotic condition, but
as soon as he became again unconscious of his e.xternal surroundings by falling
asleep, he at once became impressed with the ideas which he had when in a
similar state — beiKg hypnotized. Dr. Hammond, in his book on insanity, cites a
case which is very similar lo the one we have just given, althou'j[n under very
different circumstance : A servant while in a state of intoxication, carried a
package with which he had been entrusted, to the wroni;; house. Having become
sober he could not remember the place, and the package was supposed to be lost,
but after he got drunk attain he remembered the place, and went there and
■ecovered the package. This is not an uiifrequent occurrence in the experience
of drunkards, which (^oes to prove that drunkenness is a state of somnambulism
or hypnotism ; or in other words a slate of insanity, which virtually means the
same thin^.

Beaunis, of France, cites a case which proves that the impressions made
upon the coni^ciousness during the somnambulistic state may be carried into the
normal or wakeful state. He said to Miss E., whom he had hypnotized,
*' When you awake )'Ou will say to Mrs. A., ' I should very much like to have
some cherries ! ' " A while after waking she went to her friend, Mrs. A., and
whispereil something to her. B. then said : " I know wliat you whispered ;
that you longed (or ciierries ! " *' How do you know that?" she said, quite

SOMNAMHULISM.

435

astonished. On the following day she bouijjht some cherries to satisfy her violent
lont^incj for tliein.

()ne time at Rochester, N.Y., I lu-pnoti/ed a younLj man wlio was strongly
accustomed to the use of tobacco. I impressed him .vhiie m the hy|-)notic state
that tobacco would be distasteful to him when in his normal statf^. On the next
morninf^, as was his custom, ht; filled his pipe and was about to smoke, but when
Ik; had lit his tobacco and commenced, it was so distasteful to him tliat he could
not smoke. Thus we see — and this is but one case out of man\- in my experi-
ence — that the impressions made upon the mind duriiij; the conscious or
unconscious state may be carried from one to the oLlicr.

Another [)hase of impressions made upon the consciousness of subjects while
in the hypnotic trance is that where the impressions are made so lastinpj as to be
c irried into effect, weeks, months, and sometimes for years afterwards. Dr.
Bjornstrom, in his work on hypnotism, published by the Humb.'dt Pubhsiniif^
Conipany. quotes a ca^e from Bernheim, in which he says : "Miss G. was given
the suj:gestion that five days later, at the doctor's regular call, she would com-
plain of a headache." That came true. Another day he said to her: " In six
days, in the night, between Thursday and Friday, you will see the nurse come
to your bed and pour cold water over your legs." On the following Friday she
loudly complained that the nurse had poured cold water on her legs during the
night. The nurse was called, but, naturally, denied it. He then said to the
patient: " It was a dream, lor you know how I make you have dreams; the
nurse has done nothing." She emphaticallv declared that it was no dream, for
she had clearly seen it, felt the water, and become wet.

He cites another case which was of longer duration. In Angus.. B. said to
the somnamoulist S., formerly a sergeant : " What day of the tirst week in
October will you be at leisure ?" " On Wednesday." " Well, on the first
Wednesday of October you will go to Dr. Liebault ; at his house you will meet
the President of the Republic, who will give you a medal and a pension." *' J
will go there." Upon waking he did not remember anything of it. B. met him
several times and gave him other suggestions in the meantime, but did not
speak any more of this one. On the 3rd of October, sixty-three days after the
suggestion, B. received from Liebault a letter with contents as follows : " The
somnambulist S. was here to-day at ten minutes before eleven. Upon entering,
after he had bowed to M.F., who was in his way, he turned to the left to my
library, bowed respectfully in a direction where there was nobody, uttered the
word ' Excellency,' stretched out his hand and said : ' I thank your Excellency ! '
I asked to whom he talked. ' To the President of the Republic' No one was
there. Once more he turned in the same direction, bowed respectfully, and went
awav. Those who saw him asked me if the man was insane. I assured them
that lie was as sane as they or I, but that another person av,t-ed through him."

chaptp:k XIX.

WITCHCRAFT.

WEBSTER defines a witch as a person, especially a woman, who is given
to the black art ; one regarded as possessing supernatural or magical
power by compact with evil spirits ; a sorcerer or sorceress — now ap-
plied only to women. A belief in evil spirits and in their nearness to mankind,
and power to enter into commerce with the human race Is at the back of a
belief in witchcraft. In short, witchcraft implies demonology. The word demon
is employed in classic Greek literature in the sense of deity, and also in the more
specific sense of disembodied spirits. Among the most interesting passages of
the Iliad are those in which Homer makes Hesiod tell him how the men of
the Golden Race became after death demons, guardians, or watchers over
mortals, and where the doctrines of Empedocles, Plato, and other philosophers
are set forth showing how the demons came to be defined as good and evil, and
occupying an intermediate place between men and gods. The religions of the
world generally recognize an order of spiritual beings below the rank of the gov-
erning deities and distinguished from nature-spirits, and having a special concern
with living men and their affairs ; these beings (often looked upon as the ghosts
of dead men) are the demons of ordinary belief so frequently referred to in the
language and literature of the nations. In the Christian theology we find the
idea of good demon and guardian genius merged in the conception of good
angels, while the term demon was appropriated solely to evil spirits.

Among races of low culture the conception of a ghost soul was made to
account for the phenomena of life, and this readily led to a corresponding theory
of morbid slates of the body and the mind. As man's soul by its presence in
the body causes the normal functions while its absence produces sleep, trince
or death, so the abnormal phenomena of disease have a sufficient explanation at
hand in the idea that some other soul or soul-like spirit is acting upon or has
entered into the patient. Among the cases most readily suggesting this are
hysteria, epilepsy and madness, where the manifestations may well seem to
by-standers like the acts of some other being in temporary possession of the
body. Savage races generally ripply the theory of demoniacal possession to
explain disease. As a result of this savage theory of demoniacal possession we
have its natural result: the practice of exorcism. Our literature bears evidence
of the belief in demoniacal possession : a fit being styled, epilepsy or a "seizure"
(by whom ?). The New Testament, from the very explicit way in which the
various affections are described, shows clearly this view, in cases where the

WITCHCRAFT

437

person afflicted declared the name of the spirit possessinf^ him and answering
in his name when addressed. Among the early Christians the demoniacs or
energumens formed a special class under the control of a clerical order of
exorcists, and a mass of evidence drawn from such men as Cyril, Tertullian,
Chrysostom and Minutius Felix shows that the symptoms of those possep.sed
were such as modern physicians would class under hysteria, ejMlepsy, lunacy.
Some theologians, in deference to advanced medical knowledge, hold that
diseases such as we have discribed are not produced in our day by demons, but
strenuously argue that the same symptoms were really caused by demoniacal
possession in the first century. The subject is too long and too difficult for
full discussion here. Exorcism is still practised in savage lands, and occasionally
one hears of solemn religious services, in some corner of Europe, for drawing
out some evil spirit who has, according to popular view, gained temporary
possession of a human body. One of the last notable instances of this kind in
England was that of George Lukins, of Tattin, a knavish epileptic, out of whom
seven devils were exorcised by seven clergymen, at the Temple Church, at
Bristol, on June 13th, 1788.

Though the functions ascribed to demons in savage philosophy are especi-
ally connected with disease, they are by no means exclusively so. The presence
of this swarming host is called on to account for any event which seems to
happen by some unseen or controlling influence. Unfavorable events in life are
looked upon as resulting from hostile demons, but favorable events are to be
traced to the intervention of some kindly spirit and especially to a guardian or
patron demon. The belief in this guardian demon or angel is very wide spread.
The Jews firmly held to this belief. In Greek literature the idea is best
exemplified by the lines of Menander on the good demon whom every man has
from birth as his guide through the mysteries of life ; the most popularly known
example being that of the "demon" of Socrates, though he himself did not
give such personal definiteness to the divine or demonic influence which warned
him by what he described as a "voice" or "sign." The primitive idea of a
patron spirit is carried out in the Roman genius, whose name indicates that
it is born with the person whom it accompanies through life. There are places
in France at the present time, where a peasant meeting another salutes not only
the man but his " companion," the guardian angel who is supposed to be, though
invisible, at his side.

Among attendant and patron demons recognized in the general belief of
mankind, a specially important class, in the current belief, is the familiar spirits
who accompany sorcerers, giving them mysterious knowledge, uttering responses
through their voices, enabling them to perform wonderful feats, bringing ihem
treasure, or injuring their enemies and doing other spiritual services for them.
From the descriptions of sorcerers among the lower nations, it is at once evident

4,V^

uLlMl'SKS OF 1 UK UiSSEKN.

that their supposed intercourse with demons is closely connected with the
symptoms ol disease — jiossession. In the witch trials a favorite accusation was
thai of havinfT a famihar demon. This famihar demon mi<j;ht be — accordin*;
to the prevalent belief — -a human ^'host or some other demon. In the case of
"possession" or "obsession " this (amiliar controlled the ixxly from the inside
or from the outside. Sir Walter Scott s " Demoiioloi^y and Witchcraft "
contains, among other cases, that of Bessie Dunlop, whose familiar was the
ghost of one Thome Reid, killed at tlu" battle of Pinkie (1547), who enabled her
to give answers to sui:h as consulted her about tiie ailment of human beings or
cattle, or the recovery of things lost or stolen. This miserable woman, chiefly
on lier own confession, was, as usual, " convict and burnt." Here the imagined
demon was a human soul; but otiier spirits thus attended sorcerers and diviners,
such as the spirit called Hutlhart, who enabled a cTtain Highland woman to
prophesy as to the conspiracy to murder James 1. of Scotland. Magical books
are largely made up of dissertations on the art of invoking demons f(jr the
sorcerer's service, giving even the actual charms and ceremonies to be used. In
1807 appeared a tenth edition of Sil)l)'s " Inustration of the Occult Sciences."
To show how real all this appeared to our fatliers a ^ew generations back, it is
only necessary to note that a statute of James I. enacted "that all persons imok-
ing any evil spirit, or consulting, covenanting with, entertaining, employing,
feeding or rewarding any evil spirit, should be guilty of felony and suffer death."
This was not repeated until the reign of George 11. Educated public opinion
now rises far above this level, but popular credulit)' is imposed 011 still by much
the same means as in former d;t}s.

It is very interesting to note the position assumed by the law in various
lands and various ages towards a crime which was considered not only possible
but also specially noxious. It is a long period between the " Twelve Tables,''
of Roman history, and the " Bill of Rights," of English history, and yet the
lawyers of the latter age accepted the e.xistence ot witchcraft with a faith as
uncjuestioning as those of the former, and comparatively few, whether lawyers
or laymen, dared m the interval to raise their voices against the prevailing
superstition. And if the statement of the Rev. Dr. Buckley, a high authority,
be accepted, that a majority of the people of the United States now believe in
witchchralt, we see how slowly we get rid of superstition. The writings of
Shakespeare and other Elizabethan dramatists are sufficient of themselves to
show the alm(jst universal belief in witchcraft. Especially is this true if we use
the term to include any claim of power to produce effects by other than natural
causes, whether the effects are the result cf witchcraft, conjaration, sorcery,
incantation, or divination. The legal effects attaching to the exercise of any of
these forms of witchchraft were one and the same.

The "Twelve Tables" of the Roman law provided that no one should remove

\vri(H(RAi<T.

43'>

his nei<;hl)or's crops to another field by incantation or conjure away his corn.
The exercise of niaf];ical and diahohcal arts rendered the majdjicians themselves
hai)le to be burned alive, and those who consulted tlieni to crucifixion, liven
the possession of magical books was criniinal. To administer a lov^ potion was
ininislied by labor in the mines or relegation and fine in the ca«e of persons
of rank. One title of tlie Code of Justinian is entirely taken up with this sub-
ject. Sorcery was punished by Constantine with banishment or death by
burning ; and an accusation of witchcraft, as of treason, rendered eviiry one,
whatever his rank, liable to tortuie. To teach or to learn magic art was eMjually
criminal. The only exceptions allowed (and these were afterward- removed by
Leo), were magic remecbes for disease, and for drcmght, storms and other natural
phenomena injurious to agriculture.

The Church followed and amplified Koman law. The graver forms of witch-
craft constituted heresy, and jurisdiction over such offences was claimed by the
church even to a late date. This authorization by the CI ich of a belief in
witchcraft was based partly on well-known texts of the Mosaic law, esjiecially
Exotlus xxii : icS ; jiaitly on peculiar construction of other parts of Scripture,
such as I. Cor. xi.: lo, where the words " because of the angels," were supposed
to prove the reality of the class of demons called incuhi.

The earhest ecclesiastical decree was that of Ancyia, 315 A. D., condemning
soothsa\ers to five years' penance. The Canon law subjectcnl them to excom-
munication as idolaters and the en(^mi(!s of Christ, and the ISishops were enjoined
to use all the means in their power to put down the practice of divination. A priest
who sought to recover stolen goods by inspection of an astrolabe might be sus-
pended irom his office. In the fourieenth century, John XXII. published a bull
against witchcraft and Innocent Vill. in 14S4 another. Under the authority
of this bull inquisitors were apjiointed and hve years later they published the
famous work ^'Malleus Maleficanun,^' or Hexenhammer, the great text book on
procedure in witchcraft cases, especially in Germany. Witnesses incompetenf^^
in other cases were, by the practice here laid down, admissabh; on account
of the gravit}' of the offence, against but not for the accused. An alleged witch
was to be conjured by the tears of our Saviour and of our Lady to weep, which
she could not do if she were guilty. The authors explain why witchcraft is more
natural to women than to men, on account of the inherent wickeduviss of their
hearts. In the Roman and Greek Church the form of Exorcism still survives,
and was acknowledged by the Church of England ar, late as 1603. The 72nd
Canon of that year forbade attempts at casting out devils b\' fasting and prayer,
unless by special license from the Bishop. On one occasion in 1612, punishment
of the exorcised demons was attempted. The Bishop of Beauvair, in a docu-
ment which G-.rinet has preserved, pronounced sentence of excommunication
against five such demons.

440

GLIMI'SKS f)F THE UNSKliN.

In h'n<j^laiul, as in utlu'i lands, ccclesiastiral law < laimed cojj^nisance of
u'ituhcratt as a crime against Cod. Yet while the //ritin^s of the church fathers
are full i)f coudeiiinations (if mastic divinations, c'iabolical incantations, love
philtres, etc., an exception was niaile iu favor of incantation by a priest by means
of llv Lord's I'rayer or the Creed, (^jinmissions were issued empowering
bishops to search out sorcerers. I'e lance ami line were iiiHicted by the Church
anil in orraver offences the secular power acted as Executive. Sir lulward Coke
tells us that many persons guilty of sorcery were burned on authority of the
king's writ dt' lucrctico ( 'onihiiiriido after condemnation in the ecclesiastical courts.
A distinction more curious than important was drawn between conjurors, witches
and sorct-rers. Conjurors by force of magic words endeavored to raise the devil
and com ;)l' him to e.xecute their commands. Witches by Wi'v of a friendly con-
ference bar;j;ained with an evil spirit that he ■ ^uilI Jo wiiai they desin-.d.
Sorcerers or charmcTs, by ihe use of superstitious forms )f words or by means of
images or other rjpresentiitions of persons '^r things, produced strange effects
above the ordinary course of nature. I^egislation in b^ngland oa this subject be-
gan before the days of the conquest. Tuus the laws of Ethelred banished
witches, sootlisaj ers and magicians. By Act 5., Eliz. c. 10, conjuration an'^' ' 1-
vocatiou of vil spirits and the practice of sorceries, enchantments, clwuins and
witchcra*^ts, whereby death ensued, were made felonies without benefit of clergy,
and pur, ishable with death. At the accession of James I., perhaps in compliment
to the king's position as an expert and specialist in the matter, was passed jac. i,
c. 12, which continued law for more than a century. The strange verbiage of
one portion of this Act, as reflecting the views of the times, is worthy quotation:

"If any person or perse -"s shall use, practice, or exercise any invocation or
conjuration of any evil and wicked spirit; or shall consult, covenant with, enter-
tain, or employ, feed or reward any evi! and wicked spirit to or for any intent or
purpose, or take up any dead man or woman, or child out of his, her or their
grave or any other jjlace vhere the dead hody rcstcth, or the skin, bone, or any
part of any dead person, to be employed or used in any manner of witchcraft,
sorcery, charm or ench"mtment, or shall use, practice, or exercise any witchcraft,
enchantment, charm or sorcery, whereby any person shall be killed, destroyed,
wasted, consumed, pined or lamed in his or her body, or any part thereof," every
siv;h person is a felon witliout benefit of clergy. Imprisonment was the law for
first otience, and for a second it was made felony without benefit of clergy, to
declare by witchcraft where treasur i was, to provoke to unlawful love, or to
anempt to hurt cattle, goods or persons. Trials for witchcraft in England do
not seem to have been proportionately as numerous, or to have been attended
wi:h such circumstances of cruelty as those in most other countries. This may
be accounted for parti)' b)- the diminishing authority of the Church Courts,
partly b\' tlie abscMice of torture, as a recognized mode of procedure, though

wnciicRAi r

44t

witliont (louht it was tix; often used in an irifonnal manner. The firickinji; of the
bod)' of an alleged witch by Hopkins the witchfinder and simihir wretches to
fuul the insensible spot or devil's mark, the proof by water (a survival of the
old water ordeal) and similar proceedinj^s, if not judicial torture, at least caused
a: much pain to the victims. Trials for this offence were most numerous in the
seventeenth century. In the case of the Lancash' e witches in 1634, seventeen
persons were condemned on the evidence of one boy. Between 1645 and itJ47
brtween two and three hundred wer'; indicted in Suffolk and Lsse.x alone, over
half of whom wer<; convicted. The m(jst inten.stinir of all the many trials which
occurred ,U)out this period in Enj^laml wen; the trials of the Suffolk witches, be-
cause Sir Matthew Hale was the judt^e ar.d Sir Thomas Browne was the medical
e.xpert witness. In many of the trials the accusc;d confessed before e.xecution.
As a sample of the many cases take that tried at the Assizes, Hury St. Edmunds,
on March i6th, 1664-65, two widows named Rose Cullender and Annie Drury,
being accused of bewitching young children. There had been a quarrel between
the accused and the parents of the children, and the accused had uttered threats
against them. The children fell 'nto fits and vomited crooked pins, and once
one of them vomited a two-penny nail with a broad head ; they cried out the
names of the accused in their hts ; they could not pronoimce the wc-rds " Lord,"
" Jesus " or "Christ" in their reading, but when they came to "Satan" or
" devil " they cried " this bites but makes me speak it right well." One of the
children fell into a swoon after being suckled by one of the accused, and out of
the child's blanket fell a great toad which exploded in the fire like gunpowder,
and immediately afterwards the alleged witch was seen sitting at home maimed
and scorched. Evidence of finding the witch's mark was given and then evi-
ilence of reputation, viz., that the accused, besides being themselves accounted
witches, had had some of their kindred condemned as such. A farmer swore
that once when his cart had touched Cullender's house it overturned continually
and they could not get it home. Sir Thomas Browne testified that the swoon-
ing fits were natural, heightened to great excess by the subtlety of the devil co-
operating with the witches. Experiments upon the children were then made in
court by bringing them in contact with the witches and others. These were
of so unsatisfactory a nature that many present openly declared they thought
the children impostors. The chief baron in summing up said that there were
such creatures as witches was undoubted, for the Scriptures afiirmed it and the
wisdom of t^e nations had provided laws against such persons. The report
alleges that after the conviction of the accused the children immediately
recovered.

Surely a reading of the above account should make us grateful that we live
in a more enlightened and humane age. The last trial in England was that of
Jane Wenham, in 1712, convicted at Hertford, but not executed. As marking

ISm

44*

(.il.lMl'Sl.s Ol I UK UNSKKN.

tlu' decay of such trials ami the hrlicf ot witchcraft which Vw.s hack of thrm, it
nitiy be mtMitioiicil that as \i\ut as 171S, Dr. I lutchinson, liishop of I )own and
Connor, thc.iijj^ht it worth whihr to ar^nit; aj^ainst witchcraft, l)iit rather from tht;
po[)iihir than sci<rntilic point of view. Coke, Macon and Hale cj^rtainly admitted
the possibility of witchcraft; S(;ldon at h^ast approved the stalutor) provisions on
the subject ; ami Hlackstone, in LiuanU.'d l.mL^uajj^c, said that its exclusion from
the list of crimes was not to be under^^tood as implyinj,^ a denial of tlu; possibility
of such an ot'ft-nce, thou<,di, following Addison, he would not j^dve credit to any
particular moilern instanct*. In the present state of the law iti ''-nj^dand, pre-
tended supernatural powers maj- b(; such as to brin^ those professinj^^ them under
the criminal law, or to make \()id a transfer of property caused by belief in their
existence. The Act of 1736 enacted that any |)(M"son prtjtendinji^ to use witch-
craft, tell fortunes or discover stolen j.(oods by skill in any occult or crafty scienc*;,
was to be imprisoned for a \ (;ar, to stand in the pillory, and to find sureties for
good behavior. 1 iiis is still law, e.\cept as to the pillory. Hy the X'a^rant Act
of 1824-5, Cieorge IV. c. 8,^ s. 4, any person pretendinij^ or professiny^ to tell for-
tunes, or usiui^ any subtle craft, means or device, by palmistry or otherwise, to
deceive or impose on am of His Majesty's subjects, is to be deemed a roj^ue
and vaj^aboml. UucUt this Acta |)erson ma)- be convicted for attemptinj^f to
deceive by faisel)' pretendinij^ to have tile supernatural faculty of obtaining from
invisible agents and the spirits of the dead answers, messages and maniUtstations
of power, vi/ : noises, raps ami the winding up of a musical box. So may one
who issues an advertisement professing to forecast the future, though no money
is received, and the future of a particular person is not told. A false pretence
of witchcraft is also punishable under the Larceny Act of 1 861, 24 and 25 Vic-
toria, c. 96. In a case in Chancery in 1868, a widow lady, aged seventy-five,
was induced by the defendant, a spiritual medium, to transfer a large sum of
money to him under the belief that such was the wish of her deceased husband
as declared in spiritualistic manifestations. The court held that his claim of
supernatural power constituted undue influence, and that the gift must be set
aside.

An Act of the Scottish Parliament in 1 3O3 (ratilied in 1649) made it a capital
offence to use witchcraft, sorcery, or necromancy, or to pretend to such knowledge
or to seek help from witches. Trials were held before the ordmary courts and
more frequently before special tribunals erected by the authority of commissions
from time to time issued by the Privy Council, often on the petition of a presby-
tery, or the General Assembly. Boxes were placed in the churches to receive
accusations. The frecjuency of cases is shown by tht; order of Parliament in
1661 that justices-dejiute should go at least once a week to Musselburg and
Dalkeith to try persons accused of witchcraft. In these tiials evidence of the
wildest description was adn-:itl(d. Anything was relevant, and especially il

WITCHCRAFT.

443

thnn, it
own ami
from the
atlniitteU
Msionson
ion from
ossibility
t to any
uul, pre-
im under
f in tlu'ir
s(! witch -

scienct;,

eties for

rant Act

' tt!ll for-

rvvisi.', to

a rogue

ptini;; to

in<,^ from

stations

nay one

3 money

pretence

25 Vic-
nty-live,

sum of
lusband
:iaim of
t be set

I capital
owledi^e
ris and
nissions
presby-
receive
nent in
arg and
: of the
:ially ii

sworn to by a jirofessionnl \vitrli-lin(l(r or witch-|)rirk(!r, a position in wiiich oik!
Knuaid, like Hopkins in l.nj^iand, obt;iin.'d spec lal prominence. Torlure wa«
used in a most aj^^ravated form, as it \\a> commonly belirvcd the devil protected
his votaries from the effects of ordinary torture. A special furm of iron collar
and f;a^', called tlu? " witclic's bridle," was used.

The earliest recordt'd trial m Ircl.ind was in 1324, and before an ecclesias-
tical tribunal, it was a proceeding a«;ainst Dame .Mice K)telcr and others, in
the Hishop ol Assory's court, which led to a considerable conflict between the
church and the civil power. The Ivn^lish .statute of |{li/abeth against witch-
craft was adopted almost word tor word in Irel ind. Another Act of the Irish
Parliament provided that if a person bewitched in one (oue.i)' died in .motlier
the person guilt)' of causing his death might be tried m the county where the
death hai)pened.

The earliest execution for witchcraft in New Enfj;la!id was in 1^48. in the
abstract of the laws of New iMigland, print(!(l in 1655, appear these articles:
" III. Witchcraft, which is fellowship by covenant with a tamiliar spirit, to be
punished with diath. 1\'. Consulters with witches not to be tolerated, but
either to be cut off by death or banishment or other suitable punishment."

The fanatical outbreak at Salem in i6(ji-(jj is one of the most striking
incidents in the history of New luigland. Nineteen persons were executed lor
witchcraft, among whom was Ciiles Cony, the only person who ever i)erished by
X.\\e peine forte ct dure in Amerii:a. in 1O92 sixt\' were tried but or,!)' three con-
victed, and they received the (jovernor's pardon. The states have now each
their own legislation against pretended supernatural powers.

The law against witchcr.ift was minutely treated by the continental jurists
of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The extent to which legal reHne-
ment can go was well illustrated in the fact that, no less than eleven different
modes were recognized by law of profession to the service of the devil.

Some of the indications upon which it was lawful to infiict torture were
absence of the accused Irom bed during the night, drawing cabalistic signs on
the ground, threats of injury, and anointing the body. In Germany the ecclesi-
astical courts generally acted and the number of victims exceeded those of any
other country. It was in Germany, too, that the last execution for witchcraft
took place — at Posen, in 1793.

In France prosecutions lor vauderie occurred in the thirteenth and four-
teenth centuries. In the fifteenth century Joan of Arc was condemned on a
charge of witchcraft. The law aj^ainst sorcery held its place in French le^al
works until at least the middle ot the last century. White magic was distin-
guished from black magic, the black only being criminal, as part of the larger
ofTence, Use majeste divine, which included also heresy, blasphemy and perjury.
Burning was the usual punishment. Among the more remarkable of the indicia

''^

444

GLIMI'SKS OK THE UNSEEN.

Ill

upon which torture mi<j;ht be inflicted was the findinj^ on the premises of the
accused instruments of ma<;ic, as wax candles transfixed with needles, feathers
in the fc:>rm of a circle, ar a written pact with the devil. Pretended exercise o^
magic is now punished by the code penal. A very curious case of slander is
mentioned by Merlin. The slander consisted in an allegation by the defendant
that the complainants had danced around the devil, who was seated on a gilded
arm chair as jircsident of the dance. In Spain and Italy there was also a large
botly of legislation on witchcraft, the penalty upon conviction being, in most
cases, death.

Alluding to the current belief in witchcraft Dr. Buckley, as we have seen,
affirms that the majority of the citizens of the (Jnited States believe in it, and
accounts for the fact partially by the statement that the larger part of the immi-
grants from Europe are more or less in fear of such powers as witchcraft implies.
Where large colonies of immigrants remain isolated and continue to use their
native language the influence of such primeval superstitions is more readily
traced. Central Pennsylvania, it is said, on this account, furnishes the best
illustration of this fact. But a few years since suit was brought by a man
against his mother, in one of the counties of Pennsylvania, to recover damages
for a dog, which he charged her with having killed by witchcraft ; and he not
only brought suit but obtained judgment from a Justice of the Peace. Various
witnesses testified as to their 'experiences in witchcraft, and only one said that
he had never had a friend or relative who was bewitched. In man}' villages of
this state there are women with wide-extended reputations as witches. These
sell charms to parties in their locality to ward off lightning from buildings, dry
up the wells of enemies of the applicants, force cows to give bloody milk, cause
sickness in the family, destroy beauty, separate man and wife, and re-unite
estranged lovers.

Among- the illiterate whites of the Southern States, where there is little ad-
mixture of society, there is a class of " witch doctors " who secure a lucrative
practice in counteracting the influence supposed to be exerted by witches in
causing disease. A correspondent of the Philadelphia Times declares, giving
many facts to sustain his allegations, that " P"or generations the poor whiles
have believed in witches, and the belief is deep-seated and incurable." Dr.
Bucklev declares : " I have recently noted more than fifty suits instituted in the
United States by persons against those who they claimed had bewitclied them,
but under existing laws the accused could not be prosecuted except v»here money
had been obtained under false pretences, or overt acts of crime suggested or
committed. . . . During pedestrian tours in New iMigJand, in various parts
of the west, and in every southern state 1 have frequently stayed for tlie night
at the houses of poor farmers, laborers, fishermen, and trappers. In such
journeys I have invariably listened to the tales of the neighborhood, stimulating

WITCHCRAFT.

445

them by sugf^estion, and have found the belief in witchcraft cropping out in tiie
oldest towns in New England, sometimes within the very shadow of the building
where a learned ministry has existed from the settlement of the country, and
public schools have furnished means of education to all classes." The belief
extensively prevails throughout the West Indies, Mexico, and South America.

A highly respected and well informed clergyman, now resident in the United
States, noted for his devotion to the physical sciences, relates the following facts
as having occurred in England : —

My father, like many others, fully believed in witchcraft. In a little ancient
cottage about a mile from my father's, lived an old woman who had the reputation
of being a witch. One spring, as my father was planting potatoes in his held,
the old lady came to him to beg apiece for a garden. This he said he could not
grant, as he needed all for himself. She left the tield muttering something,
which, I suppose, my father understood to mean mischief. That evening, when
still in the held, he was seized with a strange nervous sensation, and an utter
inability to speak. Later in the evening he had a severe ht. This state of things
continued for some years. Mother always sent one of the boys with him to
render help or r port his condition. Another phase of the witchcraft superstition
was a belief in white witches, or those who could neutralize or destroy the work
and influence of witches. My father heard of one living many miles away, and
at once went to see him. I shall ever remember the interest with which we
listened to his story. He said the white witch told him that he had been be-
witched, as he supposed, by the old woman, but that her influence could be
entirely destroyed. He then gave my (athcr a little piece of paper ujion which
was written a charm which would in all future time protect him from all iiiHuencc
from witches. This paper must be worn over the breast, suspended by a piece
of tape from the neck. It must never be opened, never touch wood, stone or
iron, nor be handled by any one but himself. Said my father in concludmg his
story: " The white witch told me to always wear tiiis over my breast, and that
inside of three days I shall have one fit more, but after that 1 will never ha\(;
another syinptom of the kind." The following evening when at supper he had
another severe attack of Ills old trouble, hut sure enough it was ihe last. He lived
more than twenty \cars after that, but never l-.ad another symptom of fits, or
nervous dilficulty of ;iny kind. He was absoluteh- cured, as I know.

Those who have noted the power of " faith " and the influence of " sugges-
tion " in producing and removing disease will have no difficulty in accepting the
perfect truth of the above account and in explaining it also on purely natural
principles. W'; refer the curious reader to chapttirs two and seven of Hudson'.^
*' Law of Psychic Phenomena " and a valual)le little work of the Humboldt Lib-
rary, entitled "Mental Suggestion" l>y Dr. |. Ochorowicz.

Among other curious facts collected by Dr. Buckley we note the following :

!l' d

446

CILIMI'SKS OK THIi UNSKKN.

In 1S15 Ca}itciin Sainuel VVardwell of Maine, captain of the schooner Po//)',
desiriniij to excel all his competitors in the numi)er of trips made between Boston
and Penobscot in one season, hired Mrs. I^each, a reputed wi'.ch, for a bushel of
meal a trip, to fj;uarantee him fair winds.

" Moll Pitcher," so famous that for more than (ifty years " to her came the
rich and the poor, the wise and the iLj.iorant, the accomplished and the vulf^ar,
the brave and the timid," died April 9, 1813, in Lynn, Massachusetts, aj^^ed
sevent\-five years.

TIIK HIIiLK AND WrrCIICKA FT.

Various interesting^ problems present themselves when we consider the
relation of the ISible to witchcraft. The Old Testainent in a laroje number of
l")assages reco^i^nizes the belief 'n witchcraft and in some passages appears to
admit the reality of the art. The various forms of consulting evil spirits, of
seeking unlawfully for preternatural help and knowledge were all practised by
the Canaanites with whom the Israelites came to dwell, and from whom and the
Egyptians it is suppose'! they imbil^ed the faith and practice of witchcraft.
Isaiah seems to trace such belief and [)ractice back to the Chaldeans and Baby-
lonians. The answer given by the Chaldeans to Nebuchadnezzer showed that
throughout the world a class of magicians and astrologers existed, lor they said :
" There is not a man upon the earth that can shew the king's matter: therefore
there is no king, lord, nor ruler, that asked such things at any magician, or astrolo-
ger, or Chaldean."

The son of the godly Hezekiah, Manasseh, " practised augury and used
enchantments, and practised sorcery, and dealt with them that had familiar
spirits, and with wizards." Christianity originated among the Hebrews who
practised the various forms of divination, astrcjlogy, magic and witchcraft and it
soon c<ime into contact with Greeks and Romans among whom the same general
belief and co responding practices existed. Scot, in his Discovery of Witchcraft,
gives the fol'owing passage from the Latin poet Ovid :

" Witches can bleed our ;rroiiiul by niaji[ic spell,
And with enchantment dry the springin;^ soil ;
Make j.,'rapes and currants i\v at tlieir coinniand,
And strij) our orchards bare without a hand."

Lecky affirms that " sorcery could say with truth that there was not a single
nation of anticjuity, from the polished Greek to the rudest savage, which did not
admit a real art enabling men to foretell the future."

Christianity could not er.idicate at once from the minds of its followers
these universal supeistitions. The carlv Christians believed in the super-
natural origin of many alleged pagan miracles, in the fables current among the
peo -le, and were ready to give assent to any tale of strange events which
could be attributed to the devil or his agents. A very interesting problem

wrrcHCRAri"

44;

which has occasioned the theologians mnch trouble and in the discussion of
which not a few enemies of the Bible have taken part is this : Does the Bible
admit the reality of ivitchcraft ? John \Vesle\-,\vh() was Ijorn just twelve \-ears after
the memoraiile events of the Salem witchcraft, wrote in May, 1768 : " They well
know (referring to inhdels, materialists and deists) — whether Christians know it
or not — that the giving up of witchcraft is in effect giving up the Bible." Mat-
thew Hale in his "Trial of Witches" in 1661, leasing the conclusion upon the
Scriptures, affirms that there is a real supernatural operation of the devil at the
re(|uest of a witch. These were the views current at the time of their utterance
and only illustrate the fact that few great names can be accepted as an authority
in all points.

Moses declared that " the man or woman who hath a familiar spirit, or is a
wizard, shall be put to death." In Deuteronomy xviii. he enumerates the various
forms of occult practices when he warns the Israelites against the practices of the
nations whose land the Lord had given them, condemning " divination," one
that practises " augury," or an "enchanter," or a "sorcerer," or a " charmer,"
or a " consulter with a familiar spirit," or a " wizard," or a " necromancer."
Some contend that the Bible language in the above and similar passages does not
establish the reality of witchcraft in its various forms but only the facts that
people believed in the reality of witchcraft and attempted to practise it. In
short that the Bible condemns not the thing itself but the pretence of its reality
or the attempts of its devotees to practice. There can be no doubt the Bible
writers believed in its actuality and it is jierhaps as easy to reconcile their belief
in witchcraft with some theory of inspiration as to recognize their mistaken
notions concerning the physical universe with the scientific teachings of the day.
This view, however, seems a dangerous approach to a method of interpretation
of the Scriptures that would soon reduce their inhpiration and authority to zero.

The writer, after some study and consideration of the question, inclines to
the view that the various forms of divination and witchcraft find their best inter-
pretation in the psychology of to-day. Within the past twenty-five years, and
jiarticularly the past fifteen years, the investigations of psychologists have shown
the human mind capable of producing phenomena (that if not altogether unknown
before) were never distinctly recognized as belonging to the realm of mental
science. In mesmerism, spiritism, clairvoyance and telepathy, we have phen-
omena very closely allied, if not exactly identical, with that recjuired for the
various forms of divination. We are not compelled, therefore, to deny all reality
to these forms of divination, but \o attribute to hidden powers and processes of
the human mind or to hidden lorces in nature, what appeared in former ages
inexplicable without the operation of spiritual agency. It we takfi the pheno-
mena well established under scientific tests to-day in the realm of psychology,
and add to it the re([uisite amount of superstition and ignorance, we can find an

448

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

explanation that comes, in the judj^ment of the writer, nearer satisfying all the
conditions of the case than any other. That a certain class of men and 'vomen
are endowed with power under specific conditions to see and know things beyond
the scope of the senses, to become possessed of the thoughts and emotions
of others without any recognized channel of communication, to (at rare times)
predict events to come, and to influence the thoughts and conduct of their
fellow-beings at a distance without the aid of the ordinary channels of communi-
cation, the writer has no doubt whatever. This volume, we think, furnishes
evidence in its multitude of testimonies sufficient to establish these wonderful
phenomena.

THE WOMAN OF ENDOR.

The account of Saul's night visit to this woman that had " a familiar
spirit," is contamed in the first Book of Samuel, xxviii.: 7-25. It is one of the
most difficult and highly controverted passages of the whole Bible. Certain
commentators pass it over very lightly and do not commit themselves fully to any
method of interpretation. Others accept the passage in its obvious meaning as
a real apparition of Samuel, while others treat it as a piece of fraud and decep-
tion, and endeavor to explain away staten'icnts that seem so clear and definite
and incapable of double interpretation that we may well sympathize with them
in their arduous undertaking. If a passage so evidently historical, because it
recounts events beyond ordinary experience, and plainly implying what the
Scriptures teach, viz. : the continued existence of the soul after death, and
the possibility of its return to earth, can be explained away as implying not what
is stated, but some delusion of the senses, then we may well ask what parts of
the Bible really are historical and mean what they say.

It is true prominent names may be quoted for this interpretation. Tertul
lian declared : " Far be it from us to believe that the soul of any saint, much
less a prophet, can be drawn forth by a demon." Luther held that it was " the
devil's ghost " that appeared to Saul. Calvin thought it was a spectre and not
the real Samuel. Grotius held it was a deceptive spirit. Most of the early
fathers seem to have held that the appearance of Samuel was an imposture, a
figment of the devil. According to the Hebrew traditions mentioned by Jerome,
this woman (nowhere called the witch of Endor in Scripture) was the mother of
Abner, and so escaped the general massacre or expulsion when Saul was ridding
the land of necromancers.

'Ihe writer sees insuperable difiicuUies in the narrative t<j all materialists,
but from the standpoint of laith in the Bible as a divine revelation disclosing
to us the continued existence of the soul after death, and its frequent return to
this earth and manifestation to men, cannot well understand the repugnance of
many commentators to receive the narrative as one of fact and not of delusion.
Why should the return of Samuel be considered any more wondctful than the

WITCHCRAIT.

449

return of Moses and l*llijrili on the mount of transfiguration ? It is true the cir-
cumstances arc vastly different, but the essential fact is tiie same. And if it be
thougiit marvellous that a prophet should be called back to earth by the conjur-
infj of a woman in a cave, may it not be admitted as an evidence of divine power,
and for a purpose by no means unworthy, xlz.: the prophetic proclamation of the
doom of Saul. Seveial considerations force th's view upon us.

1. The obvious lanj^uaj^e of the text implies a real appearance of Samuel,
** And when the woman saw Samuel," " And Saul perceived that it was Samuel
and he stooped with his face to the unround and bowed himself," " And Samuel
said to Saul, ' Why hast thou disquieted me to brinj; me up ? ' " and many other
passages.

2. The statements of Samuel, as recorded in the narrative, are evidently
beyond the range of knowledge possessed by this outlawed woman dwelling in a
mountain cave.

3. The kindness and hospitality of this woman to the troubled king, and her
evident sympathy with him in his distress, negative the supposition that she had
wilfully deceived him. If she was, as the narrative plainly shows, deeply moved
at the suffering and despair of the king, why did she not reveal the fraud played
upon him if fraud, indeed, there were ?

4. The gravity and suitableness of the answers show that it was Samuel
who spoke to Saul and not the woman — in short it was a message from God
through the mouth-piece of God, his own prophet.

5. Saul i^ obeisance showed that he was fully convinced of Satnuel's presence,
which fact it is almost impossible to explain without assuming Samuel's
presence.

6. The woman had no time for collusive arrangements : the apparition sur-
prised her in that it revealed the character of her visitor, and her conduct, thus
taken into account, appears natural and consistent throughout.

7. That Samuel himself appeared was the view of the ancient Jewish Church
This is proved in various ways : —

(a) By the Septuagint addition in 1 Chron. x.: 13, " Saul asked counsel of
her that had a familiar spirit, to inquire of her ; and Samuel made ansiver to him.''

(b) By the book of Ecclesiasticus (46: 20). " After his death (Samuel) proph-
esied, and showed the king his end, and lifted up his voice from the earth in
prophecy."

The same opinion was maintained by early Christian writers, e.g., Justin
Martyr, Origen, Augustine and others. The account of this singular interview
between Saul and the woman of Endor is of so much interest that we shall tran-
scribe here the statement of it by Josephus whose writings frequently throw a
good many side-lights upon the Scripture narrative : — Now Saul, king of the

♦so

GLIMPSES OF THK UNSKKN.

Hebrews, had cast out of the country the fortune-tellers, and the necromancers,
and all such as exercised the like arts, excepting the prophets ; but when he
lieard that the Philistines were already come, and had pitched their camp near
the City Shunem, situate in the plain, he made haste to oppose them with his
forces ; and when he had come to a ceiiaip mountain called Gilboa, he pitched
his camp over against the enemy ; but when he saw the enemy's array he was
greatly troubled, because it appeared to him to be numerous and superior to his
own ; and he encjuired of God by the prophets concerning the battle, that he
might know beforehand what would be the event of it ; and when God did not
answer him, Saul was under a still greater dread, and his courage fell, foieseeing
as was but reasonable to suppose, that mischief would befall him now that God,
was not there to assist hiin, yet did he bid his serv.mts to encpiire out for him
some woman that was a necromancer, and called up the souls of the dead, that so
he might know whether his affairs would succeed to his mind ; for this sort of
necromantic women that bring up the souls of the dead, do by them foretell
future events to such as desire them. And one of his servants told him there
was such a woman in the City of Endor, but was known to nobody in the camp;
hereupon Saul put olT his royal apparel, and took two of his servants with him
whom he knew to be most faithful to him, and came to Endor, to the woman,
and entreated her to act the part of a fortune-teller, and to bring up such a soui
to him as he should name to her. But when the woman opposed his motion
and raid she did not despise the king who had banished this sort of fortune-
tellers, and that he did not do well himself when she had done him no harm, to
tnidcavor to lay a snare for her, and to discover that she exercised a forbidden
art, in order to procure her to be punished, he swore that nobody should know
what she did ; and that he would not tell anyone else what she foictold, but that
she should incur no danger. As soon as he had induced her by this oath to
fear no harm, he bade her bring up to him the soul of Samuel. She, not
knowing who Samuel was, called him out of Hades. When he appeared and
the woman saw one that was venerable and of a divine form, she was in
disorder, and, being astonished at the sight, she said, " Art thou not king
Saul " ? for Samuel had informed her who he was. When he had avowed that
to be true, and had asked her w:hence her disorder arose, she said that she
saw a certain person ascend, who in form was like to a god. And when he
bade her tell him what he resembled, m what habit he ajipeared and of what
age he was, she told him he was an old man already, and of a glorious per-
sonage, and had on a sacerdotal mantle. So the king discovered by these
signs that he was Samuel ; and he fell down upon the ground and saluted and
worshipped him. And when the soul of Samuel asked him why he had disturbed
him, and caused him to be brought up, he lamented the necessity he was under;
for he said that his enemies pressed heavily upon him ; that he was in distress

wncHCRAir.

45 •

Svhat to do in his present circumstances; that he was forsaken of God, and
couhl obtain no prediction of what was cominjj;, neither l)y prophets nor by
dreams ; and that " these are the reasons why I have recourse to thee, who
always took care of nie." J3ut Samuel, seeinj; that the end of Saul's life was
come, said : " It is vain for thee to desire to learn of me anythin-; further, when
God hath forsaken thee: however, hear what 1 say, that David is to be kin<;
and to finish this war with good success ; and thou art to lose thy dominion and
thy life, because thou didst not obey (iod in thy war with the Amalekites, and
hast not kept the commandments, as I foretold thee while I was alive. Know,
therefore, that the people shall be made subject to their enemies, and tliat thou
with thy sons shalt fall in the battle to-morrow, and thou shalt then be with me
in Hades."

When Saul heard this, he could not speak for grief, and fell down on the
floor, whether it was from the sorrow that arose from what Samuel had said, or
from his emptiness, for he had taken no food the foregoing day or night, he easily
fell quite down, and when with difficulty he had recovered himself, the woman
would force him to eat, begging this as a favor on account of her concern in that
dangerous instance of fortune-telling, which it was not lawful for her to have
done because of the fear she was under the king, while she knew not who he was,
yet did she undertake it and go through with it ; on which account she
entreated him to admit that a table and food might be set before him
that he might recover his strength and so get safe to his own camp. And when
he opposed her motion and entirely rejected it, by reason of his anxiety, she
forced him and at last persuaded him to it. Now she had one calf that she was
very fond of, and one that she took a great deal of care of, and fed it herself, (or she
was a woman that got her living by the labor of her own hands and had no other
possession but that one calf; this she killed and m;tde read}- its Hesh and set it
before his servants and himself. So Saul came to the cainp while it was yet
night.

Now it is but just to recommend the gcMierosity of this woman, because
when the king had forbidden her to use that art whence their circumstances
were bettered and improv(!d, and when she had never seen the king before, she
still did not remember, to his disadvaniage, that he had condemned her sort of
learning, and did not refuse him as a stranger, and that she had no accjuaintance
with; but she had compassion upon him, and comforted him, and exhorted him
to do what he was greatly averse to, and olTered him the only creature that she
had as a poor woman, and that earnestly and with great humanity, while she
had no recjuittal made her for her kindness, nor huntei.1 after any future favor
from him, for she knew he was to die; whereas men are naturally either am-
bitious to please those who bestow benefits upon them, or are very ready t(j
serve those from whom they may receive some advantage. It would be

45^

cii,iMi'.si:.s OF ini'; lnskk:^.

well, therefore, to iinilrite the e.\ain})le of this \voni;ui, and to do kindnesses to
all such as are in want, and to think that nothing' is better nor more heconiin*;
to mankind than such a general beneficence, nor what will sooner render God
favorable, and ready to bestow ijjood things upon us. And so lar may sullice
to have spoken concerning this woman.

OS to

G(h1
J nice

.-w X^- -^^-'A WJI^

\V. r. STKAI).

■f^'^:'.

> ^it

CHAPTER XX.

HALI-UCINATIONS.

VAN NORDF^N declares that liallucination is theexternalizingof our ideas ;
the externalizinj; sensation is knowledge. It would be difficult to give a
briefer and truer explanation. Worcester defines hallucination as a
" morbid error in one or more of the senses ; a perception of objects which do
not, in fact, make any impression upon the external senses." In short, hallu-
cination is a perception by the mind of that which has no real existence. The sub-
ject, for example, i^ees an object which does not exist, except subjectively to himself.

"The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact.

The lover frantic
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt.
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown ; the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothings
A local habitation and a name."

A. Brierrc Je Boismont, M.D,, who has entered deeply into the study of
hallucinations, and written extensively and in a most interesting manner thereon,
was a Knight of the Legion of Honor, a laureate of the National Academy of
Medicine in France.

He accounts for the almost universal belief in spirits and apparitions by
•'the irresistible criving after the unknown and a belief in the supernatural,
which manifests itself in a love of the marvellous." Accordmg to hmi, imagina-
tion is perpetually seeking to break away from the ties which bind it to reason,
and when it succeeds there are no fables, beliefs, illusions, dreams that it will
not accept and propagate.

" We love better to believe than examine," says Bacon, and this is true in
the infancy )f the individual and in the infancy of the race. In the middle ages
the imagination triumphed, and the air was filled with marvellous birds, the
earth overrun with terrible animals, the sea peopled with monstrous fishes,
while in its unexplored regions men told of magnificent countries and new terres-
trial paradises. We quote Boismont's view as to the way in which hallucinations
arise : " Sensible objects are the exclusive materials of hallucinations ; anything
which can effect a strong impression on the mind may, under certain circum-

4,V)

>S6

c.i.iMrsi'.s ()!■ 'riih: lnskicn.

stances, produce an iinaj;e, a sound, an odor, etc. 'I'lius, when a man has for a
lonj^ time given liimself up to liahits of profound meditation, he frf(|U(.'ntly per-
ceives tlie idea with which he was occujiied clothe itself in a material form ; as the
mental labor ceases the vision disappears, and he explains it to himself by
certain natural laws. Hut if this man lives at a time when the belief in the ap-
pearance of spirits, (hnnons, j^hosts, and phantoms is j^eneral, then the vision
becomes to him a realil\'; but with this difference, thai if his mind is sound,
and his reasoninj^' powers in a healthy state, the apparition has no intluence on
his conduct, and he performs his duties in life just as well as the man who has
no hallucinations at all.

♦* This remark ajiplies with j^^reatcr force to the hallucinations of celebrated
men. To have emancipated themselves from llie j^^eneral belief of their lime,
would have recpnred them to be of a different nature, particularly when that
belief contained nothiiif^ reprehensible. In adoptinj^ these opinions thev shared
the mistake of society at larj,'e, but their enterprises, their actions, their doctrines
were tliose ot philosophers, of moralists, and of benefactors of their race."

With regard to the apparitions mentioned in Scripture, Dq Boismont re-
gards them as authentic, but separates them enlii(!l}' from the hallucinations of
religious persons derived from certain popular beliefs which are not comj)atible
with reason.

Abercrombie refers hallucinations to the following sources :

1. Propensities of character which have been kept under restraint by reason
or by external circumstances, and old habits which had been subdued or
restrained, developing themselves without control, and leading the mind into
trains of fancies arising out of them. Thus a man of aspiring, ambitious char-
acter may imagine himself a king, or great personage, etc.

2. Old associations recalled into the mind and mixed up, perhaps, with
more recent occurrences, in the same manner as we often see in dreaming. A
lady mentioned by Dr. Gooch, who became insane in consequence ot an alarm
from a house on fire in her neighborhood, imagined that she was the Virgin
Mary, and had a luminous halo round her head.

3. Visions of the imagination which have formerly been indulged in, of that
kind which we call waking dreams or castle-building, recurring to the mind in
this condition and now believed to liave a real existence. He goes on to cite a
case of hallucination traced to this source. An individual greatly desired a cer-
tain office and often imagined himself as filling it. The hallucination took the
form of an idea that he was appointed and he could not ue persuaded otherwise,
or that the offtce was not vacant. In a man mentioned by Dr. Morrison the
hallucination turned upon circumstances which had been mentioned to him
when his fortune was told by a gipsy.

4. Bodily feelings often give rise to trains of association, in the same

HM.LUCINAIIO.V

4s:

nth
A

irm
;in

lat
in
e a
;er-
the
ise,
the
lim

■me

extravajrant nianiu-r as in drcaniin;;. A man inentiont'tl by Dr. ICusli iiii.i;;inecl
he had a Caffre in his stomach, who had ^'t)t into it at the Cape of Good Hope,
anil had occasioned him a constant urn asin«;s8 ever since. In such a case it is
probable that there had been some lixiul or fretjiu nl uiK.'asy feehn;^' at the stom-
ach, and that about the commencement of his complaint he had been stronj^ly
impressed by some transaction in which a Caffre was concerned.

5. There seems reason to believe that the hallucinalioiis of the itisane are
often influenced by a certain sense of the new and sini^ular slat(! in which their
mental pcnvers really are, and a certain feeling', thoui^h contused and ill-dclmed,
of the loss of that power over their mental pnjcesses, which they possessed when
in health. To a leelin^' of this kind is attributtnl ilu.: imjiression, so common
amo:;>^ the insane, of Ixmulj under the inllu(Mice of som*; supernatuial power.
Sometimes it is believed an evil sjiirit controls, sometimes that the subject is a
victim of witchcraft. Very often the victims of hallucinations describe it as a
mysterious and undue influence which some individual has obtained over llirm,
and this influence they often represent as beinj^ carried on by means of electric-
ity, f^alvanism, or maj^netism. This impression once established of a m\sterious
agency, various other incidental associations may bo brought mto connet tion
with it, according as particular circumstances have made a deep impression on
the mind.

A man mentioned by Pine), who had become insane durim; the l-'mich
revolution, imagined that he had b(;en guillotined, that the judges had i;hanged
their minds after the sentence was executed and had ordered his head to be put
on again, and that the persons entrusted with this duty had made a mistake and
put a wrong head upon him. Another individual, mentioned by Dr. Conollv,
imagined that he had been hanged and brought to life by means of galvanism,
and that the whole of his life had not been restored to him.

Out of this same undefined feeling of mental processes very different h(jm
those of the healthy state probably arises another common impression, namely,
of intercourse with spiritual beings, visions, and revelations. The particular
shape and character which these will assume depends largely upon past educa-
tion, environment, propensity, etc.

\ priest mentioned by Pinel imagined that he had a commission from the
Vir"iii Mary to murder a certain individual who was accused of infidelity. It is
probab'^ that the patient in this case had been naturally of a violent and
irascible disposition ; that he had come in contact with tJiis person and had i)een
annoyed and irritated by infidel sentiments uttered by Jiim, and that a
stron"' feeling in regard to him had thus been excited in his mind, which, in his
insane state, was formed into his vision.

■When the mental impression is of a depressing character that modification
of the disease is produced, which is called melancholia, the most striking

ScS

GLIMPSliS Ol' I'm-: LNSKKN.

peculiarity o{ which is the propensity to suicidt'. Wlieii this niehuichohc halkic-
ination has once possessed the; mind it becomes tlie sole object of attention.
The mind has no power to vary the impression. Life seems an intolerable
burden. Occasionally, however, some new impression is created by the victim's
circumstances which is suiiiciently deep and powerful to drive out the melan-
cholia. Thus a man mentioned by Pinel had lefi his house at nif^ht with a fixed
determination of drownintj; himself, when he was attacked by robbers. He did
his best to escape from them, and havint; done so returned home, the resolution
of suicide being entirely dissipated. A woman mentioned by Di. Burrows had
her resolution changed in the same manner, by something falling on her head
after she had gone out for a similar purpose.

Boismont treats in his elaborate work of hallucinations under the following
heads :

1. Hallucinations which co-exist with a sound state of mind.

2. Simple hallucinations which are associated with a greater or less amount
of mental derangement,

3. Hallucinations which are associated with errors of the senses, to which
the name of illusion has been given,

4. Those associated with mania.

5. Those of delirium tremens.

6. Hallucinations in nervous diseases not involving insanity.

7. Those of nightmare and dreams,

8. Those of ecstasy, animCil magnetism, and somnambulism.

9. Hallucinations in febrile, inflammatory, acute, chronic, and other
diseases.

10. Those relating to psychology, history, morality, and religion.

From his opening chapter defining hallucinations we extract the following
definitions from authoritative sources :

Arnold, who speaks of hallucination as " ideal insanity," declares it is that
state of mind in which a person imagines he sees, hears, or otherwise perceives, or
converses with persons or things, which either have no external existence to his
senses at that time, or have no such external existence as they are then con-
ceived to have ; or, if he perceives external objects as they really exist, has yet
erroneous and absurd ideas of his own form and other sensible (jualities.

This definit on, alihough somewhat long, distinguishes between hallucina-
tions and illusioTis, as well as errors of [lersonalit) ;

Alexander Crichton, who wrote about the same time, defined a hullucina-
tion, or an illusion, as " Hrror of mind, in which ideal objects are mistaken for
realities; or in which real objects are falsely represented, without general
derangement ot the mental faculties."

By the word hallucmation, Ferriar understands every false impression,.

HALLUClNArU)NS,

459

halluc-
tentioii.
olerable
victim's

melan-
1 a fixed
He did
solution
)ws had
er liead

allowing

amount
o which

d other

oil owing

is that
eives, or
:e to his
len con-
has vet

illucina-

jllucinn-

aken for

general

pressiotv

from the cippearance of a Hy, dancing before the eyes, up to the most hideous
spectre.

According to Hibbert, iiallucinations are " nothing more than ideas, or the
recollected images of the mind, which have been rendered more vivid than
actual impressions."

Esquirol, who war, the first in l''rance to give a definite meaning to the
word hallucination, applied it to those phenomena which did not depend upon
any local derangement of the organs of the senses, a wrong association of the
ideas, or upon the imagination, but solely upon some special, and, as yet,
unknown lesion of the brain. He dehned a hallucination as a cerebral or mental
phenomenon, occurring independently of the senses, and consisting o- external
impressions which the patient believes he experiences, although .e is no

external agent acting on his senses. In another part of the same work he says ;
" The pretended sensations of the hallucinated are images or ideas, reproduced
by the memory, associated together by the imagination, and which become
impersonated by habit."

Darwin, and after him, M. Foville, regards hallucinations as resulting from
structural changes in the organs of the senses. According to this hypothesis,
there is always a false perception. It is, however, impossible to adopt this theory
in regard to those hallucinations which are in perfect accordance with the
habitual ideas of the individ-ual, and with the opinions of the period.

M. Leiut considers a hallucination as a phenomenon intermediate between
the actual sensation and the conception of the idea. According to this writer,
it is a spontaneous conversion of the thought into sensations, which are most
frequently external.

Between a sensation and the conception, says M. Leuret, there is an inter-
mediate phenomenon, which medical men have designated by the term hallucin-
ation. A hallucination resembles a sensation, inasmuch as that, like the latter,
it gives rise to the idea ol some external body acting on th(^ senses; it differs in
that this external object docs not exist. Like the mind, it creates; but, instead
of ideas, it produces images — images which, to the hallucinated, are the same
as real objects.*

M. Aubancl, in his excellent thesis on hallucinations, f regards this phen-
omenon as a special form or variety of mental diseas(>, in which a man converts
the insane conceptions of his mind into actual sensations, or who, in conse-
cjuence of these same conceptions, negatives his true sensations by assimilating
them to his perverted ideas.

M. I^aillarger admits two kinds of hallucinaiions — the one complete, arising
from the combined influence of the imagination and tlu; organs of the senses ;

•Leuret: /■'nj^i;>iii'iits /':[■. ii(>I<>!;ii/ii,'\- >iii /tt Fi'/ir, ^. 155. I'uris : 18 {|.
+Aubanel : Essai siir les I/a/hiinaiii'iis. I'hese. I'aris : 1^:9

460

GLIAirSKS OF THE UNSEKN.

these hallucinations he \.crm9, psycho-seiisorial ; the other, beinp; due solely to the
involuntary exercise of the memory and the imagination, and denominated psy-
cliicdl hallitcinntions. lie defines a psycho-sensorial hallucination as tlie precep-
tion of a sensation, mdependent of all external excitement of the organs of the
senses ; and as arising from the involuntary exercise of the memory and the
imagination. Psychical hallucinations mav be dcfmed as purely intellectual
perceptions, arising from the involuntary exercise of the memory and the imag-
ination ; they differ from the precedmg in not producing any internal excitement
of the organs of the senses.

Dendy, in his /^Iiilosop/iy of Mystery, defmes illusive />r;'ception, or ocular
spectra, as the conversion of natural objects into phantoms ; and. 'IJusive co;/cep-
tion, or spectral illusion, as the creation of phantoms. He adds, in the first class
there is no real or palpable object ; or, if there be, it is not what it appears,*

M. Lcuret has divided hallucinations into those which occur in the waking
state, and into those which take place during sleep ; the latter are commonly
termed visions. He includes incubi and succubif among the hallucinations of
sleep. ■ '

M. Aubanel, who does not separate hallucinations from illusions, has pro-
posed the following divisions :

1. The hallucinated are fully aw:ire of the nature of the phenomena to which
they are liable, and they attribute them to the state of the mind, or to a diseased
condition of the imagination ; the intellect is perfectly sound, and sometimes
extraorch'narily developed .

2. The hallucinated do not perceive that tlieir false impressions may arise
without the intervention o( the organs of the senses ; and they regulate their
actions in obedience to the phenomena whicli affect them.

3. The hallucinated fully believe in the intervention of their senses, and in
the reality of the external impressions which they experience.

I)e Boismont argues strongl}- that hallucinations may co-exist with sanity.
He points out cases where images which were present to the senses have been
recognized as the result of things passed or as mental creations, sometimes,
indeed, looked upon as the creation of supernatural power; but they continue
to jiossess one character in common, that the}- do not exercise any injurious
effect upon the conduct. This is no longer the case when the mind mistakes
the image for the real object, to which it becomes an obedient slave.

Brewster, in his Letters on Natural J/a<^nc, relates an experiment of Newton,
which shows that everyone lias the power of producing hallucinations at his

* Walter Coiiptr Dcndy : 7'Af Philosophy of Mystery, p. 125. Lnniion: 1S41.

+ In the present iliiy, the term inculnis is usually applied to the night-mare, luit formerly it referred to imaginary fiends
or S|)ectres, to wiiom siranjje jiowers are attrilmted hy the writers on demr)niacal agency. Many nobli-' fainilits were sup-
posed to have their oriijin from the connection of incubi with females, as in the well known instance of kol)ert of Nnrmandy,
called /, Ditt/'le. The succubus was a similar fiend of the female sex.

HALI.UCIXAIIOXS.

461

arise
their

canity,
been

■wton,
at his

pleasure. This ]-)hiIosopher, after havinijj rcij;ardcd for some time an imai^e <>f
the sun in a lookinf^^ghiss, was much surjirised, on directinsj; his eyes towards the
dark part of the room, to see a spectre of the sun reproduced bit by Ijit until
it slione with all the vividness and all tlie colors of the real objOct. This hal-
lucination aftP'wards recurred wherever he was in the daric.

Paterson remarks that the same phenomenon takes place on looking fixedly
at a window in a stron<]j h,<j;ht, and then at a wall ; a spc^jtral impression of the
window, with its pains and bars, soon presents itself. To these examj-jles may
be added thai o( persons who, having; concentrated their attention on a ]-)artieular
landscajis, or a mountain, which they have met with in their travels, are able to
reproduce them with the ,t,Teatest exactness.

Th(,' state oi reverie has been cxiiLuienced by everyone, and is a condition
which shows how casil\- hallucinations may be produced.

" Nothing," says Meister, " so well illustrates the nature of our thinking
faculties as to consider them in the different conditions of waking and of slecfMng,
and in that intermediate state between sleeping and waking, where the external
senses are in a more perfect state of quiet and rest, than in the most profound
repose ; when the active inner sense is cut off from the external world, and we
doubt whether we are in a state of sleep or meditation. This condition usually
precedes or follows that of sleep; sometimes it arises from prolonged meditation
on one object, or on one idea, especially when we are placed amidst the silence
of nature, in the recesses of a forest, or are surrounded by the darkness of night.
Under these circumstances, a single impression or a single image becomes
arrested before us, and takes exclusive possession of our thoughts ; at such
times the understanding acts only by its own intuitive powers. Entire scenes,
broken or connected pictures, pass slowly or rajndly before the vision of our
inner sense. We fancy we behold, and behold with the most perfect reality,
things which we have never seen. They are, in truth, ]-)hantoms which the
power of our imagination has invoked around us, happy or miserable, beneath
the charm of its magic.

" I am convinced that devotees, lovers, would-be prophets, illuminati,
Swedenliorgians, are all indebted to illusions for their miracles, their presenti-
ments, their \isions, their prophecies, their intercourse with angelic beings, and
their visits to heaven and to hell ; in a word, for all the extravagances and
superstitions of their contagious reveries. At the same time, I have no hesita-
uou in declaring, that, under the^ same circumstances, men of genius have
conceived tl'ic greatest beauties, and the most original portion of their writings;
that the geometrician has discovered the long sought-for solution of his problem ;
the metaphysican constructed the most ingenious of his theories ; the poet l.)een
inspired with his most effective verses ; the musician with his most expressive
and brilliant passages ; the statesman with expedi(;nts that all his experience

462

GLIMKSKS OF THE UNSKKN.

liad failed to discover; and the f(eneral of an army with that compiehensive
glance which decides the battle, and secures for him the victory."

Hallucinations existing in man without disorder of tlie intellect may be cor-
rected by the judj^ment or not corrected. Among the former class is mentioned:
" A painter who succeeded to a large portion of the practice, and (as bethought)
to more than all the talent of Sir Joshua Reynolds, was so extensively employed,
that he informed me," says Dr. Wlgan, " he had once paiiued (large and small)
three hundred portraits in one year." This would seem physically impossible ;
but the secret of his rajiidity and of his astonishing success was this : he re(}uired
but one sitting, and painted with miraculous facility. I myself saw him execute
a kit-cat portrait of a gentleman well known to me in little more than eight
hours; it was minutely finished, and a m(;st striking likeness.

" On asking him to explain it, he said, ' When a sitter came, I looked at
him attentively for half an hour, sketching from time to time on the canvas. I
wanted no more — I put away my canvas, and took another sitter. When I
wished to resume my first portrait, / took the man and sal Inm in the chair, where
I saw him as distinctly as if he had been befcrc me in his oic/i proper person — I nray
almost say more vividly. 1 looked from time to time at the imaginary fig'^re,
then worked with my pencil, then referred to the countenance, and so on, ju^'t
as I should have done had the sitter been there. When I looked a' the ciair, I
smo t/ie man ! This made me very popular ; and, as I always succeederl "n the
likeness, peoj^jJe were very glad to be spared the tedious sittings of other p. ii.iers.
1 gained a great deal of money, and was very careful of it. Well !•); me aud my
•children that it was so. Ciradually 1 began to '^'Se the distinction between the
imaginary figure and the real person, and somi^vime'- disputed with sii/.ers that
they iiad been with me the day before. At last J was su -j of it, and then — and
then — all is confusion, 1 suppose they look ibe ■ila^m. 1 recollect notiiing
more — 1 lost my senses — was thirty years in an asylum. The whole period,
excei-)t the last six months of my confinement, is a d(^ad blank in my memory,
though sometimes, when people describe their visits, I liave a sort ot imperfect
remembrance of them ; but 1 must not dwell on these subjects.' "

Hyacinthe Langlois, a distinguished artist of Rouen, who was very intimate
with Talma, stated that this great actor had informed him, that when he entered
on the stage he was able, by the power of his will, to banish from his sight the
dress of his numerous and brilliant audience, and to substitute in the place of
these living {^^r-r-ns io many skelrton.". W'iien his imagination had thus filled
the theatre with these singular ajmrhUofH, tlie emotions which he exi)erienced
gave such an in;:al -^ \n hj"! fM'Nfl^ M« '" produce the most startling effects.

The .'>i:'>vvi r; crs.' reh) < d \)y .1 iiicdical man of high repute, and an intimate
friend of Sir \V' ua'( bcott, js, fierliaps, without exception one of the most re-
markable instaiH: y >f h;'!liicination ever recorded: —

HALLL'CINAI'IONS.

4^,?

eight

It was the fortune of this gentleman to be called in to attend the illness of a
person, who in his lifetime stood, higli in a particular department of the law,
which often placed the property of others at his chscrction and control, and
whose conduct, therefore, being open to pui)lic obs(;rvation, he had for many
years borne the character ot a man of unusual steadiness, good sense, and inte-
grity, lie was at the time of my friend's visits conlined princijially to his sick-
room, sometimes to bed, yet occasionally altendmg to business, and exerting his
mind, apparently with all its usual strength and energy, to the conduct of im-
portant affairs entrusted to him ; nor did there, to a superhcial observer, appear
anything in his conduct, while so engaged, that could argue vacillation of intellect
or depression of mind. His outward s}mptoms of malady argued no acute or
alarming disease. Hut slowness of pulse, absence of appetite, difficult)' of diges-
tion, and constant depression of spirits, seemed to draw their origin from some
hidden cause which the patient was deti^rmined to conc(.'al. The deep gloom of
the unfortunate gentleman — the embarrassment, whicli he could not conceal from
his friendly physician — the briefiiess and obvious constraint with which ha
answered the interrogations of his medical adviser, induced my friend to t'lke
other methods for prosecuting his inquiries. He applied to the suff(^rer's faiiiily,
to learn, if possible, the source of that secret grief which was gnawing th'.> iieart
and sucking the life-blood of his unfortunate patient. Tlie persons apfilied to,
after conversing together previousl}-, denied all knowledge of any cause for the
burthen which obviously affected their relative.

" The medical gentleman had finally recourse to serious argument with the
invalid himself, and urged to him the folly of devoting hiniself io a Iin;.,ering and
inelanclioly death. He specially press(>d upon him the injury wiiicli he was
doing to his own character, by suffering it to bc^ inferred that the secret cause
of his dejection and its conseciuences was something too scandalous or flagitious
to be made known, bequeathing in this man ' to his fai^.iily a suspected and
dishonored name. The patient more move )y this species of app. al than by
any which had yet been urged, expressed h desire to speak out frankly to Dr.

• . Every one else was removed, and t: door of the sick-room made secure,

when he began his confession in the follow, ng manner:

"'You cannot, my dear friend, be r c conscious than 1, that I am in the
course of dying under the oppression < 'he fatal disease which consumes my
vital powers ; but neither can you understand the nature of my complaint and
n;anner in which it acts upon me; nor, if \ )u did, I fear, could }our zeal and
skill avail to rid me of it.' ' It is possible,' said the physician, ' that my skill may
not equal my wish of serving you ; yet medical science has many resources, of
which those unac(piainted with its powe'' can never form an estimate. But
until you plainly tell me tlie SNinptoms of ^our complaint, it is impossible for
either of us to say what may or may not be in my power, or within that of rnedi-

464

GLIMl'SKS OV lilli UNSKKN.

cine.' ' I may answer )ou,' re[)lied the patient, ' that ni)' ease is not a singuhir
one, since we read of it in the lanious novel of Le Sajjje. \'ou remember, doubt-
less, the disease of which the Duke d'Olivarez is there stated to liave died?'
' ( )t the idea,' answered the medical oentleman, 'that he was haunted l)y an ap-
parition, to the actual existence of which he i^ave no credit, but died, neverthe-
less, because he was overcome and heart-broken by its imai^inary presence.' ' I,
my dearest doctor,' said the sick man, 'am in that verj- case ; and so painful and
abhorrent is the presence of the persecuting vision, that my reason is totally in-
adequate to combat the effect of my morbid imagination, and I am sensible I am
dying a wasted victim of imaginary disease.' The medical man listened with anxiety
to his patient's statement, and for the present judiciously avoiding any contradic-
tion of the sick man's preconceived fancy, contented himself with more minute
intjuiry into the nature of the apparition with which he conceived himself haunted,
and into the history of the mode by which so singular a disease had made itself
master of his imagination, secured, as it seemed, by strong powers of the under-
standing against an attack so irregular. The sick person replied by stating that
its advances were gradual, and at hrst not of a terrible, or even disagreeable,
character. To illustrate this, he gave the following account of the progress of
his disease :

" ' My visions,' he said, ' commenced two or three years since, when I found
myself from time to time embarrassed by the presence of a larj^e cat, which
came and disappeared I cou!d not exactly tell how. till the truth was finally
forced upon me, and I was compelled to regard it as no domestic household cat,
but a'^ i- bubble of the elements, which had no existence, save in my deranged
visual organs or depraved imagination. Still, as I am rather a friend of cats, I
was able to endure with much equanimity the presence of my imaginary attend-
ant, and it had become almost indifferent to me; when within the course of a
few months it gave place to, or was succeeded by, a spectre of a more important
sort, or which at least had a more imposing appearance. This was no other
than the a[iparition of a gentleman-usher, dressed as if to wait upon a Lord-
Lieuttiuint of Ireland, a Lord High Commissioner of the Kirk, or any otlier
who bears on his brow the rank and stamp of delegated sovereignty.

" This personage, arrayed in a court dress, with bag and sword, tambored
waistcoat, and cliapeaubras, glided beside me like the ghost of Beau Nash ; and
whether in m\- own house or in another, ascended the stairs before me, as ii to
announce me in the drawing-roorn ; and sometimes appeared to mingle with the
company, though it \\;is sufficiently evident that tluy were not aware of his
presence, and that I alone was sensible of the visioEary honors which this imagi-
nary being seemed dc^sirous to render me. Thi*. treak of the fancv did noi
produce much impression on me, though it led me to entertain d- -ubts on the
nature of my disorder, and alarm for the eftect it might produce u[Kjn my iniel-

HAI.LUCINAI IONS.

4 ^'5

lects. Bill lliuL modification of m\' disease also liad its appointed duration.
After a few months the phantom of the >,'entleman-usher was seen no more, but
was succeeded by one horrible to the si^Ou and di-tressinj^ to the ima<;iiiation,
being no otiier than the imaj^e of death itself the a|)j)arition of a skeleton.
Alone or in company,' said the unfortunate individual, ' tlu; i)rescnce of this last
phantom never cjuits me. I m vain tell myself a hundred times over that it is
no realit)', but merely an imasj;e summoned up by the morbid acuteness of my
own excited imagination, antl deranged origans of sight. Bui what avail such
reflections, while the emL>leni, an omen and presage of mortality, is before my ey(,'s,
and while I feel m\selt, though in tancy onl)-, the coniiianion ol a pliantom le-
pre^enting a ghastly inhai)iiant ot the grave, even while 1 yet bicailie on the
earth? Science, philosophy, even religion, has no cure for such a disorder;
and I feel loo surely that I shall (lit; the \icliin to si) me'laiuholv a disease,
although 1 have no beliet whatev(>r in ilie reality of the phantom which it places
before me.'

"The [iiixsician wa^ disliessed to [lerceive, from these details, how strongly
this visionary apparitum was fixed in the imagination of hu; patient, lie in^t-ni-
ously urged the sick man, who was then m bed, with (jue-^lions conceniiiig tlie
circumstanc(js ot the phantom's appearance, trusiing he might lead liiiu, as a
sensible man, into such coritradictic^" ■ and inconsistencies as might bring his
common .sense, which s( tnned to 1 - animpared, so strongly into the field as
might combat successfuiy the iantastic disorder which produced such fatal
effects. 'This skeleton, then,' said the doctor, ' seems to you to be alwavs
present to your eyes ?' It is my fate, unhappily,' answered the invalid, 'always
to see it.' 'Then I understand,' continued the plnsician, ' it is now {iresent to
your imagination ? ' ' To my imagination it certainly is so,' replied the sick man.
'And in what jiart of the chamber do you now conceive the app;irition to apjiear ?'
the physician inquired. ' Immediately at the foot of m}- bed, where the cur-
tains are left a little open,' answered the invalid ; ' the skeleton, to my thinking,
is placed between them, and fills the vacant space.' ' Vou say you aie sensible
of the delusion,' said his friend; 'have you firmness to convince yourself of the
truth of this ? Can you take courage enough to rise and place }'ourself in the
spot so seeming to be occupied, and convince yourself of the illusion ? ' The
poor man sighed, and shook his head negatively. ' Well,' said the doctor, ' we
will try the experiment otherwise.' Accordingly, he rose from his chair bv the
bedside, and placing himself between the two half drawn curtains at the foot of
the bed, indicated as the place occupied by the apparition, asked if the spectre
was still visible. ' Not entirely so,' replied the patient, ' because your person is
betwixt him and me ; but I observe his skull peering over your shoulder.'

*• It is alleged the man of science started on the instant, despite of philoso,
phy, on receiving an answer asserting, with such minuteness, tiiat the ideal

i<r

4()6

(;i.iMi'Si:s OK rill', lns|':i:n.

spectre was close to his own person. lie resorted to other mtiaiis of investiga-
tion and cure, hut with ecpiaUy indifferent success. The patient sunk into
deeper and deeper dejection, and died in the same distress of mind in wliich he
had spent the hitter months of his hfe ; and his case remains a melancholy
instance of th.e power of the imaj^qnatian to kill the body, even when its fantastic
terrors cannot overcome the intellect of the unfortunate jiersons who suffer them.
The patient, in the piesent case, sunk under his malady; and the circumstance
of his singular disorder remaining' concealed, he did not, by his death and last
illness, lose any of the well-merited reputation for prudence and saj^acity which
had attended him durinj; the whole course of his life."

The above '<rcount is taken from the Letters on Demunology and Witclicraft^
by Sir Walter Scott.

REMARKABLE CASK OF MR, NICOLAI.

"In the last ten months of the year 1790, I underwent several very severe
trials, which j^reatly agitated me. I'^rom the month of September in particular,
repeated shocks of misfortune had befallen me, which produced the deepest
sorrow. It had been usual lor me to lose blood by venesection twice a year.
Til.:, .vas (lone once on the gth of July, 1790, but towards the close of the year
It was omitted.

" In the first two months of the year 1791, I was much affected in my mind
by several incidents of a very disagreeable nature ; and on the 24th of February
a circumstance (occurred which irritated me extremely. At ten o'clock in the
forenoon my wife and another person came to console me ; I was in a violent
perturbation of mind, c.>..ing to a series of incidents which had altogether
wounded my moral feelings, and from which I saw no possibility of relief, when
suddenly I observed, at the distance of ten [uices from me, a figure — the figure
of a deceased person. I pointed at it, and asked my wife whetlier she did not
see It. She saw nothing, but bemg much alarmed, endeavored to compose me,
and sent for the physician. The hgure remained some seven or eight minutes,
and at length 1 became a little more calm ; and as I was extremely exhausted,
I soon afterwards fell into a troubled kind of slumber, which lasted for half an
hour.

" In the afternoon, a little after four o'clock, the figure which I had seen in
the morning again appeared. I was alone when this happened! — a circumstance
which, as may be easily conceived, could not be very agreeable. I went, there-
fore, to the apartment of my wife, to whom I related it. But thither also the
figure pursued me. Sometimes it was present, sometimes it vanished ; but it
was alwa)'s the same standing Hgure. A little after six o'clock several stalking
figures also appeared : but they had no connection with the standing hgure.

" After I had recover(;d from the first impression of terror, I never felt my-

IIALIICINAIION.^.

467

self particularly agitated by these apparitions, as I coiisiiU^red them to be what
they really were — the extraordinary consecjuences of indisposition ; on the con-
trary, I endeavored as much as possible to preserve my composure of mind, that
I mi_L;ht remain distinctly conscious of what passed within me. I could trace no
connection with the various I'lirures that thus appeareil and disappeared to my
sij^ht, either with my state of mind, or with my employment, and the other
thou^dits which enj^-aued my attention.

"The fij^ure of the deceased person never appeared to me after the first
dreadful da\' ; but several other hi^ures showed themselves afterwards very dis-
tinctly — sometimes such as 1 knew -mostly, however, of persons I did not know;
and amonjj^st those known to me were the semblances of both livinjr and d(;ceased
persons, but mostly the former ; and I made the observation that acquaintances
with whom I daily conversed never appeared to me as phantasms; it was always
such as were at a distance. I afterwards endeavored, at my own pleasure, to
call forth phantoms of several accpiaintances, whom I, for that reason, represented
to my imajT^ination in the most lively manner ; but in vain. For, however accur-
ately I pictured to my mind the fijrures of such perscMis, I never once could suc-
ceed in my desire of seeinjr them extcninlly, thouj^h I had some short time before
seen them as jjhantoms, and they had perhaps afterwards unexpectedly presented
themselves to me in the same manner. I was always able to distinguish with the
greatest precision phantasms from phenomena. I knew extremely well when it
only appeared to me that the door was opened, and a phantom entered, and when
the door was really opened, and any person came in.

" It is also to be noted that these figures appeared to me at all times, and
under the most different circumstances, equally distinct and clear. Whether I
was alone or in company, by broad day-light e([ually as in the night time, in my
own as well as in my neighbor's house ; yet when I was at another person's house
they were less frequent ; and when I walked the public street they seldom ap-
peared, When I shut my eyes sometimes the figures disappeared, sometimes
they remained even after I had closed them. If they vanished in the former case,
on opening my eyes again, nearly the same figures appeared which I had seen
before.

" For the most part, I saw human figures of both sexes : they commonly
passed to and fro, as if they had no connection with each other, like people at a
fair, where all is busde : sometimes they appeared to have business with one an-
other. Once or twice I saw amongst them persons on horseback, and dogs and
birds ; these figures all appeared to me in their natural size, and as distinctly as
if they had existed in real life, with the several tints on the uncovered parts of
their body, and with all the different kinds and colors of clothes. But I think,
however, that the colors were somewhat /)rj/r/- than they are in nature.

" About four weeks alterwards the numbers of the phantasms increased, and

468

C.I.IMI'SKS OV I'ME UNSEEN.

I bej^an to hear them s[)(;ak ; soinciinvs the phantasms spoke with one another^
but for the most part they adtlressecl thems(!lves to me : these sp(M;ches were in
general short, and never contained ansthiin;- disa}j^re(;able. Intellii^ent and re-
spected friends often ap

ired to me, wh(

d to

)lt

■ief,

lueavored
wliicli still lett Ueep traces on m\- mind.

" rhough at this time I (Mijoyed rather a jrood state of h(!alth, both in body
and mind, and had become so very familiar with these* phantasms, that at last
they did not excite the least disa<(reeable emotion, iK.'vertheless I endeavored to
rid myself of them b)' suitable remetlies. It was decided that leeches should be
applied to thtj anus. This was performed on the 20th of April, 1791. at eleve-n
o'clock in the forenoon. I was alone with the suriijeon, but duriniL;" tin; operation
the room swarmed with human forms of every description, which crowd<d last on
one another; this continued till half-past four o'clock, exactly the time when the
dijjestion commences. I then observed that the figures be^an to move more
slowly ; soon afterwards the colors became gradually paler, and at about half-
past six o'clock all the fi<^ures were entirely white; they moved very little. althouLjh
their forms a[)peared perfectly distinct. The tijj^ures did not move oil, neither
did they vanish, but in this instance they dissolved immediately into air; of some
even whole pieces remaineil for a leiii^th of time, which also by dejjjrees were; lost
to the eye. At about eight o'clock there did not remain a vestij^^e of any of them,
and 1 have never since experienced any appearance of the same kind.

'Twice or thrice since that time I have felt a propensity, if I may be so
allowed to express myself, or a s(;nsation as if 1 saw somethiuL;', which in a moment

agam was gone.

Along witli the preceding case we may place one that has been published
by l^ostock. " I was laboring," says this physiologist, "under a fever attended
with symptoms of general debility, especially of the nervous system, and with a
severe pain of the head, which was confined to a small spot situated above the
ri<j;ht temple. After having jiassed a sleepless night, and being reduced to a
slate of considerable exhausiioii, I first perceived figures presenting themselves
before me, which 1 immediately recognized as similar to those described by
Nicolai ; and upon which, as I \>as free from delirium, and as they were visible
for about three days and nij^hts, with little intermission, I was able to make my
observations. There were two circumstances which appeared to me very re-
markable : first, that the spectral appearances always followed the motion of the
eyes ; and secondly, that the objects which were the best dehned, and remained
the longest visible, were such as I had no recollection of ever having previously
seen. For about twenty-four hours I had constantly before me a human figure,
the features and dress of which were as distinctly visible as that of any real
existence, and of which, after an interval of many years, I still retain the most
lively impression ; yet, neither at the time nor since, have I been able to dis-
cover any person whom I had previously seen that resembled it.

llAI.I.ll INAI IONS.

469

" I)uiin;; oik; part of tliis disease, after the disappoaraiirr of this stationary
phantom, I had a vv.iy siii«i[ular and anuisin<j^ iina.Ljcry presented to me. It
aj)peared as if a number of ohjeets, principaliv human faces or ti«;un^s, on a
sniall scale, were phiced before me, and j^raduallv removed, hlc a succession
ol medillions. They were all of the s.imc; size, and appeared to In-, all situated
at the same distance from the tacc. After (Mu; had been seen for a f(.'W minutes
it became fainter, and then another, which was more vivid, seemed to be laid
upon it or sul)sti!uted in its ))lace, which in its turn was supt:rseded !))■ a new
appe.iiance, Durini,^ all this succession of scenery, I do not recollect that, in a
simple instance, 1 saw any object with which I had been previously acquainted ;
nor, as lar as I am aware, were the rejirescntations oi any of those objects, with
whicji m\- mind was the most occui)ied at other times, presented to me ; they
ap[>eare(l to be invariably new creations, or at least new combinations, of which
I could not trace the orij^inal materials."

" ' If it IS asked,* adds Conollv, ' how it was that Nicolai and the lCn<^lish
phxsielonist did not lose their reason,' the ready answer will be, ' the\- never
believed in the reality of these visions,' But wh\' did they not ? And why
does the madman believe in their exist(mce ? The evidence to both is the same
— the plain eN'idence ui sense. No evidence, one would think, could be better.
Were not Nicolai and Dr. Bostock rather to be called mad lor not believing
their senses than others who do ? The exi)lanatioii must be this: The printer
of Pxrliii, and the ph)sician in London, retained the power of comi)arison : they
Compared certain objects represcmted to their slight with other objects represent-
ed to the same sense, and concluded that so many persons as they represented
to them could not pass throu,!jfh their chamber; they compared with those
actually i")resent, and whose inattention to the spectres tlu^y concluded to be a
}iroof of their non-existence to their eyes; they compared the visual objects of
delusion with the impression of other senses of hearing and of touch, and accpiir-
ed further evidence that th(; whole was deception. This is exactly what madmen
cannot do."

Hallucinations uncorrected by the judgment may exist in a sound state of
the intellect. Many great men have believed in the existence of their star, or
their guardian spirit, and hence they have not been unprepared to witness the
app(;arance of miraculous apparitions. The distinctive charact(;r of these halluc-
inations is, that they do not [)rejudice the conduct, and the individual may main-
tain in the world a high reputation for virtue, ability, and wisdom ; often, indeed,
we l)elieve they have served as an additional stimulus to the individual in carry-
ing out the projects he had previously conceived.

In 1800, General Rapp, on his return from the siege of Dantxic, having
occasion to speak to the Emperor, entered his cabinet without being announced.
He found him in such profound meditation that his entrance was not noticed.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

,.*

1.0

I.I

L8.

IL25 i 1.4

fflj&

1.6

Hiotographic

Sdences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 873-4503

"^^

470

GLIMl'SKS OF THK UNSKEN.

The g^eiiL'-al, seeing that he did not move, was afraid he might be indisposed, and
purposely made a noise. Napoleon immediately turned round, and seizing Rapp
by the arm, pointed to the heavens, saying, " Do you see that? " The general
made no reply ; being interrogated a second time, he answered that he perceived
nothing. "What!' responded the emperor, "you did not discover it? It is
my star, it is immediately in front of you, most brilliant ; " and becoming grad-
ually more excited, he exclaimed, " It has never abandoned me ; I behold it on
all great occasions ; it commands me to advance, and that to me is a sure sign of
success." M. Passy, who had this anecdote from Rapp himself, related it at the
meeting of the Academic des Sciences Morale et Politique, on the 4th of April,
1846.

It would be easy to mention many examples of illustrious men who have been
subject to hallucinations of this kind, without their having in any way influenced
their conduct.

Thus, Malbranche declared he heard the voice of God distinctly within him.
Descartes, after long confinement, was followed by an invisible person, calling
upon him to pursue the search of truth.

Byro'.i occasionally fancied he was visited by a spectre, which he confesses
was but the efTect of an over-stimulated brain.

The celebrated Dr. Johnson said that he distinctly heard his mother's voice
call " Samuel." This was at a time when she was residing a long way off.

Pope, who suffered much from intestinal disease, one day asked his medical
man what the arm was which seemed to come out of the wall.

Goethe positively asserts that he one day saw the exact counterpart of him-
self coming towards him (Ginvrcs Coinp/lics, t. xxvi. p. 83). The German psycho-
logists give the name of Deutcroscopia to this species of illusion.

" A youth of eighteen, having no tendency to enthusiasm or romance, and
with an entire absence of sujierstition, was residing at Ramsgate for the benefit
of his health. In a ramble to one of the neighboring villaf^es, he happened to
go into a church towards the close of the day, and was struck aghast by the
spectre of his mother, who had died some months before of a j^ainful and ling-
ering disease, an object of great compassion and commiseration. The figure
stood between him and the wall, and remained for a considerable time without
motion. Almost fainting, he hastened home ; and the same spectre appearing
to him in his own room for several successive evenings, he felt (juite ill from the
agitation, and hastened off to Pans to join his father, who was living there.
At the same lime he determined to say nothing of the vision, lest he should
add to the distress already weighing him down, from the loss of a tender and
attectionate wife, the object of his unbounded love.

" Being compelled to sleep in the same room with his father, he was sur-
prised to observe that a light was kept burning all the night, and for which

IIALLUCIN.VIIONS.

47>

there had always been previously a <:;reat dislike. After several liours of watch-
fulness from the effect of the lif^ht, the son ventured out oT bed to e\tin<;uish it.
His fatiier soon after woke up in great agitation, and commanded him to relight
it, which he did, much wondering at the anger displayed and the marks ot
terror on his father's countenance. On asking the reason of the alarm, he was
put off by some vague excuse, and told at some future time he would be
informed of it.

*' A week or more had elapsed, when, tinding his own rest so very much
disturbed by the light, he once more, when his faiher appeared in a sound
sleep, \entured to extinguish it ; but the father almost immediately jumpetl
out of bed in the greatest trepidation, remonstrated with him on his disobedience,
re-lighted the lamp, and told him that whenever he was left in the dark the spectre
of his deceased wife appeared to him, and remained immovable till he could
again obtain a light, when it disajipeared.

" This made a strong impression on the boy's mind ; and fearing to aggra-
vate his father's grief should he relate the Ramsgate adventure, he soon after
left Paris, and went to an inland town about sixty mile: off, to visit his brother,
who was at school there, and to whom he had not communicated what had
occurred lo himself, for fear ot ridicule. He had scarcely entered the house
and exchanged the usual salutations, when the son of the school-master said to
him : ' Has your bro Her ever shown any signs of insanity ? lor he has behaved
very strangely lately. He came down stairs the other night in his shirt, in the
greatest alarm, declared he had seen his mother's ghost, and dared not go into
his room again, and then fainted away from excess of terror.' "

" Had there been a coincidence in point of time," adds Dr. W'igan, "how
would this have seemed to corroborate the superstitious |)elief that the spirits
of the dead return to the earth ? " This argument does not seem to us so
irresistible as to Dr. Wigan ; for in the case of the Karl of Chesterfield, the
vision did occur at the same time. With respect to the vision apjiearing to
three different people, it may be explained by the strong affection which they
had for the deceased, by her dving under the most distressing circumstances,
and from the fact that " each of the family had the jiower of forming a voluntary
image of any object at will on shutting the eyes, and that each could draw
from memory a representation of it, more or less accurate."*

" It is certain," says ar eminent writer, " that a wide distinction should be
made between those cerebral derangements which exclusively affect the s(Mises,
and those which affect the imderstanding. There are persons who, haunted by
voices or images, are fully aware that they are the dupes of their imagination.
What then occurs in these cases ? A certam operation takes place spontaneously
in the brain, an operation which usually results from a physical sensation. Hut

•Wigans : Opus cii. \i. 167.

47-^

(; I, I MPS lis OF THK UNSKl'.N.

it g-oes no further, and the remainder of the brain continues to perform its func-
tions in a normal manner. If there is insanity in this, it is altO(]^ether a partial
insanity, and the mind, properly so called, is unaffected. It mi<jht be termed
insanity of tlic sensations. The other individuals do not judge correctly of their
hallucinations; the}- believe in the reality of the sensations they jierceive, at
th(^ same time they explain them by referring them to supernatural causes, to
the intervention of a superior power, etc. In otiier respects their conduct is
perfectly sensible. In our opinion these peisons are no more insane than the
liist. Considering such matters from a different point ot view, they judge
di!lcrently of the sensations they had experienced; they draw other conclusions
from them, but the disturbance has not passed beyond the sphere of their sen-
sational (acuities. In order that the derangement should be real and confirmed,
that it should deser\-e the name of insanity, so as to accord with the etymology
of the word, the intellect must be more or less defective, and the individual
no longer master of his judgment or his will."

Among the haliucmations which co-exist in connection with some degree
of insanity we may mention first those of hearing. Sometimes the hallucinated
hears a voice whispering strange words in his ears, and of advice, warning or
command. It is mostly in the night, on waking, or in gloomy places that these
voices of the invisible are heard. It is said that the hnllucinations of hearing
are greater than those of any other sense, numbering two-thirds of all that occur.

Esquirol, in his work on Mental Diseases gives the following case :

" M. N., aged fifty-one, was the governor, in 1812, ot a large town in Ger-
many, which rose against the French army during its retreat. The disturbances
which followed these events unsettled the mind of the governor; he believed he
was accused of high treason, and was therefore dishonored. Under these
ciicunistances, he cut his throat with a razor ; when he recovered his senses,
he luard voices accusing him. Cured of his wound, the voices still pursued
him ; he imagined he was surrounded by spies and denounced by his enemies.
The voices repeated to him, day and night, that he had b';trayed his trust, that
he was dishonored, and that he h.ad no alternative but to destroy himself. Ihey
successively addressed him in all the European languages with which he
was acquainted ; one was heard less distinctly than the rest, because it made
use of Russian, which M. N. spoke with less facility than the other languages.
In the midst of these different voices, the invalid readily distinguished that ot
a lady, who bade him take courage, and have confidence.

" i\I. N. would often retire into privacy to converse more readily with the
Voices ; he would question and answer them, he would use words of dehance^
and become enraged in addressing the persons he believed he was conversmg
with ; he was convinced that his enemies, by various means, could divine his
most secret thoughts, convey to him reproaches, menaces and evil counsels,

HALLUC:i\Ari()NS

473

with which they ovcrwhehned liiin. (Jii all othor jioints, his rcasonino; was per-
fectly collect, for his intellect was souiul.

'' M. N. passed the summer of 1812 at this chateau, where he kept open

louse.

If the conversation interested iiim, he no lon'^u.-r heard the voices, but
if it i-latkcned, he perceived them imperfectly, and would then leave the corn-

pa 1

IV, in order to listen to the voices, lie now hecanu; anxious and disturbed.

In tl

le toUowinj^j autumn he came to Paris. The same symptoms beset him

durinj4 the journey, and tormented hiin after his arrival. The voices continually
repeated: ' Kill yourself ; you cannot survive your honor.' ' No, No !' replied
the sufferer, ' I will terminate my existence when I have been justified ; I will
not becjueath a dishonored name to my daughter.'

" Placed in my charge," says Esquirol, " the invalid kept his room, but did
not communicate his secret to me. At the end of two months he seemed
anxious I should prolong my visits. I advised him to call the voices which
tormented him babblers. This word succeeded, and, when the\- came, he made
use ot it to desif];nate their horrible importunity. I ventured to sjieak to him of
his disease and the object of his residence at Paris. He then detailed to me
all he had suffered; he listened more attentively to my arguments, discussed
my obji.'ctions, and disputed my opinion as to the cause of the voices; he re-
minded me that at that time they were cxhibitinL;; in Paris tlie so-called invisible
women, who, when spoken to, replied from a distance. 'Science,' he said, ' has
made such progress, that, by means of machines, they can transmit the voice to
a j^reat distance.'

'• ' You have posted one hundred leagues over a common road ; the noise
of your carriage ought to have hindered voiir babblers from oeing heard.'

" ' Certainly ; but by means of their contrivances, I hear them very
distinctly.'

"The political news of the approach of the foreign armies upon Paris he
I gaided as- so many tales invented for the purpose of betraying him into an
expression of his opinions. Some time after the siege of Paris had taken jilace
the }>atient was satisfied that it was no battle, but only a review. He believed
that newspapers had been printed expressly to deceive him. On the 15th of
April he suddenly said to me : ' Let us go out.' It so happened that, at the
time we 1 cached the Jardin de Plantes, there was a large number of soldiers
wearing the various uniforms of their different nations. We had scarcely gone
a hundred steps, when M. N. seized me sharply by the arm, saying: ' Let us
return — I have seen enough ; you have not deceived me. I have been ill, but
I am cured.'

" From that moment the babblers were silent, or only heard in the morning,
soon after waking. My convalescent amused himself with short conversations,
with reading and walking. He now took the same view ot his symptoms as I

474

(ILl.Ml'SKS 1)1- IHK UNSEKN.

did. He refrarded them as a nervous phenomenon, and expressed his surprise
that he should have been tlie dupe of them so long. He consented to the ap[)H-
cation of some leeches, to use loot-baths, and to take a course of purgative
mineral waters. In the mont!^ of May he resided in the country, where he
enjoyed perfect health, in spite of various troubles he had met with, and although
he had the misfortune to lose his only daughter. M. N. returned to his own
country in 1815, where he held office in the Government.

" This case offers the most simple example of a hallucination of the organ
of hearing that I have met with. The halucination was the only evidence of
cerebral disease, and was the sole cause of all the annoyances, threats and lears
which had to. iiented the patient for more than two months, and that notwith
standing he had entirely recovered his hearing. Was habit the cause ot this
continuance ? "

Hallucinations of sight are next in number and importance. To these is
generally applied the term vision and the person affected by them is styled
visionary.

Harrington, author of Oceana, " was observed to discourse of most things
as rationally as any man except his own distemper, fancying strange thini^s in
the operation of his animal spirits, which he thought to transpire from him in
the shape of birds, of fiies, of bees, or the like : and those about him reported
that he talked much of good and evil spirits, which made them have frightful
apprehensions. He used sometimes to argue so strenuously that this was no
depraved imagination, that his doctor was often put to his shifts for an answer.
He would on such occasions compare himself to Democritus, who, for his
admirable discoveries in anat(.)my, was reckoned distracted by his fellow-citizens,
till Hippocrates cured them of their mistake.

One of the strongest arguments against the images in hallucinations being
external to the individual is when there is weakness or loss of sight. Esquirol
and M. Lelut have quoted several examples of this. It is, of course, undeniable
that in total blindness the hallucinations must be seated in the brain.

An old man, who died at more than eighty years of age, never sat down to
table during the latter part of his life without fancying himself surrounded by a
number of boon companions whom he had known hfty years previously. This
octogenarian had onlv very feeble sight with one eye, over which also he wore a
green shade. Every now and then he saw his own image in front of him, which
seemed to be reflected by the green shade.

Dr. Dewar, of Stirling, related to Dr. Abercrombie a very remarkable
instance of this kind of hallucination. " It occurred in a lady who was quite
blind, her eyes being also disorganized and sunk. She never walked out without
seeing a little old woman with a red cloak and crutch, who seemed to walk
before her. She had no illusions when within doors."

HALLUCINATIONS.

475

In the asylum in the Faubourg St. Antoine there was an old lady, eighty
years of age, who had been blind for many years. Every morning she had the
door and windows of her apartment set wide open, to allow a number of persons
to pass out who filled the room, and whose dresses and ornaments she could
perfectly distinguish.

A lunatic was in the habit of seeing, to the r^glit of him, near the wall of his
cell, a number ot beautiful women, whom he would sometimes address with in-
sults, sometimes with compliments. This man was blind, and after his death
M. Calmeil found there was atrophy of both the ojitic nerves.

Hallucinations of hearing and of sight are often combined, as in the follow
ing case, which occurred in Bedlam :

Some years back there was in the hospital at Bedlam a lunatic of the name
of Blake, who was called the Svcr. This man hrmly believed in the reality of
his visions : he would converse with the angel Michael, chat with Moses, and
dine with Semiramis. There was notiiing of the imposter about him ; he seemed
to be thoroughly in earnest. The dark portals of the past were opened to him,
and the world of spirits crowded around him. All that had l)elonged to the
great, the wonderful, and the celebrated came into the presence of Blake.

This man constituted himself the painter of spirits. On the table before
him were pencils and brushes ready for his use, that he might depict the coun-
tenances and attitudes of his heroes, wiiom he said he did not summon before
him, but who came of their own accord, and entreated him to take their por-
traits. Visitors might examine larire volumes hlied with these drawings :
amongst others were the portraits of the devil and his mother. " When I entered
his cell," says the author of this notice, " he was drawing the likeness of a girl
whose spectre he pretended had appeared to him.

" Edward III. was one of his most constant visitors, and in acknowledg-
ment of the monarch's condescension, Blake had drawn his portrait in oils in
three sittings. I put such questions as were likely to have embarrassed him ;
but he answered them in the most unaffected manner, and without any hesita-
tion.

*' ' Do these persons have themselves announced, or do they send in their
cards ?' * No ; but I recognize them when they apjiear. I did not expect to see
Marc Antony last night, but I knew the Roman the moment he set foot in my
house.' * At what hour do these illustrious dead visit you ?' * At one o'clock :
sometimes their visits are long, sometimes short. The day before yesterday I
saw the unfortunate Job, but he would not stay more than two minutes ; I had
hardly time to make a sketch of him, which I afterwards engraved — but silence !
Here is Richard III.!' ' Where do you see him ?' ' Opposite to you, on the
other side of the table: it is his first visit.' 'How do you know his name ?'
* My spirit recognizes him, but I cannot tell you how.' ' What is he like ?'

47''

(•.i,iMi'si;s OF iHi'. IN' ^i:i:\

'Stem, but iiaiidsonio : at prL'sent I oiiU- scij his protile ; now I have tlie thr(;e-
quarter face; ah I ikhv he turns to inc, he is terriMe to behold.' ' Could you
ask him aiiv (juestions ?' ' C(>rtainly. What would you like ine to ask him ?' • If
he pretends to justif\- the murders he eommittcd during,' his life ?' ' Your (jues-
tioii is already known to bun. We converse mind to mind by intuition and by
mai,Mietism. We ha\-e no need of words.' 'What is his majesty's reply?'
" 'This ; only it is somewhat lon.Ljer than he «;ave it to me, for \()u wcnild not
undc^rstand the lanL;ua>;e of spirits, lie >a\s what you call murder and carnage
1- all noihini; ; that in siau^diteii il; fiiteen or twenty thousand men you do no
wrong; for what is immortal of them is not onh' preserved, but passes into a
better \vt)rld, and the man who re]>roaches his assassin is guilty of ingratitude,
lor it is l.)y his means he enters into a happier and more perfect state of exist-
ence. But do not intiMupt me ; he is now in a ver)' good position, and if you
say anything more, he will go.'

" Blake is a tall m.iii, pale, speaks well, and soinetimes eloiiuently: he is
not deheii-nt in talent as an engraver and artist."*

Among the hallucinations of touch, smell and taste, we may cite the follow-
ing as illustrations :

Haslam, ia his " Illustrations of Madness," tells of a certain Mathews who
believed that in some ajxirtment near London Wall there was a gang ol villains
j>rofouncily skilled in pneumatic chemistr)', who assailed him by me<ins ot what
he termed an air-loom. He gave a ver\- absurd account of the seven persons
who composed the gang, and even invented names for the torments he imagined
they inflicted upon him. .Amongst other things, they would constrict the fibre
of his tongue lateralK-, by which the readiness of speech was hindered: they
would spread a magnetic warp beneath his brain, so that the sentiments of the
heart could have no communication with the operations of the intellect. Mathews
believed they could at pleasure produce a jirecipitation in the bladder of any
person, and torm a calculus; that they could make the organ of hearing appear
to be seated in the thigh ; that by means of the air-loom and magnetic impreg-
nations, they could introduce into the brain some particular idea ; that they
could violently force Huids into the head, elonj^ate the brain and many other
things ecjually absurd. Mathews even made a plan of the room wliere he believed
these persons resided, and diew the whole of the apjiaratus which he imagined
they used in their various operations. He said that they had several of their
machines in different places, and that many other persons were subject to their
influence beside himself.

M. Calmiel relates the case of an old soldier, who every night felt himself
nailed down in a coflin, and then carried on men's shoulders, by a subterranean
passage, from Charenton to Vincennes, where a mass for the dead was chanted

Kevuc Hritanni(iue, p. lt)4. Jnillcl, l82j.

HAM.UCINA'IIONS.

477

over him in the chajiol of the castle. The same iiivisiWle jicrsons carried him
back and (U'l^ositcd liiin in his bed.

Tlic sensation of :l.in^ is by no means uncomnKm. X'ery often, when
dreaminj;, we feel wc are carried alon«; with the j^reatt-st rapidity, houndiiijj; over
long nitervals, or skimminj; over the surface of tiu; "ground. St. jc^romc relates,
that in his dreams he ollcn felt as if he was ilyini^over the earth, over inountanis
and seas.

Madame Ainiiu, the fiii-nd of (ioethe, speaknii; of this sensati )n, said, " I
felt certain th.at I was IIviiil; .uhI Poarinj^ in the an". The slii^hlest toiirh with
the point ol in\- foot, aiul 1 hoiiiuied upwards. 1 hi'vered silently .ind deliLjIilrd
at thi: distance of two (^r ihue feet from the «.(roun(l ; I (IcMUMulcd ; ajrain I fo^r ;
I flew trom side to i^idc, aiul then I recovered m\s(;ll. A lew diys atlei I was
attacked with fever."

Lunatics who experience lialhicinalions of smell coniplain that they aie
surroundi'd by fetid and (lis, ii;r((al)l(' odors, or imai^ine tlie\- are bre.ilhin^' ilui
most delicious sctMits, although no odorous bodies arc; neai- them ; some ol them
before their illness ha\'e even Ixmii deprived of the seiisr of smell. A lunatic
declared there were ctllais beneath llu; Salpelricre Hospital, where thes' li.id
sl.iuj^htert.'d a number of men and women, and that ever\' day she perceived a
most hornl)le .smell from the putrilxiiij^ bodu's. We had in our (.'stablishment
a lady who, alter at.temj)tin^' to siillocate herself, ctJinplained that c'Ver\thin,t; was
tainted with the smell of cliarc:oal ; she siulled her nostrils, smelt vine<^'ar, but
still the same odor accompanied her e\er)where. M. Ms(juirol has reported a
fcimilar casi.

//cil/iicu/cit ions of /(isle nic noi \]\{yiC Ci)\nu]on than the jireceding. The in-
valids, especially those who are in the lirst sla^t; of dementia with general
paralysis, will express their satisfaction at the excellent rejiast they have made,
praise the flavor of the dishes, the aroma of the wine, yet all the time the}' have
eaten nothing. One lady, who has been remarkabk* for her intelligence, passt!s
her days in tasting imaginar\' dishes. Sometimes these impressions are of a
distressing nature. One will believe he is eating raw llesli, biting arsenic, or
devouring earth ; sulphur and flames surround his mouth ; whilst another im-
agmes he is swallowing nectar and ambrosia.

Esquirol has pointed out the chief difference between an illusion and a
hallucination and it is in this fact : In the illusion there is an external object
mistaken it is true for something else, m the hallucination there is no external
object. A man aflirms that your figure is that of a cat, of Napoleon, or of
some well-known orator ; he sees armies fighting in the clouds or angels blowing
trumpets. This man is under illusion. But, if in the stillness of the night he
hears voices speaking to him, or if in profound darkness he sees persons whom
no one else can discern, then he is under hallucination.

478

liLlMl'SKS OK lllli UNSKKN.

At certain times a «,Mant slions himself on the summit of the Brorken (the
loftiest of tlie Hart/ Mountains), to the astonishment of tlie inhabitants and of
travelers. This prodipry had been for many years the source of the most mar-
velous tales, when M. Haue, who was desirous of e.\aminin«]; into the matter,
was fortunate enouj^di to witness it. While he was iookinij at the f;iant, his hat
was almost carried away by a violent gust of wind ; he suddenly raised his hand
to his head to protect his hat, and the colossal fi;^'ure did the saine ; he immedi-
ately made another movement bv bending his body, an action which was repeated
by the spectral figure. M. Haue then called the landlord o( the inn to partici-
pate in iiis discovery, when they jointly repeated his experiments, with the same
results. The wonder was thus solved, and was found to be an optical phenom-
enon. When the rising sun (and, according to analog}', the case will be the
same at the setting sun) throws his rays over the Bn^cken upon the body of a
man standing opposite to fine light clouds, Hoating around or hovering p .st him^
he needs only to fix his eyes steadfastly upon them, and, in all probability, he
will see the singular spectacle of his own shadow extending to the length of five
or six hundred feet, at the distance of about two miles before him.

Brewster, in the work already referred to, has related similar phenomena
as occurring in Westinoreland and other mountainous countries. Troops of
cavaliers, armies marching backwards and forwards, have been seen in the air,
arising from the reflection of horses and peaceful travelers who were placed on
the opposite mountains.

King Theodoric, blinded by jealousy, and yielding to the evil suggestions
of his courtesans, ordered the senator Lymmachus, one of the most virtuous
men of his time, to be put to death. Scarcely was this cruel order executed,
wiien the king was seized with remorse, and perpetually reproached himself with
his crime. One da}^ a new kind of fish was placed upon his table, when he
suddenly uttered a cry of alarm, for the head of the fish appeared to him like
that of the unlortunate L}'mmachus. This vision plunged hmi into a deep
inelanciioly, which lasted for the remainder of his life.

Be>sus, surrounded by his guests, and giving himself up to the pleasures of
the feast, ceased to pay attention to his flatterers. He listened attentively to a
conversation that no one else heard, when suddenly, in a transport of rage, he
rushed from his couch, seizetl his sword, and running to the nest of some swal-
lows, he struck the poor birds, and killod them. " Imagine," he said, '* the
insolence of those birds, which dared to leproach me with the murder of my
father!" Surprised at this sight, the parasites slunk away. Some time after
it was known that Bessus was really guilty, and that this action arose from the
reproaches of his conscience.

Histor}' has recorded numerous instances in which illusions of sight and
hearing have occurr(>d in the form of an epidemic. One of the most familiar

, I

HALl.Ll INAI IONS.

479

; I

examples of this is where clouds are converted into armies and various kinds of
tii;ures. Relij^ious opinions, optical phenomena, physical laws — at the time
unknown — severe fevers, pestilences, or disorders ot the brain, may each, at
times, afford a natural explanation of these occurrences.

At the battle of IMatea the air resounded with a fearful cry, which the
Athenians attributed to the god Pan. The Persians were so alarmed at it they
fled. The word panic is said to be derived from this circumstance. Pliny says
that during the war of the Romans against the Cimbri, they were alarmed by the
noise of arms and the sound of trumpets, which seemed to come from the heavens.
Plutarch declares that Coriolanus, during his battle with Tarquin, saw Castor
and Pollux mounted on white horses, fighting valiantly in the foremost ranks and
that they instantly carried the news of the victory to Rome. A few days after
the feast of the Passover, says P'lavius Josephus, on the 27th of May, a certain
prodigious and incredible phenomenon appeared. I suppose the account of it
would seem to be a fable were it not related by those who saw it, and were not
the events that followed it of so considerablea nature as to deserve such siji;nals ;
for before sun setting, chariots and troops of soldiers in their armor were seen
running about among the clouds, and surrounding cities. Moreover at the feast
which ve call Pentecost, as the j)riests were going by night into the inner court
of the temple, as their custom was, to perform their several ministrations, they
said that, in the first place, they felt a quaking, and heard a great noise ; and
after that they heard a sound as of a great multitude saying, " Let us remove
hence."

" Even in the field of battle," says Walter Scott, " and amid the mortal
tug of combat itself, strong belief has wrought the same wonder which we have
hitherto mentioned as occurring in solitude and amid darkness ; and those who
were themselves on the verge of the world of spirits, or employed in dispatching
others to these gloomy regions, conceived they beheld the apparition of those
bem^s whom their national mythology associated with such scenes. In such
moments of undecided battle, amid the violence, hurry, and confusion of ideas
inculent to the situation, the ancients supposed that they saw their deities."
And in the same way, in aftertimes, the Christian warrior beheld an image of his
tutelar saint.

It may be asked how a multitude of persons could be the dupes of the same
illusion. Besides the reasons we have already given, and amongst which ignor-
ance, fear, superstition and disease are conspicuous, the contagious influence of
example must not be forgotten ; a single cry suffices to alarm a multitude. An
individual, who believes he has seen a supernatural appearance, speedily com-
municates his conviction to others not more enlightened than himself. How
often has the story been cited of the man who contemplated the statue, and
cried out that it bent its head, while those around positively affirmed that they

GLIMI'SKS OF THE UNSKKN.

Raw it move! Another motive has hw.n the utility whicli j^overnments liave
found in promoting; these opinions ; so that there is no ch)uhi they liavc lre(]U(MUly
resulted from artifice. In examinini: the ruins ol Hadrian's Villa, in iht- ncij^h-
borhood of Tivoli, we observed in the Temple of Canopus the remains of lon^'
tuhes, which served to convey the answers of the oracle.

According,' to Escjuirol, out of every hundred lunatics, eip[hty are more or
less afHicted with hallucinations. Th<'y are most fretpR'ut in monomania. In
mt'iancholia, some individuals will maintain unbroken silence lor years, and the
secret hallucmation only hecomt; revealed by chance. Tiie more extravauani
and sinjnjular the action of the indiviilual, tlu; more rea>on to suspect some
hallucination or illusion.

Marc says : '• I have seen in the asylum of Dr. I'ressat, a man advanced in
years and affected with melancholy from reverse of fortune. For many years
he had never spoken a word. His sole occupation consisted in smellmv and
licking the walls of his apartment and the sill of his door, he would continue
this for hours toj;ether, without our bein^ able to explain the reason ol such a
singular and laborious act, whose frequency and duration had made several deep
impressions on the plaster ol the room. Durini; my visits 1 had often (jucstioned
him, but in vain, as to his motives lor such comluci, when one day, pretending
not to notice him, I asked the attendant how all these dirty spots had come ujion
the wall. To our great surprise, the invalid broke through his long silence, and
said, ' Do you call those dirty spots and excavations ? Do you not perceive they
are oranges from Japan? What delicious fruit the\ are; wiiat a ct)lor, what a
perfume, what an excellent flavor they have ! ' .\nd he continued to smell and
lick them with increased eagerness. Thus, then, all was explained, and the poor
hallucinated, whom I had hitherto pitied as the most unfortunate of mankind,
on the contrary, was happy, since the most agreeable hallucinations of the senses,
of sight, of smell and of taste provided him with pe-rpetual pleasure."

Hallucinations as to intercourse with demons are far more rare to-day than
formerly. Hallucinations of this kind now generally assume the form of angels
or of men gifted with all the charms which the imagination can bestow upon
them. The following examples are given by De Boismont :

Example i. Madame B. is persuaded she is about to be married to a man
of biith and influence, who has all her sympathies. Possessed with this idea,
she is oblivious of her real husband. Eivery night, she tells me, she receives a
visit from the angel Raphael, a beautiful, fair young man, with a pale complexion,
clothed in black, and who speaks to her in the most gracious manner.

Example 2. Mademoiselle Z., aged seventeen, was brought to or.r establish-
ment on account of a mental derangement caused b)- love. The first symptoms
had shown themselves three days previously. Her countenance expressed a
joyous excitement. Her lover never quits her ; he follows her everywhere, and

HAM-UCIN.\IU)NS.

481

calls her by the iiiuhl endoariiij; nuiiu-s. When he )j;()(:s away, sho throws lursi-ll
on her Uiiccs, asks his pardon, and entreats liic i)t to reduce her 10 despair.
She sees liini hi the eh»uds, crowned with roses, and from whence he r«jf.irds her
with looks ot tenderness. One of the most interesting^ scenes we ever witnessed
was her sin^'inj^ to her lover the ballad ol La Fulle. Such was the attrailion,
that lunatics who had been m our house lo'- more lii.in ten years, would ^^atlier
round her, and lisi<!n lo her with in. irked d<lii;hi.

To show his a ffet lion, this i(l( al lover l)rou;.;ht her boutpu.'ts of tlowers, and
surrounded her with delicious peifunus. "See tliese ros(;s," slic would sas',
" what a tUilicious pe-rtume they «,'ive ; the room is filled with ii." The ihouj^hts
of Mademoiselle /. were so coiicenlrat<!(l on one object, chat it w.is ^cauu'ly
possible to obtain even a few words from her. Her excitement rai)iilly diminished :
she still heard the voice oi iier lover ; but her reason was soon restored, and at
the end of eij^dit days all lier symptoms disappeared.

The followin<; illustrations of hallucination in dementia, are j^iveii in De
Boismont's work, from which we are makinj^ numerous (juotations :

" MadiMuoiselle C, aj^ed sevent}-two, never showed any symptoms of
derani^iMiient until her seventy-lirst year. Instead ol leading; a sedeiuary life,
accordinj; to her usual habits, ^he was continually chanj^inj,' her residence and
traveling about, ller tamily could not persuade her to remain in one place, and
she was therefore placed under my charge. This lady believed that some dis-
honest person had possessed himself ot her papers, and had committed forgeries
jn order to obtain possession ot her property. She likewise t ccused three other
persons of beinfT in lea<^ue with him. Her conversation was unconnected, and
her memory defective ; but frecjuently she would converse in a rational manner,
and these lucid intervals would last for days.

"On questionin<; this lady, we learned that for some months, durin<f the ni|L,dit,
she had seen persons in her bed-room, who conversed in a w ly she could not
understand, and disturbed her rest, ' When I resided in the C3untry,' she said,
'I was accompanied by persons of importance; sometimes they disapixared,
then again they would be riding in cabriolets. Very often I met an attendant
belonging to the chateau, who made his appearance as soon as I stepped into
\.\-2 street, and whose duty it was to protect me.'

"During her examination she spoke rationally, and the magistrates would
have been exceedingly puzzled, if she had not alluded to die forgeries. When
they were gone, she assured me it was a plot, for they were persons in disguise
whom she had recognized.

" Some days this lady, who still remembered the events of her past life, and
gave reasonable answers to the questions which were put to her, became com-
pletely deranged ; she believed the king had granted her a pension, and insisted
she was only imprisoned in my house for the purpose of depriving her of her

482

GLIMPSKS OF IHli UNSKKN.

property. During the nij^lit she wouhl often converse with imaj^inary persons;
sometimes she answered tliem in a respectful or friendly manner, while at other
times she would insult them. One mornin;^ she assured me that an inmate,
Madame D., had come to her in the middle of the mj^'lu (each person is fastened
in a sejiarate ajiartment) to say she was the Goddess of Insanity, and that she
had proclaimed this throu^diout the country. She tlieii champed the suhject,
and pretended she was drawm<; a likeness of Destinv, that she was Madame
Georj^es, that I ouj^jht to allow her to «;(> out lo counteract the forgeries. All
these communications were mad'e in a low and confidential tone of Noice, lest
the ima|Lj;inar\' persons should overhear them.

"The state oi Mademoiselle C. remained the sanu' for two years; she always
believed she was the victim of others. Nearly ever\- (ia\- she asked me to allow
her to go out to attend her church ; but her intention was to escape. This lady
died at eighty years of age, retaining considerable firmness of character, but
subject to the same hallucinations without the dementia having increased."

" Madame , aged sixiy-five, belonged to a literary family, and has her-
self been distinguished by her writings. At the present time her conversation is
unconnected, her speech hesitating, and her memory gone ; but in the midst of
this total wreck, the idea that she had been a poetess still survives. Every
morning she tells me, in a voice full of emotio!!, that she has been visited by an
angel clothed in white, who spoke to her. During the day she said to me, ' My
angel spoke to me, and engaged mc to go out and visit my daughter.' The
angel is young, beautiful, and fair; it is a recollection of the past. At times
she imagines she partakes of an excellent repast, and will describe to me all the
dishes she has tasted. To hear her, you would suppose that she still assisted
at the bancjuet. The meats on the table are exiiuisite ; they give forth the most
savory smells, and the wines are of the most celebrated growths. Unless she is
speaking of her poems and her writings, her conversation wanders perpetually. "

It is not, fortunately, necessary to instruct the public on the awful nature
of the hallucinations which accompany the use ot alcoholics. Nearly every
reader will have witnessed the unspeak ii)l(' siillerings, the indescribable tor-
ments of the poor victim of alcohol, writhing under the terror inspired by the
hallucinations of delirium. In the lunatic asylums, the use of alcoholic bever-
ages is recognized as one of the fruitful sources, bolh directly and indirectly, of
insanitw In some institutions in the old world, from one-tenth to one-third of
the total number of the insane, it is estimated, are directly so from the use of
alcoholics.

M. Viardot, translator of the lYouvelles Russcs of M. Gogol, says that the
Zaporogh Cossacks, who indulge in the immoderate use of spirituous liquors,
are often attacked with delirium trcuicns, and that they are then beset with de-
moniacal visions. He mentions the case of one man who saw enormous scorpions

HALI.LCINAIIONS.

4S3

strc'lcliiiiLj out their claws, cnchiavourini; to lay hold of him, and wh<i died in
convulsions on the third day, when he thou<:;ht they had actually seized him.
— (Rcviic lies Deux Moiidcs).

The existence of these peculiar and distressins^ hallucinations has been
commented on by the writers of ever}' country. We read in the American
yoiinial of Insanity that all kinds of animals introduce themselves into the room
of the sick man ; they ^Wdc into his bed, or walk over the coverings, or threaten
and torment him with hideous ,<;rimaces.

From the Edinburij;h Medical and Suvf^ica! Journal we extract the followin,;];
example jf hallucinations produced by alcoholics :

'• I was called upon," says Dr. Aldersen, "some time apjo to visit Mr. — — ,
who at that time kept a dram shop. Havini; at different times attended, and
thence knowing him very well, I was struck with something singular upon my
first entrance. He went upstairs with me, but evidently hesitated occasionally
as he went. When he got into his chamber, he exj-)ressed some apprehension
lest I should consider him as insane, and send him to the asylum at York,
whither I had not long ago sent one of liis pot companions. 'Whence all these
ai)i)rehensions ? What is the matter with you? Why do you 1, ok so full of
terror ?' He then sat (hnvn, and gave me a historv of his complaint.

*' About a week or ten days before, after drawing some li(juor m his cellar
for a girl, he desired her to take away the oysters which lay upon the iloor, and
which he supposed she had dropped. The girl, thinking him drunk, laughed at
him, and went out of the room.

" He endeavored to take them up himself, and, to his great astonishment,
could find none. He was then going out of the cellar, when, at the door, he
saw a soldier whose looks he did not like, attempting to enter the room where
he then was. He desired to know what he wanted there ; and upon receiving
no answer, but, as he thought, a menacing look, he sprung forward to seize the
intruder, and, to his no small surprise, found it a phantom. The cold sweat
hung upon his brow — he trembled in every limb. It was the dusk of the- evening;
as he passed along the jiassage the phantom liitted before his eyes; he attemjit-
ed to follow it, resolutely determined to satisfy himself; but as it vanished there
appeared others, and some of them at a distance, and he exhausted himself by
fruitless attempts to lay hold of them. He hastened to his family with marks
of terror and confusion ; for, though a man of the most undaunted resolution,
he confessed to me that he never before felt what it was to be completely terri-
fied. During the whole of that night he was constantly tormented with a variety
of spectres, sometimes of people who had been long dead, and at other times ot
friends who were living ; and harassed himself with continually getting out of
bed, to ascertain whether the people he saw were real or not. Nor could he
alwa)s tell who were and who were not real customers, as they came into the

4'^4

(iLlMl'SKS OK THK UNSEEN.

rooms in day-time, so that his conduct became the subject of observation ; and
thouirh it was for a time attributed to private drinking, it was at last suspected
to arise from some other cause ; and when I was sent lor, the family were under
the full conviction that he was insane, although they confessed that, in every-
thing else, except the foolish notion of seeing apparitions, he was perfectly
rational and steady ; and during the whole of the time he was relating his case
to me — and his mind was fully occui^'ed — he felt the most gratifying relief, for in
all that time he had not seen one apparition ; and he was elated with pleasure,
indeed, when I told him I should not send him to York, for his was a complaint
I could cure at home. But whilst 1 was writing a prescription, and had suffered
him to be at rest, I saw hirn suddenly get up, and go with a hurried step to the
door. ' What did you do that for ?' He looked ashamed aud mortified. He
had been so well whilst in conversation with me, that he could not believe that
the soldier whom he saw enter the room was a phantom, and he got up to con-
vince himself.

" I need not here detail particularly the medical treatment adopted; but it
may be as well just to state the circumstances which probably led to the com-
plaint, and the principle of cure. Some time previously he had had a quarrel
with a drunken soldier, who attempted, against his inclination, to enter his house
at an unseasonable hour, and in the struggle to turn him out, the soldier drew
his bayonet, and having struck him across the temples, divided the temporal
artery ; in consecjuence of which he bled a very large quantity before a surgeon
arrived, as there was no one who knew that, in such a case, simple compression
with the finger upon the spouting artery would stop the elTusion of blood. He
had- scarcely recovered Irom the effects ot this loss of blood, when he undertot)k
to accompany a friend in his walking-match against time, in which he went forty-
two miles in nine hours. Elated with success, he spent the whole of the follow-
ing day in drinking ; but found himself, a short time afterwards, so much out of
health that he came to the resolution of abstaining altogether from li(]uor. Ir
was in the course of the week following that abstinence from his usual habits,
that he had the disease. It kept increasing for several days, till I saw him,
allowing him no time for rest. Never was he able to get rid of these shadows
by night when in bed, nor by day when in motion, though he sometimes walked
miles with that view, and at others got into a variety of company. He told me
he suffered even bodily pain, from the severe lashing of a wagoner with his whip,
who came every night to a particular corner of his bed, but who always dis-
appeared when he jumped out of bed to retort, which he did several nights suc-
cessively. The whole of this complaint was effectually removed by bleeding
with leeches, and active purgatives. After the first employment of these means,
he saw »"o more phantoms in the day-time, and after the second, only once saw
his milkman in jvs bed-room between sleep and waking. He has remained

HALLUCINATIONS.

485

]K'rfectly rational and well ever since, and can jro out in the dark as well as ever,
havinij received a perfect conviction of the nature of j^hosts."

In Catalepsy the intellectual faculties are crenerally suspended. Yet some
cataleptics hpve dreams or visi >ns concerning objects which have deeply
atifected them More than half the number of epileptics, it is said, are subject
to hallucinations. The following cases will sufficiently illustrate this class of
hallucination :

M. L. was seized ten years ago with monomania of a melancholy charac-
ter, since which he imagines that he is subject to the persecutions of relentless
enemies. He often hears them making disgusting remarks to him, and they
prevent his sleeping by their wicked proposals. From his childhood this patient was
subject to irregular attacks of epilepsy, which were often preceded by a hallucina-
tion, resembling a flash of lightning. The moment before losing his conscious-
ness, he used to see the figure of a demon, which approached him like the
shadows of a phantasmagoria: he then uttered a loud cry, saying, " Here is the
devil !" and fell on the y^round.

Sometimes strange figures address the epileptic ; they insult him or com-
mand him to do a certain act. It is highly probable that many of the crimes
committed by these unfortunate persons, and for which some have been severely
punished, were the results of hallucinations of hearing and of siofht.

Jacques Mounin, of Berne, was liable to pileptic fits. At their termina-
tion he showed symptoms of great excitement ; and after one of these attacks he
rushed like a mad man into the country, and successively assassinated three men.
He was followed, secured, and thrown into prison, where he was interrogated as
to the reason for his actions. Mounin stated that he perfectly recollected killing
the three men, especiall}' one who was his relative, which he very much regretted.
He said that, during these paroxysms of fury, he saw himself surrounded by
flames, and that the color of blood delighted him.

There is no nervous affection which presents a greater variety of pheno-
mena than hysteria. The hallucinations in hysteria may or may^ not i)e accom-
panied by the loss of reason. The case is mentioned of Madame C, who has
for many years been subject to attacks of hysteria. At the tune of tlieir occur-
rence she is timid, anxious, and alarmed, and at length her fears become so
extreme that she does nothing but call out for help. This excessive terror is
caused by the horrible ]:)hantoms which show themselves during the attack, and
who mock, insult, and threaten to strike her.

Hibbert, in his work on IJallticiiurfious, says, that when the excitement of
hysteric, d women is at its height, its effects are similar to those produced by the
nitrous oxide gas, which is considered to have a peculiar influence on the blood.
'J'his writer speaks of a woman, whose case is related by Fortius, who was
always warned of a hysterical attack by the appearance of her own image, as in
u mirror.

486

GLIMPSES OF THE UNSEEN.

Sauvages states, that during tlie paroxysm the patients are in the habit of
seeing frightful spectres.

The li<illucinations of nightmare are various anil yet have the common
quality -of some great danger imminent or some present horrible suffering. As
nearly every reader will be sufficiently acijuainted wilh the ordinary forms of
hallucination in nightmare we give the following curious account ot Dr. I'arent
where a whole battalion of soldiers two nights m succession were allected with
the some hallucination in nightmare :

" The hrst battalion of the regiment of Latour-d' Auvert;ne, of which,'' says
Dr. Parent, "I was the surgeon, was quartered at ralini in Calabria, when it
received peremptory orders to march with all despatch to rro|ie<i, and there
ojipose the landing of troops from tho enenn's llolilla, whiih had thn-atencd
these parts. It was in the month of June, and the troops had lo traverse nearly
forty miles of country. The battalion started at midnight, and did not arrive
at its destination till about seven o'clock m the evening, having scarcely rested,
and having sulfered much from the heat. On its arri\al its rations and quar-
ters were readv prepared.

"As this battalion had come the farthest, it was the last to arrive, and
consequently had the worst barracks assigned to it; eiglit luiiulred men being
placed where usually only half that luimher w(.)uld have been lodged. They
were huddled together on straw placed upon the j;round, and as tlie}- had no
coverings, they could not undress theni'^elves. It was an old descried abbey.
The inhabitants had previously warned us the baltcdion would not be able to
rest, for that spirits assembled there every night, and that already other regi-
ments had failed in the experiment. We merely lauj^hed at their credulity ;
but what was our surprise, about midnight, to hear the most frightful cries issue
from all parts of the building, and to see tlie soldiers ruslung out in the greatest
alarm ! I questioned them as to the cause of their fear, and they all told me
the devil dwelt in the abbey : that they had seen him enter through an opening
of the door of their chamber in the form of a large black dog with curly hair,
who had bounded upon them, run over their chests with the rapidit\- of lightning,
and disappeared on the side opposite to the one at which he had enlered.

" We ridiculed their fears, and endeavored to satisfy them that the event
depended u[)on simple and natural causes, and was nothing more than the
result of their imagination. We were quite unable to convince them, or to
induce them to re-enter their quarters. They passed the remainder of the night
on the seashore, and scattered about in different parts of the town. The ne.xt
day I again questioned the sergeants, and corporals, and some of the oldest
soldiers. They assured me they were not persons to give wa}- to fear, nor did
they believe in spirits and ghosts ; yet they seemed lo me to be perfectly con-
vinced that the scene which had taken place in the abbe\' was no effect of the

IlAl-l.UClNAIIONS.

487

iiTi;ijj;ination, but a real event. Accordintj; to tl'.ese men, tlicy had scarcely f.illrii
asleep when the {l()<j; entered; ihcy saw him (juite plainly, and wen: almost
sullocated when he leaped upon their ehcsls.

" We remained the whole of that da\- at Tropea, and the town hein^ lull
ol troops, we were obliged to retain the same cpiartcrs ; we eould on!)' persuade
the soldiers to <^() to rest by promising to pass the nii^ht with them. I retired at
half-past eleven with tlu; major of the battalion; the ollicers throu,L;h curiosity
were scattiired about in the different rooms. We had no expeiuation that the
scene of the pr(H:edin<; ni^ht would be renewed. Tlu> soldiers, who w(>re re-
assured by the i)resenee of their oKieers, who l<ei)t watch, had tallen asleep,
when, at one o'clock in the morning, from all the rooms at the same time, tin;
same cry camc^ forth, and the men who had seen the doj; jump onto their chests,
fearful of beinjj; suffocated, left their ([uaiters, resolved not to iclurn to them
a<;ain. We were up, wide awake, and on the watch to see what would hajipen ;
but, as may easily be supposed, nothim; made its apjiearance. The enem)''s
flotilla havinf; sailed away, we returned the next day to Palmi. Since; the event
which has just been recorded, \vc. have traversed the. kmt^dom ol Naples at all
periods of the year, our soldiers ha\'e oft(Mi been crowded toij;ether in the same
way, but this phenomenon has never sliown itsell aj^ain."

It is probable that tin; forced march and the great heat h;id cond)ined to
affect the respiratory organs, and had jn-edisposed them to nightmare (incubus,
ephialtes), lavort^d also by the uncomlortal)le locality wh(;re th(-y we'ie obliged
to sleep with their clothes on, by the rarefaction of the air, and |)ossibly also by
its containing some noxious gas.

Abercrombie, in his work On llic liitcllcctunl Po'cccis, is ol opinion that
dreams and hallucinations are closely allied. In support of this doctrine, he has
related the following case: "An (>minent mecbcal friend, having sat up late one
evening, under considerable anxiety ai)out one of his children who was ill, fell
asleep m his chair, and had a frightful dream, in which the j)rominent ligurc;
was an immense baboon. He awoke with the iiight, got up instantl)', and
walked to a table which was in the ir.i.ldlj of the room, lie; was th(;n (]uite
awake, and C|i:ilc conscious of tlie articles around him ; but, close by the wall,
in the end of the aj)artment, he distinctly saw the baboon making the samt;
grimaces which he had seen in his dream ; and the spectre continued visible lor
about hall a minute."

" The analogy between dreams and hallucinations," says Walter Scott,
"are numerous: thus, any sudden noise which the sluniberer hears, without
being actually awakened by it — any casual toucli of his [)cison occurring in the
some manner — becomes instantly adopted in his dream, and accommodat(;d to
the tenor of the current train of tiiought, whatever that may hai)pen to be ; and
nothing is more remarkable than the rapidity with which imagination sup[)lies

4S«

CLIMI'SKS OK -niK UNSKKN.

a complete explanation of the interruption, according,' to the previous train of
ideas expressed in the dream, even when scarce a moment of time is allowed for
that purpose. In dreamin<jf, for example, of a duel, the external sound becomes,
in the twinkling; of an eye, the dischar^^e of the combatants' pistols ; is an orator
haran^niin^' in his sleep, the sound becomes the applause of his supposed audi-
ence ; is the dreamer wanderins; amon-; supposed ruins, the noise is that ol the
fall of some part of the mass. In short, an explanatory system is adopted
durinjj: sleep with such extreme rapidity, that supposing,' the intruding- alarm to
have been the first call of some person to awaken the slumberer, the explanation,
though recjuiring some process of argument or deduction, is usually formed and
perfect before the second effort of the speaker has restored the dreamer to the
waking world and its realities. So rapid and intuitive is the succession of ideas
in sleep," as to remind us of the vision of the Prophet Mahommed, in which he
saw the whole wonders of heaven and hell, though the jar of water which fell
when his ecstasy commenced, had not spilled its contents when he returned to
ordinary existence."

The hallucinations which occur in dreams arise from the association of
ideas, or are the recollection of things which have previously taken place.

There are well authenticated instances of dreams which have given notice
of an event that was occurring at the time or occurred soon after. " A clergy-
man had come to this city (Edinburgh), from a short distance in the country,
and was sleeping at an inn, when he dreamed of seeing a fire, and one of his
children in the midst of it. He awoke with the impression, and instantly left
town on his return home. When he arrived within sight of his house, he found
it on fire, and got there in time to assist in saving one of his children, who, in
the alarm and confusion, had been left in a situation of danger."

This case may be explained ou simple and natural principles, without hav-
ing recourse to the supernatural. '* Let us suppose that the gentleman had a
ser\ ant who had shown great carelessness in regard to fire, and had often given
rise in his mind to a strong apprehension th?.t he might set fire to the house ;
his anxiety might be increased by being from home, and the same circumstances
might make the servant still more careless. Perhaps there was on that day, in
the neighborhood of his house, some fair or periodical merry-making, from which
the servant was ver\' likely to return home in a state of intoxication. It was
most natural that these impressions should be embodied into a dream of his
house being on fire, and that the circumstances might lead to the dream being
fulfilled."

HALLUCIXATIONS I\ FXSTASY AND SOMX AMUULISM.

Ecstasy implies an liabitual elevation of the ideas and feelings in regard to
spiritual things far above the ordinary level. Those experiencing ecstasy have

HALlXt INAIIONS.

489

an extreme ren;ard for relij^ion, poetr)- and the fine arts, and are frecinem victims
ot hallucination. The celel^rated visionary, Count l'2nianuel Swedenborg, im-
a<;ined he had the sinp;ul3r hapjiiness of enjoyin<; freciuent interviews with the
world of spirits, and lias favored mankind with minute descriptions of tlie scenes
he visited and the conversations he heard. " The l.ord Himself," sa's he, in a
letter prefixed to his 'riieosophic Lucubrations, " was graciously pleased to mani
ffst Himself to me, his unworthy servant, in a personal appearance in the year
1743, to open to me a sight of the spiritual world, and to enable me to convt^rse
with spirits and angels ; and this privilege has cnntinued with me to this day."

It might seem prcjbable that the ecstatic state would only have been mani-
fested in those whose imagination had had time to develop itself. Nevertheless,
we read in the Theatre sacrc des Cevcnnes (p. jo), that children of the age of eight
or six years, or even younger, fell into a state of ecstasy, and were able to preach
and jirophesy like other ecstatics.

In 1506 the greater number of the children brought up in the hospital at
Amsterdam — girls as well as boys, to the number of sixty or seventy — were
attacked by an extraordinary disease; they climbed over the wails and upon the
tiles like cats. Their appearance was frightful ; they spoke in foreign languages,
they uttered ihe most astonishing things, and even revealed what was passing at
the time in the municipal council. One of these children announced to a certain
Catherine Gerardi, one of the superintendents of the hospital, that her son. Jean
Nicolai, purposed leaving for the Hague, where he would come to no good.
This woman went to the side of the Basilicon, where she arrived just as the
council had broken up, and found her son. It seems that Nicolai was himself a
member of the council. His mother asked him if it were true that he intended
leaving for the Hague. Much disturbed at the question, he admitted that it
was so ; but when he learned that it was one of the children who had revealed
his intention, he returned and informed the consuls of it, who, finding that the
project was discovered, entreated the party to abandon it.

These children escaped in parties of ten or twelve, and ran about in the public
places. They went to the Provost, to whom they levealed the most secret por-
tions of his conduct. We are even assured that they discovered several plots
which had been formed against the Protestants.

THE ECST.VnC OF THE TYROL.

One of the most extraordinary cases of ecstasy is that which has been
related by several writers of credit — M. M., the Professors Garres, Leon Bor6,
Edmund Cazales, Cerises — and which is known under the name of Ecstatic of
the Tyrol.

Marie de Marl was born on the i6th of October, i<Si2, of a noble but poor
family. In her infancy she had several severe attacks of illness. When she was

490

GLIMFSKS OK IHE UNSEEN.

twenty years of aj^'e, in iS^j, lier confessor noticed that occasionally she did not
reply to his questions, and that she seemed like a person who was lost. Those
who attended upon the younj^ <;irl informed him that this took place whenever
she received the communion. lie promised to w.itch her carefully. On the day
of the Fete-Dieu he carried the Host to her early in the morninp. At that
moment she fell into a state of ecstatic delij^ht. The next day he visited her at
three o'clock m the atiernoon, when he found her on her knees, and in the san)e
attitude \n which he had left her six-and-thirty hours before. The persons
present, who were accustomed to the si^'ht, declared that she had never chanj^ed
her position. He undertook to remove this state of thinifs, for fear it should
become habitual with her. For this purpose he reminded her of the viriue of
obedience, and to which she had bound herself when she entered the third order
of Saint Fran(pois. The ecstasies were repeated, with phenomena more or less
extraordinary, until the latter half of the year 1S33. At that time, crowds of
curious people, attracted by her fame, came to visit the ecstatic. It is said that
lorty-thousand persons went to Kaldern between the months of July and Sep-
tember. Marie remained the whole time in .1 state of ecstasy. These visits
were interdicted by the authorities. The Prince-bishop of Trente, wishini; to
ascertain the truth of the matter for the information of the "government, visited
these parts. He pronounced that Marie's condition would not in itself consti-
tute a state of holiness ; but that her piety, which was well known, was not a
state of disease. After this prudent declaration, the police removed its interdict.
In the autumn of the same year, her confessor perceived in the middle of her
hands, where at a later period the marks of the crucilixion appeared, indentations
as if they had been hollowed out by the pressure of some projecting body. At the
same time the part became painful, and was fret]uently attacked with cramps.
On February the 2nd, 1834, at the fete of the Purification, he saw her wipe the
middle of her hands with a piece of linen, frijj;htene(l like a child at the blood she
noticed. Similar marks soon afterwards showed themselves on her feet, and
another near her heart. They were nearly circular, but extended a little in the
length of the hand ; they were three or four lines in diameter, and passed through
to the opposite sides of the hands and feet. On a Tuesday night, and on the
Wednesdays, these spots discharged a drop of clear blood. On other nights
they were covered with a drop of dried blood. Marie preserved the most pro-
found silence concerning these marvelous events; but in 1834, the day of the
Visitation, the ecstasy came on during a procession, and took place before st^veral
witnesses ; twice she was seen in a state of the greatest joy, resembling a glorified
angel, scarcely touching her bed with the ends of her feet, the color mounting to
her cheeks, and her arms crossed, so that everyone saw the marks upon her
hands. From that time, this wonderful circumstance could no longer be kept
a secret.

HALLUCINATIONS.

491

" The first lime that I visited her," says Professor Garres, " I fou.ul lur
in the position she occupies the greater j^art of the day ; siie was on her knees at
the foot of her bed, and in a state of ecstasy ; iier hands, crossed "oon her
bosom, exhibited the marks ; her countenance was directed sli},^!iily ujnvards
towards the churcii, and her eyes, which were raised to lieaven, expressed the
most complete abstraction, from which nothin<:j around could disturb her. b'or
hours tof^ether, I could not observe that she made the sli<,'htest movement, ex-
cept that produced by a very j^entle respiration, or by a slight dej^ree of oscil-
lation ; and I can only compare her attitude to that in which we see the anujels
represented before the throiie of God, absorbed in the contemplation of liis
glor)'. It is hardly to be wondered at that this spectacle should have produced
^' e stront^est impression on all who witnessed it. According; to the statement of
the priest and her spiritual advisers, she had been contiiuiall)' in a state of
ecstasy for the last four years. . . . The crucifixion j^enerally forms the subject
of the meditations of the ecstatic of Kaldern, and produces the most profound
impression upon her. The contemplation of this mystery recurs every Wednes-
day in the year, and therefore affords luimcrous opjiortunities for witnessinj^ its
marvelous effects. . . . The proceedings commence on the Wednesday morning'.
If we follow them in their order, we see that, as certain persons utter their
thoughts aloud, without being aware of the words they jironounce, so Marie de
Marl, meditating on the Passion, acts it without being conscious of what she is
doing. At first, the movement with which she is affected is gentle and regular,
but by degrees, as the scene becomes more sorrowful and affecting, her repre-
sentation is more solemn and more definite. At length, when the hour of death
approaches, and the agony has entered into her soul, her countenance becomes
the image of death itself. There she rests u|ion the bed, on bended knees, her
hands crossed upon her breast, while a solemn stillness reigns around, scarcely
broken by the breathing of the attendants. However pale she may have been
during this sorrowful tragedy, you see her become successively paler and paler ;
the chills of death pass more fretjuently through her body, and the life, which is
passing away, momentarily becomes more feeble.

. "She can scarcely breathe, and her oppression increases. Her eyes become
more and more fixed and vacant ; large tears descend slowly over her cheeks.
The parts about the mouth become spasmodically contracted ; at length the
whole face is similarly affected ; while from time to time the spasms increase in
violence, until the whole body is convulsed by them. The respiration, already
so difficult, now consists of short and painful gasps ; the countenance assumes a
darker hue ; the tongue becomes swollen, and seems to cleave to the parched
surface of the palate ; the convulsions, already increased in strength and
frequency, are now incessant. The hands, always crossed, at first sink slowly
and feebly down, and then more (juickly ; the nails assume a dark blue tint, and

4').'

(;i.iMi'si:s OF iiii': unskkn.

llie fin«^ors are convulsively intertwined. Soon a rattling •« heard in the throat,
Tlu" hrcalhini; is still more oppressed, and is acconipanu-d by ( onviilsive heav.
in,!j;s of the clu-st. The latter seems as thou<^h it was t-ncircled with bands of
iron, while the features become so distij^ured that they cannot be recognized.
The mouth remains wide open ; the nose is nipjjed and pointed ; the eyes,
constantly fixed, are ready to start from their sockets. At long intervals a few
gasps pass through the stiffening form, and you are told that the last breath has
l^assed away. The head then drops forwards, bearing all the signs of actual
death ; the l)ody sinks down, completely exhausted ; it becomes another figure,
sunken, drooping, and scarcely to be known. Matters remain in this state for
about a minute or a minute and a half. At the end of this time the head is
raised ; the hands are again placed upon the breast ; the countenance
resumes its usual appearance and trancjuil expression. Marie is on her knees,
her eyes directed to heaven, and she is engaged in giving thanks to God. This
scene is renewed every week, its general features always the same, but more
strongly marked during the Holy Week; it also offers peculiarities which vary
with the internal feelings of the ecstatic. I have satisfied myself of the genuine
nature ot all this by careful and repeated observation ; tnere is nothing studied,
nt)thing false or exaggerated in the whole of this marvelous representation ; and
if Marie de Marl died in reality under similar circumstances, she would have no
other appearance than what she possesses in her ecstasy.

" However much the ecstatic may be absorbed in her contemplations, a
single word from her confessor, or from any other person in spiritual communion
with her, suffices to recall her to her ordinary state of life, without her having to
pass through any intermediate condition. In a moment she will recover herself,
open her eyes, and appear as though she had never known a state of ecstasy.
Her expression becomes c}uite changed ; she is periectly natural, and you would
say she had preserved the simplicity and ingenuousness of childhood. The first
thing that she does when she recovers her senses and hnds there are strangers
present, is to conceal her hands beneath the bed-clothes, like a child who has
s})otted her cufts with ink, and sees her mother approaching. Then, accustomed
as she is to this concourse of people, she looks around her, and bestows on each
a friendly salutation. When the emotion caused by the scene that has passed
is evident on the faces of her attendants, she is not at ease ; if they approach
her with an air of reverence and solemnity, she endeavors to banish these feel-
ings bv her familiar and ha})py manner. As she has been silent for a long time,
she endea\ors to make them understand her by signs ; and when that does not
succeed, like an infant wIkj knows not how to speak, she looks towards her con-'
fessor, and with her eyes entreats him to speak lor her.

" Her dark eyes express the happiness and innocence of childhood. Her
look is so open that you feel you can read her inmost thoughts, and you are

HAMX'CIN.VIIONS.

4^.^

satisticd th.it tluTc IS not ;i pailick' ot Iraud i)r deceit in lier naluri'. 'I'licic is
no appc.ir.mci' eiilier of nu'lanclioly or exaltation, no morbid sentimentality, and
still less ot hypocrisy or pride. Her wiiole aspect expiesses the happiness and
serenity of youth and innocence. Wiien in the society of lu!r fri(!nds, once she
has come to herself, she can continue so tor >onic time; hut one perceives that
it is only by a strong etfort of the will, tor tlie state of ecstasy lias become to her
a second nature, and the life of the rest of mankind is to her what is artificial
and unusual.

" In the midst of a conversation, even when she seems inieresled in it, her
e)es will suddenly become tixed, and in an instant, without any transition, she
relapses into a state of ecstasy. Durinj^ my stay at KaUh in, she had been a.-<Ki.'d
to be godmother to an infant who was baptizi-d in her room. Slu; took it in her
arms, and manifested the greatest interest in the whole ceri iiion)' ; but, even in
that space of time, she several times relapsed into the ecstatic condition, and it
was necessary to recall her to what was actually going on.

" These contemplations and religious exercises do not raise her above ht;r
domestic duties. From her bed she directs the management of the establish-
ment, which siie formerly shared with a sister who is since dead. .\ pension
which was given her by some charitable people she devotes to the education of
her brothers and sisters. Every day at two o'clock her confessor recalls her to
the ordinary life, that she may attend to the aftairs ot her house. They confer
together on any ditliculties which may arise ; she thinks of everything, antici-
pates the wants of those in whom she is interested, and with the larj^e amount
of common sense which she jiossesses, arranges everything in the most pertect

manner.

C.\USi:s Ol- IIALLICI.N'ATION.

Her

are

Fevers and other diseases favor the production ot hallucinations ; yet hallu-
cinations occur in persons of sound mind and of sound health. Ue Boisiiiont
treats of the causes of hallucinaticMi under two heads — moral and physical. Under
the first head he traces those transmitted by means of " tiie ideas which exist
in society, have been inculcated by education and by the torce of example, that
is by a true moral contagion." Under the second he treats those causes which
lie in physical conditions, such as descent, sex, climate, etc., or are to be traced
to alcoholics or narcotics and those jM^oduced by the various forms of disease.

F^erriar rela*"es that a gentleman " was benighted while travelling alone in a
remote part of tlie Highlands of Scotland, and was compelled to ask shelter for
the evening at a small h^iely hut. When he was to be conducted to his bed-
room, the landlady observed, with mysterious reluctance, that he would find the
window very insecure. On examination, i^art of the wall appeared to have been
broken down to enlarge the opening. Alter some enquiry, he was told that a
peddler, who had lodged in the room a short time before, had committed suicide

\')\

lil.iMi'si'.^ ()!• I III; i'>'si,i;\,

.111(1 was ''Hind lian^iiij,' Ix-liind tin- door in (Ik- mominj;. AccordiiiL,' to the
superstition of the country it was dreinetl improper lo remove th(; body thr()Uf:;h
the door of the iiouse, and to coiivcs it ihiuui;h ilic window vva>> impossible with-
out rcmovinij pari ol the wall. Some hints were dropped that the room had
been siibsccpicnlly haunted by the poor man's spirit.

" My hieiid laid his arms, proptrl}- prepared aj^'ainst intrusion of any kind,
by the bedside;, and retired to r(.'st, not without some dej^ree of apprehension
He was visited in a dream by a frijjjhtful app.irition, and, awakinj; in a^ony,
found himself sitting; up in bed with a jiistol j^rasped in his rij^ht hand. On
casting; a fearful j^lance round the room, he discovered by the moonli<;ht a corpse
dressed in a shroud, reared erect against ilu; wall, close by the window. With
much difliculty he summoned up resolution to approach the dismal object, the
teatures of which, and the minutest parts of its funeral apparel, he perceived dis-
tinctly. He passed one hand over it — felt nothint;^ — and sta^jj^ered back to bed.
Atter a lonj; interval, and much reasoninL,^ with himseU, he renewed his investi-
<j;ation, and at lenj^th discovered that the object of his terror was produced by
the moonbeams formin<; a lonj^ brijrht ima<^e thiju<;h the broken window, on
which his fancy, impressed by his dream, had pictured with mischievous
accuracy the lineaments of a body prepared for interment."

" When we remember," sajs Hoismont, " that every age has witnessed some
form of superstition, such as magic, astrology, sorcery, divination, omens, the rais-
ing of spirits, auguries, auruspices, necromancy, cabalisin, oracles, the interpreta-
tion of dreams, pythonesses, sibyls, manes, lares, tahsmans, the presence of
demons in tlesh and blood, incubi, succubi. familiar leiinires, vampirism, possess-
ion, lycanthropy, spirits, ghosts, spectres, phantoms, lutins, sylphides, fairies,
goblins, the evil eye, enchantments, etc., one cannot refrain from mourning over
the facility with which man falls into error, and one is almost induced to believe
he was tlestined to pass his life surrounded by illusions, if we did not trace them
to the inlliience of his education and his neglect of moral and religious principles.

" The religion of the ancients, which peopled every part of nature with divini-
ties, genii, or demons, and other supernatural beings, naturally led to a belief in
the power and embodied nature of spirits. In this respect the doctrines of i^lato
exercised an important inlluence, and ruled in the school of Alexandria. Even
when its disciples were converted to Christianity, they clung to the genius of
Plato, and endeavored to reconcile it to the exact and rigorous philosophy of
Christianity. Hence amongst the learned arose abstract and philosophical dis-
cussions, errors and heresies. Amongst the mass of the people, who could neither
read nor write, this influence showed itself in another form. They could only
comprehend such portions of Christianity as were associated with a material form;
this they adopted to the letter, and thus the principle of evil became invested with
hideous forms, which were transferred to the literature and architecture of the

HAI.I.l ( INAI IONS.

4'),>

period. The hallucinated of thost; days wtrrc |)ursii«;il by black dt^vils armed
with i\oriis, provided with cleft feet and a Ioiiil; tail, just as in a former aj^e Orestes
was tormenteil by tiie l'",umenid<;s, ami terrified by the hissiiij^ of s»:r|)i'nls.

" Such was the <)ri;.,dn of those halliiciiiatioiis which universally prevailed for
several ai;es, and which still exist in some countries at the present day, especi.dly
in Lapland, ami of which examples are by no means uncommon in P'r.mce, as
Kscpiirol. M. Marcario, and wt; ourselves can testify.

" To believe in demons and their assumption of corporeal forms >> ;s, at the
same time, to admit compacts and relations with them, and lIuMr powtT over mat*,
or, in other words, sorcery, possession, ami lycanthropy. This belief in the in-
tervention of 'lemons in hiniian affairs was the source of threat moral disonlers,
which were only increased by the use of the stake and the scaffold. Men, women,
and even children persuaded themselves that they hat! assisted at a witches meet-
ing, that they were in communication with the devil, and had seen persons enter
into unholy compacts with him. livery one pursued tlu; subject accordinj.j to the
bent of his own mind, and soon the foolish fancies of persons weakened by dis-
ease or misfortune became re|)eated on all sides. Judi^es and ecclesiastics be-
lieved in such declarations, and condemned thouands of unhappy victims to their
appointed punishment. Kvcn so late as 1664., the ji^ood Sir Matthew li.de pro-
nounced the sentence of tleath u[)on miserable women accused of witchcraft.
Sir Thomas lirowne himself, who stripped the veil from a number of vulij^ar
errors, when examined at the trial, declared ' that the fits were natural, but
highlened by the power of the devil co-operatinjr with the malice of witches.'"

Towards the end of the sixteenth century, Dr. Lee declared, apparentl\-
with a sincere conviction of its truth, that he was on terms of intimacy with
most of the an<;els. His cotemporary. Dr. Kichard Napier, the father of the
well-known inventor of loj^arithms, believed that he received most of his prescrip-
tions Irom the angel Raplia-l.

The following' cases which we have selected will serve to illustrate the opin-
ions of this period, and have also some other points of interest attached to them.

" In this year ( 1459), in the town of Arras, and county of Artois, arose,
throuf^h a terrible and melancholy chance, an opinion called, I know not why,
the relii^ion of Vaiidoisw. This sect, consisted, it is said, of ci-rtain persons, both
men and women, who, under cloud of niu;ht, by tin; power of the devil, repaired
to some solitary spot, amid woods and deserts, where the devil aj^ipeared before
them in a human form, save that his visaj^e was never perfectly visible to them —
read to the assembly a book of his ordinances, informing them how he would b;;
obeyed — distributed a ver}- little money and plentiful meal, which was concluded
by a scene of general profligacy ; after which each one of his party was conveyed
home to her or his own liabitation.

" On accusations of access to such acts of madness, several creditable per-

496

(ILIMFSKS OF THE UNSEEN.

sons of the town of Arras were seized cUid imprisoned, along with some foolish
women and persons of little consetjuence. These were so horribly tortured, that
some of them admitted the truth of th(^ whoU; accusations, and said, l)eside><,
that they had seen and recoi^nized in their nocturnal assembly many persons of
rank — prelates, seigneurs, and governors of bailliages and cities^being such
names as the examinators had suggested to the persons exammed, while they
constrained them by torture to impeach the persons to whom they belonged
Several of those who had becti tlius informed against were arrested, thrown into
prison, and tortured for so long a time, that they also were obliged to confess
what was charged against tlu-m. After this, those of m(;an condition were
v'Xfccuted and inhumanly burnt, while tlie richer and more powerful of the accused
ransomed themselves: by sums of money, to avoid the i)unishment and the shame
attending it. Man}' even of those also confessed, being persuaded to take that
course by the interrogators, who promised them indemnity for life and fortune.
Some there were of a truth, who suffered, with marvelous patience and constancy,
the torments inrlicted on them, and would confess nothing imputed to tlv ir
charge ; but they, too, had to give large sums to the judges, who exacted t at
such of them as, notwithstanding their mishandling, were still able to mo\'(>,
should banish themselves from that part of tiie country."

The hallucinations produced by drugs and opiates we pass over with one
brief extract from the " Confessions of an English Opium Eater."

The first notice I had of any important change going on in this part of my
physical economy was from the reawakening of a state of eye generally incident
to childhood, or exalted state of irritability. At night, when I lay awake in bed,
vast processions passed along in mournful pomp ; friezes of never-ending stories,
that to my feelings were as sad and solemn as if they were stories drawn from
times before CEdipus or Priam —before Tyre — before Memphis. And at the
same time a corresponding change took place in my dreams; a theatre seemed
suddenly opened and lighted up within my brain, which presented nightly spec-
tacles of more than earthly splendor. And the four following facts may be men-
tioned as noticeable at this time :

That, as the creative state of the eye increased, a sympathy seemed to
arise between the wakmg and dreaming states of the brain in one point. That
whatsoever I happened to call uj) and to trace by a voluntary act upon the dark-
ness, was very apt to transfer itself to my dreams, so that I feared to exercise
this (acuity ; for, as Midas turned all things to gold that yet baffled his hopes
and defrauded his human desires, so whatsoever things capable ot being visually
represented I did but think of in the darkness, immediately shaped themselves
into phantoms of the eye ; and, by a process no less inevitable, when once thus
traced in faint and visionary colors, like writings in sympathetic ink, they were
drawn out by the fierce chemistry of my dreams into insufferable splendor that
fretted my heart.

)ine toolish
)ttured, that
lid, h(3side'<,
y per.st)ns of
-bein<; such
, whil'j they
y beloiii^^ed
ihrown into
I to confess
nlition were
f the accused
id the shame
to take that
and fortune,
id constancy,
ated to th' ir
exacted t at
ble to move,

)ver with one

is part ot my
rally incident
awake in bed,
;nding stories,
s drawn from
And at the
leatre seemed
nightly spec-
may be men-

\y seemed to
■loint. That
upon the dark-
ed to exercise
filed his hopes
being visually
)('d themselves
;hen once thus
ink, they were
splendor that

HALLUCINAIIONS.

■4')7

For tills and all other changes m my dreams were accompanied by deep-
seated anxiety and gloomy melancholy, such as are wholly incommunicable by
words. I seemed every night to descend, not metaphorically, bui literally to
descend into chasms and sunless abysses, depths below de[)ths, from which it
seemed hopeless that I could ever reascend. Nor did I by waking feel that I
had reascended.

The sense of space, and, in the end the sense (^f time were both powerfully
affected. Buildings, landscapes, &c., were exhibited in proportions so vast as
the bodily eye is not fitted to receive. Space swelled and was amplified to an
extent of unutterable infinity. This, however, did not disturb me so much as
the vast expansion ot time ; I sometimes seemed to have lived for seventy or a
hundred years in one night — nay, sometimes had feelings representative of a
millennium passed in that time, or, however, of a duration far beyond the limits
of any human experience.

The minutest incidents of childhood, or forgotten scenes (^f after years wero
often revived. I could not be said to recollect them, for if ! had been told of
them when waking I should not have been able to acknowledge them as parts of
my past experience. But, placed as they were before ne in dreams, like in-
tuitions, and clothed in all their evanescent circumstances and accompanying
feelings, 1 nxognifscd instantaneously. 1 was once told by a near relative of mine
that, having in her childhood fallen into a river, and being on the very verge of
death but for the critical assistance which reached her, she saw in a moment her
whole life, in its minutest incidents, arrayed before her simultaneously as in a
mirror ; and she had a faculty developed as suddenly for comprehending the
whole and every part. This, from some opium experiences of mine, I can
believe. 1 have, indeed, seen the same thing asserted twice in modern books,
and accompanied by a remark which I am convinced is true ; viz., that the
dread book of account which the Scriptures speak of is, in f.ict, the mind itself
of each individual.

With a power of endless growth and self-reproduction, architecture entered
into my dreams. In the very earl)- stage of my malady the splendors of my
dreams were indeed chiefly architectural, and 1 beheld such pomp of cities and
palaces as was never yet beheld by the waking eye, unless in the clouds. To my
architectural succeeded dreams of lakes and silvery exjianses of water. For two
months I suffered greatly in my head. The waters now changed their character ;
from translucent lakes, shining like mirrors, they now became seas and oceans.
And now came a tremendous change, which, unfolding itself slowly like a scroll,
through many months [Momised an abiding torment ; and, in fact, it never left
me until the winding up of my case. Hitherto the human face had mixed often
in my dreams, but not despotically, nor with any special power of tormenting.
But now that v^^hich I have called the tyranry of the human face began to untoli

498

GLIMl'Sl'S OF rill'. UNSEEN.

itself. Upon the rockinj^ waters of ihc ocean the human face bejj;an to appear ;
the Sea appeared paved with innumerable faces upturned to the heavens — faces
imploring, wrathful, despairing, surged upwards by thousands, by myriads, by
fi;enerations, by centuries ; my agitation was inhnite — my mind tossed and
surged with the ocean.

It is a most singular fact that there is a certain contagious element in con-
nection with -some lorms of hallucination so that, like certain forms of disease,
when once introduced into a family or community the people generally become
affected by them. Every now and then the papers and magazines report whole
communities subject to some particular hallucination and like a devastating
flood it seems to pour over the entire town or village or rural settlement. A
short time ago a community in Ohio — all emigrants lately from Europe and
none of them speaking English — was aflhcted witli black cats. They appeared
at first to a single individual and on arrival in the village were few in number
and peaceable in character. Shortly after they appeared in other houses, their
numbers grew, they became tierce and noisy, and work and sleep became alike
impossible. Of their existence no one seemed to have any doubt and the village
— according to newspaper report — was most sadly afUicted.

History furnishes many illustrations of these epidemic hallucinations —
liistoricnl Hallucinations occurnng to Collections of Individuals. — Peter the Hermit,
X.O whom belongs the glory of having delivered Jerusalem, disgusted with the
world and mankind, withdrew into one of the most austere orders of recluses.
His imagination became exalted by fasting, prayer, meditation, and from the
effects of solitude. He possessed the fervor of an apostle, and the courage of a
martyr ; his zeal recognized no obstacles, and all that he aimed at seemed to
him easy of accomplishment. The power of his eloquence and the force of his
example were irresistible. Such was the extraordinary man who inaugurated the
Crusades, and who, without name or fortune, solely by the influence of his lam-
entations and his prayers, excited the Western world to array itself against the
East. In such a state of mmd, and filled with the project he had conceived in
his religious retirement, it is hardly to be wondered at that he imagined he held
continual intercourse with heaven, and believed himself the instrument of its
designs, and the repository of its counsels.

In the midst of the rising civilization of Europe, the Christian religion was
intimately associated with all the interests of its inhabitants ; it formed in a
manner the basis of every society — it was in fact society itself. We cannot,
therefore, be surprised thai men are ready to rise in its defence. The bond of a
universal church powerfully contributed to excite and to cherish the enthusiasm
and progress of the Holy Wars.

Everything concurred to favor the production of hallucinations — religion,
the love of the marvelous, ignorance, anarchy, and the still lingering fear that

HAIJ.LCP.AIlONk

4')i)

the end of the world was at hand. Men awaited some j^reat event, prepared to
welcome it with an ardor proportioned to the de<^ree in which it accorded with
their feelin<;s. The voice of Peter the Hermit stirred up the hearts of men, and
the delivery of the Holy Places became the object of their most ardent wishes.
The very name of the East had something man;ical in its sound, and inflamed
the iinap^inations of the people; it was the land where the wonders of the Old
Testament and the miracles of the Ne had been accomplished, and was still
the birth-place of a thousand marvelous tales.

Scarcely had the siiL^nal been j];iven for the first crusade, when apparitions
made their appearance; every one related the visions he had had, the words he
had heard, and the commands which he had received. The civilian and the
soldier alike beheld signs in the heavens. But it was when the Crusaders had
penetrated into the regions of Asia that these prodigies were multi[)lied without
end.

At the battle of Doryla;um, St. George and St. Demetrius were seen fight-
ing in the ranks of the Crusaders. In the midst of the melee of Antioch, a
celestial troop, clothed in armor, were seen to descend from Heaven, led by the
martvrs St. George, St. Demetrius, and St. Theodore.

During the most sanguinary contest at the seige of Jerusalem, the Crusaders
saw a knight appear upon the Mount of Olives waving his buckler, and giving
the Christian army the signal for entering the city. Godfrey and Raymond, who
perceived him first and at the same time, cried out aloud that St. George was
come to the lielp <>' the Christians. At the same time a report was spread in
the Christian army that the holy pontifi Adhemar, and several Crusaders who
had (alien during the seige, had appeared at the head of the assailants, and had
unfurled the standard of the Cross upon the towers of Jerusalem. Tancred and
the two Roberts, animated by this account, made fresh efforts and at last threw
themselves into the place.

On the da\ Saladin entered into the Holy City, says Rigord, the monks of
Argenteuil saw the moon descend from heaven upon earth, and then reascend to
heaven. In many churches the crucifixes and images of the saints shed tears of
blood in the presence of the faithful. A Christian knight had a dream, in which
he saw an eagle flying over an army, holding in his claws seven javelins, while
he uttered in an intelligible voice, " Evil be to ycriisalcm.''

HALLUCINATIONS OF LUTHER AND JOAN OF ARC.

Luther was subject to hallucinations, if we are to accept his own testimony;
unless, indeed, we believe he had personal interviews with the devil.

" It happened," he says, on one occasion (1521) that I woke up suddenly,
and Satan commenced disputing with me." The conference turned entirely on
the subject of the mass, and is merely a reproduction of Luther's argument

500

GLIMPSES OF iHK LNSKKN

against this sncrament ; and there can be no doubt that the Reformer, whose
days and nights were occupied with the accoiniilisliment of his great work, saw
on this occasion his thoughts assume a material form, in the same manner as all
those whose minds are strongly preoccupied with a subject perceive it distinctly
before them, and mistake it for a reality, until the tension of the mind is relaxed
and they return to the real life which is around them.

One writer, M. Claude, will only regard this conference as a parable, a
species of myth imagined by Luther, engendered, he says, by reading monkish
works, where the Tempter is often introduced. The character of Satan in this
case being not a reality but a philosophical abstraction, or a symbolical repre-
sentation of our evil passions.

Luther has himself refuted this supposition of M. Claude, in his Mtssa
Privata, where this vision is related. Alter expatiating on the power which is
given to Satan, he says, " This explains to me how it sometimes happens that
men are found dead in their beds — it is Satan who has strangled them. Emser,
CEcolampadius, and others like them, who have fallen into the clutches and
under the ban of Satan, have thus died suddenly,"

In a scientific point of view Luther is proved to have had hallucinations ;
but was he insane ? A question which we consider must be answered entirely
in the negative. At the period of the Reformation Satan had an immense
power ; he was mixed up with the religious opinions of the time ; he was spoken
of in books and conversation ; he was represented in the paintings and sculp-
tures of the period ; and ail evil was attributed to him. The ideas of Luther,
exalted by perpetual controversy, by the dangers of his situation, by the fulmina-
tions of the Church, and by continually dwelling on religious subjects, would
naturally fall under the influence of the demon, which he saw everx-where, and
to whom he attributed all the obstacles he encountered, and who — -like his
contemporaries — he conceived interfered in all the affairs of life.

The hallucinations, if we may so express ourselves, belonged to society and
not to the individual. This character of universality, which is observed in the
extravagancies of the Middle Ages, originated in the circumstance that matters
of faith had subjugated mankmd ; while, on the other hand, the liberty of free
examination would cause the predominance o*" the individual. Thus, in our own
times, where individuality has attained ii.-. maximum development, insanity of a
common t}pe has almost disappeared, and has been replaced by forms of
insanity peculiar to each individual.

" There is no ejiisode in our annals," says ^L Buchon, " which excites so
much admiration and interest as the brief history of the arrival of Joan of Arc m
the French camp — her exploits, her courage and her martyrdom. This extra-
ordinary event has given rise to the most opposite opinions. Those who partici-
pated in the ideas of the period, believed her to have been truly inspired with

HALLLCINAI IONS.

501

c in

tra-

tici-

/ith

supernatural powers; other? looked u[ion her enthusiasm as the result of an
exalted state ol her relij^iousand patriotic feelings ; whilst some have res^arded her
as thea,<;ent or dupe of a deep intri;;ue planned by tjie ministers of Charles VII."

Who, then, was this Maid of Orleans ? A young peasant, eighteen or nme-
teen years of age, with a noble and lofty bearing, her countenance pleasing, but
wiih an expression of pride, possessing a character remarkable for its mixture of
candor and determination, of modesty and self-i)ossession, and whose conduct
excited the admiration ot all who knew her. I'Vom the first moment that she
entered on the career of a warrior, and from which no repulses were able to deter
her, she became the most perfect model of a Christian knighl. Intrepid, inde-
fatigable, calm, pious, modest, an excellent horse-woman, and as skilful as an
experienced leader in all the practices of arms, her whole career manifests a lofty
inspiration, and bears the impress of a divine authority. — Charles Nodier. At
the age of eighteen her mission is terminated, and it only remained for her to
crown it with the act of martyrdom.

Thus we have on one side the most unimpeachable conduct, sagacity of no
ordinary kind, and perfect integrity of the reasf;;:ng powers ; while, on the other,
as in many other celebrated persons, there were visions and revelations. Such
were the facts of the case. Let us examine them more in detail :

When only eleven years old, Joan had her first apparition, which took place
in the iollowing manner : When m a meadow, along with her companions, she
saw a young man near her, who said, " Joan, run to the house, your mother is in
want of your assistance." Joan hastened to her mother, who declared she had
not asked for her. The young girl rejoined her companions, when suddenly a
uhite and brilliant cloud presented itself before her eyes, and a voice came from
the midst of it, saying: " Joan, you are born to follow ci different course of life,
and to accomplish great wonders, tor you are the person whom Heaven has selected
to restore the kingdom of France, and to afford succor and support to Charles,
who is now deprived of his empire. Dressed like a man, you will take arms, you
will become the leader of the war, and everything will be conducted according
to your directions." Day and night similar apparitions presented themselves to
Joan, and for five years she remained in this troubled state. At length, in a final
vision, she received the following announcement : " The King of Heaven com-
mands you to proceed on your mission ; ask no more how it is to be done, for
such is the will of God in Heaven, and such it shall be fulfilled on earth. Go,
then, to the neighboring district of Vancouleurs, which alone of all Champange
has remained faithful to the king, and the commander of the district will conduct
you without difficulty to the accomplishment of your desires."

When the unhappy girl answered the c}uestions which were put to her by
her enemies, she said that St. Catherine and St. Margarite had appeared to her
when she was thirteen years old, and taught her how to conduct herself. Tlie

502

(;1.1MPSKS OK THK UNSliHN.

first voice which she heard was that of St. Michael, who presented himself
before her, accompanied by anj^els, all of them having assumed a corporeal form.
She declared she had embraced the two saints, whom she clearly discerned and
touched.

Hallucinations of all the senses are evident in this case. Is that, however, a
sufficient reason to rej^ard the heroic Joan of Arc as a lunatic ? We strongly
protest against such an oi")inion. Read the questions o( her interrogators, which
are filled with malevolence, cunning and hate, and you must be struck with the
simple ingenuous and uniform answers of Joan ; she is always superior to her
judges ; her openness and courage stand in strong contrast to their pertid\- and
cowardice; iier strong mind to their weakness; and her loftv piety to their
degraded bigotry.

Her life, as displayed by these examinations, was of a romantic and innocent
character. When the panic came which was caused by the disorders of the
soldiery, Joan, already remarkable for her courage, would escort through the
dangerous places those of her companions who would otherwise have been afraid
to have accompanied their ilocks.

TWO WOXDKKITL EX PI:K I F,Nri;s 1!Y EVANC.ELIST (MvOSSl.EV.

My sister, Mrs. W. J. Parkiiill, has had several exceptional and wonderful
manifestations, only two of which I shall now relate.

My eldest brother, Levi, was drowned about midnight on Saturday, Sept.
loth, i88i,when the steamer Columbia foundered on Lake Michigan. That
night my sister, while sleeping, saw him drowning. The awful sight aroused her
from slumber, and she sprang out of bed screaming with fright ; and as Mr.
Parkhill, awakened by her cries, anxiously asked, " What is the matter?" she
told him that she had seen Levi drowning and felt sure that she would never
behold him alive again.

He tried to dissuade her from the impression ; but she never wavered in
her belief that Levi was drowned at the time of her dream.

On Monday the following telegram was received : " The Columbia
foundered Saturday night and your brother Levi is drowned."

My sister was living at Randwick, Ont., and my brother was drowned near
Frankfort, Mich., some hundreds of miles awa}'.

The other incident is still more remarkable. It occurred in connection with
the drowning ot Mr. W^iiliam Henry, with whom my brother-in-law had been in
business for over 20 years, and who had been almost as a brother to my sister.
I shall give the account in the words of my sister as they appear in a letter she
sent me. She says : —

'• On September 14th, 1882, between eleven and twelve o'clock in the day,
as I was in the kitchen helping with the dinner a peculiar sensation passed over

HALLLCINAIIONS.

ted himself
boreal form,
cerned and

however, a
^^ strongly
tors, which
:k with the
rior to her
erfidy and
y to their

d innocent
ers of the
"ough ihe
een afraid

wonderful

ay, Sept.
n. That
>used her
i as Mr.
■r ? " she
Id never

ivered in

olumbia

led near

on with
been in
y sister,
tier she

he day,
:d over

^ox

me, and, claspinfr my hands tij^^htly tof,'ether and walkini,^ throiii^h the dining
room to the front door, I exclaimed : ** Oh. I feel so strange "

" The upper part of this door, as you will remember, consists of one lar^e
pane of <,dass.

" As I stood there I seemed to lose sicrht of the iniM, lawn, and everything
before me, and I distinctly saw William tossing on great waves. I do not
know whether I stood there one miijiuie or ten, hut this I know that I saw
William as plainly as I ever saw him. I saw iiis bald head and his long locks
as they were lifted by the water. As I beheld him struggling in the waves, I
seemed to be quite near and i^azi d horror-stricken at the awful sight. At lengtli
I saw him throw up his hands and sink beneath the waters.

" I then rushed into the parlor where there was a lady friend. I could not
speak. The lady looked wonderinj^ly at me and said, * Why, what is the
matter ? You look as if you had seen a ghost.'

" I cried out, ' Oh, William Henry is drowned ; I saw him drowning, I saw
him tosst'd on the waves. 1 saw him going down and coming up again. I saw
him sink to rise no more.'

" The lady looked incredulously at me and smiled as she said: 'Mrs. Parkhill,
you have (mly imagined all this, if he were drowning you could not see him.
You are crossing the bridge before you come to it. Why, it i.s impossible, for
he told you where he would be to-day, and he is not even on the water, much
less drowned.'

" I im[>lored her not to ridicule my fears, for I saw the waves go over him.

" I was so prostrated that I lay down on the sofa and for a time gave way
to convulsive sobs, after which I tried to calm myself and shut out die awful
sight that I had witnessed.

" William was a good Christian man. and was on- of our particular friends
for whom I prayed every night. That night, however, I could not pray for him
as usual, for I felt sure that he was beyoml the reach of our prayers.

" This 14th day of September was on Thursday. On Friday afternoon my
husband returned home, and when he saw me he exclaimed : 'I see that -ou
have been having another one of your awful headaches.'

"I replied, ' No, I have not had a headache, but yesterday I saw William
drowning.'

I' He urged me not to distress myself, and said, ' William is all right ; 1 saw
hini in Toronto on Tuesday before he started for the Manitoulin Islands.'
•' I cried out, ' Oh Park, I know he is dead, for I saw him drowning.'
" My husband was much disturbed by my seeming hallucination, and
requested me not to speak of the matter again, but to take a good rest and all
would be riirht.

504

GLIMl'SKS OK I'HE UNSKEN.

*' I went about the house quietly, with that stranjjfe feeHng which I cannot
describe, but never doubting tiie truth of what I had seen.

•* The next day, Saturday afternoon, I went out to the Post Office, wiiere
Mr. Parkhill .sat at the desk- writing. Looking up, he said, ' I'm writing a letter
to William.' I answered, * Oh please don't write to him, he will never get it; he
is dead.'

" After much persuasion I got him to put the letter away until the paper
would come in the afternoon, when he would see an account of the disaster.

" Something happened to the newspaper part of the mail, so that the
Toronto Saturday papers did not come ; but my mind remained unchanged.

" On Sunday morning, while we were sitting on the verandah, I feeling
very poorly and still weighed down with grief, Mr. Parkhill looked up and said,
' Why, there is Mr. Wade driving in ; I wonder what is bringing him on
Sunday ? ' He was the Postmaster at Lisle.

" I replied, ' lie has yesterday's papers, and is coming in to tell you that
William is drowned.'

■' He got up quickly, saying, ' You must not talk that way, I cannot bear
it; it would be too dreadful,' and went into the house.

" A few moments later Mr. Wade assured him that William was drowned,
and handed him the paper in which the news of the wreck of the Asia was
printed ; and the truth was forced upon him that what I saw had really
happened.

" When the body of William was found, his watch was stopped at the hour
I saw him drowning ; and Mr. Tinkiss and Miss Morrison, the only two sur-
viving passengers ot the ill-fated steamer, stated that it was on Thursday at the
hour I have named when the steamer was wrecked on the Georgian Bay.

" I never could understand or explain the phenomenon ; but this I know, that
I never saw anything more distincd)' in my life than the scene I have faintly
described to you."

These remarkable psychic experiences of my sister are certainly inexplicable
mysteries which no person can understand. We may, however, assume that the
secret of these phenomena is to be found in the fact that mind influences mind,
even when long distances intervene, and that some minds are much more
susceptible to these influences than others. — H. T. Crosslev.

vhich I cannot

Office, where
mtin<; a letter
'Ver^ret it; he

ntil the paper

disaster.

so that the
:lian^^ed.
lah, I feeling

"P and said,
ring him on

ell you that

cannot bear

IS drowned,

le Asia was

had really

at the hour
ly two sur-
sday at the
3ay.

know, that
ave faintly

explicable
le that the
ices mind,
uch more